#false hope like ben hope do you get it

[aceaceace144616]

LISTEN TO MY FRIEND'S SONG

[skyrigel]

“The Great War : Part 2”

Pairing: Benjicot “Davos” blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

Part 1 of “The great war”

Part 3 of “The great war”

Benji masterlist

“ Benji makes a move, Aeron demands his sister back, you learn the truth—prehaps you would survive the great war after all ”

~ fluff, food feeding, flirty Benji, ‘Darling’ is basically his love language, mention of abduction, bashing Aeron Bracken ( loml)

Wc: 2k

There will be one more part consisting: wedding, smut and jealousy, a happily ever after. Join the taglist<3 xoxo

Request for Aemond, Jace and Aegon are open <3

Two days, you sighed, two days living on false hopes and whispered prayers, the smell of smoke still fresh on your skin.

Bright light shimmering inside and took refuge in your darkness as the flap opened, you looked up from your blood soaked gown and feral watery eyes, sore from tears and hopes.

“ Won't you eat anything darling? ” Benji smiled, despite his words carrying a tone of disappointment, his gaze lingering off the untouched food as he reached you.

Sitting down next to you, his back pressed against your cot, floor cold under your bodies.

“ C'mon, you will die if you won't eat.” His fingers brushed your jaw and you pulled back, turning your face to the outside chatter.

“ Wouldn't that be better ? ” you turned to him, He only beamed more, always flattered to have your attention.

“ No.” He said, bringing the plate towards you, “ Because your brother wouldn't like that and me ? I would be wrecked without you sweetheart.”

“ My brother ? ” you perked up, Benji shredded the loaf, dipping it in the cherry crushed jam.

“ Yes, your brother.” Benji cocked his head, bringing the loaf to your mouth, “open” he mouthed, you hesitated but eventually obliged.

“ When will he come ? ” you asked instantly, feeling your throat dry from days refusing food and water.

“ Bracken's were seen on the east fronts, if everything —” He brought another bite to you, “ — plays out good then he would be here by tommorow.”

“ Oh.” Your lips brushed his finger, Benjy's mouth twitched, “ I can eat by myself.” you said hurriedly, avoiding his eyes that could easily devour you.

“ I know darling.” He said calmly, Ben looked different in this light, his face clear from blood and gore, eyes not blinded by war and chaos but just himself, he was feral, you knew it, knew damn well all his bloodiness but this Benji who visited you everytime in these past two days, his skin clear, his youth shining, his words sweet, his tactics new to feed you, it felt like the very first time. You felt more dirty in the clothes he abducted you, refusing to bathe or change or eat, fingers dirty under your nails. It was a relief he was feeding you.

“ Then let me.” You didn't open your mouth when he brought the sweet loaf to you, his eyes softening as he shaked his head.

“ You are in my care, so you don't get to fret.” He pushed his thumb on your mouth, parting your lips in a gasp, too stunned to form any sentences, let alone for a comeback, you ate.

“ No.” you said, when he started spreading cheese on another peice of bread, his fingers red with cherry jam, like blood.

“ Huh ? ” he looked up, placing tomatoes on the loaf along with cooked meat.

“ Not hungry.” you looked away, not that you weren't, but you hated how your heart raced everytime he was near, hated how you would do anything if he said it the right way, hated how stupid he made you feel.

He dismissed as your stomach churned, embarassing you but he made no note of it, busy in making a flower with his toppings.

“ I thought about asking for your hand in marriage, the first time we met.”

“ We never met. You saw me and I saw you.” you snapped at him, Benji chuckled as he bit his lower lip, you looked away.

“ I thought you didn't remember making eyes at me.”

“ I was just looking ! ” your face grew warm, your heart lept inside your ribs, you wondered if he could hear it.

And sometimes you thought he did, Benji could breathe your hunger, sense your desires and it left you spiralling — did he know ?

“ ofcourse you were just looking, darling.” He was finished decorating the loaf like it wasn't going to be eaten but preserved through the centuries.

“ Stop calling me darling.”

“ Why ? Don't tell me you don't like it.”

“ I don't like it.” you glared at him, he waved you off, pouring wine in two goblets.

“ Then don't blush like that.” He sucked at his cherry smeared fingers, his mouth was warm and pink, soft like a breeze, how soft and sweet...so soft on your lips—fuckity fuck.

You flushed, feeling heat shoot up your spine, slowly crawling it's way to your face.

You grabbed the goblet, downed it one swig, ‘it's the wine’ you would jab at him if he pointed the crimson glow of your skin.

But he never did, Benji watched with his smug face, as your throat bobbled down the whole drink in one go, smiling to himself.

“ It would've been nice if your brother wasn't an idiot.”

“ Say that again.” You frowned at him, ready to bang his head with the decorated loaf if you had to, how dare he ?

“ No offence darling.” He shifted closer to you, running a hand through his hair, you winced at his sticky fingers but it was Benji, he would look good doing anything, stupid or immoral, anything and you shuddered at the feeling he tingled inside you. Stop !

“ but your brother ruined everything, first he declared for the cun—unworthy Aegon and then when I tried to make peace—”

“ oh, the bloodshed ? ” You glanced at him and he looked hurt for a moment before he recovered with a widened shit eating grin of his, streching from ear to ear.

“ It was your Brother and his plan.”

“ No.”

“ Well you have got no reason to believe me and you shouldn't until I prove myself to you, House Bracken and house Blackwood never got along and on that table when I saw you, I saw hope, I didn't mind if Aeron asked for lands or rivers or people or glory as long as he would bless us but...” You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw his face crinkling,he wasn't crying but it was there, a proof that he could, “...He and his gitty lords betrayed my trust, no honour, no word keeping—”

“ Stop, please stop.” You brought your knees to your chest, feeling your insides hollow as he spoke and spoke, making you wonder whose sword it was that swinged first that day, his or Aeron's, which man died first, his or your own, because every word he said felt true to his soul and Benji did many things to you, kidnapped you, threatened you, played his silly little games with you but all and all, he never lied, not even to feed you, not even to gain your trust.

You were so doomed.

“ You should rest, darling.”

“ Go away.” You buried your face in the dip of your knees.

“ Right.” He closed his mouth, getting up from the floor, “ Aeron will come for you and this time we could actually talk about peace.”

He added sincerely, before smoothening your hair as you refused to look at him, feeling everything you believed crumble, going upside down.

“ Eat that when you're hungry.” and with that he left.

~~~

Benji was true to his word, By afternoon two maids came in, holding a dress, it was just a simple cotton gown with red flowers embroided and despite almost three days of refusing to do anything that was told,

You finally gave in, feeling your body melt in the hot water as soft hands brushed your back, combing through your hair.

Blood, smoke and many other things rubbed off your skin, you were finally clean.

Your eyes widened, heart bloomed as two men in cloak escorted you in front of a tent, biggest in the whole camp after where you were kept.

“ Go inside.” One said and you reasiled she was a woman, you weren't going to be told twice before you entered, it was lit only with candles. You squinted your eyes and before them stood your brother.

Aeron looked up, his eyes moistened as he saw you, joy knew no bounds as it filled inside you.

“ Sister.” He was already on his feet, circling the room as he ran and took you in his arms, picking you off the floor and swinging you midair.

“ you're okay ? ” you asked him, once he let you down and he nodded, bumping your nose, “ I should ask you that.” He said grimly, shooting a glare towards Benjicot, who was watching the whole reunion with a scowl on his face.

His scowl disappeared as you followed your brother's gaze to him, smiling brightly as he waved at you.

“ Now that we are all here,” Benjicot announced, and you were suddenly aware of many other unrecognisable faces in the room, all with pride and loyalty in their eyes, “let us discuss some very important matters that have continued to become a pain in our ass.” Benji looked at Aeron, who bristled away, taking your hand as he went to sit opposite from Benji on the council table amongst his important men.

“ Not there.” Benji said sweetly to you, immediately the chair next to him was pulled, “ Little dove, here.”

You blinked, glancing at your brother whose face was clamped in a bitter line.

Remembering your place and territory, you walked to his side, sitting next to him.

“ Did you sleep well last night, darling ? ” He leaned back as wine was poured to each lord, some of them were eyeing Aeron and his men very suspiciously, some only smiled with smirks plastered to their hard faces.

You gave him one pointed look before turning back to your brother.

The council began with a very drunk man howling how House Bracken took everything from him, fluent in curses as he threw one after another before you groaned.

“ Take Lord Hawthorne away, he clearly needs rest.” Benjicot said, as two hands helped the said lord out, still telling Aeron how he could fuck himself.

“ Now that we are back again—”

“ I want my sister back.” Aeron made his point, slamming his fist, his hair falling down from his bun at the force.

“ very well.” Benji smiled, all the lords hummed or tutted, like they knew something only the Brackens didn't.

“ last time when we talked about any exchange, you stabbed me in the back.” you watched Aeron for any sign of denial, you were disappointed, shit, “ which is a metaphor, ofcourse, you talked about peace, killed my men, offered your sister and took her away from me.”

“ There was no betrothal.” Aeron said simply, avoiding your gaze. Benji's laugh was humourless, more threatening.

“ You promised and I am asking for that promise back.”

“ In no life I would let that happen.”

“ Then you will face consequences lad.” one man spoke, he was older, his skin slacked around his arms and nerves popped up blue.

“ Your brother is stupid.” Benji leaned and whispered to you, as the council crackled at the old man's words.

“ What are your terms ? ” You asked him instead, knowing Aeron's eyes on you.

Benji's mouth curved in a smirk, his nose almost brushing yours.

He looked towards your brother, to catch his eye and when he did, he became the man you met on that table years ago for the first time, chiseled jaw, mischievous eyes, beautiful and crazy.

“ Marry me.”

Something dropped and you wondered if it was your heart, but that was just Lord Fester who passed out with wine pouring out on his face, and ofcourse your heart too.

You might still survive the great war.

Navigation

[the20thangel]

The Dragon and The Raven Chapter 8 (The Cursed Gift)

Chapter Summary: Aemma tries to explain the situation about Aegon and her to Benjicot. Benjicot feels betrayed and doesn't know how he should be feeling. Will Aemma lose her husband?

Tags: angst, illness, cw: talks of potential miscarriage.

taglist: @callsignwidow @whimsicalmystic02

word count: 3319

Keep track of the story: masterlist

A long beat resounded between Benjicot, looking at his wife, while Aemma glared at the cursed gift. 

After another short beat, Aemma turned to Benji with a pleading eye, “Ben, I-” 

“What does it mean, ‘You know my heart is yours as your eye mine,’ Aemma?��� interrupted Benji, increasingly upset. 

Aemma breathed as she tried to reach her husband, who slowly backed away from her, “The ‘gift’ was from Aegon, who has a delusion that I’m in love with him, but-” 

“Why would the usurper ever think you love him?” Benjicot asked, looking at her, eyes storming. 

Aemma closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose, “When we were children, we made a stupid promise to marry each other, but it was a silly child game… it-” 

“It was real enough for him to send a blasted gift for OUR wedding, claiming that he loves you and you love him back!” shouted Benjicot angrily. 

Aemma's eyes widened in shock at his response, and she grew slightly upset. 

“It's his delusions. He is like a spoiled toddler who throws tantrums when he doesn’t get his way! I don’t love him; we were kids! Ben, you need to understand that!” exclaimed Aemma; she just wanted her husband to understand and let her explain the story calmly. 

Benjicot angrily shook his head and started walking towards the tent exit with Aemma following him, “Were you never going to tell me? Hoping that his delusions would just fade or that I am left unaware that a certain false king thinks he has a claim to MY wife?!” 

“No! I was going to tell you, but I was going to tell you after the wedding, but then the battle happened, and I didn’t think he was that crazy to send that stupid box!” Aemma explained as she tried to touch his shoulder, but Benji shoved it off. 

“I don’t know, Aemma. You told me our courtship shouldn’t start with lies, but here you start our marriage with one…” Turned Benji with tears streaming down his face. 

“I would never lie to you, Ben. I don’t love him. I don’t love any other man but you! You are my husband. I don’t want any other man but you!” Aemma started, her heart breaking into pieces, tears streaming down her face. 

Benjicot shook his head. “I don’t know; I just need time to think…. I think we should sleep in separate beds for the time being… I just need to not be with you,” he said as he walked out. 

“No! Ben… Benji… BENJICOT BLACKWOOD!” Shouted Aemma, gasping as she collapsed to the ground sobbing. 

Aemma sobbed for a few minutes before angrily turning to the cursed gift. She grabbed it with the note and threw it into the hearth of the tent. She despised Aegon; she wished Sliverwing had bitten off his head rather than his leg. All she wanted to do was be in her husband's arms, but now he wouldn’t even look at her. 

After cleaning herself up and checking that she didn’t look like she was sobbing, she had a few trusted handmaidens take a few of her things and the wedding gifts back to her tent. As she sat on her bed, Aemma stared at the fire. She couldn’t believe her marriage was going to estrangement barely a few days in… As she remembered her grandmother’s words, Aemma wondered if she should have just married for duty and not love.  For love, it hurts too much. Oh, how she wished this was a nightmare she could wake from. 

As Benjicot returned to his tent, he was muddy and sweaty. He scanned the room, and there was no sign of Aemma. He knew he had asked her to leave, but he hoped she would have disobeyed and stayed. But would he have stayed if she had? Would he have listened to her? He didn’t know; he sighed as he sat on his bed, placing his head in his hands. After a quick bath, he lay in bed, missing his wife’s warmth. 

Over the next few weeks, everyone started to notice something going on with the princess and lord, but when they were asked about it, Aemma responded that she was just tense from her grandmother’s injuries and the death of Meleys. Benjicot stated he just wanted to prepare his men for the next battle and needed to perform his mundane lordly duties. Jace and Baela were worried. Aemma was getting skinnier and had dark eye circles, but she always shook them off. 

As Rhaenyra prepared to return to Dragonstone with Jacaerys, Baela, Rhaenys, and Corlys, she worried for her daughter and good-son. She called on Aemma, and as she arrived, her daughter smiled at her, but Rhaenyra knew it was forced. 

“How are you doing, my sweet girl? I see you have been distant from your husband lately?” asked the queen. 

Aemma froze for a second. " We are doing fine, Muna . He is busy with his lordly duties, and I have been too worried about Grandmother… Kepa has also worried me, stating that we are at a considerable disadvantage now that we have lost Meleys.” 

Rhaenyra hummed but was still unsure. “Don’t worry. We discussed how we will look for … dragon seeds, those who have the blood of the dragon outside our family.” 

“I guess, but I just worry how loyal they will stay with us after they claim a dragon,” explained Aemma, hoping her mother would buy into her worries and not ask more questions.

“We would have to wait and see… but are you sure you are doing okay?” Rhaenyra asked, trying to see through her daughter's shell. 

Aemma bit her lip; she had been emotional these past few weeks but didn’t need to worry her mother. Her mother has a war to win against Aegon. 

Aemma gave her a small smile and decided to lie again: “I have just been having some nightmares lately. They… they are of grandmother dying …and of Luke.” Technically, Aemma was not lying to her mother. Even though she tried to sleep, she couldn’t. Those nightmares, along with others, made her afraid to sleep. She hated feeling helpless. 

Rhaenyra’s heart broke, “Oh, my pearl, have you told your husband? Maybe he-” 

“He knows, and he does his best… but I also don’t want to exhaust him… don’t worry, I am drinking some tea to help.” Aemma quickly lied, not wanting to talk about Benjicot; it was still too raw. 

Rhaenyra nodded but couldn’t help but think there was something else. She wouldn’t pry, though, knowing how much she hated in her youth to be constantly bothered to speak when you didn’t. 

Aemma said, “I will see you at this evening’s feast, Mother.” 

Rhaenyra smiled as she saw her daughter leave, feeling helpless. 

As Aemma walked towards her tent, she bumped into Aly. Who stated how much she missed her; Alysanne gasped at seeing Aemma’s appearance. She looked like a wilting flower. Aemma tried to ease Aly’s worries, and when she asked if Benji knew, she had to use all her might not to cry. Aemma tried to soothe Alysanne’s concerns as she excused herself, not seeing Alysanne tracking, watching her enter her tent and not into Benji’s. Aly's eyes creased with worry for her good-niece. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even though Aemma and Benjicot sat beside each other at the feast, they ignored each other. Aemma wanted to eat her meal quickly to excuse herself, but when she tried the Mutton, she wanted to gag. It tasted horrible to her, and the smell was overpowering. She glanced at the feast and saw everyone enjoying and joking around; no one seemed to mind the food like she did. Once another wave of nausea hit her, she told one of the maids to tell her mother she needed to be excused. She quietly stood and quickly walked out of the feast. 

Unbeknownst to her, Benjicot was staring as she left. He sighed and turned back to his food, not feeling the mood of the feast, when two lads jumped him from behind. Oscar and Kermit Tully had arrived and jostled him around, causing the lord to chuckle a bit. Oscar and Kermit began pestering him about his wedding and asking where his lovely princess was. 

Kermit jokingly stated, “With a princess that beautiful, he probably has her locked up so no other men can stare at her!” 

Causing Benjicot to grow cold, his hands tightening around his spoon. Oscar noticed his friend's mood and stated it was only a jest. Benjicot nodded before he stood tensely, walking out of the feast. Alysanne soon followed, but she took a different route, not wanting to let him know of her presence yet. When she passed the princess’s tent, she heard the sounds of throwing up, and the handmaidens asking the princess to call a healer. Aly, worried, rushed in and saw the princess on the floor throwing up in a bucket. Alysanne ran to the princess, telling the maid to get a healer as she helped Aemma. Aemma tried to push her away, but Aly would not budge. 

As the healer arrived, she began accessing the princess and asking her numerous questions. Aemma gave her symptoms and how she couldn’t sleep, worrying Aly more. Aly asked the healer if she knew what was causing this. 

The healer wondered, “When was your last moon blood, my princess?” 

Aemma and Aly gasped, Aemma feeling her heart drop as she remembered it was three weeks before her wedding. The Healer nodded and announced that the princess was expecting, but before Aly could rejoice, the healer told the princess that because she was frail right now, her body was at high risk of losing the babe. Aemma closed her eyes in despair; she was failing at her duty… 

Aly asked what could help the princess, making the healer respond. 

“Whatever is causing you heartache or deep unrest, princess, I suggest you fix it soon, not only for your own health but that of your babe’s, my princess.” The healer excused herself, leaving the room. 

Alysanne looked at Aemma, who started fidgeting with her rings. Aly sat beside her and pleaded with her about what was happening and why she was so stressed. Aemma finally broke down in tears, explaining the green box, the note, the argument, and the explanation she wanted to give her nephew, but he always tried to evade her. So she had given up trying to speak to him; now she needed to worry about her baby, making sure she could at least perform her duty to her husband. Alysanne embraced the princess as she grew angry; yes, the princess should have told Benjicot sooner, but for her nephew to just push away his wife, not only was he risking his relationship with their allies but with the health of his wife and unborn child. Alysanne stayed with Aemma until the princess tired herself out. Once she saw her sleeping, Aly left to scold her nephew. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why am I finding out that you have pushed your wife away from you?” shouted Alysanne, scaring Benjicort from his place. 

“What?” he asked confused. 

Aly’s nose flared as she repeated her question. Benjicot frowned and told his aunt she didn’t fully understand. This made Alysanne more upset. She stated that she knew everything, and while she could understand the betrayal, it was not severe to just push the princess away. Benjicot sighed, saying that they just needed time away from each other to think about what they wanted their marriage to be. Alysanne became furious. 

“Now I know, this isn’t about her not telling you; this is about you being self-conscious about your position as her husband. Knowing that other men find her attractive makes you scared you are going to lose her. Well, my nephew, if you were going to be one of those paranoid men, then maybe you shouldn’t have married a beautiful Valyrian princess. There will always be men lusting over her. Do you not think Ser Leanor or Prince Daemon knew about that with the Queen? But they understood their wife’s beauty and didn’t let that stop them from loving their wife. But the second you find out, a stupid man holds delusions of a stupid childhood. You give up on your marriage! Have you seen your wife, she…. She’s struggling, Ben, and you… you don’t see her fading away.” ranted Aly, tears streaming down her face, remembering what Aemma looked like. 

Benjicot was shocked; he knew his aunt was right about why he and Aemma fought. He wasn’t truly upset at Aemma for not telling him but more concerned that she would one day realize he wasn’t the best husband for her and leave. But hearing that she was struggling made Benji want to wallow in guilt. Was he genuinely ignoring her that he did not notice? 

Alysanne knew that she had finally made a breakthrough: " Please at least talk to her… let her explain fully…she’s … sick, Benjicot and your strained relationship with her is only harming her more.” Lying about being sick and not telling him about the pregnancy was princess news to bear. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Benjicot walked to Aemma’s tent. Going in, he saw her face. Her cheekbones started showing sunken, and she had dark undereye circles. His heart broke; he was the cause of this; as much as he wanted to lay in bed with her, fully acknowledging how much he missed her, he couldn’t. Walking out, he left to train, feeling the need to blow away some steam, imagining all the practice dummies to be a certain green king. 

As Aemma woke up, she noticed her breakfast was laid out but already cold. A maid told her mother had just left, not wishing to disturb the princess from sleeping. Aemma nodded as she remembered the healer’s and Aly’s words from last night. Reignited with fire, she decided: after spending time with Sliverwing, she would find her husband, make him listen, and, for their babe’s sake, have a cordial marriage if they could not have a fierce love one. 

Walking to her dragon, she could hear steel hitting something with intensity. As she turned, she saw her husband hitting the dummies with vicious and precise force. Aemma sharply inhaled; he looked handsome, fully acknowledging how much she had missed him. She walked towards him, stopping a few feet away and waiting a second before speaking. 

“Good morrow, my lord,” she spoke lightly, watching as he tensed up before turning to meet her gaze. His eyes were storming as he breathed heavily from the intense training. 

There was a moment of silence as both stared, watching the other, with only the sound of a breeze. 

“Be- My lord, I was hoping you could spare a few minutes for an audience with me?” asked Aemma. 

Benjicot cringed internally; they had not used their proper titles since the first night they met. Nodding, he walked down a path away from prying eyes as he sat on the grass, seeing how she struggled to sit down, causing a new wave of guilt to come over him. 

Aemma sat beside her husband as she asked for her fire to return to her. She could do this… for her babe. 

“I want to explain everything; I’m asking you to please listen until the very end…” pleaded Aemma, waiting until Benjicot nodded to continue. 

“When my family and I still lived in the red keep, this was when I was eight name days old, Aegon and I were watching our brothers train; he was talking about how his mother was talking about future marriages with him and how he did not want that. I took pity on him and joked about how we could marry each other, to which he agreed. He asked for a kiss to seal, and I was a naive girl, so I gave him a chaste kiss. I would have no idea if he actually took this as a promise. As I grew older and heard how he was treating the servant girls and my aunt Heleana, I decided to withdraw from him and Aemond, who is another whole situation. I have never really loved him; I will never love him. How could I love a man like him who takes things that don’t belong to him, who ruins someone's happiness? Who would gladly celebrate kin slaying? How can he compare to you, a brave fighter who takes responsibility for his family and people? Someone who has a kind heart hidden in layers of a solider. I have never had someone make me feel safe and loved like you have. You are easy to fall in love with, and I will gladly rip my heart for you to prove how much my heart belongs to you and not Aegon. I will gladly die for you. I know I broke your trust and may never win it back, and if you feel you cannot love me back, then I ask… I ask that we may be cordial with each other… for the sake of the babe.” ranted Aemma, looking down, not wanting to see his reactions. 

Benjicot gasped and stared at his wife's still flat belly… a babe… a child was growing in her body. This filled him with more guilt; he left her alone. She found out by herself and was willing to not have a loving relationship, in her thoughts, all for the babe. Benji shakenly reached out and raised her chin, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“A babe…” We are going to have a babe?” asked Benjicot as Aemma looked into his eyes and nodded. Benji took a second before he continued, “ I—I just hate that he thinks you belong to him…” Benji whispered to her. 

Aemma reached out and caressed his cheek. “I will never belong to him. I pledged my love to you before the Old Gods and the Fourteen Flames. My heart and soul belong to you and you alone. We made a blood bond; no other person will exist for me.” 

Benjicot kissed her hand, “How is the babe?” 

Once Aemma heard the question, she faltered and turned away. Benjicot turned her back to him, reminding him of when she had done the same to him. “Aemma, we promised not to lie to each other…please”. Benjicot pleaded with her as he noticed her taking a shaken breath. 

Aemma turned with tears in her eyes, “I’m at risk of losing the babe…. But I promise I will do my best to do my duty as your wife. House Blackwood will have a-” 

Benji kissed her, cutting her off, “Fuck duty, I will not lose you over a babe. If the gods wish to bless us, they will provide another babe, but they cannot give me another Aemma.” 

Aemma sobbed as she kissed him back; she had missed him so much. After sharing a sweet kiss, they stood, Benji, leading his princess to their tent. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the tent, there were faint gasps, moans, and grunts… with whispers of ‘I love you’s. Aemma lay in the arms of her husband, sleeping soundly, as Benji stared at his wife's naked and flat stomach. Their babe was growing inside there, and he almost lost them both to Aegon's fault. He now understood Rhaenyra’s and Aemma’s reasoning; in their delusions, the Greens will always hurt others to get what they deem theirs. They don’t love; they just take and ruin. They nearly destroyed his marriage, but Benjicot now knew better. He would fight for his love and family as his Aemma did. Then as Benji pulled his dragon princess closer to him, kissing her, he made a promise the next time he saw that green drunken whoremonger king, there will be a sword slicing through his fat stomach.

[neilarmstrongssmile]

Ok, I need to talk about it. The Five x Lila thing is uncomfortable and kinda gross to me. But mabye I'm not seeing the vision/my discomfort is not the reason it's a bad idea necesarilly. So... here are some reasons besides that on why it's just a bad idea:

1. Why give Five a love story at all? He had a love story, has had it the whole show - love for his family. I'm not saying he doesn't deserve romantic love (with an actual human), but knowing it's the last season and knowing they have only 6 eposodes mabye don't? Introducing the romance in the second to last episode? And developing it through a montague? It's not enough time

2. What's the purpose of the subway station to the story? The only characters on it are Five and Lila (later also Lila's family + Claire), they don't accomplish anything with it, don't find anything useful, don't learn anything new. It's an excuse to have them get lost there, so that they could fall in love. IT'S THE LAST SEASON! Don't waste a cool location like that! Why didn't other characters get there? Why didn't they get Bennifer there and put Ben on one train and Jennifer on another while they think of another permanent safe solution? Use the subway station for actual plot or get rid of it - and that way we don't have the out-of-character falling in love crap

3. Ok, thay are lost, it's been years, they are loosing hope, they are clinging to the only other real thing. There's no guilt? No talk of Diego, Lila's children? There's no false start? They just kiss, remark it's not weird and live idyllicly together? I don't need depressing scenes of them crying for their family and hating themselves for being together, but what we got was not a relationship created by necessity but a normal falling in love story as if Lila isn't MARRIED CURRENTLY to Five's BROTHER! There should be some weirdness, some discussion of what exactly their relationship is, what would happen if they managed to come back. It's inconsistent (with previous characterisation but that's another thing) - are they genuinly in love, or using each other? Is Lila trully happy and in love, or pretending, while being desperate to come back to reality with Diego and her kids? They seem really in love, but after Five finally (5 months!?!?? WTF that's gross) shows Lila the notebook and she leaves she makes it seem as if she's choosing Diego and her marriage. But then she cannot answer 'Do you love him?', gives Five longing glances, is holding his hand... I know that she could be confused and unsure but it doesn't seem as if she doesn't know, it seems like she acts in the way for all the scenes to be dramatic even if it contradicts what happened previously.

4. So they manage to go back, Lila doesn't immedietly confess to Diego, and when the truth comes out Five is mad? He is in the wrong! He went after his brother's wife, he should be apologetic, he should feel weird to be in Diego's home, not combative. Yeah, your love life is complicated and not everything is roses after your return but it's on you YOU WENT AFTER A MARRIED WOMAN! WITH KIDS! And you're mad at her husband for being mad at you? No, he should be ashamed. And ok, get mad later, say that you were finally happy, and now it's gone, scream it at Lila or Diego, but not from the get go. That makes him seem like such a scumbag .

5. You wanted Five to have a romance. In my opinion unnecessary, but do you. You wanted it to be with Lila. In my opinion very weird choice, but sure. Why have Lila and Diego married? We have a 6 year time skip. They could have been just co-parenting and no longer together (and never married). Why make a subplot where Diego thinks Lila is cheating on him (as a joke) to then make it a reality? Why not have Diego and Lila have this season to grow close as friends and co-parent as a unit after years of conflict and have Diego be supportive of this weird incestuous relationship? (TUA unfortunately is no stranger to that, and UA already has weird and complicated relationships all around) instead of falling apart in such a fashion? IT'S THE LAST SEASON at the very least have all our main characters go out without conflict with each other. Five's lat words to Diego were 'I'm gonna kill you'.

It seems they made this whole thing as messy as possible, but then didn't dive deep into the mess to have some actual drama, didn't adress the mess, didn't vindicate any of those characters. And if you're just creating mess and don't engage with it, and it's THE LAST SEASON mabye you should've just left it alone - Lila and Diego together and happy, and Five doing everything to be with his family, safe. I'm dissapointed.

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

TUA Tumblr Simulator pt. 1

Find more here: pt. 2

—

🪩traumallama Follow

The Umbrella Academy never should have existed. Those were CHILDREN!! They were THIRTEEN when they first appeared! They KILLED people! Two of them DIED! It really goes to show how much you can do if you have money

FUCK Reginald Hargreeves

🌺thinkingthings Follow

Wait 5 DIED?!

🪩 traumallama Follow

It was never confirmed, but honestly, seems the most likely that they would have just covered it up. If he's still alive, I hope he got to live a nice life without that cult

10,846 notes

💗L0veOnLo4n Follow

Every journalist, interviewer, fan, whatever, who is asking Allison Hargreeves about her brothers or her father should just be sent to space. How would you like it if I bring up your childhood trauma constantly?

🌫️love-h4te-whatevs Follow

Didn't she like kill people?

💗L0veOnLo4n Follow

She was a CHILD! It was all planned by their father, he was the one who "trained" them. He should go to prison but that won't ever happen. Not to mention he didn't just adopt those children, he bought them

3,245 notes

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

WE GOT A BEHIND THE SCENES UMBRELLA ACADEMY BOOK OWNDNAOWOE

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

I am so excited to go read this

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Starting off: WOW Reginald Hargreeves was an even bigger asshole behind closed doors. Who would have thought?

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Okay, okay okay WHAT WHAT WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!!

ALLISON Hargreeves and Spaceboy were IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER?!

WEREN'T THEY LIKE SIBLINGS?!

I know the book says that they weren't really a family... But they were?? They are clearly described as brothers and sisters?

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Had to put the book down for a while

Gosh, that so surprised me

I used to have the BIGGEST crush on Spaceboy but now I doubt I can think of them the same way ever again

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Calmed down, I'll continue now

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

BIG MISTAKE, BIG MISTAKE

WHY ARE YOU TELLING US ABOUT THE TIME YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU AT DINNER THAT YOUR BROTHER HAD HIS FIRST WET DREAM!

That does NOT belong in a book!

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Drug addiction by age 13, damn

🌕eyestothesun Follow

Wait who was addicted to drugs

🌨️twirlingandwhirling Follow

The Séance. Kinda surprised so many people are shocked about this. There are quite a few interviews with them in which it is just blatantly obvious. Look at his eyes in this one for example. Or in this one he is so chill, not really there, but his siblings do all the talking

🌳drrrrreams Follow

Wow first time I've heard about this but this is so... Incredibly sad.

👥lurkeringlurrlurr Follow

Honestly? I'm more surprised that not more of them are addicts after all they've been through

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Thanks for the additions!

Five's tragical disappearance. This is the worst part of it by far. They were so close and you can just feel the grief. And to never know what happened, damn

And one of their brothers can see dead people...

I don't know if I'd want to ask him or not. Asking for closure's sake, but if you don't, there is still hope that he'll come back some day.

This is just so sad

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Spoke too soon, it can get sadder

Ben was their glue, his death was so brutal. He died so young and so painful, I can't imagine what that must be like. For him or for the siblings.

No wonder they disbanded after that. It makes you question your own mortality

8,799 notes

🚵rolly-molly Follow

Wait what happened to Spaceboy? Did he give up on missions and move out?

🤺theyseemen0t Follow

He died

🚵rolly-molly Follow

WHAT

🤺theyseemen0t Follow

I mean, it was never confirmed, but he got really badly injured on his last mission, lethally, and hasn't been seen since

🚵rolly-molly Follow

I had no idea. Rest in Peace

🍇thelandbeforewine Follow

False news, he got injured, but he survived. Otherwise we would have known about it from "Extra Ordinary" which came out last week, given that all the other family secrets were shared in it.

🚵rolly-molly Follow

Ohh, thank you so much! That makes me really happy, I was really worried

2,840 notes

[cheynovak]

Echoes and Shadows - Part 2  

Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N           

Warnings:  Fights, murder, cursing, flash backs, ... 

Side note: English isn’t my first language    

Words:  3000

 

*Does not follow the boys storyline * 

--    

In the 1950, Soldier Boy had to train a train a young girl supe named Y/N, she had a "nice girl next door" persona. Soldier Boy hated it at first, until they started to work together, he seemed to start to like this kid.  

Years passed and Y/N didn’t seem to age a lot either. To her it seemed that Ben started to respect her. The two of them worked together just fine until his team Payback was assembled.  

His relationship with Crimson made her feel alone, and her bond with Noir made him jealous. It goes without saying her and Crimson Countess where never best friends.  

-- 

Back home in America, The Boys regrouped in their makeshift headquarters, tending to their wounds and planning their next move. Y/N felt a persistent knot in her chest, a mixture of unease and unresolved feelings.  

She hated the idea of leaving Ben alone in Russia. Butcher noticed her emotions. ”Relax love, he is the Russians problem now.” She couldn’t help but to look angry. “Exactly, he has been locked up for decennia! And I left him there!”  

Hughie seemed to be the only one who understood her reaction. ”I’m sure he’ll be ok.” She pinched her nose. “You don’t get it, I blamed myself for what happened to him. I hated myself for not being able to safe him.”  

“And now, now he is alive and probably confused... that makes him dangerous Hughie.” With a sigh she walked to the door. “Oi, where are you going?” Butcher asked. “You take care of Kimiko. I need to know what happened in Nicaragua.”  

“But you were there, weren’t you?” Hughie asked. Y/N felt the same wash over her. “I don’t remember anything, only that I woke up in the hospital and that someone told me Ben was gone.”  

Her hand on the doorknob, “Where are you going?” Hughie’s voice sounded scarred. “To visit an old friend.” And with that she closed the door behind her.  

She decided to seek out Crimson Countess, hoping to find some answers or at least a sense of closure. As Y/N arrived at the venue where Crimson Countess was performing, she couldn't help but notice the garish posters and promotional material.  

The sight triggered a vivid flashback, pulling her back to 1976.  

-- 

It was a glamorous night, the premiere of a new movie featuring Payback. Y/N and Crimson Countess stood in the ladies' room, adjusting their outfits and touching up their makeup.  

The room was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter, but an underlying tension hung between them. Crimson Countess, in her dazzling red dress, turned to Y/N with a smug smile. "You know," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "Ben and I are fucking.” 

“Congrats... You and many, many other women.” Y/N said in an uninterested tone while she touched up her lipstick. “He'll be mine, you’ll see, you’re just jealous that after all these years you still haven’t found the way to his heart."  

Y/N laughed, though the sound was hollow and forced. "Good luck with that. Ben doesn't do relationships." Crimson's eyes sparkled with a malicious gleam. "Oh, you think you're so special to him, don't you? Always so close to him, like a little lapdog. But face it, Y/N, he’ll never see you that way. He needs someone hot, someone who can match him in his needs."  

Y/N felt a pang of jealousy and anger, but she kept her composure. "Whatever you say. If you think you can handle him, be my guest. Just where do you think he spends most of his free time."  

Crimson stepped closer, her tone turning more venomous. "Don't act so high and mighty. I know you two don’t fuck, he told me he spends his time with you because you’re needy for his approval, crying about your little weak feelings. You’re just his little annoying sister he can’t get rid of."  

Y/N met her gaze, refusing to back down. "I know what kind of man Ben is. If you want to play your games, go ahead. But don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart." The confrontation left Y/N feeling unsettled, the seeds of doubt and jealousy taking root.  

She tried to shake it off, but the encounter lingered in her mind, gnawing at her unable to look at Ben that night, afraid she was right.  

-- 

The flashback faded, and Y/N found herself standing outside Crimson Countess's trailer. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the encounter ahead. As she knocked on the door and it opened, Crimson Countess turned to face her, a knowing smile playing on her lips.  

"Well, well, look who it is," she purred. Y/N stepped inside, her resolve firm. "We need to talk, "Crimson Countess raised an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "About what? The good old times?"  

Y/N clenched her fists, forcing herself to remain calm. "About Ben." Crimson Countess's smile widened, her expression triumphant. "Ah, Ben... Still can't get him out of your head, can you?"  

Y/N ignored the bait, her voice steady. "I want answers. No games, no manipulation. Just the truth." Crimson Countess leaned back, her smile never wavering. "Alright, Y/N. Let's talk. But remember, the truth isn’t always what you want to hear."  

She took a deep breath, pushing aside the painful memories and the jealousy that still lingered from years past. "I need to know what happened that day in Nicaragua," Y/N said, her voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of urgency.  

"No games, Crimson. Just tell me the truth." Crimson Countess leaned back in her chair, a sly smile playing on her lips. "You want me to talk about Ben? Fine" 

She began recounting the intimate details of her with Ben, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "He took me like no one else ever has. It was wild, passionate. He made me feel things I never thought possible. It’s a shame you never got to experience that.”  

Y/N rolled her eyes, her patience wearing thin. "You know that's not what I mean." Crimson's expression shifted, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. "You still think you’re so above it all, don’t you? If you really want to know, he was killed by a weapon from the Russians. Some experimental thing they cooked up. It hit him, and that was it. He’s gone." 

Y/N's anger flared, her fists clenching at her sides. "You expect me to believe that? You’re hiding something. I can see it in your eyes." Crimson Countess stood up, her eyes blazing with defiance.  

"Believe whatever you want, Y/N. But the fact remains, he’s dead. And nothing you do or say will change that." Y/N stepped closer, her voice low and intense, her eyes burning with fury. "You're full of bullshit, Crimson. He's alive, you know it... and I know." Crimson Countess's smug expression faltered, shock registering in her eyes.  

"What? That's impossible." Y/N pressed on, her anger giving her strength. "Tell me the truth, Crimson. What really happened?" Crimson hesitated, then her shoulders slumped in resignation.  

"It was Noir and Vought’s idea. They made the plan to get rid of him. They saw him as a liability, someone who couldn't be controlled. And Payback... we were happy to help." The revelation hit Y/N like a punch to the gut, but her anger only intensified.  

"You betrayed him. You all did." Crimson's eyes flashed with defiance. "He was a Tiran, an asshole! For all of us, only you... his little sweetheart you could never do anything wrong!" The tension reached a boiling point. Y/N couldn't hold back any longer.  

"You used him for your fame, and to hurt me. You never cared about him." Crimson's smile was bitter. "Do you finally get it? It was always about me, about climbing higher. And you? You were just collateral damage."  

Without warning, Crimson lashed out, her hands aimed at Y/N. Instinctively, Y/N blocked the attack and redirected the blow. Crimson stumbled backward, hitting her head hard against the edge of a table. She crumpled to the floor, motionless.  

Y/N's heart raced, the room spinning around her. "Crimson?" she whispered, fear creeping into her voice. She knelt beside Crimson, shaking her burned body gently. "Come on, wake up." But there was no response. Crimson Countess wasn't breathing.  

Panic surged through Y/N. She hadn't meant for this to happen. It was supposed to be a confrontation, a chance to get answers, not... this. She checked for a pulse, her hands trembling. Nothing. The realization hit her like a freight train, Crimson was dead it was her fault. Y/N's mind raced, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.  

"I... I didn't mean to," she whispered to herself, trying to process the gravity of what had just happened. In a state of sheer panic, Y/N realized the gravity of her situation. The room seemed to close in around her, her mind racing with the implications of what had just transpired.  

She knew she had to act quickly to cover her tracks. Her powers surged within her, fuelled by the adrenaline and fear coursing through her veins. She focused on the cameras outside the trailer, her hands trembling as she summoned her energy. With a burst of concentrated force, she sent a pulse of energy toward the cameras, shattering them into pieces.  

Sparks flew, and the security system went dark. Breathing heavily, Y/N turned her attention to the trailer itself. She knew she had to destroy it, to erase any trace of what had happened inside. The fire spread quickly, fuelled by the panic and desperation in Y/N's heart.  

She watched as the flames devoured the room, the heat intense against her skin. She knew she had to leave before the fire attracted attention, before anyone could see her. As she disappeared into the darkness, Y/N's mind raced with the knowledge of what she had just done.  

Once back home, Y/N found herself spiralling into a vortex of memories, each one a painful reminder of the tangled relationships and betrayals that had defined her past. She remembered Noir, a friend, a great friend, who had been there for her when she needed someone the most.  

Despite Ben's hatred towards him, Noir had always been a steadfast companion for her. In her mind's eye, she drifted back to the training grounds of Payback, a moment that had stayed with her through the years.  

-- 

It was a hot afternoon, the sun beating down on the training field where the members of Payback were honing their skills. Y/N and Noir were sparring, their movements fluid and precise, each strike met with a well-timed block.  

There was an unspoken camaraderie between them, a mutual respect that had grown over time. "You're getting faster," Noir said, his voice muffled by his mask but tinged with a hint of admiration.  

Y/N smiled, adjusting her stance. "And you're as unpredictable as ever." Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. The doors to the training facility burst open, and Ben stormed in, his expression a mask of rage. He marched straight towards Noir, his fists clenched at his sides. 

"You think you can go behind my back?" Ben roared, his voice echoing through the space. "Talking to Edgar about a solo movie? Who do you think you are?" Noir didn't have a chance to respond before Ben's fist connected with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. 

The air was thick with tension as Ben continued his assault, his punches landing with brutal force. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she watched, her mind racing. She couldn't stand by and let this happen.  

Summoning her courage, she stepped forward, grabbing Ben's arm as he raised it to deliver another blow. "Stop it, Ben!" she shouted, her voice firm and commanding. "That's enough!" Ben turned to her, his eyes blazing with fury.  

"Stay out of this, Y/N. He needs to learn his place." Y/N held her ground, her grip on his arm tightening. "He's part of this team, just like the rest of us. You don't get to treat him like this." For a moment, it looked like Ben might lash out at her too, but something in her eyes made him hesitate.  

He pulled his arm free, his breath ragged and angry. "This isn't over," he snarled, glaring down at Noir before storming out of the room. Y/N knelt beside Noir, her concern evident. "Are you okay?" Noir nodded, wincing as he touched his bruised face.  

She helped him to his feet, their bond strengthened by the encounter. They had always looked out for each other, and that day was no different.  

-- 

The flashback faded, leaving Y/N with a heavy heart. She missed Noir, but now, knowing he was behind it all. She needed to confront Noir, to understand his role in the plan to get rid of Ben, and to find out if their friendship had been real or just another deception.  

The next day, Y/N walked into Vought Tower with a determined stride, her mind set on finding Noir. The memories of the previous night and the confrontation with Crimson Countess weighed heavily on her, but she knew she had to push forward. She needed answers, and Noir was the key.  

As she navigated the sleek, modern halls of Vought, her presence seemed to draw curious glances from employees and staff. She ignored them, focusing on her goal. However, just as she reached the elevators, she was intercepted by Homelander.  

"Y/N, what a surprise," Homelander said, his voice dripping with false charm. He flashed his perfect, unnerving smile. "Big fan of your work. Can I help you with something?" Y/N forced a smile, keeping her expression neutral. "Just here to see an old friend. Is Noir around?" 

Homelander's smile didn't waver, but his eyes seemed to pierce right through her. "Noir? Funny you should mention him. Why don't we have a little chat first?" Before she could protest, he guided her into a nearby conference room, closing the door behind them.  

The room was stark and clinical, a sharp contrast to the tension that filled the space. "So, Y/N," Homelander began, leaning casually against the table, "I know about the little incident with Crimson Countess. Quite a mess you left behind. Care to explain why you killed her?" 

Y/N's heart raced, but she kept her composure. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't seen Crimson Countess in years." Homelander's smile vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze. "Don't play dumb with me. We both know that's not true. And now you're here, looking for Noir. Another old team member. What are you really up to?"  

Y/N met his gaze, refusing to back down. "I have no idea what you're insinuating, Homelander. I'm just trying to reconnect with an old friend." For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.  

Then, to her surprise, Homelander's expression softened into a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Alright, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt," he said, stepping aside. "But remember, I'm always watching." Y/N nodded, her heart pounding as she left the room. Homelander's presence was like a dark cloud, but she couldn't let it deter her.  

As Y/N walked down the corridor, her thoughts still lingering on the tense encounter with Homelander, she passed a break room where several Vought employees were gathered around a television. Their faces were etched with shock and fear as they watched the news broadcast.  

"... downtown Manhattan is in chaos after a massive explosion earlier today," the news anchor was saying, the footage behind him showing a scene of devastation, buildings reduced to rubble, fires raging, and people fleeing in terror.  

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of the blast on the screen. The signature of the explosion, the intensity of the radiation, it was unmistakable. She knew it all too well. "Ben..." she whispered.  

He had made it to America. The realization hit her like a tidal wave. The man she had once known, trained with, and cared for was now a living weapon unleashed upon the city. Her mind raced with questions and fears. What was he doing here? What was his plan? And most importantly, how could she stop him before more lives were lost?  

Y/N raced to the crime scene in downtown Manhattan, her mind a whirlwind of fear and determination. The devastation was even more harrowing in person, the charred remains of buildings, the acrid smell of smoke, and the sounds of sirens and frantic voices.  

Emergency responders were everywhere, trying to manage the chaos. As she pushed through the throngs of people, she spotted Butcher, Hughie, and MM among the crowd, their expressions grim as they surveyed the destruction.  

She made her way towards them, her heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation. Butcher noticed her first, his eyes narrowing as she approached. "What the bloody hell are you doin' here?" Y/N didn't waste any time on pleasantries.  

She locked eyes with him, her voice edged with urgency and defiance. "You still think he's the Russians' problem?" Butcher's jaw tightened, and for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. Butcher looked from MM to Y/N, his eyes piercing and questioning.  

"You think you can stop him?" he asked, his tone sceptical but hopeful. Y/N hesitated, the weight of the task pressing down on her. She knew Ben was more powerful than her, his strength and abilities far surpassing her own. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty.  

"Ben has always been stronger than me, but I’ll try." Butcher's gaze softened slightly, a rare moment of understanding. "We'll back you up, love. Just tell us what you need." Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her resolve. "We need to find out where he's likely to go next. Butcher and MM's eyes meet...  

"The legend" 

------

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @call-me-mrs-winchester @muhahaha303 @deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @loving4ngel

[babygirlbenji]

Last Train To London - Mason Mount

A/N: This is just pure sadness. It was fun to write, I'll give you that, but you may need a tissue. Mason, buddy, in this fic, ya done fucked up.

Listen to this while reading:

Warnings: Angst

It had happened slowly, then before you knew it, you and Mason were like passing ships in the ocean. 

Your relationship had always been steadfast. You were the couple everyone wanted to be, everyone wanted what you had. His family adored you, especially Summer, who loved going shopping with her Auntie Y/N. His mum swore up and down right from the moment she had met you six months into your relationship that you were it for him, that you would be the one he would marry. He’d shared the same sentiments. In your nearly four years together, the fans had grown to know and adore you on a level no football wife or girlfriend had experienced before. You were so popular among the Chelsea team, it was no wonder you were almost as popular as Mason was, and you didn’t even play for the team. 

In the weeks leading up to his move to Manchester, however, you had noticed a distinct change in Mason, and in your relationship. Date nights had gone from three or four times a week, to maybe once every fortnight. He spent much of the evenings on the phone or on Zoom calls with his agent, with the medical teams, with Manchester United representatives. The morning cuddles in bed had been replaced by a swift kiss on your forehead before he hurried off to training or the gym. You had initially put his distance down to the fact that he was busy upping his whole life to the north, and his occasional snappiness to the fact that he was incredibly stressed about the rumours. He was getting hate from everywhere, the fans, media outlets, even people on the street. Calling him a traitor, disloyal, every name under the sun. 

Once the transfer was completed and you and Mason had relocated to Manchester, you had hoped that your relationship would improve. You put in every effort you could; making sure you put extra effort into making sure the house was spick and span for when he came home, ensuring the fridge had all sorts of food for every occasion, making sure you looked good even when you were going to bed. 

And yet, you could tell none of it was good enough. His heart had drifted, you could see that. You were holding on to false hope, and it was exhausting you. You spent hours awake at night, noticing that some nights he wouldn’t come home until three or four in the morning. He would shuffle about downstairs, and the next morning, you would find him crashed out on the sofa, eyes red and his hair messy. 

You’d asked him if he was okay, if your relationship was okay, and all he had offered you was a shrug, saying he’d talk when he was ready. You’d sigh, knowing you were losing him, and there was nothing you could do about it. Once, he’d got angry that you had sighed, saying there was still a lot going on. You’d ended up having a shouting match that lasted well into the night, and you cried yourself to sleep on more than one occasions.

The loneliness you were starting to feel crept in even more. You missed your friends in London, you missed Chelsea, you were never particularly keen on moving up north, having been a born and bred Londoner. Although Kai and Sophia were now in North London, you would rather be closer to them. You didn’t want to admit to them that you and Mason were having issues, but you didn’t know where else to go. 

Sophia had been so helpful, offering her and Kai’s new home to you anytime you needed it. You’d asked her not to tell anyone, but you figured one way or another people would find out. Sure enough, one day, when Mason was out somewhere, Ben sent you a message.

Benjamin: Hey Y/N, just checking in. How are you holding up? I know how difficult it is moving to a new place. We miss you down here. Lots of love x

You had stared at his message for about five minutes, before you rang him. He picked up on the second ring.

‘Benji, I’m not okay,’ you croaked through the lump in your throat.

‘What’s happened, darling? Talk to me, I’m right here.’ And so, you told him everything. About the arguments, the loneliness, the distance…

‘I just don’t know what to do, Benj. I feel like we’re miles away from each other when we live in the same house. What did I do wrong? What happened to us? I thought we were endgame. What do I do?’ He sighed, making the line go crackly. 

‘You’ve done nothing wrong. I think everything’s gone to his head, and without wanting to be blunt, he’s realised what he wants and what he doesn’t want.’ His words sent a stake through your heart, but you knew he was right. Mason was falling out of love with you. 

‘I just never thought this would happen.’ 

‘Me neither. All of us thought you guys would last. So, what are you going to do?’ You looked down. You knew what you had to do, as much as it shattered your heart. 

‘I’m going to pack my things, as much as I can into whatever bags I have, and get on the last train home to London. It’s late, I think the last train to London from Manchester leaves just before midnight. I just can’t hold on any longer, you know? I’ve been miserable for weeks, and he’s barely noticed. I can’t remember the last time we hugged, kissed. I need to do this for me.’ 

‘I’ll pick you up, text me where your train gets in and I’ll be there. You’re not going through this alone, Y/N, I promise you. He’s the idiot for losing a wonderful girl like you.’ As devastated as you were, his words made you feel slightly better knowing that you weren’t going through it alone. You’d been through a break up before and had been completely on your own, and you were glad you had your people around you. 

You and Ben talked a little while longer, before you hung up, promising to tell him when your train would be getting in. You sat up from the sofa, knowing you had to pack a bag or two. 

It was nearly 11:30 at night when you’d finished packing. Placing your bags by the door, you made sure you had all your important things, like your passport, driving licence and your phone. You would iron out everything once you had things sorted out in London.

As you zipped up a little shoulder bag with all your necessities, the front door opened. You heard Mason drop his bags down, and you knew by the pause of movement that he had seen your bags. He walked slowly into the dimly lit kitchen, where you were standing with your phone in your hand, pretending to look at something just to avoid looking at him. You knew if you did look at him, you’d reverse your decision. 

‘What’s going on?’ Mason asked, voice full of confusion. You braved it, and looked him dead in the eye, hands on your hips.

‘I’m leaving. I’ll be on the last train back to London.’ He opened and closed his mouth a few times, reminding you of a goldfish.

‘What? What are you talking about?’ You let out a soft scoffing laugh.

‘I’m going back home. I’m breaking up with you, Mason, I can’t do this anymore. You have barely looked at me the last few weeks. I get it’s been stressful, I get you’ve been busy, but you don’t think you could have told me what was going on? You’re barely here anymore, I barely see you. And when I do, it’s like I’m seeing a stranger. When was the last time you hugged me? The last time you kissed me? This just doesn't feel like home.’ Your voice broke on the last sentence, and you looked down. You couldn’t cry. Not now, not in front of him. You had to wait until you were on the train home to let it all out. You could listen to sad music and let it all out. ‘The last four years have been amazing. We have grown up together, basically. And we’ve made the most amazing memories, hell, the Champions’ League, the Super Cup, World Cup, Euros, it’s all been a dream come true. But we have to face it, we are not happy together anymore. And I need to do what’s best for me, because I feel like a stranger in my own home.’

His face was a mix of anger, disappointment and downright heartache. He knew he’d lost you. He knew you well enough that you had made your mind up, and there was nothing he could do to turn back time and make it better. 

‘I have tried so hard…’ Your voice broke again. ‘I have tried so hard to make us work. I kept the house tidy, I put food on the table, I was there to listen but you never talked. You never made any effort after we moved up here. I dare to think this started even before we moved up here.’ He stepped closer, and it was then that you could see the tears pooling in his eyes. ‘I really hope you find the girl of your dreams, Mase. You deserve that. And I hope this move was worth it all.’ You looked down at the promise ring he’d given to you on your second anniversary. Sliding it off and gently placing it onto the counter, you took a deep breath. ‘Goodbye, Mason.’ 

And with that, you walked past him and collected your bags. Your Uber was waiting outside to take you to Manchester Central. As the car sped away, you saw Mason running out of the house, yelling your name. 

‘Y/N! Y/N, please wait! I’m sorry…’ His pleas faded as the car drove away. The driver looked at you through the rearview mirror, but you stared stubbornly out of the window. You couldn’t turn back now, he had to feel the pain you had been feeling the last few weeks. You had so many things to sort out when you were back in London; a job, a flat, your car, everything just seemed so overwhelming. 

As you climbed onto the high-speed sleeper train bound for King’s Cross, you texted Ben to tell him that your train would get in about 3 in the morning. He messaged you back:

Benjamin: No worries, will bring food. Keep strong, I'm so proud of you x

The train pulled away, and you rested your head against the window. Your breath fogged the glass as the lights of Manchester gradually faded away, giving way to dark fields and the occasional small village. Your phone pinged with another message:

Mason: I’m so sorry. 

Then another.

Mason: Please forgive me. 

And another.

Mason: What can I do to make things better? 

You looked at his last message. What could he do to make things better? Rewind the last few weeks? You sighed as your finger acted without thought and blocked his number. You then went onto Instagram and blocked his main verified account, then his private account. Before you blocked his private account, however, you had a final glance at the photos of your relationship that littered it. His main account was football focused, but anyone who followed his private account could see he’d worshipped the ground you walked on. Tears were falling thick and fast down your cheeks. What had happened to you? You locked your phone, resting your head on your arms. 

The future was uncertain and your heart was aching, but you were going to be back in London, surrounded by your people. You knew that somehow, some day, you were going to be okay. 

[creepy-friday]

Ok ok hear me out 👀

What if, instead of fem! Proxy, we got a fem! Human maid 👀👀👀

Like the Slenderman chose her to take care of the mansions needs such as: cleanliness, general functioning (like electrical management, house repair, etc...), food management, etc...

But she isn't a demon nor proxy, but a human dragged into this life (The Operator is a cruel silly guy)

The Proxies have to watch over her so other residents don't mess with her, and also so she doesn't run away.

THE POWER DYNAMIC WOULD BE THROUGH THE ROOF 😭

YOU'RE BACK<3 this prompt is interesting ngl👀👀 I included more characters for the spice

Creepypasta x Maid!Reader

Characters Included: Proxy focused

Warnings: suggestive/NSFW themes,non-con/dub-con mentions,violence,misogyny,drugs and mental illness references

The difference between the power dynamics between you and the other residents are catastrophically huge

Once Slenderman took you in,he made sure that you understand what your role is from the start.It was a cruel time for him to make the decision to bring an innocent human in a manor full of deranged people,but in his mind he took the right decision

The first sick people who viewed you as a fuck toy would be Masky and Jeff

Since you're in the care of proxies,you are somwhat lucky,the others would mostly keep their hands to themselves

Maybe except Ben who has no restrictions by being a literal ghost,so I can totally see him messing with you for a while

The fact that you are a maid might give the others the opportunity to discover a new kink btw

Masky would slap your ass as you clean the windows "good job,get that body moving"

He's a whiny little bitch.He would scream at you if you missed a spot,if you were late to cook dinner by a minute or if he simply needs your assistance with whatever bullshit he makes up

He even called you to prepare him a bath and harassed you in the bathroom,even threating to drown you for his sick entertainment

The way you look up to him makes his dick hard,he doesn't care if the others find gross that he gets off on the power imbalance,he feels good about it

The only good thing he does is not letting the others fuck with you it doesn't apply to Hoodie

Sure,he might threaten to punish you by letting Jeff has his way with you,but we all know his pride won't let him to let you get fucked by another man yeah,once more,it doesn't apply to Hoodie

Right after a bloody mission he would bring you to his room and make you suck him off "How's it feel to have the dirty work done?Right where you belong"

Washing the blood off of their clothes it's a nightmare.Sometimes,the white masked man would try to scare you by saying all the messed up things he did to get them this red

Toby was happy he can look after a girl ngl.After seeing how scared and lost you are,he decided to make himself your safe space

But even then,he saw you as an opportunity to break himself into,it was a selfish tought,but he really craved to be your "knight in shining armor"

He actually started to stand his ground whenever Masky would start to harass him in front of you,and even if he would get beat up and would shame retreat in his shell for a few days,this boy doesn't give up

I can see him letting you escape in the forest if you pull the right strings,but the fear of what Slenderman would do to both yourself and him made Toby to get you back crying

INSTEAD,he goes on walks with you in the forest whenever you are free,just to give you that false sense of freedom

Even if it's just your job to clean,cook and do household chores,he views them as more intimate and might get romantic feelings towards you he has no self respect

Hoodie would play a lot of mind games with you,sometimes he would make you think he's your ally,sometimes he would give the impression that he's just another wolf from the hungry pack

He actually let you run free in the forest for a few minutes and waited for you to get your hopes up until he would show up from behind and get you back

"Gothca" he said,tackling you to the ground as one of his hands rested on your waist and the other one on the back of your head "let's get you back,shall we?awwwh,don't cry now,you know I wouldn't hurt you!Now I can't say the same about the others if they knew you got this far..so let's keep this between the two of us,what do ya' say?"

The son of a bitch would also blackmail you into having sex with him so that he can "protect you" or so that "he wouldn't snitch about your plans of running away"

Even if your plans would be top tier,he would know about them and would make sure to tear them down as slow as the light in your eyes fade away

If you're feisty he wouldn't feel the need to fight with you,but would rather keep him interested into bringing you down

But if you're on the docile side he would still take it as a challenge to himself,to see in how much time he can make you his loyal puppy

The manor is huge,four floors with large windows where a lot of dust piles up,especially on the inhibited last floor where The Operator works

I can see Masky making you work naked at a busy hour of the day, just for his fucked up entertainment,throwing some nasty comments while burning cigarette buts on your soft skin

EJ would watch from a distance,mercy and guilt piling up in his chest.Altough he doesn't see you as prey,he would certainly think of you as a safe resort to call when his heats/bloodlust appears

Jane would nod her head and advert her eyes,often even asking you if you're okay,just trying to make you feel..a little cared for

Natalie would argue a lot about you with Masky,but after all she's just a resident and Tim is still a proxy at the end of the day.She can't do anything about it.

All in all,your life in the mansion would be assured to be a long one,and depending on your behaviour you can make it a less traumatizing pressuring experience

[naboospeopleprincess]

Out of all your bad habits, prancing around your dimly lit bedroom in lingerie may be the worst. Not because you look bad in lingerie—God forbid—but because getting too engrossed in your music can attract attention. The wrong kind of attention.

You adjusted your silk robe, tying it snugly at the waist, your hair still in rollers as you leaned over your vanity. The eyeliner in your hand was steady, your precision sharp despite the buzz of anticipation swirling inside you. First dates always had that effect: the flowers, the awkward small talk that eventually melted into laughter, the dreamy drives back home. The whole euphoric, romantic cliché.

The doorbell’s chime broke your trance, the sound piercing through the music playing softly in the background. A giddy smile tugged at your lips as you stood, smoothing your robe before walking toward the door. You were hoping for flowers. Maybe your date decided to surprise you with something sweet.

But as you opened the door, the smile froze on your face.

Billy Loomis stood there, a smug smirk plastered on his face, a pizza box balanced casually in one hand. He looked... unbothered

.

Like he had every reason to be standing on your porch. But his presence made no sense.

"Well, this is awkward," he drawled, his eyes unapologetically roaming over your figure. His smirk widened as he leaned slightly against the doorframe. "You’re all dressed up, and here I am, delivering pizza."

Your stomach twisted uneasily, though you tried to mask it with irritation. "What the hell are you doing here, Billy? Pizza delivery? Really?"

Billy tilted his head, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Got a job to do, sweetheart. Someone ordered dinner, so here I am."

The pizza box in his hand was pristine, the logo still bright. But there was something off—something that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts.

"Where’s the regular guy?" you asked sharply, your eyes narrowing. "Ben always delivers my pizza."

Billy’s smile didn’t falter. "Ben couldn’t make it," he said easily, voice dripping with false sweetness. "Guess you’re stuck with me."

You tightened your grip on the door, suddenly aware of how vulnerable you were. "Cut the crap, Loomis. You’re not here to deliver pizza, so what do you want?"

"Maybe I just wanted to see you," he said, stepping forward slightly, his tone playful but his eyes... cold. "You’re looking real nice tonight. Fancy dinner plans?"

"None of your business," you snapped, stepping back instinctively. "Now, get out of here before I call someone."

His smile faltered, just slightly, replaced by something darker. "Oh, you won’t be calling anyone," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. He pushed the door open wider, stepping into the entryway as you stumbled back.

The pizza box slipped from his hand, falling to the floor with a dull thud. Your eyes followed it instinctively, and that’s when you saw it—dark stains smeared across the side of the box.

"Billy," you said, your voice trembling. "Where’s Ben? Where’s my date?"

His smirk returned, sharp and menacing. "You’re wasting all this energy thinking about the wrong people, doll. Your date wasn’t worth your time anyway. And Ben? Let’s just say... he won’t be interrupting us tonight."

Your heart stopped, the weight of his words sinking in. The unease turned to full-blown terror as you stared at him, his cold, unrelenting gaze pinning you in place.

"You should be thanking me, really," he continued, stepping closer. "Saved you from some loser who didn’t deserve you. And Ben? Well, he was just collateral. Nothing personal."

You stumbled backward, shaking your head. "You’re insane," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Billy laughed softly, low and chilling. "Maybe," he said, reaching out to brush a stray curl from your face. "But you look too good tonight to waste it on anyone else."

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his voice a quiet murmur. "Now, why don’t we make the best of this... situation?"

Billy’s smirk widened as he straightened up, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. You were trapped—and he knew it.

[ironspiderfics]

this is supposed to be a vacation

for @meilz

by @iron--spider

~

Tony loves this kid.

It’s a montage at the beginning of a movie—Tony was crazy about Peter almost immediately, couldn’t accept it, his own damn daddy issues courtesy of Howard Stark, then he had to accept it because the kid kept trying to die, then things settled, they worked together, then they unsettled and the kid dissolved in Tony’s hands, and a year of heavy-drinking and nearly exploding himself in the lab wound up with all the dissolved people undissolved and the kid back and Tony in a hospital bed. Three-week coma. Whole screaming celebration when he woke up loud enough to bust his eardrums and restart his heart.

But Peter was there. Peter was there. 

Time slowed to a crawl, sped up and slowed down again, and Tony tried to recover. He knew Peter and his friends went on that European trip—he encouraged it even though Peter was worried about leaving after everything. May and Happy chaperoned, and then everyone nearly died because Quentin fucking Beck decided to roll out of Tony’s past to try and kill off someone he loves. He failed, because Peter is Peter, and Fury and Happy shut down the false allegations Beck tried to put out there before he was arrested, and everybody came home.

It’s been about two months, since then. And Tony had just gotten back on his feet a week or so before Peter left, and he’s even steadier now. Getting steadier by the day. 

But he loves this kid. More now, than ever. The son he never had. He loves May, he loves the kids that come along with his kid, he loves everything Peter has to say and everything he doesn’t, he loves keeping an eye on his missions, he loves the way he fits so snug into Tony’s little family. 

And he loves him enough to know when he’s crashing. When his eyes are tired and his patrols aren’t as succinct and punchy as they usually are. When he needs a vacation from his recent vacation. As if nearly being killed by some asshole in London is the vacation any of them need. 

So, Tony makes a couple decisions. 

After all the shit they’ve gone through, what the hell could go wrong with a break?

~

Peter knew Tony was planning something, because he isn’t secretive when he’s excited, and he found out what he was planning when Tony asked if Ned and MJ’s families would mind if he took them out of the city for a few days.

And about a week later, they were heading upstate to Mohonk Mountain House.

And Peter hasn’t been complaining, at least not to Tony, but his tiredness has been bone-deep since he got back from London. Since before that, really. Coming back from the dead can do that to someone, and he doesn’t even like to call it dead, and apparently they were all tiny particle souls inside that infinity stone but it doesn’t matter because that’s a whole other can of worms and he gets more tired and more weary every time he even thinks about any of that. 

He swung right into a wall the other day. Slap right into it. He almost broke his nose again. He feels like that might have been the moment Tony decided on this vacation—Peter could tell by the look on his face when he told him that he’d crossed some kind of line. 

They walk inside the main lobby of Mohonk and Peter keeps hearing Ben’s voice in his head. You’re gonna catch flies, Pete. But he can’t stop gaping at everything. Like…he’s been in a Hilton and this is so much better than a Hilton. 

“This place looks straight out of a Hitchcock movie,” May says, and she knocks Tony on the arm.

Tony laughs, and Pepper turns around, raising her eyebrows at May. “Let’s just hope we don’t have any Hitchcock-type events happen while we’re here.”

“What would that mean?” Ned asks, catching up to the group and trying to whisper in Peter’s ear. “You’ve seen Hitchcock movies. I remember you watched that weird apartment one a hundred times.”

“I love that movie,” Peter says. Rear Window. He never wants his leg to be broken. He knows he’d go insane just like that.

“You haven’t seen Psycho?” MJ asks Ned, hoisting her backpack higher on her shoulder.

Ned hums a little bit. “No. I know about it though. No crazy Grandmas for me.”

“That’s not what happens.”

Leather couches and tall ceilings and intricate carpeting and columns and everything somehow looks really rich but really comfortable at the same time—

“No,” Tony says, turning around and pointing at them. “No, no, and no.” He points at May too. “No. No Rear Window, no Psycho, no Vertigo—maybe a little bit North by Northwest—no, you know what, no. Not that either. This is going to be the lamest movie you’ve ever—this isn’t even gonna be a movie, there’s no—there’s no plot, this is just—a family video. A home movie. That’s it.”

Family video feels warm, and Peter grins.

“Of course, Mr. Stark—”

“It’s gonna be fine—”

“Absolutely nothing—”

“Listen, I’m hitting that buffet—”

“I’m just gonna sleep,” Peter says, as they approach the huge front desk. “Just the entire time.”

Tony smiles softly at him, and he winks. “You deserve it,” he says, and Peter can tell that he means it. 

They hear crashing, something that sounds expensive hitting the ground somewhere behind them, and they all turn around and see a bunch of employees running around to try and take care of it. A whole big production and two guys trying to hold up a big bear statue that’s trying to fall over.

“Okay, step to,” Happy’s voice says, and Peter hears him before he sees him, and then he breezes by, striding out in front of them. “Let’s go, come on, follow me, let’s get this in the books—”

“Oh, there he is,” Tony says, patting him on the shoulders. “There he is.”

~

Peter and May could never afford a vacation like this. They could never even afford to imagine something like this. Peter feels like they would have charged him if he’d even looked at photos of this place. A big, historic, mountain resort in upstate New York, on the edge of a cliff overlooking a lake? 

But now they’re here. They’re here with Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. Peter was able to bring two friends. Happy drove them all in a big plush rental van. They’ve got a line of suites on the sixth floor and they had steak and lobster for dinner on their first night. 

It feels unreal. But things feel unreal a lot. Especially things involving Tony, involving Spider-Man. Any of it. Like he’s having a long, prolonged dream before Ben wakes him up for school.

Peter stands on one of the terrace balconies with Tony while the others are arranging activities for tomorrow, and he stares off at the lake and the way the moon hits it. Light rippling on the water. 

“You really think you’re gonna sleep the whole time?” Tony asks, leaning on the railing. “Because nobody would judge you for it. Kayaks can wait. Ballroom dancing can absolutely wait, as can all of May’s Dirty Dancing comparisons, because I can feel them building up, like an aura around her—”

Peter snorts. “No,” he says. “But I probably will mostly just…relax. Take it easy. Just sleeping, no alarms—”

“You deserve it, like I said,” Tony says. “It’s thrilling to me that you’re even giving yourself a break.”

“Look who’s talking,” Peter says, giving him a look. “You were trying to get down to the workshop when your arm was still holding on by one string of muscle.”

Tony’s entire face contorts. “That is a terrible, disgusting image, Mr. Parker—”

Peter snorts again, choking on his laughter. 

Tony knocks him on the arm. “You’re awful, a menace, making fun of an injured old man—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but it’s true,” Peter says, swatting him back, and still laughing. “You’re the one who needs—needs this. Like Happy always says, I’m a ‘spring chicken’, I—I can bounce back.”

“I had enough bedrest for the next ten years,” Tony says, and he’s giving Peter that look again. Concern. Like he’s trying to read his mind. “You—I know you like to act like it all doesn’t affect you, but you were going through hell on the daily before that purple asshole snapped his fingers. Then there was all that, and the right after that, and the coming back from that, and me wasting away in front of you—and then Quentin Beck flaunting his dickheaded tendencies on your school trip—that was supposed to be your relaxing time and it got away from you too and I just—like I said, you deserve your time. You need it. Don’t—you’re not selling yourself short if you say you need some rest. You put everybody first all the time, yourself last—you deserve to relax, that’s all.”

Peter blows out a breath. He doesn’t even really try to deny it in his head anymore. He doesn’t try to compare himself to other people who have it worse. He’s tired. He’s beat. He feels older than he is. 

Tony clicks his tongue and looks out at the lake. “I know this place is kind of old, kind of dated, rooms kind of look a little bit like grandma was head decorator, but—I, uh—I’ve got fond memories here. Mom used to bring me, when Howard was, uh…in some of his dicier moments. And sometimes we’d just relax, too. Recover from…knowing him.”

Peter is just kind of staring at him, because it always takes him off guard when Tony starts talking about Howard. They’re close enough now that he hears stories about his personal life all the time—his growing up, his insane college years with Rhodey, meeting Pepper meeting Happy and everything in between, but Howard is still…something they don’t really talk about, past flippant comments about Tony striving to be a better father figure than he ever was. 

“Then I’m glad you brought us here,” Peter says, his voice cracking a little bit. “I’m glad you brought me here.” And in his head he hears I’m glad you brought me back. Because he thinks about that all the time. 

Everyone’s back because of you, Peter. He never gave up on bringing you back. It was about saving you.

Tony looks like he’s about to say something else when there’s a bunch of rustling in the trees below them, and a loud thump, and more rustling. They both peer over the railing, and Peter can see the trees moving, but not anything else.

They share a wary look.

“Probably just a skunk,” Tony says.

“Oh, great.”

“Or maybe a band of feral cats.”

“Okay that’s better. Hopefully not too feral. Like, I hope they’re receptive to petting.”

They keep staring down at the trees, but it all seems quiet again.

~

Tony and Pepper have one room, Peter, MJ and Ned have the one in the middle, and May and Happy are on the end in a single room together even though Peter is refusing to acknowledge what that means or what might be going on in there. Tony mentioned that the rooms were dated, but they feel more like what a royal castle might look like inside, and for the longest time Peter is worried about wrinkling up the sheets. And then eventually it’s Ned’s snoring keeping him awake.

And then, when he’s finally mostly asleep—

“Peter.”

MJ’s voice. Peter’s in the bed with Ned and she got the other huge bed all to herself, but she sounds like she’s right next to him. He turns over onto his side, towards her voice, and then she’s—

On the ground right next to his face—

He startles a little bit, and she grabs his hand.

“MJ what—”

“There’s someone in the room.”

She’s whispering, and his heart speeds up a little bit. What the hell? There’s no way.

“Are you sure it’s not Happy?” Peter asks, as Ned lets out a rip of a snore. “Sometimes he likes to do perimeter checks—”

“It’s not Happy!” she whisper-yells.

Peter blinks, and she’s already pulling the sheets off him and yanking him out of bed, and he feels like he’d be more paranoid if something was actually happening, like he’d feel it pulsing and burning in his head, and she’s tugging on him and they’re stumbling over to the wall and—

“MJ—MJ—”

She flips on the light—

And Peter only sees him briefly—a man, standing over by the bathroom, and Peter barely gets to see what he looks like before the lights go out again. 

But he wasn’t Happy he wasn’t Tony he wasn’t supposed to be here, and Peter’s heart rockets into his throat and he hears MJ gasp and he hears feet moving and Ned is still snoring, and Peter rushes towards where the man was and tries to catch him tries to fight, but he only meets open air. 

MJ yanks the door open and she’s already running out into the hallway, yelling Tony’s name, yelling for Peter to follow her. And the hall light is streaming into their room now, and Peter looks around, breathing hard, trying to find the guy—

Nothing. Nothing.

Nobody’s here.

Ned is still snoring.

~

Tony stands next to Peter while the manager shows them the video footage. He watches their doors, completely still and closed from the hallway cameras, and then he watches MJ race out, and Tony and Happy run in a few minutes later. Followed by Pepper and May a few minutes after that. And then Ned finally looming out into the hallway, still half asleep.

“As you can see,” the manager says. “No one entered the room.”

Peter can feel Tony’s anger simmering beside him, and he takes it as a compliment that Tony is all-in on believing that they saw someone, even though he didn’t see him himself.

“Can I get the outside view again?” Tony asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Of course, Mr. Stark.”

They switch to the outside view again, which they’ve already seen about three times. The cameras aren’t great out there, and Happy found out they’re in the process of an upgrade. Peter can see their floor from a distance, he sees a little flash of light that they can’t identify, and then nothing else. No one scaling the building. Not in a way they can see, anyway.

“When will the upgrade be complete?” Tony asks, his tone clipped.

“After your stay, sir, unfortunately.”

Tony huffs, and doesn’t say anything else, and he turns and takes Peter’s arm and leads him to the door. They walk out into the hallway, where MJ and Ned quickly back up.

“Don’t need to listen through the wall,” Tony says.

“Uh, we weren’t,” MJ says. “We were just—”

“Looking at the wallpaper,” Ned says. “It’s—so cool.”

“Uh huh,” Tony says. He moves so they’re in a little circle, and he grips Peter’s shoulder. “Do you want to leave?” he asks, looking around at the three of them. “Because we can leave. We can go somewhere else, figure something else out. Or we can move rooms, we can go down to the Grove Lodge so we can all be closer together—we can do whatever we want.”

Ned’s eyes go wide. “I mean, I didn’t see anything, I was sleeping—”

“It’s fine,” MJ says, fast, glancing at Peter. “I feel like we—Peter and I must have been—I mean, we’re—everything that happened, we’re always thinking about it, and Mysterio was about like—making us think we were seeing things that weren’t there or were there but different—it’s fine. Joint hallucination. Or maybe I made him think he saw something because I was saying I saw something.”

That would normally be a Tony joke cue, but he just looks at her intently. “You don’t have to make excuses,” he says. “I don’t want you guys feeling…unsafe. Despite the presence of, uh—enhanced individuals. Unnamed.”

“It’s okay,” MJ says, and she looks at Peter and nods. 

Tony looks at him too. And Peter knows that if he said anything about being worried, Tony would move them in an instant.

What the hell did he see? 

Were they really just tired?

Did he think he saw something because MJ thought she saw something?

“It’s okay,” he says, slowly, because…he isn’t entirely sure. But MJ seems sure and Peter doesn’t want to blow up the trip if they were just in a PTSD-addled nightmare. It is their first real vacation since that shit with Beck happened, it still feels like a knife in his gut sometimes.

“You sure?” Tony asks, and he shakes Peter’s shoulder a little bit.

Peter looks at MJ, and she nods at him. 

“Yeah,” Peter says. “I’m sure.”

~

They go back to bed after that without any more incidents, but Peter mostly stays awake, staring off into the darkness. MJ is awake too, through a lot of the night, and they text because Ned is sleeping and snoring like there’s nothing wrong and there’s never been anything wrong, ever.

I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

I wouldn’t let anything happen to you either. Nerd :)

Over breakfast, Tony lets them know that Happy is setting up Friday to do sweeps and is doing his own personal perimeter checks.

“I want him to enjoy his break too though,” Peter says, pushing his waffle around on the plate.

“He’s enjoying it,” May says, through a mouthful of eggs.

Peter frowns at her. “I don’t like that. I don’t—I don’t need—”

She shrugs. “Well.”

“Okay, Miss Kiss and Tell,” Tony says, laughing as Pepper sits down next to him. “But it’s good. He’s on it, and I’m on it too.”

“Here,” MJ says, coming back from the buffet and sitting down next to Peter. She puts a cinnamon bun on his plate, smiling at him. “They just brought them out. Ned is trying to barter for more.”

“They can’t deny him,” Pepper says. “It’s all inclusive.”

“Exactly,” Tony says. “And after last night, we should be getting extra—I still think they sent someone in to check on something and didn’t want to admit it. I’m not gonna go all I’d like to speak to the manager on them, even though I did—do that—but either way—”

Peter hasn’t landed anywhere on it yet. He keeps trying to think back on it, trying to remember exactly what he saw. His spider sense, newly minted, is usually pretty bang on if something isn’t right, if he feels like he’s in danger, but he’d just woken up, he’s foggy in the mornings sometimes—

He figures his mind was just playing tricks on him. But MJ too?

She rubs his leg, like she knows he's agonizing over it, and he reaches down and holds her hand.

“Okay,” Ned says, walking back over holding a plate. “They let me take five of them. They’re all really warm and gooey, I feel like this is a promising start to the day.”

~

Peter isn’t exactly a spa guy, so he doesn’t join May and Pepper when they decide to go there, even though he feels like it might help him if he ever figured out how to relax. But going there is supposed to help him relax, so how can he ever relax enough to get to the point of going there—either way, he goes out onto the lake with Tony and Ned and MJ.

MJ and Peter both get their own kayaks, and Ned and Tony are in a canoe.

“He wouldn’t get into one of these,” Tony yells. “Honestly, if Happy’s not still doing security shit, he’s probably golfing. He’s terrible at it and he never likes to do it when anybody he knows is around. I’ll message him in a little bit and make sure but that’s probably where he is. Ned. You have to keep that thing on just in case we turn over.”

Peter snorts, looking back at them, and he sees Tony adjusting Ned’s lifejacket on his shoulders.

“Happy’s just afraid of racing,” Peter yells, cutting his oar through the water. “MJ remember when—”

“Yes,” she says, a little out ahead of him, and she’s already laughing. “I don’t even know why he was trying to chase you in New York traffic. While you were swinging in the air above him. You didn’t have any cars in your way, nothing was stopping you—”

Peter snorts again, bending over and laughing a little bit. “He was so mad. He didn’t talk to me for a week. He made me talk to Friday specifically.”

“I gave him shit for that!” Tony yells. “He shouldn’t have been trying to chase you. The gas leak had nothing to do with you. He’s always tossing blame around willy nilly.”

“Yeah he still blames me for the time those columns collapsed on that old garbage building,” Ned says. “A line of code can’t do that, that building was old I didn’t do anything there was no way he should have yelled at me at all let alone for twenty minutes—”

“He’s just dramatic,” Tony says.

“He just gets worried,” Peter says, glancing over his shoulder at their boat. And Ned makes big eyes at him, because yeah, uh, they’ve seen why he gets worried. They’ve dealt with why he gets worried. And now, after last night, Peter feels like he’s making himself worried. He needs to stop, they’ve already moved past it, they’re still here, it’s all fine.

“Yeah, I imbued him with a worrying virus that will never be cured,” Tony says. “And now the next generation has to deal with it. Here we are.”

Peter shakes his head, smiling. He’s gotta relax. The sun is shining on the lake bright and beautiful, and May is actually getting a massage for the first time in years and everything is fine. It’s fine. 

He hears Tony chastising Ned again about his life jacket, gently, and Peter starts rowing out and around the outside of the lake. They’re the only ones out here right now, and he wonders how long that’s gonna last. He wonders if that’s something the resort set up, because it’s Tony, because of what happened last night, because Happy’s been intimidating people, and Peter simultaneously appreciates it and balks against the special treatment. But he’s with Tony, he should know it’s gonna happen.

He feels like he’s going a little faster than he should be going based on the way he’s rowing, like he’s really moving along. He glances over at MJ and she’s even further away from him, moving in the direction of the hotel.

“We’re not racing yet!” he yells, and he feels like Happy—constantly worried. But he’s worried about her in a different way and actually starting things with her in Europe made the whole thing worth it in a way, and now they’re together and it’s amazing but he’s just so worried all the time.

And now he’s stopped rowing all together, and he should be slowing down, but he’s still moving. Moving….fast. Maybe even getting faster.

Should that be happening? He doesn’t really kayak. He shifts around a little bit and looks down, and feels a little bit tucked in here. 

“Hey!” Tony yells. “You’re moving like you have a motor on you!”

Peter’s brows furrow, because he is, and he’s not rowing, and he should have lost any propulsion at this point, and he looks up and he sees MJ looking back at him, and she’s not moving anymore, and he glances back and both Tony and Ned look concerned—

And he gets the worst feeling in his chest, like an alarm, like his spidey sense but more warped and panicked, and he tries to get up without toppling over, because the kayak is still moving for no reason, speeding along and it’s going faster and faster. He drops his oar, and balances precariously for a few seconds before he leaps into the water.

Bubbles all around him, and muffled calls of his name—

And he’s only submerged for a couple seconds, because of the life jacket pulling him back to the surface, and he comes up just in time to watch the empty kayak lift up into the air, careening into the forest and disappearing into the trees. 

And he floats there, treading water, staring.

“What the fuck?” Ned yells. “Peter? Peter?”

“Peter!” MJ yells.

“Pete, we’re coming!” Tony yells. “Hold on!”

But Peter is just sort of. Staring. Staring off, at where the kayak disappeared. He stares over there. He stares. 

No thoughts, just. Insane.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Peter asks, his voice squeaking. “Is that—MJ you should probably—you shouldn’t be in there if you’re not, uh, prepared to go—flying—did anybody see it explode? Did it explode? Or did it just shatter, uh, well, wooden—wooden kayak, was it wooden? Or plastic? Either way I bet it’s not a full kayak anymore—”

He feels himself being lifted out of the water, and it’s Tony pulling him into the boat. He doesn’t know how they got here so fast but to be honest a kayak just went full fighter jet on him so he can’t be that confused. 

His shock has him gripped and he just sort of lays there like a rag doll as Tony and Ned pull him up, and he sees MJ rowing over to them. Thankfully, she’s still in her kayak, and it’s not—flying through the air.

“Hey, hey,” Tony says, once Peter isn’t in the water anymore. He’s got both arms around him, and Peter is laying against his chest, and Tony is patting his cheek and trying to peer around and meet his eyes. Ned has his hands on Peter’s knees and he’s just staring at him. 

“I just got a defective one,” Peter says, pointing over at the forest. “It’s okay. It was just—a flying one, we didn’t make sure we didn’t get a flying one. I hope MJ doesn’t have a flying one and it’s just not like. On a time delay I don’t know. MJ, just—hurry over here—” He waves her over. He wants her to hurry up. 

“Peter,” Tony says, and he pats Peter’s chest. “Are you alright? Did you twist anything when you jumped out, can you breathe—”

“Are kayaks supposed to do that?” Peter asks, feeling like he can hear his own voice echoing everywhere. “I didn’t think that was, uh, the case—”

“It’s not the case,” Ned says. “No. It’s not. It’s not the case.”

“Peter.”

MJ finally rolls up alongside them—

“I think you should get out of there,” Peter says, pointing at her. “It’s unsafe—”

“Something is going on,” MJ says, and she’s not looking at Peter. She’s looking at Tony.

~

Tony loves this kid, and this is supposed to be a fucking vacation. Tony loves this kid, and he believed him when he thought someone was in his room, even if the hotel was trying to sway them away from the idea. Tony loves this kid, and he just had to watch him abandon his kayak because said kayak was lifting off and destroying itself somewhere on the property. And kayaks don’t just fucking do that.

Tony stands close to Happy, well into his personal space. He’s got his hands on his hips, like a stern stance is gonna bring him any closer to an answer, and Happy sighs.

“I’ve done ten sweeps,” he says. “There’s nothing going on. There’s nobody here that isn’t supposed to be here. We even looked at the remains of the goddamn kayak and I didn’t find anything wrong with it.”

“There was something wrong with it,” Tony says. “It was flying. It was flying, speed wise, without Pete even rowing, and then it was flying, literally, after he had to abandon ship.”

“I know. It was in a million pieces.”

Tony sighs. They moved down to the Grove Lodge after it happened. Nobody told Pepper and May why, because Peter was insisting on not telling May, and he was also insisting on not leaving even though Tony wanted to leave, because if they left then they were leaving danger behind for the poor unassuming Mohonk guests. And if they leave, danger will probably follow them anyway, and Tony doesn’t know what move to make. 

He’s upset, because this was supposed to be a relaxing break for all of them, but especially for Peter, after everything he’s goddamn gone through. He’s upset because this place felt like his place, his haven, a place where he could get away and be secluded and safe, and now something is pursuing them here. Something is trying to hurt them.

“You haven’t found anything?” Tony presses. “Nothing?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Happy says, and he glances back at the front door of the lodge again. “I’m still looking, I’m not giving up, and I think we should be better located down here because we rented out the whole house and I told them not to come in for room service or cleaning or anything. I know we lose the nice high-up view—”

“It’s fine,” Tony says, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s afraid to even be discussing this in public. Anybody could be anywhere listening.

He doesn’t like feeling like he can’t protect these kids. 

“It looks like they’re targeting Peter,” Tony says, as quietly as he can. “And I can’t tell if that’s because of me, that they think—I mean the whole goddamn world thinks he’s my love child at this point, thinks May is my secret mistress or the sister of his secret mother, God knows, I don’t know what the most recent story is. But I can’t tell if they’re targeting him because of me or because of the other thing—”

“And the other thing is worse—the spider thing—”

“I didn’t specify on purpose, Hap,” Tony says, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Right, right—the innocuous other thing—”

“We’re lucky we got out of Europe with the other thing intact—”

“Yeah,” Happy says, shaking his head, and Tony wishes he had been there with him, had been there period. He would have torn Beck in half had he laid eyes on him. 

Why do they always target people he loves? Why not him? Blow him up. Kidnap him. But he guesses he’s been there already. He guesses they’ve done all that and it’s old hat to these assholes to go to him directly.

But this could be about Spider-Man too. There could be people that know who he is. People always find out, no matter how hard Tony tries, and Peter has made plenty of his own enemies. His own gallery of rogues looking to take him down.

“Just don’t tell May, if she asks,” Tony says.

“Oh, and don’t tell Pepper either?” Happy asks, in that stupid voice he uses to make fun of Tony. Tony glares, and Happy glares back. “They know by now something’s going on. They’re not dumb. They’re just not saying anything. But May will beat someone to death with anything she can get her hands on and so will Pepper, so maybe we should be sticking close to them.”

Tony sighs. “I just wanted—”

“I know—”

“And now—”

“I know,” Happy says. “We’re on it. We know it’s real, now, even if these people won’t cop to anything. I’m in their walls. Literally. Maybe I’m doing some things I shouldn’t be.”

Tony steps up onto the porch. “Don’t even tell me.”

“I won’t. But maybe I am.”

~

“Ned, why are you in here while I’m in the bathtub?”

“She’s in here!”

“I’m dating her.”

“Wow, that’s great,” Ned says, not making any move to get up from his spot on the gold lounge chair. “That’s great, I see how things are going. I see what direction we’re heading in.”

Peter scoffs. He warmed up a long time ago, and he’s getting really pruny, but he doesn’t want to get out just yet. He feels like something is gonna happen if he gets out. Like it’s all gonna start up again and maybe the house is gonna explode or their fridge is gonna grow arms and start trying to fight them or something. 

And he isn’t lazy. He’s always ready to fight.

Maybe he’s a little lazy. But not usually. He thought Europe was gonna be a Spider-Man free trip and look how that turned out. And he thought this was going to be calm and relaxing but now it’s become suspicious. And worrying. And he’s torn between leaving and staying and telling May and not telling May and he doesn’t know if she’s in danger too and sometimes he feels like everybody would be safer if he lived out in Alaska somewhere and nobody knew him.

Peter sighs, and MJ rubs his shoulder. Ned is still giving him that look and Peter ignores that look. He’s never been in a little claw-foot tub like this before. Tony doesn’t even have these in the compound. And a bubble bath? He hasn’t had a bubble bath since he was a kid and Ben was still alive. It almost distracts him from… whatever the hell is going on here.

“We’ve got two more days,” MJ says. “And we’re sticking it out.”

“We’re sticking it out,” Peter says. “I got my webshooters, I guess I’ll wear them if we go hiking tomorrow.”

“Someone is gonna push you off a cliff,” Ned says, raising his eyebrows. 

“We’re all going together, so nobody is gonna push anybody,” MJ says. She leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of Peter’s mouth. “Okay let’s leave so he can—get out.”

They both get up, and Peter watches as they argue.

“Oh, you’re not gonna help him?” Ned asks.

“Oh, you’re not?” MJ replies, nudging him as they move towards the door. “I thought that was your job, guy in the chair—”

~

They have dinner in the main building, and Peter watches his back. He only jumps once, when someone drops a tray full of plates, and he winces at the shattering and runs over there to help clean it up before they usher him away. They visit the horses in the stables, and Peter checks every nook and cranny to make sure somebody isn’t hiding in there. They watch May and Happy bust into the late jazz class that’s going on in the ballroom and Peter forgets to do anything because he feels like his face is going to catch on fire from all the blushing.

And he remembers to be paranoid when they get back to the Grove Lodge, and he can tell May is suspicious and they’re all watching him like hawks and he gets worried that Tony is the real target of whatever is happening here and he’s just a distraction. 

He can’t let anything happen to Tony. He can’t let anything happen to any of them.

Or maybe nothing is happening. And nobody was in their room. And the kayak was just—Parker luck. Too much strength, or something. 

He wakes up around three in the morning because he can’t stay asleep, and he sits down in the ‘great room’ and stares out into the darkness of the night. 

“Don’t jump,” Tony’s voice says, but Peter jumps anyway, twisting around and seeing him on the stairs. “You jumped! I said don’t jump! You heard me, I said it—”

Peter snorts, shaking his head. “You can’t just tell me not to jump and expect me not to jump—especially if you’re stepping out of the shadows—”

“There’s no shadows,” Tony says, stepping off the landing. “No shadows. I’m fully illuminated—”

Peter sighs. “You can’t sleep either?”

“Nah,” Tony says, walking over quietly. “Sleep and I, we have a very contemptuous relationship.” He shakes his head. “I just feel like shit because you can’t have a normal vacation. Whatever the hell is or isn’t going on here. You just deserve—Jesus, a full day, at the least, without something happening you have to question.” He sits down next to Peter and lets out a sigh.

“It’s not your fault. At all.”

“I mean—it might be. We’ve seen Europe as an example of very much my fault.”

Peter narrows his eyes at him. “That wasn’t your fault either. You know it wasn’t your fault, idiots blaming you for their own stupidity is not your fault—”

A huge crash outside. It sounds like one of those big weird planters falling over and knocking into the other planters and then it sounds like a bunch of feet shuffling and this isn’t Parker luck, this isn’t a hallucination, this isn’t a kayak doing non-kayak like things—

They both leap out of their chairs. The noises don’t stop and Tony is immediately stepping in front of Peter and holding his arm out, as if to shield him.

“Kid, go back upstairs—”

“No,” Peter whisper-shouts, grabbing his arm as the two of them move forward very, very slowly towards the back porch doors. “You almost died recently—you’re wearing pajamas and a house coat—”

“You don’t even know what a house coat is—”

Another crash, more skittering feet, and Peter focuses—he can hear separate heartbeats from the hearts he loves in this house. Two of them.

“Tony I’ve got my webshooters on—”

“That doesn’t matter you’re wearing pajamas too you’re not prepared—”

And when they’re just close enough to open the door, there’s a flash of bright white light. And Peter closes his eyes against it, and he can feel Tony turning around, trying to block him from it, and it must be more than just light because he hears a loud bang and the windows are shattering and it feels like a cataclysmic boom is pushing them through the air. The two of them fly backwards, and hit the far wall, and the last thing Peter hears before his head snaps back too far is 

GOD DAMMIT ALFIE YOU’RE TWO SECONDS TOO EARLY WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS JUMPING THE—

~

Peter gasps awake. His gasp echoes, and he sits up, and looks around, and he’s…nowhere.

He scrambles to his feet. He’s alone, and he’s nowhere, there’s nothing but blackness and his ears are popping like he’s high up and he sees—

He sees—

A kayak? Flying through the darkness? 

He watches it, cascading like a majestic bird, and he stares at it, and then it just—blinks out of existence. Like it was never even there.

Maybe he’s just dreaming. Maybe he never even woke up and went downstairs and talked to Tony. Maybe none of that happened at all. Maybe he’s still asleep and Ned is snoring somewhere and MJ is saying not beets in the salad in her sleep again and maybe—

God dammit, Alfie, I swear. I swear I’m gonna whack you in the head.

Peter spins around, in the complete darkness. He can see himself, his own body and his hands and his pajamas and his webshooters, like he’s got a spotlight on him. “Hello?” he calls. “What the hell is—whoever that is—”

And then the London Bridge appears huge and massive above his head and he starts to duck, nearly collapsing in on himself, and there’s no way this is actually happening this isn’t real and he shoots a web at it and it goes right through it and it hits—somewhere—somewhere in the darkness, it sticks, it—

ALFIE I THINK THEY’RE BOTH—

I KNOW IT I CAN TELL OKAY I’M NOT MORONIC—

It clicks in Peter’s head. This is someone using Beck’s tech. It’s someone using Beck’s tech. That’s what this is. This is some idiots using his tech and not knowing how to use it properly and—

Peter starts yelling. “Whoever you are, you’re—you’re not good at this—this isn’t gonna work out for you—”

The bridge disappears, and Peter starts running. His spidey sense is going berserk, and he can’t tell where the danger is, what direction, how far. He can’t tell what’s underneath his feet, it feels—crunchy, and a little old, maybe? All he knows is he needs to get the hell out of this illusion. It feels unstable.

He starts shooting his webs everywhere, and most of them fly away without hitting anything, and that makes him wonder where the hell he could be with so much space—

STARK IS DOING SOMETHING WITH HIS AI—

Peter’s heart lurches.

“Tony!” Peter yells, still running, and he holds his hands out and tries to find something, anything, and he shoots webs fucking everywhere, and then—

SHIT—

He runs right into someone. And they push him off, and then he gets a brass-knuckled fist to the face before he can get a hit off of his own. He stumbles backwards through the sharp pain, wrestling with the instinct to just fight even though it’s only darkness all around him and he can’t see who the hell he’s fighting with. 

Instead, he spits out a line of blood and keeps running.

Pulsing, face pulsing, beating with ripped skin and metal—

A massive kayak blips into the air briefly, and then it disappears.

Peter narrows his eyes, shaking his head, and what the hell is with the kayak—

He runs smack into something, like a train going accordion against a wall, and he stumbles backwards again, clutching at his crushed nose and trying to stay on his feet. The punch and the goddamn running into whatever that was has him dizzy, has him mangled and seeing stars in this manufactured darkness and then he hears Tony hollering his name at the top of his lungs—

“Peter! Peter!”

He sounds like he’s behind him—

“Tony!” Peter yells, all nasally. “Tony! Hey I’m over here—”

He turns around, changing his trajectory. And the darkness blips, breaking in large pixels, and Peter keeps running towards Tony’s voice and the darkness blips again, turns bright white, and then—

The illusion, or lack of one, breaks all at once, and Peter can see—

He’s on the roof of the main Mohonk building—he can see the lake, and the forest, and the mountains, settled in the calm of the night that feels decidedly not calm for him in particular, and he skids to a halt because he’s nearly running off the roof—

And he feels someone grab his arm and tug him back, and he spins around and it’s Tony, thank God it’s Tony—

“Hey!” Tony yells, and Peter looks at him and grabs his arm and they both look up and—

There are just two guys standing there. Two guys, both on the shorter side, definitely unkempt, and they’re holding a little gray box and they’re both just hitting it and hitting it and hitting it—

Peter aims his webs and just starts shooting. He feels like he shoots the most amount of webs he’s ever shot. The two guys fly backwards and get stuck to one of the upraised red parts of the roof, and they’re both gritting their teeth and trying to get out like they’re Scooby Doo villains.

“They must be associated with Beck,” Peter says, trying to catch his breath. His entire mouth tastes like blood. “They’ve gotta be.”

“I figured, with their shitty illusion attempts,” Tony says, and he sounds angrier than Peter’s ever heard him. He glances at Peter, starts to glance away, but then he looks at him again, fast, his brows furrowing severely. “Jesus Christ, you’re—bleeding everywhere—”

“Yeah, it feels—it doesn’t feel good—they didn’t hit you?” Peter asks.

Tony takes Peter’s chin gently, tilting his head and wincing. “No,” he says. “They didn’t goddamn hit me—”

“Well, the nose was from—running into something—I think that, uh, I think that’s a chimney over there, I think I ran into it—you didn’t run into anything—”

“No, I didn’t—”

“Oh, that’s great—”

Tony looks like he’s about to breathe fire, and he lets go of Peter and starts stomping towards the webbed bad guys.

“Why the hell would you be loyal to a moron like him?” Tony asks. “Beck? He couldn’t even keep a job at Stark Industries—”

“Yeah, buddy, because you stole his idea,” one of them hollers. They’re both still wiggling around, trying to get out.

Tony sneers. “He worked for my company executing an idea I designed and commissioned and decided to weaponize it when it was created to help deal with trauma and mental health—have you never had a job, an occupation—you know what, I don’t care, I don’t care—”

“Well he didn’t say that, he didn’t say any of that exactly,” the other guy says, the one with the longer hair. “He just said—”

“Nothing he says is true,” Peter yells, wincing when he touches his nose. “That guy is a liar, and a freak, and you believed him enough to follow us on vacation and—screw up every attempt you made to kill us—it was one of you guys in my room—”

“No, that was just testin’, that was just—we was just testin’, it was—you guys acted really dramatic—”

Peter scoffs. “Dramatic?”

And the two guys start giving each other nasty looks, even though they’re webbed shoulder to shoulder. “Maybe if you hadn’t dropped that dart gun in the lobby when they first got here—”

“Maybe if you hadn’t fallen out of the tree—”

“Maybe if you had made the goddamn kayak explode instead of fly—”

“Stop!” Tony yells, cutting his hands through the air like an angry teacher. “Stop. Stop. I’ve never wanted to hear Boston accents less. Stop. You’re arrested. We’ve arrested you.”

“You can’t do that, the Avengers aren’t cops,” the shorter one says. He’s got a tattoo on his neck that says GOLDBARES with a Haribo bear icon and Peter squints at it and he feels like his entire face hurts worse just from seeing it.

“You’ve committed several crimes,” Tony says, still pointing at them. “It’s—my personal security already—”

There’s a click. A very loud click. And both guys clam up real quick.

“What was that?” Tony asks.

Peter’s spidey sense is—ratcheting up, clear into his teeth—

“Tony!” he yells, because it feels like something is coming, and, just like in the Grove Lodge, there’s a big boom and they’re blown backwards by a seismic wave—

And they’re launched off the roof, and it feels like they’re moving in slow motion, through the dead dark of the night and the reflection of the lake, and Peter screams like a moron. He just screams, and then he shoots a web right at Tony and pulls him in with it, and then he shoots a web at the building and swings back around with him. 

They don’t land well, because Peter’s brain is on the backburner and there’s nothing on the front, and they roll in a heap, Peter tucking his face into Tony’s shoulder. When they come to a halt Tony pulls back, sitting up and touching Peter’s cheek.

“You in there?”

“I’m in there. Here,” Peter says, and he feels like he’s bleeding worse, somehow. “Did they blow up? Did those guys blow up? It sounded like they blew up.”

“We didn’t blew up we’re still over here but maybe I wish we woulda blew up because—”

And they start shouting at each other, but Peter tries to tune them out.

“Thank God you brought those things,” Tony says, tapping Peter’s wrist. “Thanks, bud.”

Peter blows out a breath, shaking his head and still just. Laying there. “Oh yeah, no problem. All good, just—completely normal.”

Tony sighs, and his eyes cut to the side. “Any other late traps ready to explode?” he yells, over his shoulder.

They stop arguing with each other. There’s a brief silence. 

“Uh. I honestly got no idea. We just brought the whole bag of tricks, I don’t know. There’s shit everywhere.”

Tony looks at Peter, slowly shaking his head.

“Fantastic,” Peter says. “Wonderful.”

~

“So, you weren’t in there watching us when we were getting our nails done in the spa?” Pepper asks. “I thought it was weird. I told May it was weird. That was these guys—”

Tony scoffs, and he feels like he instantly gets a headache, a migraine—

“Of course I wasn’t—of course—you thought I was just standing there? Staring at you in the spa? You didn’t think that was out of the ordinary—”

Pepper gives him a look, and Peter laughs from the hammock behind them.

“Yeah, when I went to get my nails done later you kept walking in and out,” Happy says. “But I thought you were just—I don’t know what I thought. But then you told me about the kayak thing later and I thought—well—I attributed it to that.”

“Happy went and got his nails done,” Ned whispers, somewhere behind Tony, too. “We could do that?”

“Who’s stopping you?” MJ says, quiet.

“Well, the whole—the whole situation stopped me, I guess, but I didn’t really think about it—”

“I’m glad it wasn’t you staring at us,” May says, standing near the railing and peering out into her binoculars. “Pepper said it was normal, but it was concerning me.”

Tony glares at Pepper, but she just bats her eyes at him like the picture of innocence.

“Sometimes Peter does that to me,” May says. “Just stares at me from behind a Lucky Charms box in the kitchen. That’s how I know something’s wrong.”

Tony snorts, and he turns around as soon as Peter starts protesting.

“I do not!” Peter says, shifting around in the hammock. “I do not do that.”

“It sounds like something you’d do,” Ned says.

“You’ve done that to me,” MJ says, clearing her throat.

Peter huffs, and everyone laughs at him, and Tony tries not to laugh too hard, because this started with his own wife acting like she thinks he’s capable of acting like some weirdo who stands around staring at people.

Tony sighs. He turns around, walking over and peering down at Peter. He braces his hand on the tree his hammock is attached to. “How’s the nose?” Tony asks.

“Broken.”

“It’s not broken anymore, we reset it.”

“It knows it was broken. I know too.”

He’s still got the butterfly bandages on the bridge of his nose, and it’s bruised and angry looking. He’s got a burst blood vessel in his eye, and the white part is dipped with red. Tony feels like shit because he got out of the whole ordeal relatively unscathed. Just a few bumps and bruises. Some whiplash. But Peter broke his nose again.

They hiked up to the Sky Top Tower, and the kids wanted to hang out once they got up here. They all thought Peter had earned the hammock. Happy refused to come, and he’s in charge of the security situation, anyway, so he couldn’t exactly abandon it to do a hike he didn’t want to do. 

They had to clear the whole damn resort out to get rid of any remaining traps and illusions. Tony had to bring in a whole team. Rhodey made fun of him on the phone when Tony told him, laughing for a good five minutes.

And sure, it’s stupid. Those guys are stupid and they had no idea what the hell they were doing, they couldn’t even attack properly. But that’s what happens when stupid people follow more powerful stupid people. They hold grudges. They make up shit in their heads. They cause problems.

And it’s never really funny when Peter is bloody at the end of it.

“I feel like I’m sinking,” Peter says, his brows furrowing.

He reaches out his hand, and Tony takes it, and he pulls him out of the hammock as MJ and Ned push on his shoulders. Peter groans like he’s a hundred years old, and Tony claps him on the shoulder.

May looks away from her binoculars. “How you doing, honeybunch?”

“Fine,” Peter says, letting go of Tony’s hand. “Incredible. Amazing.”

“Just a normal day for a hero,” Pepper says. “MJ, you’ll get used to it, May, you’ll never get used to it—”

“And Ned,” Ned says to himself. “You will be there every step of the way.”

Tony looks at Peter, and he wants to apologize. For all of it, for being a hero at all, for the goddamn radioactive spider at Oscorp and everything that came after. For stupid morons like Quentin Beck, who know the quickest way to hurt Tony is to attack this kid he’s nearly adopted as his own.

He doesn’t know what the hell to say, because Peter wouldn’t accept his apologies anyway. He never would. Peter is just appreciative of every moment. Even if the moments aren’t ideal.

“We’ve got the whole place to ourselves,” Tony says. “How about we have a pie bar when we head back down there? I can tip the kitchen staff two hundred percent when I ask. I don’t think anybody would be pissed off.”

He sees May smiling softly at him over Peter’s shoulder. Trust in her eyes, even after all this bullshit.

“Can there be…at least four key limes?” Peter asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Four or five,” Tony says, ruffling his hair. “Or six or seven. Depending on the number of ovens in the joint.”

Peter grins at him, still bright and lively, despite everything.

Maybe they can salvage this vacation yet.

[kaija-rayne-author]

10.1 in review series for Dragon Age Veilguard

70 hours in, 68 actual gameplay

Obligatory I'm not an asshole disclaimer, feel free to skip to the cut.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I'm on media blackout while I play this, so I'm only getting second-hand info on how awful it is right now in the DA Fandom. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Spoilers for Dragon Age Veilguard

Section 9 is here.

I haven't played yet today. I have to take my immunocompromised ass into a world that doesn't give a shit about my life to get groceries. How do I know they don't care? They don't mask. It's as simple as that. If you care about immunocompromised people, people like me recovering from almost dying, pregnant people, old people, many children, people with immune affecting issues like long covid, depression, anxiety, fibromyalgia... goddess, the list goes on, if you cared? You'd mask. It's the number one way to help us survive. And no, us masking by ourselves doesn't work very well. Everyone has to.

Anyway. Yeah. Gotta risk my life for groceries because I can't afford delivery.

I was just sitting here, and I think I figured out some of the many issues that are bothering me about this game. The great big missing I've been trying to figure out.

They didn't make Veilguard for the adult gamers who have desperately wanted it for so long. They made it for children and teens.

Epler even outright said they'd changed things hoping to draw in a younger section of gamers. (In one of the first q&a sessions after the gameplay reveals.) I wonder if he bothered to do any market studies to see if that demographic would actually be interested?

I can only judge by my two gaming kids because I'm on media blackout while I finish this game. But no matter how much they simplified it for kids, they still have absolutely no interest in Dragon age. They're far more interested in indie games than anything a triple A studio puts out. Their opinions on Triple A studios are so low it's honestly ridiculous. They don't even understand why I love games put out by them.

So, the devs chose to remove things so that parents would be more likely to let their kid play what is still listed as a M level game (ESRB M for mature).

Ooooh, no. We can't have rogues picking locks and doing all the stuff rogues are supposed to be able to do. Why? Because that means kids will be delinquents doing the same! (The trust in the ability of older kids to understand the difference between a fantasy video game and real life is astounding, I tell you. /s) This is such a boomer thought process I'm shocked to see it, to be completely honest.)

Everyone is just so... nice. Not kind, that's different. But that sugary, false nice. None of the romanceables have anything tooooo controversial about them.

Blackwall Inquisition was a child murderer and lying about being a Grey Warden. Dorian was a spoiled, enslaving Tevinter rich boy (he did actually have a growth arc in Inquisition). Sera was a thief and a Red Jenny (people who worked against the entitled, rich nobility as needed to protect people without power). Varric (even though you can't romance him) was a thief, liar, cheater, and someone you wanted at your back in a fight because he fights dirty. Cassandra was bigoted, hide bound, and intolerant of any faiths other than Andrastianism. The Iron Bull was a failed Ben-Hassrath double agent. The ben-hassrath are a combination of spies, saboteurs, and assassins, among other things. Whatever was needed to defend the Qun. Cullen was a drug addict and such a horrible person in the previous two games it actually made me physically ill to try to romance him. Solas was, well, Solas. Who we all know had a lot of bad in his background. They've certainly hammered that point home in Veilguard. With a jackhammer. The only romance option in Inquisition that wasn’t dirty was Josey. And if you do Romance her, you find some dirt on her too.

I could say the same for almost every Dragon Age Romanceable in the entire damned series. They've mostly been not the greatest of people and when the writers were doing their jobs right, there were growth arcs for them that made them better people during the game. That's part of the fun of games with Romanceable characters. Picking out which broken bird fits your type of broken to romance. (And we're mostly all broken in some way.)

But all the romance options in Veilguard are... well, boring. They're nice, safe, decent people. And since most people have some darkness in them, it's probably not working for others as epically as it's not working for me.

If they're already nice, safe, decent people (even the fucking assassin!) then there's no room for growth. No room to learn that character and feel like your presence in their lives might give them a light to help them strive to be better people. They've truncated any potential for growth arcs for all of them. I'm a Romance author. When you're designing characters for Romance, they have to have a balance of flaws to good points. Otherwise they're just poorly designed characters with little potential to get hearts throbbing and knickers in a twist.

No wonder the romanceables aren't working for me. None of them have flaws big enough to make them well-rounded characters.

Moving on.

Have you noticed there's no blood splatter? You'll get a slowly creeping puddle around enemies, but somehow it never gets on the characters. I'll check if I have the energy to play after risking my life to get food. But I don't recall seeing a toggle for blood splatter in Veilguard. Like it or hate it, the blood splatter is very much a thing in games like these. They usually have an option to turn it off, but it's usually there. Especially in Dragon Age, blood splatter was a thing. A big thing. Hells, their logo was a blood splatter dragon for at least two games FFS. Edit. Confirmed there is no option anywhere I can find that lets us have blood splatter.

And honestly, having my characters coming out of hard fights looking like they've been through a meat grinder is part of the reason I enjoy games like these.

The choices for dialogue are also usually pretty 'nice'. The 'sarcastic' option usually isn't. The angry/strong one isn't either. It's all just... boring. And I'm into Act three now, so I'm thinking my hope of 'maybe the dialogue will get better' is probably an impossibility at this point.

The simplified plot points, the puerile storylines, the lack of dirt on the romanceables, the lack of growth arcs, the completely ridiculous cutting of 90% of the dark horror elements that made these games so good... we've lost all of that because they made this game for kids. And I highly doubt kids will be interested. So they've fucked over, and at least in my case, utterly pissed off the older gamers who have loved Dragon Age for so long, and very likely failed to attract younger gamers, too.

The problem with trying that, which I really think should've been obvious to somebody. Is that Dragon Age has never been a game designed for kids. It's always been bloody, often harsh, horrific, dark fantasy made for adults.

Games for younger people need to be designed for younger people from the first moment of creation. Or it just doesn't work. You technically can transfer some concepts from adult games into things for kids, but the result is invariably something as awful as Veilguard. And something bound to satisfy few people. The condescension toward younger folks in Veilguard is pretty bloody obvious. Something I've noticed kids hate? Being condescended to.

Congratulations on learning the lesson of knowing who your fucking market is.

It's crucial in any kind of content creation to know who you're making the thing for, and to not deviate from those genre expectations toooo much. Otherwise, you just have a mess of a disaster like Veilguard. They shot for two wildly dissimilar markets and failed both. Even the cartoony look of the art style is much more like a game for kids than anything like a dark fantasy game for adults.

And like... it's still listed as a mature rated game. So what, exactly, was the point of ruining Dragon Age like this? Many parents won't let their kids play M rated games regardless.

It's just so depressing. If they'd actually made this game for the people who had been praying for it for so long? It probably would have been phenomenal. As it stands, I'll be shocked if it doesn't sink Bioware. And if it doesn't, I'd think it because of bribery more than game quality.

I do have to say that you can decorate more than I thought. But you have to buy almost everything. And they're themes, so there's no intermixing possible. Like you could have Elven windows with Alamarri rugs and a Ferelden throne in Skyhold? All gifts from either people or cultures you'd helped, which tied it all together and connected it to the world... you can just change themes for the Lighthouse. It changes everything, and again, you have to buy almost everything. That really removes a lot of depth from the game.

People call all the collectibles and gifts etc. from the previous games 'filler'. But, frankly, that's a very uneducated opinion of what that 'filler' is supposed to do in fiction. The 'filler' (which is an actual technical term in writing fiction, and those things aren't filler) collectibles and quests gave depth to the games. It tied the world of THEDAS into the world of the player character. It's called world building in writing circles. And what confuses me is that I don't recall anyone having to do any of that. If all you wanted out of the previous games (especially Inquisition) was a fighting game, you could do that. None of the world building collection parts locked you out of any quests that I can recall. If you did enjoy deeper world building and collecting things, you could collect to your heart's content. There's none of that delicately intertwined, beautiful worldbuilding in Veilguard. It's stripped down to the very bare bones of mediocrity.

At heart, Veilguard is not a role-playing game. It's a fighting game. And not even a very well designed one. My not-a-fucking-rogue should never have aggro. That's not how this is supposed to work.

Why they felt going from a successful history of role-playing games to a stripped-down, poorly world built fighting game a good idea is just beyond me? Whoever made that decision honestly needs to be fired. And you will almost never see me say that. Jobs are too hard to find. But I will say it about Veilguard. The decisions made have ruined Veilguard in my honest, incredibly disappointed viewpoint.

They marketed this as a role-playing game. The expectation was for a role-playing game set in a richly detailed, deeply world built environment. Like most of the Dragon Age games have been. Especially Inquisition.

And we got a fighting game so stripped of world building that it's sad and just... boring.

Oh, heads up if you're disabled with any sort of disability that affects your hand eye coordination or ability to move your fingers quickly on a keyboard or controller. Don't buy this game. Even on the lowest setting with no death clicked on, you need a great deal of manual dexterity to use this crappy new fighting set up they've come up with. They definitely didn't think of physically disabled gamers at all in developing this. I'm just lucky my particular physical disabilities don't affect me that way. Though my hands are in agony from keeping my not-a-rogue out of the dragon on one side, stone wall on the other situation the fucked up aggro set up always puts me in.

They did bring gifts for companions back, which would thrill me if I actually had any desire to romance any of them. Which I honestly don't. And in games like these? It's often hard for me to pick which one. I often have to install a polyam mod so I can see the other romances because I'm usually so hot and bothered and just captivated by a Romanceable character or three that I won't be able to not romance them. Meaning I need the mod if I'm going to see the other romances.

I'm physically and mentally incapable of not romancing Astarion BG3. (I've tried!) Halsin gets me every time, too. Those are markers of excellent character development.

There's none of that in Veilguard.

Emmerich, and (as much as I hated his intro story, The Wigmaker,) Lucanis are the only slightly interesting characters to me.

Bellara is sweet and awkward, but they reduced her neurodivergent qualities so much it feels... off, to my neurodivergent ass. In the autistic people on tv way of off. (To date, there hasn't been much, if any, good rep of us on TV. It's all inspiration porn.) I don't feel seen in her. And I have quite a few traits she expresses. Whoever wrote her has my version of ADHD. But the way she's written, where she's constantly telling herself she's stupid or foolish or shouldn't do things? Those are markers of traumatized neurodivergence, not the ADHD itself they're highlighting. What that says is that, in her world, people have come down on her so hard for her differences, so often, that now she's mean to herself. ADHD kids aren't born like that. People make us like that. It's a sad representation of ADHD, not a celebratory or accepting one. It makes me feel like she, and me by extension, is to be pitied. Like someone like me, or Bellara, aren't worthy of respect, love, and trust. It's not a good feeling.

Neve is so suspicious and bitchy that I have no desire to even try to romance her. I want to shove Harding off a cliff.

Davrin is really suspiciously similar to Halsin BG3. Big, more blocky than usual for an elf, wants to do good, carves wood... but where Halsin really works (because of his deep character development and darkness) Davrin, while definitely hot and with an amazing voice... just falls flat.

Emmerich is a doll of prince charming manners and adorable fussiness. He's probably the character next to Lucanis who actually has the most darkness to him.

I really wanted to love Taash. And I like them a lot, but their 'you must choose only one' thing showed up really fucking early in the game. I didn't feel like I knew them yet, so they're just never going to work for my demisexual ass unless I actually replay this (unlikely?) with a polyam mod and basically plug my nose and close my eyes and leap into a relationship with them far earlier than I'm really comfy with.

So, there's some clarity for me on what's missing and why.

Genshin Impact has more draw for me as an adult gamer than Veilguard does. And that is absolutely a game targeted at teens and early twenties folks. It's also an incredibly well designed game with good world building, balanced fighting, and devs who know who their market is.

It's an old saw in content creation. But Know Your Market is a saw for a reason.

Section 10.2 here.

[tussive]

Okay, I think I'm going to text this to my manager.

"Hey Becky, I'm really sorry to bother you with more of this. I'm hoping after this that all of this can stop and I won't need to bother you about anything unless it's directly related to something with work. After talking with Ben last night and everything that has been going on, is it at all possible to not be scheduled on overnight with him? If that can't be accommodated, it's obviously fine. I can be professional and I'm not going to cause problems or anything just because I have to work with him on overnight. The thing is, I simply do not feel comfortable or safe working with him.

I know for a fact that he lies about things, I've watched him lie to other employees about situations that I was present for. If Jess was the only one who had approached me about Ben lying about me, I probably would not put much faith into it because I could absolutely see her misrepresenting situations or just lying herself about something because she doesn't like someone. But the night before Jess told me about Ben, Bailey approached me and told me the that Ben was saying the same thing to him. Bailey has never given me any reason to not trust him, so when he tells me that, I do believe him.

This time, the lie was so blatant and stupid, as far as I can tell, nobody even believed it because it was so obviously false. But because there is a history of him lying, I do not feel like this is going to be the last time that he lies about an employee and eventually I fear someone will end up getting in trouble over something they didn't do because of it. I don't want that to be me.

Like I said though, if you're unable to accommodate that, it's totally fine. I understand that you need to prioritize the needs of the restaurant over personal issues between employees. I just am very uncomfortable working with him now for longer periods of time, especially without other people present."

Does this seem like a dumb thing to text her? I don't know. Do I sound unreasonable or anything?

[toomanyopinionss]

My thoughts while watching

The Umbrella Academy (S4)

…HUH?!

ummmmm i’m sorry, what the ever loving FUCK did i just have the displeasure of watching?

spoilers btw, this is gonna be very raw and off the chest

i don’t know what to say, this was disappointment after disappointment. i don’t want to dog pile automatically though, so I’ll list out the very few things i liked about this season before i descend into madness:

The first two episodes. well paced and entertaining. although this could easily go on the bad list, cause they gave me false hope for this season.

nick offerman and megan mullally. ALWAYS a treat to see them on my screen.

Klaus’s relationship between Allison and Claire. very sweet.

a couple songs on the soundtrack

the fact that this season was short

i’m not joking that’s literally it. this was sooooo bad, i’m actually shocked.

let’s address the elephant in the room.

the character assassination of five needs to be studied

what the hell happened?! What happened to the guy that genuinely cared about his family? he didn’t abandon his family after FORTY some years in the future, and a jaunt to the past, but all of a sudden, he was ready to give up just like that??

his character this season was unfocused and lame. he looked bored half the time and unconcerned the other half. LUTHER felt more connected to this story than this mf did. remember when he murdered a room full of people? remembered when he kinda comforted klaus, or helped diego out, or had a heart to heart with viktor? this seasons five is like night and day from the old one.

and him and LILA?! barf

BARF. TOMATO TOMATO WHO ASKED FOR THIS?

i refuse to watch this sixty year old man in the body of a literal teenager poorly masquerading as a man get together with the wife of his brother, i won’t do it. the boy looks 18, come on are you fucking serious?!

oh but that’s not my only issue i ASSURE YOU

this season was a half baked, rush job to line netflix’s pockets.

and it could have been sooo good.

what do you mean, no one knows how ben died??

what do you mean the timelines are merging in on each other and people are noticing??

they completely dropped the ball off the face of the planet. this felt like a 10 page paper that was written in an hour. there’s soooo many plot holes, there’s no antagonist, nothing felt like it had meaning. nothing really mattered.

and speaking of not mattering, you know what completely breaks my heart? Ben.

i want someone to look me dead in my eyes and tell me that man was actually a legitimate character and not a plot device. ive never seen a character done so dirty in EVERY SINGLE SEASON ARE YOU JOKING? they never let his character breath. the only tear i shed this season was when he looked at viktor and cried, saying he was scared. that’s when i realized that the writers really don’t give a shit about him… they don’t care about his character arc, HE NEVER EVEN HAD ONE. it felt weird and disgusting.

i’m not gonna talk abt the end.

i’m done, i can’t do this anymore. i feel deceived. i feel like i wasted my time watching this series. the people behind the show clearly didn’t care about it, so why should I?

2/10, fuck this.

[that-sw-writer]

Hiii, could I please request for kylo ren where they childhood sweethearts and now they're fighting on diff sides of the war and just ALOTTTT of angst. Maybe the reader finally realising that kylo is in too deep with the dark side??

Thxx 🩷

Thanks for requesting this! It was fun to write!! I did get a bit carried away with the length of it but we move

Word count: 2630

Warnings: heavy angst, totally made-up sequels timeline, sadder than I intended

MASTERLIST

Ghosts of the Past

How had it come to this? Years spent together, learning, growing, falling in love... all of it, corrupted by dark side of the Force. You and Ben Solo had dreamt of a future together, but where you had once dreamt of a utopia, you now found yourself living in a grim dystopia.

You had tried to forget him, but avoidance was impossible when his face was plastered across the galaxy on First Order propaganda. Each holovid or poster was a painful reminder of everything you had lost. It was heart-wrenching.

Eventually, destiny had reached you, just as it had reached Ben all of those years ago when he took on the name Kylo Ren. The Resistance had used Luke Skywalker's old notes from the early days of his Jedi Temple and managed to track you down. It wasn't an unwelcome invitation to join them, you had always wanted to fight the good fight, after all, that's what Jedi were supposed to do. Your real, and only, concern was that you knew eventually this path would lead you face-to-face with the one person you couldn't stomach confronting. Perhaps Ben knew you were alive, perhaps he didn't. Did he still care about you? You never let yourself dwell on these thoughts for too long. You couldn't bear it. 

You felt fulfilled working with the Resistance. It was nice to know that you were making a difference to lives in the galaxy and you hoped that Luke would be proud of your efforts. Most of your time and energy went into working with Rey, helping her to become the Jedi she was destined to be. You were terrified of facing Kylo Ren, not knowing if you could face having to fight him. The least you could do was prepare Rey for that fight.

When the Resistance intercepted intel that Supreme Leader Ren would be planet-side, a snap decision was made to send an agent out to face him and end the First Order once and for all. Your heart dropped when Leia asked you to go instead of Rey. You knew Rey was far from ready. You knew you were the only one capable of facing him. And yet, it didn't make it sting any less.

'General, I don't know if I can do this.' You words were shaky at the mere thought of it.

'I know what I'm asking you to do, believe me. I wish it could be somebody else, and I'm sorry that it has to be you... but this is the only way.' There was rich emotion in the way Leia addressed you. She had known you since you and Ben had been together at the temple. She had been so excited at the prospect of her son falling in love with somebody like you, and she had treated you as one of her own since the day she met you. Now, all those years later, that hadn't changed. To Leia, you were family, and it broke her heart knowing the weight she was putting on your shoulders. But this wasn't just about you, it was about the galaxy. Deep down, you knew the truth. Leia hoped that you could pull her son back from the brink. Of course, the thought had crossed your mind countless times, but you had always hesitated to really consider it. The glaring fact was that Ben Solo could be lost and Kylo Ren all that remains. You weren't sure what would break you more, living in false hope or adjusting to a crushing reality.

'What if I can't bring him back?' Your voice was barely a whisper, and Leia's gaze hardened, but beneath her facade you could see tears brimming.

'Then you need to do what's best for the galaxy. We may never get this opportunity again.'

You repeated Leia's words like a mantra as your soared through hyperspace, nothing but your overbearing thoughts for company. You had to do this. You could save countless lives by defeating him. You may even be able to sway him back towards the light. Perhaps it was selfish to want him back so desperately. He had done awful things during his reign, but somewhere beneath the void of darkness was Ben Solo, the only man you had ever loved.

The intel you had was scarce, and that did little to comfort the persistent churning of your stomach as you approached Coruscant. Sources had informed the Resistance that Kylo Ren was visiting the planet with a battalion of troopers in an effort to restore order to the planet that was once the centre of the galaxy. Having been aligned with the First Order for some years, lawless groups had begun to overrun the core world; groups that only the Supreme Leader was powerful enough to bring to heel. The abundance of pirates and gangs was something you hoped to use to your advantage, not that you had entirely settled on your plan yet. You knew that stealth was the safest option. Sneak in, neutralise the Supreme Leader, sneak out and let them think that a rogue faction killed him. If only it were that simple... You would never forgive yourself if you didn't at least give him a chance.

As the hazy skies of Coruscant swept into your view, your gaze fell what you recognised as the abandoned Jedi temple - you recognised it from Master Skywalker's old Jedi texts. Attachment had once been a sin amongst Jedi, they saw it as a slippery path to the dark side. Ironic. Now, attachment was the only hope you had at returning Kylo Ren to the light.

You landed your ship in a public docking bay on the lower levels. Many were coming and going, it was an easy place to blend. Kylo Ren and his troops had been rumoured to be landing and starting their reclamation on level 5009 - they would start with the wealthier districts and work their way down. The lower levels were more than accustomed to the lawlessness that the whole planet was now enduring. You donned a simple hooded cloak as a disguise and began to slip through the crowds, using the Force to guide you towards the unmistakable signature of Ben Solo. The warm comfort that Ben's Force signature used to bring you was slowly ebbing away, a shiver ran down your spine the longer you locked onto his essence.

As you manoeuvred higher through the levels of Coruscant, your heart began to ache. Not because of what you were about to face, but because of what could have been. You pictured yourself roaming the upper levels with Ben, hand-in-hand as the sun set. Him with a rare smile on his face, you with a look of gratitude on yours. You had always sat together and spoken about all of the worlds you would one day explore. He used to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, tell you he couldn't wait to spend his life with you and then plant the most gentle of kisses on your lips. How could you not have seen it? Maybe if you had known he was being swayed by the dark side you could have helped him.

'You need to do what's best for the galaxy.' You focused your mind, repeating Leia's mantra. This wasn't about healing your wounds, it was about saving lives. You were just worried that you would destroy yourself in the process.

The reflection of shining white armour caught your gaze and snapped you out of your thoughts. You had found them. Small patrols of Stormtroopers littered level 4999 - Kylo was moving quickly through the insurgents. You had never known him to be so brutal. After spending a few moments studying the patrol patterns, you targeted a pair of troopers who were out of sync with the larger squadron. Throwing yourself in front of them, you tapped into the Force before they had a chance to react and used it to manipulate their actions. 'I am your prisoner; an insurgent who threatened to break the peace. You will take me to the Supreme Leader.'

'We will take you to the Supreme Leader.' Both troopers, now under your influence, spoke in unison. Playing the part, you placed your hands behind your back and one took ahold of your wrists as they marched you through the streets. You tried to hide your horror as you watched other troopers rounding up citizens and pirates alike, treating every living being as a criminal. Your fingers itched to grab your lightsaber from beneath your cloak and rescue the innocents, but you knew there was a bigger task at hand. You couldn't risk losing the element of surprise.

Your heart was pounding the closer you felt yourself drawing to Kylo, so much so you wondered if you would pass out before you got there. Your head was swimming. The last time you had seen him you had been in his arms, saying farewell before you went on an extended mission off-world. When you had returned, the temple had been demolished, Luke was nowhere to be found, and neither was the man who had your heart. It was only after that you found out the truth. He had been the one to destroy the temple... he had betrayed everything you stood for.

'Supreme Leader, we have captured an insurgent.' The troopers marched you to an isolated area where there was only a figure, cloaked in veil of darkness. You kept your head low, shielding your Force signature as your stared at his boots. Panic was setting in, there was every chance you would freeze when you saw his face. 

'I told you not to take prisoners.' He growled, 'stop wasting my time and kill her.' 

You bit back the overwhelming emotion you felt at hearing his voice and raised your head. 'I asked them to bring me here... to you.' Pulling your hood away from your face, your gaze met his and you nearly crumbled on the spot. His deep brown gaze was swimming with a darkness you weren't used to seeing, but what he couldn't mask was the flash of recognition upon seeing your face. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

'Leave us.' He eventually said, his tone losing its edge from his earlier command. The troopers scurried off and the pair of you were left standing in silence, like two monuments of a time once lost. After an eternity of heavy silence, he finally spoke. 'I thought you were dead.'

'It would be easier if I were.' Your voice was weak, but your stance remained solid. Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. Standing before him now, Leia's mantra was lost to you. You were either leaving here with him, or not at all.

'You shouldn't have come here.' His warning was delivered with a tone of remorse. 

'I didn't want to. I wasn't sure I could face you.' You took a moment to study his face. A deep scar cut through the middle of it and a hard-set frown seemed to constantly rest on it. But he was still your Ben. You still loved him.

'And now?' He was reading you the same way you were reading him, you could tell.

'Now I just want you back.' A hand tentatively reached up to rest on his cheek, but he grabbed your wrist before it could make contact. Your world shattered.

'I don't have such weaknesses anymore.' He was stone cold in his address.  Your mouth went dry. A weakness? That's all you were to him now. He had the face of the man you loved, but Ben Solo was gone. What was left was a shell of the man you had grown up with.

'How can you say that? After everything we've been through?' You spluttered, nearly choking on your own words. The world felt like it was closing in around you - this couldn't be happening.

'We have been through nothing. You're an echo of someone else's past, not mine.' Upon hearing his words, your resolve only hung on by a thread. Despite all of your mantras and focus, you had been too optimistic that this mission would end in Ben coming home with you.

'Ben, please-' you hadn't expected the words to erupt from your mouth, but your lungs were feeling tighter by the second. It wasn't real.

'That is not my name!' He roared, pushing you back with the force in a violent flurry. Having not been prepared for the attack, you flew backwards, slamming against a wall. 'Ben Solo is dead!' You hauled yourself to your feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in your back.

'If that were true, why am I still alive? You said yourself that I shouldn't have come here. If you didn't care for me you would've killed me on the spot.' The pain had helped you regain some of your composure. You could feel the conflict within him. The dark side clouded his judgement, but maybe you could break through.

He faltered at your words, but shook his head after a few moments. 'I was giving you a chance to walk away, not a mistake I'll make twice.'

'I can't walk away, not without you.' Your tone was laced with conviction, 'I love you, Leia loves you. I don't want to be apart of this war anymore, I just want you to come home. Please, Kylo, come back to me.' You made a conscious effort not to use Ben's name again. Perhaps speaking to him as Kylo Ren was the only way you could appeal to him.

'My home is with the First Order. I will rule the galaxy. I feel nothing for you, I feel nothing for my mother. I have given everything I have to the dark side.' He remained still, the dark energy coming off him in waves. It felt like the Force was playing a sick joke on you, poking fun at the Jedi who thought she could turn Kylo Ren back to the light. Your knees buckled, grief overcoming you. Ben Solo was dead. You lost.

'If that's true, then I have no place in this galaxy anymore.' You whispered, your voice breaking.

'No.' He approached you, solemn as ever. 'You don't.' As grief continued to wash over you, you couldn't bite back the tears that began to fall. Not because you were scared of what was to come, but because you couldn't bear the guilt of losing Ben Solo to the dark side. You had failed. Failed Ben, failed Leia, failed yourself. The more you tried, the more you felt the imposing essence of the dark side, wrapping around Kylo like a viper, ready to strike at any threats. There was nothing left for you in this galaxy anymore. The hope of regaining what you had lost had kept you going for all of these years, but you had never considered a path outside of that.

The crackling hum Kylo's lightsaber rumbled by your ear. Your body was stone, even if you had wanted to reach for your lightsaber to defend yourself, you couldn't. All you could do was close your eyes and let the Force whisk you away to a time where everything could have been different.

'I love you.' Ben's words were music to your ears. You looked up at him, beaming from ear to ear.

'I know.' You leaned up to plant a lingering kiss on his lips. 'I love you too, more than anything. I won't be gone long, I'll be back before you know it.'

'Anytime apart from you is too long.' His words were muffled as he buried his face in your hair.

'It's a good job we have the rest of our lives then.' Your lips met in another passionate kiss.

It was the future that should've been. You and Ben against the world, needing nothing but each other.

Instead, your world ended in a vicious flash of red.

[roetrolls]

Reined In

“Are you out of your mind? Are you stupid? What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Benjin,” Veylin interjects softly, ineffectual plea glancing off you as Mallum stares you down.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” He shoots back, defensive. “I was doing you a favor!”

“A favor? What the fuck do you mean a favor!?”

“You were better off not knowing.”

“Better off?” You echo incredulously, heart hammering in your chest, The way it pounds against your ribs, you’re half convinced it wants to kick them out and go strangle the idiot itself.

“What good would it have done?”

“What- WHAT GOOD!? How about fucking safety, Mallum? How about not getting ambushed?”

“You wouldn’t–”

“I think we deserve a little fucking warning, Mallum!”

“You wouldn’t have been ambushed!” He shouts, fins flaring outward 

“Oh really? You know that? You can see the future now, Mal?”

“Fucking listen to me!”

“Oh, I’m listening! I’m all fucking ears! Go ahead, what vision did you have? Was it anything like his?” You cock your head at Zurven, tucked silently against Veylin’s hip at the edge of the room. 

You hate this. You hate acting like this, hate that they’re seeing you like this, but you can’t seem to quell the fury that roars inside your throat. The heat of it is enough to make your hands shake, and you clench them at your sides.

“I told Aderae–”

“Oh! Great! Aderae got to know before we did, I’m so glad! What a bond you two must have, sounds really beautiful.”

“Would you let me fucking finish!?” he snaps. “I told Aderae I saw them. You were safe.”

“Okay!? And what about you!?”

“What about me?”

“They have your fucking blood, Mallum! They have means to fucking track you, you don’t think we need to know that?”

“No! I don’t!”

“You don’t.”

“It didn’t concern you.”

“It’s fucking Harlan!”

“Yeah!?” Mallum throws his arms out in some semblance of a shrug, fixing you with a bewildered stare. “He’s not your problem, Ben! It’s not your job to save us from him!”

“He is my problem, Mallum! And I don’t expect you to fucking get it, but I thought you could at least use your fucking brain. This isn’t the kind of thing you keep from us. That’s not your choice to make.”

“Well maybe it should be!”

A dark cloud seems to descend over the room, over you, as the words leave his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” you ask, voice startlingly low in your own ears. 

The tension, thick and binding, constricts around your lungs. You flex an antsy fist in hopes of shaking it while Mallum watches you with expression unflinching, stone cold in his conviction that he has truly done nothing wrong. It sends another wave of anger crashing over you, searing and violent.

“You weren’t there,” you grit, uncomfortably aware of your own hands. You relax them just to clench your fists again, arms laden with an energy you don’t know how to dispel.

“That’s exactly why! None of you are going to be objective when–”

“This isn’t the fucking time to be objective! You put us in danger, Mallum, you put yourself in danger! Do you seriously not understand how fucked that is?”

“You were safe,” Mallum huffs again, his impatient indignation like a slap to your face. “I wasn’t worried.”

“Gosh, well in that case!” your sardonic tone is offset slightly by the volume of your voice. Try as you might, you can’t seem to lower it, locked into a shout that leaves your head pounding and your lungs pumping. “My bad, you guys, Mallum wasn’t worried! False alarm!”

“If you knew, you would never leave the hive again.”

“For good fucking reason!”

“I’m telling you, Benjin, it’s not a big deal!”

“YES IT IS!” you shriek, arms tensing as you are hit suddenly with the impulse to swing. A voice in the back of your head urges you to get your frustrations out, to strike the wall and allow the white-hot rage buzzing in your ears to pour through your arm into the world around you. You can almost feel it, like a phantom’s touch across your knuckles, aching, begging you to drive them into something with the full brunt of your emotion.

Your breath catches in your throat, anger all at once replaced with stark, overwhelming fear. That instinct isn’t yours. It shouldn’t be yours.

Chest heaving and head swirling, you take a small step back, eyes wide, then spin on your heel and storm from the room without a word.

[frownyalfred]

I am hoping you can help me better understand something about my Zach Snyder feelings, because I know you have enjoyed his work.

I have conflicting feelings and I THINK it comes down to a different imagery language and some unnamed thing in his storytelling. It's mostly the unnamed thing I'm trying to ID.

When I describe broadly the plots, character motivation (obviously as I understand them), and events, I find myself very interested in his movies and what they have to say. Then I rewatch and I don't feel the same way. It feels dark (desaturation or whatever that filter is called), overly dramatic in a way that feels cartoonist or silly instead of meaningful, or boring and slow. There are some engaging moments some that are action some that are pretty or funny. However, few that move/engage me.

I know people often love or hate Snyder but I mostly feel his movies exist, have a few interesting elements but overall if they weren't about characters I was interested in, I just wouldn't watch. I don't hate or love it. I don't think it's the greatest or the worst.

Example of a storytelling concept that I get and liked in theory but not execution. The Martha, why did you say that name moment. Snyder is connecting Bruce to Clark's "humanity" in a way that hits Bruce in a place where he is always vulnerable and is primal/basic. When people mock this scene I have the urge to defend because I understand (in my way) what he was going for, but I can't because at no point in watching or rewatching that scene do I feel that. Even though he rehashed the Wayne's death in the beginning, then connects back to it during their fight about what his parent's taught Bruce. It still FEELS out of place and "falsely" dramatic.

That's all I can think to give as an example and not make this longer (sorry this is long). But if my descriptions click something for you as a writer and fan of Snyder, please let me know. I just don't know what it is about his storytelling and it's annoying to not understand why there is this disconnect.

Thank you for your patience, if you even get thru this, LOL.

I'm not a film major and I am definitely no expert, but I've been thinking about this ask. I agree with a lot of what you brought up, though it is hard to describe what that exact disconnect is with Snyder's films, and you'll get a million different opinions depending on who you ask.

To me, Snyder's DC films always feel like movies that were excellent plots on paper wrapped around a series of interesting and awe-inducing visuals and scores. There are scenes he does well -- one of my favorites being the initial scene in BVS where Bruce runs into the Battle of Metropolis -- almost because they feel like a separate, isolated moment in his script. There are scenes that drag, exposition dump, and feel dark and strange.

There seems to be a disconnect between him, the writer, and him, the director. He's good at both, don't get me wrong -- but there's something missing in between.

People on reddit will tell you the problem with BVS, at the end of the day, is all the plot holes or the cheesy dialogue. I mostly disagree. Especially after seeing Oppenheimer recently, I think Snyder struggles with building and maintaining the pace of his plot and the emotions he's trying to cultivate in his viewers. Continuity is key -- scenes building up on each other, revealing new layers of meaning and importance, leaving viewers guessing only on the least-obvious plot points.

He has all the pieces -- decent dialogue, powerhouse actors, amazing CGI, a script most people wouldn't laugh at on paper -- but they don't quite form a whole.

I did a quick review of some the things I like about BVS, thinking through this ask, and I think it's pretty revealing that most of those things are pieces, not overall themes.

The Battle of Metropolis flashback

Ben Affleck visually as Bruce Wayne

Lex's scenes with the Senator

The score

Kryptonite/Training scene

Lex's entry into Zod's ship

Diana

Bruce at the fundraiser

Warehouse fight scene

Alfred's dialogue

Lakehouse shots

Knightmare scene

As for the Martha scene, my inclination is that it's rarely out of place or strange when written correctly. In fics, I've seen it done very well. But Snyder doesn't use it for what it is -- a climax of Bruce Wayne's anger and misguided actions -- because he never truly brought the viewer all the way along with Bruce.

TL;DR: I don't know either. But I agree and commiserate with you on this. I still enjoy watching BVS and other Snyder films, but seeing other films -- especially Nolan's, which I'm not saying are theoretically better -- makes the difference very jarring.