#if you’re response is something along the lines of ‘well those fans deserve to die’ or ‘that’s what they get’

[sadaveniren]

Reminder that actively posting hate towards celebs you don’t otherwise follow because you don’t think they deserve the fame/recognition they get only hurts their fans.

And I get that might not mean much to you because you’re an asshole but at least acknowledge that you’re being purposefully hurtful to people who - on a whole - are minding their own business because your posts are never going to reach that celebrity.

[stuckonstarker]

only a kiss

Months of brewing feelings bubble up to the surface as Peter and Tony share a kiss on movie night.

Tony didn’t think much of it when he invited Peter over for a movie night. It was a simple break from their respective responsibilities as Spider-Man and Iron Man. He figured they both deserved it; an hour or so of mindless entertainment with each other’s company.

Maybe he should’ve been more privy to it, though. The way the air shifts when they’re together. He might’ve been able to avoid the inevitable for a little longer, then.

Peter has grown into Tony’s equal. No longer is he the nerve-wracked kid being mentored by Tony. No, now he’s an adult with a certain ease to him that wasn’t there merely a year prior. 

They both acknowledge this development in a silent agreement.

Tony notices that Peter’s once soft features have sharpened. His jawline is much more defined, his eyes less reserved and more emboldened, and his lips often upturned in a subtle smile that brims with confident mischief.

He has an elegant way about him now as he walks with his head held high and he says things with steadfast conviction.

As Peter changed with the seasons so too did Tony’s opinion of him. From a young boy, shy and anxious, to a man, self-assured and sensible.

The shift in Tony’s opinions was inconsequential at first. Nothing more than a mere whisper, the tiniest spark of something wholly imperceivable at the time.

But, as the whisper got louder and the flame grew, Tony came to realize the pleasant warmth in his chest was something else entirely. Something much darker, much more depraved, than the mentorly affection he had previously mistaken it for.

It seemed harmless enough, though, to briefly indulge in the sensual pleasure Peter provides. Only a quick kiss to the forehead or a hug that goes on a second too long.

Tony continued to fan the flames, unaware of how truly bad his passionate need for Peter was getting. But there was something in Tony, almost primal, that demanded he get closer with Peter. To carve an irreplaceable slot for himself in Peter’s life. 

Peter seemed to have no objections to that; for no matter how much Tony wanted to take, Peter was willing to give.

Tony seemed to have found a balance. As he restricted himself just enough to avoid hurting his protege while also having enough connection to satisfy that cruel whisper within him. 

It was working quite well for a while.

And then Peter began reciprocating Tony’s subtle affections.

Thus began months of them sharing lingering stares full of longing; quiet giggles and inside jokes they never bothered to include others in; compliments that edge just on the border of inappropriate. Nothing ever explicit, but the implications clear enough.

It was always a fine line, Tony realizes, they were always a step away from disaster. So, he should’ve expected this - he really should’ve - but denial is such an intoxicating drug.

The mood around them both is often infected with their want for one another; poorly concealed and hard to resist. Even with something as simple as a movie night, there’s an unmistakable longing in the air.

So, it truly didn’t take much.

They laughed together. Tony held Peter close; so close you’d think they were trying to merge into one. Peter shifted so he was in Tony’s lap - to which Tony had no complaints - and the laughter continued. 

The air of ease allowed them to forget the act. As they laid in one another’s arms the rest of the world began to melt away, allowing for their inhibitions to leave them.

So now, after months of impatient buildup, Peter’s straddling Tony and their faces are mere inches apart. Tony’s hands rest on Peter’s hips as he relishes in the sweetness of their bond. He doesn’t allow his hands to drift, however - a futile, last ditch attempt to convince himself that their relationship is just platonic.

The darkness of the room makes it easy for Tony’s resolve to crack, though, as he feels himself being drawn to Peter. A magnetic force that overtakes both of them. There’s a sensual warmth that floods their minds, washing out any rational thought.

Peter’s nose touches Tony’s.

A brief panicked thought of ‘This isn’t right!’ flashes through Tony’s mind before it’s aborted just as suddenly.

Any logical thought Tony might have is dashed by the alluring nature of Peter’s plush, pink lips that whisper his name so delicately:

“Tony.”

He finds himself swallowing around his nervousness. He quite honestly can’t remember the last time someone made him feel such a way, he must’ve been a teenager; much like Peter is currently, his brain supplies quite unhelpfully.

He asks, “Yes?”

“Will you do me a favor?” Peter asks.

Tony nods.

Peter whispers, “Kiss me. Just once.”

Tony feels his grip on Peter tighten ever so slightly. This desperate yearning inside him screaming to do as Peter says, but still, he has a smidge of morality left. While Peter is technically legal, Tony can’t imagine a world where this relationship would ever be right.

Peter notices this hesitation with a small smile, “It’s only a kiss, Tony, just one. That’s all I ask from you right now.”

They’re so close, Tony realizes suddenly, but he doesn’t make a move to change it. He doesn’t want to. And he’s still a selfish, selfish man, so he allows himself this contact.

His heart lurches, stutters to what feels like a stop, before picking up pace and battering against his ribcage.

All at once, Tony is forced to admit that he wants and he wants badly. And that Peter wants just as badly as well. That there is not a feeling on Earth that could ever compare to being within Peter’s comforting embrace.

“I can’t kiss you,” Tony says, “I… don’t deserve it.”

Peter says, “Oh, but you do.”

The room is dark, illuminated only by the TV playing a long-forgotten movie. It’s silent, save for their breathing. They’re shrouded in an aura of years of pining and want and need. And, maybe at this moment, Peter can convince Tony to take what he wants so desperately.

Tony moves a hand cautiously to Peter’s beautiful curls and it feels like silk to the touch. Peter smiles at the contact, making a noise of contentment.

And then, in a move that’s just as slow as it is swift, Tony guides Peter’s lips toward his and, before those pesky thoughts of right and wrong can object, they are locked in a kiss.

It’s soft and sweet, much like Peter himself. It feels like they’re lips are dancing, they move together in perfect sync and harmony. It’s bliss, Tony must admit, to finally claim the reward he’s been refusing himself for so long. To finally indulge in Peter’s sinfully sweet taste.

The pace is slow as they both take their time basking in the electrifying pleasure that comes with such love. Everything about their movements is gentle, testing the waters and pushing their preconceived boundaries.

Tony’s hands move to Peter’s thighs and Peter holds the sides of Tony’s face as their lips glide together. And, much braver now, Tony tenderly nips Peter’s bottom lip as if asking permission for more. Permission which Peter grants as his lips part like a delicate flower blooming.

Tony’s light-headed from want as his tongue swipes along Peter’s; the action so overwhelmingly intimate that it sends shockwaves through him. Peter moans desperately into the kiss and Tony hums back, acknowledging his sweetheart's want. 

They’re clinging to each other, becoming one and whole together. It’s perfect, it’s everything they’ve ever wanted and more. But, like all good things, it must come to an end.

They pull from each other slowly. It’s like time itself has come to a stop as they look into each other's eyes, foreheads touching.

They, shrouded in darkness and overflowing with warmth and want, stare longingly into one another’s eyes for what seems like an eternity. Everything melts away and the only thing that matters now is them and only them.

They’re both panting and overheating. 

Peter, out of breath, scoffs a laugh and - before he can stop himself - whispers: “I love you.”

The words are raw with real want and emotion. His body so filled to the brim with joy it needed to be expressed somehow. And what way better than such a pure confession?

The silence that fills the room is deafening, as if even the universe itself is watching with bated breath waiting to see what will happen next. 

Everything moves in slow motion as they both come to their separate realizations.

Peter; who���s just realized how much those words weigh, how much he truly means them as well, how his heart - for so long - has ached to be close to Tony, and how he would do anything if it meant he got to spend the rest of his life held in Tony's tight embrace.

He feels like he could fly.

Tony; who realizes how far gone he truly is, how selfish he is, how even when he tries he can’t help but mess everything up, how this was all a mistake from the very start, and how he should’ve never recruited Peter - should’ve never taken such a bright flame in just to snuff it out.

He feels like he could die.

“I think you should go,” his voice strangled as the words are ripped from his throat by force.

In an instant, Peter pulls back -  his eyes wide in disbelief.

He hesitates for a moment before asking, “what?” because he surely must’ve heard wrong, because surely Tony didn’t say what Peter fears he said.

Tony sighs, the words even harder to say the second time, but he resolves himself, “You should go, Pete.”

Peter scoffs, for real this time, and says, “You’re kidding me, right?”

He’s straddling Tony’s legs, still dizzy from the kiss and, yet, Tony has the gall to say:

“I’m not, Peter, you need to leave.”

“Why?” Peter asks, keeping his voice steady and hardening his stare. He refuses to be sent away so simply without even an explanation.

Tony huffs in frustration; telling Peter to leave was already so difficult enough and now, like usual, he has to deal with the boy’s stubborn attitude.

Tony's not quite sure what to say to express his dilemma. There are millions of thoughts racing through his head - millions of things he wants to say. 

Instead, he settles on, “Because I said so.”

He then goes to remove Peter from his lap; a rapid series of bad decisions he will soon realize as Peter - who’s finally reached his breaking point - uses the tiniest fraction of his super strength to keep Tony’s legs and arms pinned.

“No,” Peter says, jaw clenched, “I’m not leaving until you tell me why.”

A tiny flame of lust flickers within Tony at this predicament, but he stomps it out with his indignation.

Tony says, “Because this isn’t what we are.”

Peter laughs humorlessly, “Well, then, what are we?”

“Coworkers,” Tony says plainly.

Peter says, “Oh, yeah, I forgot coworkers have makeout sessions all the time.”

“It was just a kiss,” Tony says, “it didn’t mean anything.”

He didn’t mean it; regrets it the second the words leave his lips. But he’s said it, released those words into the air and they hang there for a moment. And a much thicker, tenser silence fills the room. They stare at each other as time seems to stretch out endlessly. And, then, something in the air snaps.

Peter releases his hold Tony and he breathes deeply.

“...Is that really how you feel?” He asks quietly.

Tony can feel every ounce of his body screaming ‘No!’ but he can’t keep Peter trapped here. It’s wrong, immoral, and selfish. 

He’s caught between his aching for Peter’s soft, loving touch and his need to keep Peter protected. Protected from himself, it seems.

It’s not fair how he has to be the one to send Peter away, Tony thinks, but then again when has anything in his life ever been fair?

So, resigning himself to a desolate fate, he sighs, “Yes, Peter.”

It’s silent, again, for a moment as Peter turns away from Tony’s gaze. Clear as day, the expression of hurt  seeps into his beautiful honey eyes. His lips quiver ever so slightly and he nods with the same forlorn acceptance of someone who’s in mourning. And Tony wants nothing more than to wrap Peter up in a comforting hold - to tell him that everything will be alright - but he’s perceptive enough to know that would only hurt Peter more.

“If that's what you want,” Peter says, voice shaking.

All of Peter’s certainty evaporates. He can feel himself crumbling, helpless to do anything about it. He’s not quite sure what to do next except for leave like Tony had said.

So, he removes himself from Tony’s lap robotically; his body moving on its own as if he’s been possessed. 

The edges of his vision blur and darken as the world around him begins to fall apart.

He spares one last glance at Tony - who, on the outside, looks quite unbothered by this whole situation while Peter’s quite obviously unraveling at the seams - before getting in the elevator and shakily pressing the button for the main lobby.

The elevator doors close and the sorrowful darkness attacks Peter. He can feel himself drowning in an endless ocean of grief; being pulled around by the tides and completely helpless to do anything about it.

Every part of him is aching, the pain almost choking him, and it fills him until he’s overflowing in the form of tears spilling from his eyes. 

He holds himself and sits in a corner of the lift as tears stream down his face.

Anguish builds in Peter’s throat and comes out a broken sob, “Why?”

There’s no answer for him. There never is. Not with his parents’ death nor his uncle’s and he doesn’t see why life would spare him this one either. All this grief always placed on him and - for a moment, brief and fleeting but wonderful nonetheless - he thought he had finally found happiness within the darkness.

He’s so caught in his heartache and can’t bring himself to think about anything besides Tony despite that only hurting him more.

It’s almost comical when the elevator chimes a friendly tune to alert Peter he’s at the main lobby.

When Peter steps off he can feel everyone’s eyes crawling all over him, but he doesn’t care what they think of him.

He speedwalks through the lobby, just wanting to get home as soon as possible. He keeps his eyes firmly focused on the floor. His heart is heavy and weighed down by rejection, but - even if his dignity is long gone at this point - he still tries to calm his crying to no avail. The tears continue to fall with little regard of how he feels about it, which makes him cry harder.

He stumbles his way to his apartment and stops in front of the apartment door. He can hear his breath, shaky from his endless sobbing and from the walk back. He half-heartedly tries to calm himself to no avail.

The first thing his blurry, teary-eyed vision sees when he opens the door is Aunt May sitting on the sofa. She looks at him for only a second before rushing to him and bombarding him with questions.

It’s all in good faith, Peter’s sure, but it just makes him sink even further into his sorrow.

He’s too vacant to truly process any of her questions at the moment, so he just accepts her warm embrace and sobs helplessly into her arms. She pets his hair and coos to him, but it doesn’t help. He’s honestly not sure anything will.

Through the fog of his grief he hears Aunt May say, “This is the second time you’ve come home crying because of that man, Peter, I will go down there myself if I have to.”

“No,” he says, voice wrecked from crying, “no, it’s fine, Aunt May, I’ll handle it.”

Her voice is sharp as she asks, “What needs to be handled?”

Peter hesitates.

The situation is complicated and he struggles to find the right words to properly explain it. Even if he could, May’s done so much for him already and the thought of bothering her with relationship troubles seems useless at best - burdening at worst. And - whether either of them like it or not - Peter’s an adult now which means he has to start handling certain things on his own.

“I just messed something up,” Peter lies, already feeling guilt joining the cocktail of emotions that is his eternal suffering, “it was pretty important, but I’ll fix it later… it’s just been a pretty tough day.”

He sniffles, his tears finally drying out. He rubs the wetness off his face and looks up at her with a smile dampened by sadness.

He forces a reassuring tone as he says, “It’ll be fine.”

May looks at him for a moment, her eyes stern and studying behind her glasses, before sighing, “Okay, but tell me if you need anything.”

Peter nods, “Of course, Aunt May.”

He winces at the sound of his voice which is still cracked and uneven from his crying. But, for the time being at least, May seems convinced that Peter isn’t falling apart which - in his opinion - is a job well done.

Peter slumps off to his room and then flops into his desk chair. He forces himself to breathe deeply to calm his nerves. He’s somewhat able to get his bearings despite still being knee deep in the waters of misery.

His mind’s brimming with questions; all of which are, unsurprisingly, unanswered.

The kiss wasn’t just a kiss. It felt like so much more… or that’s how Peter felt, anyway, and he was almost positive that Tony felt the same way.

For a long while, Peter’s noticed the way Tony’s eyes linger on him; the way Tony watches him with an unreadable stare. And the things that Tony says to him - while always subtle - present very clear implications.

And, sure it took some convincing, but Tony kissed him back and seemed to enjoy it just as much.

Peter struggles for a moment as he considers maybe…

Maybe he has been reading too much into things? Even though that provokes a nigh unbearable ache in his heart it’s really the only thing that makes sense.

Those longing stares, just figments of Peter’s hopeful imagination, those subtle comments just jokes, even the kiss - so meaningful to Peter - just another kiss to Tony.

While it all meant the world to him it was just another day for Tony, he realizes.

He stares at his desk, that’s all he really can bring himself to do. There’s an emptiness in Peter’s heart suddenly and he feels dizzy from it.

Everything’s just falling and falling and - like always - he can’t do anything to stop it. He feels tremors wrack through his body as the overwhelming tides of grief make their unwelcome return.

A sob forces its way through his throat.

It’s like being buried alive, he thinks, alone and helpless; resigned to your grim fate.

He allows himself to cry this time, though, feeling just a little safer in the confines of his room.

He trods over to his bed and plants himself between the covers as his crying continues. He turns and comes face-to-face with an Iron Man Build-a-Bear.

He nearly screams.

He throws the stupid bear out of sight, not really caring where it lands, and pulls the covers close. 

He tries so desperately to force himself into a fitful sleep but he can’t. Tony’s laugh, his jokes, his compliments all play on repeat inside of his head. And, try as might, the only image his brain can conjure is Tony’s stern eyes and sweet smile.

Back at Stark Tower, Tony is going through a similar dilemma.

He wants so badly - almost needs - but it’s his job to do right by Peter. And he knows, even if it kills them both, Peter will be better because of this.

Tony tries to keep his resolve, but it continues slipping. He loves Peter so much and now that they’ve been separated Tony feels like he’s dying.

Peter’s an angel. His curls are soft, silky and brown; his eyes are vibrant - shining like pools of liquid gold; his lips pulled into an almost perpetual smile and flushed carnation.

Tony knows he’s let heaven slip through his fingers, but hell is a comfort few understand like he does.

He continues fighting with himself as the voice in his head, once an inconsequential whisper, screams at him to return to Peter’s side. The moral part of him reminds him why he’s done this and why, despite all the pain it’s caused, it’ll be good for him and Peter in the end. 

Tony feels a familiar, frightening itch under his skin to grab a bottle of whiskey.

He considers, for a moment, that maybe this is hell. That he might’ve died and this is his torture for his lustful attachment to his ward.

He’s quite uncertain how to move forward now.

He wants nothing more than to embrace Peter, kiss him, love him to the ends of the world and back. It eats away at him and rolls through his body. He starves for Peter’s affection; it makes him feel like an insatiable monster.

But, despite it all, Tony forces himself to ignore it. Ignore the way his heart chases after Peter, ignore the forlorn expression Peter wore when he was sent away. Ignore it all, push it down and suppress it until it disappears.

He gets up from the couch. No use wallowing in sadness, he supposes, as he begins stalking off to the lab.

The elevator door chimes, though, stopping him in his tracks. A bright forest fire of hope ignites in his chest. His secret, guilty desire that Peter will come back and demand more. It shocks him how quick and turns and-

It’s Pepper. The lights flicker on as she steps through the elevator (thanks, FRIDAY).

Tony can feel the disappointment tug at his features and he can’t be bothered trying to hide it.

“A couple people saw Peter walking through the lobby crying his eyes out,” Pepper says.

Pepper has an ice cold stare while her lips are held in a stern, straight line. She stands there; her heels firmly planted on the floor with her arms crossed.

Tony’s heart clenches at the thought of sweet Peter walking through the lobby, tears streaming down his pretty face as he heads home hopelessly.

“Oh,” Tony says. He looks at the spot next to Pepper instead of subjecting himself to her judgemental stare.

Pepper says, “Oh? So, you know something about this?”

Her voice is accusatory right out of the gate. Which is fair, she - although while never saying anything outright - has always seemed to understand there was more to Peter and Tony’s relationship than the surface.

“It’s complicated, Pep,” Tony says.

Pepper says, “Well, uncomplicate it then, Tony.”

“We kissed, he told me he loved me, and that’s not okay so I told him to leave,” Tony says, voice getting meeker as he reaches the end of his sentence, truly realizing how much of an ass he sounds like.

“Why the hell would you do that?” She asks.

She walks toward him, her steps so filled with vitriol that Tony’s genuinely worried she’s going to hit him.

Tony says, “Peter’s a good person. He deserves someone who can give him what he needs and that someone is not me, Pep!”

“Do you love him?” Pepper asks.

Tony pauses.

She sighs, “Do you love him or not, Tony?”

“Of course! Of course I love him! Who wouldn’t?” Tony says, “He’s amazing, brillant, beautiful - I would literally die for him, Pepper, but - no matter how much I love him - us getting together would only hurt him.”

Pepper’s unimpressed expression doesn’t inspire confidence in Tony.

She exhales deeply before saying, “It’s not your job to protect him anymore. He’s an adult now, he’s got his own ambitions and his own life and he can make his own decisions. You don’t get to decide that you’re not good enough for him.”

“That’s… no, Pep, no I… just - he’s so-” Tony rambles on, making random gestures with his hands.

She snaps, “Tony!”

Tony’s mouth shuts and he looks at her.

“Listen to me, very carefully, okay?” She says.

Tony nods.

“Okay,” Pepper continues, “what you are going to do, because you love Peter so much, is you are going to find him and apologize for sending him away and you are going to tell him how you feel.”

Tony shakes his head, “I can’t-”

“You can,” She cuts him off, “and you will, otherwise, Tony, you will lose him and you will spend the rest of your life wallowing in regret of what could’ve been.”

She gives him a brief, supportive smile before the clicking of her heels signal her departure.

Tony sighs and rubs at his face.

Maybe, he thinks, being selfish one more time won’t hurt.

*

Peter’s hiding under his covers. He’s blocking out the world in a futile attempt to make the pain disappear. 

He feels the soothing melody of sleep sing to him. And just as he starts to fall asleep, he hears something tapping at his window.

He jolts up from his bed and looks to the window.

Tony Stark is standing on his fire escape like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Peter blinks hard. He briefly wonders if he’s lost his mind; that maybe this is a delusion from his desperate mind.

Tony taps on the window and says, muffled by the glass, “We need to talk.”

Peter shuffles over to the window and opens it.

“What the hell are you doing?” Peter asks; a surge of incandescent rage sparking within him only for it to be snuffed out just as quick.

Peter steps back as Tony clambers through the window - basically falling through it.

Peter watches with a tight expression on his face.

He asks, voice much softer this time, “What are you doing, Tony?”

“I-” Tony says, standing then continuing, “I am… uh… well, I’m not sure what I’m doing, to be honest with you. But I’ve been tormented these past few months by my own soul. Peter, whenever I close my eyes you’re what I see and whenever I imagine heaven it’s you with me.”

Peter breathes deeply, “And what does this mean exactly?”

“It means that,” Tony pauses, forcing down his apprehension, “I love you. I love you with all my might and, for so long, I’ve restricted myself to just dreaming, but I can’t anymore. I can’t watch idly and let you slip through my fingers, Peter, and I must admit that I’ve been a selfish ass these past few months. However, if you can find it within yourself to forgive me, I’ll love you unabashedly and I’ll love you purely.”

A sudden rush of joy floods Peter so quickly he feels light-headed from it.

“Do you mean that?” He asks, his voice so soft he wonders if the words even left his lips in the first place.

Tony nods and grabs Peter’s hands in his own. He presses his forehead against Peter’s and they stare into each other’s eyes for a moment.

“I say this with all my conviction, darling,” Tony whispers, voice raw, “you are the only one for me.”

Peter feels a stuttered breath pass his lips. A fiery feeling, that of pure want, burns throughout his body, infecting his mind, soul, and body until there’s hardly anything left.

He smiles, “I forgive you… I don’t think I could ever bring myself not to.”

“So, we’re together then?” Tony asks as he brims with apprehension.

Peter says with a watery smile, “We always have been.”

The world seems to pause for a moment as they look in longing at each other. It’s a sudden uncertainty, they’ve been gifted the most coveted treasure of all. Love. They are both nervous in each other’s arms as they hesitate; in fear that one wrong move will send it all crashing down.

Tony’s eyes trace Peter’s face. His eyes dark, gentle as they admire Peter with such delicate precision Peter swears he can almost feel it.

Tony studies Peter; his eyes of chocolate, his strawberry lips, and porcelain skin with a flush so perfect it looks painted on.

Tony rests his hand on Peter’s jaw and swipes his thumb across the young man’s bottom lip. Peter’s tongue reacts immediately darting out to lick the calloused fingertip.

The action, simple as it is, sparks a bright fire within Tony’s body. An even deeper want filled with sensuality and sex. He can feel the last of his restraint unraveling until nothing remains, but - unlike before - he does not scramble to stop it. In fact, he encourages the last of his hesitations to slip through his fingers.

“I want you,” Tony admits ashamedly.

For he feels such remorse for lusting after someone as near divine as Peter. 

Peter only smiles; his lips upturned in a knowing smile and eyes glittering with golden mischief. With his voice soft and soothing, like the summer wind sweet in its brevity, he says:

“Then take me.”

[onbeinganangel]

okay so @eat-yearn-cry and @tackytigerfic asked for a wee liveblog of me reading capri so i am here to embarrass myself

here are my notes from a five-ish hour reading sesh yesterday (thanks @the-starryknight for witnessing this live and sending me your fav capri art for visual references —read: thirst — as i read along)

if you think there is going to be any clever analysis here, please go somewhere else now, this is pure, unhinged screaming (i’m serious, none of this makes sense, it’s a whole mess and i redacted like 50 ‘oh my god???????’s, 30 ‘jesus/mary/joseph/christ’s and 20 ‘oh fuck’s already)

here we go

- a character list!!!! it’s like they know i have a wasteland for a brain and i’m gonna need to come back to that a million times

- okay so far we are feeling very sorry for damen but he’s fiery (big fan)

- he’s a hardheaded bastard, gimme like half an hour and i’ll probably be willing to die for him lmao

- me reading the character list and wondering why it just says ‘pet’, me three lines into the first chapter like OH PET LIKE PET PET OKAY GOT IT omfg mari

- “an astonishingly lovely face” “arrogant and unpleasant” “self-absorbed and self-serving spoilt” (it’s either a description of me or i’m in love)

- “what’s your name, sweetheart” okay FINE

- “i speak your language better than you speak mine, sweetheart��� I SAID FINE (here for the polyglot representation we deserve lol)

- all of this is problematic and i shouldn’t find it hot but hey ho

- “something obscene about someone with a face like that speaking those words” indeed

- oh laurent is only twenty yikes

- boot kissing, thank you gods, mari is v pleased (also just glossing over the /bad/ because double yikes)

- unsure how to feel about Damen going off in his own language which only Laurent (?) understands and then Laurent twisting his words? is Laurent protecting himself? agreeing with Damen? which is it?

- oh

- unlacing

- oh

- flogging but of the bad kind

- okay

- if these two don’t stop calling each other sweetheart i’m calling the police

- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh 🚨 omfg

- “I was on the field at Marlas” ”It’s your countryman who taught me that. You can thank him for the lesson.” ”Thank who?” ”Damianos, the dead Prince of Akielos” hahahahaha okay

- the regent is back an hes brought back the other two guys, yea? and they’re all conspiring against laurent? but laurent doesn’t like kastor???? THEREFORE, jumping to conclusions like a circus cat through hoops, DAMEN LIKES LAURENT bc if you hate the same people you’re immediately pals that’s how it works

- so we’ve got a hotheaded brunette who’s a bit of a brute with a cause and a clever snarky blonde ready to subtly fuck shit up??? idk why anyone would have thought i’d be into this

- “the aloof, untouched Laurent was at this moment delivering a precise treatise on cocksucking” STUFF JUST ESCALATES OUT OF NOWHERE IN THIS BOOK DUNNIT

- Damen asking Erasmus about how he’s treated and after the other slaves???? ”Tell me everything that has happened to you since you left Akielos” 🥺 this is it, it took me hours, but we are hERE, i am willing to die for Damen

- oh no

- oh nooooo

- i am gonna go off

- NOT ERASMUS

- protect his tiny head and beautiful curls pls i will do anything

- also fuck, not Damen promising obedience in exchange for a guarantee that the other slaves will be treated well 😭😭😭

- Laurent is a scheming little bitch and i love him

- also should have mentioned earlier but Nicaise can get fucked (considering the themes of this book i should probably consider how i express my dislike for characters but you get the point, he’s a dickhead)

- THE FORK

- torveld/erasmus, okay 🥺

- Nicaise is the regent’s pet???? ofc he is jfc the little shit

- damen is talking to torveld, the baby back in akielos is totally his, i’m calling it now

- also torveld told him he looks a bit like kastor !!!! and boy oh boy is damen shitting himself rn

- oooh hunting

- wait LAURENT IS NICE!? tbd

- also damen just admiring how fucking stunning laurent is and he’s just his type but it’s such a shame the good looks are wasted on such an unpleasant person lmao

- when you think about it, without the rape and the slavery and the violence, they just sit about on silk pillows and scheme and eat, it’s a pretty good deal

- DAMEN HAS BEEN SUMMONED TO LAURENT’S BED????? or so they say, i’m unconvinced,

- OH SHIT

- oh shit

- the boys have finally reached third base: committing murder together (first base is when you get sucked off by someone else via your lover’s strict instructions, second base is when you eat off your lover’s fingers, don’t @ me i don’t make the rules)

- so the idiot really decided it was a great idea to try to escape post murder attempt???? even though Laurent told him what would happen AND IT HAPPENED

- he’s saved!!!!!!!!!

- ”You must be the fuck of a lifetime” sir they have barely touched

- i am Nervous

- this is a fucking trip

- oh no the regent is bad and trying to fuck it all up who could have seen that coming 🙄

- okay alright so — fuck — first damen tries to escape but laurent gets him back and then they still want to arrest/kill damen but laurent defends him and then laurent wants damen to be stuck in his room for months while he’s away but then he sends for him and they’re off to war together?????? my brain isn’t here anymore sorry

- “He was dressed in Laurent’s colours, and bearing his insignia” hhhhhh i’m stupidly into this

- also Nicaise and the earring and whatvs? i’m sure there’s something there, more than Nicaise simply being an arsewipe but i can’t figure it out rn, thoughts later but he’s a shit stirring cunt i can tell you that

- SO THAT’S JUST IT!?

and this is where i messaged Starry and asked her to stop me from starting the second book at 10 to midnight, thank you Starry lmao

off to ignore my responsibilities and start the second book now

[kagesdumpsterfire]

Jensen about 18 and Jensen responded by validating people who thought that Castiel’s confession was platonic.

Rando pop-up nonners, is that you? If it is, my my you've been busy the past couple days. Or are you perhaps the Jpad stan that found their way on to my blog? Either way, Imma handle this ask as pleasantly as possible.

I'm pretty sure the only official capacity that Jensen spoke about the scene in, was an interview with EW, in which the confession itself isn't discussed. He talks about the handprint and how during Misha's speech it finally started to hit him that it was over and he had a hard time holding it together as he watched everyone around them start to cry, but no mention of the confession. (I can't remember the whole interview now, and could only find snippets but the portion about that scene had no mention at least)

If you are referring to the fan account on the birdapp of their M&G with him (which second hand tellings should always be taken with a grain of salt) then I believe what he said was something along the lines of Dean not knowing if Angels could feel love like that. The words not wanting to put a label on it were thrown around. I'm not sure I remember 100% ( it was a crazy time) but I'm fairly certain the word "platonic" did not occur. He spoke on Dean's opinion of it (which is his right, it's his character). But the confession wasn't Dean's.

It was Castiel's. And as Misha is Castiel's actor, and has said several times that it was a LOVE confession, I'm going to assume he knows what he's talking about. Not to mention the other cast and crew who agree with that sentiment. Now, you can go a head and believe it was platonic on Dean's part, that's on you. I won't argue with you because you won't see it my way I wont see it yours. That's just how it is. But we're talking about Castiel's feelings here.

If you are among the camp who believe Cas told Dean he loves him because they were about to die, and that was the only reason, well you are kinda wrong. He knew his death would save deans life. He knew the empty wouldn't let him die until the deal was complete and he didn't want Dean to die. So he sacrificed himself. He knew what would make him happy and he did it. To save Dean. He died BECAUSE he told dean he loved him. Now, if just telling his bro "I love you bro" made him happy, then he would have been dead when he and the Empty made the deal, because he's told Sam and Dean he loves them before. Multiple times. No, this wasn't like those times at all.

Now, I don't know about you, but if I start a speech to someone with "The one thing I want, it's something I know I cant have." Then continue to wax poetic about how they are the most kind, loving, caring human being I have ever met and they are the only reason I care about ANYTHING and then end that speech with "I Love You.".... uh, that's not something I'm saying to a bro. That's something I'm saying to someone I am in love with.

Again, you can believe whatever you want about Dean's feelings, I'm not gonna stop you. I think you're wrong (and you obviously think I'm wrong), but I'm not going to stop you.

However, you don't get to erase how Castiel felt because you don't like it. It's funny that you use the word "validating" while ignoring the validation that scene gave thousands of other people. Believe what you want but don't belittle other people's feelings and experiences. And don't come into a discussion with a "he said/she said" account and present it as fact.

And just incase you want receipts:

"....When I experienced a moment of true happiness, the Empty would be summoned and it would take me forever.....I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be, what... what my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want... it's something I know I can't have. But I think I know... I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it......I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're... you're 'Daddy's Blunt Instrument.' And you think hate and anger, that's... that's what drives you. That's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know. You know, ever since we met and ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean .......I love you. Goodbye, Dean." - Castiel

Yeah, super platonic sounding isn't it ( that was sarcasm btw, incase you couldn't read the tone)

Anyway, I'm sorry for the long answer but this is one of those asks that just begs for a proper response. If you don't want to hear my thoughts then I suggest you stay off my blog.

I Hope you have the day you deserve. Buhbye.

[chuchiotaku]

There and Back Again

(Or why I started this Tumblr)

Harry Potter was released when I was in middle school, so yes, I did grow up reading the novels.  I didn’t consider myself a die-hard Potterhead but I did enjoy reading them, and I remember eagerly awaiting for the next installment all the way to the seventh book (by then, I was already in Uni).  

And while I liked the main trio well enough, Ron Weasley had always been my special favorite.  

Before you go thinking that the reason for it is because I see myself in him (like some wise ass reviewer assumed), let me say right now that Ron and I are in many ways different: he’s from a family of nine with six siblings, I’m an only child from a middle income family.  He’s in his own way charismatic and funny, I’m an introvert who prefers my own company.  

The reason why I love Ron so much changed over time.  At first, I loved his sense of humor, and the fact that his quips and comments usually have a connection to the answer behind the mystery.  Then, as the series went on, I grew to see Ron as the underdog, who still remained consistently overshadowed within his own family and by his obviously brilliant best friends, but still fights for what he feels is right and, despite his mistakes, is always there for his loved ones.

Then came the era of the movies, and my God, Kloves, what the fuck did you do to our Ronnie?

According to a video I have watched, prior to the movies’ release, Ron was a fan favorite character. But after Kloves butchered Ron’s character to near beyond recognition—giving his best lines and character traits to Hermione—he suddenly became one of the most vilified characters in fandom, sometimes even worse so than Draco Malfoy, who was an absolute prick throughout more than half of the series, and a mumbling, indecisive coward near the end of it!  

It’s so disheartening to see many fanfics about Harry and Hermione in all the interesting tropes and cookie cutter plotlines there are like time travel, Lord/Ancient and Noble Houses, AU, and all others, but not a lot about Ron.  Yes, there are a good number of awesome Ron fanfics written by brilliant and talented Ron loving writers.  Solstice Muse is a legend as a Ron fanfic writer, as well as others like  Windschild8178,  TheTrueSpartan, Demon Eyes Laharl, random-fruitcake04, and many more.  But because of the lack of time traveling, noble house dabbling, canon lore bending Ron stories, I decided to make my own.

Thus, There and Back Again (TBA) was born!

When I first started TBA, I just wanted to write out Ron becoming the time traveler for once, but in a way that I haven’t seen done (a lot) in fanficdom.  I also wanted to test the idea of Ron getting Lordship (something that is usually fandom Harry’s bag) and some allies and surprises along the way. But it was only after chapter 2, and when I saw the response the fanfic was getting, that I realized that I should plan this more seriously.  That more than me wanting to get in as much tropes as I could into Ron’s story, you guys deserve an actual plot, a reason you’d want to read through those tropes. So whenever I could, I’d sit down, reread the books, tailor my draft to the canon timeline then add my own spins and elements to make it a new experience for you.  

Further down the road, I’ve learned that me sprinkling my imagination and stretching the limits of canon lore is not for everybody.  And while I would love to explain myself and my narrative decisions, I don’t think many of you will appreciate having to read author’s notes to explain the nitty gritty that are longer than the story itself.  

For those of you who are interested in TBA’s lore and have a peek in my writer’s brain, a section of this Tumblr is for you.  If you have any questions or comments, if it’s anything new, I’ll still answer you by PM while simultaneously posting the answer here.  Then if anyone else has the same question, I’ll just point to them here if they really want to know the answer.  

(Because, seriously, I think I’ve explained “why I think a four rune layout to heat a small space is a basic technique” so many times already! You’re free to think what you will, of course, but it takes a lot of time to type the explanation over and over again.)

Lastly, updates. Frankly, I can’t commit to you a consistent timeline.  As much as I love TBA, it doesn’t put food on my table.  Not to mention the other fanfics I am writing on top of this.  And that new HP Ron and Regulus centric one in AO3 that I am still on the fence on whether or not I should continue.  But now that TBA has a beta (much gratitude to A.C.nelli for their time and effort!), it really helps motivate me to write more. So hopefully, it won’t take me years to add the next chapter again?  :D

Cheers! Chuchi

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

24. The Waiting Room

Word Count: 6043

Previous

Hazel had several things to keep her occupied in the waiting room. Grace usually kept a lot on hand, as she herself could get pretty restless at times, but right now as Hazel did everything from color with her Tuba stuffy to listening to music on headphones, Grace was online on her phone trying to ease the minds of  Loyal Apex members and Simon sympathizers. 

They lamented as there was no word about him other than the video that showed him being brutally attacked, the APB was out on the suspects and people wondered what would happen/if he would die. 

She made an announcement, “In order to try to offer a small portion of comfort to all of the people who care about Simon Laurent, what I can say is that he is currently in surgery and that I’ve contacted his father. We don’t know anything else yet, but whenever his father is here, I’ll let him decide what things should to be communicated to Simon’s fans. Please keep rumors and negativity to a minimum during these uncertain times for him and his loved ones, and simply send whatever positive thoughts and vibes in his direction.” It ignited a lot for her to be the person who made that statement. But, there was nobody else to do it.

There were a lot of people who were SO RELIEVED that Grace was there for him and felt like that meant he was safe. 

There were some who were confused about why SHE of all people would be trusted enough to be in his private space at a time like this and they hoped she had grown and wasn’t using this to get her foot back in the door. 

There were some disappointed in her for being pulled back into Simon’s toxicity and “glorifying struggle love” by supporting him after everything he’s done, wondering what type of example this was to young girls who idolized her? 

There were a lot of encouraging messages though like, “I don’t know what you must be going through right now. Sending you good energy and hopes for Simon's situation,” and so on. She made sure to like and reblog all of the ones of that nature, and decided to at least pretend to ignore the other ones, no matter whose camp they came from. 

Many separate posts were also made to show support, some saying that nobody could possibly know what Grace is thinking at this moment, since everyone reacts differently to trauma, and because of that shouldn’t be quick to judge her for being near or with Simon in his time of need. She didn’t respond to those, simply because she didn’t want to seem like she was making it about her. It wasn’t. Right now, the only thing she could think about was Simon.

It took Simon’s dad about six hours to arrive. He looked exhausted, as scary as the last time she saw him but much older. She couldn’t believe it had only been a few years because his pale blond hair had whitened and he looked more wrinkly… and like… he couldn’t be that much older than her own dad.

He talked to someone at the counter, then they took him someplace else. Grace stayed where she was. If he came in and noticed her, fine, but she wasn’t going to press him. 

Eventually, he showed up and noticed her right away. He hadn’t expected to see a little brown, blond haired girl with her. He nervously approached and said, “They uh… got some blood from me. They did need some. He’s critical…” Hazel stopped playing and looked up at the new person. “Hello,” he said, politely. 

She stared at him, collecting her things and moved closer to Grace. Grace wrapped an arm around her and said, “This is Hazel.” She wasn’t going to make her speak to him, though. Grace's parents did that to her when she was little, but it wasn’t something that she practiced as a parent. Hazel wasn’t comfortable and making her speak wasn’t going to make her more comfortable or build on her trust in Grace as support.

He sat on the other side of Grace. “Is she…?” Grace and Hazel stared at him, awaiting his question. He leaned closer to Grace to whisper and she tensed up at his closeness. “Simon’s?” 

“WHAT?” Hazel called out. “GROSS!” 

Now Grace said, “Hazel… A little loud.”

Hazel lowered her voice and said, “Simon’s Dad, she is 22. I am 10. What do you think your son was doing 10 years ago?”

“He wouldn’t know,” Grace mumbled, then gasped and looked at him, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He looked sad. She didn't feel bad for him per se, but she didn't want to make matters worse at a time like this.

“I wouldn’t. Simon raised himself from the time he was 10, until 16, when he moved out of the house. I haven’t seen him since shortly after the last time I saw you…" he noticed Grace shiver at the mention of it, and considering the truce she requested before, he knew that it was probably a sore spot for her. He tried to think of anything that could possibly be said, but ultimately kept the subject on Simon. " I haven’t talked to him since his 18th birthday when I called to see if he wanted to have a vacation with me and his mom... He disconnected that phone line and never gave me another. Probably wouldn’t even want me here… I didn’t know that the two of you had… made up. Guess that makes sense. He was always crazy about you...”

“They didn’t make up. She’s just nice. And he wasn’t crazy about her. Just crazy.” Hazel said. Grace frowned, but only rubbed her arm in response. Hazel took a deep breath and rested her head on Grace to try to calm down. Grace tried to keep Simon talk to a minimum. It always infuriated Hazel that she couldn’t protect her against him. It didn't matter that she was too young or that they didn't know each other when Simon hurt Grace. She. Wanted. To. Protect.

“Well, your… Grace is much appreciated.” Hazel narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, and she didn't even KNOW Grace's history with this man. “I lost one child a long time ago.” Hazel’s look softened and she sat up. “I didn’t handle it well. I didn’t look after Simon the way I should’ve. I thought that he didn’t really understand enough to be as affected as he was… Really, I lost two children, and I’m here to see if I can get one of them back, before it’s too late for him too.” Hazel’s face was soft and she dropped her things to get up and hug Mr. Laurent, who cried. 

Grace didn’t want to be rude, but she gently separated them and pulled the 10 year old onto her lap. This man pulled a gun on her the last time she saw him. She wasn’t forgetting that shit, and she didn’t want him to, either. She certainly didn’t want her child bearing any of his emotional issues that HE caused himself. He didn’t LOSE two children. He lost one child, fucking turned his back on the other, and I became the only person in that boy’s life. Parents really felt entitled to do whatever shit that they wanted then expect you to just move on and forgive their asses. She couldn’t see Simon wanting this man here, either. But… that was the only family he had. Grace had felt that he deserved at least to potentially have a goodbye and give an apology to him. 

Paying for his travel and getting a temp family bnb wasn’t that much for her, considering that Simon honestly might not make it out of this. She and Hazel were along for the ride because they both knew that she wasn’t leaving her with a sitter or something and Hazel had definitely become curious about this infamous Simon (who she mostly learned about by sneaking onto the Internet) and wasn’t going to say so, but probably lowkey wouldn’t mind him dying. 

According to the Internet, he did some terrible things to her mom. She knew some of them, only the watered down and generic stuff that Grace told her in kid language. “We drifted apart, didn’t see eye to eye, hurt each other…” Those were not the kind of stuff she read that he really did to Grace. Hazel then  wrote “We HATE Simon” on several of her possessions, and she was pretty firm in that stance. But… maybe this Simon’s dad dude wasn’t so bad, she was thinking.

Grace was thinking the opposite. Simon’s dad was just as responsible for what was up with Simon as Simon was, to her. Had Simon’s dad cared this much whenever Simon’s life wasn’t in jeopardy, maybe Simon would never BE here. Maybe Simon would have been the sweet boy that showed up for her recital after her telling him about it one night. The boy who learned the bus routes to be able to see her whenever he could. The one whose gray eyes she thought she was still looking into whenever she whimpered “I love you” in his arms… She angrily wiped away a tear and Hazel suggested, “Maybe we should go now, since he’s made it here.”

Grace realized that she was crying and strummed Hazel’s hair. “Yeah. I’m sure Mr. Laurent will call us if he needs something. We should get settled in for the night. I can bring your stuff to the bnb for you.” 

He shook his head, “It’s in the rental car.” She simply nodded as she started picking up Hazel’s things. “Grace… Thank you.” She had a lot of things she thought to say. 

Don’t thank me. This was so fucking stupid of me. Thank you? No, fuck you. You’re the reason he had no self control! I was too young to be trying to fill in YOUR space, your HOLE in his life, in his very formation! How dare you thank me! Thank me for what? For trying to look after him when we were a month apart in age? For lending him all of my resources, my family and my HEART - only to have him never be able to appreciate any of it, because why would he? Who taught him to appreciate? Who taught him to love? Not the man that ditched him with a horribly inept mother who had already dropped the ball and a kid DIED in the process! He RAISED HIMSELF, from the time he was 10!!! You. Fucking. Degenerate! 

“No problem,” she said softly. “Simon was my best friend, once. Times like these, you try to forget the ugly parts and just do your best with what’s left.” More of her peacekeeper mumbo jumbo. It never felt so fake to say things like that before,

Once at the bnb, she and Hazel got washed up and dressed for the evening. Her parents came in about an hour afterwards, both irritated that she hadn’t told them sooner, but concerned about her and about Hazel. Hazel was asleep and Mr. Laurent hadn’t come to the bnb, so Grace headed back to the hospital. She saw him, staring straight ahead, looking wan and miserable. She took a deep breath and moved forward. “You never came to the place. I purposefully found a big spot to accommodate all of us. My parents are there with Hazel. You should go get washed up and eat, at least. Nothing you can do from this waiting room. I’ll sit here in case anything happens and call you when and if it does.”

“I don’t think I’m capable of driving at the moment. I’ll just stay.” 

Grace frowned and sat beside him. “Why didn’t you stay back then?” Hazel wasn’t here now, she could be real. “Simon needed you so much. You just ignored him. You left him with a woman that you had to have known hated him. Simon went all over the world with my family, and nobody ever called in to check on him or spoke with my parents for more than two minutes to approve that he could come along… but tonight… you can’t even get up to go take a piss? Now, when he doesn’t need you, you’re here and won’t leave? What about when he was 10, being bullied and beaten up and ran into a school auditorium to escape it for a few minutes? Why weren’t you willing to be there for him, then?” 

Tears were pouring down the man’s face. Aside from that, there was no reaction there. Simon cried in a similar way. That 'suffering in silence' that broke her heart every time. It wasn’t breaking her heart to see it from the older Laurent. “That’s not a rhetorical question. Where the fuck were you when Simon needed you, instead of me? Where were you when he was latching on to me and building this tether between us that even right now when I should be thinking about anything else, everything else, I’m here, for him, to see that he’s okay? Because I don’t know how to detach myself from everything we went through together, despite every fucking thing he’s done to me! Where the fuck were you?!?”

“I was broken. My family was broken. None of us were dealing with anything very well. I thought of all of us, Simon handled it the best. He cried a lot the first few days, but after that, he’d just read and write and do school and art stuff. It was like he had gotten over it. I didn’t want to put the grief back onto him. I tried to stay away from him, and it just became a bigger space over time and then, there was nothing between us.”

“Look. None of that explains to me why you weren’t the adult and didn't look after a kid who went through the most traumatic thing that he’s ever gone through. You were supposed to see him through it. Not… presume he’s okay because he wasn’t crying. You were supposed to make sure that he felt loved and supported. You were supposed to be willing to sacrifice for him. You didn’t and now you feel guilty. I get it.”

“You feel guilty too?”

“No. I don’t. I never did anything to hurt Simon, but he did everything to hurt me. I don’t just leave people because they did something, or because I’m feeling broken or because they seem fine. I’m there for people that I care about. I said I get it. I have empathy for you. I can’t relate. Because, I would never treat anyone the way you treated Simon, especially not my child!”

“The garage… That wasn’t you, was it? It was Simon. He was jealous and angry and finally had enough…”

“I’m not going to sit here and fill in any blanks for you. What I can say about that is that I had no idea what you were talking about when you pulled a gun on a 16 year old girl because of some photos that got knocked down.” Her eyes were filled with fury, though her face was tired. "Then you hug my daughter and speak to her like you see her value, when you would have threatened her life just as casually given the right circumstances for somebody like you. I've been thinking that if you were there for Simon he'd have been better. Maybe none of you are worth shit. People who hurt and threaten kids, blame them for their problems. Scar them for life…" She sighed, “Please, just go get some rest. It’s my shift, now. Someone he at least trusted at some point.” 

He got up and left. Probably couldn’t take more of her harsh words. She felt better having let them off of her chest though. Her father had wanted to hire some gangsters to beat him senseless. Whenever the man did get beaten up by a group of robbers, Grace had always wondered if her dad made good on that. She never asked, though the Laurents didn't live in the safest neighborhood, so it was feasible that it had been a coincidence. She brought him here to make sure that Simon wasn’t alone. That didn’t mean she had to hold all of these things back that she was finally brave enough to dare ask.

.

For several days, they took turns, waiting. Simon was in intensive care and non responsive. They were allowed to visit, one at a time and for short increments. Grace was at his bedside, furious with herself that she was there, but looking at him, seemingly resting peacefully, half of his head shaved for surgery, bruises, bandages… tattoos galore… She held his hand as she tried to see his tattoos, but the robe made it difficult. When her cycle was up, she wondered, “Hey… do you know what his tattoos are of?” to one of the staff.

“Are you Grace?” They asked. She figured for security/visiting purposes. 

“Yeah.”

“They’re umm… about you.”

“What do you mean? Like there’s an image of me?” 

“No. The images are weird, but the words are all about you. The front and back sides.”

She didn’t know what that meant, but her turn was up and Mr. Laurent was impatiently trying to get into the area. 

That’s who was with him whenever he woke up, in the private room that he had been moved to whenever he became more stable. Everyone was at the hospital at that time. Grace’s parents brought Hazel as soon as they found out that Simon was awake. He had to be seen by the doctor first and foremost, before anyone else was able to enter, so they were waiting. Grace was pacing outside of the door whenever the doctor came out and Simon and she locked eyes whenever this happened. He looked extremely surprised to see her again and she looked relieved? He was so confused. Why was she relieved? Why was she even here? In fact… why the fuck was his dad here? He looked over at him after the door shut and asked. “Who got you here?”

His father pointed towards the door and said, “Your friend, Grace. She’s outside waiting to hear how you are.”

Simon’s heart sped up and he had to lie back for a moment. “That doesn’t make any sense. Last time I saw Grace, she told me to fuck off and get some help. I didn’t get help and I almost got myself killed. What, is she here to make sure that I died?”

“She’s very concerned. She’s been here everyday. She was the first one here, and sometimes the last one to leave. She flew me out here and let me stay in one of those rental homes with her and her family. Her parents were here so that her daughter wouldn’t be stuck in a waiting room for hours and hours.”

“Grace and her family have been here?” Simon asked, disgusted, mostly with himself. He had betrayed all of them and their reasons for being there didn't matter. He needed someone… and Grace and her family were there.. He turned to look out of the window and sighed. “She made her kid come, just to see about me?”

“Hazel. She’s a really sweet girl. She drew me some cheer up cards…” Simon scoffed. “She reminds me of you.”

“Is that so?” Simon asked, yawning. Damn, that hurt. Doctor said he’d been stabbed 8 times, and that was after being hit with that board and kicked in the head, neck and ribs. 

“She’s artistic and likes robots... has a thing for turtles... that’s not like you, but also, whenever I saw her, I thought that maybe she was-”

“Why am I alive?” Simon groaned.

“Whenever you were attacked, some of your internet friends wanted to raise blood for you. Grace was the only one who knew your blood type, so she let them know and they’d go to blood centers to donate in your name… Plus, she got me here, knowing we have the same blood type, and well… She’s just been… She’s been a real lifesaver. Literally. I wouldn’t have even known where you were and I certainly couldn’t have got here on my own. She’s a really special young lady… and I… Simon… The doctor told me about your tattoos.” Simon looked at his father for the first time since he first woke up. “The things you did to her…” 

Simon grumbled as he pulled himself to sit up and look at his father, challengingly. “What about them, Dad?”

“Grace had some questions for me, some comments, some things to make me think and, I can’t help but feel like maybe if I had been better to you, a better father, that you wouldn’t have turned out to be…”

“To be what?” Simon asked, a slight smirk on his mouth, intense hatred in his eyes. “A monster? A criminal? An abuser? A heartless piece of shit?”

“To be in so much pain…” Mr. Laurent said. Simon’s smirk vanished. His father stood too close to his bed and looked too sad. Simon wasn’t sure what to do with that. “It was bad enough that you couldn’t work through what you did to Hope, but we didn’t even help you to work through how we were handling it. You needed us and we weren’t there for you. We let you fend for yourself and you got everything so wrong. We got everything wrong. We should have taken care of you. We should have kept loving you."

Simon flung his head back towards the window, a tear rolled onto his pillow. “Yeah, probably. But, it's done, now."

"We can always try again…" 

Simon furrowed his eyebrows and cut off whatever suggestions his father had to ask, "Is Grace planning to come talk to me? If I have to face her, I'd like to be prepared."

"I think she will. She's been asking about the tattoos…"

"Well, send her in so that I can get it over with and she can take her kid and go back to her good life."

"I'll tell her…" Whenever his father left Simon tried to fix his hair and wipe his eyes. He had no idea what he must look like, but he knew it was bad… 

Grace came into the room and smiled a small, cordial, obligatory smile. "Hey."

"He told me everything that you did. I'll pay you back for that." 

She frowned and came closer. "I'm not pressed for money, Simon. How are you feeling?"

"Like I should be dead, but SOMEBODY got in the way," he teased.

"If dying was what you wanted to do, you should've told me," she said and shrugged her shoulders. He let out a one syllable laugh. Grace leaned on the bed and touched his hand. His fingers were trembling. "I still would’ve done the same thing, though.”

“Why did you?” Simon asked, staring at her. 

She took a deep breath, “I don’t know.” They were silent for a moment. He stared out of the window, disappointed that it wasn’t a sign that she still cared… That it isn’t because she loves him… But, he knows that’s his fault. He had her love once and he destroyed that. “If I had to guess…” He turned to look at her again, hopeful. “I think it’s because no matter what you say and no matter what you did, I saw somebody that I thought I would know forever being harmed. I saw that nobody was doing anything useful to help. I didn’t know if you were going to make it and I wondered, if it were me… Would everybody just stand by and watch? Cry and complain over the Internet, while I died somewhere alone? Maybe that’s not terrifying for you, but dying alone sounds miserable to me, and I’m not the kind of person who could just want the worst for somebody I used to love, even though you hurt me.” 

“Thank you.” It wasn’t something that he said a lot. She didn’t even know what he was thanking her for. Being there? Answering truthfully? “Are you going to leave, now?” The thought of her leaving made tears well up in his eyes. She knew that they were real so she knew that he didn’t want her to leave, but also… Wasn’t her business here done? He didn’t die alone, and she had a life to get back to. This might do nothing for his fear of abandonment, though. 

“I might be able to stay a little while longer. Let me just check on Hazel.”

“The doctor said that 3 people can come in at a time, if you want to bring her in?”

“Ohhh… Well… She’s 10 and knows how to use the Internet, so… she knows things about you… and me…”

“Yikes. Sounds like there’s justice on the menu for me today. Bring her in.”

He was ill and weak, so Grace figured that this was the best time for him to see Hazel, if ever. He wasn’t going to have one of his tantrums in his condition, and Hazel actually was quite interested in knowing him after having learned more about his childhood from pestering Mr. Laurent every minute that he was around. The man said he didn’t mind, He liked talking about his children and he hadn’t been around kids in a long time.

“Hazel, I know that you and Mr. Laurent are having a lot of fun, but do you wanna meet my friend, Simon?”

“You’re friends again?” Hazel asked. Grace stammered, but Hazel cut her off, “Nevermind. Yes. I have something for him.” She reached into her Tuba tote bag as she walked past Grace into the room. Simon offered a smile to her. It was kind and warm. Grace noted that he looked almost innocent. His gray eyes even twinkled a bit. “Mr. Laurent, I’m Hazel Monroe. I’m meeting you.” She extended her hand to shake his.  Simon shook her hand, not missing the fact that she didn't say "nice to meet you" or something friendly, then she handed over what she had removed from her bag. It was a copy of the first Book of Esmoroth. “I’ve made notes everywhere that I thought you went wrong.” 

He opened the book and froze at the amount of various colored post its and notes in the margins. The book was filled with them and almost looked like a scrapbook with the bulkiness of it all. “That’s a lot of notes.”

“There was a lot wrong with it,” she quickly replied, matter of factly.

He laughed so hard that he hurt himself. Grace collected Hazel into a hug, worried, because Simon never laughed at criticism. Even her own would make him at least sulk. He was holding himself and trying to catch his breath.

Hazel added, “Overall, I enjoyed the book very much when I was 6… was your target audience 6 year olds?” He shook his head and wiped his eyes. “I didn’t think so. It’s still okay at my age, I guess. But, you’ll really have to step it up if you plan on being a good author someday.”

“I’ll keep these things in mind if they ever let me publish the other two.”

Hazel gasped and climbed onto his bed, “There’s two more?” She asked. “Does one center around the Idol Princess? Because, I know she’s supposed to be bad, but I actually really love her.” 

Simon looked nervous about that. “Uh… yeah… Book 2 is all about her… but she isn’t in Book 3.” 

Hazel gasped, “Did you kill her?” He nodded. She shook her head and climbed off of the bed. “You are a worse person than I thought.” She was ready to storm out of the room.

“I’m thinking of a rewrite!” Simon said, suddenly extremely interested in not disappointing her. She paused. “One where the Idol Princess has a power that no one could have expected inside of her. She rises from death and rebuilds herself as a True Queen…”

“Will she get to be a hero?”

Simon wiped his eye again, the tear provoked by a different emotion, this time. “She always was.”

“The Future King just didn’t know it. See…” Hazel turned around and returned to the bed, pointing at the book, “That’s in my notes. The Future King has a TERRIBLE habit of thinking things that just don’t make sense! I even wondered if the Idol Princess really WAS a bad person, or if that was just how he saw her, or just bad writing on YOUR part, because we couldn’t tell what was his mind or the narrator’s. Because she did a lot of nice things, but then again, a lot of those were for selfish reasons, so…”

“Hazel, why don’t you gather up your stuff, so we can let Simon get some rest?” Grace asked.

“She’s no bother. I’ve been unconscious long enough and I honestly never meet anybody passionate enough about my book for this type of dialogue.”

“It’s bothering me,” Grace admitted. 

Hazel said, “Sorry…”

“Not you, Hazel. Just… this story. I don’t think I like it.”

Hazel gasped and she covered her neck with both hands, her sleeves fell and Simon noticed that she was wearing his charm bracelet. He felt… a lot of pain. Not the injury kind, but... he thought that was likely in the trash and not only was it not, but the most important person in Grace’s world had it now. Hazel asked, “Are you the Idol Princess?”

“I think I am,” Grace said, glaring at Simon.

“I was different, then. When the story started, we were 12. By the time I finished it… we were 16… I edited it and probably made her a little more deviant than was fair."

Hazel smiled at Grace, "I still liked her. Maybe I could see she was like you. Some problems, but really a good person." Grace smiled back. 

"Please… I won't talk about it. Can you stay? Just a little longer? I…" Simon looked at his fingernails, which were grown out a little longer than his manicurist generally trimmed them to. "I just don't want to be alone… and you're the only person I…" he wanted to say "know," but he really didn't know this Grace, if he even had ever known Grace at all. Grace lifted his chin with her hand to make him look at her. "You're the only person that's ever known me." He finally said, his gray eyes pleading for her not to leave him.

Hazel's eyes clouded over, "You've gotta stay, now. Look at him. Look at how sad this boy is…" Grace sighed. "I'll keep Mr. Laurent company until GlamMother and Grandest get back. You make him less sad. You can do it." Grace propped the door open, just out of paranoia. Hazel said Mr. Laurent was "her friend," but Grace still didn't like or trust him and her parents seemed to have wandered off or left.

"I can stay a little while longer," she firmly declared. Simon sighed with relief… and pain. He was in a lot of pain, but he managed a smile. "Soooo… the tattoos…" The smile was plastered on his face, but he turned red at the mention of this. "I heard there's an apology for me in there somewhere." 

He groaned to shift, despite her disapproval and attempts to stop him, and he managed to get the robe off of himself. There was something like a story book page there. She was shocked, to say the least. Tiny green script, interrupted here and there by an image - her hope chest, her silhouette, a crying brown eye, a shadowy monster… the words - apologies for everything he had ever done to hurt her, etched in ink on his skin..

"Official confession on my back, but I can't move enough to show you, or I'll definitely reinjure myself."

"Please don't!" She traced her finger over the words as she read them in full. Then, she didn't know WHAT to think. She just started crying. He reflexively reached for her and soon, they were both crying and holding on to each other. It was painful. He was physically in agony, but at the moment, holding Grace mattered more. He'd missed her and he was… just so sorry…

"I know that you'll probably never forgive me. I didn't even think we'd ever speak again. I just wanted to make sure that when I died, I'd have done that one good thing for you…"

“You’ve done plenty of good things Simon. And you haven’t died yet, so you’ve got time to do plenty more.”

“I’m gonna start by clearing your name and accepting my fate. You deserve that much, and that kid deserves for her mom to have a clean slate. She seems really cool. I can see why you fell in love with her.”

Grace didn’t know how to take what Simon was saying. He had said things before and didn’t mean them. Time could only tell if he was being serious or delirious from an extreme pain and highly medicated state. "I was interacting with your fans while you were down, and they might have a literal earth shattering crisis if you say this right now. There's no way they'll believe that I didn't come in here to manipulate and gaslight you into saying it…" He let go of her and frowned. "I'm only partially joking. Say whatever you think you need to. Far be it from me to stop my name from being cleared."

"The fact that I took it so far…" he shook his head, "I have to be just as passionate, if not more for clearing your name as I was in soiling it. I have to be a zealot."

"Wanna start with a hospital selfie?" She asked, pulling out her phone. He couldn't help but smile. It felt like… old times.. not exactly, because he was ripe with injury and riddled with guilt. But next to him was the prettiest girl in the world… and she seemed fine with being there. She tried taking a few then handed it to him because even injured, he probably could take a better one. The one that he liked the best was one where they both weren’t smiling too big, just settled, comfortable, if only for one moment, and seemingly content.

Simon borrowed her phone to both reactivate his social media sites, link everything possible, and to make an announcement of official apology, confession, and gratitude for Grace. With a very minimal update about his current condition. "That's a start, I guess." He said, logging out to give her back her phone. 

As Grace figured, there were a lot of people who were suspicious that she had somehow harmed him or coerced the words out of him, but as she slipped back into her life in New York with Hazel and out of Simon's life in recovery at his dad's place, she felt new air in her lungs and a new leaf being turned over. Speaking of, she took the one out of Hazel's hair.. "Hey! What's the deal?"

She snatched one from a bush outside of the hospital and replaced it. Putting the old one into her wallet. "Simon finally told everyone the truth about me. I know that I've said it didn't matter, and honestly, to a certain extent, it didn't… but I like my name being associated with what I've chosen to associate it with."

"Do you think it means that he's changed?" 

Grace tilted her head, "I think that it means that he's at least trying to."

"He didn't seem like that bad of a person. Just sad. Really, really sad. Maybe changing can make him a happier person."

"Maybe." That wasn't Grace's concern anymore, and she felt better than she could ever remember feeling with that certainty. Simon and I have settled everything now. Nothing hangs over my head.

Next

[readbeneaththelines]

His Possession Pt.2

A/N: Debts are collected, one way or the other. Unfortunately, you were the collection for your father’s debt.

Yoongi is ruthless, cunning, and obsessive.

Characters: Yoongi x Reader

Warnings’ violence, language

this chapter has an extra warning: Attempted rape. please proceed at your own discretion. If this is a trigger, PLEASE DO NOT READ!

Word Count: 4654

This is NSFW, PLEASE READ WITH DISCRETION.

credit to the owner of the gif! *thank you for this one whoever you are!!*

Your head was throbbing, your chest ached, and your mouth was dry. You could feel yourself being in motion. Blinking your eyes slowly, you prayed it was only a dream, but when the faces of those men came into view, you knew it wasn't. Your stomach churned and wretched, making you puke all over Jin's lap. "What the hell?" He growled, the back of his hand landing square across your cheek. There was a sharp sting, then the feeling of something wet and warm trickling down your face. 

Someone in the front of the vehicle called out over his shoulder, turning to look at you. "Can't you keep her under control?" 

"Tae, turn your face around before I make it turn around." The younger man just laughed and faced forward. 

Tears were already flowing again as you recalled the events that had, just moments ago, transpired. You were now alone, both your parents murdered by the men that now had you hostage. "Damn, woman, shut up already" a second voice yelled at you. 

Here your were, surrounded by six men who could do anything they wished to you, and you had no idea what your fate held for you. Your death could be waiting for you at the next destination, for all you knew, and the thought terrified you. No one would know what happened to you, your body never to be found. 

"What the hell? You puked all over my pants! If I weren't directed to take you back alive" Jin's words trailed off as a man in the driver seat hit the breaks. He slowly turned around, a menacing grimace on his face. "Don't say another word Jin, are we clear?" Jin swallowed hard, apparently a bit wary of the other person.  "Yes, we're clear." 

Giving you a death glare, Jin faced forward, not looking back in your direction. The rest of the ride was made in eerie silence, which terrifies you more than being yelled at. After what seemed like an eternity, the van finally turned left into a well hidden driveway. A few more minutes you were at an elaborate gate which quietly opened. The driveway was lined by tall thin bushes on both sides, shadowing any vehicle from sunlight. Everything suddenly opened up to reveal an enormous estate, the mansion almost double the size of that which you grew up in. A well manicured lawn stretched beyond what the eyes could see, a tranquil lake just past. Under any other circumstances you would probably consider it beautiful, almost fairytale to be exact. But right now, it was a prison, better yet, a possible death trap. The van pulled up to the front doors, between an intricately decorated fountain and several tall pillars. 

"Get her out and take her to the basement" came a voice from the front passenger seat. Immediately, two hands grabbed your upper arms and pulled you from your seat.

The sunlight was blinding after being in the dark interior of the van. You squint your eyes against the intrusion, before you were blindly stumbling forward from one of the men pushing you into motion.  

"년 (nyeon)! Your going to need a lesson in following orders!" came from behind you. Stopping in your tracks, you struggled to twist around in the hold you were in. Spinning your head around, you glared at yet another of the assholes that had turned your world upside down.

"Fuck off, 놈 (nom)!" you spat in his face, a stream of your saliva clinging to his cheek. His hand raised, your eyes never leaving his, you watching it comes towards your face in your periphery. 

"Hoseok! Don't!" The blonde driver of the van hollered as he caught Hoseok's wrist mid swing. A short smile spread across his face as he lowered his hand. "I know Joon, untouched and unharmed. But this little bitch has some nerves." Joon glanced at you, sizing you up before laughing. "Big surprises come in small packages." 

Leading you on, four of the men turned down a hallway to the right, while Hoseok and Tae led you down to the basement. It didn't appear to look like any usual basement. It was decorated with the finest furniture, plush white carpet, and paintings that belonged in the Musée du Louvre. The walls were covered in embossed white coverings; the light fixtures, a brilliant shimmering gold.

"Sit" Tae ordered, but you refused to move. Looking up at his face, you took a steadying breath and replied. "I prefer to stand." Without warning, you were forcefully shoved into an overstuffed black chair. "I said sit" he growled before walking away and closing the heavy doors behind him.

Hoseok took a seat across from you, his grin still plastered on his face. "What are you looking at?" you questioned with sarcasm dripping from your tongue. "My next distraction, by the looks of it." He rose to his feet, making the short distance in two long strides. Leaning over, he placed a hand on either side of your head and bent down. Hot breath fanned over you as he nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent. "Mmmm, you smell delicious" he murmured amongst your flesh. As you went to push him off, he grabbed your hands and pinned you back into the cushions. "Oh no, little girl, I told you I was going to teach you a lesson about following orders." 

You felt his knee wedge between your legs, forcing them apart. Closing your eyes, you screamed out "get off of me, you sick bastard!" Suddenly there was nothing. The weight of Hoseok's body was gone and there was an eerily calm voice. Your eyes flew open, catching sight of a silvery-white haired man, not much older than yourself, holding your attacker by the throat. He was dressed in a well tailored black suit with a royal purple dress shirt that fit like a glove. He carried an air of authority that was undeniable.

"I told you, unharmed and untouched. What part of untouched did you not understand? Do I need to make it abundantly clear to you what I meant?" He appeared calm and collected, but his eyes told a different story. They were dark and foreboding. Devoid of any emotion.

"No sir, boss. I understand." Hoseok's voice was hoarse from the pressure his boss was applying to his throat. You could see the evident fear in his eyes. 

Pushing the offender away, his eyes turned to you. Without looking away, he ordered Hoseok to leave. "No one comes in, am I understood?" With a quick yes in response, the two of you were now left alone.

"I apologize for my men's behavior. I can see, though, why they would be tempted to disobey my orders." He lowered himself onto the smaller couch, crossing his legs as he leaned back. 

Silence stretched between you, your eyes filling with tears as he watched you. "Why am I here?" you choked out, tears streaming down your cheeks and soft sobs shaking your body.

"You're my payment for an old debt. Your family owed my family quite an extensive amount of money. Money that helped your father get his start. He never repaid, even after he was warned multiple times. From what I hear, you have a bit of the same stubbornness in you too."

"My father owed no one. He had no debt. Even if he did, why? Why did you have to kill him? And my mother too? What did she do to deserve the same fate?" By now, your sobs had grown louder, and your makeup was streaking your cheeks with dark lines. 

"She had more to do with it than you thought. You are too sheltered little princess, a mistake your father made when raising you."

"He did not shelter me! My father loved me, but I can handle my own!" For the second time, you were spitting in another man's face, rising to your feet. Your emotions were a mixture of fear, anger, and defiance. To hell with him, calling you princess and sheltered. He knew nothing about you.

Wiping your spit from his face in a nonchalant manner, he sat upright. "Little girl, sit down before you do something you might regret." He never raised his voice or got up from his seat. Instead, he laced his fingers together and leaned forward, placing his elbows on either knee. " I'm only telling you once, little girl. After that, what you get will be what you deserve." 

Something in the way he spoke had you taking a step back and sitting down without hesitation.

"Smart girl. Maybe daddy did raised you with some manners after all. Now allow me to introduce myself. My name is Yoongi, Min Yoongi. The reason you are here is simple, you're my possession now. I own you, and your family's debt is paid in full. I suggest you tamper that stubborn streak in you, or else you will have a very harsh, and very painful life here. What happens to you is dependent on you. Do you understand?"

"So, I'm your slave? Like in, a sex slave? Your little pet to treat as you wish? Oh, I see, and my answer is no." By this time you had stopped crying, your anger growing as you thought about what he was suggesting. Leaning forward, your nose was mere inches from his.

"I do not agree and I will not be your slave. I would rather die and join my parents than ever be on the same ground as you. Do you understand?" You held his gaze intently, not backing away and hopefully not showing any fear.

"Well then, princess, it's going to be fun breaking that wild, untamed, spirit of yours." He sat up again, smiling at you before getting up from his seat. Without another word, he left you sitting alone, the sound of a lock turning echoed through the room.

You remained sitting for a few minutes, anticipating the return of somebody, anybody. When it was apparent you were stuck in the room, you began looking around some more. Getting up, you walked along the wall, taking time to study each piece of artwork in great detail. Might of them, you had only seen in magazines or galleries. He had put a fortune into these, not to mention the furniture and light fixtures. Ebony black couches and chairs were in stay contrast to the crisp white plush carpet. Side tables were carved into mythical creatures, crystal glass topping them. Every light, from the huge chandelier to the tiny nightlights, was pure gold. 

You finished your mini tour, making your way back to the couch, and sat back down. It has been over an hour and no one had returned to check on you. Pushing caution to the back of your mind, you decided to try the door. Sweeping your eyes across the room, you headed for the door, taking the handles in your hand. Placing your free hand on the door on the right, you swiveled the handle to test the lock of the left door. 

"Where do you think you're going, princess?" You stumbled backwards as the door opened with a rush. Yoongi reached for your hand, successfully stopping you from hitting the floor. Before you knew what happened, you were in his arms as he steadied you.

"Get your hands off of me!" You pushed against his chest, nearly tripping as you moved away from him. 

Yoongi raised his hands in mock surrender, a crooked smirk on his face. "You need to be more careful next time. Don't want my princess getting hurt." Your head snapped up, a shocked look causing him to laugh out loud.

"I am not your princess, you-you, delusional psycho!" Every step he took forward, you mirrored backwards, your hands reaching blindly behind you in search of something that would be in your way.

"Oh, but you are. I own you. You're the debt's payment."

"But you didn't have to kill my parents you piece of shit! They were all I have, and you took it all away!" You were angry at yourself for letting your tears flow so freely for him to see. Any attempt to give a semblance of bravery was being betrayed by your wet cheeks and red puffy eyes. 

Yoongi stopped walking, which made you freeze mid-step. " Everything you had, everything your father had, was started by my father. They had an agreement, that was not fulfilled by your father. I promised my dad to collect what was owed him."

Yoongi turned his back to you, and in a moment of stupidity you went for him. Both of your hands flying for him, hitting their targets with precision. One punch connected with his jaw, making his head snap to the right. 

His fingers wrapped around your wrists, forcing you to the ground with very little effort. The pain radiated up your arms, his grip tightening every time you tried to jerk away. He squatted down, face to face with you. Putting both your wrists into one of his hands, he lifted your chin with the free one.

"That, that was a very dangerous mistake you just made. I have tried to be nice, keep myself calm, while in your presence. I will not be so kind from now on. I want to make one thing very clear to you." He took your chin in his hand harshly, making you look up at him.

"I will break you, destroy that fire you think you have, and you will be nothing when I am done with you. Mark my words, little girl, you are going to regret what you just did."

The only thing you regretted was that you didn't do more damage than the red mark you left on his jaw.

Using one hand to lift you by your arms, he jerked you to your feet. He drug you to the door, swinging it open before pushing you through the threshold. Taking a hold of the back of your neck, he guided you down a long corridor before shoving you into a small room. This room was a stark contrast to where you just were. There was a small single bed, flat white walls, and nothing else. 

"Welcome to your new home, princess." He leaned against the door frame, blocking your only exit. 

"What? Where's the bathroom? A sink?" You couldn't believe he would leave you with nothing but a bed.  “You can’t be serious! I need a bathroom, at least. You can’t really mean to have me use the bathroom in here, on the floor?” you stared at Yoongi in disbelief.

“That’s exactly what I intend for you. You can either hold it until the morning, or find a spot and squat.” With that, he closed the door, locking it on the outside with a key. You fell atop the flimsy mattress, your head falling into your hands. You let every pent up emotion pour out. You screamed, cried, hit the walls and door until you collapsed on the floor. Crawling to the bed, you curled into yourself, your arms hugging your legs to your chest as you fell asleep. 

The bed dipped beside you and you stirred from a fitful slumber. You remembered you were alone,as fear filled your being when you felt a hand touch your hair. Just as you were about to scream, a strong hand covered your mouth quickly. Whoever it was, he was strong, and you couldn’t free yourself from underneath the weight of his body that straddled your waist. 

“I owe you a lesson,you little bitch. Now it seems though, that I owe you two after the events from the sitting lounge. Now be a good girl and keep you mouth shut, or else it won’t be very pretty.” With one hand still over your mouth, he began pulling at the hem of your shirt, lifting it to expose your stomach, then chest. “Nice and perky, still unmarred by age.” he hummed, running his rough hand along your bared flesh. Your muffled screams were drowned out by the sounds of his voice. “ You going to be a good girl and take your lesson like an obedient little whore. Remember I can’t harm you in any way, but he doesn’t need to know if you’ve been touched. Your owner is sleeping, he can’t protect you now.”

You continued to fight, trying anything to get him off of you. Compared to him, your efforts were useless. You could hear the clinking of a belt buckle being undone. Thinking fast, you opened your mouth just enough for one of his fingers to slip in. With everything you had, you bit down, hard. Jerking his hand away, you now had the opportunity to scream at the top of your lungs, praying that someone would hear you. 

“Get the fuck off of me, bastard! Someone! Please, help me!” Before you can say anything else, Hoseok had his full weight on you, nearly suffocating you. You heard a rush of air before you felt the sting. The back of his hand slapped your cheek, the instantaneous warmth of blood coming to the surface. 

“Shit! See what you made me do!” Hoseok was even more angry, hurriedly trying to undress both you and himself while you struggled. 

There was a resounding crash, then a bright light flooding the room. “Jung Hoseok!” a vaguely familiar voice called out. The audible click of a gun being cocked filled the suddenly silent room. Hoseok was still, his legs still straddling your waist. He had his pants undone, and your shirt was up, exposing you barely covered breasts. A shadow crossed the room until the tall figure was hovering over you and Hoseok.

“Boss, I can explain. I was only going to roughen her up a bit. Scare her a bit after earlier.” Hoseok smiled up at Yoongi, who did not look one bit amused by Hoseok’s explanation. In Yoongi’s hand was a loaded gun, which was now pointed at Hoseok’s temple. Yoongi’s eyes traveled to you, widening when he saw the still bleeding gash across your cheek. Hoseok scrambles as fast as he could off of you, fixing his pants as he stood. Yoongi’s gun never left his temple. You quickly scooted back, trying to mold your body into the corner until you disappeared.

“Hoseok, When I asked you earlier if I had made myself clear on the unharmed and untouched part, you told me yes. But here we are, and there she is, touched and harmed by one of my own men. Can you tell me what exactly you thought you were going to do to her? You touched something that is mine, without my permission, twice now I might add.” Yoongi looked down at you, shaking, bleeding and frightened. “Hoseok, I am going to give you a five second headstart before I pull this trigger. You had better hope it misses it mark. Five. Four…” Hoseok bolted out of the room before Yoongi said four, and you were now alone with Yoongi. He lowered the gun, placing it in his back pocket. He didn’t move, but watched you for a moment.

“I am sorry for his behavior earlier and this evening. Hoseok has a bit of a, shall we say, hunger, that is insatiable when it comes to pretty women. He will be dealt with accordingly.” Taking a cautious step towards you, Yoongi bent down and turned your head to the side. You winced at the movement and Yoongi let go of your face. He rose and left without a word, Leaving you still in a ball in the corner. 

A moment later, he had returned, carrying a first aid kit and a change of clothes. “Put these on” he said as he tossed the clothes at you. Turning his back to you, you quickly changed, putting on the offered shirt and pyjama pants. Clearing your throat as a sign you were done, he turned back around. He sat down in front of you, opening the kit and laying everything he needed out on the bed. “Don’t move so we can make this quick. After I get you cleaned up, if you need to, I  will allow you a small bathroom break. But then you’re back in here, understand?’  You nodded curtly, tilting your head so he could see your wound better. In a matter of minutes your cheek was cleaned and covered, Yoongi studying his impromptu doctoring with a pleasing look on his face. He cleaned everything up, then headed for the door. “Are you coming or not?” You hurriedly got to your feet and followed him out. A few turns and you were led into a small bathroom with nothing but a stand up shower, a sink, and a toilet. You used the bathroom, then rinsed your face with cool water from the sink. Opening the door, you found Yoongi propped against the wall, eyes closed. 

“Thank you.” you whispered softly, his eyes flying open at your voice. “You’re welcome.” He took you by the wrist and began making his way back to your small room. “Please, don’t leave me in here.” you pleaded. Yoongi simply turned and left without a word, once again locking the door behind him. 

You heard his footfalls going up the stairs, then his voice bouncing off the walls as he called for Hoseok. Not long after, there was screaming, Hoseok from the sound of the voice, and a loud commotion. You were startled by the sound of gunshots, the sound bringing the events of today emerging from deep within and all you could do was rock yourself as you cried, since there was no one left to comfort you.You were just about to drift back to sleep when the sound of your door unlocking awakened you. Sitting up, you instinctively scooted back into your corner, as far away from the door as possible. Yoongi came into view, looking down at you with a grim look on his face. 

“Come with me” he stated flatly, not waiting on you to move. Making yourself respond took effort, but if you didn’t do what he said, who knew what your fate would be. You caught his shadow moving and turning up ahead. You made quick pace to catch up, following him back upstairs.

Scrambling to keep up with his long strides, you finally met up with him when you both reached the top of the second flight of stairs. He stopped, waiting for you to join him, before leading the way down a corridor that opened up into a large office like space. When you turned the corner and entered the room, you were met by six pairs of eyes looking at you. Five of the men that had, just hours earlier kidnapped you,stood in a half circle. The sixth one was sat on a chair in front of them. His face was bloodied, one eye swollen shut and already blackish purple in color. One hand was pressing to his leg, blood oozing between his fingers as it ran down his pants leg before pooling on the ground at his feet. Your audible gasp has all sets of eyes looking to you and you felt your stomach churn at the sight before you. 

“Y/N, before I decide what punishment Hoseok should be dealt, I want you to verify some information.” Yoongi came to stand beside you, his height making you feel small and even more vulnerable than before. 

“Wh-What information?” you asked cautiously, your eyes fliting between the man in the chair, those standing, and Yoongi. “I would like you to tell me exactly what happened in your room. What this man said and did to you before I came in.” Yoongi pointed at Hoseok as he spoke. “What you tell me will determine what punishment I give him. Basically, Y/N, his life is in your hands.” You looked up at Yoongi with shock covering your face. “In my hands?” you whispered, your gaze watching Hoseok out of the corner of your eye. You could tell he was already in a great amount of pain. His face grimaced with each tiny movement, his body shaking as he continued to lose blood.

“I am asking, no telling you, to tell me every detail. If you keep anything from me, I will know.” You swallowed hard, fear rising to fill you until your hands were trembling at your side. Taking a deep breath, you began to recant the events. You could feel all eyes on you,hanging on every word as though you were delivering an important speech. When you finished your side of the story, you locked eyes with the man in the chair, five sets of hands holding him down as he started to struggle against their hold. “She’s lying, Yoongi! I didn’t do those things! I was messing around with her, getting her good and scared. I was never going to do anything, I swear!” 

“Shut up!” Yoongi’s voiced echoed off the walls. The other men flinched noticeably when he yelled. “If you meant nothing, why does she have two marks on her face, when she came ib with only one? Why was her shirt pulled up and your belt undone? To scare her? Or to rape her?” In your periphery you saw Yoongi’s arm moving upwards. In his grasp was a handgun, the aim settling on Hoseok’s head. Without realizing, you were grabbing at his arm, doing your best to push it back down. You had already seen enough bloodshed today, and your mind couldn’t handle anymore. “Please” you pleaded, both of your hands wrapped around Yoongi’s wrist. “Please, no more.”

“You’re asking me to spare the life of the very man that has just attacked you?” he asked, an amused look in his eyes.

 “Yes, yes I am. If that weren’t the case, I would have to ask you to take the lives of all these men, including yourself, for what you have all put me through today.” You mustered whatever bit of bravery you had left when you looked back at him, meeting his gaze with a hopefully look. 

“You’re quite a complex young woman, Y/N. One moment your weak and scared, the next bold and daring. But you are right, we have all had a part in harming you today, though not all of us  physically. So, I’ll spare his life, for now.” Just as your grip relaxed, Yoongi quickly raised his arm, pulling the trigger that was again aimed at Hoseok. You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard the gun discharge, jumping when you heard the sickening ‘thwack’ as a bullet entered Hoseok’s shoulder. The scream reverberated through the room, the other men having to struggle to keep him still. “Get him out of here.” Yoongi ordered as he turned to face you. 

“You crazy son-of-a-bitch! Why did you shoot him?” your shaky voice straining to be heard over the commotion taking place. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t shoot him, just that you were right. I spared his life, but he had to be taught a lesson.” He shrugged his shoulders, then grabbed you by the hand and began retracing the steps you had taken to get up there. He led you back to your tiny room, guiding you inside before giving you a brief smirk. “Thank you for your help. Now better get some sleep, morning is coming and you have a busy day tomorrow.” The door locked behind you, leaving you in a dazed stance as you attempted to wrap your mind around what had just transpired. Shaking your head, you crumbled into a heap on the mattress, fatigue consumed you and you were soon asleep, nightmares keeping you in a restless place between wakefulness and sleep.

@min-shookga-yoongi @beautifulseoulliar @agustd-suga-yoongii@astronomyturtle @aspaceformyself @dreamyoongi @holy-yoongi@trashkazuya @maxinaptak @micky1518 @rosiemilas @karri570@seoulsunshineandstories @kwonnansi @iamcrazyforkdramas

@berryjam17 @xjamlessparkx

[multiverseofmiracleshq]

The Avengers held a debriefing meeting to go over Norman Osborn’s announcement about his own Avengers, X-Men and Cabal. Before they were able to find any answers, however, C.R.A.D.L.E. operatives arrived on the scene and demanded  that all underage heroes who were present be turned over.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL COMPLETE CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

CAROL: America’s Avengers — that’s what Norman had called them. Ten costumed clad heroes with masked identities, hidden from public and hidden from them. The last decade had been an opportunity for heroes to gain public trust in a way they never had before. Offering themselves, unmasked, had created a line of trust from hero to layperson. Revealing your identity opened you up to untold threats, and that was before the people you cared about were involved. Carol had never hidden her identity, she hadn’t ever really needed to. Most of her time spent was on a different planet in a separate galaxy and she didn’t have much to protect on earth. People knowing who she was just allowed her to save them in broad daylight and she never really had to think much of it. But then Osborn had stepped into the limelight and floored everyone with his own set of heroes – and Carol was hesitant to call them that. Every bit of information had been pulled on this masked heroes and the database barely offered them crumbs. Super-people running around under Osborn’s authority felt like a power grab instead of a shield, and Carol still didn’t know how to respond to it. At the helm of the table, Carol didn’t say much as people filed, filling their respective seats. She tried not to pay attention to the idle murmuring as it buzzed around her, her thoughts too easily dismantled with her current stress level. This threat was so soon after the war with the mutants and she wasn’t eager to have to face another set of supers. “I would say thank you for coming, but I know most of us don’t want to be here given the recent events. As you all know, President Norman Osborn has revealed a very unorthodox plan to completely level everything we’ve known and built. He has his own set of Avengers, his own intelligence agency, and even his own X-men. He has done this with little regard to the Avengers and the X-men already established and standing, and his dissolution of SHIELD is alarming. Unfortunately, we can only surmise as to what it is he is doing and why — and how he plans on enacting whatever that is. We’re left with more questions than answers, so if anyone has anything to offer, please feel free to share.”

SAM: He didn’t do well in cages. Never had. Sure, there was ancestral trauma that he could talk to his shrink about but the truth of the matter was that Sam Wilson didn’t do well in cages and he didn’t like being locked in. With dislikes like those his career as a pararescuemen made sense, as did the huge emphasis on the freedom that being Cap came with. That being said, he had seen his fair share of bars. There had been the literal ones of the Raft, but Osborn’s new world felt even more constricting. It was terrifying because they were supposed to believe they were free when they were anything but. Sam let Carol talk. He gave her some space while he paced in the back of the room before his arms found a home crossed over his chest. These debriefings never went well. It was like the Sokovian Accords all over again, but this time the ghosts of Tony, Nat and Steve were all too present. He kept scanning the peripheral for a glimpse of red or straining his ears for a sarcastic retort, but they were gone. Whatever was happening they’d go alone. “I think it goes without saying I may not be Norman’s biggest fan,”  Sam piped up from the back wall. “But let’s try not to look at it personally. We’ve done this song and dance before. They may have a harder time touchin’ us, but you guys?” He jutted his head at the minors. “We need to get smart and fast.”

PETER: If there was one thing that Peter valued, it was his privacy– and that was being threatened, big time. Peter glanced over to Sam’s finger as it jutted over in his general direction, the eyes of his suit widening just slightly like he had been accused of something. “I don’t have any ideas.” Yeah, that was definitely worth saying Peter. “Anyone else? Because this really sucks.”

NADIA: Ever since the Coles Incident - which is what they were calling the event where Nadia had potentially lost two of her best friends - she had been doing her best to brainstorm in moderation without  driving herself crazy. “I would say that we try to talk to them, but we did.” That whole hearing had been awful. They had asked questions that weren’t even about what happened, like they could create problems out of nowhere. “I agree with Peter. It sucks.” 10 points for the children being helpful.

IDIE: Idie sat with the other representatives of Krakoa, listening carefully to what Carol was saying. The last few weeks had all felt like a whirlwind – so much was happening so fast. Her eyes wandered round the room as Carol spoke, looking over the familiar faces and the new ones, making a note in her head that these were people she could somewhat trust in these troubled times. She didn’t trust this new world she was living in – even though the people in this room were united against one cause, it was the Krakoa mutants Idie trusted most with her life, and she hoped they trusted her. Her eyes flickered to the new Captain America – who piped up after Carol had finished speaking, and his words resonated with her. He was right. They needed to work harder and smarter than they had before. President Osborn’s new Avenger’s felt like his own personal paramilitary, and she worried how he would use his new X-Men team. “I was a child when I came to the X-Men,” Idie stood up as she spoke, taking a breath as she gathered her thoughts. “I see myself in these young heroes. While they are young, they’re also smart. They are aware of the world around them and its dangers. No one cared that I was a child when my powers mutated, all they saw was a witch who deserved to die.” There was a bitterness in Idie’s tone as she spoke. “What I’m trying to say is, these young heroes are assets, not dangers. With the right training, they can be stronger and smarter heroes. We should be giving them a chance, not turning them away.”

SUSAN: This was, unfortunately, not a new rodeo. The Fantastic Four had always been hyper visible as a group and that had bled into their private life. People who didn’t understand how they operated had tried to have say in their parenting and fighting off CPS while also trying to save the multiverse was exhausting. “Every hero needs responsibility, but I know most of you didn’t choose this. Even if you did, you’re all doing a good thing.  I know C.R.A.D.L.E.  started raids. Is there any kind of sanctuary we can make in the short term?” Susan glanced to her husband and children. “I think we need to be prepared to fight them.”

ERIK: “While I will not argue that the future of our young heroes here is important, there is more to focus on than them. They are more than used to standing up for themselves, no matter their age.” Erik figured that it was his turn to speak now, since there was much to discuss. “The group of mutants parading around under the direction of the President have broken away from the ideas we on Krakoa hold sacred. They threaten the incredible amount of work, blood, tears, and pain we have suffered through to get to where we are now.”

VALERIA: Valeria sat quietly, listening to the other heroes speak. A lot was going on in the room, and a lot of different opinions were being said – it was going to be a difficult night ahead. “My mom is right,” Valeria spoke. “We can fight as well as any of you in this room, but C.R.A.D.L.E. poses a risk to our lives. To our futures. If we are to be put in a sanctuary, we should be prepared to fight. Give us training, don’t put us in a corner and leave us be. That will only end badly.”

JEAN: The announcement of ‘America’s X-Men’ had sounded wrong from the moment she had heard it. Sitting with her son swaddled against her, Jean nodded along lightly as Erik spoke. It was strange. Her own younger self technically fell outside of the law now. “As does his Cabal. Whatever deal he and Emma made is not reflective of the Quiet Council or Krakoa. Kate,” the redhead glanced towards Pryde. “You’re Hellfire. Was that planned?” It stung, a bit. Jean and Emma had grown closer and her decision to drag Krakoa into Osborn’s circle was made without warning. Out of respect the telepath had stayed out of her mind, but the situation had become icy.

IDIE:  Idie nodded as Erik spoke. She could have laughed at the fact she found herself agreeing with Magneto of all people (perhaps Quentin had been right all these years, although she would not be admitting that to him. “For some of us, Krakoa is the only home we’ve ever known. This X-Men group threatens to take it away from us.” She glanced at Jean, an eyebrow raised at her comment. “Ms. Grey, I don’t think now is the time for fighting between us. We need to be united.”

GWEN: “I don’t even live here,” Gwen was slouched over with her head in her hands, “but they’ve made it pretty clear I’m at risk as well when I’m here.” Her identity in Earth-13130 remained a secret to the general public even though at the meeting her hood had been pulled back to rest against her neck. She didn’t just want to ignore people in trouble though if she saw them. “Val’s right. Fighting is our best option. They can’t push us around just because we’re younger.”

VALERIA: A smirk crept across Val’s face as Gwen said she was right. “We may be young but we made a commitment to be who we are, if we didn’t we wouldn’t be sitting in this room discussing it.” She rested a comforting hand on Gwen’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It’s our choice, isn’t it? We chose this life. We want to fight this, and if you put us somewhere for our own protection without giving us the tools to fight and protect ourselves, you might as well let C.R.A.D.L.E. find us, capture us, and do God only knows what to us.”

PETER: “We can fight, but what’s that really gonna do?” Peter spoke up again. “If we fight them.. isn’t that just going to make them want all of these rules even more? It’s true that we can stand up for ourselves, but I don’t know if there’s a way to actually get them to stop.”

ILLYANA: “Who said anything about fighting?” Blue eyes were trained on black painted nails. It was ridiculous that she fell under the rule considering her history. Illyana’s words were directed at Idie though, not any of the other people who had actually discussed fighting. “I don’t think Jean did, but the blonde with the big brain - that was Val - seems interested.” Illyana was too.

KATE: Reclining back as far as her chair would reach, Kate had been fiddling with the edge of her coat as people spoke around her. Osborn’s sudden resurgence into society along with his reveal of his shiny new squad didn’t sit well with her. And as Kate understood, it didn’t sit well with anyone. It took a moment for her to register that Jean had addressed her and she automatically wanted to respond with a ‘what’, but Jean’s words managed to sink in before she did. Dark eyes shifted around the room, not really focusing on anyone, before coming to land back on Jean. “You’re asking the wrong person. I wouldn’t work with Norman if you paid me, but considering the affairs of the Hellfire Club, I can only assume there is something to gain. Emma wouldn’t do it otherwise.”

REED: “I see where everyone is coming from, but it’s never as simple as we want it to be.” Reed replied to both his daughter and the rest of the group. “Putting the kids together and making sure they’re safe sounds logical at first, but is it really smart to put all of them together? If something were to happen, they make an easy target that way.”

JESSICA: “Mutants, underaged heroes,” Jessica ticked off the issues on one hand. “the fact that we don’t know who these heroes are. Should we try and pick a topic or do we like bouncing around?” She opposed everything on the grounds that it felt wrong and S.H.I.E.L.D.,  while imperfect, was often more good than bad. Now a mother herself of a kid with super powers, Jessica hated the unease that came with considering this version of the future. “Did literally anyone see this coming?”

IDIE: “All I meant was that we can’t be seen at each other’s throats.” Idie turned to Illyana. “It would only give people reason to support Osborn’s X-Men, and I think we can agree that is the last thing we want.” Her eye glanced over at the underaged heroes for a moment, spotting the blonde Illyana had spoken about, then turned back to the other mutant. “Fighting whatever Osborn is up to. If we want to stand against it, we need to stand together.”

VALERIA: “We’re stronger together than we are apart, Dad.” Valeria stared at her dad, her eyes wide. “We need each other right now. We can protect each other. We aren’t just a group of dumb kids, Dad. We have powers, just like the rest of you.”

JEAN: Deciding to ignore both Illyana and Idie, Jean kept her gaze on Kate. She’d always have a soft spot for her and her inability to get on Krakoa meant that the two didn’t see each other near enough. Part of that was on her, of course, but with the baby and the Council one thing often turned into the next and suddenly a week had gone by. “If Emma had talked to anyone it would have been you, Kate, or Scott.” Her glance didn’t flicker over to the husband who sat beside her. “This Cabal is international. Do we know anything else about it?”

SUSAN: “Of course you aren’t, dear.” Susan’s tone was more patient than patronizing. Valeria was one of the smartest there was. “We just need to be strategic and delicate here. They’re looking for another incident like what happened with Ms. Marvel. You’re all out of grace and chances.”

PETER: “My paranoia saw this coming.” Peter’s reply to Jess was meant to be quieter than it ended up being. “And still, I have no idea what to do other than just.. not register. But I’m not ready for the whole city or-or the whole world to hate me or think I’m the bad guy.”

XANDRA: Her goal had been to remain as innocuous as possible. Although she preferred not to, Xandra had slipped from her chamber and left an illusion in her place. It had taken a great deal of concentration to maintain her own physical camouflage but as soon as she arrived on the premise she allowed that to fall. “My aunt betrayed me.” Feathers ruffled around her face as she spoke. “Which knowing Deathbird should not be a surprise.” And yet, it was. Xandra had truly hoped for the best. “She joined your President’s Cabal without my approval. Her vote does not represent the Shi’ar people.”

SAM: “Sometimes they’re gonna think you’re the bad guy. It’s inevitable when we’re the ones doing the hard stuff people don’t want to deal with.” Sam knew that unfortunately too well. “We fight, we look bad. We don’t and we end up screwed. We’re just all in agreeance that we don’t know enough yet about what’s going on.”  

VALERIA: Val slouched back in her seat, running a hand through her hair as she thought. She was a child to most of these people, it didn’t matter how smart she was, or what she thought. Peter’s remark made her scoff as she held back a laugh. “Separating us and putting us in safe houses where we will feel useless will give them another Ms. Marvel incident,” Valeria tried to be patient, but it felt like her words were falling on deaf ears.

NADIA: “Can we please stop calling it that?”  Nadia’s voice was quiet. She loved Kamala. The two had been close ever since Kamala had tried to help Nadia get her citizenship set up. Hearing all the terrible things the world was saying about Ms. Marvel in Kamala’s name made her sick. There was no way she’d stand behind any of it. “She’s my friend.”

KATE: "I didn’t say we hadn’t talked.“ Kate responded cooly. They had talked. Kate had outright confronted her, but Emma had brushed it off. No big deal. The excuses given to her were easy enough to accept if you wanted to, but Kate didn’t trust Norman, so she didn’t trust that Emma was telling her the whole story. "I just assume Emma has her reasons and I don’t demand people to give me information. I trust her.” Half of that was true. Kate did trust Emma, but she didn’t know how much of a hand Norman had in this.

PETER: Underneath the mask, Peter’s face burned a light red. Sam was right, but that didn’t mean he was going to admit it. He could stay stubborn, clinging to his idealism for as long as he could. “We keep talking about another incident, but that’s the worst case scenario right? It’s not Kamala’s fault.” He glanced to Nadia, expression soft even if it wasn’t easy to read under his mask. “It’s not our fault at all. It’s Norman’s. There’s gotta be something we can do before it’s too late.”

SCOTT:  He’d chosen to remain quiet on the issue thus far. A team of mutants with Madelyne on it already gave him everything he needed to know about Osborn’s intentions, and he didn’t need to chew on it to get the point across. This had threat written all over it — he just couldn’t figure out why Emma would work with him. He almost considered that she was defaulting to who they had used to be, but Scott knew that even if she was, this was not the route to take. “She hasn’t talked to me.” He responded to Jean before Kate had the chance, his tone level. “This is all still fairly new.”

JEAN: It hadn’t really been accusatory, but Jean still needed to make sure everyone knew that Scott wasn’t involved with what Emma was doing. Jean didn’t want to turn people against  Frost but they needed to be clear on where everyone stood. “Emma joined the Cabal and we had no idea. Your aunt,” she turned to Xandra. “Did so without your permission. And then there’s Loki and Maximus. Did the Asgardians and Inhumans know?”

ODINSON: “Loki’s schemes are never ending.” Odinson replied with an eyeroll. “It’s difficult to guess their intentions, but I am not surprised by where they ended up. If teams like this were to be formed, Loki would be drawn to it all like an insect to a flame.”

CRYSTALIA: Even though it may have surprised most, Crystalia had stayed mostly quiet throughout this. New Attilan was almost exempt from the problem but her connection to the Nuhumans and Kamala Khan made it her problem. “My cousin is a snake in the grass.” Prior fondness was dulled by years of backstabbing. Lockjaw was panting in the corner, his massive head nearly in the doorway. “The Inhumans have struggled enough without him causing trouble.”

SAM: “We’re going to figure it out, kid. I promise. There’s no way in hell we’re going to let you guys go down here. But we gotta ask ourselves: who are these people and how did Norman recruit them without us knowing?”

CAROL: "Are we really surprised he did?“ Her question was directed at Sam’s. "He doesn’t exactly strike me as all that forthright. If anything, this is expected. You gather a set of heroes who will follow you and you have a perfect war machine.”

VALKYRIE: “Well, one of them is a two faced wench with a preference for green.” Val was leaned forward in her chair, one tattooed forearm braced against the table. “The Enchantress. Amora has never spelled anything but trouble.”

THOR: “And the Minotaur.” Thor piggybacked off of Val. “I knoweth him, unfortunately. His name is Dario Agger. He runs Roxxon and his bloodlust is… unfortunate, to say the least.”

SAM: “Surprised? No. Disappointed? Yes. There should only be one War Machine, and that’s Rhodes. Taking up the Iron Patriot without saying anything was meant to be disrespectful. What about Star? Wanda, you said you got a reality stone reading off of her. You, Vis and Carol know the Stones pretty well. Do we know her deal?”

KATE: “Look I could be wrong,” Kate had leaned forward at this point, interjecting between Sam’s and Carol’s conversation. “But I think I talked to her. Star, I mean.”

WANDA: “You did?” Wanda turned her attention to Kate, speaking for the first time. She had spent the night picking up on different energies but had turned a blind eye due to how caught up in the Vision she had been. Now, she was regretting her decision. “I admit that I didn’t look close enough. Who was she?”

KATE: “She actually came with you, I think.” Kate said, subtly pointing towards Carol. “God, all I can picture is the atrocious pink dress. In a gala like that, you’d expect opulence or at least something formal. Not mid 2000’s Barbie dreamhouse. I didn’t catch her name, but something about her was off. Like Norman Osborn off.”

JEAN: “Kate,” Jean shifted so she could pass (baby) Charles to Scott. “Would you mind if I entered your mind for a moment to pull the name and face out?”

SAM: “You brought an American Avenger as your date, Danvers?” Sam’s brow rose. He couldn’t place her face. It was a bland blonde mix. He hadn’t been there long at all. Mostly a quick stop in and then bail to try and get home to rest.

KATE: For a long moment, Kate just stared at Jean, her features blank. She didn’t want to give anything away in the moment, but she wasn’t comfortable being in her own head, let alone letting someone else navigate around there. But she’d offered this tidbit of information, so maybe she should see this the whole way through. “If you think it’s necessary.”

JEAN: Thank you for trusting me. Jean’s words were spoken so only Kate could hear. Her eyes turned pink as she carefully dived into Kitty’s mind, dancing around anything intimate to find her way to the night in question. It took a moment to bring a blurry memory to focus, but then “—I thought I said I didn’t want to know your name.” Jean spoke along with the memory as the blonde rose from her barstool and began to back away. “Ripley.” The light died down then and Jean let the image of ‘Ripley’ be projected towards the others. “Do we know who she is or why she has a reality stone?”

CAROL:  She had suspected that Ripley was who Kate was referring to, but Carol hadn’t been struck with the same vibe. “She’s just a reporter.” She said in slight defense. “Are you sure you think it’s her?”

JESSICA: “Jesus Christ.” Jess shook her head, looking to Carol in disbelief. She should have put it together and felt stupid for not doing so, but Jess hadn’t even attended the Gala or seen who Carol had brought with her. “That ‘reporter’ is a psycho bitch. Ripley Ryan. Star. She’s from my reality.” As in, Earth-616. “She had a major bone to pick with you, Carol. Went as far as being experimented on to get back at you. You both almost died, but she was carted off to the Raft. I haven’t been home since then. I had no idea she’d gotten a Stone or came here.”

CAROL: Carol’s eyes shifted quickly, meeting Jess’s. Behind her gaze, there was a twinge of surprise but she did her best to keep her reaction neutral. “And you’re sure.” She didn’t doubt Jess, she hadn’t even known why she bothered asking, but a part of her wanted to believe in the girl. Carol always felt she had great instincts, and to have something be so carefully hidden right before her eyes was a hard pill to swallow. “She does realize that I’m not from her reality.”

GWEN: She had forgot to turn it off. Flipping your phone to mute seemed like a pretty simple thing to remember if you were going to very respectable Avengers meetings, especially when you lived in another reality and your dad couldn’t even contact you on this emergency line. Her phone was so often ignored that she was surprised when it began to trill that awful sound usually reserved only for Amber Alerts. She quickly fumbled with the device, about to turn it off until she caught sight of the picture that had come with the headline. Suddenly, Carol’s murderous girlfriend or whatever was way less important. Nadia and Lana’s phones  went off as well, and Gwen quickly tried to read and reread what had been sent out. “–uh, guys??”

PETER: Peter knew something was off even before Gwen reacted. He watched her reach for her phone but ignored his own that vibrated on the surface in front of him. The anxiety made him freeze, but as Gwen’s eyes stayed glued to her phone he knew he had to see for himself. He reached for his own, clicked it on, and there it was. It took longer than it should have for it to all sink in. What was in reality only a few seconds felt like minutes to him, and suddenly he became hyper aware of everyone focusing in on him. “What?” Maybe his eyes were tricking him? He felt his heart begin to race and heard it echo in his ears. This wasn’t really happening, was it? That was.. him. Right smack in the middle of his screen– and everyone else’s for that matter. It was out. Someone must have been following him, or someone here maybe sold him out.. or– “No, no no no no–!” Everything went cold, and his hands began to shake. His phone would have dropped out of his grasp if he hadn’t held on to it just a bit too tight, causing the screen to splinter at the edges. Right now he was surrounded and it felt like he was in a cage. Vulnerable. Exposed. Terrified. Betrayed. Peter Parker is Spider-Man. And there was no taking it back. Even though they had all just been discussing the future of people like him, suddenly Peter didn’t trust a single one of them. But his brain was in a fog– rage, confusion, terror. He couldn’t get himself to move, but he was at least thankful he had his mask on so no one could see the few tears trailing down his cheeks. “–what am I supposed to do now?” His voice was barely at a whisper.

JESSICA: Well, shit. That had taken the meeting in a way no one had expected. Jessica had to fish her phone out of her bag to see what everyone was staring at. Once she did she almost wished that she hadn’t. Maybe it was her unearthed motherly instinct, but she was quickly on her feet and moving around the table to crouch beside Parker. “Hey, kid,” her voice was low, dark head bent towards him. “Right now? Take deep breaths.”

LANA: “What the actual @#$@#. So they’re just going to out people and endanger them now?” Lana’s hands were curled into fists. She had never had a secret identity in the traditional sense. If the government wanted her they’d likely be able to find her unless she was on Krakoa. “We have to @#$@# do something.”

CAROL: Interesting how the world had just been introduced to a series of masked crusaders and one of their very own had just been forced to reveal who he was. Choosing to stay back, Carol observed the panic and frustration, understanding both but reacting to neither. Turning to Sam, she tried to catch his attention with a soft tone. “Convenient timing, wouldn’t you say?”

SAM: “It’s bullshit, that’s what it is.” Sam couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice. Peter was a good kid. If someone wanted to out themselves it was fine, but a public callout wasn’t. “This is the kind of game we’re going to be playing. I hate to say it, but we won’t have time to sit back. They’re going to come straight at us.”

PETER: The grip he had around his phone tightened more and he could hear the quiet cascade of cracking glass from underneath his fingers. Peter was breathing. But it was definitely not deep breaths. The skin-tight red fabric around his chest rose and fell heavily as he sat there fuming, and he eventually got to his feet. ”I’m breathing just fine!” His voice wasn’t at a whisper anymore, and as he turned away from Jess he slammed a fist against the table. For a split second his mind wandered to Aunt May. How long would it take for her to hear the news and call him? What was he going to say to her? Was it even safe for him to go home? The equal levels of fear and anger had shifted as the seconds ticked by, and Peter found himself seeing red. His empty hand rose up and ripped off his mask, and he closed his eyes as the cool air hit his skin. “What’s the point of this anymore?” The fistful of red he had just pulled off was promptly thrown harshly to his feet, where it stayed and he stared at it. “Who did this to me? Why me? Why now?”

CAROL: She hated how right he was. A tic in the back of her jaw worked as she watched Peter, choosing to keep her personal emotions to herself. There was no reason to amplify the stress in the room. “Then we take the fight to them. Look, I don’t know how the Avengers were run before, but we’re not going to wait until they drop a bomb on New York to react. If Norman wants a war, I say we give him one.”

SAM: “We miscalculate this and we could be over. Osborn doesn’t need much to spin things against us. Whatever we do, we do it right.” If Steve were here he would have told him whatever it takes. But once again, he wasn’t. “If you have a secret identity, you may want to consider telling your loved ones.” Sam addressed the group. “Or if you can’t, let us know and we’ll find away to keep them safe. I’m sorry, Peter, really, but this isn’t about you. Osborn’s making an example out of you and it’s a real piece of shit thing to do. This has got to be our wake up call, guys. Things can turn and fast.”

JESSICA: Jess didn’t flinch as Peter lashed out. Had it been her she would have done worse, green energy tearing holes in everything around her. For a long time she had wrestled with the  fact that she had almost never had a secret identity. She longed for anonymity but was also grateful to avoid things like this. “Norman Osborn is not a good guy where I come from. We can talk about it later, if you want.” As much as Jess tried to keep reality separate it couldn’t be avoided tonight. She and Peter B. had decided long ago that some things should be kept secret. Not lied about, per se, but what happened to Peter B.’s Gwen had never been something this Peter needed to bear. With everything happening now some truths may have been inevitable.  Catching Gwen’s eye over his shoulder, Jess gave her a look before rising and facing Carol and Steve to listen in on their conversation.

GWEN: Gwen wasn’t really sure why she was being passed the baton, but she did know being a teenaged spider person sucked.  She had seen frustration and fear in her Peter and it scared her to see it again, but she did the best to shake the feeling off. Webbing quickly shot the mask into her hands, and Gwen placed it in front of him once more. “The point of this is that you get out there and help people. Your mask is your badge, even if you don’t need to wear it. I think you need some air, Peter.”

PETER: “Well it definitely feels like it’s about me! That’s my face on your phone! Who knows how many people have seen this.” Finally Peter loosened the grip on his phone and let it drop back to the table with a thud. He didn’t want to believe that Norman would do something like this, not something so personal. The harder he tried to ignore that horrible feeling deep in his gut, the worse it got. He took a long glance at Jess as she moved away, not offering her up either a yes or no– but filing away the invitation for later. As Gwen moved closer he fought hard against his urge to move away before she reached him. It would have been so easy to tell her to leave him alone. But he stayed. He let her grab hold of his mask and through the mess of brown curls covering his eyes, he found himself unable to look away as she held it out to him. His lungs were still taking in harsh shallow breaths. He was still angry. But she was right– he needed some air. ”–fine. Peter picked up his phone and turned to head out of the room without grabbing his mask, and without bothering to see if Gwen would follow him. It was hard to tell if he wanted to be alone right now or not. The feelings of loneliness and being completely stifled were too hard to separate. Every feeling was, truthfully.

H.A.M.M.E.R: It started with the peeling of an alarm. Some kind of sirens were blaring and then there was the pounding of boots that never heralded anything good. We’re here under the authorization of C.R.A.D.L.E. in regards to S.315,  the Underage Superhuman Welfare Act, an amplified voice accompanied the sound of the door being ripped open before H.A.M.M.E.R. agents inundated the room. “This is Carolina Washington, C.R.A.D.L.E. officer.” A woman shouldered her way to the front with her weapon raised. “We were made aware that underaged heroes who have not yet complied with the law were converging here. We need to bring them in to register. Please, let’s do this the easy way.”

CAROL: Carol jumped to her feet so quickly that her chair kicked out from under her and landed cockeyed on the floor. The alarm blared in her ears, a torrent of sound that was as startling as it was telling. She didn’t bother paying mind to the introduction; when a gun was raised at her, she didn’t quite care for formalities. “I think the time for doing things the right way has passed, Sam.” Carol tossed over her shoulder.

PETER: Peter made it about two steps before he sensed it. Eyes that were once glued to the floor shot up and landed on the doors just before they were slashed open. He glanced back to the rest of the group, to his friends and the people his age that they were here for. It only took a moment for Peter’s face to harder with resolve, and now he was going to the right (or maybe very stupid) thing. Once he turned back around he shot out webbing and swung himself to the center of the room to place himself in front of the CRADLE officers. “Yeah? Well I’m Peter Parker– but I guess you already knew that didn’t you?” He held out his arms wide out at his sides, almost inviting them to come at him. “I would say that it’s nice to meet you Carolina, but it’s really not. So why don’t you just get outta here, and leave my friends alone. I’m in a really crappy mood.”

H.A.M.M.E.R.: “It’s nice to meet you, Peter Parker.” Carolina replied coolly, one hand signaling her men. “I thought your face looked familiar.” They had brought collars, already prepped and warned by the telepath they were working with on what to expect. It had been a precaution to bring back-up with them, Star of the American Avengers and the Goblin Queen of the American X-Men as back-up. “You and your friends are going to follow the law now and come with us.”

RIPLEY: Carol was here, but Ripley didn’t really feel like saying hi. The hot brunette from the bar was as well but this was business and needed to be treated as such. “Collar.” The word left bored lips as the newly minted Avenger pointed towards a female mutant in a ridiculous coat, a collar solidifying around her throat a second later. “Next?”

PETER: “Yeah, that’s me. Don’t worry, I won’t be offended if you didn’t set that picture of me as your lockscreen.” He took one more determined step closer and then criss-crossed his arms, each hand aiming at the guns closest to him to send webbing flying towards them. It sealed the ends of the barrels. He didn’t dare look behind him, but he hoped this was giving them all enough time to find another way out. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

ILLYANA: Oh, she was so not into this. “C’mon, you. Time to go.” Illyana took a step closer to Scott and Jean, her overall purpose there to make sure they could get the baby back unharmed. There was a flash of light before she dipped and took the Grey-Summers family with her.

LANA: “@#$@#.” Gloved hands clawed at Lana’s throat. “Seriously? Me first?” She looked to Nate as if he had some way to remove a collar.

KATE: No, they weren’t. Phasing through the floor, Kate maneuvered until she was just beneath one of the agents, reemerging with enough force that she knocked his weapon from his hand and took it into her own. Aiming it at Carolina, she tightened her finger on the trigger. “You brought a gun to a mutant fight; I’m not really sure how you planned on winning this one.”

RIPLEY: “With a little extra firepower.” Ripley moved fast enough to materialize behind Kate, crimson eyes trained on the gun.  “That gun doesn’t work.” The red in her chest flared up in a  moment of red intensity before a smile settled over her lips.

GWEN: Her body rippled as the black of her suit overtook the white, pink threading down the material. “Love the energy Pete, really, but maybe less angst and more focus?” Her symbiote always whispered louder in her ear when she let it manifest like that but they weren’t going to rip anyone in half tonight. “Maybe we need to go somewhere as in away from here and their guns.”

CABLE: Nate’s first instinct was to grab his gun and aim it right at the person who put the color on Lana. His second instinct was to try and get the collar off of her. And his second instinct won. He quickly grabbed her and teleported the two of them into the farthest corner of the room, then immediately dove into trying to find a way to help her– even though he already knew that there wasn’t. “I can’t–” Nate didn’t finish his sentence, both hands on the device at her throat as he looked back towards the rest of the action. “I’m sorry.” He was scared– for both her and himself. Getting collared meant that he would be helpless to save himself against the metal clawing his way through his body.

KATE: With an annoyed cock to her brow, Kate pulled the trigger just for good measure and lo and behold, a string of bubbles came out of the chamber. Not exactly the kickback she was looking for. With a frustrated grunt, Kate shifted her grip on the gun and spun, aiming to knock Ripley right in the mouth with it.

LANA: “Oh, @#$@# this. You have to go.” Lana forced herself to say words she really didn’t want to. She knew about his stupid sickness and what it did. “I’ve done this bullshit before. I’m going to be fine.” Because she was an incurable dumbass she fired off one test shot but the hot flash of pain nearly made her vision go black. There was no way she’d be able to get it off of herself. “Please don’t apologize. We’ve already died together once and I’m really @#$@# over this whole thing. So, go.”

CABLE: “I–” Nate cringed when she tried to get the collar off. He shouldn’t have to leave her like this. Frustration took over and his metal hand clenched into a fist before he punched the wall closest to him, leaving a noticeable dent. “Shit. Don’t do anything too stupid, alright?” He forced himself to take in a deep breath and then planted a kiss on her lips before backing away. “I’ll see you soon.” Nate took one last look at her and then activated the device on his wrist, disappearing in a flash of blue light.

RIPLEY: As the gun connected with her face Ripley frowned slightly, grateful she had already protected herself earlier. “Okay, first off, no thank you.” She grabbed Kate’s wrist, twisting it so she could throw the woman backwards towards the wall. Was she powerful? Sure. New to all of  this? To an extent. Her only main fight had been Carol  and everyone knew how that had ended. “I liked you better when you weren’t trying to be a hero.” She hissed, stepping back to survey the room. There was a flash of blue as someone teleported away. Gaze settling on the person left behind, Ripley shook her head. “Time to go to sleep.” The body hitting the ground meant she could move onto the next fighting hero.

PETER: “You go then!” Peter shouted back to Gwen as he webbed two more guns and yanked them out of the officers’ grip. “They already know who I am. This way everyone else has a chance to get out.”

CAROL: The hole the wall made when Kate collided with it suggested that Ripley was more overpowered than Carol originally thought. Honestly, she was surprised Kate didn’t go right through it, either phasing or not. Redirecting her focus, Carol allowed her powers to ignite, illuminating her palms as she aimed the energy blasts straight for Ripley, not bothered by the guards she’d have to go through to get to her. There was a bit of a personal vendetta there, her anger at a lower simmer. “Now’s probably a great time to get out of here.” She tossed at Sam. If it ended up just being the two of them, then so be it.

GWEN: “Oh shut up. I’m not going to leave you.” Not again, her mind filled in. She couldn’t let down yet another Peter Parker. Her dad was completely and totally going to murder her when he found out what was going on. Her suit was moving alongside her webbing but the emission of a high pitched buzz drove her to her knees as the symbiote squirmed and tried to separate from her.

SAM: Shields didn’t work very well in confirmed spaces and Sam couldn’t use it without potentially taking out an ally as well. “I always say no man left behind and these are kids.” That being said, they weren’t looking good. One was already being dragged out collared and unconscious  and the last thing they needed was for anyone else to get hurt. “Any last ditch plans, Cap?”

RIPLEY: Now that one hurt. Ripley’s mouth was tugged into frown as she glared at Carol, pulling herself to her feet. The C.R.A.DL.E. agents were already removing some of the minors but this pointless violence was tiring. “The best thing you can do is let them come with us. They’re safer in a holding cell registering than here where an accident can happen.” To emphasize her point an agent cranked up the volume on the buzz device. “Can we end this now?”

CAROL: Lowering her first, Carol let the charge in her arm die down a bit as Ripley stood back up. She all but shook it off and as Carol’s eyes scanned the room, she almost felt like her desire to push Ripley back was only going to compromise the people around her. And not to mention the building itself. They weren’t outside, they weren’t even in a very large room. As much as she wanted to unload on her, Carol damped the power and shot at Ripley again. Nothing debilitating, but until she focused on her, Carol was going to keep shooting at her. “Leave us and take as many kids as you can. If I can keep her occupied, she can’t control the kids. I don’t know if there’s another option here.”

PETER: Dammit, Gwen. Peter kept his jaw clenched painfully shut to make sure he didn’t snap at her. This was his fight. He was hit hard and he wanted to hit back– and it was better to do that alone. But his anger-fueled adrenaline was beginning to die down, and as it did the rest of the room came into focus. Carol’s blast caught his attention and suddenly, he realized just how stupid this idea of his had been. He wasn’t going to win this one, not without causing more harm than good. He opened his mouth to reply to Gwen when the same high-pitched sound hit him, and he instinctively slammed both hands over his ears to try and block it out. ”No!” She fell to her knees and all Peter could do was watch her and her symbiote struggle. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. “Alright, stop! Stop it! I won’t fight you, just– turn it off!”

RIPLEY: “Would you - knock - it- off??” Ripley raised her voice more than she had before. “Your shots are bouncing back.” Exasperation lined her tone. One day she’d need to learn to rewrite reality without literally having to telegraph what she was planning on doing verbally. “There! That’s the spirit. Let’s all be more like Peter.”

H.A.M.M.E.R: “I’m sorry, Captain, but he won’t be leaving with any of the children. We’re here under direct orders from the United States government.” Carolina said. A gloved agent knelt down to put a collar on the symbiote clothed teenager before another roughly grabbed another underaged hero. “Believe it or not, this is the best course of action for everyone. As an official Commander under C.R.A.D.L.E. I, Carolina Washington, hereby issue the arrests of Peter Parker, Gwendolyne Stacy, Gwendolyn Poole, Nadia Van Dyne, Laura Kinney, Lana Baumgartner and Jean Grey for failure to comply with S.315,  the Underage Superhuman Welfare Act. You will not be read your rights but will be given a full list of legal requirements upon arrival at our facilities. Any further attempts of violence will result in extended consequences. Do we have any other questions?”

GWEN: The sound was gone but they had put a collar on her. Gwen had no powers of her own anymore. Whatever they clamped around her neck was emitting some kind of frequency that stopped the symbiote from being able to compose itself. A few spiders wandered off of her, creeping down across the floor. “Do not be like Peter.” She moaned despite her cotton mouth. As in, Peter go.

SAM: This was a fresh layer of bullshit if they thought that they could waltz in, bang up some kids and then just cart them off to god knows where to do things on their terms. “Some of  these heroes aren’t American, they’re Krakoan. And Empress Neramani isn’t from Earth at all. You better watch what you guys are walking into.”

H.A.M.M.E.R.: “We know exactly what we’re walking into. The law states that any underaged hero operating on American soil is liable and able to be tried. These mutants were born American citizens. They’re under our jurisdiction. But thank you for reminding me of Empress Neramani.” Her gaze drifted over to the feathered Shi’ar. “We have received express permission from Cal’syee Neramani to take Xandra into custody as she is both half mutant and also far underage.” Family politics were messy, but Carolina just followed orders. She was a clean-up specialist, after all. “Your resistance will be noted and recorded.”

CAROL: The glow she was emitting didn’t die down this time as Carol approached Carolina, getting right up in her face. In the corner of her eye, she kept Ridley in sight, ready to send her supercharged ass flying if she had to. “You can take your Act and shove it up your ass for all I care. If you’re going to take these kids, you’re going to have to arrest me too, because I’m not letting you leave with them.”

RIPLEY: Theatrics. That’s all superheroes were. Theatrical little bitches who thought the Earth  orbited around them. Ripley could get into her hatred of Carol Danvers and all she stood for, but at that moment there was more to focus on. The Stone was twitching in her chest and her head snapped to the side to see the Scarlet Witch with magic glowing around her fingers. Could Wanda kick Ripley’s ass? Definitely. Did Ripley get the element of surprise? Definitely. One  word and the brunette went down and the blonde prayed they’d leave before she got back up. With her attention returned to Carol, two words were spoken under her breath before lasers erupted from her eyes and clipped Carol in the temple.

CAROL: If Carolina even made a move, Carol was going to put her fist through her chest. It was impossible not to be seething, to watch the kids, who were barely old enough to even have mastered their abilities, be taken into custody for them. She didn’t battle Thanos or the X-men just for people to be robbed of their freedom, especially not by those who Carol knew were more than eager to weaponize them. Or something worse. In a split moment of distraction, Carol took her focus off of Ripley just in time for her to knock her with a laser blast, forcing her off her planted stance. As she fought to regain her footing, all the energy Carol had been carefully suppressing erupted, engulfing her in one fell swoop. Without thinking, without taking it into care, Carol just shot a mega beam right back at her, her emotions getting the better of her.

PETER: This.. definitely didn’t go as he had wanted it to. Even though the sound wasn’t nearly as devastating to him as it was to Gwen and her suit, it had slowed him down enough that they slipped the collar on her without him being able to stop them. It shifted to a low hum that he was sure was still loud to her, and once he refocused he felt his stomach twist into knots. He looked to her with disbelief and panic as he realized that they were losing. He didn’t want to leave them. Even though he was scared, he was stubborn and defiant and pissed off. But there were other heroes here that were sticking their neck out for them, and because of that.. maybe it was wrong to simply let himself get taken. His mind was full of paradoxes. But Carol was doing a nice job distracting them, which was exactly what he needed right now. “Sorry–” He mumbled a pained last word to Gwen and then took off, aiming for the ceiling to swing over and kick one of the officers down to make an opening for himself. He easily broke the glass on the closest window and then flung through it, not looking back.

ERIK: If there was one thing Erik hadn’t expected to see, it was Wanda being taken down. His daughter was a force to be reckoned with, but this whole situation was new and strange and tonight wasn’t the time to get into what made sense or not. He quickly made his way over to her, ready to fight back if he was met with any resistance as he gently scooped her off the ground. Neither of them were the targets right now, and he was thankful for that as he got them out to head back to Krakoa.

RIPLEY: “Jesus fucking —” the blast from Carol was strong enough to send Ripley tumbling head over heels through the wall. It was yet another reason to despise Carol Danvers even though she had far too many already. For a moment she just laid on the ground spitting out chunks of plaster. She could hear Carolina running her fat mouth and some glass was broken.  Despite the suit and ability to rewrite reality she was new to this. Being some fake ass Avenger wouldn’t change that. Her bones cried out in protest as she pulled herself to her feet, already commanding herself to heal. “You know,” Ripley staggered back into the main room as she  wiped some blood off of her face with one arm. “I really want to kill you. Like really, really want to but they said no. Our rematch can wait for another day. So here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going down. Hard. And when you wake up you’re going to have a nasty headache. Sweet dreams, bitch.” Whatever cosmic power fueled her words took its toll before Ripley straightened and shoved a few locks of hair out of her eyes. “Wrap this up, Washington. Now.”

KATE: The force that Ripley had used to shove Kate back and into the nearest wall had come too fast and too hard and she hadn’t been able to will her body to phase through it in time. Though Kate didn’t know how it would matter — she would’ve either skidded on the floor outside or smacked into another wall. The impact had been powerful enough that it had knocked her out, only coming to to watch Carol crumble and collapse in a heap on the floor. A heart punched in her chest as adrenaline forced her to her feet, pushing through the aches and pains that wanted to keep her ass planted where it was. The impact had been strong enough that she’d either broken her arm or dislocated it, but she just held it as more agents rounded up kids and Ripley kept those who would fight back at bay. “I don’t think we can win this.” she said, not knowing if her voice carried over the commotion.

H.A.M.M.E.R.: The last of the underaged heroes were being collared, cuffed and carted away.  An agent had manage to subdue Sam Wilson and handcuff him to a chair and Carol Danvers was also down. “No, Miss Pryde.” Carolina shook her head. “You’re not going to.”  At her command an agent ambled over to the mutant and grabbed her by the injured arm for leverage before slapping a collar on her throat. “It’s set to turn itself off in an hour. Expect to feel weak and dizzy in the meantime. We very well could have taken you in, but Ms. Frost asked us to avoid doing so if at all possible.” Now that the room was nearly emptied, Carolina regarded the two remaining heroes with a slightly aloof smile. “We’ll be issuing a statement later about the minors. Until then, have a nice evening.” With the heels of her boots crunching over broken glass, Carolina and the H.A.M.M.E.R. agents left.

SAM: Nothing had gone according to plan, and now they had lost six people and an intergalactic diplomat. Carol was out cold and Pryde wasn’t looking too hot either. The Inhumans had escaped with Lockjaw near the beginning and the Asgardians had also left.  Reed and Sue bailing with their kid made sense; they had to get her home. But the others? Sam couldn’t swallow his guilt. He couldn’t even wipe the blood that  was dripping off his temple, the dark skin above his eye turning purple already from the butt of a gun that had taken him down for a few minutes. With both his hands cuffed to the table, it really felt more like a humiliation and a warning. Try to intervene and this is what happens. “Jesus.” He exhaled in one heavy breath. Back-up would be coming shortly to help them assess the situation, but it was too late. They lost. Now they just needed to see where they could go from here.

[useless-slytherclaw]

Chapter 14: The Order

Even though the dining-room door was closed, the sound of laughter and talking bubbled out around it.  Tonks rushed forward, but Regulus moved with more care.  It was odd to hear so much laughter in this house. 

Tonks swung open the dining room door and the sound flowed out into the hallway.  Regulus glanced over his shoulder, but his mother didn’t start screaming.  Tonks vanished through the door, but Regulus couldn’t help but hang back.  He’d never been a fan of social events and this one was no different.  How many of the people in there would he even know?

“Come on,” Iset said. “It has to be less scary than one of your mother's dinner parties.”

“Anything is less scary than one of those dinner parties,” Regulus replied and took the step forward and through the door.

The table was covered in various dishes, and people milled around.  Sirius was in the middle of giving Tonks a hug.  He looked over her shoulder at Regulus.

“I’m surprised you came down,” he said after he released Tonks.

“Well, I can’t work with the racket, so I figured that I might as well.”

“Fair enough.  Well, it seems that almost everyone is here.” He reached down and tapped a spoon against his metal goblet, releasing a bell-like sound that quieted the crowd.

“Hello everyone.  I’m very glad to see all of you.” He pointed his hand at Regulus.  “This is my brother, Regulus.  Technically, this is his house now so, you’ll be seeing him around.  This is Iset Senusret, she’ll also be around.  That’s all!”

Regulus felt all of their eyes on him.  He saw the shock in the faces of the older Order members and confusion on the younger ones.  Several younger people shouted greetings and people waved before turning around.

“That was unnecessary,” Regulus said with a scowl.  

“Nonsense, it’s faster this way.”  Regulus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.  

Tonks reappeared and offered Iset her hand.  “Miss Senusret, sorry I forgot to introduce myself.  My mother tried to teach me manners, I swear.”

Iset laughed and shook her hand.  “It’s no problem.  It’s just Iset though.”

“I’m curious about that,” Sirius said.  “You said the same thing to Moody.  I remember you being very formal.”

“People change, Sirius.” Iset said, “at least they are supposed to.”  

Sirius rolled his eyes.  “You don’t want people using your last name.  Why?”

“Sirius,” Regulus said, teeth gritted, “Leave it.”

“You guys were always so proud of your family names,” Sirius said motioning to Regulus and Iset.  “I want to know what changed.”

“One,” Iset said, voice cold.  “It’s my grandfather’s name, not my family name.  We don’t have a family name; it’s too modern.  Two: my family is a very ancient line full of powerful wizards, which is deserving of respect.  Three: the name is not mine to claim anymore.”

“Sure,” Sirius said lazily.

Iset’s face was growing pale with tightly controlled rage.  “I’m sure you can imagine. Mr. Black why someone wouldn’t want to hear their family name all the time.”

Sirius leaned away from her when she spat his name as if the name was a physical assault.  Iset turned on her heel and walked towards the door.  The first few steps were angry, as if she was going to storm out.  But in an impressive example of self-control, she melted back into the decisive steps she normally used.  

“Sirius!” Remus had appeared over his shoulder.

“Damn it,” Regulus said, glaring at his brother.  “Why do you have to put your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

The people closest to them had turned to watch at the sound of angry voices.  Ignoring them, Regulus turned and moved to follow Iset, but she raised her hand to halt him.

“I’m fine.  I’m just going to the washroom; I’ll be back.  You have company.  It’d be rude to ignore them.”

“As you wish,” Regulus said, still glaring at his brother.  

“Sirius,” Remus was saying sternly.  “That was entirely uncalled for.”  Sirius tried to protest, but Remus cut him off.  “As she said, you should know more than anyone how sensitive names can be.”  

Regulus walked past Sirius and into the room, slamming his shoulder into his brother’s as he walked away.  After a few steps, he managed to relax his gate, hiding his anger behind a well-practiced veneer of civility.  Weaving around the room to avoid groups of people, Regulus made his way to the back corner where an intricately carved sideboard sat.  Tapping his wand on the doors and murmuring a spell, he opened it and pulled out some of his father’s bourbon into a glass.  He closed the door and leaned against the sideboard.  He kept his eyes on the door, waiting for Iset to return.  

“Hello there!” A pair of voices said to his right.  Turning to look, he found himself face to face with a pair of smiling, identical red-headed boys.  His first thought was the Prewett Brothers.  But, that couldn’t be correct, the Prewetts would be well into their 30s if not their 40s by now.  Maybe they were the Prewett’s kids; though, with the red hair, they could be Weasleys.  

“So,” one of them said.

“We’re wondering who exactly you are,” said the other.

“It’s like Sirius said, I’m his brother.”

“Come on.  We know there’s more to it than that.”

“You’re our age, but you didn’t go to Hogwarts.”

“Sirius never mentioned a brother.”  

“Plus, you only show up after Sirius miraculously survived a fight everyone thought was fatal.”  They took turns talking, and Regulus found it a bit overwhelming.  

“Who are you?” He said instead of answering.  

“Fred Weasley,” said the one on the left.  

“George Weasley,” said the other one.

“At your service,” they said together.  Regulus resisted the urge to groan.  They had way too much enthusiasm.  

“Didn’t they,” Regulus gestured to the room at large, “explain what happened with Sirius.”

Fred snorted, and George laughed and said: “They don’t tell us anything.”

“Everything is ‘need to know’,” Fred said with air quotes.  

Regulus felt a bright burn of irritation.  It had been the same way with the Death Eaters.  Kids doing as they're told, not getting any information, and being shoved right into the line of fire.  

“Well,” Regulus said, crossing his arms.  “Since I’m not in The Order: Sirius died.  I died seventeen years ago.  When Sirius came through the veil using the archway in the Department of Mysteries, the veil didn’t completely close.  Iset saw that and we all came back through.”  

Two identical expressions of disbelief met his words.  For a long moment neither of them spoke, so Regulus continued.  “You can go look at the family tapestry.  My picture and name are on there along with the day I was born and the day I died.”  

The two boys looked from Regulus to each other.  They appeared to have some sort of entire conversation because they nodded and turned back to Regulus with grins.

“Wicked!” they said together.  

“Hey,” one of them said, Regulus had forgotten which was Fred and which was George.  “Can we have some of whatever you’re drinking?”

“Sure,” Regulus said, pulling out his wand and opening the sideboard again.  They took the glasses with a muttered thanks.  

“Oh!” said the one who’d asked for the drink.  “This is good stuff.”

“Of course,” Regulus said with a smile.  “My father bought it.  He never bought anything cheap in his entire life.”

There was a moment of silence as they drank their bourbon.  

“I have another question,” one of the red-headed twins said.

“I have a feeling you are going to ask whether I want you to or not,” Regulus said with a sigh, returning his gaze to the door.

“Sirius said that his entire family was dark wizards.”  

“He’s not wrong,” Regulus admitted.  He spun the bourbon glass in his hand, watching the way the lights danced in the crystal.  “You want to know if I am a dark wizard.”

There was no response, just two faces full of expectation.  For a long moment, Regulus didn’t respond either.  He just kept spinning the glass in his hands, trying to think of an answer.  “I was a Death Eater, but I defected, and I died doing it.  Whether I’m a dark wizard or not,” Regulus just shrugged. 

“You were a Death Eater?” One of them exclaimed, and Regulus repressed a wince looking around.  He supposed it would get around that he had once been a Death Eater, it certainly wasn’t a secret.   It still didn’t mean that he wanted people shouting about him being a Death Eater in a room full of people whose entire goal was to defeat the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.  

“Yes,” Regulus said at a conversational volume.

“What was it like?” the other demanded.  Regulus fingers stopped spinning the glass and gripped it tightly.

“It's not something that I want to talk about.”  He could tell that they were about to ask him more questions anyway when there was a commotion by the door.  All three turned to the door.  

Iset was standing there, but so was someone else: a man with long greasy black hair and a large nose.  Regulus set his glass on the sideboard and started to make his way back through the crowd.

“This is going to be interesting,” said one of the twins behind him.

“Senusret,” Snape was saying.  Iset didn’t correct him.  “I never thought I’d see you again after you ran off to America.”

“I never intended to return, Snape.”

Snape turned and swept his vulture-like gaze around the room, which had grown quiet.  Sirius was closer to Snape than Regulus was and Snape’s eyes fell on him first.

“So,” Snape said with a sneer.  “It seems that the bad news is true; you’re back.”

“Snivillus,” Sirius said with an equal sneer.  “Seems you didn’t have the decency to die while I was gone.”

“I guess that means the little lordling is back too?”

“Do you mean Reg?” Sirius said with a smile, “I always thought you two were friends?”

“Friends?” Snape said with a cold laugh. “Regulus Black be friends with a half-blood like me?  Don't make me laugh.”

“Hello Severus, it’s been a while,” Regulus said perfectly politely, finally reaching the front of the room.  He met the man’s dark gaze unflinchingly.  

“Life is never done giving you two handouts is it?” Snape asked, face tight with anger.

“Boys,” Iset said lightly.  “You’re making a scene.”  Regulus sensed that she wanted to say ‘you’re acting like children’.  

“Never thought I’d see someone as smart as you mixed up with these two, Senusret,” Snape said.  He gave her a dirty look.  “I guess money always talks.”

Iset set her jaw, but before she could say anything, Regulus broke in.  “Don’t speak to her like that.”

“Oh?” Snape said, eyes darting between Iset and Regulus.  “Is that how it is then?”  He smiled and turned his back on them heading towards the door.  Sirius opened his mouth, but Remus put a hand on his shoulder, silencing him.

Snape stopped at the door.  “Don’t try and play the hero, Regulus.”  He turned to look at Regulus.  “Everyone knows you just didn’t have the stomach to do what the Dark Lord wished.  You ran away like a dog with a tail between its legs.”

“I’m not a hero,” Regulus said calmly.  “But neither are you.  I’d bet a thousand galleons you only changed sides once you realized that the Dark Lord wasn’t going to make a special exception for that little red-haired mu-” he stopped himself sharply.  “Muggleborn you were always following around.  From what I hear she married someone else.  Can't say as I blame her.”

“You-” Snape’s face was white with rage.

“Don’t bother Regulus,” Sirius said, “Severus here has never had a thousand galleons in his life.”

Snape sent both of them vicious glares before stalking out of the room.  There was a long silence until Iset said, “Always great to see old schoolmates, right?”

Several people laughed and the tension was broken.  Iset moved to Regulus’ side.  Running her hand down his arm, she gave him a look that said ‘don’t worry about him’.  He didn’t care about Snape’s opinion of him, it had never been very important.  His eyes moved around the room.  He was more worried about the fact that he had almost called Lily Evans a mudblood in front of most of The Order of the Phoenix.  However, no one seemed ready to accost him, so he relaxed a bit.

“Let’s go,” Regulus said quietly.  “We’ll have some wine upstairs.”

“Let’s go,” Iset said with a smile. Keep reading on AO3

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Pool side shenanigans; Brian May x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Okay everyone along with this being a request, I wanted this to be done by today because in honor of our beloved Brian May’s birthday, I have a fic to present to all of you. So to the anon who requested this lovely platonic fic with Brian May, I hope you enjoy it and also BIG shout out to the man himself, Happy Birthday Brian May I hope you had a great one and just know that you are always loved and an inspiration not just as a musician, scientist or animal activist, but also what being a human being is. You are a true star and we don’t deserve you. Happy 72nd Birthday Brian Harold May :)

Queen Taglist:

@geek-and-proud

@psychosupernatural

@queendeakyy

@waddles03

@plethora-of-things

@coolcxt

@ixchel-9275

____________________________________________________________

It was 1975 at Ridge farm studios.  It was probably the hottest day of the summer and I could barely take the heat any longer. If you’re wondering who I am, I’ll tell you. The name’s (y/n) (l/n), I’m 16 years old and you could call me Queen’s official ‘roadie/makeup artist/mini-groupie’.  I’ve known the band since I was nine years old since my older brother Derek has been with the band since the beginning.

He’s real close with the band since he’s responsible for helping Deacy with his amp, even having a little cocktail bar installed behind it for his performances. And since my brother is close friends with all four guys, that made me close with them.  But even by being close with them, I always found myself drawn more towards Brian.

I’ve always had a fascination with the guitar and always wanted to play it, and the first time I saw Brian play, I was just in awe of what he could do.  It was like his fingers moved independently from each other and just molded with the guitar.  During one rehearsal I was spying observing him and just fell under the spell of the sounds that his famed Red Special made, I was so entranced that he had caught me watching him.

Now I wasn’t quite as close to the guys just yet at that point in time, so I shyly hid under behind all the crates and amps hoping that he didn’t see me, but he did. He talked to me and of course being that age standing before an upcoming rockstar being born I was a bit intimidated but he talked to me, just like how my brother does.  He even let me touch and hold his Red Special and even gave me a mini-guitar lesson and showed me how he plays, and from that point on the rest is history.

As years went by, my brother taught me the ins and outs of what being a roadie technician is and how the amps work out and every summer I helped him out with Queen’s tours.  Now when it came to this trip for the boys to record their recent album “A Night at the Opera”, my brother had unfortunately came down with a really bad stomach flu so he said that I would have to go on my own.

Which was no problem with him because he knew I would take care of the boys and help them out with whatever they needed me to do.  And of course all 4 band members equally agreed that they wanted me on the trip.  So after awhile of recording, we all now relocated here at Ridge farm studios to just relax and take the time off before heading back to Rockfield.

Now with it being summertime, the summers here in England get pretty hot.  I was in the pool along with Deacy just simply talking as we lounged on those pool beds that float, while Fred and Rog were goofing around trying to dunk each other in the water.

“When’s Bri gonna come out?” I asked.

“He said he’d come out whenever he got done checking his thesis.” Answered Deacy.

“But even a brain like his needs rest.”

“Ohh love face it, when Brian gets too involved with his studies, nothing’s gonna change his mind.” Freddie proclaimed as he had dunked Rog under the water before taking away the inner tube they were both fighting over, that was until he was pulled under the water and Roger now came through the tube as Fred now came back up for air only to see his prize taken away.

“Well good thing he always falls for me. Watch and learn boys.” I got out of the pool and dried myself off as best as I could and headed back towards the house.

Inside I saw Brian in the dining room with the portable fan on its highest setting and all around the table were papers and astrophysics books scattered around. Brian was sweating from the heat and I swore I could see smoke coming out of his ears and see the gears in his head working as he was editing his thesis.  I quietly walked up to him and just wrapped my arms around him and leaned my head up against his.

“Hey (y/n).” he said.

“How’s the thesis going?” I asked.

“Slowly but surely. Just found out there’s some points that I didn’t quite backup enough so I’m having to rewrite certain structures of it.”

“Uh-huh, and what’s your paper about again?”

“Interplanetary stardust. My thesis revolves around the radical velocities in zodiacal dust.” I just nodded along pretending to understand what it was he was talking about.

“Well I can clearly see the gears turning in your head, and I think I even see smoke coming out of your ears.”

“Ha-ha. Now what exactly do you want (y/n)?”

“Come take a break Brian. You’ve been working so hard lately not just with this but I’ve also seen you writing more songs for the album. Take a break Bri and come out and have a nice swim with us, please?”

“I’ll join in later (y/n), I promise okay.”

“But—”

“Bo buts. Now please leave.” I pouted as he went back to his work but I refused to leave.  If there’s anything you need to know about me, it’s that I’m too stubborn for my own good. And I don’t leave until I get what I want.  

I walked back toward him and just leaned up against his back, lying my head against his curls.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Has anyone told you your hair is like a fluffy pillow?” I teased.  I buried my face into it, allowing his curls to tickle my cheek and nose.

“It would seem you’re the first one to tell me that.” He said.

“And I actually get to brag to Derek about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That I’m the first person ever to actually see what the top of Brian May’s hair is like. And it’s even floofier on top.” I wrapped my arms further around him and said, “C’mon Bri please. I’ll be your best friend.”

“You already are my best friend.”

“Just please take a break, you’re the one always telling me to take a break when I get stressed out from school. Want my advice, take a lesson from your book and know that if you keep going like this at this rate, you’ll only make yourself sick.” I quoted him using my best Brian impersonation while bopping his nose much like how he always does it with me.

He turned to look at me and I tilted my head at him giving him my best puppy dog pout.

“C’mon Bri.” He just stared at me and then I upped up the antic by saying sadly, “Okay then. I guess I’ll just go back out and be lonely. Maybe die of heatstroke because now I don’t want to swim with anyone but my favorite queen member.” I began to walk away from him when I heard him say.

“Alright love, you win. I’ll be out in a second.” I smirked and walked right out of the house but it wasn’t until I got out of the house that I had a spring in my step.

Works every time.

As I returned to the pool with a confident stride I proclaimed.

“Hello children.”

“So I assume by the walk, you managed to convince him?” Deacy said.

“Hook, line and sinker every time.” I said smugly as I got back on my innertube bed. “Guilt trip works like a charm. I’m so clever I even amaze myself.”

It was a few minutes later and I was the only one still lying on a innertube bed while the boys were going off on the diving board, mainly Rog and Fred were trying to outdo the other one in dives or flips.  As Roger managed to do a backflip I shook my head and muttered.

“Show off.” I rested my head back against the ‘pillow’ portion of my bed when suddenly I felt myself being flipped over.  I let out a shriek as I was now underwater.  I came up for air and I said as I turned towards them.  “Alright Rog! What was that about?”

“What are you talking about (n/n)?”

“Don’t pretend I know that was you who flipped me over!”

“Love I may play some pranks on you but that wasn’t me.” He reasoned with me.

“It’s true darling, the minute you flipped over, he had come up from his back flip, how could he get from there to here so fast?” Freddie questioned.  Okay so if Roger was just coming up from where he dove, Freddie was at the diving board as well as Deacy, wait that means……

Suddenly I felt something grab my waist and pull me underwater once more.  I opened my eyes and I saw the familiar face of Brian.  He took me over towards the innertube bed and I came up for air coughing out while his eyes and nose peeked out of the water staring right at me.

“Not cool Brian! Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to disturb a girl on an innertube bed?” It was then he did something I never thought he do.  My mentor, rock god of the guitar, astrophysicist Brian May actually spat water in my face like a whale breaching the surface.  “Oh you are so dead!”

It then turned into a water fight, splashing each other in the face laughing and roughhousing like children.  This continued on for a few more minutes until finally Brian had me trapped in his arms and he said.

“You surrender?”

“Fine, but not because of you. It’s only cause I’ve tired and I really want this tube off of my head.” Brian then flipped it off of us and he released me and I swam back towards the tube and got back on it.  “What was that all about Bri?”

“Well how else was I supposed to get back at you for interrupting my work?” I sighed and said.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted you to finally have a chance to relax. I know how hard you work and with this heat I figured you’d want to relax. Heat and hardworking brains don’t mix too well together.”

“I know you meant well love. And I thank you for it. Guess I got a taste of my own medicine after all the years I’ve got on you about stressing out over your own classwork.” He ruffled my wet hair and I slide off the tube and swam out towards the diving board to show these old guys what real diving is all about.

For the rest of the day it was hanging by the poolside, cold glasses of tea or water and just talking by the poolside.  By nightfall, while everyone was inside for the night, Brian and I had a scheduled a stargazing party for two.

We were ‘camped’ out just a few yards away from the house past the pool out to a wide greenery passage with a clearing of the sky, just barely underneath where the moon was.

“So you see (y/n) if you’re wanting to know where the brightest star in the sky is, just turn toward the Canis major constellation and there you will find Sirius.”

“Ohh, see I was told Betelgeuse was the brightest star by a friend of mine.”

“No that’s the 9th brightest star.”

“Well some astronomer he’s going to be, luckily for me I’ve got the best one I know.” I praised as I snuggled up closer to him.  He chuckled softly and stroked down my hair and kissed the top of my forehead.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What’s what?”

“I know that face anywhere, you’re thinking about something that’s making you depressed. So c’mon love out with it.” I sighed and said.

“It’s just—” I tried to find the right words.  Lucky for me Brian’s always so patient with me, while Derek would be telling me about now to just let it out and fess up.  “Well all my friends have officially decided on what they’re gonna do after graduation. Astronomy, biologist, teacher, librarian. All those important jobs, as for me I—I’ve got no clue on what I want to do with my life. I don’t even know what to study.”

“What does your heart tell you?” I looked up at him and asked,

“What’s my heart gotta do with choosing a major?”

“It’s what you’re interested in. Whatever passion you have, your heart will help determine what you want to do.”

“I—I don’t know. And it gets worse cause my parents are always hounding me about getting a better education and me away from this job since my brother chose not to go to college and just worked for a living at an autoshop before meeting you guys.”

“Believe me love I’ve been there before. My mum wanted me to be a surgeon and my father wished for me to have a career that would support me. He’s still peeved about me being in a band, thinking it isn’t doing anything for me.”

“Yeah, my dad’s the same way with Derek.”

“But listen love, I know you’ll find something to study. I know you’re a good story writer. Remember those short stories you would read out loud to me when you were first starting off secondary school?” I nodded and said.

“But I don’t know if mum and dad would approve of me being a writer. Most English majors think you’ll end up being a teacher and I suck at explaining shit to people.”

“Hey, first of all language. And second you are smart. You’re probably the most clever girl I will ever meet in my whole life. Now repeat after me. You are smart.”

“You are smart.” I mocked.  He glared down at me and said.

“Alright cheeky have it your way.” Suddenly he began to tickle my sides.

“Wah no!! Noo Brian not…..not that stohahahp!”

“Then say it.”

“Okay! Okay I’m smart! I’m smart!” he finally stopped leaving me breathless. “I am so gonna make Derek regret ever telling you guys that I was ticklish. You guys are sadists when it comes to tickling. Especially you and Deacy.”

“Ohh come off it darling, we only do it because we love you so much.”

“Yeah, too much.”

“Never enough.” He said as he nuzzled his nose against mine. I smiled softly and rubbed my nose against his as well, giving each other Eskimo kisses. “In all seriousness though love, you can be whatever you want to be. It doesn’t matter how long it takes you to figure it out, so long as it makes you happy. And that’s all we ever want from you.”

“Thanks Bri. And I don’t mean just for this but for everything. You’ve taught me so much and—I don’t think I can ever pay you back.”

“There’s no need love. I’m just glad I got the chance to meet you that day, what was it seven years ago?” I nodded and he said, “And it has been my honor to see you grow into a smart, strong young woman. And I know you’re going to do great things love.”

“So will you Bri, I just know Queen’s going to be known by everyone after this album takes off, and I’m just lucky to see the four men behind the masks and see who they really are. And I’m proud to also call them my family.”

“And we’re proud to call you ours.” He brought me close to his chest and kissed the top of my head and the two of us remained outside stargazing throughout the night until the dawn came to greet us.

[robot-unicorn-attack]

CHAPTER 02 - NYX

Taglist: @ayzrules​ @bebemoon​ @jay-swagsby​ @interluxetumbra @now-on-elissastillstands @shiftyprincess  @kzombi3 @filthysoulls (written by @kzombi3)

To say that she was excited would be an understatement.

The morning of the first race of the season came upon Team Nyx faster than expected. After the fiasco at Neon Demon and her "confrontation" with Len Widowmaker, in the eyes of the public and what press was present, they had a field day and ate it up. Spinning it into something much bigger and drama laced than it really was.

It's not like the two of them had never had a spat before. Especially in public - she was the villain after all - but it just rubbed Sol the wrong way. Particularly because she really missed her one and only true friend. Still misses.

So, for the last few days after the incident leading up to the day of the race, Allryn's been running around playing firefighter - trying to squash anything that would tilt the scale of the judges and more importantly LAZER before the race. Not that he needed too. Again; villain.

So when Allryn burst through the apartment door, expecting to have to drag the, typically drunk, dark beauty from her bed he was shocked and albeit surprised to find her curled in the window space that overlooked the skyline with a holoscreen opened in front of her. The manufactured glow from the holoscreen reflected off her eyes as they quickly scanned the ever moving tabs that she was throwing around. Making it look as though those cat like eyes of hers were blinking, even when they weren't.

Being as laser focused as she was, no pun intended, she didn't even register the other body that was making it's way towards her in the early morning light that was beginning to fill her spacious loft. Allryn continued to call out to her as he made his way towards her, trying to make his presence known before giving up and just marching up to her. He didn't have time for this. Neither did she for that matter.

Sol absolutely hates it when he sneaks up on her, so what better way to get her attention other than when she's spiting venom at him for scaring her?

"Solana." A last ditch effort resulted in improved results as he poked her bare shoulder. Turning faster than any robot unicorn could, Sol whipped her head in his direction while simultaneously jumping 10 feet in the air and pulling a small black bud from her ear.

"ACK! Allryn you motherfucker!" her chest was heaving as she placed a hand trying to calm herself. The smug asshole was just laughing, clutching his sides as he bent over. Standing back up to full height he wiped the small tears that gathered in the corner of his eyes and tried to catch his breath.

"Ahh, that was well deserved."

"I'm glad you got some enjoyment outta me after all." She cooed from her spot, still curled up and still focused on the screen in front of her. The artificial light was beginning to fade as the sun light streaming in became more prominent.

A small pout took root on his face, though it's not like Sol took notice. "New playlist?" A hum was all the response he received. Sighing he took a seat in the plush chair next to her and took one of her legs and draped it over his lap. A common position that they would find themselves when the atmosphere around them was comfortable as it was in this moment.

"You know you're going to have to start sleeping before races."

"It's never been a problem before. Why break tradition?" Another sigh from the agent.

"It's not good for you. And with the shit stirring up between you and Eleni-," that earned him a quick glare over the top of the screen, "Hey, it's the press' words - not mine," he threw his hands up in defense.

 It grew silent once more. Not as comfortable but still there. "How's Caelia?"

"She's great. Really great actually." A large smile broke through his tough exterior and Sol couldn't help mimicking him.

"And the pregnancy?" at that he might as well have combusted with light he was so animated.

Sol couldn't help it, she was sucked into this vortex of good news as Allryn went on and on about how the baby was growing stronger inside his mother's womb. So much so that Sol saved and downloaded all the music she had been searching for and turned it all off to sit and listen to him ramble on. Happiness oozing from him and thus being absorbed by her.

---

A few hours later and Vespa and Asteria arrived, along with a cheery Eleos to stand guard outside the apartment. Sol rolled her eyes and told him to at least guard from inside. "At least be comfortable," she had commanded. Eleos wasn't one to deny the comfort of a couch and some reading material. Honestly, it's not like she really needs to tell him with how long they've known each other. He just likes to hear that she's concerned. Even if she won't admit it out loud.

As her team flit about her, having thrust many an energy drink into her well manicured hands, they got to work stylizing her in iconic Nyxian garb. Making sure to start with her protective gear first underneath the hyper styled mesh and leather ensemble. Unlike the first time.

Vespa got to work on accentuating those piercing orbs of hers - the gold and black around the eyes really stood out against her attire and she stood back pleased with her work. Claiming it's her finest yet, "That's what you say every time," Asteria called from behind Sol as she made sure the pieces were tailored to perfection.

"So? I'm fuckin' da vinci when it comes to painting faces. Just look at mine baby."

---

The trip to the track was filled with more energy shots to keep her awake, laughter and scripts for what to do, what to say, how to say it etc. etc. The same old, same old. Sol remembers back to her first race and how LAZER force fed her lines through a bug in her ear to make sure she played up her role as the baddest bitch in the industry. After a few lines she ignored their prompting and took the reigns. Ever since no one can deny that that title is still hers to command.

It pulls at her ego, inflating it somewhat - OK a lot - but nevertheless tugs her lips into a genuine smile of pride. She's the one who has got her this far. The only thing she can attribute to LAZER is the opportunity and Uuie.

---

Pulling up to the track went about as expected. Regardless of how early she decided to show up, there was always going to be the paparazzi and press, along with the die-hard fans of course. Sol definitely played up her persona when she stepped out of the aircar, Eleos holding the door and reaching out to take her hand in attempt to help her. She took it like she always does and shot him a "scathing" look that to others looks very on brand for the villainess, but was just an inside joke between the two.

"Nyx! Nyx! Nyx! Nyx!" the crowd chanted loudly. So loud she almost couldn't hear the burning questions that were thrust into her face by the reporters.

"Nyx, who are you wearing?!"

"Nyx what is your srategy for this race?"

"How's it feel to have the home advantage?"

"What's the scoop going on between you and your teammate, Widowmaker?"

"We haven't heard your side of the story! And Widowmaker isn't talking to anyone either!"

"C'mon give us something to work with!"

Allryn was two steps in front of her at all times, pushing others out of the way in order for them to be able to walk through - however, no one made a motion to lay a finger on the Goddess of Darkness. At least no one outside of her masochistic following. Though they probably wanted to.

Turning on a dime when she got to the doors leading into the main hall of the stadium, she spoke in her most dastardly voice, "You'll just have to keep your eyes on the track then, won't you?"

---

Inside was no different as some press with VIP privileges bombarded her with a few questions themselves. The one that stuck out the most was something she was used to hearing. Having the reputation of being someone who sabotages others for the sake of having fun as well as a potential upper hand has always loomed over her. Though it's not like they would be completely wrong. All rumors start with a little truth, don't they?

"Nyx, here early to sabotage some competitors rides?" The question was followed by a group of laughter from the surrounding area. Not like it could be true, right?

A well placed grin and piercing eyes, "Me? Never~" A purr on her lips.

And with that she continued on her way to the stalls where she was able to visit and tinker with Uuie before the race would begin. Not to mention she'd been hearing through the whisperings of others that a certain spider was lurking about. Spinning webs that she definitively wants to get caught up in.

---

Once inside the stalls she glances around quickly for the one she truly wants to see and comes up short. A defeated sigh rings out as she makes her way to Uuie, the skeletal grin of his makes her heart jump in excitement as she begins to think about jumping onto his back and riding outta this place.

"Hello my beautiful, spooky boi~" she scratches - or rather, rubs her hands quickly, up and down the front of his long face. His eyes, er, rather lights, flash and blink like a real horses and she's taken back to when she was younger and a very headstrong Len berated her for thinking that these robotic creatures were anything less than alive. Having worked with machines her whole life it was hard to see past the gears and gas, oil and pistons. But ever since that night she's held a different outlook on the mechanical beasts.

His pistoned legs shifted as his weight did and Sol was dragged from her trip down memory lane. "Hey, hey now. Don't worry. I haven't forgotten~" she sang as she dug around the drawers and cabinets in her stall bay. Rummaging through all the excess parts and cans of oil and grease she let out a squeal of discovery. "Just gotta hook it up and… VOILA!" Noise and tempo began to pulse through the air in waves, finding a home within Sol's body and she couldn't help but twist and curve around as she began to dance to the music. Uuie must have been cut from the same cloth as her because he enjoyed music just as much. But it wasn't always the case.

When they were first introduced he was a little wary of the black beauty. She did run up to him and throw her arms around a skeletal beast. What kind of normal being does that? It was then that they realized how similar and weird the other one was. Their first meeting was a time trial run, something LAZER was adamant about conducting. So there they were in the stall bays getting tuned up - Sol refused to let anyone work on him other than herself - and she had music softly playing. Uuie must have enjoyed the beat because as she was greasing up the gears he began to tap his hooves to rhythm. It's been tradition ever since.

As she's bouncing around, she misses the door opening to area, but snaps at attention when it shuts with a very metallic clang. Her eyes lock onto the being she most looked forward to seeing and her heart flutters in her chest and she wants to run and tackle her, but knows that that's not the best idea, given the circumstances of location. Not to mention she'd ruin her attire and she can only imagine all the shit she'd garner from Asteria and Allryn. She shudders at the thought.

She settles for a large, wide grin and continues to tinker with Uuie, hands moving deftly as if she were born to do this. Which, she kinda was. Oils probably runs through her veins more so than blood at this point. Mouth moving in sync with every word that comes through the airway.

Void whinnies and she smiles a little, picturing Len stroking her side. The small pony wall truly separating their view from one another, especially at the crouched position Sol finds herself in. After the finishing touches to Uuie, she sneaks her way into Len's bay, bumping her hip with the latter, causing her to jolt and drag her out of her thoughts.

"Loosen up, Leni~" she coos, dancing around her, "You look like you're going to a funeral," and she wasn't blind to the twitching at her lips. Not because she was staring at Len's mouth or anything… definitively… not…

Having known each other for so long, it was inevitable that they would develop their own sort of language. It was also bound to happen that with close proximity and Sol being, well, Sol, that the amount of arguments would have been quite a lot. So, in their own little language they developed different ways of apologizing. Not that either of them did of course. No, never. But, in the off chance that one needed to, there was always a sort of manner of which they would. Sol's just happens to be inserting herself in the other's company and spouting off nonsense, in a way of making Leni more comfortable. Her tone and actions always held good intentions so it was pretty easy to pick up on Leni's perspective.

"There is a significant chance I might be," she had quipped back doing that head tilt thing that made Sol swoon. It was just too fucking cute and very on brand with soft Leni from their childhood. The one that likes to get drunk and lean on Sol. One of Sol's favorites. She was so entranced she almost didn't hear her speak again about the ravines being difficult.

Sol can help but let out a cackle that's too on the line to be discernible from Sol or Nyx - but she prays that her friend knows the difference. She seems to with the stare she's giving Sol. "Like you and Void have anything to worry about~" she sang before the song changed to one that makes the list of Len's annoyances. But she doesn't seem to notice, or at least mention it. So, Sol sings along. Any response from Len is a good response in her book.

And the reaction that is elicited from Len is one that Sol did not expect. The short haired spider sings the words under her breath and something in Sol swells with giddiness. "You know the words," she breaths out and hopes to all gods that it came out sounding more leveled than it was.

Leni's gaze turns to her, a brow raised and tone that tries to mask the little playfulness that's clearly there, "I've certainly heard you play the song enough. How is your hearing still that sharp anyways? With how loud you play your music I thought you would've blown out your eardrums by now."

Another cackle but this time laced with a squeal of delight as she claps her hands together, "You filthy liar! You've always gone on and ooooon about how much you hate this song!" She giggles and throws her arms around Uuie neck, nuzzling into his neck. "I thought I would never see the day~"

---

Eventually it was time to begin. Flame showed up in all her flashiness, appeasing to the crowd as the newest and fan favorite. 'For now' Sol thought bitterly. It wasn't like she didn't like the new blood on the contrary, she liked her a lot. She just didn’t like the threat she posed to Nyx of potentially "over throwing" her…

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she pushed on wards. The cheering of the crowd rumbled through the stadium, shaking the stands with the motion of the spectators as they stomped and shook the railings separating them from the track below. The air around them rumbled deep into her bones and she wasn't quite sure if it was the heat from the world around her or from the mechanical beasts that were lined up that caused her  blood to boil over with excitement.

Eye scanning the other racers already at the line and ready, Sol's intense gaze caught the floral presence of Aura, who avoided any and all eye contact with Lava worlder. It would have hurt her feelings had she cared enough but she just smugly placed a well to do smirk that the crowd's cheered for when the hovercams caught it, broadcasting the event to blast on the jumbo-tron screens for all to witness.

"… the ever wicked villainess Nyx in all her glory, with U-800 ready to strike-" the announcer's voice is drowned out by the raucous noise reverberating around her as Sol continues to stare around at the other racers - searching for her latest victim. Ah, there… poor sap, a no name from the citadel above the clouds. She was given explicit directions to not target any of the Big Three, for fear of having a swarm of lawyers crawl up LAZER's ass. And that was just something they could not have. However, whatever happens on the track as a result of her interference can't be faulted to her, or more importantly, LAZER.

So, she may or may not have had a hand in the tweaking of a horse or two. Maybe.

As she walked with Uuie to the start of the line, she made a subtle pass to the tubing in his exposed neck, where his audible sensors were, and tapped a small button there. This allowed Uuie to experience tunes at a very low and soft volume while he raced. Just another idiosyncratic habit the two of them formed over the years. Sol and Uuie, together on the track listening to whatever beat seemed appropriate for the moment.

Sol did however roll her eyes when she caught sight of Leni strapping into her helmet. It was something that didn't sit well with her. Something strange when she learned about all the safety equipment that went into the races upon signing onto a company. Years of running tracks and races without a care in the world, getting seriously injured, like that's part of what makes the races so alluring. It's one of the reasons that called out to Sol in the first place. Her and Leni would always berate the other when either one returned with new cuts and bruises or broken bones, doting on each other, nursing them back to health. Kissing it to make it better. She lived for those little moments.

Though she may roll her eyes at the idea of the helmet, she was so relieved to know that Leni would be safe, cranial wise cause she always knew if she was wearing one while on the tracks. Not to mention she was easy to spot. Aside from her other … assets. Sol tried her hardest to fight the sentimental smile that threatened to spill outwards as she looked at the helmet Widow was sporting. The design was only suppose to be a joke as they sat together drinking at Leni's place. The horns really tied into her Demon persona and Sol joked that it was because she was "Clever as the Devil and twice as gorgeous~"

Standing there as the stoic warrior she is Leni takes a glance at Sol, and through her holo-fitted helmet, she winks at her with eyes that burn with excitement of what is about to take place. Widow nods and even though she can't see her now covered face, she hopes that it has at least relaxed a bit. 'She's no good when she's tense~' Sol muses to herself.

 Climbing atop Uuie's frame gets easier and easier every time and like all the times before, they seem to just … fit. Like missing puzzle pieces. So snug and fitted that it's natural. His lightening mane illuminates her face and features, catching in her molten eyes that match the terrain around them. She can't wait to get this party started. And then, she didn't have too.

---

"The actual fuck?!" Sol snarls as she removes her invisible helm and chucks it into a cart stocked with spare parts and grease rags. Resulting in it crash to the concrete ground below, startling the retainer horses in their bays and stalls.

Quickly storming around the bay area she continued her tirade never once faltering in her anger. "I'm gonna blow up the judges' car." It wasn't a question. Nor was it something that could be swayed from her mind. It was a promise.

"No, Sol." Leni had been right on her heels since the final scores were announced. It was comforting to have her there with her as she was spewing curses at the lot of them. Though, she would have thought she was on her side with this. Leni was just as pissed. Sol could see it in her posture, the way she carried herself. And years with this woman has given her a leg up on everyone when it came to reading Eleni Landry like a book.

"Why not?!" She throws her arms out wide nearly clipping Leni's face as she did so. "What kind of fucking judgement was that? That was bullshit! We had the fastest time, and they put some RISE bitch and the fucking hoity toity Snow Queen at the top? I'm gonna fucking do it. I'm gonna-" though her rantings were cut off by Leni yanking her backwards by the cuff of her top and drags her into an empty room.

A look of seriousness flashes in her eyes as she stares down Sol, "You are not going to blow up the judges' aircars."

"But-"

"Not their shuttles, either."

It was almost comical to see the mighty goddess plop to the ground in all her regalia, and pout because she didn’t get her way when it came to causing collateral damage to those that wronged her. "Leni~" She whines, "that was so-fucking-unfair-," a groan slips past her lips smacking at the floor as if that was going to convince the spider to let her blow something up.

Leni just tightly folded her arms across her leather clad chest, pacing in circles around Sol as she continued to spout off different plans of mass property damage. "They were so clearly biased! They fucking cheated us! We should have been the winners!" Another groan and she went to tug at the ends of her hair.

"You were the fastest on the track, no injuries on our part! I don't understand, Leniiiiiii! Whyyyyy~" She made as if she were going to sob from the frustration.

"We should have won," Sol's ears perked up at the sound of her lover's voice in a tightly wound tone. She was about to go on about how much she agrees with her friend when the spider continued about how there must be something for them to do, how to spin it to emphasize their placements, where they stand.

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down, Leni, fucking stars. Fucking spin?" She huffed blowing one of the stray strands of hair outta her face. It was her own fault for pulling at it. "Who are you, Allryn? Since when did you care so much about winning a race?" She leaned forward to rest her arms across her knees, mumbling about how the winning portion was never a concern for her friend before but ya know, do you. Sol was way more preoccupied with more important business, like cutting a bitch.

Leni was still pacing circles around the angry black woman and more than once Sol would catch a hand twitch here and there. She would never bring it up to her unless she believed there to be a more serious cause other than angry jitters. But it had to be more than that, right? Leni doesn't just all of a sudden start caring about winning or losing races. Not at the drop of a hat. And especially doesn't talk about "spinning stories" for any type of gain. Sol doesn’t care if it's spider like or not. Leni's always been a straight shooter, well, relatively. Shit, the woman couldn't stand to know about Sol and her family's business so she would conveniently be busy elsewhere. There's even a few times where Sol is dead ass convinced that Leni called the cops on a location where Sol was meant to procure some materials. She's a fucking Robin Hood.

"OH! I could drug 'em with some synth and then watch as they go fucking insane over their poor decisions. Sneak on board their aircars and get their addresses and then strike 'em at home?! And I'm saying, I could do it, personal security systems are jack shit on those aircar models, so - Len? Leni? Are you even listening to me?"

Sol's voice must have cut through a deep thought as she witnessed Leni physically shake herself back to the present. "Don't. You can't do that."

"I absolutely can," Sol was about to go on the defensive and then it would just be another Neon Demon all over again. But the look that Leni's got across her face makes her think twice about that. There's something going on and she's going to find out.

"What the hell is wrong, Leni? What was so important about this race? You look scared and-,"

The moment was shattered when the doors opened with a clatter and Leni jumped in Sol's grasp, eyes darting to the source of the noise. LAZER agents come to grab their prized meal tickets. Their presence only served to fuel Sol's ire as she was still fired up about the outcome of the race and then for the fact that they were interrupting their moment. Not to mention, their arrival didn't seem to make Leni relax in the slightest only served to solidify to Sol that there was something more going on here.

"OUT!" The snarl that ripped from Sol did nothing to deter Allryn, however the woman just looked away and with a clear of her throat announced that they had post-race interviews to conduct in a few minutes. With a sigh, Sol stood from her seated floor position with ease and closed the gap between the two of them. Gently holding onto either side of Leni's face. Their faces mere centimeters, breath intermingling with one another. Sol rested her forehead to hers. She wanted to hold her forever, to reassure her that she was always here and always will be. But Leni isn't the type to get all mushy and tends to reject that Sol when she comes on too strong with the lovey dovey crap.

But it was as if Leni could read her mind, because in an instant, she pulled away and pressed her lips to Sol's cheek. Breath tickling her ears, "I'm fine." She was able to muster. And in that moment she knew she was being lied to. But she enjoyed the warmth that flowed through her at the contact. Something she's craved for what feels like eons.

So when she reached out to keep Len from walking away, she wrapped her arms around her. The leather jacket Leni wore, crinkled and gave under the embrace. And she smelled the same as she does every time they're together. Smoke and gas and leather and sweat and justice. It lasted only a moment and it was over just as quickly as it happened.

She slips the paper she's been carrying since the Neon incident into her slacked hand before straightening out and steadying herself before walking into the interview. Head held high, body swaggered like the Villain should be.

Lights flashed before her and all she could think about is the woman in the other room, and how she misses everything about her. From the way her skin feels under her touch, legs tangled up with one another, laughing about nothing and sitting on a roof as they watched the sky dance around them. Racing without a care in the world, dangers around every corner. Sol coming to Leni when Frankenstein fell on her and broke her arm and the big tough warrior of justice taking care of her.

Sol misses Leni and everything she represents for her.

                                                                                         - home.

[seasaltmemories]

You Say You Wanna Go to Heaven, But You’re Human Tonight

Rating: T

Summary: And so, Alm added idolatry to the list of his sins.

~

The morning after Duma was slayed, Celica rose at dawn to pray.

The first time, Alm saw this, he had wondered if in her half-awaken haze she had somehow forgotten the events of yesterday.  Such a theory might sound crazy at first glance, but some mornings he imagined himself back in Ram Village.  Memories took a long time to die, so rather than inflict her any pain, he had faked slumber and let her go along her day, before “properly” waking up himself.

In time, he thought, they would both learn to accept the present.  Morning lies always faded away in the afternoon’s bright light.

But as the days turned into weeks and then months, still she continued to pray.  Ignorance nor denial could explain her actions.  She spoke of Mila’s and Duma’s demise with as much certainty as anyone else. Yet as busy as they were with rebuilding Valentia, she continued to find time to converse with those who would never answer her.

It would have been easy to write it off as madness, a quirk she had picked up to survive.  Most of them had strange habits of their own--like how Mathilda always carried a knife up her sleeve, even when the battlefield was far away and she was decked in her court finery, or how Valbar refused to be placed anywhere besides the front-lines, even when he looked ready to pass out from so much marching in his heavy army.  Everyone found their own way to cope, and the polite thing to do was turn away and pretend you didn’t notice anything.

But then Alm’s own idiosyncrasies made that difficult to do.  Like a voyeur, stealing away a moment of intimacy, he woke early to spy on her prayers.  He never let on that he was awake, rather he silently studied her closed eyes and clasped hands, searching for the method to it all.

It seemed faith had little to do with the gods themselves.

It wasn’t as if Alm had ever disliked religion.  Growing up, he had done everything expected of him: attended every religious holiday with a proper tribute of wool in tow, said his prayers to thank Mila for the year’s harvest, even as they dwindled with each famine.  But unlike Faye, whose eyes had sparkled with purpose when she had donned the clock and pledged herself to be Mila’s personal tool, Alm had never been able to understand such devotion.  He couldn’t give himself up for a being he had never even seen before.

The hypocrisy didn’t escape him.  It was because of Duma’s blessing, Valentia had deemed him their Saint-King.  Without Mila’s mercy, he would have been powerless to save Celica, forced to kill her by his own hand.  However it was those very boons that caused him to chafe against the concept.  Because if Duma had cursed him with his dying breath, if Mila had deemed Celica a proper sacrifice that must be made, was he supposed to have just step aside and bend to their will?  Was he supposed bleed himself dry for creatures whose talons had shed so much blood in the first place?

Even if the gods hadn’t been mad, hadn’t deserved to finally have some peace, he knew he would have slaughtered them still if it meant saving the life of one of his loved ones.  He couldn’t understand Celica having done the near opposite.  When they had discussed such matters in the dead of night, huddled together and whispering secrets against the other’s skin, her words might as well have been spoken in another language.

“Of course I rather live a long and happy life, but Valentia is much bigger than just you and me.”  Her red curls had tickled the crook of his neck and she settled in.  “It’s our birthright to take care of it.  My one life was hardly a price if it had really meant peace would return.”

There was no point in arguing with her when the matter was all said and done, but despite their physical closeness she seemed so far away in that moment--so virtuous and good that she was untouchable.  And later on it seemed as if he wasn’t the only one to feel this way.  Already many former clergy members had taken to preaching her as Mila incarnated as a human.  While most days he was glad for her, during lonely, selfish nights the devil inside would want to cut her wings, pin her to the earth, and never let her go.

“She promised herself to me, and me alone!  I’m sorry, world, but you can’t have her!”

Each time such a thought came to him, he followed the same routine.  He imagined himself picking up the thought, examining it thoroughly, and then locking it inside a black chest, never to be considered again.  Such a route was dangerous to travel, placing his love for his own desires over his love of Celica. Still whenever the box rattled and screamed, he cracked it open just one inch.  He allowed him to steal that one moment of privacy with what remained of the gods.

In the last week or so, Celica had finally scheduled a meeting with her new acolytes.  It was useful to have such loyal allies during a change in power, but it was tricky business to keep such a following from getting distorted into an actual cult.  Still it was the first time they had been separated from the war.  Despite knowing she was safe and doing important work, it was difficult to calm his nerves.

She was due to return in the early morning, so he tried to get some sleep.  Still he tossed and turned throughout the night, getting little rest.  He must have dozed at one point, because he ended up waking with a start when he heard the door to his quarters open.

“Hello, darling,” Celica whispered as she entered.  “I’m home.”

“Celica...what are you wearing?”  It was a pitiful response, bu  the outside light haloed her body provided just enough illumination for him to make out that she was wearing a saint’s garb.  Such a choice perplexed him so, he lost any greetings he might have offered up.

“It’s a long story, but the Church of the One Kingdom offered me a promotion,”  She padded across the room to sit at her dresser.  “Even though technically priestesses can’t qualify as saints...I must look ridiculous, don’t I?”

Ridiculous was far from the truth.  She looked radiant, holy, every bit of the heavenly angel they believed her to be.  It made his heart ache like nothing else.

“It’s late, so feel free to go back to sleep.  I’ll tell you about my day in the morning proper.”

“I’m not that tired, I don’t mind staying up longer.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t miss a thing.  I”ll make sure it’s the first thing I do.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Silence seized the two of them.  Shame compelled Alm to turn away.  He didn’t deserve to look at her after such a blasphemous slight, but there was some enthralling about the sight of her staring at him like that.  Celica had removed her makeup yet still remained gowned.  It was if she was caught between the divine and the earthly.

Slowly, she removed the pins from her hair.  It fell like a curtain across her shoulders.  “You’re right.  I guess I’ve gotten used to white lies in my time away.  The things they expect of me...”

“You’ve earned your stunning reputation though.”  Alm insisted.  “No matter how difficult it is, you’ll always choose the right choice.”

“I guess, absence truly makes the heart grow fonder.”  She undid the tassels flowing from her sleeves before taking off her gloves.  It was strange how much beauty seemed to linger in such a simple motion.  “Although we must be living proof of it.”

“There’s something tantalizing about what you can’t have.” He was trying not to concentrate on the heat pooling in his belly, but he couldn’t stop his breath from hitching as she unfastened her breastplate.  Still he could not look away.

“Where did you get the idea that I am not yours?”  Celica laughed. She made a show of sliding her hands down the curves of her body as she removed her skirts.  “You usually wear green with more grace.”

How odd.  He felt more like a heretic to be called out for his jealousy of the gods than he did after slaying them with his own hands.  “I’m just a fool chasing after a girl too important for his little dreams.  Didn’t stop to consider my competition until it was too late.”

“You of all people shouldn’t put me on a pedestal.”  She shucked the last of her clothes until only her small-clothes remained. “I’m too flawed to survive up there.”

“You don’t think you’ll resent me for dragging you down?”  You didn’t tame envy by fanning its flames, but oh if he could be allowed this moment of weakness.  She had already shed so much of her celestial exterior for him.  He didn’t want to be her world forever, only for this night.

Instead of responding, she slide off the last of her modesty.  From the foot of their bed, she crawled on all fours until she was perched in his lap.  Faintly her tongue traced the shell of his ear.  “As long as you know how to worship me properly.”

And so, Alm added idolatry to the list of his sins.

A.N. Religion is fascinating to me, especially in the context of Celica’s arc where her devotion remains yet she kills a god (and later gets imagined as one in her ending), I also for a dreamwidth event got challenged to write a story with a striptease in it, and this Bastille song has been in my head, so as usual I set about trying to weave together differing elements 

[jusdisslotus]

Attack on Stainglass #13: Clingy Brighton

http://fav.me/dchvr21

A blush from secondhand embarrassment began to spread, over the bridge of his nose when he saw that Thorn had removed his jean-jacket and his shirt as well, revealing his perfectly-sculpted abs. Thorn hissed lightly, in pain as he touched a hand to the black slime that was oozing from the obvious cut that was just, along the center of his diaphragm. With a sigh, Thorn picked, up his worn-out Bible and began to read from it.

Yeah sure, a pastor such as Thorn who doesn’t look like he works out and is rather wimpy throughout most of the story has “perfectly sculpted abs.” Just sounds like useless, no sense making fan service to me.

“I really don’t want anyone else to know about this but you, Lord…Brighton is already angry with me and if he finds out about this, he’ll just make fun of me and tell me that I deserve it…The others will grow to hate me as well…” Thorn’s eyes began to fill with thick, blackened tears as he struggled, desperately to keep them from spilling, over.

The fact that he’d think Brighton would say such a shitty thing to him proves my point even further on how the 2 aren’t compatible as friends and how it isn’t a believable friendship.

So now Brighton’s trying to hunt down the child to give him a beating or whatever and Monarch asks him what’s up.

“Do you remember how Thorn was coughing, earlier?” Monarch asked.

“Yeah, I remember his stupid, loud, annoyin’ coughin’! What about it?!” Brighton snapped.

“Well, I followed Thorn to see if I could discover the source of his strange coughing-fits and well…I think he may have The Sludge…” Monarch worriedly informed him.

“The Sludge?” Brighton sounded momentarily concerned, even though Melania was currently unable to see the expression on his countenance due to the fact that his back was turned to her.

“Ah, whatever! He prob’ly just has The Sludge ‘cause he knows he screwed up!” Brighton scoffed as he turned to continue on his way, along the corridors.

“But Brighton, Thorn said this disease was serious!” Monarch exclaimed as he quickly sprinted, after Brighton. Melania gently turned her body to watch them leave as that all-too, familiar feeling of anger began to boil within her. She knew why Thorn had contracted The Sludge and she knew for a fact that Brighton had not been the one who was responsible for infecting him with it. Thorn and Brighton have gotten into petty arguments that were much worse than this one before and none of those prior disagreements were serious enough to give Thorn The Sludge. Besides, what friendship never had their petty differences?

“Relax, Q.-er…I mean, M. Thorn’s not entirely an idiot; he knows how to take care of himself. Once he quits bein’ stubborn and makes this all up to me, his little Sludge-problem will go bye-bye…” Brighton reassured.

Omg Thorn was right about what Brighton would say. God, Brighton’s such a petty bitch, his “friend” has this serious disease and all he cares about is Thorn “making it up to him”. Making it up to him?? Thorn doesn’t have to make up shit! It’s not Thorn’s fault that Brighton’s inept at being responsible and has to clean up the messes he made, Brighton’s so clingy and bitchy he’s UNBEARABLE.

The word: ‘Preach,’ was a word that had been unable to make Melania chuckle, beneath her breath for quite, some time but that word was such an ironic word that she could have ever used to describe the non-believing enemy to all.

Non-believing enemy? What’re you trying to get at here? What does being a non-believer have to do with anything?

http://fav.me/dcnfn0v

“The dark deed you’ve requested is done…Soon, all The Churches of the World will be destroyed…” A woman in a masquerade mask explained to Helva, Ian and Lainey. Behind the masked-woman, stood three, other, masked figures who were just as ominous as her.

“I don’t know…Something…just feels wrong about all this…I mean, we just went against everything we ever stood for to destroy someone else…” Helva sighed, beginning to have second thoughts about her actions.

“It’s just this one time…Anything will be worth it to destroy those bigots after what they did to our group…” Ian argued.

“That Church…They were different…They were never bigots…They openly accepted the L.G.B.T. Community with open arms…They never once tried to change any of them but we…we just slandered Thorn for not following the typical, Christian stereotype…” Helva finally began to realize the error of her ways.

“Helva, are you seriously thinking of backing out after they killed all of our friends? Your family members?” Ian reminded.

“You’re right…” Hela reluctantly agreed with Ian as she let out a sigh but she was still unable to shake the guilt she felt about going against someone who agreed with her on a certain topic. She had just contradicted herself by calling Thorn out for allowing gays as well as transgenders to attend his sermons without trying to change their minds at all, for teaching them about how God was a loving Father, Who accepted all of His children, no matter what. However, she proceeded to smother the guilt with the horrific memories of Brighton turning her cousins into nothing more than ashes that scattered away in the wind, before her eyes.

This is why I feel worse for Helva than any of the main protagonists. She has some sort of conscience, she thinks about her actions afterwards and actually feels some sort of guilt. Sure, it’s forced and it’s trying to make the church look good even though Thorn literally can’t help anyone that doesn’t convert and can’t even get anyone mature enough to watch the orphans but it still gives her more layers. And she ends up getting rid of the guilt by thinking about how Brighton murdered all of her friends and family in cold blood. She debates with herself and her thought process is sort of believable.

Aaaand then Melania supposedly vores her or something.

“Look at you…You truly are pathetic…That is why you go around destroying people’s lives…so you can have this entire, fallen planet as a ‘safe-space’ all to yourself…You think you are just so edgy but you are and always will be a pathetic, scared, spoiled, little child…Once I am through with you, The World really will be a safe-space…” Melania taunted Helva before turning her back to her to reveal the head of a Venus Fly-Trap that was protruding from the back of her head.

Melania’s smirk of satisfaction was hidden behind her paper-plate mask whilst she listened to the cries of Helva as her vine-tentacles pulled the struggling-girl into her new, second mouth.

Melania just looks like the villain here. She talks and acts like one in this scene and even gives a smug smirk like Brighton does. Yeah, I’m totally rooting for Maniac number 2 as she eats Helva while she screams and cries out.

“Finally caughtcha, ya little brat!” Bradly was horrified when he looked up to see Brighton standing over him. The blond appeared to be more furious than Bradly had personally ever seen him.

“You won’t come between me and my best-buddy anymore…” Brighton growled before running his index and middle fingers along his ruler.

“And Micheal, The Arch Angel struck him DEAD!” Brighton chanted as each number and line on his ruler began to glow.

“No! No! Please!” Bradly begged, on the verge of tears as Brighton raised his ruler, above his head in preparation to strike.

“Brighton! Stop!” Thorn shouted from across the hall, despite the endless amount of Sludge pouring from every exit-hole on his body. Brighton stopped in his tacks, dropping his ruler at the sight of how sick Thorn looked.

Is Brighton REALLY about strike a child DEAD because he got in the way of him and Thorn hanging out even though it’s Brighton’s fault he’s loose in the church? ARE WE SUPPOSED TO LIKE BRIGHTON OR NOT??? WHAT A CLINGY PIECE OF SHIT.

So then the kid calls them gay and cringey. The sludge makes Thorn snap and makes him yell at the kid, saying:

“The only thing that is ‘cringey’ is that your parents actually let a selfish, ungrateful, bratty, emo-wannabe, wall-eyed, giggling, stuttering, smirking, glass-smashing, DISEASE-RIDDEN abomination like you draw breath!”

“That’s right, I said it: Your parents should have been ProChoice because you do not deserve to breathe the same air as us, you filthy, pile of donkey ca-ca in human-form but yet, here you are, burdening us with your boondoggling!”

“If you’re so miserable, then just die! FIND A DARK HOLE TO CRAWL INTO AND DIE!”

And then Thorn drops unconscious

[memelordandsavior]

Klance Shippers Are Hypocrites And Romantic Sheith is Valid.

So let’s just dive right in and this is going to be long but bear with me. I’m covering all the bases. By now you’ve all heard about the nasty discourse surrounding Sheith due to season 6 and that scene.

“You’re my brother, I love you.”

This scene is huge because we finally understand what Shiro really means to Keith. Sheith fans have a lot to celebrate this season and they are, some fans have even joined the Sheith fandom due to season 6. But a lot of people also argue that Sheith is strictly platonic and familial due to “You’re my brother.” Some other’s have even gone to extremes with “it’s incest.” “Shiro adopted and raised him.” All of which are false. Keith is Krolia and Papa Keith’s only child and if there was a blood family relation, Shiro would’ve shown up in flashbacks with his family. Also let go of your hatred and look at baby Keith he’s so cute.

“It’s incest” is false.

Now to the “adopted and raised” thing. Listen. I’m 20 years old, I’m going to college and trying to get a job. NO ONE around my age, especially not younger, wants the responsibility of adopting and raising a kid and I doubt a 19-21 year old Shiro would either. It’s pretty clear what happened with Shiro and Keith’s backstory.

Shiro was a recruiter. Shiro did not adopt Keith. He recruited him.

Shiro came to Keith’s high school. By now Keith is already in a foster home being taken care of since his dad died when he was a lot younger than a teenager.

Shiro recruited Keith, probably because he saw the hidden potential in Keith that no one else could. He vouched for him to go to the Garrison which is a military organization. I’m assuming the Garrison is in the U.S. and the timeline is years into the future. By law you have to be at least 17 years old to enlist in a military organization. Keith was more than likely 16 in the Garrison flashback where he’s seated next to a kid who looks older than him, and when Shiro tells him he won’t give up on him. He was probably being tested to see if he was good enough for the Garrison (and being Keith he got into a fight).

I think people were confused when Keith said “just take me back to the home already” and automatically assumed Shiro took him in. That’s not what happened.

People who say this forget that the Garrison has dorms and housing.Otherwise Lance and Hunk wouldn’t be snooping around the faculty lounge at night and Pidge wouldn’t be seen leaving her dorm room in the first episode, they would be in their own homes. They literally live at the Garrison. Keith definitely also moved into the dorms and it’s very likely he got in on a flight scholarship (considering he was their best pilot) that Shiro vouched for.

So yeah. Keith was 16-17 when he got into the Garrison and also kind of a late bloomer. But he didn’t stay that way.

Keith is likely 18 here. The same age he was when the show began. And the crew confirmed Shiro wasn’t a faculty member before for long Kerberos, he was a student. He must’ve recently gotten promoted to one right before but Sam Holt was the designated adult faculty on the mission. Keith and Shiro knew each other as students at a military COLLEGE. Shiro never raised him.

“But Krolia said-“

This isn’t literal. What Krolia most likely meant by this line is “Thank you for being there for my son when no one else was, if it wasn’t for you his life would be different.” Which it would be as Keith himself has mentioned.

If Shiro hadn’t been there for him, hadn’t believed in him, hadn’t gave him advice when things got tough. Keith would have no one. Keith could’ve ended up the way Lotor did. When you don’t have a source of love in your life… things go sour quickly… Krolia’s words aren’t meant to be taken literally as if Shiro was a replacement for Keith’s dad. They simply mean she’s grateful for all he’s done for him.

Now that those points are covered. I’d like to address “you’re my brother.” The argument I keep seeing thrown at me constantly which is getting tiring and unnecessary at this point.

I’d like to remind these people, most if not all of whom are klantis or klance shippers (i know good ones exist though so please don’t go there), that klance has been called brotherly before as well.

This was literally the second episode. Hunk refers to Keith and Lance as “brothers” along with himself.

Even their supposed Klance savior Jeremy Shada himself has compared Klance’s relationship to being brotherly.

Yet NEVER has this been a problem for Klance shippers. They never stopped shipping it and no one has harassed them for it.

But suddenly it’s a major problem for Sheith. Give me a goddamn break. Sheith (as a romantic relationship) has been supported by the cast and crew of this show since the day it began and it continues to be supported by them. They have been less vocal about it but that’s likely because of the horrible harassment they were receiving. But If the creators intended Sheith to be a “brotherly” relationship, they’d also be grossed out by supporting it in a romantic light which is clearly not the case so that’s that.

NOW TO THE SCENE THAT SHOOK THE ENTIRE FANDOM.

STILL GETS ME TBH. This scene is so unbelievably telling and important to the evolution of Keith’s relationship with Shiro. However, if you choose to see Sheith as platonic and brotherly for your own personal reasons or heck just because that’s how you see it, THAT IS PERFECTLY FINE, but this post is explaining a different point of view and as long as you’re not an anti and are being respectful to all interpretations, you’re fine. I’m going to explain what this scene means to me personally as a bisexual girl, and many others in the LGBT+ community. 

As a bisexual woman who’s had romantic feelings for other women, I understand Keith calling Shiro a brother because I’ve called those women sisters. I’ve said “you’re like a sister to me” or “you are my sister” and realized later that those feelings were something more. I’ve seen this kind of thing happen often even in m|f relationships and ESPECIALLY in the LGBT+ community. Referring to a person you love in a romantic way as a brother or a sister is simply a way of expressing 1.) You trust them as much as you would trust family. 2.) A way of figuring out why you feel so close to this person in the first place and understanding your feelings. Or 3.) Expressing the romantic love you feel for the person in a safe way should they not reciprocate.

This scene is telling because we know how Keith saw Shiro throughout the show, the brother thing isn’t exactly new.

“Shiro, you’re like a brother to me.” - Season 2, Episode 8, The Blade of Marmora.

You all remember that, We can see that’s how Keith viewed the connection he had with Shiro because possibly, it was the ONLY way he could put a word to what he was feeling. Especially as an orphan with no one, surely the thing he wanted most was a family or someone he could call family. Shiro definitely was that person for him in the beginning stages of their relationship, but just like the weather, and the world, and age, and almost everything in the universe, relationships, people, and dynamics can change. To deny that theirs could’ve as well is frankly a bit ridiculous.

Keith has had time to grow, he’s had time to have his own little family with a dog and to get to know his mother better. Two years is more than enough time to make up for their lost time and lost familial relationship and now he’s got a new family dynamic that’s separate from how he viewed Shiro. Keith has also gotten older. He was 19 last season and now he’s 21 making him a mature adult and he’s gained a lot of self assurance in speaking to his mother, figuring out why she left, and understanding his family didn’t abandon him. MANY things about Keith have changed since he last called Shiro his brother. He goes into the fight with clone Shiro with determination and resolve, one that would waver once before with the thought of Shiro abandoning him. (I’VE ALMOST HIT IMAGE LIMIT SO BEAR WITH ME.)

His relationship with Shiro has also changed and I think Keith himself realized it. Keith realized as the clone was attacking him once he said “You’re my brother” that it simply wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to express what Keith felt for Shiro. Keith also would never use Shiro’s feelings against him as a manipulation tactic. Keith knew he was going to die, he knew he was losing, and he simply just wanted Shiro to know what he meant to him. If Shiro was familiar with Keith saying “I love you” in a brotherly context, it would not have made him stop attacking and pause in shock. The “you’re my brother” line wasn’t what got through to Shiro, It was the “I love you.” because it was new to both of them and showed a change in their relationship.

I could go on about how Sheith was likely the LGBT+ rep the crew has been fighting for but that’s not what this post is about so I’ll end it here.

Sheith has evolved, it’s grown and changed along with Shiro and Keith as individual characters. It’s a beautiful relationship however way you choose to interpret it and the people who see it romantic deserve to be able to because that interpretation is just as valid.

[starrnobella]

Forever and Always - Chapter 21 - Blind Trust

A/N: We are back with another chapter! Anyone who has picked up this story has realized that I have almost entirely re-written season 6 of the TV show we have all come to know and love. This story still holds a very hefty piece of my heart because it is the first story I have ever shared with anyone to read and also I love these characters very much.

This chapter is very unique in the work that I have put into it so that things could appear they way that they are meant to happen. My research from this chapter came from a website called Spells of Magic and it is where the incantation came from that appears towards the end of the chapter. Dark magic is coming to play in Storybrooke, but that's to be expected when the Evil Queen is lurking around.

This is self-betaed so all mistakes are my own.

Song Recommendations: Nobody Knows - P!nk; What Are You Waiting for? - Paradise Fears; Next to Me - Double or Nothing; Relapse - Divided by Friday

If you are interested in checking out my other works or keeping up with me in general, I have an author's page on Facebook that you can check out (starrnobella Fanfiction) as well as a group (starrnobella Fanfiction Friends & Fans) that I am very active in on a daily basis. I'm also on tumblr (starrnobella) that you can follow along with me as well.

Please let me know what you think! I'll try not to make you wait till the end of March for the next chapter!

Love always, ~starr

Arriving in front Zelena's house in a puff of smoke, the Evil Queen stormed inside, hoping to find Zelena on the other side of the door so that they could figure out what their next move may be. However, she noticed that the house was silent, so she sat down at the table to wait for the green witch to return home.

Based on the simple fact that the house was so quiet, the Evil Queen assumed that Zelena was out somewhere with the small child she had come to care for. She shook her head in disgust at how motherly her sister had become.

There was no good reason for it. Regina would have taken the child had Robin not been killed. Zelena wasn't fit to be a mother. After all she wanted to take the Charmings' baby for her stupid time travel spell.

A stupid spell that only allowed her to come back to Storybrooke because the damn Savior thinks everyone deserves to be saved. Not everyone deserves to be saved.

The Evil Queen absentmindedly rubbed her neck where Gold had lifted her up in the air. She'd have bruises there soon. Luckily she could use magic to hide them. That was the last thing she felt like explaining to Zelena.

"Where the hell is she?" the Evil Queen mumbled to herself as she rose from her seat and began pacing the length of Zelena's kitchen. Mumbling incoherently under hear breath as she went.

. . . . . . . .

Regina and Emma were still trying to figure out what they were going to do about the Evil Queen when the came to the decision that it was time to talk to Zelena. She was their only visible connection to the Evil Queen at the moment because they weren't sure what the Evil Queen had in mind for Storybrooke. And if they were being honest with themselves, they didn't really want to find out.

"So what are we going to do if Zelena decides that we are worthy of hearing the truth about what she knows?" Emma asked, leaning back in her chair.

"Well, we have two options," Regina replied, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her desk. "We can tell her we know the truth and see if she'll be honest with us, but then she will more than likely get mad at us and go running to tell the Evil Queen what we know, resulting in us getting screwed over. Or we can play it stupid and let her come to us to do the right thing for once in her life. She may finally figure out that there is more to life than revenge."

Emma nodded her head slowly, rising from the chair she had been sitting in. "I think our best bet for right now is to play it stupid and let her come to us. She needs to see for herself that not everyone is out to get her and there are more people who believe in her. Especially since we all know that Hades is not exactly the most trustworthy source of false hope. I need to get back to the station though. I left Hook and Charming alone, so hopefully everything is still in one piece when I get back. Something weird was going on with them this morning."

"Good luck figuring that one out," Regina laughed. "I'll let you know if I come up with anything more."

Emma left Regina to her own devices as she headed back to the station. It was going to be a long afternoon if Killian and her dad were in cahoots behind her back about something. And she'd be damned if she didn't figure out exactly what they were up to.

Arriving at the station she found a note from Killian, instead of finding the two of them lounging around. According to the note, they took it upon themselves to follow a lead they had discovered in Henry's storybook.

"Great, they're galavanting around town," Emma mumbled to herself as she sat down at her desk and fired up her computer. She glanced over briefly at her phone as she contemplated giving Killian a call just to make sure they were both still alive, but she decided against it and turned her focus back to the computer.

. . . . . . . .

Arriving home with Baby Robin, Zelena sighed when she heard pacing footsteps coming from the opposite side of the door. Hanging her head, Zelena opened the door and mentally prepared herself for whatever mood the Evil Queen was currently in.

The house felt full of hostility as the door swung open. Instead of a pleasant greeting welcoming her home, Zelena was met with the snark of crotchety witch. "Where the hell have you been?"

Lifting Baby Robin up slightly, Zelena replied, "Picking up my daughter."

She looked at the Evil Queen for a few moment, cocking her head to the side as her eyes trailed from her face to her neck. That's when she noticed the red marks on either side of her neck. Zelena put Baby Robin in her high chair before stepping closer to the Evil Queen to examine them a bit closer. "What the hell happened to you?"

The Evil Queen brought her hand up to her neck, nervously rubbing the marks Zelena was now staring at. Rolling her eyes, the Evil Queen replied, "Something that wouldn't have happened had you not been picking up that thing."

Zelena bit her tongue, holding back a retort about having responsibilities and not being able to run off half-cocked like the Evil Queen had a tendency to do any time she pleased. Instead she took a deep breath and decided it was time to find out what exactly happened. "Who left those marks?"

"Gold," the Evil Queen huffed, rolling her eyes. "I went to check in on him and ended up pissing him off a tad more. He's pining after that damn woman who wants nothing to do with him. Idiot."

She was shaking her head as she rolled her eyes at the thought. Why pine after her when there was someone standing right in front of him, willing to give him anything he wanted? It was a twisted sense of thinking that she was certain she would never understand. That might be because she had closed off her heart to love, regardless of what her other half may have done.

"He loves her," Zelena replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "Let me guess, you told him she wanted nothing to do with him and he was wasting his time."

The Evil Queen shrugged and kicked her heel against the floor. "Well at least I told him the truth…"

Zelena rolled her eyes and uncrossed her arms, gently putting a hand on each of her shoulders. "When will you figure out that sometimes the truth is not what you tell the Dark One? Typically its better for you to lie to him."

"I went to see him to make good on the deal I made with you, but I didn't get the chance to ask the questions I needed to before I managed to upset him," the Evil Queen admitted.

"Well, then let's go have a little talk with him," Zelena suggested picking Baby Robin up. "I just need to take her back to Blue and then we can go talk to him."

The Evil Queen nodded and before long the two disappeared in a cloud of red smoke. One hoping to make things better for her daughter and the other hoping not to die at the hand of the most powerful man in Storybrooke before getting the chance to get her final revenge on the ones who wronged her.

. . . . . . . .

"I cannot bloody believe you got us lost," Killian grumbled as they approached the line where the forest met town.

"It's not like I did it on purpose," Charming insisted, sighing internally in relief that they had found their way back to town.

There had been a few moments in their trek back to the edge of the forest that he had thought they got themselves very lost and were not going to make it back home. There was no denying that he and Hook had bonded over the last few months, but there were still times where the two of them were ready to rip each other's heads off. Charming smiled to himself as he thought about when he and Hook had officially began their bonding time, even if he still wasn't all that fond of the pirate.

Charming: We shouldn't be here. I didn't -

Killian: No, no, no. You're right. You shouldn't be here. I realize that I haven't said it yet, but thank you. I didn't want Emma to do this, let alone drag everyone along.

Charming: Hey, we made our own choices.

Killian: Really? I didn't know you cared.

Charming: Alright, I did it for Emma.

Killian: Ah I figured.

Charming: And I guess you've grown on me a bit.

Killian: Well I tend to have that effect on people.

Charming: Alright, don't push it.

Killian knew deep down he shouldn't be nearly as annoyed with with Dave as he was, but he couldn't help it. His good old friend decided to interrupt his usual morning routine with Emma causing them to be late into the station because if he was being honest with himself, Killian just couldn't keep his hand or his lips off Emma. Especially when invited to join her in the shower. That was quickly becoming his favorite way to start the morning.

Taking the last few steps out of the forest and back into a place that looked familiar, Killian let out a sigh of relief. For once he was happy to be in town with all the crazy people who were roaming about. It had to be better than remaining lost in the woods with his eventual father-in-law.

As they crossed into town, Charming's cell phone buzzed a few times in his pocket. Puzzled he pulled his phone out to see the messages he had missed while they were out of cell service.

Snow: Gold showed up outside of Granny's. Belle is going to watch Neal at the apartment.

Snow: Why aren't you responding? Is everything okay?

Snow: Why do you even have a phone if you aren't going to answer it?

Snow: I guess I'll talk to you when you get home.

Charming laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I should text my wife back and go home to check on my son. Apparently Gold showed up outside of Granny's this morning. Do you want to get Emma and see what he was up to?"

"Aye, go check on your boy," Killian nodded. "Emma should be back at the station by now. I'll see you later, mate."

Charming nodded and turned in the direction of his apartment. It would be nice to spend a little bit of time with his son before Snow was due home from work.

. . . . . . . .

Zelena and the Evil Queen stood outside of Mr. Gold's Pawn Shop for a few moments. Both of them lost in their own thoughts about what was waiting for them on the other side. Zelena was irritated she had been pulled away from her daughter yet again to handle an issue that should have already been handled. The Evil Queen's thoughts were drifting back and forth between her plans for revenge against Snow White and her fear of the Dark One and what he could really do to harm her, especially since he had already told her to get out of his shop once today.

"Ready?" Zelena asked after a few minutes. The Evil Queen nodded and the two entered the shop to chat with the grumpy old Dark One. "Dark One, we'd like to talk to you."

There was no response other than the scrapping of footsteps nearing them from the back room. Zelena stepped further into the shop, allowing the door to slam behind her and force the bell to ring signalling Gold there was someone waiting for him.

Zelena called out to him once again, but was met with deafening silence. However, the silence only lasted for a few brief seconds before the two of them were no longer alone in the shop.

"You don't heed warnings, do you dearie?" his voice snarled as he walked out from behind the curtain.

Zelena rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Always full of threats, Dark One. Don't you have anything better to do with your time?"

"Don't you start with me either. What the hell are you two doing here?" he hissed, pointing a finger in Zelena's general direction.

"You're up," Zelena mumbled, taking a step back as she turned to the Evil Queen. She had no idea why the two of them were here, but she was going to find out one way or another.

The Evil Queen sighed before stepping closer to him. A wicked smile played at the corner of her lips as Gold narrowed his gaze to meet her eyes.

"I need your help to make good on a deal I have made with Zelena," she admitted, kicking her heel against the floor of the shop.

"Why would I want to help you?" he growled. His eyes flitted between Zelena and the Evil Queen. He didn't help anyone make good on deals that weren't made directly with him.

"To ensure your beloved and your son's lives not be harmed when I take my revenge," the Evil Queen quipped, exhaling sharply in frustration. "Are you going to help us or not?"

Gold rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. The Evil Queen had already crossed a line once today when she had been here earlier, and now she was finely toeing a line she should not consider crossing. "Fine. What do you need my help with?"

The smile that had been playing at her lips grew into an outright grin when he agreed to help her."I'm very happy you decided to come to your senses."

Gold began to raise his hand to lift her once again, but Zelena stepped in between the two of them and turned her attention first to Gold. "Enough. She doesn't need any more bruises around her neck. I don't plan on standing here like a moron while you two fight this out like children."

Turning to the Evil Queen, she continued her onslaught of instilling her opinion. "And you," she began pushing a finger into the Evil Queen's shoulder, "quit irritating him on purpose. You are only making things worse for yourself. Just tell him your damn plan so that we can get on with this and I can get home to my daughter."

"Fine," the Evil Queen grumbled. "You need to step outside for a few minutes."

"What?" Zelena asked taken back by the statement she had just heard. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because I said so," the Evil Queen hissed, narrowing her gaze at her dim-witted sister.

"Fine," Zelena said, spinning on her heels and stormed out of the shop. "Call for me when I'm allowed to hear what the adults are whispering about."

Slamming the door behind her as she went, she stopped just on the other side of the door and crossed her arms as she waited impatiently for them to finish their little chat.

Gold raised his brow, slightly puzzled by the actions of the Evil Queen. "Why did you send her away?"

"Because she doesn't know all the details and I'd rather not share all of them with her just yet. She's too fragile."

"Well, I'm waiting."

"I told her there is a way to bring Robin back," the Evil Queen began. "Which is why I'm here. I can't find my book containing the Resurrection spell. You wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you?"

"I might," Gold replied, coldly as he crossed his arms over his chest. "But how do you expect the spell to work? His soul and his body need to be in the exact same place at the exact same time. And as far as I was made aware, Hades obliterated the man into nothing."

"His body was destroyed, but his soul remained. It has been hovering around Regina like a lost puppy dog," the Evil Queen sighed, rolling her eyes at the thought. "All I need is the spell and for my other half to bring his soul to the cemetery."

"How exactly to do you plan on doing that? You are the last person on earth Regina would want to see," Gold replied with a laugh.

"That's where Zelena comes in. I will explain everything to her after I have my spellbook," she huffed.

Gold rolled his eyes and stepped behind the counter that ran along the back wall of his shop, waving a hand over one of the cabinet doors. It popped open when he lowered his hand. Opening it a bit further, he revealed a collection of old, dust covered books. He selected the one she was looking for and pulled it out to show her. Turning the cover to face him, he blew the dust off the top in her general direction.

She glared, waving her hand in the cloud of dust. Gold snickered to himself momentarily. "Is this what you were looking for?" he asked, presenting the book to her.

"How long have you had it?" she questioned, taking the book from his hands and began flipping through the pages until she found the spell she wanted.

"Since the first curse. Now you have what you came from. I suggest you leave before you say something that may get yourself killed," he told her.

She nodded in agreement and turned to exit the shop quickly. She shook her head when she saw Zelena pouting with her arms crossed out in front of the shop. Without turning to look at Zelena, she smiled and whispered, "Let's go."

Almost immediately after that the two disappeared in a cloud of smoke before making their reappearance. The Evil Queen arrived back at the farm house first and a short while later Zelena appeared with her daughter. The pair went inside and began discussing the plans that needed to be put into place for everything to go accordingly.

The Evil Queen waited impatiently for Zelena to put Baby Robin down. She was pacing the kitchen when Zelena reappeared in the kitchen once again. The irritation on Zelena's face was enough to make the Evil Queen's frustrated demeanor lighten as a smile toyed at her lips. It looked like her sister was going to have a little temper tantrum of her own. The Evil Queen stopped her pacing and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for the tantrum to begin.

"I cannot believe you," Zelena hissed, storming past where the Evil Queen was standing toward the refrigerator where she pulled out a bottle of water for herself.

"Why not?" the Evil Queen mocked. She knew what the problem was, but the tantrum was rather enjoyable to watch. Especially as Zelena's face was beginning to take on a red hue rather than the jealous green look she had been sporting in patches on occasion since the Evil Queen's return.

"You know damn well why!" Zelena exclaimed, throwing her hands up above her head. "You sent me away like I was a damn child who wasn't allowed to know what the adults were talking about. You just had to bring me along only to ship me outside when you two started talking. So tell me what the hell was so damn important."

"I needed Gold's help to locate a spellbook that would help me to resurrect Robin from the dead," the Evil Queen explained after taking a deep breath to calm herself. She could feel her own irritation boiling up just below the surface.

"And I couldn't hear about that because?" Zelena asked.

"Because for any of this to work, his soul and body have to be in the same place," the Evil Queen growled. She still couldn't believe she was doing this. She wasn't one to do deals with people who have requirements for them to pay up on their part.

"What do you mean his soul? I thought his soul was gone too?" Zelena asked puzzled. From what she knew happened when a person was obliterated, everything was gone. She couldn't figure out what was going on with the Evil Queen, but something was definitely off with her.

The Evil Queen rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't know. You haven't talked to Regina lately, have you?"

Zelena shook her head. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she had talked to Regina. It had to have been when they were transported to the Land of Untold Stories and even then the words exchanged were not friendly. She shuddered at the thought and had no interest in being reminded of that unfortunate day.

"His soul is still here. It's been hanging around my worser half since the day he died. It's pathetic honestly, but it's what he wants apparently."

Zelena was dumbstruck. Of all things Regina could have mentioned to her, one would think it would have crossed her mind to mention the soul of Baby Robin's father was hanging around. She couldn't understand why Robin wouldn't have at least come to visit his daughter, or maybe he had and she had no idea.

"No he hasn't been here to see the baby," the Evil Queen told her, "Honestly, why would he? You tricked him into having the thing."

"Her," Zelena growled.

"What?"

"My daughter is not a thing, she is a her and she has a name. I would prefer that you use it," Zelena said much louder than she had growled.

"Fine. Her. Happy?"

Zelena nodded. It was the least that the Queen could do. The baby was her niece after all. At least in some loose sense of the term.

"How do you expect me to get his soul here? Obviously he wants nothing to do with me and the baby because he hasn't shown up here yet."

"Get Regina to come here."

"How? We haven't talked in weeks."

"Figure it out. Or at least get her out to the cemetery. That way we don't have to disturb his grave to bring it here.".

With a huff and a wave of her hand, Zelena was gone. The Evil Queen cackled as she thought about what a victory this could be. She would be able to show Regina that had she not separated herself into halves, then she would have had the knowledge to do the reincarnation herself.

While she had the time, she needed to finish making the arrangements for the minor details that would need to be laid out while she recited the spell Rumple and Maleficent had come up with in the Enchanted Forest. They had created it in hopes of finding Lily. The issue was they didn't know where her soul was and could not locate a body.

This would be a huge step for the Evil Queen if this it works. It would mean she had something the other side did not. In a perfect world, she would have been able to bring back Daniel. However, his soul had already passed over into the light and they didn't live in a perfect world.

Luck was in their favor tonight because the spell required a full moon and Mother Nature was kind enough to give them exactly what they needed. Regina should be eternally grateful when all was said and done, even though the Evil Queen knew it would never happen. The biggest issue now would be convincing Regina to believe the spell would work. Zelena was playing along based on blind faith alone, but Regina would be ready to hex her into next year when she showed up at the cemetery and saw her standing by Robin's grave.

"For thou who sleeps in stone and clay, heed this call, rise up and obey, trek on through the Mortal door, assemble flesh and walk once more," she repeated in her head over and over again. She never spoke the spell out loud for fear of someone's spirit and body being present she was unaware of. They didn't really need anyone else coming back from the dead today. One was more than enough.

Checking the clock, she decided to head to the cemetery. She needed to gather the remaining ingredients and place them around the graveside. The Dark One had opted not to attend this evening's festivities because if something were to go terribly wrong, he needed to be as far as away as possible.

The Evil Queen couldn't deny she had been thinking the same thing when they were discussing the exact needs for the evening. Having that much dark magic around could be detrimental to their success. Her own magic along with Zelena's could be enough to cause some unforeseen problems.

. . . . . . . .

Zelena arrived outside of Regina's office door and suddenly nerves struck her. She had no idea what to say to this woman who was supposed to be her sister that she knew nothing about. That fact was becoming more and more apparent as Regina would do things without informing Zelena of what was going on.

The more she thought out it, the more she realized going in there right now would be doing the same thing to Regina that had been done to her by Regina and many others in Storybrooke. Now she was really in a dilemma.

Who does she show her loyalty to? Her sister who was willing to take her in after Robin's death even though she chose to go back to her farm house or to the Evil Queen who was more like her than Regina was?

She paced back and forth outside the door trying to make up her mind, ignoring the world around her as she walked. However, she was pulled away from her thoughts when the door opened from the other side and she was face to face with the woman she barely knew.

"Zelena," Regina said, surprised to find her sister waiting for her on the other side of the door. "What are you doing here?"

"That's what I was trying to figure out," Zelena replied, shrugging her shoulders nervously.

"Well, do you want to come in?" Regina asked, ushering her inside.

"Yes, thank you."

Zelena walked inside toward the couch by the fire. Her thoughts were running rampant as she took a seat quietly. She wasn't sure what to ask first. She didn't know if she wanted to know the truth about Robin before or after she admitted the truth behind what she was doing here.

Regina followed suit and took a seat on the chair beside the couch where Zelene appeared to be muttering to herself. She was curious if Zelena had any idea about her other half's arrival in Storybrooke. It was probable that she knew, but there was always the possibility that the Evil Queen was just hiding out in the shadows, waiting for her chance to jump on an unknowing subject.

"So, you were wondering what I was doing here," Zelena began. "But first I have a question to ask you?"

"Go on," Regina nodded. She could feel Robin's hand on her shoulder. He was doing his best to comfort her in the current state that he was in, even though he hated the fate he had been dealt.

"Is Robin's soul still here?"

The words were out of her mouth before she had really decided on what exactly she was going to say. Tact had never been Zelena's thing. She was the daughter her mother had abandoned after all, so she was used to having to get straight to the point when it came to dealing with people.

Regina sighed as felt the squeeze of Robin's hand assuring her to tell Zelena the truth. "Yes. His spirit has been with me since his death."

"How long have you known?"

"A few weeks."

"And you never thought to tell me?"

"Honestly? No, I never thought to tell you. You tricked him into sleeping you. He loves his daughter and I know it is killing him that he can't hold her. I don't know if he's gone to see her or not."

"According to the Evil Queen, he hasn't come into my cottage," Zelena scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Speaking of not sharing information…" Regina hissed as she glared at her sister, who had dropped her arms and sunk down in the couch with embarrassment.

"How long have you known about her?" she asked, looking intently at the floor hoping to avoid the fire of her glare.

"Since she appeared to my son and I the other night and informed me I can't get rid of her without getting rid of myself," Regina grumbled.

"Oh, yeah she came home bragging about that little adventure the other night."

"How long have you known she was here?"

"Since she came to town…" Zelena said, her voice trailing off as she ran a hand through her hair.

"And you never thought to warn us?" Regina yelled, but lowered her voice as she felt Robin's grasp on her shoulder tighten in an attempt to calm her down.

"I know, I know. I need to calm down," Regina grumbled under her breath hoping Zelena wouldn't hear, but alas had no such luck as Zelena raised her eyebrow before speaking.

"Who are you mumbling to?"

"Robin can hear us, but he can't talk to us verbally."

"Oh. Well I'm actually here about him, and your other half."

"What about him?"

"She has a way to bring him back."

"How does she have that information and I don't? We are two parts of the same person. Everything I know, she knows. Or so I'd like to believe."

"The Dark One may have reminded her," Zelena said, scratching her head. She wasn't sure how much more information about the Evil Queen's plan she should be telling Regina. After all, she had volunteered to be on the Evil Queen's side.

"She's working with Gold?" Regina exclaimed.

Zelena nodded and Regina threw her hands up in the air. If the plan she and Emma had agreed upon was going to work, then she needed to react in a way that would be considered normal without the previous information she had received from her spying mission, as well as Robin's little mission too. However finding out that Gold have given the Evil Queen a spell was new information she wasn't prepared for.

This was not good.

It's never good when Gold was on the wrong side of everyone else's goal. Regina was sure if he was on the Evil Queen's side, then she wasn't going to meet the Evil Queen alone. She knew she needed to take Emma with her.

"What's her plan to bring Robin back?" Regina asked innocently after a few brief moments of thought.

"She has someritual that Rumple and Maleficent came up with when Maleficent thought Lily was dead and she wanted to bring her back. However the flaw in their plan was that they didn't know where Lily's soul was and they didn't have a body to perform the ritual over," Zelena admitted.

"Where does she want me to meet her?"

"At Robin's grave. His soul and body have to be in the same place at the same time for everything to work apparently."

Regina nodded her head and pulled out her phone. She wasn't going into this alone. She needed back up. The more power she had in her corner, the safer she was.

"Who are you texting?" Zelena asked.

"Emma. I'm not going there without backup," Regina replied. She finished off her text and slid the phone back into her pocket.

"She's not going to like this."

"I don't care. Ready to go?"

Zelena nodded. This was better than leaving Baby Robin without anyone to take care of her. She didn't deserve a hard life just because her mother was not the kindest person.

. . . . . . . .

The light of her phone caught the corner of her eye. She glanced down, noticing that she had a new message from Regina. Puzzled by the odd time of the message, she picked up her phone and slid open the menu.

Regina: Found a way to bring Robin back. Meet me at Henry's castle.

Almost immediately, Emma shut down her computer and gathered her belongings. She didn't need to ask anymore questions about the situation because she knew Regina would fill her in when she arrived. It appeared that time was of the essence.

As she was on her way out the door, she ran face first into Killian's chest. She hadn't expected someone to be on the other side of the door as she made her way out the door. Startled she took a step back and looked up at the person standing in her way. A smile appeared on her face when she spotted his concerned face looking down at her.

"Are you okay, love?" he asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Emma nodded quickly. "I'm fine, just a little shocked to be met with face to chest with someone on the other side of the door. How that lead pan out earlier?"

"It didn't," Killian said with a scowl on his face, but pushed the negative thoughts aside and focused his attention back to Emma. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

"Henry's castle. Regina found a way to bring Robin back apparently," Emma with a shrug. She wasn't entirely sure what it all meant. Placing a soft hand against his chest, she pressed up on her toes and pressed her lips into his. Breaking the kiss, she lowered herself back down and rested her forehead on his chest and scrunched her brow, "What do you mean it didn't? What happened?"

Killian laughed as she leaned away from him. "I mean Dave and I might have gotten lost on our way to the blimp this afternoon."

Emma quirked her brow at him and sighed. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not, but I'll tell you about it eventually," Killian said with a smirk. He kissed her forehead softly. "But you need to go meet Regina. Do you want me to come with you?"

Emma shook her head. "No, I'll be okay. But if that changes or I need back up, you'll be the first one I call." She kissed him once more before backing away. "I'll meet you at home?"

"Aye, love," Killian replied. She smiled and was on her way.

[claroquequiza]

Submission by @flarechaser

The following was submitted by @flarechaser!

I would straight up die for Hana ok, her “attitude” isn’t the problem like … I love how you’ve portrayed her, I love that you’ve put thought into the classified tech in her mech an how that loan would be tricky, I love that she’s putting her country and team first and showing her disposition as a soldier. 

And I’m REALLY glad that you’ve pointed out how her distrust is similar to McCree’s distrust in the beginning because I think For Some Reason there may be a double standard at play in how people react to her “disrespecting Hanzo” and how people reacted to McCree actually putting the team in danger to satisfy his own distrustful feelings like Thus far, Hana’s reaction has been way less intense or dangerous than McCree’s was, she hasn’t been actively antagonizing Hanzo’s known paranoia, both McCree and Hana have made digs at his and Genji’s shared pas, and Hana hasn’t ignored useful intel just because she didn’t like him

Of course, Hana has known him 12 hours compared to several months for McCree so maybe its a question of not having the change to do those things, but still.

I love how you’ve written McCree throughout this, I love his struggles and how his opinion has slowly changed, I love how he’s made mistakes.  So I’m definitely not trying to bash McCree to put Hana on a pedestal, but here we have two characters who have had similar interactions with The Fan Favorite, but two different fan reactions and I’m like hmmmmmmmm

I just love this whole fic and how complicated the emotions are that you’re portraying.

Everything following is mine!!

I’ve actually been very pleased by the reaction to Hana! While I was nervous to do a slightly different take on her character, I wanted to explore a different interpretation of her membership both in MEKA and Overwatch, and it’s gratifying that it’s apparently complex enough for people to come to different conclusions and different interpretations of her character when I all set out to do was posit that she’s not quite as, um--positive as she’s commonly portrayed. 

It’s partly because I love Hana--she’s one of the biggest badasses in Overwatch for so many reasons and I want her to have a background that leads up to her being so badass in the game.

But mostly it’s because of lines like these:

"I can't wait to get into the fight!"

"Think you can keep up with me?"

"I'm going to own all these noobs!"

"You better get out of the way!"

"Are you even trying?"

"Get owned."

"Did that sting?"

"Get bent!"

"You ordered a knuckle sandwich?"

“Now I'll show them."

"I'm not a good loser."

"Is this easy mode?"

And these lines in particular:

"I play to win!"

"The destruction caused by the omnics here... It reminds me of home."

"Alright. Game face: on."

Hana’s tough. Hana’s driven. Hana’s intelligent.

Hana’s seen some shit. 

Hana’s 19.

To be so young yet caught up in life-and-death scenarios--

I think Hana is bubbly. I think she loves to crack jokes and hang out with friends and likes to tease people and all that--but on one level, she has to be, and I think that on other levels, she can’t be. She has to navigate through all of that with the faith of a nation on her shoulders, all while just barely being old enough to vote. 

Her age is a detriment in other ways, too. It means that in a lot of ways she doesn’t have much control over her own life, leaving her military service and MEKA aside. People speak over young people, especially young women, all the time. Hana’s not the kind of person to take that in stride.

And Then She Meets Hanzo.

There’s plenty of reasons for her to be cautious of Hanzo, and I’m looking forward to addressing them in future chapters--and a lot of them might not have much to do with Hanzo himself! XD

But the thought of a gendered reaction to her treatment of Hanzo occurred to me as well--there’s a similar, smaller split of opinion over Angela, too, between people who very kindly say that I give her more character and a realistic response to Hanzo given her work with Genji, and people who reject her completely because of her inability to see past Hanzo’s actions. 

I hope that it isn’t gendered--I will say that the response to McCree’s treatment of Hanzo in the first few chapters was Pretty Damn Negative, but as soon as he improved, it very quickly went to the wayside. Because of that I’m hoping the negative response to Hana and Mercy is more a case of “How Dare You Not Like Hanzo?!” more than “How Dare You Not Like Hanzo, BITCH?!”

Because that’s not what I’m going for at all.

You’re right to say that there’s an element of timing here--McCree’s Bad Behavior is, phew, seven chapters behind us, which is a long, long time for something we’d all rather forget. 

But the more critical timing is that Hana’s come along right when McCree is getting better, and Hanzo’s doing better, and it’s all so very fragile right now, and the readers know it, and McCree knows it, but Hana? Not So Much. All she knows is that Hanzo murdered Genji and that [TEXT REDACTED] and [TEXT REDACTED] and that she friggin’ [TEXT REDACTED] and she’s not entirely okay with that!

I’m really enjoying having people come into the story at different times so that Hanzo is forced to begin again and begin again and begin again in a lot of ways, but I understand how that might be frustrating for the reader to see--it’s certainly frustrating for Hanzo, and he thinks he deserves it!

I hope that people will give Hana the benefit of the doubt in the meantime--another reason I’m stoked to have her in the fic at last is to have a sort of dichotomy of response between Hana and Mei specifically--so far everyone but Genji who has met Hanzo is interpreting their history through a Western perspective, and I’m looking forward to having Hana and Mei bring a couple more Eastern, specifically East Asian points of view to the table. They come from similar backgrounds but so far they’re having quite different reactions, partially because of Hana coming from South Korea versus Mei coming from a background in the PRC versus the Shimada brothers themselves from Japan.

But for now, just know that she has reasons for being how she is, and I think people will ultimately find them justifiable--even if they cause Hanzo some grief for a little while. XD

Thank you so much for the submission and for sharing your thoughts!! I appreciate it and all your compliments!!!!!!!!!