#in all seriousness i have a very large ant problem

[ketxup-kid]

I have ants all over my room. They always come in more numbers than the day before.

Sometimes I wake up with the ants crawling up my spine.

Sometimes the ants come to take away the bodies of their compatriots.

I respect them for it, I think. I just wish they would find a different battleground.

I am tired of this slaughter, and so i no longer kill the ants. And so they come in larger, greater numbers than before.

I am afraid of them, in a sense.

Not genuinely, more just a semblance of tired annoyance stemming from my mother.

I have mold growing in a teacup by my bed. I have no desire to wash it. No need to.

My mother is frantic now. So desperately tired. She slams her broom onto the ants. Tells me to do the same.

They are just as tired of dying as I am of killing them.

They work and toil to keep the colony alive.

My mother is like an ant in that sense.

And because she is my mother, I am like her, and so I am an ant.

But my mother has a murderous fury. And I have my father's willfull ignorance. I let rot thrive.

Maybe my mother will tire of my ignorance and she will come to kill the ants in my room. Maybe she will rid me of my teacup. Maybe she will kill every last one of the ants. And becasue she is an ant, and because that makes me an ant,

Maybe she will kill me too.

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

A Very Large Man

I think a lot about the implications of physicality.

Miquella - forever fresh faced with the chubbiness of youth - what does his anger look like? How can anger be taken seriously with someone who looks like an elementary school kid? Maybe a preteen. Miquella whose youth was a curse - who could age and age and age and never once wear it on his skin.

To always be looked down upon and deemed immature. Anger, rage, and fury would only align with the allegations of immaturity. So Miquella hid that anger behind a smiling facade - to be the "bigger man", and held his rage behind his teeth.

Radahn then has the exact opposite problem. He is a large man, a very large man, a honking HUGE unit. If he showed his rage, what would that look like? People see his size and expect him to bulldoze his surroundings - muscular arms that will swing wide and wildly.

Violence is implied in every inch of Radahn's massive body. It's not even intentional really. If a mountain were to move, if it shattered the shell of an ant, no one could fault it for a mountain is just too big to see. It's the reason for giants being threats more often than they are gentle - that a gentle giant is the exception that would prove the rule

So I think... Radahn also hid his anger. If he slipped once, no one will ever forget. He could never be taken seriously beyond being labeled a threat. The prejudice that already exists against his intellect and capacity for higher reasoning would be further exacerbated by any show of visible rage.

For all that Radahn could be gentle (as he was to Leonard), he couldnt afford to show rage once - to display anger would be to bait incarceration, ridicule, and especially violence.

Basically, I think Miquella and Radahn saw in each other an anger that they dared not express aloud for fear of destroying any respectability that they had. And in this, they may have united.

They couldnt show their anger so it bled into everything else - Miquella's rebellion, Radahn's love of warfare (the only space where he could be angry without backlash).

[smallearthboundfindings]

Requesting another Ness for the game cuz I've got the feeling you'll implode if you can't share more of your word doc.

Alright! Sorry this took a while to respond to, but, hey these do take a while to type out. (Also, Tumblr deleted part of this post once and I got upset, okay?)

How about how I interpret his character growth? A little of this did bleed into the PSI/homesickness post, but this one will be a greater look into how I believe he grew. Under the read more because this is and I kid you not, like, one thousand words long.

My interpretation of Ness is that he always wanted to be part of an adventure. That's why he was so nosy to immediately check out the meteor and mind you, him being this adventurous is recurring by his mom's line: "Ness, you don't seem scared. Are you nuts? And now you want to go check it out? ..oh …okay. You'll sneak out of your room anyway, even if I asked you not to." which implies he has pulled similar stunts multiple times.

Now I imagine that after the residents near Mt. Itoi likely saw Giegue's very large mothership leave and three kids (Ninten, Ana, and Lloyd) come down the summit not shortly after, they put two and two together and made a few news reports on the kids that might have just saved the world. Years after and most certainly not during the events of EBB or Ness would've been a literal infant, Ness hears of this news, eventually coming to admire Ninten as a role model. They even had similar hats! He wanted to save the world just like that one day…

Sidenote: The exact level of admiration is variable depending on how closely I decide they are related, but the point still stands. See, because PSI can be passed on genetically, because Ness had PSI from birth due to his flashback telekinesis, and because Ninten and Ness look similar, I headcanon that they have some common link to George in their family tree as cousins, but when across the three generations where this could have split, I have not decided. Though Ness could have gotten the news more directly and be more impacted by them if he and Ninten are closer cousins.

Now, given that, once Ness got news that he was prophesied to do exactly what he wanted to do, he was over the moon! He wasn't really taking it seriously at all because there was little to no threat and even when there was with Starman Jr., Buzz Buzz would just trivialize the fight on Ness's side, making him see it as more of a game until Buzz Buzz's death. Now, it's clear that Ness internalized that in some way due to the tombstone for him in his Magicant, but I don't think it set him off too much if you recall fun facts like homesickness not affecting him until approximately when he leaves Onett and also because he literally just met Buzz Buzz. He was just like, oh, this isn't that bad… Sure, maybe Titanic Ant makes him realize he might be in actual danger, but he doesn't realize others are until Twoson.

This is where the problems start.

After receiving Paula's telepathic messages and then actually saving her, he realizes that other people's fate do depend on him. And this is where the self doubt starts… Not only that, but if you recall how Ness first saw the Mani Mani Statue in Onett, this is when it's able to start influencing him by my theory. And yes, due to Ness's Nightmare, yes, the Mani Mani Statue was absolutely trying to fight for control of Ness's mind the whole time, it's just that Ness's mental fortitude was stronger than it, but these self doubts are what allowed it to stay up until Fire Spring.

Fun Fact: if you speak to other Ness in Magicant, when other Ness returns his hat to player Ness but player Ness has a full inventory, other Ness'll harp on himself for being forgetful, so yes, Ness can be a little hard on himself. (I'll put up a screenshot when I replay the game because it is at a very far away point in the game and rare dialogue that I can't just look up.)

He starts missing his family, realizing he was way over his head, realizing that people could die if he wasn't careful. And, goodness, bless his sweet little heart, his sentimental personality simply could not let anything bad happen that he could avoid. And this added pressure upon pressure as he made new friends he had to watch out for and protect. And I'll put these lines here again because I didn't transcribe them for nothing and I love them. Here's what Ness had to say in Lumine Hall that proves how concerned he is for everyone at this part of the game.

"I'm Ness…. It's been a long road getting here… Soon, I'll be… Soon, I'll be… Soon, I'll be… What will happen to us? W…what's happening? My thoughts are being written out on the wall… or are they?"

"What will happen to us?". That is the line.

He fears for him and he fears for his friends at this point by the usage of "us".

Another tidbit from Magicant is him speaking to his younger self and yet declining things he's known to love like baseball because he's "busy". At this point, he's really stopping at nothing for the world, but yet, younger Ness seems so disillusioned by this, almost like this is the life current Ness wants to return to.

He wants to go back to a normal life, but he can't at this point. Because he knows what he must do: for the world, for himself, for his friends. He'll live on with the strong hope and stubborn optimism within him, and in the end come back stronger and more courageous by defeating the doubts within him trapped by the Mani Mani Statue's influence.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Speed Run

I've watched three movies today. First time since probably the last time i went to the theater with my kid sister to see Black Panther II, that i could actually chill out and enjoy a film (or three) like this. The last five months have been a straight up clusterf*ck and I'm just glad there is a sense of normalcy to my life again. Seriously, between getting “evicted”, having to stress about moving, getting “fired”, and then starting this new job, i feel like this is the first time in a long time, I've had the opportunity to just breathe. To just relax. o be honest, I'm still a ways off from actually getting back to the theater in person for proper releases, mostly trying to save for a new car and furniture right now, but we’re getting there. Hopefully by the time The Marvels drops, I'll be good to go but we’ll see. In the meantime, here’s a bullet points of the films i watched today and how i flt about them.

Renfield

I liked this one. It was fun and a genuinely unique take on the Dracula myth. It plays as kind of a sequel to that old Bela Lugosi outing but it works. Like, it really works. Obviously, the star of this thing is Nic Cage’s take on the Prince of Wallachia but Holt’s Renfield was fun and i even enjoyed Awkwafina in small doses. It’s weird that she keeps getting pushed as the romantic interest to me, though. They did it in Shang-Chi and they did it in this. It’s like, there’s this romantic tension, a subtext of attraction, but they never really let that sh*t evolve. She’s just the plucky sidekick who very obviously has feelings for the protagonist but they never get together. I dunno if that’s by choice of the fact that she isn’t “classically attractive” or whatever. Personally, i think she’s gorgeous and i adore her voice so this sh*t is just bogus in my eyes but whatever. Overall, Renfield is a fun, campy, over-the-top gory, pseudo-capeflick that has a lot of heart and great fight scenes. That said, Ben Schwartz is criminally underused and the whole Lobos gang angle needed more time in order to really have weight. Still, if you have an hour and a half to kill, it’s a good watch.

The Super Mario Bros. Movie

This new Mario movie is boring. I know it's "for kids" but that's not really an excuse, is it? The Lion King is for kids. Shrek is for kids. The Iron Giant is for kids. Kids films can be good. They can be entertaining. This was not. It wasn’t even a bad movie. There are things to love about this flick. Seth Green as Donkey Kong. Jack Black was excellent casting as Bowser. All of the little callbacks and easter eggs. That climax. All of that sh*t was great. Everything else was f*cking mid and i am offended that they think kids are so unsophisticated that they would just accept this mediocre sh*t. But, apparently, they did because this motherf*cker is the first billion dollar movie of the goddamn year and it ain’t even close! Like, Ant-Man III is the next highest grossing film and the motherf*cker can’t even cracked half a bil. F*cking how? Like, where was this enthusiasm for, say, Puss in Boots II? THAT sh*t was f*cking fantastic! You people should have spent your money on that because all this is saying to Hollywood is that you want derivative adaptions of existing IPs. That’s it. I want to be clear here: The Super Mario Bros. movie is not bad but ain’t ain’t good, either. It’s nothing. It’s a nothingburger of a film and the public at large should be ashamed for making it as successful as it is. Unless i get a Metroid flick out of this. Then i will suffer this billion dollar foolishness, no problem.

Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

This movie has no right to be as good as it is. Seriously, i had the best goddamn time with this thing. It is, unironically, one of the best fantasy outings i have ever seen in my life and is sitting at the top of my list of best film release this year. I was shocked by how dope this movie turned out to be. Seriously, there is just so much to like in this thing. From the adherence to the lore, the DnD easter eggs, detailed world-building, and accurate class attributes. I didn’t think this movie could cover so much ground and keep me interested but it did just that. The performances, from top to bottom, were fantastic. There was real chemistry among this actors and it made this film all the better for it. Look, I'm old as f*ck, right? i can say, with all certainty, that the DND film franchise was a joke until Honor dropped. Some of the worst movies i have ever seen were DND adaptions. Hell, even that old Eighties cartoon was dog sh*t. Not this movie, though. This thing was brilliant!

[smokeybrand]

Speed Run

I've watched three movies today. First time since probably the last time i went to the theater with my kid sister to see Black Panther II, that i could actually chill out and enjoy a film (or three) like this. The last five months have been a straight up clusterf*ck and I'm just glad there is a sense of normalcy to my life again. Seriously, between getting “evicted”, having to stress about moving, getting “fired”, and then starting this new job, i feel like this is the first time in a long time, I've had the opportunity to just breathe. To just relax. o be honest, I'm still a ways off from actually getting back to the theater in person for proper releases, mostly trying to save for a new car and furniture right now, but we’re getting there. Hopefully by the time The Marvels drops, I'll be good to go but we’ll see. In the meantime, here’s a bullet points of the films i watched today and how i flt about them.

Renfield

I liked this one. It was fun and a genuinely unique take on the Dracula myth. It plays as kind of a sequel to that old Bela Lugosi outing but it works. Like, it really works. Obviously, the star of this thing is Nic Cage’s take on the Prince of Wallachia but Holt’s Renfield was fun and i even enjoyed Awkwafina in small doses. It’s weird that she keeps getting pushed as the romantic interest to me, though. They did it in Shang-Chi and they did it in this. It’s like, there’s this romantic tension, a subtext of attraction, but they never really let that sh*t evolve. She’s just the plucky sidekick who very obviously has feelings for the protagonist but they never get together. I dunno if that’s by choice of the fact that she isn’t “classically attractive” or whatever. Personally, i think she’s gorgeous and i adore her voice so this sh*t is just bogus in my eyes but whatever. Overall, Renfield is a fun, campy, over-the-top gory, pseudo-capeflick that has a lot of heart and great fight scenes. That said, Ben Schwartz is criminally underused and the whole Lobos gang angle needed more time in order to really have weight. Still, if you have an hour and a half to kill, it’s a good watch.

The Super Mario Bros. Movie

This new Mario movie is boring. I know it's "for kids" but that's not really an excuse, is it? The Lion King is for kids. Shrek is for kids. The Iron Giant is for kids. Kids films can be good. They can be entertaining. This was not. It wasn’t even a bad movie. There are things to love about this flick. Seth Green as Donkey Kong. Jack Black was excellent casting as Bowser. All of the little callbacks and easter eggs. That climax. All of that sh*t was great. Everything else was f*cking mid and i am offended that they think kids are so unsophisticated that they would just accept this mediocre sh*t. But, apparently, they did because this motherf*cker is the first billion dollar movie of the goddamn year and it ain’t even close! Like, Ant-Man III is the next highest grossing film and the motherf*cker can’t even cracked half a bil. F*cking how? Like, where was this enthusiasm for, say, Puss in Boots II? THAT sh*t was f*cking fantastic! You people should have spent your money on that because all this is saying to Hollywood is that you want derivative adaptions of existing IPs. That’s it. I want to be clear here: The Super Mario Bros. movie is not bad but ain’t ain’t good, either. It’s nothing. It’s a nothingburger of a film and the public at large should be ashamed for making it as successful as it is. Unless i get a Metroid flick out of this. Then i will suffer this billion dollar foolishness, no problem.

Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

This movie has no right to be as good as it is. Seriously, i had the best goddamn time with this thing. It is, unironically, one of the best fantasy outings i have ever seen in my life and is sitting at the top of my list of best film release this year. I was shocked by how dope this movie turned out to be. Seriously, there is just so much to like in this thing. From the adherence to the lore, the DnD easter eggs, detailed world-building, and accurate class attributes. I didn’t think this movie could cover so much ground and keep me interested but it did just that. The performances, from top to bottom, were fantastic. There was real chemistry among this actors and it made this film all the better for it. Look, I'm old as f*ck, right? i can say, with all certainty, that the DND film franchise was a joke until Honor dropped. Some of the worst movies i have ever seen were DND adaptions. Hell, even that old Eighties cartoon was dog sh*t. Not this movie, though. This thing was brilliant!

[officialleehadan]

Smoke-glass Lamp

Stone Kisses

+++

“How are you feeling?”

The library had private rooms for students who wanted to study without being bothered, and for groups who didn’t ant to bother others with their discussions.

Alivir’s favorite was all the way in the back, had frosted-glass windows to diffuse the light, and sported a large, comfortable couch that was long enough for him to nap on. It was far quieter than the dormitories. He might have his own room these days, but it was still loud with the other young men and boys who lived there. It was restful and quiet, which considering his pounding headache, was welcome. A nap was just the thing to handle the vision-headache that left him nearly blind with pain.

As it happened, that was exactly what he had been doing, his head cradled in Dainea’s lap as she stroked her fingers through his hair. He wasn’t sure when she had come in, but when he woke, she was there, with the hint of lavender lingering around her, and a cool, damp cloth to lay over his eyes.

“Better,” he whispered, still tentative of his aching head. It was a past ache now, but the inside of his skull felt bruised. He pulled the cloth off his eyes and opened them cautiously, only to discover that he had slept until night. The only light in the room was a single oil lamp behind a panel of smoked glass to muffle the lamp’s glow. After a minute to let his eyes adjust, he sat up cautiously. “How long did I sleep?”

“A few hours. It’s not quite time of the evening meal,” Dainea told him gently. Someone had found her a proper dress, not just the healer’s robes. Alivir found himself distracted by the way her hair curled down over her shoulders. The dress was simple, but only seemed to highlight how pretty she was. Her smile was soft. “I thought you might like to be woken in time to eat something.”

“Probably should,” Alivir sighed reluctantly. He hated the dining hall. With all the glass everywhere, it rarely failed to throw visions at him from every angle. He usually ate alone, either in his room or in one of the workrooms. The teachers mostly let him get away with it as long as he made an appearance in the dining hall once a week or so. “Eikh is probably going to tell the school what we found. I should be there.”

“I’m sure we could find some excuse to avoid it if you like,” Dainea offered and waited for him to get himself in order before she moved for the door. “No one would blame you. You looked- we were so worried when you returned to the surface.”

So, he had looked like living death then. Alivir had figured but it was nice of her not to say it outright. He probably could get away with eating alone, or with just Dainea.

He probably shouldn’t avoid it. The announcement would happen sooner or later. It would be better to know what happened rather than hearing about Eikh’s report from others. He was one of Eikh’s students now, and that meant he had a certain amount of responsibility to his new teacher. Master Fraiz hadn’t cared. Master Eikh almost certainly would. He seemed inclined to take Alivir’s education seriously.

Most mages had a reputation they would fight to protect. Alivir had a reputation, alright, but not one he had any hand in making. His Sight took care of that for him. There was a real chance that he would live at the mage school all his days. Nowhere else would have the protections to keep him out of royal hands.

That was all a problem for later. Today the problem was his newly minted status as Eikh’s student, which had definitely changed how the school would view him.

“No, I’ve gotta be there,” he decided reluctantly and offered her his arm. Dainea took it and rested her head on his shoulder. “Will you sit with me?”

“Of course I will,” she promised with a smile that made his heart jump in his chest. He could hardly believe that she had been his statue only a few days ago. “I hear there’s usually dancing after dinner. Will you dance with me?”

“I don’t dance very well.”

Or at all, really, although technically he knew how. He had been critically clumsy before coming to the school. Master Fraiz might not have helped much to train his Sight, but he did a fair bit to help Alivir get comfortable in his own body. Those lessons, at least, had served him well. Now it seemed those same lessons would help him do something that would make Dainea happy.

“I don’t care if you’ve a pair of left feet,” Dainea told him firmly as they made their way through the halls towards the smell of dinner. “I love dancing, or I used to. I want to know if I can still do it.”

Right. Statue. There was no telling how many years she spent locked away. The dances, the language, the food. It must all be entirely new to her. Frankly, Alivir was surprised she was managing as well as she was.

Then again, he remembered two of the school’s mind-healers talking with her. They were probably helping to keep her on an even keel, and to process what had happened to her. Alivir knew them well. He saw them three times a week to help with his visions.

Well, not to help with the visions, but to help him handle what he Saw.

He should probably go see them tomorrow. The adventure down into the pit was sure to come with new and horrific nightmares.

Maybe he should go see them tonight for a no-dreams potion.

That was something to worry about after dinner. Alivir put it firmly into the back of his mind and took a steadying breath.

“If it will make you smile, I’ll dance with you until the end of time,” he told Dainea, who beamed up at him. “Ready to face the school?”

“Together? Always,” she replied and squeezed his arm. “Lead the way, my rescuer. The future cannot be worse than the past has already been.”

+++

Stone Kisses:

Save Me

Spell to See

Kiss to Save

Dust-Streaked (Special thanks to Brandon for the commission!)

Fall Over Fall Back

Reflective Reflection (Subscriber Only!)

Water Runes (Subscriber Only!)

Burning Papers (Subscriber Only!)

Wink out the Light

Catlike Tread

Courtyard Ruined

Down the Hole (Subscriber Only!)

In the Deep

Blinding Sight

Emerge from the Dark

Smoke-glass Lamp (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Oh HEY! I Can Share This Now!

So talking about my shitty pest control job in the last post I suddenly realized: I’m no longer employed there and never will be again. I CAN TELL STORIES!

Okay. So. One thing you learn very, very quickly when you answer phones at a pest control service (or are in any job involving people and animals) is that people know nothing about animals. 

Seriously. Not a damn thing. I mean, for example, they get the idea of ‘cat’, but the concept that a ragdoll and a bengal have inherently different personalities, grooming needs, space needs, etc. is a completely foreign concept. In pest control this means that people do not understand that there are some basic differences in how roof rats and Norway rats* function and therefore how you got about getting rid of them, while basically the same - exclusion, baiting, trapping - still requires some fine tuning. You are probably not going to trap roof rats by tossing four traps under the house. And your exclusion points are going to be unique to your house.

In short, beware of any company that gives you a treatment and a price over the phone. They are either one size fits none or that price is going to change radically**. I’d even be leery of ‘ballpark figures’. Now, there are different ways to handle pricing that are more ethical - my company did free investigations, another company I know charged for the investigations, but subtracted that from the total if you went with them - there are pros and cons to everything. Just know that if you call in and say ‘I have ants’ and they say ‘That’ll be $50, we’ll be out tomorrow’ you might wanna get a second opinion.

This is especially true of insects, because there are thousands - plural! - of ant species and they do not act the same!

(Okay, this is getting very long for one, short, stupid story, but bear with me. You need to know all of this to feel my pain at the end.)

The chemicals that will quickly get rid of one ant problem will make another ant problem exponentially worse. Now, if you’re a biologist who knows your ants and have nests in areas where you can get to them easily, etc, pretty much any ant can be easy to get rid of. If they’re in your walls, though, you need to at least make sure you have the right damn type of ant! And all ants like sugar, so don’t tell the pest control people you have ‘sugar ants’. That’s not informative at all!

You need your ants (or cockroaches, those are the other biggies) keyed out. The pest control people need to look at the animal, look for species specific traits that frequently require a magnifying glass, and figure out what, exactly, we’re dealing with.

One of the biggest bugbears in that job was people who wanted us to key things out over the phone. I mean, first off, yes, I had a license, but it wasn’t an inspector’s license, it was an operative’s license. Asking me to key crap was like asking an algebra person a question on advanced calculus. And I was the only person in the office who bothered getting a license, so everyone else was even more useless. But above and beyond that, you could not tell me what I needed to know! You couldn’t! Even with Norway vs. roof rats, unless you were very familiar with both species, the identifying traits were so subjective it was insane! Is it larger or smaller? Is the nose pointy or blunt? Are the ears large or small? Are you sure the ‘baby rat’ isn’t a fully grown mouse?

Can’t be done!

But boy howdy, there were people who were determined! They just had to have me try! And the more determined they were, the fewer brain cells they had.

The most memorable one was the lady who had caught a spider. She was concerned it might be a medically important spider and so she wanted it IDed. Now, while there are hundreds of spider species in this state, most of them are not of medical interest. Black Widows. Yellow Sacs. Hobo Spiders, which have actually been taken off the ‘medically important’ list due to lack of evidence. That’s it. But there has been at least one case of a brown recluse being imported and biting someone. I know because it was a relative of mine who caught the spider and took it to the hospital with her! So I could not, in all good consciousness, see if it met the description of a black widow or yellow sac and if not say ‘yeah, don’t worry about it’. I said we’d have to get an inspector out there to properly ID it.

She didn’t want to deal with it. She was concerned, but if it wasn’t dangerous, she didn’t want to take the time. “Look, can I just describe it and see if you can tell me what it is?”

Sometimes you just have to humor people. “Okay, describe it and I’ll let you know if it’s something I recognize.”

“Okay! It’s brown and it has eight long, hairy legs. What is it?”

... ... ...

I think what I actually said was “That’s could be any number of species. I’d have to send an inspector.”

What I wanted to say was “Congratulations ma’am, you have a spider.”

In retrospect, she could have been a prank caller. We certainly had enough of them. But honestly? After over seven years working there, I honestly believe she was just that big an idiot.

*which did not originate in Norway. Sorry, Norway, for whoever stuck your name on these rats.

**If they let you know up front that it might change radically, that’s fine. Ballparks are unreliable, but as long as you’re told it’s a ballpark, I will cast no stones.

[doingthingsthewriteway]

Shakedown

Summary: (verb) to blackmail or try to get money from someone; also to give someone a scare.

Warnings (Series): potential violence, dark!bucky, stalking, smut (idk), general mob shenanigans 

A/N: series being cross posted from my ao3 (a_bit_vintage)

Despite its massive population, New York was full of gossip. Everyone knew at least one somebody who knew another somebody who could tell you where to go to get what you wanted. Perhaps it was a little assuring. Never had it occurred to you that you might miss the essence of the small town you left in the dust, so the gossip would have to serve as a small comfort.

People in New York seemed to notice the new girl in town, that or you were seriously inept at navigating the concrete jungle (most likely both). Some offered a helping hand while others pushed on as if you were but an ant and they were a boot. Life was bustling in the city and it truly never slept. Something was always happening somewhere and for that you were grateful.The very design of the city lent itself to escaping the thoughts that seemed to creep in uninvited.

Your apartment often served as your place of refuge when the hustle and bustle became overwhelming. It was an apartment in the most basic of terms which is to say that it was a shoebox. There wasn't really a living room, just an open space with a closet and bathroom. A kitchen to your right and the wall where your mattress lay on the floor to your left. Simple. That's all you really needed. Based upon the complaints of your co-workers you'd heard around the water cooler, you'd managed to score a decent set up.

Some nights when the weather was fair, you'd haul your mattress out to the patio that moonlighted as a fire escape and basked in the evening glow. A glass of wine occasionally accompanied the experience but for the most part you simply enjoyed the city. The city shined at night, especially once it got dark and a whole new group emerged to go out on the town either ending or beginning their day.

It was on your fire escape, stretched along the mattress overlooking the alleyway below that you first saw him and-without being overly dramatic-your life changed forever. The city was always loud, a stark contrast to the quite serenity of your former home. Hisses and honks often echoed throughout the night. Tonight was no different.

A book in hand, cup of tea to the side, you went about your evening. Occasionally a stray cat would hiss or someone would walk by with their dog. Rarely did someone wave or even bother to look up (not that you would have seen them anyway). You reasoned in a city as large as this, surely stranger things had been witnessed than a girl on her balcony.

The sun that peeked around the endless rows of buildings offered a much appreciated reprieve to the sterile florescent lighting that you were subjected to at the office. Warmth from the sun soon started to lull an easy sleepiness over you. Pair a lovely summer evening with the stress from a long week, you found your eyes fluttering shut and lulled you to sleep. This would be your first mistake of the evening.

As sunlight gave away too darkness, you awoke with a start. A brief panic rushed through you until your eyes adjusted to the darkness. Sitting up ever so slightly to adjust to your surroundings, you let out a sigh of relief. You were safe. you just needed a moment to recover before hauling your stuff back into the apartment.

As you stretched, you saw a shiny black town car creep to a stop in the alley. Odd but surely not anything to be considered about, right? Nosiness, curiosity, pure stupidity? You weren't entirely sure, but you were convinced that yes you needed to stay out here and see what juicy gossip would unfold.

The door to the town car opened revealing a man in, based off the dull street lights illuminating him, a pin stripe suit. Classy. Blonde hair slicked back, scruff of a beard, and broad shoulders certainly made him an attractive presence. He crossed his arms escalating the situation ever so slightly.

Lost in a fog of fear and anticipation, you had missed the arrival of a second man by foot. The second man, also well dressed, had long dark hair that melted into the night, a harsh contrast from his pale skin. "Captain." He all but purred his greeting.

"Loki."

"I come with an offer. I'll be blunt, my brother has teamed up with Stark which, well" a dismissive hand gesture. "In exchange for protection, I'll give up some territory."

The blonde nodded briefly. Before chuckling ever so slightly, amused by some sort of inside joke. "And when you double cross us again?"

"Then, my dear Captain, you can clip me."

Oh shit, you thought, this has taken a turn. You hadn't realized you were wolfing your breath until you gasped. The sound, you prayed, dissolved into the night as merely just another part of the city's symphony. Both men seemed to still but made didn't look up towards you.

They shook on their deal and you waited until both had left the alley before you dared move an inch. Looking back, your mistake would be obvious. In a hurry to pull your mattress inside, you knocked the tea cup over shards to the street below. You were thankful it was empty and hadn't stained the mattress.

Locked in the safety of your apartment, you were blissfully unaware of the second sweep of the street by the town car. Steve crouched down and inspected the shattered porcelain, eyes trailing upwards to your apartment, lights on and spilling through the blinds.

Swearing under his breath, he reached into his pocket pulling out his phone. "Hey Buck, I think we got a problem."

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About "What If...Captain Carter was the First Avenger" from Marvel Studios' What If...

Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

Back when Marvel Studios announced the new lineup of films and shows, I was admittingly underwhelmed. Nothing we've seen so far has been poorly written, far from it, but during the announcement, nothing really popped out at me as worth getting excited for. That is, except for one series: Marvel Studios' What If... An animated series that changes the canon of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, all through the simple question. The question being, "What if this happened instead of that."

From the get-go, I was sold on this idea. I'm a sucker for hypothetical scenarios, thinking up all the ways of how some of my favorite stories in fiction could be drastically different thanks to one tiny change. Some might call that "Fanfiction the Series," and while you're not wrong, I fail to see how that's a criticism. Because fanfiction can be fun...just as long as you ignore the sick freaks, sure, but it still can be fun! So whether Marvel Studio's What If... is fanfiction or not, it still didn't change how excited I was to watch it. Was it all worth the hype? Well, to answer that question requires spoilers, so keep that in mind as we dive deep into Marvel's most ambitious project yet.

Now, let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

The Watcher: Gonna get the generals out of the way before I talk about what I specifically like about this episode. Ok? Ok.

Now, using the Watcher as the narrator for this series is just perfect. What If... already has a similar energy to The Twilight Zone: An anthology series that takes viewers to new and mysterious realities all through the guidance of an omniscient narrator. And using the Watcher as that type of narrator might just be the second-best choice...number one would be Stan Lee, obviously, but...he's dead now. May he rest in peace.

I haven't read that many comics, so there's not much that I know about the Watcher's character aside from a ten-second Google search. But something tells me that a character described as a celestial being that observes and records the events surrounding the galaxy sounds like the exact type of omniscience to guide us through the unknown. All added with Jeffrey Wright's performance, who really does convey a character that sounds like he's as old as time and wise beyond his years. Plus, it's pretty cool that such a seemingly odd character now technically plays a major role in the MCU canon. Comics are weird, and if the Watcher proves anything, it's better to embrace that weirdness than deny it.

The Animation: Looks like someone watched Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse.

That really is the feeling I got when watching this. What If... doesn't look as good as Spiderverse (Nothing can be as good as Spiderverse), but the idea is still there as it combines primarily CGI animation with a few hand-drawn elements. It makes certain scenes just pop and, at times, even makes specific shots look like they're straight from panels in a comic book. Besides, while Spiderverse still looks better, that doesn't mean the animation isn't phenomenal in What If... The scenery looks gorgeous, the CGI models moderately match their live-action counterparts, the expressions are fantastic, and movements are as smooth as butter. There was definitely some money that went into this series to make it look as good as it did, and my eyeballs were more than grateful because of it. Especially when it comes to--

The Action: Holy s**t, was it a good thing that this series was animated!

The MCU has had its fair share of great fight scenes in the past, but it always felt restricted to what the big superhero fights could be due to everything needing to look "realistic." That all changes in What If... Because now that this series is animated, we can finally chuck realism out the window and allow these characters to be as epic as they were in the comics. The movements are swift, the blows look like they hurt, and best of all, you actually get to see characters fighting each other! There are no random cuts to hide the stunt doubles or weird camera angles to avoid audiences seeing how ugly the CGIed replacements are. We get to see all of the action with zero restraint, thanks to the fact that animation is limitless and allows writers to get away with literally anything. And shows like this make me wonder, "Why the hell isn't the MCU animated?"

Peggy as Captain Carter: It's here that we get into the specifics, and by golly, do I love me some Peggy Carter making a return. And what a return she made!

Seeing Peggy kick Nazi ass as Captain Carter is as awesome as it sounds as she gives a new definition of a "Strong, independent woman." She took s**t from no one and was more than willing to destroy anybody who said differently. It's a ton of fun for fans (the ones who aren't sexist, at least) and even fun for Peggy as well now that she gets a chance to wreck shop. However, that in itself could cause problems. If you watched Agent Carter (a great show, by the way), then you'll know that Peggy doesn't act as...somewhat meatheaded as she does here. As she said it herself, she's "usually more covert than this." And she is, as she was pretty much the first superspy in the MCU, who's impressive through how she effortlessly infiltrates her way to winning the day with diminutive requirements for fighting. So stripping that away gets rid of a core part of what makes her character so interesting. Although, in fairness, you could blame the fact that the reason she's acting like this is that the super-soldier serum is messing with her brain a bit. We've seen through U.S. Agent the reciprocations of the wrong person taking the serum, and while Peggy is far from the worst pick, there are hints of why Steve Rodgers was the best choice. Still, even though it's not the same Peggy Carter, that doesn't mean Captain Carter is a poor addition to the hero roster in the MCU. She's cool in all the right ways, even though they're drastically different from what made her compelling, to begin with.

Howard Stark: Another character I'm more than happy to see again!

Howard didn't leave that much of a grand of an impression in Captain America: The First Avenger, but in Agent Carter (Seriously, great show), he was a blast. You can just tell he was Tony Stark's father through all the ways he fast-talks in and out of problems and brilliantly comes up with solutions thanks to being tech-savvy. The main difference between Howard and Tony, however, is that Howard prefers to stay on the sidelines, where Tony learned to be more proactive. You get a sense of that in this episode. Because even though he goes to save the day, you can tell that he would rather be anywhere else. And, as a bonus, Howard's just funny. Probably not up there as one of the funniest characters in the franchise (Paul Rudd's Ant-Man reigns supreme), but he still cracks me up more times than not. Howard may be nothing more than a side character, but he'll always win me over no matter how small of a role he has.

Steve Rodgers in the Hydra Stomper: Don't mind me. Just admiring the fact that despite being crippled and skinny, Steve Rodgers still finds a way to fight the good fight, which is who Steve is to me. One of the best things about The First Avenger is that it fully understands the hero that is Captain America. Serum or not, he will do all he can to do the right thing and won't give up despite how many times others tell him he should. So if Steve's going to fly around in a suped-up Iron Man suit that's appropriately named "The Hydra Stomper," then Steve'll f**king soar. Because he is a gosh dang superhero, no matter what name he takes at the end of the day.

Fast-Forwarding Through Events: Some fans might take issues with this. Don't get me wrong, I would love to see all the little changes that Captain Carter makes to the story, but realistically that's not the best choice to make. Let's be honest, there's not that much to show other than what this episode did, and doing a full-on rewrite of Captain America: The First Avenger would have rubbed some fans the wrong way. Besides, from what I can tell, most of the What If... comics are one-shots that very rarely branch out into longer arcs. The primary goal is less to write this large-scale story and more of this self-contained narrative that does what it precisely delivers: Show fans a glimpse of what would happen if this happened instead of that. That's what we were given, and I can't really complain that much. I would have loved to have seen more, but I can learn to be happy with what I got.

Colonel Flynn Taking Credit: This guy is sexist and an idiot, and that's why I hate him...but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't at least chuckle when he said everything was his idea. It's such a scumbag move that I couldn't help but find the humor in it.

(Like, what even was that scene where Peggy was pissed at Steve kissing a girl. THEY WEREN'T EVEN DATING !)nd Steve falling in love inThe First Avenger, which certainly wasn't helped by how they had these dumbass misunderstandings of each thinking the other was dating someone else. Here, they at least get to interact, confiding in one another about their insecurities and offer support when needed. And while it may be a little rushed, I'm more willing to believe their romance in under thirty minutes than I did in over two hours. It could have been better, but it also could have been much, much worse.

(Like, what even was that scene where Peggy was pissed at Steve kissing a girl. THEY WEREN'T EVEN DATING AT THE TIME!)

“I won’t tell you anything.”/”He told me everything.”: That's the Peggy Carter I know and love! Added with a solid joke, too.

Steve’s Pratfall: It's nice to know that no matter what universe we see, Marvel is still funny.

Peggy’s Sacrifice: Much like Peggy and Steve's romance, I buy Peggy's sacrifice way more than Steve's. Several fans already pointed out how it makes no sense for Steve to crash the plane into the icy waters when it seemed like he had enough control to land it or could have easily jumped out after aiming for the crash landing. Here, there's a more legitimate reason why Peggy sacrifices herself. The monster was undefeatable, and the only way to stop it was to push it back through the portal. Peggy, being the only one strong enough to do so at the moment, was the only option, and there was no way where she didn't end up going through with the monster. Even her return makes more sense, as I think her being lost to time and space sounds more believable than Steve surviving being frozen in ice. Something no mortal man should live through. Peggy's sacrifice proves that while the MCU can't change its cannon past, the writers learn from their mistakes and make something better.

WHAT I DISLIKED

The Reasoning Behind Peggy Becoming Captain Carter: So, the idea that one small change can greatly alter the story we knew is a great one, and it's one of the main reasons why I was excited about this series...but how does Peggy staying in the room cause the Hydra agent to detonate the bomb early? I understand the ripples that come from the Butterfly Effect, but I feel like that's too big of a leap to reason how Peggy ends up taking the serum instead.

Colonel Flynn: How is it possible that this guy is somehow even more of a pain in the ass than the general he replaced? At least Chester Phillips had the decency to respect Agent Carter!

Red Skull is Still on the Dull Side: Red Skull isn't an awful villain, but he wasn't really a great one. It's the same here, as he's just as forgettable and wooden an episode of television as he was in a full-length movie. But at least he had a cooler death this time.

Sebastian Stan is Not a Great Voice Actor: He's not awful, but his talent really doesn't shine in this regard. Some people think that being an actor and a voice actor is the same thing, but it's not always the case. Through live-action, actors are given a chance to express emotion through their expressions, movement, and voice. With voice acting, actors still have to convey emotions, but strictly through their voice. Meaning that actors like Sebastian Stan are limited to what they're used to and can stumble a bit when trying to perform in a field of acting they're unfamiliar with. You can tell he was trying his best, but this type of thing can take far more practice for others to perfect.

“Whew. Thanks. You almost ripped my arm off.”: ...hhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHA! HA HA! Ah...oh man...I, uh...I felt the internal bleeding with that one. Wow. Just...wow.

Bucky Leaving After Steve “Died”: Ok, now that's the biggest bout of bulls**t I've ever heard. BUCKY WOULD BE WITH STEVE 'TILL THE END OF THE LINE AND WOULD NOT HAVE LEFT THAT QUICKLY!

...This episode did Bucky dirty, didn't it?

IN CONCLUSION

I'd say that "What If...Captain Carter was the First Avenger" is an A-. It's still a solid start of what I can already tell will be a great series, but some elements could have used some polishing out. I loved it, but it wasn't as bloody brilliant as it could have been.

(And I meant it: WATCH AGENT CARTER! It's pleasantly surprising!)

[rosegoldannie]

A feysand AU

thank you to my best friend for helping my name this! 

this is a one-shot

Masterlist

*a/n please send in prompts for me to write!!*

“Please?” He groaned, the most undignified I had ever seen him. Well, the most undignified I had seen him today. He always let his facade slip when he was around me.

I huffed a sigh, continuing to dodge him, as he followed me through the halls of the stone palace. “No, I already told you. I don’t have time.” I sent up a quick prayer that he might take the hint, might not continue to follow me. My prayer went unanswered.

“Liar,” He purred, easily keeping time with my steps, even as he was strolling backwards,  “I know for a fact that there are no meetings scheduled today.” That silky voice took on a slightly hurt tone. “Feyre, if you don’t want to spend time with me, you don’t have to spare my feelings.”

At that, I finally slowed, and let out a drawn out breath. “No, Rhys.” I muttered, moving to lean against a stone pillar. Partly to get us out of sight from any nosy dignitaries, and partly because I was exhausted. Having forgone sleep the previous night, entirely due to a marathon lecture from my parents and sisters, my eyes stung with the effort it took to keep them open. Racking my brain, I tried to think of an excuse that was both believable and yet not insulting. Rhys was my friend, had been since childhood, but still. Emissaries and dignitaries alike always seemed to get the wrong idea of us, and my family had told me countless times that it was disgraceful for someone of my stature to be associated with him. Nevermind that he was first in line to the throne of Velaris, whereas I was only third in line for the throne of my kingdom. Nesta’s words rang harshly in my mind, of how, yes, he was first in line, but he was tainted because of his many, many relationships with many, many women.. “I...don’t think that would be a good idea.” The words tasted like dirt, and it was an effort not to gag.

Rhysand’s expression didn’t change. “Really.” He drawled, crossing his arms. 

I nodded warily, eyes flying around to ensure no one saw us. 

“Because  that sounds an awful lot like your family talking, darling.”

Try as I might, I couldn’t fight the blush that arose at his old nickname for me. “Stop, someone could hear you.” Shoving the hair behind my ears, I kept my eyes trained on the cold, marble flooring. “And don’t call me that, someone could get the wrong idea.”

He only chuckled, rolling his violet eyes in the way that only he could: just enough sassy to let you know he wasn’t pleased, but not harsh enough to be hurtful, with a dramatic flair, because it was Rhysand Darling, and he never did anything without a large dramatic flare. “Alright, darling.” He said.

Leaning farther back against the column, I watched out through the tall, tempered glass windows, where down on the great lawn, ant-sized people were scurrying around, and setting up the croquet game for tomorrow. I already knew no one would play, save for me and Rhys. And even then, we played only for show. Sighing again, I thought back to the vow which my parents had sworn to the neighbors of our kingdom, which was that I would marry their son once this assembly had finished. And that son, that golden boy, I already knew how he felt about Rhys.

I hadn’t brought up the topic of my marriage since we were eleven, because every single person in his court and mine had instantly begun spreading rumors that we were engaged, or would soon be. And the problems caused by those rumors were still very, very real, even though that had been nearly ten years ago. Absently, I wondered how Rhys would react when I told him, as it wasn’t exactly hidden from public knowledge that when we had been younger, it had been a real possibility that we would one day wed. I wondered if he would be upset, or simply say it was about time I was married. Or, would he become angry, and rage against the deal?

The latter, most likely. In all of the years I’d known him, Rhys had never once agreed with the practice of marrying young girls off. And I knew it weighed heavily on him that one day, soon, the prospect of marriage would be brought up for his younger sister, Stella. Though he had already begun trying to find a way out of it for her.

Absently, I mulled over the possible escape that Elain had told me: to find someone I love, or could stand, of reasonable standing, before our engagement was publicly announced, and there was a chance I wouldn’t have to marry Tamlin. I remembered how when Elain had murmured that to me, my mind had instantly conjured an image of Rhys. I knew all  I had to do was ask, and he’d agree, but it was wrong. How could I take the remainder of his life from him, simply because I couldn’t stand my would-be fiance? It was the coward’s way out, and I knew in my heart that unless something major changed, I would be marrying Tamlin Greene.

I wouldn’t mention this to Rhys, because I knew that even if I didn’t tell him of what Elain had said, he would speak of it, and offer himself up. I knew how he hated Tamlin, and I knew how he would fight to keep me away from him, but it would cost him too much. He would risk going to war, his family’s wrath, and his own life. I shuddered at the thought, wrapping my arms around myself.

A hand waved in front of my vision. “Hello? Feyre Darling, what’s running through that pretty little head of yours?”

My head snapped up. “What?”

He chuckled, moving to lean against my column, his shoulder brushing against mine. “You looked a million miles away.” He murmured, shaking his head chidingly. “Now, let’s try this again. Want to go flying?”

Arms dropping to my sides, I grinned and huffed out a laugh. “Wow, seriously?”

Rhys grinned. “I’ve got all the time in the world, Darling.”

My smile faltered. Must be nice.

Looking away, I shook my head. It must be nice to have all the time in the world. To never concern yourself with marriages, and allies, foes and wars. I sighed, twirling a small strand of hair around my index finger. I knew the moment I married Tamlin, this, whatever it was with Rhys, would be gone. A chill ran down my spine at the thought, but still I forged ahead. Tamlin wouldn’t allow me out of his sight, I knew. I clenched my eyes shut, and released a harsh sigh. “Alright, fine. I’ll go flying with you.”

Rhysand instantly grinned, his violet eyes almost glowing as he did a small victory dance in place, that stupid grin turning cocky and arrogant.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my lips. “You’re pathetic, Rhys.”

His grin widened. “Only for you, Darling.”

My cheeks burned, so I shoved off the column, and began leading the way down the hall, with Rhys trailing at my heels, murmuring profanities and innuendos. We fell into relative silence as we wound through the corridors, and made our way down to the great lawn. 

Again, my mind began to wander. I knew Tamlin likely wouldn’t approve of my friendship with Rhys, and would probably demand that it end.  I also knew that if his prior actions were anything close to how he really was, that I would most likely never see my friend again. Elain had spent nearly every night since our parents had informed me of my would-be fiance, warning me of his secret mannerisms, and trying to get me to find another husband.

I knew that she was right, that there was no way I could ever be happy with Tamlin, and that if I were to fall in love, our parents would likely approve the marriage, but I would have to move quickly. The engagement would be announced within the next few weeks, and then there would be no turning back. But still, the only person I could ever fathom marrying was Rhys. But I simply couldn’t do that to him. He deserved so much better than me. And even though I knew he would say yes in a heartbeat, I just couldn’t. This was Rhys, whom I had known my entire life. Rhys, who had always been there for me, who had been my best friend for almost twenty-one years. I just couldn’t ask him to throw the remainder of his life away for me, simply because I didn’t like my future fiance. 

Making up my mind, I decided that I wouldn’t bring up this with Rhys. I would enjoy these last few weeks with him, before I became a pawn in the eons old game of our world. I would treasure these last few weeks where we could go and sneak out, do whatever we wished. And I would make these the best weeks of my life.

Rhys nudged my arm, drawing me from my thoughts. I found that we were just out of sight from the servants in the great lawn, our figures obscured by the trees. I looked back to him, and found him grinning that impish grin that he only ever had around Stella and I. “Race you to the bluff,” He said, stepping a few feet away, “I win, and you owe me a favor. You win, favor’s yours.”

I grinned back, and nodded excitedly.

We both crouched down, and Rhys began to count down. “3...2...1...HEY!”

I had taken off before he finished the countdown, laughing impishly. Rhys was shouting profanities after me, and struggling to catch up.

My feet pounded against the forest floor in a hypnotizing rhythmic silence. The late autumn breeze bit at my cheeks, stinging them a rosy pink. At some point, I stopped hearing him crash through the underbrush, shouting obscenities and threats.

When I knew we were long out of earshot from the palace, I let out a cackling laugh, and savored the way my voice echoed off the mountains surrounding the Fae Palace of Autumn. The sun shone through the trees in select places, almost seeming to highlight the subtle beauties of the forest.

Feet rushing over logs and ravines alike, I allowed the worries of my life to be stripped away by the wind, and the ever growing distance from the palace. It felt as if with each step I took, my problems faded, becoming increasingly smaller, until they vanished completely.

Up ahead, I saw our bluff. The trees were different than they had been the last time we came here, when I was thirteen, and Rhys sixteen. I remembered how small and insignificant I had felt, staring over that ledge. The trees had seemed impossibly small, the surrounding mountains reminding me that while I was immortal, my life was fleeting. I remembered how Rhys and I had leapt over that ledge together, plummeting towards those impossibly small trees, until his wings had appeared, and he had scooped me up, as we soared towards the mountains in the distance.

I skidded to a stop, just before the edge, sending a spray of dirt and pebbles over the edge. As always, I felt shivers run down my spine, as my muscles tensed. I almost laughed at how nothing had changed in this forest. The Great Mountain still was barely visible in the distance, the trees acting as a red, golden and green carpet towards that giant, looming rock. Heavy, dark clouds obscured the peak from view.

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. Rather than jump, I just calmly glanced back towards Rhys, who was simply taking in the view. His jaw wasn’t set, as it often was in the palace. His shoulders weren’t tensed, and his hands were resting on his hips. Those violet eyes were unguarded, raking over the landscape. My eyes began moving down, and I nearly started at how close we were, a heavy blush warming my cheeks. He was nearly pressed against my back, only a few inches separating us.

At last, Rhys sighed, dragging his eyes away from the view ahead of us. He rubbed at his eyes, as if to wipe away invisible tears. “Wow,” He murmured, at last meeting my gaze, “it looks exactly the same.”

I gave him a soft smile, grateful for the wind giving an excuse to my blush. “I know.”

He only smiled sweetly back, his gaze holding mine for more than a few seconds too long. Then his signature smirk returned. “Ready, Feyre Darling?”

Grinning, I shoved at his shoulder, and paced a few meters away from the edge. “Don’t call me that.” I griped, though there was no malice behind it. 

Rhys only grinned, and followed me. “Ladies first,” he teased.

Faltering, I gave him a blank look. “After you, then. I insist.”

Glaring at me, Rhys crossed his arms and shook his head. “That favor’s mine. You know that, right?”

I blanched. “What?!”

He grinned wickedly. “You cheated, therefore, you forfeit the winnings to me.”

I snarled at him, racking my brain for any possible loophole. And when I found none, I called him a foul name. Rhys only smiled, and bowed mockingly.

Annoyance pulsed through me, and I gave him a vulgar gesture , then took off. Unlike before, my feet pounded violently against the rock, echoing off the mountains. As I quickly approached the edge, I took a deep breath, then leaped.

I almost seemed to hover in midair for a few seconds, momentum carrying me further and further from that ledge. Then gravity caught up, and I began to fall, wind whipping violently at my hair and clothes as adrenaline set my heart pounding too hard, it must have been heard back at the palace. The golden-red canopy below was rapidly approaching, but I paid it no attention, my eyes instead trained on Rhys, who had leaped only a second after me. His eyes were trained on mine, as he seemed to tear through the air, growing increasingly closer to me, his powerful wings ripping from his back.

Those strong arms wrapped around me, drawing me tight against him only milliseconds before I would have crashed into the trees. His wings beat powerfully, carrying us up, up, up. Slowly, we began to readjust ourselves, one of my arms coming to wrap around his neck, as he maneuvered an arm underneath my knees, the other winding around my back. My head came to rest on his shoulder, my free arm placed on his chest.

At last, the beats of his wings evened out, coming every few seconds in a relaxing rhythm.  I gave him a few moments to relax, and gather his bearings, before I pinched him.

“What the hell was that for?” He blurted indignantly, glaring at me.

I made a sour face. “Cutting it a bit close there, weren’t we?” I said sweetly.

He made a grunting noise, then shifted me roughly. “And?”

I scoffed, slapping his arm. Not enough to hurt, nowhere even close. “I nearly hit the trees!” I griped.

Those violet eyes shifted keenly, a smarmy smirk slithering onto his lips. “Ah, yes. That.” He teased, giving me a fake apologetic look. “Nearly, being the key word there, Darling.”

I squawked indignantly, shaking my head. “Rhysand, you prick-” I started.

“Now, now, Feyre dearest. One bad leap and you’re back to calling me Rhysand?” He gave me a hurt look, pretending he was about to cry. “I’m hurt, I thought we were past that.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re a prick.”

That smarmy smirk returned. “You love it.”

I couldn’t stop my smile, and allowed my head to once again rest on his shoulder.

After a while, the steady, booming beats of his wings, and the warmth he radiated began to turn my eyelids heavy, and I soon fell asleep in his arms. The rushing of the wind against me, accompanied by Rhys’s arms holding me tight, quickly whisked me off to a land of dreams.

What awoke me was the change in the wind, as Rhys began to angle us downwards, aiming for an open meadow. Unable to stop myself, I let out a yawn, and stretched my arms out as we landed on the grassy knoll. My knuckle brushed against a whorl of his tattoo, peeking out from the collar of his tailored jacket. Rhys glanced down at me, a small smile on his lips. “Well look who decided to join the land of the living,” he teased, murmuring softly.

Blushing, I found it hard to meet his gaze. “I was tired.” I hissed. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” His smile only widened, and he set me down, though I kept that one arm wrapped around his neck, without realizing.

“Oh, really?” He purred, one hand coming to rest on my hip, the simple gesture sending bolts of fire racing through me.  I could only nod in response, finding it difficult to meet his gaze. Rhys leaned forward, his breath warming my cold ears. “And what, pray tell, were you doing, Darling?”

My eyes widened, and I shoved him away. “Rhysand!” I snapped, taking a good few steps away. He was bent over, hands braced on his knees, laughing himself hoarse. “You’re a prick!” I grumbled, crossing my arms. He only laughed harder, until he fell over, wheezing like a drowning mole. Then he laid on the ground, cackling and snorting and coughing and wheezing.

After afew minutes, I sat down on the silky grass, crossing my legs beneath me. “Are you quite finished there, Oh High and mighty Prince Rhysand?”

He chuckled, then at last looked over at me. And it felt as if the air had been ripped from my lungs. He was absolutely gorgeous. The sparing rays of sunlight landed just so on his eyes, setting them from a deep violet to something akin to a glowing, midnight flame. His inky hair held an almost otherworldly glow to it. It made my fingers itch for a pen and paper, to capture this.

That smile changed, to something that I didn’t dare try to comprehend.

Instead, I continued studying him, trying to memorize the way the sunlight hit his angled face, how it warmed his skin tone,and amplified his already sharp cheekbones.

“What’re you looking at?” He murmured, moving to prop his head up with one arm.

I nearly chastised him for moving, but stopped at the last second, having decided I liked this angle better. “I’m going to draw you,” I replied, my eyes continuing to rove over his face and shoulders. “This angle suits you.” There was no embarrassment behind my words, no blushing. Rhys knew I loved to draw, knew I had countless sketches of him scattered throughout my small studio back home.

Rhys just kept that soft smile, though it turned slightly wicked, as that glint shone in his eyes. “You know, Darling. I’ve told you many times just how willing I am to model nude for you.”

I only scoffed, rolling my eyes.

The wickedness vanished from his eyes. He held my gaze as he waved one hand, and a sketchbook appeared, a piece of charcoal rolling on top. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head, as I scampered out to take it from him. I didn’t want to decipher what that gleam in his eyes were, or what it could mean for us. So instead, I simply sat cross legged a few feet from him, and began to sketch.

We stayed quiet for a while, with me sketching, and glancing up every few moments, with Rhys just lounging like the lazy cat he was. I chuckled at the thought; Rhys as a lazy cat, and quickly sketched down a rough drawing of a small, black cat sleeping in the sun, then returned to my main drawing. “What’s so funny?” He said, narrowing his eyes playfully.

I chuckled, moving to have a better view of his eyes. “I was just thinking… You’re not that different from a house cat.”

He scoffed, holding my gaze. “How so?”

I gave a small smile. “You purr, sleep in the sun, and are the laziest person I know.”

His jaw dropped. “How dare you.” He hissed in mock offense.

I grinned, shifting to lay on my stomach, drawing now long forgotten. “Am I wrong?” I murmured. 

Rhys shifted to mirror my position, our faces only a few inches apart. “You’re gonna pay.”

I Leaned closer, our noses nearly brushing. “Oh, really?”

No sooner had the words left my mouth, than he had pounced, landing gracefully on top of me, knees braced on the ground, as he tickled me. I shrieked in indignance, shoving at him as I cackled, tears streaming down my cheeks. He only paused his torment to lean down. “Apologize.” He murmured in my ear, glaring down.

“Never.” I swore, glaring right back up at him. He made to resume his torment, but I moved too quickly, shifting us to that he was the one pinned down, his wings slamming against the grass with a harsh thunk. I winced, and withdrew slightly. When Rhys didn’t shove me off, I leaned down to snarl in his ear. I pretended not to notice how informal he was around me. Not in regards to manners, but his wings. I knew how important they were to an Illyrian, and what it meant for him to allow me to be so close to them. Then,  pinning his wrists down, I whispered,  “There’s nothing you can do to make me apologize.” I saw the spark of challenge in his eyes less than a second before he lunged for me, as I dodged him, throwing myself to the side. For a split second, I could have sworn he was blushing madly. 

I started laughing, then a heavy weight - Rhys - slammed into me, and sent us rolling down the hill. I swore as a clump of dirt slammed into me, but kept laughing as we rolled, each shoving and lunging at the other, trying to gain the upper hand. Rhys was laughing so loud I was sure they could hear it all the way back in Velaris, but I didn’t care, because he was happy.

We kept our game going, of shoving and tackling and tickling the other, until we rolled down a particularly rough patch of vegetation. I let out a sharp curse as something painful scraped across my back, and I jerked away.

Distantly, I heard running water. Then Rhys began swearing.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Before I could ask, he was shoving me over him, to rest on his chest. His arms held me steadfast as his wings cocooned us in. His forehead pressed into my neck, and over his shoulder, I could just see whirling trees and twigs and leaves and branches as we tumbled roughly down the hillside.

We slammed into something hard, and Rhys let out a sharp grunt, tightening his grip on me, becoming near painful, as we slowed to a stop. He held onto me for a little while longer, before his wings slowly unfurled, and he let out a pained groan, his head thunking onto the sand below us.

I sat up, bracing my knees on either side of his hips as my head spun so wildly I had to put my hands on his chest to keep from falling over. After a few moments, I glanced around. We were a few meters away from a small river, glistening in the sunlight as it trickled over and around stones. My gaze returned to Rhys, who was panting slightly beneath me, his eyes clenched shut. I made to move away, but he quickly stopped me with a hand on my knee. “No, please. Don’t.”

Glaring down, I was about to make a snarky remark about our position, but when I saw his face, the words died on my lips. “Rhys, are you alright?” His eyes were clenched shut, I had thought, from vertigo. But now I could see a single tear sliding from his eye. “Rhys, please, you need to answer me, alright?” My voice was more panicked now, as my hands fluttered worryingly around his head, unsure of what to do.

“I just, j-just need a minute, okay? I’m fine, I swear.”

My heart clenched. “Bullshit, Rhys.” I murmured, allowing one hand to go rest against his cheek. “No, no. Don’t lie. Not to me.” He slowly began to relax, and leaned into my hand. My heart pounded way harder than it should have.

Rhys slowly opened his eyes. “Ngh…my wing, it….shit.”

I nodded, thumb stroking his cheekbone. “Alright, alright just breathe, okay? Where does it hurt?”

He made a gesture with his hand, and I quickly moved off of him, one of my hands going to brace his shoulders, the other going to clasp his hand, helping him to slowly move to a sitting position. Rhys let out a deep groan, clenching my hand so tight that I had to grit my teeth.

Once he was upright, I slowly maneuvered myself behind him, in a low crouch. One hand remaining on his shoulder, holding both of us steady. “Shit.” I breathed, eyes trailing over his wings. Countless cuts and scrapes were raw and bleeding, but that wasn’t what concerned me. It was the joint I could see which was clearly dislocated.

Rhys let out a tight breath. “It’s bad?”

“Could be worse.” I muttered, moving over to the rushing water, and cupping some in my hands. It wasn’t a lie; it could have most definitely been worse, but that by no means meant his injuries were good. I returned to his wings, and carefully dribbled it over the countless cuts, and gently cleaned them of the dirt that had become lodged. The only sign of his discomfort was several, measured breaths.  Once that was done, I dried my hands on my pants, and braced them on his shoulders. “This is going to hurt, alright?” 

I didn’t miss the intake of breath, or the slight tensing of his shoulders. I prepared myself to reassure him, knowing how sensitive he was in regards to his wings. Knew how difficult it was for him to let anyone be near them, let alone touch them.

He nodded, looking over his shoulder to meet my gaze. “I trust you.”

My throat burned painfully, and my eyes became lined with silver. I cleared my throat, and quickly set about moving the joint back into its proper place. I knew it hurt, hurt like hell. But Rhys was taking it in stride, only letting out a few sharp grunts as I worked. At last, I finished, and sat back on my heels.

No sooner had my hands left his wings, than they vanished with a puff of smoke, and he fell back into my lap, head resting on my thigh. I knew he had sent them off to some pocket dimension to heal, which they could do much quicker there than here. Rhys let out a sharp huff, and wound one arm around my waist, drawing me to rest up against his stomach. We were in a strange circle, his head on my thigh, me leaning against his side, as we had done when we were children. Slowly, I began to relax, and even went so far as to move so that I could use his stomach as a pillow, without disturbing his head.

“Thank you, Feyre.” He said, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it.

“Of course.” I murmured, my eyes trained on the sky overhead. I’d never liked the Autumn Kingdom. It was always just the slightest bit too blustery, too cold. I knew some of our friends, Thesan and Cresseida, agreed. In the past, when the alliance held their meetings here, I had rarely gone outside, because the Autumn kingdom reminded me far too much of a cold spring day. Bile threatened to rise in my throat as I realized that the Spring Kingdom was like this for a majority of the year, only raining. I’d likely rarely ever see a clear sky, let alone a night sky. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away, and shoved the intrusive thoughts from my head, only to realize that Rhys was talking to me. His eyebrows were drawn together, his eyes slightly sorrowful.

“...really sorry, Feyre. It’ll heal quickly, but I don’t think I can fly us out tonight. I can’t winnow, either. All of my magic is going towards healing my wings. I’m so, so sorry.”

I gripped his hand tightly, even as dread pooled in my gut. “Rhys, don’t worry about it. Everything will be alright, I can take care of this.” Biting my lip, I internally worried about what would happen back at the palace, as we hadn’t informed anyone where we were going. I sent up a silent prayer that Stella would cover for us.

I glanced warily around us. While there weren’t many creatures worth fearing in the Autumn Kingdom, certainly none so close to the palace, it still wasn’t a good idea to remain out in the open, and risk exposure. My eyes tracked the rhythmic swaying of the trees, the ever shrinking distance between us, and those grey clouds which I now knew to be storm clouds. Roving up the hillside, I quickly scanned back and forth up the mountain. At last, I spotted a small cave part of the way up the hill opposite us, across the river. I decided that I would give him some time to rest, before asking him to begin trekking to that cave.

Shifting, I allowed my head to nuzzle into his stomach, and I gazed up into the sky, savoring the warm rays of sunlight on my face. Almost instantly, his fingers began running through my hair, twisting the strands gently, as he took deep, even breaths. I focused on the sunlight, and his fingers running through my hair, as he breathed evenly. Against my will, my mind began to wander to my would-be fiance, and his court. 

How they viewed themselves as above their people, and ruled with an iron fist. I knew that would no doubt extend to me. That by this  time next year, I would be married, would be Tamlin’s property. I knew how he treated women, how he controlled them. I would be expected to churn out heir after heir, and be there whenever he wanted to make love. I would be expected to lose myself in him, to give over to his every whim. I was to become his dutiful wife, even if it destroyed me. Never again would I be allowed to run free in the forest, or not care whether there were sticks and brush tangled in the honeyed strands. I would be expected to always look my best, to never have an off day or speak back. I was to become his dutiful, obeying, beautiful, silent, loving, and demure wife.

Something in my chest crunched so viciously it hurt. He would destroy me, in every way and every facet. There would be nothing of me left; he would remold me into his perfect wife, bedmate. He would ruin me and turn me into nothing. And I had no choice.

Elain’s offer rang loudly in my ear: To find someone else, fast. To find someone who Tamlin wouldn’t dare challenge. But the only person he wouldn’t dare go against was Rhysand. And even if I put my worries about ruining him aside, even if I chose to be selfish and save myself, it was no guarantee I would be free. The union would have to be approved by both of our families, and my secret would no doubt be revealed. And so I had no choice.

Looking up, my eyes snagged on Rhys, his calm expression warmed by the sun. Completely unworried and unfazed by the world of palaces and kingdoms we had left behind. “I’m going to miss this.” The words were out before I could stop them, small and scared. I clamped a hand over my mouth, as if that would draw them back in. I watched as his eyes slowly opened, as they searched for me. I watched as they narrowed slightly, as he slowly sat up, never once breaking my gaze.

My breathing quickened, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

“What did you say?”

I couldn’t-couldn’t do this. I didn’t want his pity. I didn’t want to see him freeze, how I knew he would pause, grow still. Internally raging that I was to be given away like a prized dog. It would be easier, so much easier if he found out when the rest of the world did, if he were to assume I was happy with my husband. That this was what I wanted.

And so I leaped to my feet, turning to the side so I could dry my eyes. “Nothing! I didn’t say anything.” I knew better than to look back at him, where he could almost certainly read the lie in my posture alone. Mercifully, he didn’t question me, only giving a small grunt. “Come on.” I said, slipping my leather boots, and socks off, rolling up the cuffs of my pants so that they rested just above my knees. “We need to find shelter, there’s a cave up there.” 

I kept several steps ahead of Rhys as we crossed the river, the water bitingly cold against my lower legs. At one point, I had stepped on a slippery rock, and lost my balance. He caught me, drawing me against his chest, his breaths fanning across my face. It was too difficult to look him in the eyes, so I just stared at his collarbone, the outline of which I could see through his shirt. After a few moments, I shoved away roughly, my heart pounding wildly. Frigid water splashed around me, as I stomped across the remaining few meters of the river. 

Rhys let out a huff, amusedly watching me furiously shove my shocks and boots on.

I silenced him with a sharp glare.

He held up his hands in mock surrender, smirking.

The simple action set my lower lip trembling, as my eyes filled with tears. I pushed off from the log I had perched on, ignoring his questioning look. I again wiped at my eyes as I began to ascend the hillside. Behind me, Rhys was crashing loudly through the underbrush, no doubt in annoyance. Thankfully, this hill was nowhere near as steep as the one we had tumbled down, little more than a slightly steep incline.

Behind me, Rhys began grumbling to himself. “...females...Who the hell...they’re thinking?...”

A short distance from the cave, I whirled on him, my face burning in anger. “Do you have something to say to me?” He blinked in surprise, eyes going almost comically wide, as he opened and closed his mouth. “No? Then shut up.” Rhys flinched, and I nearly apologized. But I turned, and stormed the rest of the way to the cave, glaring furiously into it, daring anything within to make its presence known. 

When nothing did, I waved him forward.

Rhys was panting, his brow glistening with sweat. He made to reach an arm out to me, but I shoved past him, moving to a small crack in the stone. I knelt down, and used my magic to create a small, gurgling stream. Then, I went to the back of the cave, which was maybe four meters from the entrance, and kicked some dried out sticks into a small pile, before lighting them. He carefully moved towards the small pile, eyeing me cautiously, before kneeling down, and warming his hands. I shrugged my jacket off, and threw it down across from him.

I spent the next several hours bringing in any grass and leaves I could find which weren’t too dried out, and putting them into a large pile. After my sixth or so trip to drop off foliage, Rhys at last spoke up. “What are you doing?” His voice was small, cautious. I hated that my words had clearly hurt him so much, but I knew it would be easier for him to believe that I was happy, if he was angry with me.

But I still couldn’t bring myself to snap again. “Gathering things to serve as our beds.”

He swallowed. “Beds, plural?” I nodded, and he licked his lips before continuing. “Um, logistically, wouldn’t it, uh, make more sense to share one?” 

I scoffed, throwing down the armload of grass. “Of course you’d say that.” I muttered.

Rhys gave me a withering look. “For warmth, Feyre. Nothing else.”

Sighing, I dropped to my knees, and began to spread out the foliage across the stone floor.

No sooner had I finished that, than it began pouring, the rain coming down so hard and fast that it richocched back up several inches. Rhys managed to scrape enough of his power together to place a small shield over the entrance to the cave. Once that was done, I moved to the corner opposite Rhys, and hugged my knees to my chest, eyes staring unseeingly into the fire.

Rhys tried to make light conversation several times, but I ignored him in favor of watching the twisting flames. After about an hour of tense silence, I pulled my jacket on again, and curled up in a small ball, trying to take up the least amount of space possible on our makeshift bed.

I was running, running as quickly as my feet would allow.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst, or worse, reveal my location. I crashed through the undergrowth, into a small clearing full of wildflowers. My stomach heaved at the sight. I hated wildflowers, their too-bright colors, and sickeningly sweet scent. He knew this, and yet they were still my wedding gift.

Blood dripped from the raw, gaping wounds on my arm, falling down, down, down, to splatter on a hideous pink rose. My fingers itched for a piece of charcoal, but I knew it would be useless in my hands. I hadn’t drawn in years; it was one of the first things he had demanded I stop. ‘Too messy,’ he said, or ‘too unladylike.’

Distantly, a ferocious roar shook the trees, and my blood turned to ice.

He knew. He knew I had left, and he was coming for me.

Again, I broke into a run. My flimsy pink slippers had long since fallen away, and now my feet were pounding against the coarse dirt and rocks, bleeding with every step. 

The roars grew closer, accompanied by thundering footsteps.

I knew this was my only chance, and so I pushed harder, until the air was fire in my lungs and each step and breath felt like I was dying. 

The roars turned into huffing, animalistic breaths, and those thundering footsteps sounded from right behind me. Paralyzing fear sent my blood to burning ice, tears streaming freely down my face.

Terror urged me to go faster, but I was ripped back by something agonizing wrapping around my wrists and ankles, cutting into them, and forcing me to the ground on my back. A heavy, suffocating paw slams to the ground, millimeters from my head. I am helpless as a horned wolf snarls down at me. I attempt to clench my eyes shut, anything, anything to escape from this hell.

The creature roars in my face, so deafeningly loud that my ears ring.

Sobbing, I open my eyes to gaze into that of my husband.

The throned vines around my wrists and ankles tighten, blood gushing from the wounds they inflict.

“I warned you, Feyre.” Tamlin snarls at me.

I open my mouth to beg for forgiveness, but a swipe of his paw, and my throat is slit, and I bleed to death.

I awake shrieking, trembling in every limb, my body soaked in sweat. I make to roll over, to move, do anything to assure myself that it was just a nightmare. It is then that I am made aware of the form hovering over me.

I clench my eyes shut, arms coming up to block my face, legs kicking wildly.

Strong hands grip my upper arms, and haul me against a warm, hard chest. I continued fighting and thrashing, until I felt the hands stroking my hair, and recognized that voice. “Feyrefeyrefeyrefeyrefeyrefeyre,” Rhys was murmuring, over and over into my hair.

I stilled, allowing the hot tears to fall.

He held me tighter, cradling me sweetly, as he said my name like a prayer.

Without thinking, my hands wound around his waist to hug him closer, every single part of me burning.

An untold amount of time later, we slowly began to part, and I found my face burning.

Rhys silently shifts us so that he is leaning against the cave wall, with me sideways across his lap.

He still cradles me against his chest, one hand running soothingly up and down my arm,  and my breathing begins to even out. After a while, he turns his head to gaze at me, his nose brushing mine. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, and pressed my forehead into the crook of his neck. “It was a nightmare.” I whispered. He pressed a kiss to the crown of my head, waiting for me to continue. “I...it was about..about…” My voice cracks, and the tears begin to flow. He rubbed soothing circle on my back. I took several deep breaths, and clenched my eyes shut. “..it was about my fiance.”

He stilled, that hand on my back freezing in place. “Your what.”

I hated the words as soon  as they left my lips, and began to untangle myself from him. Rhys simply held me in place, firm enough to keep me still, yet loose enough that I could leave if I wished. I didn’t. I wanted him to hold me, and say that this was all just a bad dream. Again, I allowed him to pull me close, and again I rested my head in the crook of his neck. Taking a steadying breath, I began. “My fiance, Rhys.”

Remaining still, I could feel his slow breathing. I knew he was trying to discern what to feel. “Who?”

I choked on a sob, pushing impossibly closer to him.

Rhys reacted instantly, seeming to wrap his entire being around me. “Oh, Feyre Darling, no, no, please don’t cry.” He murmured, even as I felt his tears on my shoulder. “Please don’t cry, I’ll fix this. I’ll fix this, I promise you.”

I hiccupped, and sniffled. “You can’t.” I whispered.

“I will.” He vowed, running his fingers through my hair.

Pulling back, I braced both of my hands on his shoulders, and firmly met his gaze. “Rhysand, listen to me. I do not want you to fix this, it’s not worth it.” Rhys opened his mouth to protest, but I interrupted him. “It’s too dangerous, and it’s not worth it.”

Rhys stared me down. “Feyre, it is worth it. I don’t care if it kills me, I’ll fix it. You don’t deserve this.”

Fresh tears sprung to my eyes, but I ignored them. “No, no. You don’t understand. It’s too dangerous!” I insisted, begging him to believe me.

Again, he stared me down, then gently began wiping my tears away.

“Rhys,” I began, trying to not savor the way his fingers felt against my cheekbone, “it’s Tamlin.”

Everything froze. The rain outside, the cracking of the fire, Rhys’s heartbeat, his breathing. Everything.

He let out a small whimper, drawing me back against him. 

After we parted, he held my face reverently in his hands. The look in his eyes would have brought me to my knees, had I been standing. Even then, I had the distinct feeling of falling as I gazed into his eyes. “Feyre, I do not care what happens to me, whether I live or die. I do not care whether I need to wage a war, or kill him myself. But believe me when I say this: You will not marry Tamlin unless it is your choice, and only yours.”

His words crashed into me with the force of a tidal wave, washing away everything I felt. No, not everything. It washed away everything save for that small, miniscule word that had been echoing in my head for years, since I had first learned of what it meant, that I was too much of a coward to face. Rhys sweetly pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, as he studied my face. “Why?” I rasped, searching his eyes. “W-why would you do this for me?”

Something faltered in his gaze. His hand dropped from my face. “Because we’re friends.” He said monotonously. 

I shook my head, my eyebrows drawing together. “No, Rhys. Friendship is...it’s loaning your friend a coat when they’re cold. Not… this. This...you’re threatening to go to war for me. You’re risking your life, your kingdom. Why?”

Rhysand became quiet, simply observing me. Tracking over every feature of my face. I didn’t miss how they lingered on my lips for several seconds too long, before drifting down to where his hands rested on my waist. “Because I care about you.”

Confusion and disappointment lanced through me. “I care about you, too-” 

“No, Feyre.” He uttered, shaking his head. “You don’t get it.” At last, he met my gaze again. He took a deep breath, and clenched his jaw. “I care about you. As more than a friend, Feyre.”

My world went silent, save for the roaring that began in my ears. “What?” The word was little more than a gasp.

Another deep breath. “I...I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Fey.” He murmured, a hand coming up to rest on the back of my neck. “And how could I not? Yo-you’re strong, you’re confident, beautiful. You’re perfect. And I can’t stand the idea of anyone hurting you. The thought of you in pain, it… it’s worse than anything I’ve ever known. Worse than death. And...I understand if you don’t want this. Just say the word, and we’ll pretend that none of this ever happened, a-”

I snapped, tears streaming freely down my face. I closed the distance between us, crushing my lips to his. Rhys was frozen for just a moment, then he held me close. So close it was as if he was trying to mold us into one being. Our lips moved together as if this were a dance they had done since the beginning of time, two star crossed lovers who at last met. 

Rhys kept one hand cupping my jaw, the other going to my hip. I plunged my fingers into his hair, and savored the way they glided across my skin. Tugging on the ends, I drew him closer, and moved so that I was partially straddling his lap. That hand on my hip began to drift lower, until it was cupping my behind. Rhys began placing soft, sensual kisses down my jaw, and to my neck. He drifted down to where my coat ended, and pushed it aside, beginning to suck and bite gently on the skin there. I let out a low groan, and my knees gave out. I was now fully straddling him, and it felt like the answer to a question I had asked for my entire life. 

I managed to stop his sinful assault, to meet his gaze. I knew I needed to get the words out now, while I still had the courage. “Rhysand…” I began, suddenly finding it so, so difficult to look him in the eyes without grinning stupidly. “I have loved you since the day you strutted into my life. You somehow always put a smile on my face, and I will always be grateful for that.”

His eyes softened, and he kissed me sweetly, softly. “I love you.” 

My heart began pounding so hard that he grinned wickedly, leaning forward to kiss me tortuously, his tongue tracing my lips. I opened for him, my arms wrapping around his neck to secure him to me. And my world went white.

He slowly lowered us to the ground, one hand remaining on my hip, the other twining into my hair as he braced himself up with an elbow. 

My entire being felt as if it were on fire, zinging with electricity. Rhys pulled away for a split second to look me in the eyes, love and reverence shining clear as day, before pressing several more sweet kisses to my lips. He looked at me as if I were a goddess, made of stars and moonlight, as if I were his greatest treasure. “I love you, so much.” He said, those violet eyes roving over my face. I had lost track of how many times I had seen him do that tonight, as though he was drinking me in.

Again, my heart pounded in response, and he grinned wickedly.

His head dipped down to my collarbone, placing sweet, loving kisses across it, and I couldn’t help my gasp, that hand in his hair tightening its grip. His grin turned even more wicked, and he began to descend lower, pressing kiss after sweet kiss to my ribs, then my stomach, then hips. When he reached the button of my pants, he looked up, eyes seeking permission. Internally, I began to grow nervous, though I didn’t know why. This was Rhys, and he loved me, respected me. So why was I nervous?

Whatever he saw in them had him nodding slightly, and kissing his way back up to my lips. I made to kiss him again, but he stopped me with a gentle hand on my shoulder, rolling over to lay beside me. “Hold on,” He chuckled, grinning as I pouted, “I want to say something.”

My face again grew hot, and I hid my face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” I groaned, hating the embarrassment cascading through me, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just-”

Hands caressed my back. “Hey, no, no. Look at me, Feyre, please.” I don’t know what I expected, but it was the opposite of what I found. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t angry. If anything, he looked concerned. Resting a hand on my waist, he said, “You said no, and you don’t owe me an explanation. You decided that you weren't ready, and I respect that. It’s your body, therefore your decision.”

My lower lip began trembling, and I threw my arms around him again. “Thank you, Rhys.”

He held me tightly, enough so that I could feel his smile against my neck. “Of course, Darling.”

“I love you,” I whispered, feeling Rhys tense, then his grip tightened on me. Hot tears again soaked through my shirt, and so I held him as he sobbed, murmuring into his hair how much I loved him. His breathing remained uneven for a long while, breaths coming in gasps and pants. I only held him tighter, trying to communicate my love through that.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, until we fell asleep listening to the other’s heartbeat, but it was long enough for the fire to burn out, and the sun to rise just over the trees. It wasn’t until our stomachs began to grumble viciously, that we at last began to stir.

Rhysand was the first to stand, stretching his arms above his head, and groaning. I could only clench my teeth, and continue lacing up my boots, even as my face flushed. He noticed this, leaning down to press a surprisingly hesitant kiss to my lips, his normally wicked grin slightly off. “Something bothering you, Feyre Darling?”

My blush deepened. “No?” I stammered, my face absolutely burning.

That grin softened, and he reached out to stroke my hair. “Are you alright with breaking camp so I can go stretch my wings?”

I fought the urge to point out that there was no camp to break, and nodded, smiling tightly. 

Rhys gave me a grateful nod, and murmured, “I love you, Feyre.” before striding out of the cave.

Shaking my head, I idled around the cave, kicking at the remains of the fire, and scattering the leaves of our makeshift bed around, and flopping down to lean against the wall. I stared at my hands, not really seeing them. What was going on? Why was he suddenly closed off? I thought back to everything that had happened last night, and couldn’t think of anything I had done to upset him. When we had fallen asleep, Rhys seemed happy. But now, he seemed more withdrawn. Almost anxious. Glancing up, I was surprised to find that nearly an hour had passed. I knew that the longer we stayed out, the harder it would be for Stella to cover for us.

I clambered to my feet, and made my way out to the front of the cave. Glancing around, I was surprised to find that I didn’t see Rhys anywhere. After a few minutes of looking around, I spotted him leaning against a large rock, turned partway away from me. 

Slowly, I began meandering towards him. 

Only when I was a few steps away did Rhys realize my presence. He jumped slightly, whirling to face me. “Feyre!” He exclaimed, quickly swiping several tears from his face. “Darling, what are you doing?”

My eyes lingered on the tear-tracks, glistening in the sun, debating whether or not I should ask. “I was just coming to tell you we should leave soon.” I didn’t ask why he had been crying.

  When he turned to check on the position of the sun, I got a full view of him, the Prince of Darkness, and his glorious wings. Something in my chest snapped, and I thought something had ripped every last shred of oxygen from my being. One hand flew up to grasp at my throat, as the other lashed out wildly, trying to find something to brace myself on.

Rhys was instantly in front of me, hands on my shoulders to steady me, saying something. Trying to get my attention.

But I didn’t notice, didn’t see, didn’t hear, didn’t feel  anything other than the word clanging through my very soul: Mate, mate, mate, he is your mate. He is your other half, your equal. He is your mate.

My breaths began to come faster and faster, in increasingly heavier pants, as I struggled to get any air.

Slowly, the world began to come back to me, as if everything I knew hadn’t been turned on its head. I focused on Rhysand, to find that he was cupping my face, trying to coax me to breathe. Looking at him, good god it hurt. It felt like he was simultaneously my destruction and my salvation. Everywhere he touched burned, burned with electricity coursing through my veins.

Somehow, I managed to hold up a hand, and somehow Rhys knew what I meant, taking a step back. I inhaled deeply, finally able to breathe. I clenched my eyes shut, trying to clear my head of the burning and roaring, and Rhys. Everything was Rhys, all I could see, smell, hear. I could taste him, my lips tingling with the phantom whispers of our most recent kiss. I blocked everything out, gulping down air as quickly as I could, until I felt close to normal again.

At last, I managed to look Rhys in the eyes without immediately feeling as if I was about to combust. “Y-you…you’re my mate.” I managed, the words feeling strange on my tongue.

Rhys only nodded, his forehead becoming beaded with sweat. “I know, Feyre. And you’re mine.”

Confusion lanced through me, and I pushed off the rock. “What do you mean ‘you know’?” 

Then realization slammed in to me: He had been crying. Had… had that been related to this?

“Last night,” He answered quickly, “before we fell asleep, you said you loved me.”

So it had been related.

I nodded, remembering how he had reacted, and forced myself to meet his gaze. From the look in his eyes, Rhys looked as if he felt the same way I did, his eyes nearly glowing. I licked my lips. “What now?” I whispered. “What do we do?”

His eyes tracked that, darkening hungrily. He took a step forward, one hand bracing himself against the stone. Our chests pressed together, he pushed a strand of hair aside, and leaned down to murmur in my ear, “So, so many things to choose from, Darling.”

I gasped, one hand going to his shoulder, as his lips made contact with my neck. If I had thought his kisses last night were incredible, these...these were absolutely world ending. Every single part of me burned, yearning to feel more of him, touch more of him.

When he finally pulled back, I wasted no time in flipping us, mindful of his wings, and pinned him to the stone wall. I was pleased to find him blushing, that tan skin beautifully reddened. Giving him my best imitation of his smirk, he let out a whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

Then I kissed him, and the world exploded in stars.

I lost track of how long we kissed, and returned to my body to find that Rhys had buried his fingers in my hair. I pulled back, studying him. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted and swollen, blushing madly as he panted. Even though I likely looked much the same, I grinned, and attached my lips to the underside of his jaw. He let out a muffled groan, his head falling back against the stone. I continued working down his jaw, until I reached his ear. 

Teasingly, I bit at the skin below to see how he would react. He moaned, that hand in my hair tugging, tugging, tugging. Then I moved to his wings, drawing a nail against it, or pressing sweet, fluttering kisses to the most sensitive parts. Rhys became putty in my hands, his eyes clenched shut as I worked him.

At last, we parted, and he stared me in the eyes, trying to convey so, so many things.

“What now?” I said, echoing my previous question.

That wicked smirk I loved so much finally returned. “I’ll tell you this, Darling.” He said, thumbs drawing sweetly back and forth on my sides. “There is no way in hell you’re marrying Tamlin.”

“No,” I agreed, smiling softly, “I’m not.”

“That’s because you’re marrying me.”

All those years, all those days, crashed into me. Feyre Darling. He had been trying to tell me… All those years, mating bond or no, he planned to marry me. Rhysand Darling, Feyre Darling. How had I never realized it? He had been hinting his feelings, his love. Over twenty years of murmured endearments, teasing declarations of adoration, and reassuring touches. It had all been real.

And so I looked up to him, my mind utterly clear, and murmured, “Yes I am, my darling Rhys.”

His eyes softened, and his lips parted. He smiled that sweet smile that was so utterly him, and kissed me tenderly, murmuring countless times, “I love you, I love you, my Darling Feyre, my mate, my world.”

Just like that, deep in the woods of a foreign kingdom, I was home.

“I love you, Rhys. More than anything.”

I had my mate, and that was all I needed.

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[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #494

Top Ten Supporting Characters in the MCU

One thing I’ve been doing this year, on and off, is re-watching the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe. There are a few films on here I’ve seen a whole bunch – The First Avenger, Guardians of the Galaxy, Iron Man 3 – and a whole lot more I’ve only seen the once (including The Incredible Hulk, which I saw at a press screening before it was officially released, and then never again since!). But one thing I’ve noticed as I’ve been going through the films – one of the things that makes the MCU such a success, in fact – is the high quality of supporting turns.

Whether it’s a hero’s best friend, a fine piece of comic relief, or just some bugger that winds people up (or often a combination of all three!) supporting characters are the backbone of the MCU. Not only do we get some really great performances, but these are characters who enrich our heroes and really contribute to the overall success of the films.

In compiling this list I’ve done my usual thing of making up arbitrary rules. Generally speaking, I’ve eschewed romantic interests or villains, even if technically I guess you’d say those are both supporting; this is because I think if a character has a really good love interest – Pepper Potts, say, or M.J. – then they start to function almost as a co-lead, in a way, a strong part of what makes the films special and an important part of the MCU in general. And villains, well, the MCU has long had a problem with villains, and whilst the last few years have started to correct this (I’m looking at you, Thanos) I still think a villain should anchor a film as much as its hero. Regardless, I just think love interests and bad guys don’t class as a supporting character. Then we have a couple of people in the MCU who I guess are technically supporting, but whose roles feel so large that it would be weird including them in this list; the likes of Nick Fury or Peggy Carter (who’s also a love interest, but then also the star of her own TV series, which may or may not be in continuity any more). I’ve also, basically, discounted almost anyone who could be an Avenger; I mean, not exactly, as you’ll see, but even without sharing the title in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, I’d never have put Bucky or Sam in this list, because although they’re definitely supporting roles in the Captain America films, they’re definitely heroes, right? Like Fury, they’re too big to be second bananas. Even, er, if they were second bananas. Can you have two second bananas? Wouldn’t it be second and third bananas? I’ve said banana too much now.

Anyway, that’s enough waffling, let’s just get to the list. Oh, and just so you know – this was hard. Really, really hard.

Korg (Taika Waititi, Thor: Ragnarok, 2017): he’s a big pile of rocks with a heart the size of a planet. He’s a bit dopey, very easily led, but he can still kick a lot of arse. He’s also consistently hilarious and I love him to bits. He is not – not – a dickhead. And “piss off, ghost” is probably the best gag in the MCU.

Talos (Ben Mendelsohn, Captain Marvel, 2019): he starts out as the type of sneery middle-management baddie Mendelsohn excels at, but really he’s a freedom fighter just trying to get home to his wife and daughter. There’s a lot of heart and warmth there, but also he’s really bloody funny. And I think it’s the juxtaposition of the Mendelsohn-villain and the soft-voiced comedy nice guy that wins me over.

Darcy Lewis (Kat Dennings, Thor, 2011): a supremely snarky counterpoint to the sci-fi seriousness of Jane Foster and the otherworldly weirdness of Thor himself, Darcy offers a refreshingly deadpan take on MCU shenanigans. Giving her more depth and agency in WandaVision was a great call, as was teaming her up with Agent Jimmy Woo, who is fantastic and not quite on this list, so let’s say he’s honorary joint third with Darcy, okay?

Luis (Michael Peña, Ant-Man, 2015): okay, they’re all comedy turns so far… but outside of Korg, Luis is the funniest. Like Korg, he’s just a nice guy, so charming and smiley and wanting to help, but what really earns him his place here is his rapid-fire stream-of-consciousness way of telling stories.

Okoye (Danai Gurira, Black Panther, 2018): almost feel like Okoye is skirting the edges of leading-lady-superhero here, but at the moment I’m happy calling her “support”. She’s a supreme badass who kicks a lot of butt, true; but she’s also got a nice line in truth-to-power snarky humour.

Ned Leeds (Jacob Batalon, Spider-Man: Homecoming, 2017): Korg and Luis might be funnier, but no one is a more dependable friend in the MCU than Ned. Spider-Man’s confidante, he’s always there for our hero, offering all kinds of aid as well as being a shoulder to cry on as Peter inevitably goes through the wringer. Also has a sweet Lego Death Star.

Happy Hogan (Jon Favreau, Iron Man, 2008): talking about “best friends”, Happy is a delight, a stressed-out bodyguard-slash-bodyman who just wants to look after his boss. There’s a lot of pathos wrapped up in Happy, a man eager to please and prove himself, but who is more than capable in multiple situations. And he’ll get you all the cheeseburgers you want.

Wong (Benedict Wong, Doctor Strange, 2016): super-strict librarian and guardian of the Sanctum, Wong is all business, except when he’s not. An absolute badass wizard (sorry, sorcerer), he’s capable of recruiting everyone in the galaxy in your hour of need, even if he’s less capable of paying for his own tuna roll.

Dr. Abraham Erskine (Stanley Tucci, Captain America: The First Avenger, 2011): against a backdrop of totalitarian power and grim military force, Erskine stands alone. A man who told Hitler to do one, and then managed to find the right man at the right time despite the protestations of almost everybody in the US army. A touching, charming, delight of a character who – like the skinny kid he picks to be Captain America – is a good man.

Maria Hill (Cobie Smulders, The Avengers, 2012): a tough-as-nails agent who’s ready to get her hands dirty in defence of the nation, but who is also unwaveringly loyal (at least if you’re name’s Nicholas J. Fury, at any rate). Absolutely someone you’d want on your side in a crisis and – if Infinity War is anything to go by – has a decent taste in knitwear, too.

Like I said before, this one was a nightmare. As well as poor old Jimmy Woo, I had to leave Kraglin on the cutting room floor, and I just know he’ll take that personally. And Friday! Good old Friday. I hope we haven’t seen the last of her. Well, heard the last of her. You know what I mean.

[emeraldragonfly]

The Cycle of the Seasons in the Desert

The pagan Sabbats follow the cycle of the seasons, and often, this cycle is easy to visualize. In terms of temperature, of course, we generally have:

Winter/Cold --> Spring/Warm --> Summer/Hot --> Fall/Cool

We go from cold to warm to hot to cool and repeat. In terms of how the plants and animals respond to the seasons, we tend to think of it like this:

Winter/Death/Hibernate --> Spring/Mate/Birth/Growth -->

Summer/Birth/Mature/Growth --> Autumn/Fade/Hoard Food

We say the seasons follow the cycle of birth, growth, death, and rebirth. 

That’s all pretty straightforward. The problem is . . . those concepts don’t apply equally well to all climates on earth.

Now that I’m in the southwest US desert, some of the pagan holidays seem a bit, well, out of step with what’s going on outside. It’s taken me some time to ponder these differences. I’m going to summarize some major ones now.

The Desert Simply Isn’t Well Suited to Farming

A lot of the cycle of life metaphors used are ones about farming. You ‘sow’ new ideas and projects in the spring, nurture them over the summer, ‘reap’ the fruits of your efforts in the fall, and rest in the winter and plan the new year. Also, the pagan holidays often feature feasts that involve crop foods that are in season for those times of the year. 

Here’s the thing though-- I’m in the middle of Utah. This is not a great place to grow crops. It never has been. Do we grow some crops here? Sure, of course. Mostly hay for cattle, in fact. Also certain grains like corn and barley. But really, most of Utah’s agriculture comes from cattle, who can free-graze on the local, desert-tolerant brush. The fact is, the soil and climate are not suited for most typical crops. And growing them requires expending a lot of extra resources.

There’s a reason why the Native Americans who were here long before white people didn’t farm extensively. They mostly relied on hunting and gathering, with some supplemental farming near rivers (which allowed for irrigating crops). So, the idea of huge harvests of typical crops, full of lush fruits and vegetables, and feasts organized around them, isn’t very meaningful here.

A Yearly ‘Death’ or Winter Hibernation Is Not Universal

Many, many animals do indeed hibernate or otherwise enter some sort of state of decreased acitvity during the winter. They do this to conserve energy when resources are scarce. In plants, this can be seen very dramatically when plants die off entirely and go to seed, or when deciduous trees shed their leaves and remain as dormant, bare-limbed creatures for a time. 

The thing is, while a winter hibernation is very common in a lot of plants and animals . . . there’s also a lot who don’t follow that rule. 

Plenty of animals remain active year-round. They may simply shift the emphasis in their diets during winter. For example, the cute little white-tailed antelope squirrels eat a lot of vegetation in spring and summer while it’s growing, but in fall and winter they focus more on fruits and seeds. Cottontails and jackrabbits eat fresh vegetation in spring and summer but focus on woody plants and dry vegetation in fall and winter. 

Other animals may travel back and forth between spring and winter feeding-grounds within their home range. Mule deer feed at higher elevations during the spring growing season and then switch to lower elevations during winter (where there’s much less snow). 

Other animals might migrate greater distances to warmer, wetter places during winter. Birds are especially known for having a lot of species that migrate, and a lot of our ducks are only seasonal residents here.

Whatever method used, for many animals winter is not a time of rest at all, but of steady activity.

This holds true for plants, as well. Many plants are “evergreen.” In the desert, many of the shrubs, cacti, succulents and trees are evergreen. They do not undergo that dramatic death or dormancy, and instead just steadily go about doing their planty business. Many of the typical “signals” to people that winter is coming-- the leaves are falling, animals are vanishing or going to sleep-- just aren’t here. Many of us are just carrying on as usual.

Summer is a More Complex Season Here

The typical view of summer is that it’s a celebration of the power of the sun, of the vitality and abundance of life, a time of handfasting, and of enjoying early harvests. 

It has a different flavor in the desert, though. While summer is certainly a time of growth and power, it’s also other things, too. Summers here are intense. Absolutely scorching, in fact. Temps climbing into the triple F digits is pretty normal-- expect something in the 90s or 100s. It’s genuinely a life-threatening risk for hyperthermia and dehydration for people who don’t take appropriate precautions. Summer needs to be taken seriously. Outdoor activities are . . . pretty hard to enjoy in these conditions. Especially when the windstorms kick in, blasting scorching hot winds and sharp sands and red dirt into your face. Even when the sun sets it can take a long time for the place to cool down. If you want to go for a comfortable walk outside during summer, you pretty much can only aim for a very short window of opportunity in the very early morning-- but better be quick, because it won’t last long.

This isn’t difficult just for people. Animals face the same challenges. How do they deal with it? By being very selective about when they are active during summer. Almost every single animal in the desert avoids midday entirely, staying hidden the shade of shrubs or in underground dens, where things are cooler. (I think the only animal here that braves the raw sun are the ants-- remarkable little creatures.) Animals will be active either in early morning and evening or are completely nocturnal. Many, many desert creatures come out at night, when the world is at a much more tolerable level.

In fact, the summer heat and dryness can be so intense that some animals will even enter into a special type of summer hibernation. This is called estivation. They bury themselves underground and await cooler temperatures and rainfall.

In any case, the point is that summer is a time of rest and sheltering for desert inhabitants. This is normally only associated with winter, but our summer extremes are often a reason to conserve energy and shelter from the sun as well. 

The funny thing is, summer is not just a time of rest and shelter. It’s also a time of growth and activity. Animal breeding is often in full swing during the summer, as well as plant growth and plant reproduction. Why is that?

Our summer has two faces because while it’s our most extreme time of year in terms of heat and dryness, it’s also the growing and monsoon season. Deserts, as you know, get very little precipitation. That’s what defines a desert. A lot of our water comes from melted snow that gathers in the mountains over the winter, which then runs into rivers. But the rest comes from what little rain we do get. Most of our rain occurs in spring, paving the way for a busy summer: Plants grow in the spring, ensuring there’s food available in summer, and thus, it’s a good time for animals to breed. Additionally, there are the summer rains.

The summer rains or “monsoons” (really just thunderstorms) come suddenly and with little warning. They then will dump incredible amounts of water onto the ground. The soils here are very poor at absorbing the water, so we get what we call “flash floods.” There’s this sudden overabundance of water in a place that’s normally starved for it. Animals and plants RUSH to take advantage while they can. Plants suck up as much as possible (cacti and succulents are designed to be huge sponges for these events), as do animals. Frogs and other amphibians, as well as arthropods like dragonflies, quickly breed in temporary puddles while they have the chance. It’s a great frenzy of activity. They don’t have much time because not long after the flood, things will dry up again.

So, in conclusion, our summer has two extreme sides: lots of rest and sheltering from the raw power of the sun, and a rush of activity, fertility and relative abundance. 

Ok. So I’ve rambled on about all these differences in the desert. But what’s the take-away from all this? How can we incorporate it into our pagan or Wiccan practice? 

I have a few ideas.

Reduce Farming and Feasting Metaphors: Replace With Foraging

We aren’t usually wandering along plentiful apple orchards here, or fields of potatoes, or filling our larders with cheeses, or slaughtering loads of lambs, or any of that. The traditional Celtic foods and feasts don’t really fit in here-- nor does the lifestyle. Does that mean you can’t be a pagan in the desert?

No, I don’t think that’s what it means. I think it just means maybe adjusting things a little. Maybe lean less on these farming metaphors for sowing and reaping, and less on those traditional foods. 

They can be replaced with the kind of story that this desert tells us. This is a different story, a lot less about the hard labor of planting large quantities of crops, all the anticipatory waiting for it to grow, the praying for good rains and sun to nurture the crops. A lot of the story of living in the desert comes from foraging. Foraging in an arid desert is not an easy affair. Survival itself in the desert is often not an easy affair. Life is more scarce in the desert because resources are more scarce here. Things are more spread out and scant. You must forage and eat what you can find, often traveling and working quite a bit to gather up enough food. 

Native Americans found things such as roots (wapato, wild onions, sego lily bulbs), seeds (bulrush, goosefoot, pine nuts, sunflower), grains, and other plant parts (wild rice, ricegrass, pickleweed, thistles, cactus flower buds, cactus fruits). There also were berries (raspberries, chokecherries, strawberries) and insects-- a very healthy source of protein (grasshoppers, crickets, ants). Of course, there was also small game (rabbits, mice, squirrels, waterfowl) and occasionally larger game. 

This may not sound very glamorous to you, or very tasty. But it is very resourceful, and sometimes the focus was more on survival than on being gourmet. 

What I propose is that desert pagans think about foraging metaphors and not just farming ones. The steady work of gathering up lots of little bits here and there-- that’s a useful metaphor too, in my mind. Sometimes projects aren’t just about sowing, nurturing and reaping. Sometimes projects are about the steady daily work of foraging, making progress bit by bit. Making use of what you can find, crafting useful things out of them, and ultimately accomplishing something surprisingly huge at the end. Remember, Native Americans even in this harsh desert built incredible, massive apartment-like structures into the cliffs. The “slow and steady” work of foraging (or of erosion!) is a useful metaphor too.

As to celebratory foods . . . why not draw inspiration from Native Americans or early white settler’s ideas on cuisine? Here’s a link to a great article about some Native American recipes (from, you know, an actual Native American). Of course I am not suggesting you treat these things like you “own” them. These inspirations may not come from your personal direct ancestors. But it’s still valid to respectfully borrow cuisine ideas from others! These are foods that grow naturally here or are more easily farmed here, so it makes sense to celebrate with foods that connect you to the land here.

Consider Alternative Seasonal Cycle Ideas

I have been trying for months now to develop an alternative to the traditional season cycle. The traditional one is something like this:

Winter (Death/Rest) ---> Spring (Birth/Growth) ---> Summer (Birth/Growth) ---> Fall (Mature/Wane)

What if we consider our ideas on how many plants and animals here are “evergreens,” and the fact that summer here is a little bit different? Maybe it would look more like this:

Winter (Rest/Forage) ---> Spring (Birth/Growth) ---> Summer (Birth/Growth/Rest) ---> Fall (Mature/Forage)

This suggestion gives two seasons of rest, during the most extreme times of year; winter and summer. It gives two seasons of growth and fertility, during the “light seasons” of spring and summer. And it gives two seasons of “foraging” during the “dark seasons” of fall and winter.

I’m using the word “foraging” as a moderate word that can fit in-between the life energy extremes of “death/rest” and “growth/reproduce.” For animals, foraging is the calm, steady work of searching for and gathering food. It’s a time when you are not hibernating but you also are not putting out the explosion of energy that comes with new growth and reproduction. For evergreen plants, “foraging” is the steady work of photsynthesis that continues even in dark seasons. You’re not doing much new growth or blooming flowers/etc., but you’re not in total dormancy either.

Ultimately these suggested changes are not huge. But I think they’re tweaks that help us connect more! We can see winter as a time of rest for some, enjoying the old traditional metaphors of winter. But we can also see winter as a time of steady progress for the ‘evergreen’ among us. For summer, we can see it as a time of much growth and vitality, but we can also acknowledge that resting and recovering in between moments of intense energy is a good thing and a part of the desert’s cycle.

[zaph1337]

Monster Hunter Rating 13: Vespoid

There are a few things I dislike about the Spring season, but at the top of list? The ants and wasps come back. Freaking ants keep getting in my freaking house crawling in my freaking kitchen because they want my freaking food! But it could be worse; they could all be wasps. I despise having to live with those things around, even if I’ve only ever been stung once as a little kid (yellowjackets are on my sh*t list forever for that, by the way). But it could be worse; they could all be Vespoids.

(How it appears in Monster Hunter 1)

(How it appears in Monster Hunter Generations)

Appearance: Y’know, I really wish I could make out these guys’ faces better, but I can’t exactly do anything about that, so let’s go over the rest of them. Vespoids look like your average purple wasps that just happen to be four feet tall. Well, okay, not really. Real wasps don’t have three pairs of wings or barbed stingers (at least it looks like there’s a barb at the stinger’s base), nor do their stingers protrude that far out of their bodies at all times (and before anyone brings up ichneumon wasps, those are ovipositors that are used to bore into wood to lay eggs on/in things like grubs; they can’t be used like stingers). Other than the wings, color, and maybe the face, Vespoids look basically like you’d expect a giant wasp to look, but they’re just alien enough that they don’t really give me the same anxieties as looking at a wasp up-close would. 5/10.

Behavior: Like a lot of other wasps, Vespoids live in colonies with a Queen. Where are these colonies? Practically everywhere! Forests, jungles, swamps, deserts, volcanoes--for God’s sake, these things can even live in snowy areas no sweat, so you’re probably never safe from these things outside of a village! Apart from the Queen, Vespoids come in two varieties: the smaller, more fragile workers and the larger, more aggressive soldiers. The workers have the jobs you’d expect: tidying up the hive, taking care of the Queen and eggs, and gathering food. The soldiers, on the other hand, have one purpose: protect the Queen with their lives. Now, you would think that the wiki would have more data on these two varieties, but it doesn’t. I’ve even looked at the Vespoid Queen page to see if there was any mention of the Vespoids involved in her fight being different from the ones you normally encounter, but no dice. I guess there’s a reason this image is on every monster’s ecology page:

The Vespoids you see most often are the workers searching for food. As you’d expect from wasps, “food” basically means anything they can kill. If the prey is small, they’ll paralyze it with a sting or two and carry it back to the colony. If the prey is a biggun, multiple workers will sting it before cutting it into pieces that can be transported back to the colony. Ew. The workers are well-equipped to traveling great distances in search of food thanks to their lightweight bodies, which aren’t weighed down by their durable exoskeletons...I say “durable” because the wiki says “durable,” but these guys have the Hornetaur problem of “hit me and I shatter.” I’d cut them some slack by pointing out that the attacks they’re hit with are coming from powerful weapons which might not even kill them in one hit, or from even more powerful monsters, but those things are the norm for the wildlife of this world, so no slack will be cut for them. See previous comment about above image. Anyways, Vespoids can be so successful that their colonies can become too large to support, so when that happens, they’ll split the colony up into smaller colonies that are still relatively close to the main one, but are dispersed over a wider area. I don’t know if this is behavior seen in eusocial animals irl, but it’s pretty interesting. The Vespoids are basically a mix between ants and wasps in behavior, from what I can tell, which is...decent, I guess. They still kinda feel like the bare minimum you need to do to make a eusocial animal. The thought of a small procession of giant wasps carrying chunks of meat through the air is pretty morbid, though, and sometimes, that’s what counts. 6/10.

Abilities: What do you think these guys use to fight? Those stingers aren’t for show; they’re packing a payload of neurotoxin used to paralyze prey. Even though their attacks are more of a nuisance for hunters who are already in a battle than a substantial threat (which tells you just how much more powerful the humans of the MH world are than us), need I remind you that these things travel together? If they weren’t so easy to kill, they’d probably be as bad as some of the larger monsters you have to fight. But that’s all these guys have for an attack, which is basically what real wasps do (except, you know, it’s coming from a wasp that’s 4 feet long). 4/10.

Equipment: Unfortunately, all Vespoid weapons are recolors of Hornetaur weapons. This is likely because they were the first insectoid monsters in the series and many of their weapons use parts from both of them. For example, the Duals Blades known as the Insect Slicer are made by upgrading the Insector+ (which looks exactly like the Insector and the Insect Slicer) with both Hornetaur and Vespoid parts:

You can tell that these are more Hornetaur-themed based off the colors. But you can upgrade the Insect Slicer into the Alated Insect, which has a color scheme closer to Vespoids:

Though, honestly, Vespoids aren’t as shiny as Hornetaurs are, so this still doesn’t exactly look right. Another weapon that uses both Hornetaur and Vespoid parts is a Hunting Horn called the Sonic Glass:

Again, more Hornetaur than Vespoid. I didn’t show this off when I covered Hornetaurs because I wanted to stick to weapons which didn’t require parts from multiple specific monsters because I thought it would be harder to say which monster the weapon was based off of, but now that I think about it, that’s stupid. You can tell by looking at this that it’s themed after the Hornetaur. But the version of the Sonic Glass that appears in Monster Hunter World, the Sonic Horn, has a color scheme that’s much more like the Vespoid’s:

...look, it’s ugly, but I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been told Monster Hunter World has the worst weapon designs in the series. And before anyone asks why I’m not showing off the Glass Royale, that’s clearly based off the Vespoid Queen, not the regular ones. All right, now it’s time for the armor to just be the Hornetaur armor recolored.

Oh. They’re actually different. Didn’t expect that. Well, they’re very...pointy. Seriously, there are spikes all over these things. And the female set’s helmet looks like a bug’s head, and knowing Monster Hunter, it’s probably real. Ew. I definitely like the Hornetaur Armor better than this, ‘cause it’s just...kinda dull and ugly. The colors don’t do a lot for it. I hate how every Vespoid weapon is either a recolor or closer to the Hornetaur in terms of theme, and the armor, while unique, is unappealing. At least the raptors had some unique weapons, even though they had basically the same armor. The Hornetaur weapons offer a lot in terms of design, but I feel like I have to give this a low score on principle. 4/10.

Final Thoughts and Tally: Look, when I said that this was “definitely gonna be more interesting” than the Velociprey, that was because I didn’t know how plain and unoriginal the Vespoids were. I just saw “giant bug” and thought it would be cool. Don’t blame me for that! Well, good news is, the next monster has to be more interesting than the Vespoid, for reasons that you’ll see when I get to it...or if you wanna go to the Monster List on the wiki yourself, but that’s called “spoiling.” 4/10.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #353

“well i’m a creep  /  i’m a weirdo  /  what the hell am i doing here?  /  i don’t belong here”

If you won an all-expenses paid trip to anywhere in the world for a one week vacation, where would you choose to go? For just one week, um... maybe South Africa, actually. Two weeks would probably be more ideal, but I've learned via my friend who worked with the KMP for a year that it's very isolating and you're very disconnected from society (also from the Internet, haha), but regardless, I REALLY wanna see the meerkats. Especially with the heat and all, one week might actually be all right. How often do you get notifications on your favorite social media site? That would be Facebook, and it really depends on how much I share that day. Sometimes I barely touch it, and sometimes I share a billion things and get a few notifications of people reacting. What’s something you’re actively trying to forget/care less about, if anything? Hi, have I told you about my breakup? What was the last encounter you had with a bug? Ugh, the fucking house is having an ant problem. Apparently, it's happened before here this time of year, so a couple times a days I find one on my arm or something and crush it. What is something considered “childish” that you still like or enjoy doing? I'm certain some people would consider RP childish, given it's essentially "make believe," and that's one reason I don't tell people about it. Name a song that you have a strong emotional connection to. Why is that song so important to you? The #1 song would be "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin. I've told why before and don't feel like doing it again. Is cannabis legal where you live? Nope, but it should be. How often do you walk your dog, if you have one? I don't have a dog. What is something you'd feel confident enough to give a presentation on? Me? Comfortable giving a presentation? Bitch please. Which CoVid vaccine did you receive, if any? I got Moderna. I wanted Pfizer, but supposedly they're the same thing, just different manufacterors. How do you feel you've made a difference in the world? I don't feel I have. But it's my goal in life to die feeling like I did. Do you eat any candies in a specific order? (ie: M&M's) I fucking read this as "candles" and was really confused. But anyway, yes, but not M&Ms; I only do that with candies that actually have unique tastes depending on color, like Skittles. What is one common childhood illness that you managed not to catch? I never got chickenpox. Is there an heirloom that has been passed down generations of your family? Probably, but I don't know about it. What is the most unique pet that you ever owned, or would like to? Hm. I'd say maybe a Chinese water dragon? People tend to not know what they are; they mistake them for iguanas all the time. Have you ever been in a bad car accident before? A bad one, no, but I've been in one, nevertheless. At the description of what happened though, the cop said we were extremely lucky we weren't flipped over. My mom's driving skill saved us. What is your favorite type of weather to experience? Snow! I like a steady pace of large flakes. Do you know your social security by heart? I don't, actually, but I did at one point. Now, I only know the last four digits. Would you move out your house if you could right now? Yes, even if we just moved here. Mom and I really, really don't like living in the suburbs. We miss being in the middle of nowhere. When is the last time you slept in someone else’s bed? Not since I last visited Sara's. Do you like being called baby? Not really. Like if it's from an s/o, it's all right, it's just really not my favorite. Have you ever slept in the same bed of the opposite sex? Yeah. When shopping at a grocery store, do you return the cart? I openly judge the fuck out of you if you don't. Do you think you would survive in the wilderness if you were abandoned there? I know I couldn't. Not in my shape. If you had a child at the age you’re at now, do you think you’d be a good parent? God, no. Do you eat your Oreos with milk? Yes. I strongly prefer them that way. Do you think French kissing is gross? I mean in concept I think it indisputably is, like even if you brush your tongue, it's still just... gross. But that doesn't mean I'm against it at all or won't do it when I love somebody. It's an "I accept you and your germs" thing, haha. Are you wearing make-up? What brand(s)? No. I pretty much never wear makeup anymore, even to take pictures. The last male you spoke to…is he attractive? That would be my psychiatrist, and I'm not attracted to him, no. He's like another dad to me. Have you ever had mice in your house? Back when we lived in the woods, we would have a minor mouse problem in the winter sometimes. I fucking hated it because my parents used the inhumane traps, save for one. I guess it was an affordability thing, idk. One or two got caught in that one, and I would let them go outside. Do you enjoy working with animals? It depends on what I'm doing. If I'm cleaning up after an animal, NO, because I seriously struggle with stomaching it. I canNOT touch vomit or feces, so that kinda eliminates a lot of options. Because of how physically weak I am along with hyperhidrosis, I also can't really exert myself much, so there ya go, more reasons I can't. I wish I could. Have you ever been in a tornado or hurricane? Plenty of hurricanes. If you're in a competition, are you in it to win it or just for the fun? The fun, experience, and growth. What's your favorite show on Comedy Central? I don't watch it. Which love story would you want your life to turn out like? I don't know, really. Do you usually go to sleep before or after the people you're living with? Before, at least usually. Are you into ripped jeans? Yes, though I don't wear jeans anymore. Have you ever been to any Disney parks? Yeah, Disney World in Florida. Which band has the best name, in your opinion? "Cradle of Filth" sounds pretty damn badass and unholy, I dig it. Do kids often knock on your door on Halloween? This will be our first year in this house during Halloween, so I really don't know if any will? I mean we live in a suitable neighborhood, so idk. Which one of your exes do you feel like you have the most chemistry with? Sara. Do you share the same political views as your parents? Dad, no. Mom, some. Have you ever done any internship? No. What's the last thing you got paid to do? Take pictures for someone. What's something your mother always says? "Drive like everyone else is stupid." It works though, haha. Always expect that someone you see might do something moronic and be prepared. For example, she is very adamant about us looking both ways when a light changes to green versus going immediately, and it's literally saved Mom's and my sister's lives. What's something your dad always says? To reach out to him if we ever need help with anything, and he'll do everything in his power to be there. What's your favorite thing to wear? Loose tank tops with loose-ish pj pants. What's your favorite day of the week? Nowadays, it's Fridays. Snake Discovery and The Dark Den both upload that day, haha. Do you have a favorite coloring book artist? Lisa Frank is the Wholesome Lead Bitch. Have you ever wanted to model? No. Have you ever seen someone have a seizure? Yeah, my sister. What's your favorite car? I am not NEARLY educated enough on cars to answer this. Why did you cry the last time you did? I'm seriously grieving Virginia. Her death has stricken me harder than any other I've experienced, even my own grandmother's. Who was the last person to piss you off? Probably someone on Facebook, but idr. Do you like winter? I love winter. Do you have a favorite flower? Yeah; I really like orchids. Dahlias are also gorgeous, and roses... Would you get a shamrock tattooed to your forehead for $5000? No. As great as that money sounds, tattoos are (relatively) permanent, and that would look pretty stupid imo. Are you very flexible? Not anymore. Who was the last person to tell you you looked nice? Probably Mom. Do you have the right time set on your microwave? Yeah. Do you have any old newspaper articles? Why? No. Do you have a flat screen tv or just a regular box? Flat screen. Do you like Tootsie Rolls? Ugh, no. Do you like Slim Jim’s? Oh fuuuuuuck yeah man. What color is your mousepad? Black. Do you get your eyebrows waxed? I used to, but now I just leave 'em be. Would you date someone that had a different religion from you? It would depend on the religion and the intensity. I could NOT date someone exceptionally religious. A common question: What are you listening to? Caleb Hyles and Halocene's cover of Radiohead's "Creep." Would you ever get a nature tattoo? Well, I want at least a meerkat tattoo, so. I'll probably get a snake somewhere, too. Where do your siblings work, if anywhere? My older sister is a mammographer, and my little sister is a children's social worker. Saving lives, then there's me lmao. Who do you generally talk to the most? Mom and Sara. Have you ever had a crush on someone of the same gender? Yeah, multiple times. Do you enjoy painting? Not really, no. I stress out about messing up. When, where, and why did a needle last pierce your skin? Around a week ago, left shoulder, to get my first Covid vaccine. Is there a person you talk to everyday with? Well, considering I live with my mother... I usually talk to Sara too, but a day sometimes passes where we don't. Does one of your parents ever complain to you about the other parent? Mom does that all the time about Dad. It's no shocker they're divorced. Dad's long since moved on and doesn't talk shit about her. Who was the last person you wished a “Happy Birthday” to? I actually don't remember... Someone on Facebook, I'm sure. Does your best friend have a job? Not right now, she's dealing with some wild health issues where it's much safer that she doesn't. When you move out your house (or if you already have moved out) do you plan on still visiting your parents' house? Well of course. I especially plan on visiting my mother at least once a week, either going to her place for dinner or her coming over to mine for the same. We're way too close for me to not see her. I'll still visit Dad, too. Do you usually take home leftovers if you eat out in a restaurant? It depends on what I had and if I know I'll eat it warmed up. What’s your favorite thing to have for breakfast? Cinnamon rolls. Why did you break your last promise? I barely EVER break promises, but this one I actually forgot I even made. ;_;

[ampmiscfiles]

The Webs We Weave: Chapter 29

Start From The Beginning

Luke groaned as he opened his eyes. Looking around, he found Danny and Jessica laid out on the ground beside him. The room they were in was plain and vacant. It clearly wasn’t meant to house anyone.

“I feel like shit.” Jessica groaned, sitting up and holding her head. “Worse than any hangover I’ve ever had.”

“That’s impressive.” Danny mumbled into the floor.

“Shut up you ass.” she huffed, shoving him.

“As fun as it is to hear you two bicker, we got bigger problems.” Luke grunted, pushing himself up off the floor and walking to the door.

“Seems like a poor attempt to keep us hostage if they put us in here.” Danny frowned.

“All the better for us.” Luke said, pulling back his fist and slamming it into the door and flying back into the wall.

“Holy shit!” Jessica screamed, rushing to Luke’s side had his entire arm looked burnt. “What the hell was that?”

“Not as poor an attempt as I thought.” Danny winced as he looked over Luke’s arm.

“It’s a-”

“High powered electric field.” Norman’s voice cut off Luke’s reply. “It would be very foolish to keep three powerful individuals like you in such a simple room. Don’t worry though, you won’t be here long. I just have some things to take care of first.”

“You better hope your little field holds up Osborn.” Luke growled. “Cause it won’t be pretty if I get my hands on you.”

“You’ll find I’m not very concerned with what actually happens to any of you.“

They could hear the dismissal in his voice.

"I’m more concerned with the idiot ‘billionaire, playboy, philanthropist’ and the special little spider I’ve managed to catch. Enjoy your stay.”

The sound of the speaker crackled out as Jessica erupted into curses.

Danny felt around his ear, taking note for the first time that his communicator was missing. Unless Jessica or Luke had theirs, there was no way to reach Frank.

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

Felicia wiped her eyes as she continued down the tunnel. They had no idea where Peter and Tony had gone. They had no idea if continuing down the tunnels would even help them at all. No one knew where they all went anyway! What if they never found them? What if Norman already had them? What if whoever Norman was working for had his own plans for Peter? It wouldn’t be the first time someone would think they could experiment on him.

She wiped her eyes again.

She wanted her Peter.

If-no-when they got him back, he was going to be on house arrest until she deemed him safe enough to return to the outside.

It shouldn’t be to hard to keep him indoors. He’d have unpacking to do in his and Wade’s new apartment after all.

She sniffled.

“Hey,” Bucky said, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her into a hug. “We’re going to find him. I won’t just leave one of my idiot brothers behind.”

“One of your brothers?” Felicia asked, her face buried in his chest.

“Yeah.” Bucky chuckled. “Steve is idiot brother number one, Peter is idiot brother number two.”

Felicia giggled as she clutched his shirt tighter, enjoying the warmth of his arms around her.

“Usually Peter would have something snarky to say at this point.” she smiled.

“All the more reason to keep going. We’ve got to find him and take care of this Norman guy. We’ve all got lives to get back to that don’t involve a lunatic with a Halloween fetish.”

“Yeah. I’ve got to tell him how you held my dainty figure in your strong, masculine arms while I cried for him.” she snickered as Bucky choked.

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

Wade Wilson knew fury. He knew the dark desire revenge could be. He had given into that desire often enough to consider himself an expert.

Having Peter taken from him brought that dark desire front and center. He itched to pull the triggers of his guns, or swing the sharp blades of his katanas through someone’s flesh.

His thoughts were dark, and bloody. His ideas involved trails of blood and dismembered body parts. No, Peter wouldn’t like it, but he didn’t have to know either. Wade would never enact such things in front of his baby boy.

Still, if Wade was seething, murderous vengeance, he wasn’t sure what to describe the thing next to him as.

At this point, Wade had seen Matthew Murdock in various stages of emotions, but this was an entirely different beast.

For the first time ever, Wade realized the ‘Devil’ in Matt’s vigilante title might mean more than he thought.

A darkness seemed to roll off his shoulders. He was to silent to be natural.

Even the brat had noticed.

While he hadn’t been really interested in talking to either of them after the big reveal of Spider-Man’s identity, the kid was even quieter now.

“So, I can’t believe I’m the one asking this, but what’s our plan?” Wade said, breaking the tense silence.

Matt stopped completely, his face turned straight ahead.

“You two will get Peter and Stark. I will handle whoever’s there.”

“You wait a sec-”

Wade grunted as he was slammed into the wall, Matt’s arm buried in his throat.

“You listen to me Wilson, I won’t repeat myself. You two will get Peter and Stark and get them to safety. We have no idea what kind of shape we’re going to find them in. Considering our situation, I seriously doubt either of them would be any use to us. I need to know Peter is safe. I trust you to follow directions and get him out.

"Bu-” Wade choked as Matt pressed harder.

“My son was taken from me. You may be dating him Wilson, but he was my kid first. I made a promise to his aunt to get him out. I can die, Wade, you can’t. If anyone can make sure Peter gets out, it’s you. That’s always going to be your role. Peter is always going to be your job to protect. If you decide to ignore me and fight whoever we find, you better hope I die there. If I don’t, I’ll make it a personal goal to find a way to make sure you do. I’ll do what I have to, regardless of what it means for me.”

Matt growled as he released Wade and shoved him to the side before turning to Harley.

“The same thing goes for you. Get Stark out.”

“And if they’re fine?” Wade coughed, standing up fully. “You know Pete isn’t just gonna stand aside.”

“Then you better make sure he’s not alone.”

Even after being surrounded by Avengers, looking at Daredevil, Harley felt he could finally see what being a real hero really meant.

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

Tony winced as his eyes cracked open to bright lights. His head throbbed and he felt sore. Peeling his eyes open slowly, he took note of his state. He was in a propped up position, but strapped to a metal table. Across from him, in the same situation, was a still unconscious Peter.

“Peter? Peter! Wake up kid!”

“He’s not going to hear you, Stark. I was very careful about how much sedative I gave him over you. I wanted us to have a few moments together.”

Tony growled as Norman stepped up beside him.

“I have to say, while I was hoping to catch two birds with one stone, you weren’t the other bird. Still, I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Who was crazy enough to let you out?” Tony glared.

“There was a time I would have risen to that bait, but I believe that out of the two of us, I’m not the one who has anything to worry about.” Norman smirked, moving over to Peter.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” Norman asked, running a finger down Peter’s cheek. “A marvel for sure.”

“Don’t touch him!”

“Has he ever really discussed himself with you?” Norman asked, moving away from Peter, ignoring Tony.

“He’s done research on himself, you know. Extensive research. He’s accessed my servers to an extent Harry doesn’t even know about.”

Tony frowned, wondering where this was going.

“You know, the spider’s venom he received was never meant for human experimentation…..at least not when he was bitten. My people had run multiple tests on them and had been recording the changes in their poison. It was a secret project, so there were no time constraints.

One of the very few projects I gave free reign to.

I needed it to be perfect before anyone could know about it….and they were making progress all the time.” Norman looked over at a large monitor detailing information on the spiders.

“What was the project supposed to be?” Tony asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Once properly developed, they would be harvested to create a new breed of super soldiers…ones that would put Steve Rogers to shame. It isn’t a coincidence that Peter’s abilities are greater than Captain America’s. That was always the point.

"You just said it was never meant for human experimentation!”

“I said the spider that bit Peter wasn’t meant for human experimentation. None of the spiders in that batch were even remotely ready to be harvested. Truthfully, the fact he’s even alive is incredible. The venom literally altered his DNA.” Norman paused, looking from the screens to Peter.

“He’s far to precious to be out unsupervised. You had no idea what you had with him.” Norman said, glaring at Tony. “He nearly died the time he saved your ass by protecting your precious Stark property!”

“How about when you attacked him!”

Norman laughed as Tony fumed, guilt over the entire event of Peter’s Homecoming night gnawing at him.

“If you ever thought Peter’s life was really in danger, you’re more of an idiot than I took you for. While I didn’t know who was under the mask, I would never have killed them. They were far more valuable alive than dead. That said, he wasn’t going to come in quietly, and his abilities made close combat difficult to achieve. Naturally, I had to up the ante to acquire him. Admittedly, I underestimated the intelligence under the mask. It wasn’t simply brute force that beat me. Peter’s mind works amazingly fast to try and analyze everything around him.”

Tony didn’t respond, he didn’t need to. He was fully aware of the brilliance of Peter’s brain. While he would never flat out say anything to Harley, if Peter had decided to return to him and SI, he would easily put him as the main inheritor to the company.

Harley was smart and could most likely run the business perfectly but , he could be rash and come off a bit abrasive. Peter on the other hand, was extremely intelligent with a calm and friendly personality. Out of the two, people would most likely be more willing to deal with Peter than Harley…..kind of like how people were more willing to deal with Pepper than him.

Still, none of that mattered if they didn’t get out of here.

“Oh yes, you know all about him though, don’t you?” Norman sneered, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

“You know all about his perfect grades from the moment he entered school till he left. You know all about his life before his uncle passed.”

“I know they haven’t had it easy-“

“All you know about him is what any idiot can look up. You know nothing about what the Parker’s have experienced emotionally. Peter and Harry have been friends since they were very young. I’ve watched Peter grow up. I was around when he lost his parents. I went with my wife and son to the funeral. His parents were brilliant scientists.”

Norman chuckled, looking at Peter.

“He definitely took after them.”

Taking a breath, Norman moved to a small table and picked up a glass cube.

“I had hoped spending time with Peter would have been good for Harry. Maybe get him on the right track. Unfortunately, Harry will never amount to anything.”

“He seems to be running Oscorp just fine .” Tony sneered. “Better than you.”

“I’ll give it to him on one thing.” Norman said, walking up to Tony. “He made a smart move hiring Peter for the pharmaceutical department.”

Tony glared as Norman stopped before him. A sly grin spread across the man’s face as he held up the glass cube.

“Anyway, what do you think?”

Tony looked into the cube, taking in the small spider suspended inside. There was nothing special in the way it looked, but he had a pretty good idea of its importance.

“I’m sure you know why I’m showing you this. It’s the very spider that bit Peter.” he twirled the glass.

“It was found on the floor after the field trip had ended. At the time, we all assumed the spider had just died being outside of it’s controlled environment.”

Norman chuckled at himself.

“I’m honestly ashamed of myself for taking so long to put the pieces together on where Spider-Man might have gotten his abilities. Of course, when I did, I tried to offer him a place as a partner. With his abilities, given by me by the way, we could have made a formidable team.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“It wasn’t to surprising.” Norman shrugged. “Spider-Man had chosen the path of the hero long before I got to him. It was just disappointing.”

“When did you figure out it was Peter under the mask?”

“Oh, I have you to thank for that.” Norman laughed.

“Think back, Tony Stark . Think back to the early days of a certain webslinger. Think back to a moment in time where you failed him by not trusting him over your own issues.”

Tony frowned, feeling like he should know where Norman was going, but missing something.

“Does the moniker of ‘Vulture’ ring any bells?”

Tony’s eyes widened.

“Oh yes. He was willing to keep Peter’s secret, until he was offered his freedom. It’s amazing what people will do for the chance to get what they want. For Toomes it was his family, for me, well, he’s right across from you.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re so much better?” Norman asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Have you not been pushing him to rejoin your little hero group? From what I’ve gathered, Spider-Man has never seemed to be interested in joining the Avengers. In fact, I’d say he went out of his way to avoid you.”

Tony’s jaw tightened.

“I guess my return worked more in your favor than you want to admit.” Norman smirked, moving back over to Peter.

“He should be waking up soon, then the real fun will begin.”

“What are you planning?”

“Well, I can’t let him out to wander the streets, now can I? No. So, he’ll have to be kept inside. Luckily, I’ve got some….. volunteers testing out some new features I plan to use in Peter’s room.”

“You’re going to keep him locked up like some prisoner? Yeah, I’m sure that will work out for you.”

“Well, it will only be temporary.” Norman shrugged. “Once he learns his place, he’ll be able to leave his room.”

Tony growled, pulling against his restraints.

“How cute, Stark. Do you really think you’ll be able to break those without your fancy suit?”

“You’re going to regret this Osborn!”

Norman just smirked, looking over at Peter as he started to stir.

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

Frank grunted in annoyance as he checked over his gun for, what felt like, the hundredth time.

He was growing restless, not to mention the increasing feeling something was wrong.

“Hell with this.” he said, standing up.

“This stealth shit ain’t working for me.”

Grabbing his bag, Frank left the rooftop and headed off where he had watched the members of the Defenders go.

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

“We gotta get out of here.” Jessica huffed, stalking around their prison cell.

“Well, until we figure out a way around that field, we arn’t going anywhere.” Danny sighed.

“It would be nice to have the nerd with us.” Luke mumbled.

“That little shit is definitely taking me out drinking once this is all over.” Jessica grit her teeth, kicking the wall to relieve frustration.

Danny watched as she stalked off toward the other side of the room, not bothering to look where her foot had made contact with the wall.

He looked however.

His eyes widened at the small dent and hairline crack in the wall.

Maybe they weren’t as trapped as they thought.

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

Peter groaned as he struggled to regain consciousness. His head hurt slightly, and his eyes felt heavy.

Making to move his hand to rub his eyes, Peter snapped to awareness as he felt the restraints work against him.

“Wha-Tony?” Peter croaked out, throat dry.

“Peter!”

“Isn’t that cute.” Norman sneered. “Tony Stark all concerned for Peter Parker’s well being.”

“I’m not the one that drugged him and strapped him down!”

Peter took the two men arguing as a chance to fully assess his whereabouts and his situation.

He and Tony were both restrained and at the mercy of a psycho.

‘ Great. ’

Peter internally huffed.

He needed to figure out a way out of the restraints, but he could still feel the drugs in his system. He wouldn’t be anywhere near as good in a fight right now as he would be normally.

Still, he had to chance it.

He couldn’t let Tony stay here.

Norman wasn’t after Tony, despite their long time rivalry. That made Tony expendable. Expendable people usually didn’t last in these situations and despite their history, Peter couldn’t let anything happen to the man.

Spider-Man didn’t abandon anyone.

Twisting his wrists, Peter tested the strength of the restraints and various angles and points. Infuriatingly though, they were solid at all points.

“Well now, Peter.” Norman smiled. “Let’s help you get a better look at things.”

Peter watched as Norman moved to the side of the table and pressed a button. The table gave a slight vibration as it tilted forward, putting him into an almost standing position.

“There we go. Now we can all properly see each other.”

Peter held back his glare, refusing to give anything away as to how he was handling things.

“I’m so glad to see you again, Peter.” Norman smiled, an unsettling scenarity in the action. “Our time together was so short last time.”

“You’re the one who left.” Peter replied.

“Well, I had a few things to take care of.” Norman shrugged. “But everything is how it should be now.”

Norman moved directly into Peter’s eyeline, his expression sent Peter’s Spider-Sense screaming.

Norman reached out a hand, grabbing Peter’s chin roughly.

“Now, Peter, how about we finish what we st-”

“Osborn!”

Peter froze.

He knew that voice.

He knew that voice so well.

The missing puzzle piece had finally fallen into place

Norman grinned before dropping his hand and pulling Peter’s mask back over his face.

“Can’t have just anyone knowing your little secret, now can we?” Norman chuckled before  turning to the new arrival.

“I apologize for the lack of a proper delivery but ,” Norman chuckled. “I don’t believe we’ll have to wait much longer. As you can see, we have something he’ll be very anxious to have returned.”

“We better not.” the man threatened, before turning to both Peter and Tony.

Tony looked between the two men. It was obvious they were talking about Peter, but what business did either of them have trying to lure in Deadpool?

That was who they were after, right?

“I must say, Tony Stark was not who I was expecting to see when I came here.” the man chuckled before focusing his full attention on Peter.

“Hello again, Spider-Man.”

Peter looked at the man before him, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“How’s it going, Fisk?”

[apollosvotive]

a fanfic about the cinnamon salt cinnamon characters written for the writeblr fic exchange for @apricotwrites. i chose to write about jay because i felt like i could grasp his character the best, but i dont know a lot about the characters so hopefully there arent too many inaccuracies aaaa. hope this is okay!

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Borneo is white sand shifting underfoot. Fat winged insects sluggishly dragging their heavy bodies from one flower to the next, the audible thrum of their wings. It’s the muggy air, the heat of the glowering sun as it pitches itself at the highest point of its trajectory. It’s the constant need to slap himself on the limbs multiple times to ward away a stray horde of hungry bloodsuckers. But still. Anywhere is better than home.

Jay lounges in the shade of a coconut tree, a hand beneath his head, listening to the sound of waves lapping against the shore. Even with his eyes closed, he can tell the rest are off a little ways down the beach from the loud splashing and occasional squeals of laughter. Sohla’s voice is clear and distinct. She’s shouting at Ruben something along the lines of ‘You have approximately half a brain cell in your head, Ruben, and that’s me being generous.’ Then comes Ruben’s indignant remonstrations and Birdie’s light, high laughter and Jay starts thinking all over again about how chance, how fortuitous, that the universe might allow the paths of these seven people to cross and become what they are now: together. A ragtag team of misfits, a family.

When he first set foot onto this island, it would have been impossible for him to even think about the fact that he might find a group of people who understand him on such a level. Of course, when he first set foot onto this island, he was still angry and alone and blameful, thinking thoughts about his leg or, more accurately, the lack of it. But then he met these guys, and he saw shy and quiet Will, prone to smiling to himself and listening, really listening when someone talks as if to make up for the fact that he cannot see them. Ruben, who, for all the clumsiness of his left foot, manages to banish any impressions of awkwardness with a simple, urbane smile. Or unpredictable Alison, lover of Shakespeare, Shelley, Dickens, names of the dead. She’s always got that strange smile playing on her lips as if she knows something he doesn’t. She keeps her thoughts close to herself, never one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but he has come to know to find glimpses of her in little things, like in the way her eyes are always roving, looking for her brother, never allowing herself to let him out of her sight.

Come to think of it, there’s one voice that he doesn’t hear, floating up to him from where the rest of them are.

“Why so antisocial?”

Warmth lands on his face, flooding the darkness of the back of his eyelids with orange. He cracks an eye open. Alison is in front of him. She has shifted a palm frond away so that it no longer blocks the sun from his face.

“Not my thing,” Jay says simply.

“No?” She folds her arms in front of her. “You’re the only one not down there. How about for once in your life, don’t be a sad ass party pooper?”

“You’re here with me,” he counters.

“Only so that you’re not up here withering by yourself,” she shoots right back, without missing a beat. She isn’t looking at him. Her eyes are directed at a spot on the sand. “Oh, look at me. I’m Jay, I’m so cool, too cool to go down to the water and have fun with the others. Sorry to ruin your daydream, Jay, but from down there, you don’t look like you’re in a 1080p montage shot in a Fincher-esque style with emo music playing in the background. From down there, you look like a sad… ant.”

“Ha-ha,” Jay deadpans. “And that’s all an English lit student can come up with? Now put back my leaf. And go find your brother.”

Alison gasps in mock-affront. “Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?”

“I do,” Jay says very seriously. “I do bite my thumb at you.”

“Unbelievable! Incomprehensible!” she cries. “Hell is empty and all the devils are here!”

Finally, she succeeds in wresting a laugh out of him. She’s obsessed with Shakespeare. She’s memorised hundreds of quotes across all his plays and she enjoys quoting it back at him to annoy the shit out of him, which is, evidently, an effective method in getting him to do things. He shakes his head, unable to stop the upward twitch of his lips, and he pointedly ignores the smug and satisfied look in her eyes.

“Come on, Jay.” She jerks her head in the direction of where the others are. “I won. Let’s go.”

He covers his eyes with his arms stubbornly.

She sighs. “What’s going on? Are you homesick?”

“Homesick?” He scoffs from beneath his arms, as if it's an absurd concept. “No.”

“Woah, okay. Must you say it like the Bubonic plague originated in the tiny town of Laurels, Maine?”

“Laurels, Maine,” he repeats slowly. Just saying the name brings back to mind the feeling of inexorable boredom. Days of endless repetition. Just work and sleep and work. Days of friendlessness and hushed whispering and guilt-filled glances at his leg. The problem with a small town is that everyone knows everyone. This means that everyone in the little town knows that it was an accident that took Jay’s leg away from him when he was twelve and everyone knows he’s never been quite the same since. “More like ‘Bumfuck, Middle of Bumfuck Nowhere’. Wouldn’t go back if you paid me to. I am perfectly happy where I am now, thank you very much. It’s up to the rest of them to not go all Lord of the Flies and start killing each other.”

“Oh, considering that out of the seven of us, the only person to not scream at the sight of spiders is Will and it’s because he’s blind, I wouldn’t put my money on it.”

“I don’t scream.”

“I saw your face when there was that spider in the toilet the other day. Face of a pants-pisser.”

“You’re dysfunctional.”

“Aw,” she says. “Thank you.”

“C’mon, Jay.” She tries again. One more attempt that sounds as though its approaching finality. Sometimes Jay wonders how many times he can push others away before they stop coming to him altogether. He’s spent so long in Laurels angry and alone, convinced that no one else in the world could understand him, that finding this group of people, on the island of Borneo, of all places, feels like a rare stroke of luck he isn’t meant to have, the only thing the universe has done right by him. And the thought of losing them, that he might push them away enough times for them to not bother anymore – it makes him scared.

There. He said it. It does. It makes him scared.

“They’re waiting for you. ”

After a moment’s hesitation, Jay moves his arms away. He squints against the light flooding back into his vision, then his vision settles and his eyes come to rest on the black silhouette blocking out the rest of the light that is Alison.

She extends a hand to him. He takes it and allows himself to be pulled up.

“This better be good,” he tells her. She makes to place a hand on his back to support him but he shakes his head and moves away. All these years with a prosthesis and he’s gotten used to it even over tricky terrain. In fact, it feels no different from his old leg until he looks down.

“Come on, cranky old man,” she says. “Let’s go.”

They walk down the beach to where the rest of them are. Perched contentedly under a large beach umbrella, Will and Nolan sit, listening to music. They share Nolan’s headphones. Each one holds the muff to their ears as they quietly listen to whatever’s filtering in. Depending on who has control of the aux, the song is most probably either a romantic ballad or an orchestral score. Nolan turns one of his stimming toys over and over in his other hand. Lying next to him is a half completed drawing of the beach. Down by the surf, Ruben has sand packed on top of his entire body so only his head is visible. Birdie and Sohla stand on either side of him, and the three of them appear to be bickering lightly.

“Make me a mermaid!” Ruben is saying. “Give me a sweet pair of conch-covered tits and a cool tail.”

“No,” Sohla says. “Make him a mole rat. Give him grabby claws and a skinny tail.”

Ruben’s head swivels around frantically to look at Birdie. “Don’t listen to her, Birdie. Do not make me a molerat.”

Birdie quirks an eyebrow at him. A lopsided smile spreads across her lips. “You know I can’t do that.”

“No!” Ruben’s protests are nearly drowned out by the sound of Birdie and Sohla’s laughter as they begin patting the sand surrounding Ruben into a rodent-like form. “I am the sand guardian, guardian of the sand! Poseidon quivers before me!”

“Clam it, Stuart Little,” Sohla says lightly, inciting a string of rapid-fire protestations from Ruben, and Alison turns to look at Jay and Jay – well, Jay can do nothing more but smile.