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biteghost · 4 years ago

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How do you come up with so many cool characters?? All of your OCs seem so vibrant and fleshed out. Do you have a specific process for developing them, or do they just kinda come to you mostly formed? I find I struggle with building a compelling OCs for D&D games & would love to hear your thoughts on character development.

(This answer got long, sorry.) This is a super nice sentiment, I’m happy you think my characters are all cool and unique!!

As far as process goes, uh, it depends on the character? I’ve spent a long time (years) rewiring my brain when it comes to what I think about when creating OCs. They don’t usually come to me fully formed - I get an idea in my head about a concept, and then over like a week or even months of fiddling I end up with a character for that concept.

A lot of the time my characters are simply people I wanted to see more of in media as a kid! Mostly, female characters I actually relate to or are as nuanced and messy as their male cast members, haha... (It was a trip when I realized in high school that I didn’t hate female characters - it was actually that none of them were written as well as the cool boys in the anime series I liked, haha! Be the change you want to see in the world, basically.)

Inspiration for characters (and stories for them to be part of) come from a lot of places. An easy piece of advice is to make an effort to intake media you like! Read new comics, watch new movies and television shows, read books, play video games, listen to music and obsessively memorize the lyrics - hell, obsessively learn everything there is to know about black holes or public domain characters (that’s what I did, lol...)!

(Note: ’New’ meaning new to YOU - you don’t need to only be partaking of media that’s created in 2021 - you can find a lot to love in media that was created before your time, or for generations before you!)

I must reiterate: intake new media that you ENJOY! You don’t have to like all the same things as everyone else, you don’t have to be invested in the same shows and podcasts as your friends. Varied interests and taste is part of what makes us all unique! Increasing your pool of inspiration will help you come up with interesting ideas, and help you find YOUR voice. Your particular interests and the niche things that speak to you will help you figure out what kind of characters and what kind of stories you like to create! But the process doesn’t end at just intaking media... When you find the stuff that brings you joy, analyze what exactly it is about that thing that speaks to you... Put it into words. Explain it to a friend. Make it tangible, analyze the feelings and why the series made you feel that way... and then take it and shove it into your own stories, lol!

Engage critically and thoughtfully with work you like, with characters you like, and it will help you have the language and thought process to recreate it in your own work!

My creative process is like an exquisite corpse of all the characters and series I’ve liked over my lifetime. I mesh them all together in a grim blender and what comes out is a shake in the vague shape as an OC, lol

BUT... it seems like you’re asking more specifically about making characters for tabletop roleplaying games like D&D? And THAT is a different process for me than making OCs for my comics or original story ideas!

I don’t usually join a tabletop game with a fully fleshed out character, actually?? I don’t spend a long time on their backstory, and I usually figure it out like halfway through the story, or through collaboration with my game master!

My TTRPG characters are usually whatever I think would be most interesting in the given game setting or set-up and... usually they exist in opposition to whatever the core concept of the game is. So, the examples I have from games I’ve played are:

In Cardians: West (World of Darkness: Hunter the Vigil): we played in a modern-day urban fantasy setting, where players were recruited into a supernatural Hunter group that was also a criminal organization that Did Crimes and Broke The Law in the name of keeping peace and protecting humanity from the supernatural creatures that go bump in the night. I played Andrew, a Lawful Good Police Detective, because I thought playing a character who would need to grow past his original ideals of ‘Right and Wrong’ in the name of the greater good would be interesting! (And it was!)

In SINNING ADVENTURE (WoD: Geist: The Sin-Eaters) we payed in a modern-day urban fantasy setting with the premise that the players all Died and were brought back to life by forming a pact with a powerful spirit (and getting cool ghost powers in the process!) I played Cassius, a character who could not cope with his death, and thus refused to use his new powers because they were evidence that he was no longer strictly human. It caused conflict in the group and world, but I thought it would be interesting! (And it was! Cassius was a Bitch.)

In Rex Machina (Dungeons and Dragons 5E), I wanted to play an Aarakocra, but was having a hard time deciding on a class or backstory... until I found out that in the ‘canon’ of D&D Aarakocra only live to be like, mid 20s???? Their lifespans are insanely short compared to other playable races!! And I thought that was stupid, so I decided to make MY Aarakocra, Izzy, a warlock that’s looking for ways to extend his own stupidly short life. His pact essentially granted that to him, giving him extra time to find a way to achieve True Immortality. His conflict challenges what’s ‘true’ living in this world, and his extended life is in direct conflict with a lot of forces in the world we play in, and while it is very stressful I think it’s really interesting to play!

In Lamplighting (Monster of the Week), my character Aicen is an assassin who made a deal with a demon and gained supernatural perks out of it... except I decided that she doesn’t WANT to be in this deal. She is actively trying to undo it because it wasn’t her deal - she inherited it from a CEO that she killed during an unrelated job. (Aicen is probably my character I’ve put the most backstory into, and that’s just because at character creation in MOTW you are given a lot of questions about who your character is and why they’re where they are!)

In Hand of Adam (WoD: HtV), the concept was that all players were going to join a post-apocalyptic supernatural-hating cult. I played Shouter, who was a self-preserving pacifist coward who also turned out to be a fae (which the cult would have killed him over). It was stressful but very fun. I love Shouter. He ran away from fights and didn’t actually kill anyone until the last episode where they fought God (whom he killed, lol).

NOW. THESE ARE ALL JUST EXAMPLES OF HOW *I* LIKE TO PLAY CHARACTERS!! For me personally, I enjoy playing a character who has built-in conflict either with the world, the story, or the other players. I’m only able to play characters like this because my friend group are all really cool and we all know that conflict is not bad - it’s fiction and we’re just roleplaying! If I didn’t trust my GMs and fellow players as much as I do, I probably wouldn’t have felt comfortable enough playing some of these concepts.

I don’t think you need to know every little thing about a tabletop character, and in fact, not knowing some things and leaving it up to the GM and story to flesh out is an easy way to help you get more invested in both your character AND the story your GM is telling! Tabletops are a collaborative storytelling experience, so if you’ve already plotted out your character’s whole story, there won’t be much participation from other players or your GM. Figure out what your character wants, and let your roleplaying and GM slowly put all the other pieces in place over the course of your campaign!

But the TL:DR about how I make tabletop OCs is that I just... try to give them a goal, an ideal, or a personality that is in direct conflict with some aspect of the game we’re playing. I don’t want the character to be undermining the whole game, because that’s really crappy to do to your GM, but I have to have something for my character to grow through or change. I like giving them built-in character arc starters, lol. I haven’t played a game where my character has gotten along with every other player character and NPC over the entire campaign since my very FIRST game, lol!

Also, if you’re having trouble, why not ask your GM what they think? Again, tabletops are collaborative! Don’t be afraid to talk ideas out with your GM for your character.

A final note about playing in specifically oneshot games (i.e. games that are not long campaigns but are meant to be played in one or two sittings). Personally, I always just retrofit an OC I already have to play in oneshots! When I make a new character for a long campaign, it usually takes me two or three sessions to find their voice and figure out how to roleplay them. If the game you’re playing is only one session, I find it easier to jump right in and get the most out of your character and the game when you’re playing a character you already know pretty well! I’ve played characters from my webcomic quite a few times, and it’s always a lot more fun for me than figuring out a new character on the fly!

SO UH, IN CONCLUSION... sorry if this is mad unhelpfu!! My personal processes are unique to me! but that's the point - no one person will have the exact answer that works for you! You have to keep trying until you figure it out for yourself! Good luck! Keep creating! <3

#long post #asktime #not art #art talk #writing talk #tabletop talk #gif #iwishihadhorns

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years ago

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 200

200

Standing in the childhood home of Keith, Lance felt as if he was trespassing on the site of ancient and important ruins. The shack had been made by Jeong, according to Krolia, his little anger muffin inheriting none of his dad’s skill. After 20 years of abandonment, there wasn’t a space that was coated in thick dust or cobwebs. As much as Lance wanted to explore, he felt it’d be best if he remained outside so as not breath in anything nasty, or be reduced to a coughing fit... Especially not after the extra bumpy drive in which Krolia seemed to find every single rut and dip in the dirt road.

Having the memory of the living space imbedded in his mind, made it easy to fill in spaces with his imagination. Keith and his dad would have totally eaten in front of the TV. Keith would have played with the long discarded toys still left on the floor. No one had packed the house up. It still looked ready for Keith and Jeong to walk back into their lives, if you didn’t take into account the dust. Just how it’d remained standing astonished him more than the fact they were at Keith’s childhood house. This was the place Krolia and Jeong had called home. This was where they’d been happiest. And now it was... empty and hollow. Waiting for it’s owner that’d never come home.

Hearing Keith sneezing, Lance turned to very carefully lean on the front pole that supported a slim roof over the front door. His fiancé bound to have inhaled enough dust now that his nose would itching madly. God. His fiancé... Warmth swelled in his chest as his cheeks dusted red. Yeah, it’d be a long while before he didn’t feel giddy at mentally calling Keith his fiancé. He’d waited, not sure it’d happen quite so soon, and yet, on top of having now known him for 365 days, Keith had agreed. Lance accidentally true to his sentimental heart, not realising the date until he’d seen the date on his phone earlier.

A few moments later, Keith came out covered head to toe in cobwebs and dust, nose wrinkling as he examined himself in the light of day. How lucky he was to have this idiot who resembled a cobweb brush

“This is insane. Dust should have a limit. You should be allowed a maximum quota and once you’ve reached it, it shouldn’t be allowed to settle”

Trying to pull cobweb from his hair, Keith rubbed it between the thick locks. How he’d managed to survive being an adult as long as he did, was kind of a miracle

“Come here, you. I’ll do it for you”

Obediently Keith stood still as Lance dusted him off. Both of them wanted to say something to the other, yet neither knew what to say. Lance didn’t want to push Keith into talking. Not when he had to process the fact he was once again back where everything had started for him. The home they’d had in Cuba had been brought by family, Lance hadn’t had a chance to go there with him Mami and do the whole “I remember... thing”. He wondered if Keith had remembered anything at all, yet suspected he didn’t from the look in his eyes. Guilt didn’t suit Keith. He much preferred him smiling, so he did the only thing he could think of to make Keith smile and kissed on the tip of the nose.

Rubbing where Lance had kissed, Keith’s nose twitched. A sneeze forming then getting stuck as his fiancé partially opened his mouth only for nothing to come out

“The internet says if you say “sneeze”, it should help”

With an unimpressed look, Keith’s breath caught before finally sneezing ridiculously hard. The werewolf wiping at his nose as Lance watched, kind of finding it cute. Not the sneeze but the sheer unhappiness over how the sneeze had gotten stuck then the force of it

“Better?”

“Mhmm. Don’t go inside, it’s dusty”

“Thanks for the warning, babe. I’ll keep that in mind as I watch from out here”

“That’s why you’re the smart one... we...”

Keith sneezed twice, just as hard as that first sneeze before groaning and rubbing his nose on his hand

“We should have aired the shack out”

They couldn’t go back in time and do that now, plus they’d have to remember to close the place back up. Krolia had found the spare house key, buried inside a bottle that was buried in where Lance assumed once was a small garden under the front window. Sand had swallowed it all. Then they’d found lock had seized, obviously, and needed a little “help” to open. It was sad

“It’s too late now. How do feel being back?”

“I... thought maybe I remembered like fragments, but I don’t remember much of anything. Mum does... she’s going from room to room... but I feel like a stranger”

Keith was on the edge of tears. Lance taking his face in his hands

“It’s okay not to remember everything or anything immediately. It’s okay because being here means you get to make some new memories. I know the dust is depressing, but under that, I see a home where you played on the floor. Where you and your dad eat in front of the TV. Where he tucked you into bed every night. It feels depressing and cold right now, probably completely unimaginable that you lived her, but this is another part of knowing your dad. We should take some photos. It doesn’t matter if you’re not up to looking at them now, at least you’ll have them for when you’re ready”

“I wanted everything to come back”

“I know, babe. Maybe some things will once your brain starts putting the pieces together. The important thing is not to be mad at yourself for something you have no control over”

Keith snorted, before sighing

“I don’t know what to do”

“Let the house air a bit, then take photos. Mum’s stories might be hard to hear, but they’re all part of the puzzle”

Trying his hardest to be supportive, Keith simply rolled his eyes at his words

“I think I really fucking hate puzzles”

“Nah. I bet given the chance, you’d be a total ho for puzzles”

“I’m a ho for you”

“I know. You know, it’s kind of nice out here”

There was no one around, other than the other 3. No cars. No noisy traffic. No people... it was essentially a house in the middle of small desert. Weeds seem to even give the grounds around the house a miss, and there were no trees which meant no birds or animals around. What had Joe been through that had led him to such an isolated life? Or was it because people were racist dicks that he’d chosen to carve out his own small part of the world. To think in a way Lance was kind of like him. With his house out where no one was. Living alonish... Now the house was filled with noises, he liked it much better.

“The location does have its charms”

A peaceful existence was all Lance had wanted. With Keith around, Joe’s existence would have become all more happier

“Probably not when you’re a little kid, but you would have had all Joe’s attention when he was home”

“Because there’s a great lot of other things to do”

“Babe, you’re still a handful as it is. I bet he loved every moment he spent in this home with you”

“Maybe”

“Nope. “Definitely”, is the word you’re after. I know from personal experience... well, after you stopped thinking I was trying to trick into thinking you hadn’t turned”

Keith groaned

“I’m never going to live that down”

“Nope. But hey, you’re the cutest not turned vampire around, so it worked out in the end. How’s your ego feeling?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s sad, but mum keeps talking and it doesn’t know what to do”

“If it gets too much, let me know. I can totally fake sick if you need”

Keith kissed his palm, the action soft and sweet, even with his dirty face

“You’re too good to me”

Chuckling, Lance sensed an impending loop on the horizon. Keith could say what he wanted, yet Lance knew he was the one lacking. His fiancé was so fucking strong

“We’re not going into that again. I love you, babe. You should go back in if you feel up to it”

“Will you come?”

He hadn’t wanted to intrude, or face the dust, but Keith was asking so he couldn’t say no

“Sure...”

Keith let himself be lost in thought on the drive back from his father’s shack. When he’d been a teen, he’d been so desperate to find his way back there. Now he’d been there, the place was... depressing. Krolia had scavenged up the few photos that mould hadn’t destroyed, as well as a few other small pieces. Shiro kept casting glances at him, and Lance had a coughing fit so hard that Keith winced for his fiancé.

He’d come to find out about his dad... He now knew things he hadn’t known before, but it’d also reinforced that his family was nothing like Lance’s. Lance would have kept up the maintenance of the shack. He would have come out every so often to wipe away the layers of dust lovingly and air the place out. Any repairs that needed doing, he would have done it all without a second thought. Heck, Lance had had his eyes on all the things wrong with the place like he was daydreaming about fixing them all... and now his fiancé was snoring softly as he leaned into Keith in the back of Shiro’s sedan. At least they had a room. Shiro, Krolia, and Curtis were all going to have to check in while covered in filth, whereas he could whisk Lance away and clean them both up.

Slowly they made their way back to town, and Lance managed to stay asleep right up to Krolia jerking the car to a stop in the hotel parking lot. Blurry sleepy eyes blinked up at him at him, Lance realising he’d fallen asleep and going to apologise. Keith kissing the words away. He didn’t need to apologise for anything. Not as far as Keith was concerned. Having Lance with him for all of this was more than enough. Undoing his belt, Shiro turned back to grin at them like he’d never seen them snuggled up before

“You guys need any help?”

“Nah, I’ve got him. You guys alright to check in?”

“We’ll work it out. Want to grab some lunch?”

Lunch would mean talking and Keith didn’t want a concerned Shiro questioning what he did and didn’t remember. He was too busy being mad at himself for not remembering

“I think I’m going to take a nap and grab something later. Today was... enough”

“As long as you’re okay”

Keith rolled his eyes

“Yes, dad. We’re fine. Come on, babe. It’s shower time”

Lance’s staggering lasted a few moments before Keith lifted him off his feet. Steps and stairs were bad enough for Lance at the best of times. Sighing at him, Lance let himself be carried, Keith happy he was being so obedient about it. Carrying Lance made him feel strong. Not that he hadn’t been able to carry him before the turn, just now he had the strength to carry him with the surety he wouldn’t be dropping him.

Balancing his fiancé on his knee, Keith fumbled the key into the lock, opening it to find Lenny had dumped box after box on their bed. His ego hated that their space had been violated, yet opted to sulk rather than be angry because it worried for their tired mate. He’d liked to do things for Lance before, now he felt a rush of pride for everything right he did... Egos’ really were pathetically fragile and in need of constant reassurance... a thought at which his ego huffed unimpressed. Maybe he should buy the damn thing a trophy and let it bask until all it’s pettiness had left his system? If only he’d be that lucky. How could his ego possibly be upset that his father had died when it had nothing to do with it?

When Lance went down for a nap, Keith was just about comfortably cuddled. He’d gotten everything they’d needed, and filled the bedside table with it, so Shiro calling his name only made him groan. Naturally Shiro wanted to talk. This was Shiro. The second he felt any kind of emotion, his brother wanted to know all about it. As harsh it sounded to him in his head, Keith wanted a break from learning about his father. He wanted a time out to process. But no. Said time out wasn’t happening, despite how tempting it was to stay cuddled up with his smoking hot fiancé who’s arse was perfectly aligned with his crotch. Cock blocked by his dumb brother, he and Lance would have their revenge later.

Tugging on a shirt, Keith dragged himself out the hotel room to find Shiro leaning against the railing. The view was of the road and the couple of cars parked across the road that belonged to holiday goers. Boring as heck

“You wanted to talk?”

Knowing he sounded a tad too blunt, Keith knew Shiro well enough to know Shiro knew it was unintentional

“Yeah, kiddo. Is now okay?”

“Sure. Lance’s sleep pattern’s all over the place. He’ll be out until he has to pee again”

“That sounds rough”

“It is... I mean for him it’s rough. Not much I can do to change things”

Joining Shiro in leaning against the balcony, this was better than having him inside with all the files on his father. Now the pair of them were stuck staring at the boring road

“Keith... You’d tell me right. You’d tell me if you weren’t okay”

And there it was. Shiro’s worry. They’d grown almost radio silent apart... There was a time Keith could barely go a few hours without talking to Shiro... Mumbling awkwardly, Keith decided the railing was much more interesting to stare at

“You’re worrying too much... I’m not a snot nosed little brat anymore”

Shiro didn’t disagree, yet he also didn’t agree or praise Keith for his emotional growth. Instead his brother slung his arm around his shoulder and gave a tight squeeze

“I miss you, kiddo. I know how you feel about losing your father. So I know that none of this is easy for you”

“I... I didn’t feel... I felt like a stranger at the shack. I mean... I learned about my dad... bits and pieces, and I think maybe I’ve got a better idea than before, but I’m tired. I can’t stop thinking about what mum went through... and I can’t stop thinking about dad burning to death. I guess I’m not okay, but Lance has been really good. He’s been really patient with me... mostly... I made him cry yesterday and he ended up yelling at me for my stupidity. All of this feels exhausting”

“Yeah? And your ego?”

“Don’t even go there. We were about two seconds away from me ripping Lenny’s throat out. I can’t... cope with all this stuff about my dad and my ego... I honestly just... want to stop thinking about it right now...”

Kissing the top of Keith’s head, Keith mentally sighed at himself. Shiro had pulled his infamous mind trick and his mouth had moved on its own

“It was pretty confronting to see the shack. I know when I picked you up, all you wanted to do was get back there... I’m sorry it wasn’t what you were expecting”

“I don’t know what I was expecting... but... I keep hearing about dad and I don’t know if I feel any closer to him. I don’t know this place. I don’t know his friends. I don’t know why he chose here of all places. I don’t know... He feels further away than ever”

“That’s not true. He’s still here. A bit of him and a bit of Krolia made you, and I’m pretty damn grateful you’re here”

“I haven’t been much of a brother...”

“You’ve got a lot going on”

Keith shook his head. That was no excuse

“We used to be... so close. Now I can’t even stand the city. Even being here... there’s so many noises. I don’t know how Lance does it. He tells me to be patient. But I don’t want to be patient... I... said something really stupid and I really upset him. I told him maybe it’d all hurt less if I’d died”

Shiro sucked in a shaky breath

“I can see why”

“So can I... I’m just... done with feeling so... feeling that all of this is so much. I couldn’t even say... I didn’t know what to tell dad. I probably would still be standing there staring at his grave if Lance hadn’t given me some of his strength...”

“Kiddo, you’ve always been strong”

Keith gave a dry chuckle. He’d been a fucking moron, too hell bent on being angry to accept he was overthinking absolutely everything and paranoid that he’d never be seen as himself or outside of Krolia, and Shiro’s, shadows

“Right. I was a jerk to Krolia. Hated almost everyone we worked with. Stuffed up missions. Caused trouble for you and Adam...”

He hadn’t been oblivious to the fights between his brother and Adam. Now that he thought about it, they’d missed the anniversary of Adam’s death... He hadn’t... he hadn’t even been with Shiro on the day... Shit. His head had been full of Lance, not... the man who’d tried to father/brother/guide him the best he could by Shiro’s side

“We can stand here and talk about all the things you’ve done wrong, or you can accept that you were a bit of a dick and you want to make amends”

“I wanted to see mum yesterday. Her. You... I don’t know how you made it through... I’m sorry. I should have done more”

Shiro squeezed him again

“You know, it hurts and it’s hard, but in a way, we got through all of this thinking about you. I had you to help me through. Krolia had the thought of your safety and one day meeting you...”

That didn’t make it okay. Keith groaning when thought about his past “anger loaf” self

“I was such a douche canoe”

Shiro chuckled

“That’s a new one”

What was what? His brother doing him a temporary confuse

“What...? Oh... not really. Lance has all sorts of weird sayings for things...”

“He’s really rubbed off on you... Is he okay? He seems really exhausted. It’s not going to be like it was on your birthday weekend, is it? Does he need blood?”

“He’s okay. Coran said he could feed off me and it hasn’t seemed to have any negative effects... We um... he... um... kind of... yeah”

“It that your way of informing me you spent all afternoon in bed and that’s the real reason Lance is exhausted?”

No. That was him narrowly avoiding telling me his brother that Lance had sort of proposed and he’d agreed... and then they’d had amazing sex, stinking up the hotel room comfortably until his idiot family ruined it

“Yeah. You didn’t have to say it out loud. It sounds bad when you put it like that”

“You two couldn’t keep your hands off each other before, I’m hardly surprised...”

The passion was still very much there, but there was definitely less spontaneous bouts these days. Lance had shockingly low self esteem, maybe he should jump him more often? Huffing, Keith sounded more whiny than cranky with his mate

“It’s... not like that. He’s been struggling with his body changing ever since he first started showing. He’s an idiot. He seriously thought his body changing was going to ruin everything. He keeps saying that he’s fat and not sexy because he’s so heavily pregnant. Its total bullshit... Like, he’s... he’s still him. And god, Shiro... the sex is still amazing... the sounds he makes...”

His ego was getting riled up at the thought. Shiro’s scent starting to grate on his senses when his mind wanted his body in bed with his mate... Still, he couldn’t bring himself to simply push Shiro away. He was a walking bundle of contradictions and felt almost like he’d lose his mind from all the going back and forth he was stuck doing

“I’m going to stop you right there. Okay. I get it. You want to be a good boyfriend to Lance. If Coran says it’s safe for you to feed him, than it must be... but I’m still going to worry about it”

“It seems his curse kills my curse. It hasn’t negatively impacted on the twins... but he is drinking so much blood that it’s hard to not worry”

“How much is “so much”?”

Enough to be what they’d thought all vampires drank on a regular basis

“He’s gone from one bag split over three meals a day, to four or five bags a day, with fresh blood on top of it. The pregnancy has taken so much out of him. You can see he’s visibly older looking now, and he’s struggling to put on any weight he’s lost from constantly vomiting”

“That’s...”

“A lot. You know what he’s like. He doesn’t like drinking blood”

Shiro snorted, deciding now he needed to pretty much lean his whole weight against him. His brother was a dick, Keith half thinking of feigning weakness just to watch Shiro trip over his own feet, but his ego wouldn’t let him

“He’s the most “unvampire” vampire we’ve ever come across. A bit like you... you’re not a very “wolf” werewolf”

“Fuck off. Lance says I’m manly and shit”

“Sure, kiddo. A manly werewolf that sits outside his boyfriend’s window and cries his head off. Matt told me all about your first moon”

Fucking Matt. Keith couldn’t remember his first full moon... that wasn’t playing nicely

“Matt needs to be neutered. He’s a fucking menace”

Shiro clicked his finger, pushing off of Keith and turning to face him. His brother’s smile so wide it verged on creepy

“A menace that’s engaged. Or is getting engaged. He came to Platt to pick the ring up. He swore me to secrecy...”

“I can see how seriously you took that”

Arranging his expression as neutral as he could, Keith was annoyed. Couldn’t Matt have literally picked any other goddamn day of the year

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. He decided seeing you and Lance were away for your one year anniversary, it’d be a good time to step up and put a ring on it”

“Rieva would hit you if she could hear you, and what do you mean “our one year anniversary”? We didn’t get together until May”

“Ahhh, baby brother of mine, you met Lance a year ago, yesterday. You know he never forgets. Someone’s in trouble”

Keith now knew the date. Had Lance chosen yesterday for that reason? It was more likely his fiancé barely remembered the days of the week given vacation time moved differently from normal time

“Yeah. You. You’re going to be in trouble if you keep teasing me”

“Awww, little Keefy is cranky”

It took all Keith had not to pick Shiro up and throw him over the balcony railing, then kick down Krolia’s door, grab her, and toss her over to land on top of his brother. Stupid Krolia... that name was definitely going to stick then he’d have to put up with hearing it from everyone.

“Fuck you. I’m going back to Lance”

“Too cool to hang with your big brother?”

“Not when he’s all smelly. Go take a shower already, you’re getting me dirty again”

“Consider these cobwebs of love”

That didn’t even make any sense. Shiro was getting senile in his old age

“You’ve got cobwebs between your ears, old man”

“Come on, Keith. Give your big brother a hug”

Dodging Shiro, Keith put up a very half arsed attempt. Shiro wrapping his arms around his waist and hoisting him up backwards. The torture lasting a few moments before he was placed back down again. His idiot brother wiping himself against him, trying to get off one last cobweb

“There. You’re all nice and webby now”

“You suck. You suck and that was totally abusing your brotherly privileges”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway. Okay, you’re all dirty now, you can go away”

Huffing at Shiro, the werewolf didn’t know why he was smiling so happily about things when he was very clearly outwardly annoyed

“Oh, trust me. I am going. You better remember to bring me a peace offering for this”

“Nah. I told you these are cobwebs of love”

��And I told you you’re old”

Shoving him playfully, Keith lunged for the handle to his and Lance’s room, smoothly opening the door and darting inside before his brother got any other ideas. Poking his tongue out at Shiro, Shiro flipped him off. Both of them smiling at each other in a way that reaffirmed that everything was okay between them. With the chance of him saying something teasably sentimental, Keith shut the door softly in Shiro’s face, before realising his brother had sentenced him to have yet another shower for the day. His big brother really was a big bother.

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose

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stahlop · 5 years ago

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Once Upon a Time 2x14 “Manhattan” Review

Reviews 1x01 1x02 1x03 1x04 1x05 1x06 1x07 1x08 1x09 1x10 1x11 1x12 1x13 1x14 1x15 1x16 1x17 1x18 1x19 1x20 1x21 1x22 2x01 2x02 2x03 2x04 2x05 2x06 2x07 2x08 2x09 2x10 2x11 2x12 2x13

Well, holy shit! Neal and Baelfire are the same person! Who saw that coming (right, pretty much everyone)? And he’s still an asshole. Apparently Milah and Rumplestiltskin were actually in love with each other at one point, but she turned on him rather quickly. Emma is not in a good place right now. Not only has she discovered that fate is responsible for everything, but Henry has found out the truth about his father. Also, Cora wants the Dark One Dagger which can’t be good.

Summary: Emma discovers that Neal is Gold’s son and has to come to terms with that. Hook, Cora, and Regina find the map with the coordinates for the Dark One Dagger. In the Enchanted Forest, Rumplestiltskin gets called to be in the Ogres War, but a prophecy from a Seer has him taking desperate measures to go home.

Opening: NYC

Character Observations:

Rumplestiltskin/Gold: So, before he was a coward, before Milah was disgusted by the sight of him, Rumplestiltskin and Milah were actually in love. And he’s all about joining the Ogres War to prove he’s not a coward like his father (wow, let’s hope Henry doesn’t end up with the coward trait that apparently has plagued that family for the past three generations). After what I’m assuming is at least 6-7 months, Rumplestiltskin is tasked with guarding a crate for an officer who is called to the front. He is told it contains a beast that can help them win the Ogres War. It turns out to be a child who is a Seer (and she’s scary as all hell, eye sockets stitched up and actual eyes in her hands, who came up with that nightmare?). Rumplestiltskin won’t indulge hearing his future because it’s dark magic (oh the irony), but once the Seer starts talking about Milah, Rumplestiltskin is all in to hear what she has to say. He gives her water in exchange for what she has to say. She tells him Milah is already with child, a son (Rumplestiltskin is so happy about this news), but Rumplestiltskin’s actions on the battlefield tomorrow will leave him fatherless. Which he takes to mean he will die. But when the Seer refuses to give more information, Rumplestiltskin thinks she’s lying. She tells him they will meet again and he’ll help her again. He again accuses her of lying. She gives him one last vision of them riding cows into battle the next day so that he knows she is speaking the truth. She reiterates her original vision and Rumplestiltskin covers the crate back up. The next morning (early as the sun has not even risen yet), Rumplestiltskin sees injured men coming from the battlefield. A fellow soldier (also not wearing a hood of any kind) tells him they’re lucky because the only way you can go home from the Ogres War is if you’re injured and cannot fight anymore. The officer tells the troops that they have just received horses for battle. He calls the saddles cows, confirming what the Seer said about riding cows into battle. Rumplestiltskin is getting very worried now that the Seer’s vision has come true. He is convinced he will die in battle and never see Milah or meet his son. He goes to the Seer’s crate, but she is no longer there. He just happens to see a blacksmith’s mallet and decides he’s going to injure himself by bashing his knee. Why did he decide to do this before the battle? If he’d done this during the battle no one would have been the wiser that it wasn’t a battle injury and then he would’ve gone home a hero. But now we know how he got his limp and why he was branded a coward. So, apparently Rumplestiltskin had to walk home from the front on an injured knee (is that how all the injured had to get home, by walking?), and when he gets home, not only has Milah already had the baby, but she’s up and about and lost the baby weight (how long was Rumplestiltskin go for?). She does not look that happy to see him. Rumplestiltskin immediately asks what the baby’s name is before even saying hello to his wife (always with the names Rumple). When Milah tells him Baelfire, he’s ecstatic that she chose a strong name (no reasoning why she chose this name?), and that he’ll need it to live with the shame of being his son. Rumplestiltskin tries to justify his actions to Milah but she’s not having it. And here’s the Milah we’ve seen before, the one who hates her husband with the fires of 1000 suns. She brands him a coward like his father. Rumplestiltskin has had enough! His father tried to abandon him, he would never do the same to his child. Honestly, I wish we’d seen this episode before Desperate Souls, The Return, and The Crocodile, because then we’d have had great foreshadowing rather than a ‘look how much we’re going to run into the ground how Rumple loved his family, hated dark magic and would never abandon his son’ episode that shows us just how low he went by becoming the Dark One and abandoning all his ideals. Rumplestiltskin doesn’t know what Milah wanted him to do. She tells him he could have fought and died. He’s heartbroken about that, but instantly goes into loving father mode when she hands him Bae so she can go off and be alone. We next see Rumplestiltskin a little bit after Bae left, having found the Seer. He’s mad that, while what she told him was the truth, it didn’t pan out the way he thought it would. She should have told him the details. He wants to find his son. She tells him it will take many years and a curse. A curse he will not cast or break. He wants more details, she tells him she has limits. Rumplestiltskin doesn’t think that’s good enough. He tries to strangle the Seer into telling him more, but she tells him he needs to take her powers if he wants to see what he needs to do. He gladly does. He doesn’t understand it all when it hits him. The Seer tells him it’s a puzzle to be sorted and soon he’ll be able to distinguish between what could be and what will be. He accuses her of wanting to give him her power so she could be free from the torment of visions. She tells him he’ll work it all out. The Seer has one last vision before she dies which basically insinuates that Henry will be Rumplestiltskin’s undoing, whatever that means.

Gold is desperate to find his son. He has taken Emma and Henry as far as his magic could help him in finding Bae. An apartment building. Emma deduces that the one buzzer without a name belongs to his son, and he runs when they ring the bell. Gold tells Emma that the deal will be fulfilled when she brings his son back and he gets to talk with him. Henry tries to comfort Gold while they wait. Gold thanks him for bringing Emma to Storybrooke as none of this would have happened otherwise. Or you know, if Gold hadn’t been such a coward back in the day, he wouldn’t have ruined everyone’s lives by manipulating Regina into casting the curse and he could have been living with his son happily ever after. But potato, po-tah-to. Henry tells Gold that he forgave Emma for giving him up because she did what she thought was best, and his son will forgive him too. Gold tells him the situation is quite different and not so noble. Henry thinks that because he is there now his son will have to forgive him too. Gold is getting exceedingly nervous. Henry doesn’t understand why; he was excited to meet his mom (oh, to have Henry’s optimism). Gold says that life experience has shown him that things don’t always go the way you want them to. Henry starts wondering why Gold didn’t just look into the future to find out how their reunion would go. Gold explains that trying to figure out visions of the future is more like a puzzle with missing pieces; difficult to read and never what you think. Emma comes back and tells them his son got away and Gold is disappointed. But not disappointed enough that he doesn’t break into the apartment to look for clues. Emma tries to dissuade him, telling him he could get arrested, but he uses that as an excuse for his son to have to see him to either press or drop charges. Gold notices Emma looking at a dreamcatcher in the apartment so he thinks she’s not telling him something and starts yelling at her. They go back and forth with Gold accusing Emma of knowing something and Emma saying she doesn’t until he finally threatens that he’ll make her tell him. Emma reminds him he has no magic here and Gold knocks something over and says no one breaks deals with him and then Neal comes in. Gold is in visible shock when he sees his son. Gold thinks Neal came to talk to him, but Neal says he just came to make sure he didn’t hurt Emma, as he’s seen what his father does to people who break deals. Gold just wants to talk to Neal, but Neal wants him out of his apartment. Emma tries to defuse the situation, but Gold realizes the two of them know each other, and the second Henry walks in, he puts it together. And he also puts together that Neal has inherited the abandoning his son trait that all the men in Rumplestiltskin’s line seem to fall victim to. Neal wants his father out of his apartment but Gold tells him the deal was for Emma to get Neal to talk to him. Neal gives him three minutes. And then Gold goes crazy, because he actually thinks Neal will take his offer of making him 14 again, erasing his memory, and getting to live his life out with his father. What the Fuck?! Has this literally been his plan the whole time? Neal just found out he’s a father, does Gold really think he’ll abandon him to become a teenager again? Gold just wants Neal to give him a chance. He even shows him how he’s changed by coming to the Land Without Magic, but Neal calls him out by saying how he’s still trying to use magic to make up for everything. Neal tells him he’s letting him go like he let him go all those years ago. Gold tells Neal he��s sorry, but Neal doesn’t care. He walks away to go talk to Henry. We end with Gold remembering the prophecy about the boy and probably wondering what he’s going to do since ‘the boy’ has turned out to be his grandson.

Neal: Oh, god, where do I even start with Neal. His treatment of Emma is still abysmal. I’m glad he tells Gold off, because he totally deserves it, but the way he deals with Emma is just horrible. We first see him running when Emma tries to get into his apartment, so we already know he’s still shady, if someone ringing his bell causes him to panic and run. Then, when he realizes it’s Emma chasing him he actually seems happy to see her. Like what does he think is going to happen? Or is it just the fact that she’s alive and well? Then she starts questioning him and he’s confused until she mentions his father and Rumplestiltskin. Then he’s pissed that she brought his father to NYC and Emma is rightly more pissed when she tells him he doesn’t get to be angry. Emma starts peppering him with questions but he wants to get off the street (again, telling me that he’s into something shady if he doesn’t want to be seen on the street), and tells her to follow him to a bar. Emma doesn’t want to go, but then he jokes that she can continue yelling at him there. I’m glad to see his sense of humor is still in tact during this whole thing. Emma reluctantly follows. At the bar Neal tells Emma she can ask him whatever she wants (and they’ve apparently already been there long enough for Neal to order and receive a beer). Neal tells her he didn’t know who she was and August told him later. He wouldn’t have gone near her if he’d known who she was (wow, just wow!). Emma is very close to tears now, telling Neal she loved him. Neal claims he was just trying to help her by getting her home. Was there seriously no other way he could have done this? I’m sure if he’d just told her about the curse she would’ve thought he was crazy and just left him all on her own. No jail time required. Emma is still nonplussed that them meeting was a coincidence. Neal says him and Emma meeting could have messed things up with getting her to break the curse. Neal chalks it up to fate and destiny. He thinks maybe they met for a reason and something good came out of their relationship (yep, Henry, the reason Emma broke the curse). Notice that Neal never asks Emma how she got to Storybrooke or how she broke the curse. It’s still all about him and his feelings. Emma says she just ended up in jail, and she’s over it and him. Neal smiles when he sees she’s still wearing the swan keychain and calls her out on it. She tears it off and claims it was to remind her not to trust anyone ever again. Emma tries to bring him back to Gold, and Neal is upset she made a deal with him, but he’s not going back and there’s nothing she can do about it. But he does end up back at his apartment, trying to save Emma from his father. And while they’re arguing, Neal and Emma get a little too familiar with each other and then Henry comes out, calling Emma mom and Neal realizes that Henry is his son. And I get that he’s upset that he didn’t know about him and that Emma wasn’t going to tell him about Henry, but he left her and framed her and put her in jail. Emma doesn’t owe him anything! Neal wants to go talk to Emma and Henry, but Gold wants to talk to him first, which Neal doesn’t want to do until Gold tells him that’s part of the deal with Emma. So they talk, and Gold talks crazy, and nothing Gold says makes him want to forgive his father. Neal tells him that all Gold has thought about is what he, himself went through to find him, but never once has he thought about what he, his son, has been through all these years. I may not like Neal, but finally, someone is calling out Gold for his selfishness. Thank you! Neal tells him how he sees that image of his father letting go of his hand every night and how he chose magic (with a little nod to Rumplestiltskin’s gesturing) over him. Neal is done with him and tells him to get out. Here’s the thing though, I see no emotion in Neal’s face or voice. It’s like he’s talking to a wall and not his father, and I don’t know if that’s an acting choice or that the actor just couldn’t get the emotional range needed. Either way, I get more emotional over Gold’s reactions, even though he deserves it, than I do over Neal’s. Emma comes back in to tell Neal that Henry wants to meet him. Neal accuses Emma of not telling him about Henry (at this moment), and she says she wasn’t planning on telling him. Neal says Henry is his kid too so he gets some say now (no, he really doesn’t get any say, I doubt he’s even on the original birth certificate and Emma has no legal right to him at the moment), and Emma snipes at him. Neal takes a deep breath and Emma asks him not to break his heart. He claims he won’t do what his father did, and Emma reminds him that he broke her heart. Neal doesn’t even look guilty about this, he’s almost insulted that she brings it up again. He says they’re all messed up and to not let Henry get messed up too (too late). Neal apologizes to Henry for not being there before, but Henry says it’s okay because he didn’t know about him (and Neal doesn’t look guilty here either, because he should).

Emma: She is not having a good day. I mean, who would be having a good day when the person she was betrayed the most by happens to also be the son Gold wants her to find for him. So Emma discovers Neal is Gold’s son and rightly freaks out because now she thinks her whole life has been a lie. She rightly questions Neal about whether he knew who she was when they met, but Neal’s freaking out over his father having finally found him. He yells at Emma for bringing Rumplestiltskin to him, but Emma’s not having it. And I get that Neal is very pissed off at his father, but Emma has way more right to be pissed right now because her whole life has just gone off kilter. She’s already had to deal with the fact that her parents are fairy tale characters and she had to break a curse and she’s the savior, but now the guy who broke her has turned up again and happens to be connected to all the fairy tale characters that she’s just getting used to. It’s a lot to take in. So they ‘talk’. Emma is trying so hard during this conversation to not cry. You can see it in her face and hear it in her voice. She will not let her emotions take over. Emma thinks everything was a set up between them and that Neal just used her to take the fall for the watches. Neal claims if he’d known who she was when they met he never would’ve gone near her. Wow, that’s harsh. Emma’s even more pissed that he essentially ran off because August told him to. Emma is incredulous that they could’ve met if he or Gold didn’t orchestrate it, but Neal thinks it was fate, because them meeting could’ve stopped her from going to Storybrooke and breaking the curse. I’m sure Emma is thinking about how them being together is exactly how she got to Storybrooke to break the curse. Neal thinks they must have met for a reason and that something good came out of their relationship, but Emma is not going to bring Henry into this, so she lies and tells him the only thing that happened was she went to jail. She also pulls off the swan keychain she wore because she’s had her closure with Neal and doesn’t need it anymore. She’s still insistent on bringing Neal back to Gold. Neal tells her she doesn’t have to uphold her end and Emma says she knows. She’s actually looking forward to that confrontation, I can tell. But Neal won’t go and tells Emma to tell his father she lost him in the chase. If she does that, she’ll never see him again. Emma’s down with the never seeing Neal again. On the way back to Gold and Henry, Emma calls Mary Margaret because she doesn’t know what to do. She’s looking for validation to not tell Henry about his father, but Mary Margaret makes her see that Emma is not protecting Henry but protecting herself. Emma goes back to Gold and he decides to break into Neal’s apartment to wait for his son. Emma notices a dreamcatcher on the window and thinks back to when they almost took the one from the hotel room. Gold notices that she’s getting nostalgic and thinks she’s keeping something from him about his son. Emma sends Henry into the other room when Gold starts yelling and threatening her, and it looks like things are going to get violent when Neal shows up. He says he came back to protect Emma. Gold and Neal argue and Emma tries to get Neal to calm down, but accidentally calls him Neal and Gold realizes they know each other. And then all hell breaks loose when Henry enters. Emma tries to get him back in the other room, and, of course, this is one of the few times Henry decides to call Emma, mom, and then she tries to not let Henry answer when Neal asks for his age, but all is for naught because Neal figures out that Henry is his son. Emma doesn’t deny it this time, and you can see the anguish in her face when she makes the decision to let Neal know Henry is her son. Henry is mad because Emma lied to him. She says she’d hoped to never see him again, that he wasn’t a good guy, and that he broke her heart. She does not mention the fact that he framed her and put her in jail. She says she was thinking of herself and not Henry. Henry accuses her of being like Regina. Whoa! Emma is nothing like Regina. Protecting Henry from the asshole who ruined her life is one thing, manipulating and making you think you’re crazy is something else entirely. Emma doesn’t even try to defend herself, she just apologizes to Henry and then goes to get Neal when Henry says he wants to meet him. Neal gets mad because Emma wasn’t going to mention him and Emma doesn’t deny it. Seriously, why would she tell Neal about Henry? He framed her and got her put in jail! Then he gets all high and mighty about how she can’t make all the decisions because Henry’s his kid too. Emma’s done and just tells him to go talk to Henry. Emma tells him not to break his heart like he did with her. Neal doesn’t like that she called him out on that, again, but says they shouldn’t try to mess up their kid like they’re messed up. Too late. Emma watches forlornly out the window as Henry and Neal talk. I just feel so horrible for Emma at this moment. She’s finally got her family and then Neal comes out of the woodwork to mess it all up. Because we all know he’s going to mess it all up.

Regina/Cora/Hook: Meanwhile, back in Storybrooke, these three idiots are trying to find Gold’s dagger. Cora is playing the ever doting mother to Regina (and has gotten a new Storybrooke makeover in the process, and she looks so much better in modern clothing and her hair down). Regina is upset because Emma took Henry out of Storybrooke without telling her. Cora placates her by telling her Henry will be back soon, but Regina says he still won’t be with her. Hook comes in and hears that Gold is out of Storybrooke. Regina doesn’t know where he is, but Hook immediately goes into planning mode that if he’s out of Storybrooke he’s powerless and can be killed. You can just see his mind working. It’s glorious! Cora and Regina remind him that they would lose their magic too, but Hook doesn’t have magic so it’s of no consequence to him. Regina berates him about just going up and stabbing him. Hook would rather use his hook, but he hasn’t been able to find it since leaving the hospital. Cora would rather Hook stay and help them look for the Dark One dagger which can kill him in Storybrooke. Regina goes to visit Belle in the hospital to see if she has any info, but with the amnesia she’s no help, so Regina puts her to sleep. And then, instead of rifling through Belle’s purse like a normal person, she levitates everything inside until she finds a library book number written on a notecard. Regina, Cora, and Hook go looking in the library. Cora is impressed how Regina deduced where the dagger, or something that could lead them to the dagger, might be. They don’t find the book, but there is a crudely drawn map. How lucky for them that they have a pirate who can decipher maps with them. Except, when he does decipher it, Cora decides that he can’t help them anymore and knocks him out. Regina asks Cora if this is why she’s really here, to get the dagger and become the Dark One. Cora says that if they control Gold then they can make him kill the Charmings and Emma and then Henry will be all Regina’s and no one can blame them. Regina smiles at this and finds this an acceptable plan. Just, ugh! Regina is so much smarter than this. I guess without anyone in her corner (Henry, Sr.) she really just blindly follows whomever shows her the slightest hint of love, and totally bypasses all the warning signals that they are using her for their own gain. I wish I didn’t feel sorry for Regina, but she was trying to change in the first half of the season, so I really want to believe that would have continued if not for Cora. As for Hook, what does the dagger matter if you go with your original plan to kill Gold where he has no power? Get away from Cora and do what you need. I can live with just seeing Rumplestiltskin in flashbacks.

Milah: We get to see her actually in love with her husband. She’s worried for Rumplestiltskin when he gets drafted to go to war. He’s adamant that this will help him not be known as the son of a coward anymore and Milah tells him that he can’t always live in his father’s shadow. She has so much faith in him, it’s scary. She tells him to go and fight honorably and when he gets back they can start their family. Little does she know she’s already pregnant. When Rumplestiltskin arrives home, Milah’s already had the baby (he’s probably 2-3 months old) and she’s disgusted by what her husband did to get out of fighting. Rumplestiltskin insists that he did it to ensure he got home to his family, but she’d rather him died and be known as a hero than him injuring himself like a coward. For someone who was so much in love with her husband before he left, she turns on him pretty quickly. Now we see the Milah we were introduced to in The Crocodile. She’s not a happy camper that she’s now saddled to town coward, because that is what he’s now become in her’s and the town’s eyes.

Questions:

How many Ogres Wars have there been? We see one in this episode, there was another that Bae was supposed to fight in during Desperate Souls (could possibly be the same war), Belle’s kingdom made a deal with Rumplestiltskin in Skin Deep to help stop the war. That could also be the same war that Snow dealt with as she mentions to Charming that the Ogres were back in The Outsider. Has there always been an Ogres War happening or do they just happen every generation?

We’re all pretty clear that Cora has come back for the Dark One dagger and not Regina, right?

I thought the favor that Emma was doing for Gold was helping him find his son in NYC? Now it’s getting his son to talk to him as well?

In Broken Neal entered the apartment wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. What kind of trouble is he in that he still has a briefcase type job?

Why did Neal consider himself in hiding from his father? As far as he knew it was the last bean left. Why did he think his father would come after him?

All August had to show Neal was a paper with “I know you’re Baelfire” written on it? That’s what made him frame Emma and send her to jail?

How did August find out Neal was Baelfire in the first place? It’s not like he can do internet research and find a connection between the two? How did he know about Baelfire in the first place?

Why is Rumplestiltskin the only soldier not wearing a chainmail hood? I’m assuming it’s so we recognize him, but it just looks odd that he’s the only one not wearing one.

Would Emma have told Henry about Neal if he hadn’t shown up at the apartment?

I get that Cora and Hook wouldn’t know how to look up books in a library, but should Regina have that knowledge ingrained in her head from the curse?

Why would the duke send saddles made of the finest leather to the battlefield where most people are ending up injured or dead and the horses most likely to run off with the saddles still on them?

Why does Gold think there’s something up with Emma and the dreamcatcher? They literally just used one to look at Pongo’s memories like a week ago.

Was Neal waiting for the right moment to come into his apartment? It seems pretty convenient that he came in right when Gold was threatening Emma.

How does one try to abandon their child? It seems pretty clear that Rumplestiltskin’s father did abandon him as he was raised by spinsters.

Did Gold remember the undoing prophecy when Emma said they were bringing Henry with them to find his son? Did he think he was going to kill Henry before they set out on their trip?

What does ‘his undoing’ mean? Is Henry going to bring about Gold’s death? Will he release him from being the Dark One?

Observations:

Milah’s dress is the same color blue as the dress Rumplestiltskin later dresses Belle in when she’s his maid.

Hook still seems to be in pretty bad shape (considering it’s still a day or two after the accident), but Greg is walking around as if he didn’t just have chest surgery and has been discharged from the hospital.

Neal lives in apartment 407.

I know when I’m stuck in a hospital, I must make sure to have my false lashes on and mascaraed, like Belle.

When Belle asks Regina if they were friends Regina responds that they spent some time together. Yeah, she had you locked away for about 30 years total between the Enchanted Forest and Storybrooke.

Gold knows how to pick a lock.

David’s lines about how Gold can’t be Henry’s grandfather because he is and how Thanksgiving would suck are hilarious.

Greg decides to stay in Storybrooke and has managed to record Regina doing magic.

Cora calls the dagger the Kris Dagger.

We already knew that the Blue Fairy had inadvertently given Rumplestiltskin the idea for a curse in The Return, but now we know where he got the idea for moving everyone in the land with it.

Timeline:

Ok, so I don’t think this has been established in the show quite yet, but when Rumplestiltskin and Bae’s timeline is in the show has now come into question. In Tallahassee I guesstimated Neal’s age at around 23. But this is impossible if he and Rumple come from the same timeline as Snow and Charming and everyone else. If Bae went through the portal to the Land Without Magic and immediately went on living his life, he’d be much older than 23 when he met Emma. Rumple was putting the events of Snow and Charming getting together and Regina casting the curse for years, which would mean Neal would have had to have been in his 30’s or 40’s (or even older) by the time he met Emma in Portland if he’d come directly from the portal. But I’m thinking he didn’t. He would have had to have gone somewhere else first where he either didn’t age or aged slower. He also says to Gold that he has seen him letting him go in the portal for more years than he can know. Hmm, any thoughts on where that might have been?

Great episode! Emma finally got to confront Neal about what he did, but she’s also discovered that he’s Gold’s son, which means he’s from the Enchanted Forest as well. Which means what exactly? I don’t know. Will Neal come back to Storybrooke now that he knows about Henry? Will they try some sort of custody agreement? How will Regina react to all this. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled that Gold somehow procured her his own grandson to raise. I just hope that Emma doesn’t go back to Neal now that’s he’s going to be some kind of fixture in her life, because he is bad news. Don’t go for the guy who put you in jail Emma, no matter how he spins it.

Please leave comments and reblog! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future reviews.

@searchingwardrobes @thisonesatellite @justbecauseyoubelievesomething @laschatzi @profdanglaisstuff @mariakov81

#once upon a time #once upon a time review #once upon a time rewatch #once upon a time 2x14 #once upon a time manhattan

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nymphl · 5 years ago

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In the General’s Bed - Regency!Hux x Reader - Ch. 6 - To resent a General

A/N - Hello, sweethearts! Here’s chapter 6 of ITGB. This chapter has a lemony scene, a bit more detailed then the others in this story xD I hope you like this chapter, it’s one of my fav, even more because it entails a bit of shift in this story and what I’m planning for future chapters xD Anyways, thanks for leaving notes and reblogging. I appreciate your feedback very much.

Story Summary: The General is cornered… Upon returning from a successful campaign in Battle of Waterloo, Armitage Hux knows he has no excuses left; he must produce the much-needed heir. The problem is, when the two of you parted five years ago, it was not in the best of terms. Now, he may not find his wife, you, so willing as he first expected, nor keen on taking part in any of his political games. [Hux x Reader – Hux x You – Regency AU].

Warnings for the entire story: Will contain at times; graphic violence, sex, drugs and manipulation, coarse language and OOCness.

AO3 Tags: Regency Era; Alternate Universe; Alternate Story; Alternate Universe - Historical; Arranged Marriage; Politics; War; Napoleonic Wars; England - 1815; Married Couple; OOCness; Smut

Wordcount: 7898

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

“THREE… TWO… ONE… THERE YOU GO, LITTLE LORD.”

You smiled as Lux positioned his chubby hands over the piano keys and played the brief song you had just taught him. He was a smart kid and learned fast. Part of you would rather if he did not catch onto things so quickly, as to delay his imminent parting as much as possible.

“Well done,” you said, before pressing your lips lightly to his forehead. You knew Rae Sloane was watching everything with her attentive eyes as she read a book in the nearby ottoman. “Well done.”

As he continued to play, you let yourself think of Hux’s words. Of his whispered confession last night.

My damned father made sure I will only have access to the total sum of my inheritance only when I have an heir of my own.

You remembered you reacted with a loud What? and that you told yourself there was nothing to be surprised about. Brendol Hux would do anything in his power to undermine his own son — flesh, blood… those were notions the previous General did not give a damn about. If he could jeopardize Armitage’s standing, he certainly would.

The very thought made you bit your bottom lip in anger. You did not know which father was worse, if yours — with his prejudice and blatant disregard of women — or Brendol — with his dubious character and… well, you could also say blatant disregard of women and his own flesh and blood.

There were days in which you were grateful for having barely interacted with the man himself. And in most of them, you pitied Hux for having had to put up with him for almost three decades.

Bad character aside, Brendol’s actions posed a problem for both of you. Armitage had the money, he just could not use it until…

You sighed.

And recalled Rae’s own words to you.

…give him a damned heir…

Well, it seemed now you had no other choice. It was either give him a damned heir or watch him making a deal with Lady Carise — the devil herself. Borrowing money from a banker was completely out of the picture.

“Mama… Mama!”

You were startled as Lux’s voice reached you. He had placed both of his tiny hands on your face, directing your attention to him. The piano keys — his recent fixation — completely forgotten.

“I am terribly sorry, Little Lord. I am…” You stopped yourself before you could lie. Rae cast a glance at you from her book, eyes narrowed. “Very much distracted today.”

He nodded, but his face hid nothing of his disappointment. You chewed your bottom lip; overcome with guilty, but feeling your mind racing with possibilities all the same. You had to find a way to get you out of this situation — to repay for his… understanding. To name it as kindness would be a bit too much.

The fact is… Hux had a meeting with his investors today — one in which he would be accompanied by Lord Mitaka — and only God could know what their reaction would be as soon as they knew how little profit the Arkanis Brewery would give them in the next few months — it is, if Hux found a way to pay for his debts. You admitted that in such devastating scenario, the was the fastest and safest way to get out of this predicament, without leading him to compromise his candidacy for Prime Minister, would be to accept Lady Carise’s money.

Nevertheless, you would have no way out if you did not get pregnant soon. Well, needless to say you were trying, but there had to be something else — something faster and precise — that could be done.

With a defeated sigh, you messed his ginger hair. He ran his fingers through his tresses and stared at you with a scowl — to which you did your best to muffle your laughter. He was just too adorable when he was mad!

“Mama! And Lord Hux?”

“What about Lord Hux, Little Lord?” You pressed a lovingly kiss to his cherub cheeks and watched with amusement as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. He was indeed mad at you.

Rae Sloane cast a glance at you; one that showed that in spite of her disapproval of Lux’s inappropriate behavior, she was still at least a bit amused with his frustration.

“The violin, Mama!”

Ah yes…

He had been talking excitedly for a good few minutes — a few days now — about Hux’s violin — you were still trying to wrap your head around the fact Lux had actually seen his uncle playing the instrument. It had been years since you last saw him near it — and you barely heard anything he said.

You sighed.

“I know you want to play violin, but listen to me, I myself don’t know how to play it and I’m not sure Lord Hux has the time to teach you.”

His face fell.

It was obvious he had developed some sense of… admiration to your husband. He worshiped him — honestly, Lux was a very lonely child and he had the tendency of looking up to anyone who paid him a measly few minutes of attention.

You left the bench and kneeled in front of him, adjusting his clothes and bringing him closer to you by his waistcoat.

“But I can keep teaching you how to play the piano.”

He smiled. Begrudgingly, but he did.

“Now?”

You were ready to answer the both of you should get ready to have lunch and later — after you got some well needed time to send a message to your contact in The Times — you could teach him a thing or two about the piano, but you were interrupted by the sound of someone opening the door of the drawing room.

Looking up, you were surprised to see your husband crossing the threshold. The boy beamed up as he saw Hux and he quickly left your embrace to run towards his new idol.

You rolled your eyes.

“I want your violin.”

“Lux Dameron!” Rae admonished him; her voice was harsh and hid nothing of her disapproval. “That’s no proper way to ask for anything.”

He lowered his head, ashamed and muttering a small, feeble apology. You could barely hear him saying I’m sorry, Lord Hux.

Armitage, however, did not seem to mind the boy’s lack of etiquette. Blue eyes focused on you — and the intensity of his stare made you shiver; it felt as if he could read your thoughts and what you were planning… or thinking about planning… —, he dismissed Lux’s apology, “I’ll teach you how to play it one of these days.”

Lux looked up at him with adoration in his chestnut eyes. Your husband was doing a hell of good job of turning the boy against you and Rae. Firstly, he promised to teach him how to ride a horse and now… he promised violin lessons.

With a sharp intake of breath, Rae fixed her dark eyes on him, making Lux hide behind Hux’s long legs.

“Really?”

Hux nodded, dismissing Rae’s stare as if it meant nothing. You wondered how many times she terrorized him in his childhood — and how many times she did not act on those stares, if Hux treated it so lightly. “Now, you must go with Lady Rae and get ready for lunch.”

“Yes!”

He was so excited at the prospect of spending more time with Hux, he paid Rae little to no attention — a fatal mistake if your memory did not fail you; Rae would probably ground him for the entire week and only you knew how terrible Lux’s mood got whenever he was banned from visiting the stables and his beloved friend horses, but at the moment, he did not seem to even remember how devilish Lady Sloane could be.

Accepting her hand, he followed her out of the drawing room humming to a childish song. You were ready to trail after them, when you felt your husband’s hand enclosing around your wrist.

“I never allowed you to leave, Lady Hux.”

A happy sigh left you as he brought your body closer to his and his lips fell upon yours in a slow, seductive kiss. He entangled his fingers in your hair — and if he did not know how to drive you mad with want, you would have scolded him for undoing your perfect hairdo — and angled your head for his better pleasure; his tongue running enticingly over the rim of your lips.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, and then slowly sliding them into his ginger locks — you almost expected him to trap your hands between his, but this time he did not seem to mind a disheveled appearance —, you gladly let him in, stroking your own tongue boldly against his.

He let you go after what seemed a good few minutes and pressed a kiss to your temples. You fought to reign in your breathing as he lowered his forehead to yours.

“I know what you’re thinking…” You wetted your lips nervously. “He isn’t a Dameron and you dislike seeing him being addressed as such.”

There was a minute of silence as you caressed his face.

“No. He isn’t,” he replied as he put some space between the two of you.

A tired sigh left your lips.

You could have pointed out he could never be a Hux — not if he wanted to become Prime Minister in the near future — and that he once hated his family name, but you understood what he meant. After Brendol passed away, the name Hux gained a new face: his — and later on yours —, and with it a new blank chapter; one he was willing to write differently, for the sake of his new family. And Lux is family.

Part of you wondered if the desire to recognize Lux as family came from the desire to right his father’s — and yours too — wrongs. If not for you and Rae, his fate would be… probably worse than Hux’s.

However, you both knew that if anyone just dreamed about Lux being his nephew and your little brother it would be the end of his aspirations. Your standing in the town would be compromised and no sane King would approve of him as the Head of the Parliament. And that position meant a great deal to Hux.

You walked to him, until you invaded his personal space.

“Would you rather if he were your son?” you whispered against his lips, but as soon as the words were out, you realized how stupid that question was.

He chose silence.

You swallowed.

“How did it go?” you said, trying to change the topic and get some control over the situation. “What did the board say?”

It was all it took for him to break apart. Again.

You pursed your lips, trying not to let his actions get to you so easily. It was obvious he did not like to be further inquired on his meeting with his investors. It must have gone horribly if he was so against talking about it. That… or he did not like to talk about business at all.

Part of you understood where he came from. Most husbands did not talk to their wives about… Well, they simply did not talk. Most wives were there just for the show. Very few of them ran their estates and even fewer understood about business and politics. Even if they were interested in such topics, it was expected of them to shy away from them. Except for the Ton politics, noble ladies… Wealthy families, it is… they did not — should not — waste their precious time with the intricacies of business and income… They just… spent money as if there was no tomorrow and in case they lost it, well… they simply gained it back through marriages.

An accomplished lady knew about dancing, playing the piano, embroidery… but never about income and basic taxation. And the few men who understood the intricacies of the business world, probably came from the lower classes, working class, as Armitage’s family did. Your father, for one, knew nothing of business. He ran his estate with the same regard he showed your mother: which is to say, almost none. When he realized he spent all his wealth on courtesans back in London, he decided to regain it at the gambling table.

But you were no trophy wife. You refused to be. You would not back down. Sitting beside him on the setee, you took his hand between yours. Slowly, you traced the gold band on his finger.

“What did they say, Armitage?”

He narrowed his eyes at you; a clear warning. You should tread carefully when looking for answers, pressing him would not do. You rolled your eyes. You were not scared in the least.

“We’re not having this conversation, Lady Hux.”

You snorted.

“Well then, Lord Hux, perhaps you’d like to tell me what you’ll tell Lady Sindian.”

He inhaled sharply at your words.

“Or you’re not having this conversation with me either?”

“Careful, Lady Hux.”

You knew you were playing with fire, but you were not about to back down. Not now. Not ever. You told him you were in this for real — you told him that if he wanted to be Prime Minister, he would need you and you stood by that. If he wanted to get out of this debt, he would have to start trusting you.

If he thought you would not understand about his business, the least he could do is to tell you about how he would approach Lady Sindian. He would have to be smarter than her with his excuses — a simply refusal would not do.

You knew and he knew Lady Carise was dying to get back at your family — at you — for years now. If not having you pressing your father to let you marry Armitage, she probably would be your stepmother now… A Marquise. Having Lord Hux owing her a large sum of money seemed the right way to go. It did not seem to you she would let such matter go that easily. Unless… Unless she had something else in mind to use against the two of you. Something bigger. Something better.

That’s why he would have to be smooth. Lady Carise was not just any woman. Just like you, she did not bow to other men — she did not take no for answer.

You were ready to inquire him further, when you felt him bringing your wrist to his mouth. Your heart quickened as got a brief taste of your skin. A gasp left you as he pulled you to him, forcing you to straddle his hips. His lips quickly found yours in a searing kiss. You knew what he was doing and even though you thoroughly disliked it, you would let him have his secrets.

For now.

You woke up later with a strong headache.

There was no need to look for Hux’s watch-pocket to know it was late afternoon — he had left you spent, and you slept more than you usually did whenever you took an afternoon nap — and that you had gone by without lunch once more. No wonder your head felt like exploding, yet you felt no hungrier than before. To your surprise, he was still by your side. But, this time, instead of relief, you were disappointed.

You left the comfort of his arms and rolled on your back.

“Ugh… Why is it so clear? And who’s playing Schubert?”

As expected, there was no reply from his part. There was no need to. In spite of Rae’s misgivings about the piano, she was quite proficient at it. She put many of the accomplished ladies of the Ton to shame with her skills — after five years living with you and seeing you practice, she became quite fond of the instrument, even though she would not admit it.

Since the two of you disappeared to your chambers before lunch, you imagined she would take it upon herself to keep Lux busy and out of your hair. By now, you thought the poor boy was probably sleeping in the setee, while Rae played to her heart’s content.

You closed your eyes — as if it could relieve the pain and ease the guilt —, but they quickly snapped open when Armitage moved over you, his nose touching yours and his breath caressing your face.

He kissed you.

Slowly.

Sweetly.

A mere brush of lips.

“You worry too much.”

With a gasp, you let him in, stroking your own tongue against his. He let you dominate it — dominate him —, not caring once more that you had slid your hands between his ginger locks. His fingers traveled the extension of your legs lightly, prying them open, so he could slide between them. He did not stop until he reached your hips, applying the slightest of pressures.

The kiss did not last long. He let go of your lips and moved downwards, placing open-mouthed kisses on every inch of exposed skin. Your breath grew heavier as he paid thorough attention to your throat at the same time his hands traveled upwards, in a quest for your breasts.

“We’ll be late for dinner.”

He paid little no regard to what you said. And in spite of what you said, you, too, could not care less about your lateness. Even the melancholic sound of the piano downstairs did not deter you from your quest for the astounding heights of pleasure you could reach together. A moan left you as you tried to move your hips, seeking the much-needed friction. He was so hard, and you were… so ready to take him, you moved your hand from his shoulders and tried to reach his cock… Just to have your wrists trapped. You grunted in disappointment, but he merely lowered his head to your chest and pressed light kisses to the undersides of your breasts. Quite but never touching you were you needed most.

“I won’t beg.”

His lips tilted in the shadow of a knowing smirk.

A gasp escaped you as he placed a small kiss over your nipples. First, on the right breast and then the left. He did not take his time to worship them, however. He kept on lowering his kisses, going past your ribcages, your belly, your navel, till he reached your hipbone.

You pressed your lids together, waiting anxiously for what was to come. For a man who did not enjoy small talk, he surely knew how to put his mouth to better uses than to those of meaningless discourse.

Squirming in his hold, you tried to get your hands free — to fist the sheets, to grab onto his hair —, but he did not allow you to. His lips ghosted over the insides of your thighs — it was so light you could barely feel it. You arched your back, lifting your hips — offering yourself to him. He ran the tip of his tongue over your clit.

“Yes! Gods, yes!”

With a smirk, he drew away. His lips glistening with your wetness. You bit your own bottom lip, frustrated beyond measure.

“You won’t have me begging.”

He ran his lips over your left calf, letting go of your wrists — to which you checked for marks and thanked the old-fashioned use of gloves; the General had a penchant for leaving you marked. With his left hand he held your leg close to his mouth and lazily pumped himself with his right hand.

You inhaled sharply at the sight. It was indeed a feast to the eyes. Armitage knew how to please your every sense — vision, hearing, smell, taste, touch… none was left unattended for too long.

“Touch yourself.”

You bit your bottom lip, unsure. It is not to say that in the five years you were apart, you never sought to pleasure yourself — but to have him watching you was completely different. The intensity in his eyes made you warm all over. Your lids fluttered closed as you reached down, tracing your own thighs, approaching your center very slowly… outlining your lips… testing your wetness… quite but not entering yourself, as you knew he wanted.

“Look at me,” he whispered against your calf; his lips were almost on your knees, kissing the underside of it. “Keep your eyes open. I want to see them when you come.”

His words had you breathing deeply through your nose.

You opened your eyes, looking at his face and then sliding down… to the path of ginger hair leading to his engorged, beautiful shaft… Your mouth watered — you moaned — at the sight of precum oozing from his head.

Under his attentive gaze, you slid one finger inside of you and then a second; the heel of your hand applied a sweet pleasure to your clit. More than once, you thought about closing your eyes — the intensity in his blue orbs too much for you —, but as you lost yourself to the growing pleasure, you realized you could not shift your attention from how he stroked his shaft, timing it to the rhythm of the music. The feel of his lips, inching closer and closer to your center forced you to keep your eyes wide open and focused on him.

As the piece of music reached a crescendo — and you could swear you would never be able to play or listen to Schubert without reliving this very afternoon —, so did his movements — and yours too. Your breath grew heavier, beads of sweat pooled in the valley of your breasts, sliding down your skin. You were close and he knew it.

Armitage lowered himself on the bed and placed one of your legs over his shoulders; your hands were put aside. His heavenly mouth ghosted over your clit, his warm breath making you clench around nothing. This time, the thought of not begging flew off your mind as you uttered a broken please.

With a smug smirk, he took your clit between his lips, sliding two of his fingers inside you. Losing no time, he looked for that sweet spot that would have you singing for him as he worked you towards an earth-shattering orgasm.

As it hit you — just a marvelous, indescribable feeling that had you arching your back off the bed and your eyes filling with unshed tears —, you sought his hair — to keep him in place or to pull him apart; you were so sensitive you thought you could not take any more stimulation —, instead, you felt the fingers of his left hand entwining with yours as he continued to lap at you; allowing you to ride your orgasm fully.

The piece came to a diminuendo and so did the movement of his fingers and his tongue against you, until they completely stopped. A deep, contented sigh left you as you looked at him through half lidded eyes. Your legs were trembling; you were so weak you thought that if not for being laid over the mattress you would fall on your knees — exactly like last time when he ate you out against the door of his study. The mere remembrance made your face hot.

With the final notes, he entered you without warning.

Both of you gasped.

He took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth — letting you taste yourself. Part of you expected him to give you a moment to adjust to his size or at least to recuperate from the last orgasm. Instead, he set a punishing rhythm against your hips.

It did not hurt — and even if it did, you learned how to find pleasure in a bit of pain — but you were so sensible, the second wave of pleasure found you without voice. Your nails punctured his flesh as he sought his own release.

He was so worked up, it did not take him long to abandon the timed strokes. His mouth was against your throat, and broken moans and grunts escaped through his opened lips. You brought his hand to your breasts and he kneaded the pearls between his fingers, with his right hand he stroked your clit in a circular movement, to the point you were sobbing.

As your second orgasm came to an end, his own started. He pressed a kiss to your breasts, and you pulled onto his hair till a grimace of pain took over his features — exactly like he enjoyed. He grunted your name; his eyes fell closed as his hips jerked forward one last time.

It felt like ages had gone by as he emptied himself inside you. His lips worshipped the column of your throat and his hand travelled over your thighs in a slow, sensual caress as you both tried to recover.

His breath became normal before yours. He kept on placing small open-mouthed kisses to your glistening skin, whispering words you could not understand — or care less. Your eyes were heavy, and you were so tired all you wanted was to doze off at least a bit. He softened still inside of you, but you were so comfortable in such position, you did not want him to move an inch.

He did not.

“You should get ready.” He captured your lips lightly. You sighed happily. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

“Thank you, my love,” you whispered against his mouth. You pressed a light kiss to his lips, but he did not kiss you back. Your words had him drawing apart — it was impossible not to be aware that it was all because you addressed him in a novelettish manner.

Armitage slid out of you and sat on his side of the bed.

You bit your bottom lip.

He stared ahead. His mind, however, was distant. You closed your eyes, running your hands over your face, as if it would just erase what you just said; you heavily regretted your form of endearment.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

His impossibly blue eyes snapped back to you. He breathed deeply through his nose.

“Think not of it. My mind is just busy.”

His words — so detached — coupled with his facial expression — so perfectly schooled —, made you flinch. You bit your bottom lip, realizing what you did not want to acknowledge before: whenever the two of you made love, his heart was not into it. He enjoyed the physical act to its fullest — he ensured you did too —, but like he said… his mind — and heart — was elsewhere.

You chewed the inside of your cheek and sat on the bed, wrapping the sheets wrapped around your body. You seized the moment to introduce a topic you were dying to discuss with him a while ago.

“We should sell the estate in Southampton.”

His answer came quicker than you expected; his voice firm — not loud or authoritative, “Absolutely not.”

Coupled with how still his body went, you quickly understood he did not want to talk further about the topic. It did not mean you would concede defeat so easily, though.

“Please.”

You sought his fingers. He caught your wrist, running his thumb over your palm. He brought it to his lips, bestowing upon your knuckles a small kiss.

Biting your bottom lip, you focused your attention on his face. The slight tilt of his lips indicated he knew what he was doing to you and what exactly were your thoughts concerning it.

You snatched your hand away, focusing on the present issue. You spent a great deal of the afternoon being distracted — fooled — by him. You dismissed it before, letting him have his way with you, but now, you could not avoid the politics and the sensitive topics concerning his imminent bankruptcy.

“Hear me out.”

“My answer is final, Lady Hux.”

The fact that he did not call you by your name indicated he really did not — and would not — want to discuss such topic any further. Your shoulders slumped, but you did not concede defeat. Not so quickly.

“That’s my house and therefore my decision to make.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line. It was obvious he was getting tired of it. Getting tired of your insistence — it was clear he was not in the least inclined to share a few things with you. His business was one of them.

And honestly, he was not wrong. Actually, he was — but not legally speaking. According to British law, you were his property to do as he pleased and talking or not about business as his decision to make. Selling your house was his decision to make — not yours.

How you hated being a woman most of times!

“Armitage.”

“(Y/N)”.

You rolled your eyes. He was going to make this hard for you — he could be very difficult when he wanted to. Displeased, you watched as he rose from the bed and slipped inside his robe. Shoulders down, your mind raced with possible arguments as you waited for him to go fetch his cigar and a glass of brandy.

It was needless to ask for him to pour some for yourself. As you were trying to conceive, anything alcoholic was out of the picture. And yet, you could feel your mouth watering at the mere thought of the amber liquid running down your throat.

After a few minutes went by, it became strikingly obvious he chose not to return to the bedroom. You slipped inside your robe, already sure he would admonish you for leaving the bed — the family’s physician had recommended for you to lie down after the two of you engaged in sexual relations; according to him, it would increase the chances of fertilization. Rae had rolled her eyes at the suggestion, but you were not one to disobey doctor’s orders that easily when there was so much at stake.

However…

This was an entirely different situation.

You were no expert when it came to finances, but after managing your father’s estate for five years, it was crystal clear the situation at the brewery was quite complicated — and it was you putting it mildly. He needed money — a large sum of it — and although a pregnancy and an heir would solve the problem easier than making a deal with Lady Carise, you were not so naïve as to think you would get pregnant that quick.

For that, you would have to count on luck and that was not something either could afford right now. That’s why you should convince him to sell your summer manor. That was the fastest way to solve the money problem without recurring to Lady Carise and her… less than adequate intentions towards your husband.

The mere thought of the woman made your entire body shudder.

You did not trust the her. You never did. Not even when she was to marry your father and become your stepmother. Something about her smelled fishy. And, God, it was in no way jealousy.

There was just something about her… that simply did not sit well with you.

And when your guts told you to stay away from something or someone... You would rather pay attention to it.

You dismissed such thoughts as you tightened the knot at your waist and ran your fingers through your messed hair — in case you met a servant in your way. Nevertheless, there was no need to go that far, for he was in the anteroom. Back turned to you, he exhaled the smoke, before bringing the cigar back to his lips.

Carefully, you approached him, encircling your arms around his waist. He stilled in your embrace but did not move away from you. With a relieved sigh, you tightened your hold and leaned your forehead against his back.

For a moment, all you could hear was the cadenced beating of his heart. It was calm and so very comforting. He placed his cigar in the cinder-box and entwined his hand with yours. It did not take him long to turn around in your embrace and face you.

“We’re not selling the Southampton manor, (Y/N).”

You could have asked why, but you were too tired for that. Suddenly, all you wanted as to get some sleep and forget that disastrous afternoon — dinner be damned. Aside the fact he could tell you he had a monetary problem — more likely he did not have a choice to begin with — it was obvious he did not want you having a part in solving it.

“I refuse to be the kind of husband that relies on his wife’s heritage to solve his problems.”

You snorted, ready to pretend you did not hear that. Or ready to ask him how it could be so different to borrow Lady Carise’s money, but not yours. After five years living only with Rae Sloane — a remarkably independent woman — and Lux — and a few servants, of course, but they would not meddle in how you decided to run the house or your life — it was easy to forget how men behaved and how societal expectations weighed heavily on their shoulders. Truth is, Rae taught how much free a woman can be making her own decisions and you were not ready to give up on that.

Instead, you settled on, “I don’t want that heritage. It has brought me nothing but pain.” You realized your mistake as soon as he broke away from you, but now… Now you could not back down. You looked at him, at his impossibly blue eyes as you continued, “The happiest moments I have in that house are related to Lux.” And Rae, of course. But that was a given. Honestly, even if there were happier memories from the house, it was not something you could so selfishly hold onto in times of need. And this very situation configured as such, in your opinion. You just had to make Hux see that.

He nodded…

…and you breathed slowly…

…relieved…

He was finally seeing things your way.

“The manor in Southampton is not to be sold. That’s final.”

Oh, dear God!

With that, he brought the cigar back to his lips, his eyes focused on the quickly darkening sky outside. “Now, go get ready. I’ll wait you downstairs.”

Seething with anger, you bit your bottom lip, but decided not to give him the answer you desperately wanted. He was right, you should get ready. You should leave his presence and stay alone for a while, least you wanted to end up killing him.

“Like this, Mama?”

You pressed a small kiss to Lux’s forehead and nodded. You were a bit distracted, but more focused on him than that morning.

“Yes, exactly like this, Little Lord.” A small smile blossomed on your lips as you ran your fingers through his ginger hair. He was very enthusiastic about you having dinner with him and later keeping him company as he played the piano. You dismissed his tutoress, giving her an earlier respite.

Part of you — the childish part — was dying to know how Hux reacted to your absence. Even though the Lady of the House could indulge in the luxury of having breakfast in her chambers, dinner was an entirely different story. And part of you — the part that was trying to behave like the grown woman you were — just wanted some peace and the opportunity to sort your thoughts.

Spending some time with Lux gave you exactly what you were looking for. Not to mention, you felt bad for neglecting him during a great deal of the last few days.

“Promise me that if you ever get married, you will listen to your partner.”

He stopped playing and removed his chubby hands from the keys. He looked at you with a confused face, as if he had no idea what you were talking about — and how could he? Lux was just four — sometimes it was easy to forget.

“Never mind.” You placed both of his hands back on the keys and instructed, “Keep going, you’re doing great!”

Lux beamed up at your words — a genuine smile curving his lips and highlighting his dimples. You felt tempted to pinch his cheeks, but you knew he would get mad at you. And he was doing so well, you did not want to distract him right now.

“Rae is no fun,” he commented when he got bored of the melody you were teaching him.

You smiled once more.

Yes.

He was right.

Rae is no fun.

“Adults are no fun,” you commented, placing both hands on the piano and inventing another melody just so he could copy you and thus you could extend your time together — even though it was way past his bedtime.

“No! You are fun, Mama!” His vehemence made you laugh a little.

“Lord Hux would probably say I’m no adult at all.”

And with your recent behavior, you could say he was right. And as soon as he knew what you did, he would be even sure of it. You bit your bottom lip, expecting him to chew you alive next day when he read the newspaper tomorrow morning.

No.

You did the right thing.

If he was not willing to see things your way, you just had to force him to. You had done it before, and it worked. There was no way it would not work now.

“You should not speak for myself.”

Both you and Lux looked up to see the figure of your husband leaning against the threshold. He unfolded his arms and approached you in a few, firm strides.

“Lord Hux!” Lux exclaimed, shifting on his seat. He moved closer to you, giving space for Armitage to sit beside him.

“Lord Hux,” you acknowledged his presence with pursed lips. Not keen on talking to him in front of a small child — you still resented him for his behavior earlier —, you moved your fingers over the keys.

He seemed to think of it as an offer, for he, too, accompanied you in the music. After years of watching him playing his violin, you almost forgot how proficient he was at playing the piano.

Biting your bottom lip, you removed your fingers from the keys and rose to your feet. Still playing, Armitage looked at you with could almost pass as a surprised expression. You knew better.

“Let’s go, Lux,” you said, outstretching your hand. “It’s way past your bedtime.”

“But Mama—

“Lux!” You did not let him finish his plea. At some point, you knew you would give in. “Come.”

“But I don’t wanna go,” he pleaded again, his intense chestnut eyes shining with unshed tears. He looked at Armitage, trying to get him on his side.

You sighed.

“Leave him be,” Hux said in an even tone, even if firmly. “I’ll get him to bed later.”

“No.”

If he was not willing to share things with you, you would not share your authority over Lux. Besides your unwillingness to do as your husband said, it was very late, and Lux was tired. If he was irritated at the mere possibility of going to bed, it was because it was way past his time to sleep.

Rubbing his eyes, Lux climbed down the seat and walked to you, not taking your hand, but not completely dismissing it either. As soon as you opened the door, you spotted the governess walking down the corridor.

She stopped as she saw you and subconsciously adjusted her clothes. If you were not so mad at Hux, you would probably have smiled at her gesture.

“May I help you, Your Ladyship?”

You shook your head, but your husband was behind you, a hand on your shoulder as he forced you to step back to his arms. His hand over yours prevented you from breaking apart.

“Take Lux to his room.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she replied, offering Lux a hand. The boy quickly took it, casting a final glance at both of you. “Come, Lord Lux.”

As the two of them disappeared in the dim lighted corridor, you stepped away from Hux’s embrace.

“If you kindly excuse me.”

Before you could even leave the room, he had closed the door and pressed you against it. You inhaled sharply but refused to look at him over your shoulder.

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

His imperative tone made you snap. You shifted in his embrace and raised your chin, “Why should I talk to you when you don’t show the same consideration to me?”

He did not reply, not immediately. With the back of his hand, he traced your jawline and with his thumb he traced your bottom lip.

“I hate you.”

“I thought we were past that,” he replied lowering his face to yours. As soon as you felt his breath so close to your mouth, you turned your face away from him, letting his lips brush your cheeks.

“We have never been past that.” You moved from under his arms and put some distance between the two of you. He was ready to follow you when you said, “Don’t touch me without my permission.”

He stopped immediately, his hands falling to his sides.

You looked away, your eyes full of unshed tears.

“I thought we were on talking terms now, but it seems I was mistaken.” You drew in a sharp breath. Pressing your fingers firmly against the fabric of your dress, you raised your chin again, “A word of advice, Lord Hux, if you want to convince the King to appoint you as Prime Minister—

His snort made you stop momentarily. However, there were a few things to be said, and be damned his unwillingness to hear them.

“If you want to be Prime Minister,” you repeated; your eyes narrowed at him. “You should start talking to your wife. Your opponents will constantly do their best to put us against each other and I can’t simply take your side every time if I don’t know what’s going on through your head.”

He approached in purposeful strides. He forced you to release the fabric of your dress and placed both of your hands on his shoulders.

“They will undoubtedly do that,” he said, running his thumb over your cheeks. “And for your and Lux’s sake, you should be ready to turn on me if the time comes.”

You furrowed your brows.

What was he talking about?

“A word of advice, Lady Hux.” He mimicked you, running his thumb over your bottom lip to prevent you from biting it. “Perhaps you should watch whom you make alliances with. Perhaps siding with His Highness won’t bring the expected results.”

Your eyed widened.

“It’s treason.”

He broke apart.

“It’s only treason if I get caught.”

You followed him, your mouth agape. That was a dangerous game — this one he was playing. When you reached him, you put your hand on his face, forcing him to look at you.

“Armitage, hear me out, if you get caught—” You shook your head and lowered your voice. “No. When you get caught, you’ll be hanged.”

He kissed the inside of your hand.

“That’s why you’ll have to make them believe you knew nothing.”

You shook your head.

He was not listening to you.

He was not fucking listening to you.

“There was no meeting this morning with the board, right? You met with the Prince.”

He shrugged.

“The Kings is dying.”

“He isn’t dead yet,” you retorted. “Your personal interests should not interfere with those of the Crown. Listen, I know you want to become Prime Minister, but betraying your King will nev—

He snorted.

…and pulled your head back by your hair, exposing your throat to his lips.

“You don’t fool me, Lady Hux.” He brought his lips to yours. “You pretend your loyalty lies with the King, but I know you want this as much as I do.”

“Yes.” You replied breathless. “I want it, but I am being reasonable here while you are not. You’re loyal to no one, but yourself!”

Placing both hands on his shoulders, you tried to force him to break apart. His hand wrapped around your neck, applying the slightest of pressures to your windpipe.

“Yes… You’re right. I’m loyal only to myself.” He kissed the corner of your lips. “But what about you, Lady Hux? Where your loyalty lies?”

“With—

“Think carefully about your answer.” Your answer had his fingers tightening around your throat — not to the point of hurting you.

You wetted your lips.

“With the Crown, obviously.”

“Why?”

He pried his fingers open a little bit, allowing you to draw in a breath and reply — you were not so sure he would not like to hear it, “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

You bit your bottom lip, relieved that he seemed pleased with your answer. You thought about going on differently about it, but you knew he was talking hypothetically — just in case he was caught in his own game, something he did not plan on happening.

“Exactly, Lady Hux.” He kissed your throat softly. Next, his lips were upon yours in a brief — so very sweet — kiss. After it was over, he pressed his forehead to yours.

“You shouldn’t have to ask it. You know my loyalty lies with you. Because I lo—” You closed your eyes and drew in a breath. It was time you were honest, not only with him, but with yourself. “Because without you I can’t get what I want.”

“And what do you want, Lady Hux?”

Looking into his eyes, you replied, “Power.”

You loved Hux — you really did —, but you also loved the many possibilities a relationship with him represented. Knowing that he coveted — and could possibly be chosen — the position of Prime Minister opened a lot of those possibilities for you. You knew that without him, you would never reach a position of power — at least, not one like this.

“I want power.”

This time, his lips fell upon yours passionately. His hands slithered to your waist as he brought your body closer to his. You gasped, giving him the chance to slide his tongue over yours and deepen the kiss. He walked you back, till you met with the piano bench. He made you sit down, kneeling before you.

Biting your bottom lip, you drew in a sharp breath. He kissed your throat, his hand slithering under your dress to caress your thighs. You watched in awe as he removed your shoes and then your stockings. You knew that as soon as he touched your undergarments, he would find them dripping wet.

“Tell me what you want, Lady Hux.”

You allowed him to remove the offending article of clothing that kept his glorious fingers from you. Arching your back, you offered more of yourself to him.

“You. I want you.”

He removed his lips from your throat and shook his head. His fingers — oh, so close — stopped their caress over your sensible, burning skin.

That was not the answer he wanted to hear.

You drew in a breath…

…and wetted your lips.

“I want power.”

It was all it took to have his fingers caressing you in the way he knew you needed it and to have his lips falling upon yours in an overpowering kiss.

“And you shall have it. Power suits you.”

A/N - And that’s all for today. I’m still working on my stories. I hope you forgive me for taking so much time between updates.

#in the general's bed #in the generals bed #itgb #hux x reader #hux x you #armitage hux #general hux #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #general hux x you #general hux x reader #star wars regency story #regency story #sequels #fanfic #fanfiction

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darkvalkyrie6 · 5 years ago

Text

Hydra

Picture: illustration Kerby Rosanes (my coloring book Mythomorphia)

Don’t let the title fool you.

————————————————–

Axel was sitting on a chair in the examination room in his house, wearing only his pants and his boots. The same chair he sat every evening for the last thousand evenings. Elisabet was standing in front of him looking at the damage on his face from this days fight. His nose was broken, again. She grabbed his head with one hand and his nose with the other.

"Ouch! That hurts!" Axel said with an expression of pain on his face and a smile in his eyes.

"That joke’s getting old." Elisabet said examining the damage.

Axel laughed and blood started gushing out of his nose. He laughed even harder seeing the annoyed look on Elisabets face.

"Stop laughing. You are getting blood all over me. Stay still and let me do my job." Elisabet pulled his nose and snapped it into place. "Better? Can you breathe?" She asked him.

Axel took a few deep breaths and said. "Yea. It's better. I can breathe."

Elisabet took some cotton wool and put it up into his nostrils. "Put some pressure on the top of your nose and let this soak up the blood."

Axel watched Elisabet wash the blood off her hands. He saw that she turned her head towards Axel and that she was looking at his torso, at all of his old scars, all of the new bruises and cuts from todays fight. By the look on her face, he knew this night was one of those sleepless nights, fixing the mess from the fight. He should have brought more ammo.

"Where did they hit you and with what?" Elisabet asked.

Axel scratched his head thinking. "Let me see. There was a guy with a bat. He hit me in the ribs once, the second time I stopped him with my arm. One of them hit me in the face, hence the nose, and I think he hit me in the jaw. One came behind me, while I was beating the shit out of the guy with the bat, and hit me on the head. I don't know what it was. The rest was just a normal fist fighting."

Elisabet sighted. "How many times did I tell you to avoid hits to the head?" She looked at him with disappointment on her face.

"What do you want me to do Elisabet? There were a few dozen of them and they had guns. I used up all of my ammo and grenades. After there were still a few of them alive. Should I have gone over to them and said: I just killed a bunch of your friends back there and I ran out of ammo so I'll have to beat you to death. Please don't hit me on the head while I'm beating you to death? That's not how it works Elisabet." Axel said with an annoyed voice removing the cotton wool from his nose.

"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying that you should be more careful." Elisabet said walking towards him. "I'm doing my best to keep you in one piece. Since you have been wearing the Dragon armor, your injuries went down by eighty percent. So why don't you want the Dragon armor for your head? Head injuries are the most dangerous."

Axel put his head into his palm. "We talked about this. The Dragon armor limits my peripheral vision and my hearing. That's not a good thing in a fight. The shield on my arm is enough protection for my head from bullets and weapons for now." Axel looked up at her. For him, the talk about the Dragon armor for his head was over.

"Yeah… Yeah… I'm not going to pick that hornet's nest again. Come with me. Let me scan you to see if there are any serious injuries from the fight." Elisabet opened the 3D medical scanning bed and Axel laid down on his back on the bed. Elisabet started the scan and an arm over the bed began to scan Axel’s body. After the scan finished Axel got up and a 3D scan of his body appeared hovering over the bed.

"Let’s see the organs first." Elisabet used the tablet in her hand and the 3D image displayed Axel’s organs. "Good. No internal bleeding. No damage to the brain. Looks like my formula for stronger bones is working. Let's see the bones." She used the tablet again and the 3D image showed Axel's bones with four red arias pulsating. "You have two cracked ribs, not broken, just cracked, a crack in a bone in your hand and a broken tooth. I can fix the tooth. For the ribs and arm, I'll give you my new formula for healing. This time you don't have any broken knuckles, that's an improvement and no injuries on your feet. The new boots are working."

Axel looked at Elisabet. She looked like she was watching at a guinea pig she's doing her mad scientist experiments on.

They met ten years ago. He was looking for a specific type of person, a doctor interested in research to make a human body more durable, his bones stronger and thicker, his wounds heal quicker and his reflexes faster. Using his connections, he found about Elisabet. She was a doctor but she didn't want to work at a hospital, she wanted to do her own research. She believed there was a way to make the human body more durable, resistant to disease, stronger an even prolong the human lifespan. The only problem was that she was in debt and couldn't find funding for her research, research that he was interested in.

He approached her and told her that he'll pay off her debt and will fund her research with a few conditions. That she lives in his house, only works for him as a doctor, does her research at his house and doesn't talk about him or the things he does to anyone. She was suspicious at first but she agreed and for the last ten years, she was working for him. Axel transformed a part of his house into a laboratory for her research and a part into a hospital like examination and operation rooms with the best equipment.

“Let’s see the rest...” Elisabet used the tablet in her hand again and the 3D image displayed Axel veins, the ruptured veins where the bruises were, muscles and tendons. “No stretched muscles, no broken tendons, but a lot of ruptured veins. The formula for strengthening the muscle tissue is working but the one for veins isn’t. Hmm… The bruise around the cracked ribs is from the bat, that's to be expected. But the other bruises are they also from the bat?”

“No, I killed the bastard with the bat first. The other three guys didn’t have weapons. They just hit me with their hands, elbows, knees and feet. It was a standard fight.” Axel said trying to remember if he missed something. “Maybe it’s from when I hit the floor or from them pushing me against the wall.” He said.

“I’m still working on improving the formula for the cardiovascular system. I think I know how to make it work better.” Axel had a feeling Elisabet was talking more to herself than to him. “Go sit in the chair so I can stitch your wounds and take these pills for the healing.”

Axel wasn’t in the mood to argue so he took the pills and sat down in the chair. As Elisabet was stitching his wounds his mind was somewhere far away. He looked through the door of the examination room towards the main hall of the house. On the wall was a painting of his mother and father. This was the only painting in the whole house. The painting was old, the oil started to dry crack, but he still kept it hanging on the wall. This was not like him, he wasn’t a sentimental person, but his mother died of cancer shortly after he was born and this painting was the only thing that portrayed his mother holding him in her arms smiling. He tore down and put in storage all the other paintings and pictures that depicted his father after he found out what his father had done.

After his father was killed, Axel, as the sole heir, inherited all the family fortune and the family business. He never questioned his father's way of doing business and investing money, he concentrated on his own passion, technology and space travel. Space always fascinated him and he vowed that one day he would travel there. When he took over his father’s role, he took over his business. At first glance, it looked like his father was involved in the import and export business around the world. Shipping cars, clothes, coffee, tea and other miscellaneous goods from South America, Mexico, Russia, Ukraine, China and the Middle East, but something didn’t seem right. The amount of money he received for those kind of shipments was too much. Goods like that weren't worth that much on the market these days. When he dug deeper, he found out the ugly truth. His father was in the import and export business, but the illegal kind, he was in the import and export business of drugs, weapons and human trafficking and that’s how he made billions of dollars.

Axel didn't know what to do. He had to do something, he had to stop doing business with the people his father was involved with. He stopped and sold all the ships his father was using for his import and export business and decided to buy shares of companies engaged in technology, software, space exploration, medicine, medical research and charity. This way, supporting these companies and giving money to charities he could do something good for all of humanity and at least undo some of the damage his father did. He didn’t think that the people that his father did business with would come knocking on his door threatening him to continue doing business with them as his father did. The first time this happened Axel came home and heard noises coming from upstairs. He followed the noise and saw a bunch of shady people in his father's office. They grabbed him, sat him down in his father's chair and threatened him that if he doesn’t continue working for their boss their next visit won't be so gentle. One of the lackeys punched him in the gut as a warning and they left.

After that first incident, Axel started getting more and more threats. One drug lord sent his lackeys after him, and they beat him up so badly that he went to the emergency room. He didn’t go to the emergency room because he was in pain, he went because after seeing the damage they did he was worried that they may have caused serious injuries to his internal organs, brain or bones. He didn’t know if he was injured because he couldn’t feel pain, he was born with a rare genetic disorder, the Riley-Day Syndrome that left him insensitive to pain. Though a painless life sounds great in theory, it doesn’t work so well in practice. Pain is actually your friend. It sends signals to your brain to let you know when something needs fixing or when your bones are broken or your organs damaged. In the emergency room, they asked him what happened and he said a car hit him. He had several broken ribs, a broken forearm, broken leg, cracked skull, internal bleeding, broken knuckles and a few broken fingers. Everyone at the emergency room looked at him bewildered at how the man even walked with injuries as severe as that.

After he healed he started thinking about his options. One option was to continue to wait for the men, his father was in business with, to come after him again and defend himself. He had an advantage, he didn’t feel pain, he was rich and could technically buy an army of guards. However, he knew that drug cartels, illegal arms dealers, and human traffickers had a sea of armies and lackeys of their own and that at one point no matter how many people he hired to protect him there will always be more of the other guys. The other option was to stop these men from threatening him ever again. Not just to go after the heads, the drug lords, the heads of the illegal arms trade and human trafficking, because if you cut off a hydra's head, another one will just take its place. You have to start by cutting the hydra’s feet off and work your way up until you cut off all the pieces. He had his father's business book, he knew the names of the people he was dealing with, he just had to dig deeper and find out the rest of the people that were involved.

He made a plan. For a year, he took weapons and military training from an ex-special forces marine. He hired a private army for his home security, that kept the thugs away from him, and he found Elisabet. She was the final piece of the puzzle. Her research made his bones stronger and denser, his muscles more durable, and his reflexes faster. The ex-special forces marine gave him the idea to make Dragon armor. Dragon armor was a bullet-proof armor, cowering his whole body, with discs overlapping like scale armor, it was lightweight and flexible, composed of high tensile strength ceramic discs encased in a fiberglass textile, which meant that in a fight he didn’t have to worry about being easily injured like before. Dragon armor, enhanced body and the inability to feel pain gave him the advantage he needed to make things right. He used his money to bribe people and gather information and names of all the people involved in the illegal business and he made a list of targets.

As the years went by the list got shorter and shorter and his body was covered in more and more scars.

“I’m done.” Elisabet said. “You are free to go but take a day or two off so the ribs and the arm can heal.” She threw away the blood-covered gauze and put bandages over the freshly stitched wounds.

“Yes mom.” Axel said looking at her with a sneer.

Elisabet threw a box of rubber gloves at him. “Told you not to call me that!”

He left the room laughing. Leaving Elisabet to her research.

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

The next few days,Axel should have spent resting and healing,he spent working out. He didn’t feel any pain and thought it a waste of time just to sit around doing nothing, and planning how to get the right hand and his lackeys of one of the cartel bosses. This one was a challenge. He always had a group of heavily armed bodyguards with him, courtesy of his brother the cartel boss, and a dozen of lackeys at every location he visited. ‘There has to be a way to get him, his bodyguards and all of his lackeys at one location at the same time.’ The problem was that the lackeys were the distributors of the drugs and each location cowered one part of the city, the right hand was the one that brought the drugs to them, as far as Axel knew there was never a time all of them gathered at the same place. Hitting every location separately was not an option, word about an attack would spread out to fast and they would just send more men after him.

Axel already crippled this cartel boss' organization, he killed around a hundred of his men, including his left hand, his youngest brother. Axel watched the funeral from afar and now that gave him an idea. He researched if the cartel boss had any parents or grandparents alive. A funeral of a family member of a cartel boss would mean that most of the cartel members would be at the same location at the same time. If you have money you have unlimited resources and unlimited access to information. Axel called his informant in the DEA department and asked him to look up if the cartel boss had any living family except his younger brother, the right hand. As it turned out, he did. The cartel boss has an older sister that is currently in jail, for laundering money and selling drugs, and will be released in two weeks. That was all the information he needed. Seems like the whole family was in the drug business.

A plan formed in his head…

For two weeks, Axel watched the locations the right hand visited and counted the number of his lackeys. He also went to the cartel boss' house and counted the bodyguards and the lackeys. One night he entered the cartel bosses office and took photos of a notebook on his desk. The text in the notebook was written in code, but an easy one. A lot of the text was crossed out, but some of it was newly written. At home, he decoded the text. It contained names and locations. Almost all of the names where on his list, only four were new but the location, next to the names, wasn't. The crossed out names were the names of those he killed, there were only sixty names not crossed out. His sister’s name wasn’t in the notebook but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t involved in the family business. Two more days and she will be released from jail.

The day came. Axel was sitting in his car across the street watching the cartel boss pick up his sister from the jail. As they drove away, Axel followed, keeping his distance, he knew the way to the cartel boss' house, where they were probably going. He followed them just in case they didn’t go to the house but went off somewhere else. Axel was right, they drove straight to the house. He couldn’t get to her in there, he would have to wait for her to leave the house and find an opportunity to kill her and make it look like an accident so they don’t suspect foul play.

For the next few days, Axel practically camped on the roof of the building across the street of the house, waiting for the sister to get out. After four days, he saw her leaving with two bodyguards. ‘That's not going to be a problem. I’ve dealt with worse situations.’ This was his opportunity and he wasn’t going to miss it. Whenever Axel left the house he always took his gun, silencer, rope, zip ties, injection kit with injections to make someone fall asleep, paralyzed, and an injection of adrenalin if somebody tries to mess with him.

Axel quickly ran down the stairs and out of the building on the street. He saw a truck on the road waiting for the light to turn green. He ran towards the truck, opened the passenger door and used the sleep injection on the driver. The truck driver fell asleep, he took over and started to drive in the direction the sister of the cartel boss was going. He accelerated and, at the last moment, turned the wheel towards the sister and the bodyguards so they didn’t have enough time to get out of the way. At the last second, he opened the driver's door and jumped out.

Later, at home, Axel watched the news report saying that the truck driver fell asleep at the wheel and killed three people, a young woman and two men. Axel was sitting on the couch, smiling from ear to ear, so concentrated at the news report he didn't notice Elisabet standing beside the couch, watching him.

“Did you have something to do with that?” She asked him with a disapproving look on her face.

Axel turned his head towards her, still smiling “At least this time I didn’t get hit on the head.”

“I can’t believe you. You’re planning something again, aren’t you? You just killed three people.” Elisabet shrugged her shoulders “When are you going to stop?”

“When they stop trying to kill me! And I’m going to need at least ten sleeping injections.” Axel said.

“When I finish my research and perfect the formulas, then nothing will be able to kill you. Not even me when you’re behaving like this. If you need supplies you know where to find me.” Elisabet said with a hint of annoyance in her voice and went to the lab.

Axel remembered the day he killed someone for the first time. It was one of the other cartel’s members, not this one, he almost threw up after he killed for the first time. He felt sick for a week, panicked that the police would come for him, and arrest him for murder, but nothing happened. No one came to avenge the death of the one he killed and no police came to arrest him. After that, with every new kill, killing came easier to him. Obviously, humans can get used to anything, even killing.

‘The investigation should take a few days, then the funeral arrangements another couple of days. They will hold the wake at the cartel boss' house but they won’t leave it empty. They will leave a few guards at the house and probably one person at each location.’ Axel started to finalize the plan in his head. Everything was falling into place.

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

On the day of the funeral, Axel was leaning against the wall of the building across the street of the cartel boss’ house, a black bag on the floor next to his feet, waiting for them to leave for the funeral. Almost all of the cartel members were present. Not including the two dead bodyguards, there were six members missing, they were probably at the locations. The cartel members got into their cars and left for the funeral, they left eight guards and a few staff members behind to guard the house and prepare everything for the wake after the funeral.

Axel knew the house like the back of his hand. He sneaked in and while avoiding the guards placed the C4 and weapons in places no one would look for. He sneaked out unnoticed and left for the locations to kill the members six remaining members of the cartel who were left to guard them. He killed one after another as quickly as possible and returned to the house.

After taking care of the locations, he came back and saw they have not yet returned from the funeral. That was good. Axel had enough time to go back into the house and position and arm the C4 where it would do the most damage. This time he sneaked into the house with the intention to half the number of guards so it seems like everything was all right, but so that he has four less guards to worry about. Axel used his sleeping injection to put the first guard to sleep, dragged him into the bathroom, locked the door and strangled him, leaving the water in the sink running. He got out through the window and went straight towards his next target, the only guard on the second floor. Using the same injection, Axel came behind him, injected the sleeping mixture into his neck and dragged his body towards one of the rooms. He locked the door, strangled him and exited through the window. The next two guards suffered the same fate and while doing this Axel put blocks of C4 under the staircase, under the tables with the food and drinks, into the bathrooms, into the main hall, most places you would expect the people attending the wake to be.

At strategic places around the house, Axel hid weapons like guns and shotguns so if anybody survives the explosion, this time, he would have enough guns and ammo to kill them without the need to beat them to death. Axel came prepared, there was no way he could kill sixty people with his bare hands, even with his inability to feel pain and the Dragon armor. After he finished all the preparations, he hid on the second floor, in the cartel bosses office, left the window and the door ajar, crouched near the door, listened and waited for the cartel members to return.

Fifteen minutes later the cars started to enter the carpark of the house and the cartel members started to enter the house. This process took around ten minutes because of the large number of people. The longer it took, the greater the chance that someone noticed a missing guard or a planted C4 brick, but it seemed that the cartel members were too preoccupied with the funeral, alcohol and food to notice any foul play.

As soon as everyone was in the house, near the places the C4 would do the most damage when it detonated, Axel put earplugs in his ears, closed the door to the office and pressed the detonation button. The whole house shook as 30 bricks of C4 detonated on the first floor. ‘If anyone survived that I’ll shake his hand before I kill him.’ Axel thought to himself, took out the earplugs and put on a gas mask.

Still crouching near the door, he took out his two guns, stood up, opened the door and went looking for survivors. The house was a mess, the staircase was gone so he decided to search for survivors on the second floor first. He checked every room on the floor and found one woman hiding in a corner frightened. He asked what her name is. She answered. Her name was on the list so he shot her in the head. With every bathroom, room, closet, space under the bed and a possible hiding space cheeked on the second floor, he returned to the place where the staircase once was.

Axel jumped down to the first floor. There were bodies everywhere, for some, you could tell they were dead because they were missing a head or they were split in two, but for some, you couldn’t. For those who Axel couldn’t tell if they were killed by the explosion, he shot them in the head, better safe than sorry. He did the same as on the second floor. He checked every possible hiding space, including the refrigerator and freezer and all the bodies, he couldn’t determine if they were killed by the explosion, he shot in the head. He knew he didn’t have much time. The police would be here any second. While he was checking the rooms, he counted the bodies. The final count was fifty-five. With the six guarding the locations that made sixty-one, sixty from the notebook and one for the cartel boss. He collected the weapons he hid, put them in a bag, returned to the main hall, looked at the cartel boss one last time and emptied his whole gun magazine into the his face.

There were police sirens in the distance and they were getting closer fast so Axel took a grenade of off his belt and threw it into the surveillance room where all the camera footage and surveillance tapes of the house were stored. The grenade destroyed all trace of him ever being here. Axel left the house through a hidden exit the cartel boss used to smuggle stuff in and out of or to leave and return to the house so the DEA surveillance wouldn't notice. He put on clothes over the Dragon armor and went home, throwing the guns, he shot the cartel members with, into the river. ‘One more hydra down. That leaves me with four more to go.’

The past ten years he took down four drug cartels, two weapon smuggler gangs and one human trafficking ring closest to home. This was the last drug cartel his father did business with. That left two weapon smugglers, one from China, the other from the Middle East and two human trafficking rings. They were harder to get rid of because Axel had to use his contacts from here, from America and from Interpol. It was harder to get all the names of the members. If he eliminated the ones here, they would just replace them with men from Russia, China or the Middle East.

During those last ten years, he never backed out from a challenge and he wasn’t going to start now. A grin appeared on his face as he was walking home, a bag full of weapons in his hand, a plan was already starting to form in his mind...

The end

————————————————–

Riley-Day Syndrome, that the main character has, is also known as Familial Dysautonomia; and it’s a disorder that is genetically inherited. To actually show signs of having the condition, however, the relevant gene has to be passed on by both parents. Basically, Riley-Day syndrome affects the autonomous nervous system. While there are many extremely unpleasant symptoms, it does also have some arguably cool features. Chief among these is the fact that many people with the condition are almost entirely insensitive to pain. Of course, though a painless life sounds great in theory, it doesn’t work so well in practice. Pain is actually your friend; it sends signals to your brain to let you know when something needs fixing—so to go without it all together isn’t necessarily going to be a pleasant experience. Especially if a bunch of drug cartels, weapon smugglers and human traffickers are out to get you.

#tw death #tw violence #tw graphic violence #tw killing #tw murder #thriller #action

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centeris2 · 6 years ago

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Scott was surprised by a knocking at his door. His friends and lovers had generally been good about giving him space, only bothering him to let him know food had been made. He couldn’t smell anything like food, what could they have made that didn’t smell?

He opened the door regardless, surprised to see Rebecca looking down at the ground, shoulders hunched in on herself. Why did she look so guilty?

“Scott, you’re gonna be mad at me. Promise me you’ll only yell at me for a few minutes?” she asked, glancing up at him.

“Why would I be mad at you?” he asked, confused.

“Trust me, you’re gonna be mad. And you can be mad at me for as long as you want, just only yell at me for a little bit, okay? Promise?”

“What did you do?”

“Promise?” she pleaded, looking up at him with big, blue, begging eyes.

“Fine, I’ll only yell at your for… I dunno, five minutes. I promise. Now-” to his surprise she whipped out her phone and set a timer for five minutes, handing it to him.

“Okay, so…” she sighed and took a deep breath, mouth moving for a moment before she sighed again, shoulders slumping.

“What happened?” Scott asked, trying to encourage her to continue.

“I… uh… well um… the good news… um. I…” she stammered, blushing and looking at her feet and shuffling.

He didn’t say anything, waiting for her to tell him.

“Ikindofreverseagedyourdadandnowhe’slike30yearsoldagain don’t hate me!” she said in a rush, Scott blinking and only getting a few of those words.

“What?”

“I-” she hiccuped, Scott surprised by tears in her eyes when she looked up at him, sheepishly, “I didn’t know! I don’t know how! I thought I was just healing Valdemar but then he started glowing and now he’s like 30 years old again! I don’t know!”

“You what!?” Scott shouted, feeling guilty immediately as Rebecca winced.

“I don’t know! I was just healing him from his stroke damage-”

“You were healing him!? Why would you do that?!”

“He said he would disinherit Junior, I didn’t realize-”

“He’s a monster! Why- how could you be so stupid as to trust him! He’s always scheming and planning!”

“I didn’t know-”

“Of course you didn’t know! You don’t think! You just rush into things you don’t understand consequences be damned! And why would you ever want to help him? Who gives a fuck if Junior inherits shit? Let him have everything!”

“Well he is disinherited now…”

“So what!? If Father really is young again he’ll just have more kids he’ll groom into monsters! Is that what you wanted?!”

“I wanted to ease an old man’s pain-”

“He deserves any pain he gets! He’s a fucking monster! A sadistic, cruel, evil, monster!”

“Has it been five minutes yet?” Rebecca murmured, shrinking more when Scott groaned and threw up his hands.

“Fuck if I know! I didn’t start the timer!” he snarled before shoving the phone back to her, “now who knows what he’ll do! Fuck, if he knows about magic… actual magic… what else can he do?”

“He won’t come after you,” Rebecca muttered, starting the timer.

“Oh really? Why not?”

“Part of the deal was he give you the money to live comfortably-”

“Oh for fucks- seriously? What, are you going to say you did all this for me?”

“It seemed like a good deal, he feels better in his last years, you get money to live away from him, and Junior gets disowned.”

“Oh that’s a GREAT deal! How could that possibly go wrong!? I wonder how someone who is basically the devil could possibly twist that around!”

“I know…” Rebecca sighed, “we need to get you out of Jorvik.”

“What? Now you’re worried about me?!”

“He doesn’t need to pay for you if you are dead,” Rebecca pointed out, watching the timer on her phone.

“Oh fuck…” Scott groaned, but he wasn’t screaming anymore, “and Junior is going to have it out for me as well…”

“I’m so sorry, I just wanted to help…” Rebecca sniffled, rubbing her nose.

“Fuck,” Scott muttered, hating to see her cry, “Becca…”

“I’m so stupid!” Rebecca hissed, rubbing away tears.

“You didn’t know, you don’t know him like I do. I didn’t even know he knew about magic!” he said, much quieter now, feeling awful for yelling at her and blaming her.

“I should have known it was a trick somehow!”

“How were you supposed to know he could somehow use you to make himself young again?”

“I don’t know but I should have! Somehow!” she sniffled and rubbed her nose again, “he said it was an old family recipe missing an ingredient?”

“Huh?” that made Scott confused, he had never heard of anything like that.

“I guess he never talked about it?” she glanced up, curious.

“No, although, there are all those family history books… I read them when I was- oh fuck,” Scott hissed and put his hand over his eyes, groaning, “fuck fuck FUCK!”

“What?”

“The Buttergoods have been on Jorvik for centuries, there were all sorts of stories in those old books about magic and potions, fuck!” Scott moved past Rebecca into the main room so he could pace and think out loud, “I thought it was just fantasy stuff, you know, dramatic tales and family legends to make our ancestors look better. But maybe… with you guys… fuck, it may have been true.”

“What sort of stories?” Rebecca asked, following him and sitting down to watch him pace.

“Autobiographies basically, stories about battles and how much power so-and-so gained in their lifetime and how awesome they were, magic and witches and werewolves and all sorts of things. God… if half of those spells and potions actually work…”

“But if they did, wouldn’t he have used them already?” Rebecca asked, grabbing a tissue from a box on the coffee table to clean up her face.

“Maybe he can’t use magic, but you don’t need magic to use potions…”

“He said there was a missing ingredient, and I supplied it, any idea what he may have used? If we can figure out what it was, we may be able to undo it…”

“Fuck if I know, I read all those books so long ago… I don’t remember much in terms of details.”

“So, we need to find the recipe, or find someone who knows it, there has to be someone who knows it. And we know at least one of the ingredients, and what it does, kind of anyway. We know I somehow supplied an ingredient, and we know it returned him to a youthful state.”

“Fuck…” Scott groaned and sat down next to Rebecca, head in his hands, “I… fuck…”

“I am sorry.”

“I know. You just… you don’t know… you didn’t know… I was so happy after he had his stroke because… because he wasn’t so scary. He couldn’t hurt me as much, now…”

“I am so sorry,” Rebecca said again, feeling awful.

“Bobby.”

“What?”

“We need to get Bobby out of there. If I’m not there to… to take it…” Rebecca hesitated, afraid to touch Scott. He still didn’t like when people touched him, but she wanted to comfort him. She closed her hand and withdrew, not wanting to make it worse.

“You took the brunt of the abuse?” she asked quietly, glancing at him to watch his reaction. He nodded and swallowed, looking away.

“You’re very gooey.”

“‘Gooey’?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes, you’re basically a marshmallow under that mean scowl,” she said with a hint of a smile before it faded, “it’s just sad how your kindness shows.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here I am telling you to get the fuck out before Valdemar can kill you so he doesn’t have to honor the deal, and you’re worried about Bobby. And that’s not something being friends with me did, you just proved it.”

Scott snorted and looked away.

“No, I’m being serious, you said so yourself, you took the abuse to protect Bobby, didn’t you?”

Scott didn’t say anything, looking down at his hands.

“You’re a good person, Scott, I think you always were.”

“Fuck, Becca,” he choked a laugh, looking up and away and blinking rapidly, blushing a bit, surprised by how much that meant to him, “I’m not-”

“Oh yes you are, you are good and kind and very sweet,” Rebecca said with a smile, refraining from touching him despite how much she wanted to.

“You’re just trying to butter-” he choked and Rebecca snorted a laugh.

“Puns, ehh?”

“I didn’t mean-! You’re just trying to flatter me!”

“No no, I’m buttering you up. Got a knife and I am laying it on thick!” she teased now before a thought occurred to her, “why do I get the feeling you’d be into knife play?”

“Becca…” he said slowly before he smirked, “is there a mare around?”

“No!” Rebecca blushed, “that’s not why I thought of it! I just… did!”

“Oh really? No mares in heat making your stallion go crazy?” he teased, thrilled by her blush.

“No! None today at least… stop laughing! It’s very inconvenient!” she whined as his grin turned from chuckling into full blown laughter at her expression.

“You try being soul bound to a stallion and see how well you do!” she complained.

“The others don’t have that problem,” he pointed out.

“Fine! You try being empathetically soul bound to a stallion!”

“I’ll get right on that,” he snorted, wiping his eyes, amused by how she was pouting with her bottom lip stuck out and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Guess I really am a big meanie,” he teased.

“You are the marshmallowest meanie there is,” she pouted and stuck her tongue out at him, “there isn’t a mean bone in your body. At most you got like, a mean muscle somewhere. A small one. Probably one of the tiny ones in a hand.”

“You keep that tongue in your mouth, missy,” he mock ordered.

In response she stuck it out again with a childish, “mleh! Bleh bleh bleeeeh!” and blew her tongue at him.

“Oh sorry!” she apologized immediately when she got spit on him, “I didn’t mean to be gross!”

“Oh no, cooties, whatever will I do?” he snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Cooties are very contagious,” she informed him seriously.

“The world health organization will have to quarantine this building then,” he joked. She was glad he was relaxed and smiling.

“I really am sorry, and I will figure out how to fix it,” she said seriously. Scott sighed and rolled his eyes.

“You really know how to kill a mood,” he complained.

“There was a mood?”

“You were sticking your tongue out of course there was a mood!”

“Oh, I thought, you, well, weren’t ready for physical contact,” she admitted, scratching the back of her head as she looked away.

“Well…” he didn’t finish his sentence, looking at her, his lips barely parted.

“You can restrain me if you would prefer, gives you more control,” she offered.

“That-” Scott’s phone buzzed in his pocket, making the pair glance at his pants.

“Justin wants to know where I am,” Scott said after reading the text, confused.

“Bobby!” Rebecca remembered and jumped up, “I need to get him somewhere safe! You should stay here, you’ll be safe here!”

“But-”

“I promise I’ll get Bobby somewhere safe from your dad and Junior,” Rebecca promised.

“Let me find out why Justin is asking where I am before you go,” Scott requested, not liking how Rebecca grimaced.

“He probably saw your father,” she guessed, wincing.

“Why would…?”

“Tall, dark, and handsome runs in the family, and if Justin only saw him from a distance…” Rebecca didn’t want to admit how much Valdemar looked like Scott now.

“Good point,” Scott muttered, texting Justin back. Rebecca waited for Justin to reply.

“Yeah, I think you are right,” Scott informed her when Justin replied, “Justin said he saw someone riding around Butter Hill, but knew it wasn’t Junior or Bobby.”

“I’ll let you know when I’ve got Bobby somewhere safe,” Rebecca promised. If Valdemar was already roaming about he may have hurt Bobby already.

#sso #star stable #starstable #star stable online #starstableonline #fanfiction #My Work #My Writing

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watchmanis216 · 6 years ago

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Well, Spring is close and the fact is; the Fourth of July will be here as usual. With the USA in turmoil over it’s political division; there is a pertinate thing for all true Americans to remember. BE Sure you know what that is. -Editorial note

Here is a related post Fourth of July ‘I am American, I have roots, I am your Flag‘; Happy Independence day. America as we know it has ceased to exist in so many ways. Below are some quotes from those Americans who passed this way so long ago. Their wisdom and warnings are to be taken as truth. These quotes speak volume’s and shall do as my commentary and heartfelt warning to Americans everywhere. -WIBR/WARN Radio, The Watchman Dana G Smith, and Tower

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The complete Narcissistic fool and moron:

“As democracy is perfected, the office of President represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last and the White House will be occupied by a downright fool and complete narcissistic moron.”— H.L. Mencken, The Baltimore Evening Sun, July 26, 1920

Let the American youth forget our noble inheritance bought by those before us!

“Let the American youth never forget, that they possess a noble inheritance, bought by the toils, and sufferings, and blood of their ancestors; and capacity, if wisely improved, and faithfully guarded, of transmitting to their latest posterity all the substantial blessings of life, the peaceful enjoyment of liberty, property, religion, and independence.” –Joseph Story, Commentaries on the Constitution, 1833

America where the whole body of the people are armed

“Before a standing army can rule, the people must be disarmed; as they are in almost every kingdom of Europe. The supreme power in America cannot enforce unjust laws by the sword; because the whole body of the people are armed, and constitute a force superior to any band of regular troops that can be, on any pretence, raised in the United States.”–Noah Webster, An Examination of the Leading Principles of the Federal Constitution, 1787

The sweeping torrent of boundless ambition and the sapping current of corrupted morals

“The blessed Religion revealed in the word of God will remain an eternal and awful monument to prove that the best Institution may be abused by human depravity; and that they may even, in some instances be made subservient to the vilest purposes. Should, hereafter, those incited by the lust of power and prompted by the Supineness or venality of their Constituents, overleap the known barriers of this Constitution and violate the unalienable rights of humanity: it will only serve to shew, that no compact among men (however provident in its construction and sacred in its ratification) can be pronounced everlasting an inviolable, and if I may so express myself, that no Wall of words, that no mound of parchm[en]t can be so formed as to stand against the sweeping torrent of boundless ambition on the one side, aided by the sapping current of corrupted morals on the other.“–George Washington, fragments of the Draft First Inaugural Address, 1789

I have spoken, warned, cajoled, preached, taught, and then pondered all these things. In the midst of it all, I and my family are American’s living in America who is not America led by people that are not true Americans according to my understanding and definition. America today is more like the Roman Empire of old. It is revived now, living in this country at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.

The downright fool in the Presidency. While Democrats and hellywood push the notion of the fool being the current resident, I think that they should have understood we had one before. Obama brought in anti-American and anti-Christian agendas; sought to open the borders, and did much to alleviate a true free American from the grip of patriots. Today, Donald Trump has undone all of that and pushes ahead with an American agenda of restoral. Whether he truly gets it all done, History may not be kind to Donald Trump; but the truth will be revealed that he worked hard to make this nation great again.

Mencken in 1920 spoke of the downright fool in office, yet for this article and our present time; the fool has come and gone; the ones who put him there are mad as hell someone is in the office undoing the foolishness of liberal socialism pushed by Democrats and hellywood.

As H.L. Mencken of the Baltimore Evening Sun said on July 26th, 1920 one day the White House would be “occupied by a downright fool and complete narcissistic moron”, so be it! It has come to pass and the people of this nation voted him in. The people along with the resident of the White House have no clue to where they are going and being led into.

I do not celebrate America as it is today, but as it once was! Trump is trying to bring it back. He may not accomplish it, but he tried. We need more who want the America of the Greatness which it was. But as I write this, the Sins of this nation are great, due to policies that are pertinently illegal before God and before all decent moral people. The recent decision by New York to make Abortion legal up to birth is a case for going to far. The judgment of God will prove that this was a very bad idea for a nation to consider.

Murder is never okay, even if it is legalized!

Again, America on this Fourth of July

A Commentary in the Writers Pulse by Dana Glenn Smith “Life Expression in it’s simplest form is simply life in words” Dana Smith has written three books, and numerous E-books. He has written and published well over 10,000 articles in over 18 years on the WIBR/WARN sites.

Visit our website: www.danaglennsmith.com

———-

Never Forget: America on this Fourth of July Well, Spring is close and the fact is; the Fourth of July will be here as usual.

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italicwatches · 6 years ago

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[Legacy content] My Hero Academia - Episode 08

You know, I’m not so much mad that there was no sandwich bread in the house this morning. I’m mad that the mini donuts I had to get at the gas station instead for breakfast were so fucking shitty. …Anyways, it’s My Hero Academia, episode 08! Here we GO!

-We see, that scene we’ve seen so many times before. That time in the forest, between Katsuki and Izuku…And then…The Detroit SMASH, the one where Izuku tanked his opponent’s attack, to throw his teammate an opportunity to claim the victory. And Katsuki seeing, up close, what Izuku’s power, what taking that fire, did to his body. And then, seeing those eyes…That damned determination in the face of everything…

-As Izuku’s body shuts down…Katsuki’s brain basically cracks like a fuckin’ egg.

-Opening!

-And the hero team is declared victorious…As Izuku passes out, and Ochaco is fighting to keep lunch inside of her. (Also to Tenya’s credit, he breaks character immediately to help her out. You’re a good man, Tenya.) And everyone in the monitoring room is just staring, really seeing what this kind of thing means. The kind of stakes of even something like this…Izuku has to be carried out of there by robots. While Katsuki…Katsuki is really not taking things well. But it turns out I gave him far, far too much credit.

-See, I thought he was freaking out at the extent of Izuku’s injuries. I thought he was seeing the kind of injury that came out of his effort to be the big scary bully, and had his eyes opened to how he can’t fuck around like that anymore. A crisis of conscience as his heart grew three sizes that day. Hahaha nooooooo. This fucko just is freaking out because little Deku won through his head. And then as he’s in total freakout mode…That’s when All Might tries to calm him down, telling him to come back and see the results. Whether you win or lose, seeing what you can do to improve is an important part of life.

-Episode 08! Bakugo’s Start Line.

-And it’s in the monitoring room…Where All Might declares Tenya the MVP of the match! Who can tell him why he made this decision, hmm?

-It’s…Skimpy-outfit-girl, who figures it out. Tenya adjusted his plans actively and on the fly based on the actual goal he was given(that is, “protect the bomb”), doing his best to achieve his actual goal. He also took into context his opponents’ abilities, doing his best within time and circumstances to tilt the playing field in his favor by removing the miscellaneous debris that Ochaco could have used with her powers.

-Contrast Katsuki, who actively pursued Izuku over a personal grudge, using unwise and massively destructive techniques for the context…And then Izuku, while he did better, still ended up having to use an incredibly rash and unwise plan that left him completely out of commission. And then Ochaco let her guard down in the thick of things, and also made use of strategies that, quite frankly, only worked because it was an exercise. Her wild strategy to get to the bomb only worked because her goal was only to touch the bomb. Had she needed to, say, solve a puzzle to defuse it, she’d have been screwed.

-Tenya’s only mistake, in sharp contrast, was playing within the context of the training exercise’s fiction, as opposed to operating around the strictest, most game-like interpretation of the rules. …God DAMN, she caught everything. Meet Yaoyorozu Momo, one of four students who got in on recommendations alone…

-And now it’s time for the next groups to go at it! Keep in mind the specifics from this first exercise, whether you are in the field or monitoring from here. And so it’s Team B up on the hero side, and Team I on the villain side…Team I, which includes…

-Ah.

-An invisible girl.

-Who cannot make her clothes invisible.

-Well then.

-And it’s up! Bat-guy Shoji Mezo, with his arm wing things, starts by gathering extra data…And pins them both on the fourth floor. So his comrade, an ice man, steps up and starts to just freeze the building out…Where he’s able to lock down both villains, then just walk on in! It’s a bit of an overkill technique…But it also works. Especially because he undoes it as fast as it happened, melting all the ice and turning the place into a sauna. He’s Todoroki Shoto, one of the other four to get in on recommendation.

-So that was one quick match, as it’s soon review time…And Katsuki is losing his cool bit by bit.

-Then it’s the third match, where we see some of the odd tricks of Team J’s duo…When our bird man and frog girl of Team H go right in…And otherwise, it’s general quick flashes of power. These range from some of the classics like super strength or electricity, to odd things like a girl who can plug into the surface of the building and pull sounds…

-And when it’s all done, the tests are done, with only Izuku injured out of the lot. Which All Might is quite happy about, as now he has to go check up on the student and pass the results on to him. He shall see you all soon, children! And then he’s off in a flash…Already trying to figure out how he can help Katsuki from going over the edge…

-And then he’s got to race into the staff elevator, where he locks himself in just in time for his powers to fail. Fuuuuck…

-Commercial break!

-And we’re back! Recovery Girl is tearing into No Might for how this kid has been in here like three times in the first week…His body literally cannot take her healing powers this much. She had to just rapidly get him through the worst of it, and now he has to heal the rest by staying here overnight on an IV. Also, she knows the nature of One For All, as well as No Might and Izuku’s secrets. And thinks they’re both being utterly ridiculous. Because where she stands, of course, she doesn’t do the whole “acting like a symbol” thing. She tries to fix problems. That’s what she’s done ever since she was a plucky young thing back in the day. And if you’re going to be a symbol…You got to know what it means to guide this kid, to make him grow into someone great…Because in the way he’s going, he’s going to be a mess of scar tissue and pain meds before he’s old enough to drink.

-And eventually, Izuku comes to…And realizes it’s well in the evening by this point, as Recovery Girl decides he’s well enough to at least get home. Go home, rest in your own bed, and be back here first thing in the morning, young man.

-So Izuku heads back to the classroom to get his things, already expecting a talking-to from any number of teachers…But instead he finds like half the class has been there waiting for him, and they think he did awesome! You’re fuckin’ cool as hell, man! We get names, but I’m not keeping most of them in my head. I’m not not.

-And then Ochaco gets back and she sees the poor injured Izuku and you poor thing! But there’s only one thing that Izuku wants to know. Where’s Katsuki? He…Just went home a few minutes ago, as soon as he heard they were letting you out…

-So Izuku bolts, catching up to Katsuki out in front of the main campus…And Izuku…Reveals the nature of his Quirk. It was given to him by someone else. A hero saw what he did that day, with the slime thing that nearly killed them both…And chose Izuku to inherit power. He spent the entire last school year training his ass off just to be able to handle it…And he still barely can even survive using it. Everything that happened to day, was because he didn’t want to rely on that power he got from someone else, this power that tore his arm apart…

-But Katsuki doesn’t believe a word. He thinks Izuku is just fucking with him, that he’s been messing with him…And all Katsuki can think, is his fury. His rage, at having gone from the big fish in a small pond, to being in the fucking ocean, where the whales swim in the deep…And with tears in his eyes, with his rage turned inward more than anything else, Katsuki swears he’ll rise to the top again. He’ll be number one when they leave. He’ll, fucking, beat, you!

-And that’s when All Might finds the two of them. And he takes up Katsuki, and reminds him of something. To be proud of yourself, is a fine thing. But you must not let it blind you, or let it cause you pain when you are still young and inexpe—

-Katsuki demands he let the fuck go, now. Because he’s not interested in a lecture. He’s going to be somebody. He’s going to push himself, he’s going to be stronger than even YOU, and he doesn’t need your damn lectures to make that happen! All Might, too shocked to properly respond, can only let the kid go…

-As everyone’s watching…And Ochaco is continuing to get fired up about fated battles between men. She really does wanna just see Izuku get all sweaty and shirtless, doesn’t she.

-Credits!

-Aftercredits! A few days later, they’d all find out, just how terrifying and cunning villains can be…As in a bar, back in the Now, a few villains are talking about the fact that All Might’s in town, now a teacher at UA…

…Fuckin’ hell, Katsuki. You’re a real piece of work, you know that? Anyways, we’ll see how his ego keeps getting him in trouble next time, in episode NINE of My Hero Academia! Wait for it!

#where I watch #recap #anime #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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