#literally just me shouting into the void and sorting out my thoughts without yelling them at friends

[haldenlith]

Okay, no, I'm not done ranting about my misgivings about Mara and Crow's writing as of late. I've been sitting here stewing, and I might as well shout into the void about it.

It's true, I've never liked Mara as a person, because she was condescending, arrogant, and manipulative, especially after Forsaken and scouring through everything lore wise, and seeing how she treated Uldren as just another tool in her toolkit, and was... basically abusive.

But I did think she was interesting as a character. My biggest problems with her weren't ever with her, per se, but with how the universe reacted to her. Or didn't react to her, rather. It seemed like everyone was always, all the time, blind to her actions. It was frustrating. Zavala was the only character, it seemed, that ever seemed leery of her. It was refreshing to have our Ghost yell at her when he did, even if we got shouted down by her afterwards. It was nice to see (well, read) Jolyon stand up to her. It was hella refreshing to have Ikora clap back at her, especially after Mara had spent so much time blaming The Guardian for Uldren's death, with the response of, "No Mara, you did that shit." It was nice to see the universe react to her. She finally felt, to me, like she was a part of the big web of characters and stories, and not just some detached side character. She felt... real, I guess? I still didn't like. Still didn't trust her. But still, she felt a part of everything now.

And sure, I hollered and flailed and was like "STAY AWAY FROM CROW", and was unsurprised when she was like "oh he's a blank slate, I can use that." And I even thought it was interesting when attempts at reconciliation started to happen, because we had the dilemma of "Is she genuinely trying to be a sister to Crow? Or is she just trying to yank him back into the fold, back into her toolbox?". Buuuut... then Season of the Seraph happened.

You see, her reaching out to Eramis felt... strange to me. As far as I could tell, she didn't really know Eramis, had no ties to her, anything. Eramis was just another Eliksni that fought against her and subsequently ended up in the Prison of Elders. Mara had no reason to reach out to her to be all "aren't you tired?" and trying to convince Eramis to "see reason." It all felt really out of character, to me. It'd be one thing if it was Eido or Mithrax, or even Crow (given his bleeding heart nature towards Eliksni), but Mara? Queen "I'm playing 4D Chess with Everyone Around Me"? That little point didn't sit right with me.

And ever since then, it's felt like they've been taking sandpaper to her character and filing off all the sharp points and edges. The most egregious was how apparently sad and broken up she was over Amanda Holliday's death and just like... ?????? WHY WOULD SHE CARE? (Then again, the writing during Defiance was hot garbage...) This is the same woman that led hundreds of her own people to their death without them knowing for the sake of a scheme to steal power from Oryx. She isn't going to care about some random human mechanic. The most I could see her doing is diplomatically, but coldly acknowledging it was a tragedy, but also reminding us that we've got shit to do.

And now she's all soft and sweet with Crow? After literal centuries of being cold to him? It makes no sense. It feels like they're trying extra hard to make her "likeable".

"But they're trying to reconcile the twins and their family arc." Okay, I get that. I hear you, but wouldn't it not only make more sense, but also be more interesting, if we had Mara having an issue of still trying to manipulate Crow and seeing him as a chess piece to move about the cosmic board, but also grappling with the hurt and confusion of "Why is my brother upset with me? He's supposed to love me. He's my brother. I am his sister. I'm only doing what's best for him." Like at this point, I feel like there should be a sort of cognitive dissonance or something that we, the player, can see, but perhaps Mara cannot.

It feels like they smoothed away her flaw of being unable to really relate and understand normal people for the sake of quickly fixing the Crow/Mara relationship. If it hadn't been for previous Mara-interactions with characters, I'd normally sit and wonder if Mara was being manipulative when she comes to Crow and is like "Oh I'm so sad and pained that you must endure Riven after what she did to you." It'd have been a situation of "oh is she being genuine, or is she being manipulative and saying what Crow wants to hear, just like Riven has pointed out?" But shit, now I honestly feel like they meant for her to be genuine.

AND SPEAKING OF CROW... We just spent a whole ass character arc of him reconciling with his past, with his flaws, with how he was used by Mara, and with how he was finally well aware that he was used and how destructive and abusive their sibling relationship was, and now he's just... suddenly cool with everything?

I recall him being very leery and distrusting of her. It's a point that was hammered on multiple times throughout his arc, along with the theme of him reconciling with his dark past (which was largely caused just as much by her as it was Riven). As I said in the other post, it would've made way more sense for Crow to be very cautious in response to Mara's mother-henning. "I understand why you're overprotective, BUT that's still not okay, and I still don't feel like I can trust you." And so on. Sure, there are signs of potential reconciliation there, but also signs of the self awareness he's attained, of realizing that sometimes, no matter how strong your bond is with family, maybe you simply can't trust them.

It just feels like whiplash to go from anger and distrust and perhaps even a little fear and realizing "hey my sister really, really, really fucked me up" to "yeah we've got this unbreakable bond and we're so cool now" in the span of two years-ish? Instead of real reconciliation between the siblings, it feels like history repeating itself and ignoring the whole point of his arc.

All that aside, it also feels like his character is getting very beaten into a box of tricks. As I said before, the amount of time they were spending on him, building him up, made him feel like he was going to play a very important role in the story. But now? He feels like the side character that's trotted out for misery and pain points and then shoved back into a box. We've yet to see him really come into his own, outside of the work he did during his introduction in Season of the Hunt. He feels SO VERY underutilized when you think about his skillset and abilities.

He has literal centuries of knowledge stashed in that dense skull of his. He's got some degree of mechanical genius, given that he built the crow-drones and the Wrathborn lures. He was the first person to successfully figure out how to get in AND OUT of The Black Garden, and live to tell the tale, with only the help of his pal Jolyon. No Light, no fancy Awoken space magic. He was Mara's fucking spy master, and it was at least insinuated that he was pretty good at it.

Aaaaaaaand... Crow's been just an errand boy and scout... this whole time. *sigh* It feels like they're afraid to let him do anything (they being the writers).

I just... their writing bugs me lately. It almost feels like they swapped writing teams and someone has to pick up where someone else left off, but without clear notes or anything, so they're just riffing it. Sort of. Sort of, because Mara just feels more and more sanitized, to me, and Crow is feeling minimized to being a man-pain party trick.

[glitchpaladin]

i remember back when i was getting into fandom and blogged about all kinds of content that i enjoy when i had my old personal blog. then i left the “fandom” scene and was almost exclusively into the rpc side of things. and it’s been a flip flop a lot over the past few years but the things that’s most jarring to me now is how other people police the kind of content you post. i’m not sure where it started but it’s bled into both. and i know there’s more casual sides of tumblr etc etc

but its like now i hesitate to reblog something if i see something i like on my dash. or even hesitate to LIKE it when i go in a tag. i used to very actively post this stuff on my blogs ( with tags and warnings mind you ) but now its like i’m afraid to even put it out there. hence the need for my sideblog and my VERY private twitter with only people i trust following both.

it’s like............... real shitty, tbh. because you always think, well im not gonna be a victim of people policing the content i enjoy. and then you are without even realizing it. 

and it’s not even with shipping either. it’s with certain tv shows. it’s with enjoying certain tropes in fic. hell, even a couple of months ago, someone in one of my main fandoms made a whole list of people who write dark!fic and tried to blacklist them from the fandom itself. and split the fandom EVEN MORE than it already was.

people call it being “antis” and things like that, but i don’t even think that’s really what it is. it’s literally policing and gatekeeping fandom to cater more to your needs when no one else is responsible for creating a safe space for you. you’re supposed to do it for yourself. 

there are things that make me supremely uncomfortable and things that squick me, leave a bad taste in my mouth, characters i despise that my friends love to the moon and back. ships, too. i literally just unfollow or blacklist or block as i need to. and it’s made me more relaxed. 

which is also hilarious because as i block people to carve out my own space on twitter or tumblr, people try to come for me and call me sensitive and attack me for it. the same types of people that ARE “antis”, i guess. who preach about things that they don’t understand. and it’s literally just me making myself comfortable.

ANYWAYS THIS WAS BASICALLY NOTHING IMPORTANT I WAS JUST HAVING SOME THOUGHTS and wanted to shout into the vOID

[captaincravatthecapricious]

Things You Said When it was Over

Somewhere else, anger, a truce, and fight, and a happy ending

cw Jon's typical level of wanting to die but not actually wanting to die, fighting, mentions of vomit but no vomit, mentions of stabbing, mentions of stitches, losing time

Spoilers for 200

Let me know if you enjoyed!  Stop back in a week for another fic. I am accepting Things You Said prompt list prompts for Jon, Martin, and/or Tim!  I have two prompts in my inbox and both have been back written, but if you are wondering if I have ignored your prompt, chances are I have not!

Being unwound hurts.  Unwound.  Rewritten.  Removed.  Pulled and crumpled and twisted and extracted.  Spun in with a web of tapes.  

Masses of crinkling magnetic strips.  Unsure where voice, and web, and body, and blood intersect.  

Woven and ripped through that careful crevasse.  

And it hurts.  Much more than being stabbed.  With that awful scratch and skittering of strands being eaten by an eager, hungry machine.  

As time and entities and two people are chewed through and eaten with all the care of a faulty cassette player.  

It’s a shriek of static, the thrumming whine of machinery wound wrong.  The deafening scrabble of unknowable and terrible things going Elsewhere.  Loud enough that the explosion doesn’t even register.  Just a background whine to the overpowering white noise of the end of the world moving.  

And Jon wakes up.  

With a gasp.  Small.  And so painfully normal.  Like his POTS flaring up and waking up in the break room.  Again.  

That hasn’t happened since the world ended.  Since things went wrong.  

A strange thing to reminisce about.  POTS isn’t something he thought he’d miss.  And… well… he doesn’t?  Didn’t?  Doesn’t know the tense to use because there was that slim, slim chance that everything is actually okay.  The smallest, most fragile idea that things are back to that idyllic normal of the safehouse.  

He doesn't move for a while.  Focusing on breathing.  It's cold.  He isn't sure if the air is cold or if he's experiencing cold himself, or if this is just a new way of feeling pain.  He can't tell.  

His chest hurts, but he can't make himself check for blood.  Moving is still a little too beyond him.  

He wants to open his eyes, and look for Martin, but he doesn't want this to go away.  Because if he's alive, then Martin must be too, right?  Martin was much more likely to survive this.  Not being... you know, stabbed?  

But what if only Jon is somewhere else?  What if this is somewhere Martin couldn't follow?

In that case, Jon would rather not be alive at all.  If he doomed all the other universes because he couldn't go through with it in the end... if he gave it all up for Martin... he can't live with that.  He can't.  More than not wanting to, he just... Can't.  

Then again everything is... kind of numb so he can't actually be sure that Martin isn't there... but he is never that lucky.  Jon never gets the privilege of the best case scenario.  

Breathing still hurts.  But he doesn’t think it hurts in the “breathing around a knife” sort of way.  Then again, after bearing witness to the pain of Everyone on the planet, a single wound is hardly a drop in that ocean with all the other pain just Gone.  

“Jon!  Jon!  Can you hear me?”

He cracks his eyes open, and is met with the safe house ceiling.  Eyes struggling to focus, trying to find the source of the voice that certainly sounds like Martin, but Jon is too sore to move.  The force of it hitting him out of nowhere, without him even trying to lift a finger.  Senses filling the void of 7 billion people screaming with the voices of scars and joints and exhaustion and hunger.  

The best response he can manage is a wheezy groan.  

Wheezy?

Does he need his inhaler again?  Did Martin pack that even?  He hasn’t needed it… since… the world ended.  

Everything’s blurry.  Where did his glasses go?  

“Oh thank Christ!”  

Jon makes to sit up, but stars burst in his vision, and his arms give out.  

Martin’s hands fluttering around him.  Flying to his chest.  

Jon carefully reaches for his chest also.  There is a hole in his shirt.  Well.  A lot of holes, but he’s only looking for one.  

He feels tacky blood on its way to drying.  And as he carefully probes further, he finds a tidy line of stitches in slightly sticky thread, that he has a sinking suspicion is spider’s silk.  A final gift.  A thank you.  He wants to vomit.  

But Martin’s hand catches his, stopping him from potentially hurting himself.  Jon stretches his free hand to cup Martin’s cheek.  He finds it wet.  

It occurs to him that Martin has been crying.  Is crying?  Jon can’t tell.  His face is too far away to see more than the fuzzy outline.  (Not that Martin’s face is actually far away, Jon just has shit vision).  

Crying, present tense, Jon assesses, when Martin shakes with a suppressed, silenced sob.  “How could you do that Jon?  Fuck!  I mean… I knew you would.  But how could you do that?  You Lied to me.  You could have Died!  And I know you didn’t.  But Jon, I… I can’t.  You Promised me!  You Promised!  I…  How could you make me do that?  To you?  How could you?  I…  Jon, how could you?”  Martin’s crying too hard to get anything else out, and Jon still hasn’t managed to find enough breath and energy to speak.  

Jon whines.  Too exhausted to even sign.  

Martin’s hand on his chest.  Still trying to keep the blood in, even when there is no blood trying to get out anymore.  Martin’s usually warm hand icy (Jon hopes with fear, and not the Lonely, but he can’t know.  Firstly because he can’t break another promise, Secondly because he doesn’t think he can Know anymore, and thinking about trying makes his stomach drop.)  

And Jon just… can’t.  He rolls on his side away from Martin.  Curling up tightly.  Against the angry words and the guilt, and the rest of the guilt, and the pain in his body.  He’s doomed infinite worlds.  He’s betrayed everyone who ever cared about him… who he ever cared about.  He caused so much pain and he sat back and watched.  It seared through him the entire time of unknown and uncountable quantity that made up the apocalypse.  

All the words that he could never say, the guilt he could never express, all his own fear that had been just as much a meal for his god choking him.  

And he braces for the hate and the rest of the yelling, and everything else he deserves.  Everything he brought upon himself, one poor choice after another.  

Squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself gone and wills that if he doesn’t just vanish out of everything that Martin will get done yelling quick so maybe Jon can grovel some comfort out of him, even if it isn’t forgiveness, it will be better than the aching nothing that has been threatening to overtake him since he tasted the bitter words of the false statement.  

Martin more than deserves his anger, but Jon can’t take it.  He’s literally held together by spider silk.  He’s worn and tired and battered.  Guilt plunging deeper than Martin’s knife ever could.  

Not that he’s not grateful for this time with Martin.  Not that he doesn’t deserve every centimeter of guilt piling up on him.  He deserves all the hate.  And all the anger.  

He’s spineless, and he knows it.  He Almost did the right thing, but he couldn’t.  And he almost lost everything he cares about.  And now he probably still has.  And… and what?  What now?  Martin elected to stay with him despite it all, on one stupid, slim chance that things could be okay, but how can they be okay ever again, with this aching hole of fault and blame and regret and shame pulling at his core.  And he wants to be pulled open and rip it out.  He wants to enjoy what he has, but he can’t and Martin has every reason to hate him.  

He’s lost time.  

Martin’s calling his name, and his limbs are stiff and numb from bracing for an impact that never came.  

“Jon.  Christ.  Jon!  I’m… I… I didn’t mean to scare you.  I… I don’t hate you.  I love you, I promise.  …I’m… angry.  And we need to talk about this.  But… but I think that should wait until you’re up for talking, and I’m up for not crying for ya know, more than five minutes at a time.  ….And Fuck.  I just… well.  You owe me a good screaming at, too.  And Goddamn it, you were just doing what you thought was right… and you tried to tell us… tell me.  I’m not saying you were right, because you weren’t… but I’m not saying you were wrong.  And.  Well.  We’re both here.  Please.  I’m sorry for yelling.  Can I touch you?”

Jon nods jerkily.  Because he can’t stand the distance between them.  He doesn’t care if touch can get him hurt, he’d take hurt over the space between them.  

Martin holds him like he’s precious and Jon cries.  

Harder than he has in a very long time.  

And when he’s done he’s empty and shaking and filthy.  

They shower and sleep.  In the morning they can shout at each other for broken promises and wandering off, and not communicating enough, and not listening when the other is trying to communicate.  And one leaves in a huff, and one cries himself sick in the bathroom, and there is hugging and a trip to town for tea and figuring out if this is the universe they saved or one of the infinite they doomed.  And there are years for the aftershocks of those arguments to bounce around, losing energy in the form of heat: tea, hugs, hot showers, overeager workouts, kisses a little too rough, hugs a little too tight, a strange combination between fierce affection, and things a little too much to make them feel like they are accomplishing something.  

And they can grow whole once more.  

And they can grow old.  

[concussed-to-pieces]

Stay Safe Part Eight: Savior At High Noon

Fandom: The Mandalorian [Star Wars]

Pairing: Eventual Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: You kids ready for a firefight? I'm talkin' Yojimbo, bringing a knife to a gun fight levels of firefight. Enjoy!

Tag List: @wrestlingfae @huliabitch @toxiicpop @helplessly-nonstop @culturalrebel @renegademustelid @sinnamon-bunn @literal-fand0m-trash @fioccodineveautunnale @hxldmxdxwn @lizajane3 @thewaythisis @nellyneko @absurdthirst @kylolover96 @crownofmanga @talesfromtheguild @robbinholland @lukesrighthand @hoodedbirdie @lackofhonor @thyestean-feast @oh-no-who-am-i

Part One: Should Have Known Better

Part Two: Tranquil Turmoil

Part Three: Vibroblade Mettle

Part Four: Reaching Out

Part Five: Dark Past

Part Six: Go Alone

Part Seven: Like A Ghost

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains graphic depictions of gore. Stay safe!]

You walked through the night and on into the next day, only stopping briefly for short breaks or to halfheartedly gnaw at a tasteless ration bar. You hadn't actually meant to go for so long without a proper rest, but it was as though your legs had a mind of their own. You just kept putting one foot in front of the other, studiously avoiding the thoughts that threatened your fragile emotional state.

When you finally arrived at the city gates as the sun was setting, you were momentarily confused to see two stormtroopers posted there. Oh, right. That message mentioned something like this.

"Chain code." One of them ordered as you approached, his scanner already out.

"Uh." Your voice rasped dryly and you winced, clearing your throat. "Um, let me…" You wearily dug through several of your pouches before you finally located the battered card, holding it out to the trooper. He scanned it silently, held it up to the light, and then handed it back with a nod. 

"Don't cause any trouble, drifter." His modulated voice sent a sad little tremor of familiarity through your body. You trudged past the sentries, feeling exhaustion burn at your eyes. Maker, you could use a nap. What time was it? 

Slogging your way through the sand, you waved to a few people you did recognize, well on your way to sleeping wherever you stopped next. The sheer number of stormtroopers around was something that you knew you ought to find concerning, but at the moment you couldn't muster up the ability to care.

Aside from that, this was normal. This was what you knew, comfortable in its familiarity. The clunky droids, the sand in your boots, the whirring grind of hoverskiff engines.

Normal. 

You finally landed beneath a rare unoccupied overhang in an alley, your small pack clutched to your chest as you curled up on your side in the sand. 

Normal.

This was what you had wanted to return to when all of this started out, you reminded yourself sternly while you wrapped up in your cloak. Stability. Safety. Work. 

Why did your chest ache so much?

Your shoulders heaved as you sucked in a breath, the pack you held seeming too heavy. The child hadn't been heavy at all. Negligible, even. You wondered where they would go after all of this was sorted out, whether the Mandalorian would come back regularly once the Guild was reinstated and his record was expunged.

The galaxy would keep on spinning, despite your weary ruminations.

I'll never see him again, will I? Him or the child.

Overhead, the stars began to reveal themselves one after another as night descended upon the small city, and you slowly lost the fight with the tears that you had been holding back since you left the cockpit.

This is the Way. 

...

A dull rumble roused you from your uneasy slumber, and you briefly feared that there was a storm coming. The beaming sunlight seemed to contraindicate that notion, though. You squinted upwards, trying to gauge the time. It would appear that you had slept through the night; if you had to guess, you would say it was nearly noon.

Your stomach growled and you sat up slowly, digging around in your pack for the bar that you had forsaken the day prior.

A black ship roared by overhead and your eyes widened, certain that-- 

What the hell was that?! You pinched the skin of your inner arm, then swore loudly at the pain. Several more rumbles echoed through the streets, and now you could dimly pick up the rattle of automatic blaster fire. Armed conflicts were not unheard of, but never on a scale like this. It sounded like a full-blown invasion!

You scrambled to your feet, your pack abandoned on the ground. After a moment of hesitation where you thought better of whatever it was that you planned on doing, you set off running towards the commotion. 

The ruckus seemed to be moving steadily in the direction of the town cantina. Your own path took you parallel to the main thoroughfare and after a few moments, you caught a fleeting glimpse of the IG unit zipping past. 

What? 

You skidded to a stop, then changed direction to emerge out onto the main road. It was IG-11, the spindly droid astride a speeder bike taking out stormtroopers left and right. "IG!" You yelled, waving your arms to get its attention.

The droid didn't pause in its fire even as it greeted you, eyes rotating to catch any and all encroaching threats. "There has been a change in the plan." IG-11 said calmly. "Kuiil has been terminated. I would advise you to pick up a weapon and assist me in defending the child."

Kuiil has been terminated. Your heart broke, but you barely had time to register the grief. "You have the baby?!" You gasped, noticing the pack around the droid's torso as you did. 

"Of course. I have been programmed to protect."

You rushed to yank free one of the plastoid armor sections from a fallen stormtrooper, ending up with the whole sleeve shucked off in your hands. It was no beskar, but hopefully it would help. You had seen the Mandalorian defend his head by simply shifting his shoulder. If you used that same technique, you might be able to get away with lugging less armor along. 

You pulled the armor up over your shoulder, the black body-sleeve gripping your bare arm tightly. A standard-issue blaster settled into your hands, clunky and unfamiliar but you would make it work. You had no real choice in the matter. You nodded stiffly up at the IG unit, who revved the speeder bike. "I cannot wait for you. It is imperative that I make my way forward with haste." The droid informed you.

"I get it. You go on, I'll follow." You replied, reaching out for one indulgent second to cup the baby's cheek. They were simply watching silently from the satchel, those huge eyes looking slightly dazed. A bruise darkened the skin over their left eye. "Take care of them. Please."

"Of course." IG-11 sped off in a cloud of dust and you squared your shoulders. 

Well. You couldn't say that a plan not going properly was anything new. 

You trailed along after the capable droid, striding across the sandy streets with renewed purpose. Few stormtroopers escaped IG-11's blaster shots and if they did, your own soon finished them off. Every pull of the trigger was pragmatic, removed from you but still holding weight. You refused to dwell on the carnage at this moment. Later, there would be time. Just like for Kuiil. Time to grieve, time to process...

You checked your ammunition and kept moving, your eyes scanning the sand clouds ahead. You were approaching the town square, the locale of the cantina which served as the hub for the Guild on Nevarro. Blaster shots lit up the dust, red lines crisscrossing again and again. It sounded like the fighting was at its thickest here. 

You forced your legs to keep carrying you forward when an explosion rippled through the air like thunder, refusing to be immobilized by your fear (no matter how much you wished you could be!). Your shaky fingers shoved a new canister of blaster gas into your pilfered rifle as you peered around the corner of the closest structure, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene in front of you through the haze of dust and smoke.

Stormtroopers scattered to and fro, their ranks disjointed. You kept to the edge of the square, doing your best to avoid the fray that raged in the center. Not exactly a difficult task, seeing as the only person everyone had it out for was an achingly familiar, deafeningly loud instrument of death clad in highly-reflective armor. 

The Mandalorian had an entire E-web gun in his hands, holding it like some kind of battering ram. How he even managed to lift it was a mystery in and of itself! The stand for it stood nearby, forlorn and empty. The old cantina looked like it had taken the brunt of the assault from the weapon before it had been...commandeered. 

The armored man widened his stance and you were just close enough to hear him scream, "Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu!", his voice raw with fury. The E-web repeater spun up like a gatling gun, chewing through the stormtroopers with a vengeance. The Mandalorian didn't stop shouting in Mando'a, beskar plate sending out spark showers from all the haphazard shots aimed his way. His boots stomped rhythmically against the ground, shoulders squared and head tilted downwards as he swung the gun in a wide semi-circle.

You caught a brief glimpse of Cara in the cantina doorway, her borrowed Bren drum-fed blaster pounding away at the stormtroopers. Over her head was an older man dual-wielding a set of pistols, his deadly accurate shots booming loudly through the automatic rattle. 

You raised your own rifle, settling the stock against your shoulder and carefully leading your targets. If there had been one thing you learned on Sorgan, it was to be cautiously aggressive. You aimed for knees, exploiting the weakest area in the trooper armor to topple them quickly and leave them floundering in the sand.

So thorough was your focus, you nearly missed the man swathed in black. 

His cape billowed out behind him, a void in the sandy chaos. He was clearly a leader of some sort, the way he carried himself and the fact that he moved through the battlefield with no helmet enough to give you pause. You lined your rifle up almost on instinct to take a shot at his unprotected head, flinching when he stopped moving and you lost your bead on him. By the time you had relocated your target, a stormtrooper had posted up alongside him. You swore, about to adjust downwards to deal with the trooper first.

Your attention was snagged on the way by the commander's service blaster raising. You followed the line of his shot with your eyes, realizing where it was headed a second before he fired. 

Your mind scrambled for a solution and you cried, "Aru'e!", though you knew there was no way he could even hear you. Enemy ahead!

You saw the Mandalorian's helmet jerk up at the word and he stopped dead, staring directly at you while the E-web chewed uselessly through a section of masonry off to the left. You could feel it, even through the glossy black of his visor; he heard you, he saw you. He knew you were there. 

His shoulders slumped, defeated. 

"Nari!" You screamed, making a shoving gesture, move! But he didn't. It was like he was rooted in place.

The commander's bolt cracked into the Mandalorian's helmet at close range, the ringing blow staggering the beskar-wearing man instead of dispersing over the armor. 

And as the Mandalorian struggled to turn, slicing a wide and clumsy circle back with the E-web, the commander lowered his blaster to aim for the power supply still attached to the vacant tripod. 

With a simple pull of the trigger the entire tripod exploded forcefully, black shrapnel flying outwards in a deadly haze. You couldn't help your distressed cry as the Mandalorian was pitched violently back from the fiery blast. 

Once he hit the ground, he didn't move. 

Get up, you begged mentally. Please get up. Please don't be dead. Please. Your vision blurred with tears, grief threatening to swallow you whole as he continued to just...lay there, his flight suit smoking slightly. Then…

Then, you gritted your teeth.

"Cara!" You yelled, straining to be heard over the cacophony of gunfire. The woman started visibly, glancing around until her eyes landed on you. "Cover me!" You requested, drawing your old knife.

She tapped her ear and nodded to indicate that she understood. Then, she let out a war whoop, her auto rifle throwing slugs over your head to take out your pursuers. Meanwhile, you took the path of most resistance and least distance. 

Dodge. Jump. Roll. Onto stomach. Back up. Kick shin. Knife, knife, done. Keep moving! 

Several blaster bolts whined by your face, throwing up clouds of sand to your left with a loud pank! You hurriedly raised your shielded arm to protect your head.

Off the barrel. Good! Jump. Knife to the neck. Too close. Behind the crate! Rifle to the head, pull one two, done. Keep moving! 

You weren't sure if you were imagining Cara coaching you through these skirmishes, but you could hear her voice yelling instructions and suggesting movements all the same just like on Sorgan, pick up your fucking feet rookie! 

A stormtrooper's plastoid was made for taking blaster energy. It was not made for the blunt force trauma you inflicted with the spine of your heavy old knife or the stock of the rifle. White shards flew every time you struck, and every strike was a new opening for Cara to take advantage of.

Two shots grazed your shielded arm, distributing over the plastoid with a crackle of wasted effort. You barely noticed, your eyes fixed on the shimmering beskar of the Mandalorian. It gleamed and twinkled in the desert sun like a mirage; the sheer volume of the material alone was worth a king's ransom, but the real prize you were after was the man wearing it. 

I'm going to save you.

Something clipped your side and your stride faltered, the impact making you stumble and almost fall. You didn't have time for pain at that point, shoving it down to deal with later, the adrenaline will hold the pain! Your heated advance had clearly been noted, but now the IG unit was also running interference for you, tipping the odds even further in your favor. You slung your blaster around by its tote strap and gathered yourself for one last burst of speed, your legs burning as you forced yourself to outrun the scattered gunfire trained on you.

I have to make it. 

Skidding to a halt beside the Mandalorian's body, you hurriedly sheathed your knife, dug your fists in beneath his shoulders and ripped him backwards with all your might. His cape aided you in your adrenaline-fueled struggle, ensuring that the edges of his beskar wouldn't catch on the sand. You stayed half-crouched, using his armor as a shield while you slowly, slowly dragged him back to the cantina. 

You hadn't had the time to ruminate on whether he was alive or not, so hellbent to just get him off the battlefield that you almost missed him slamming his gauntlet against his hip like he was chambering a round. 

Flames poured out of the thrower on his forearm, engulfing two troopers that you hadn't spotted on your left. "Thanks!" You gasped.

"W-What are you--" His speech was labored, barely-there. "T-T-old y-y' to st-stay s--afe..."

"As you can see I'm doing great at listening to you!" You nearly lost your grip, straining to move him quicker before screaming in frustrated panic, "Why the fuck do you wear so much fucking armor?!"

"Please--j-just..."

"Be quiet!" You yelled, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

Cara was suddenly beside you, the shadowy doorway of the cantina a looming sanctuary over your head. The shock trooper grabbed one of the Mandalorian's arms, taking some of his weight to help you haul him deeper into the cantina.

"Stay with me buddy!" Dune encouraged him, "We're gonna' get you out of here!"

"This is our only path out, can you clear it?" That older man asked the IG unit, gesturing frantically at one of the ventilation grates. You recognized his voice from the message you had heard, the one that had sent the Mandalorian into a silent fury, but you were drawing a blank on his name. Karga, possibly?

"Certainly." The droid replied cordially, bending down in front of the indicated grate. A small cutting torch flared to life in its hand and it began what promised to be the somewhat arduous process of searing through the thick grating.

"And you! I don't know what the hell you were thinking, running out there like that!" The older man turned to scold you. "Nobody's worth that loyalty, you hear me?!" He paused, then continued, "aside from...well, maybe one or two people." He stuck his hand out. "Greef Karga, chairman of the Bounty Hunter's Guild on Nevarro."

You clumsily shook the pro-offered hand, still moving the Mandalorian. "Wish we could have met under better circumstances." 

"Too true!" He agreed, shaking his head. "What a mess you made of things, Mando. You and that baby are a menace."

"I'm n-not gonna' make it," the Mandalorian coughed when you and Cara managed to prop him up against a ruined table. "Go-"

"Shut up, you'll be fine! You just got your bell...rung." Dune's sure tone faded and when you looked over, you realized her hand was brick red with blood from where she had cupped the back of his neck. Glancing down, you found out to your horror that your own palms were liberally streaked with the substance as well. Fear raked its claws down your spine and you saw your hands start to tremble even harder.

"Leave m-e." The armored man pleaded, his voice rasping.

"I'm gonna' need to take this thing off." Cara reached urgently for the side of his helmet.

His gauntlet slammed shut on her wrist, hard enough that she winced visibly. "No. Y' leave me. Y' make sure the child is safe." He fumbled at his neck, tearing loose a small pendant that was shaped like the skull of a strange beast. "H-Here. When you get to the Mandalorian covert, you show them th--at."

Your confusion was probably plastered on your face (Mandalorian covert?), but Cara nodded like she understood. 

"You tell 'em…" He paused, wheezing stridor rattling loudly in his chest. "Y' tell 'em it's fr-from...D-Din Djarin..." His name, his name. You felt sick with the realization, your eyes going wide in shock. "You tell 'em the Foundling was in my pr-protection, and they'll help you." He instructed, pressing the pendant into your hand.

"We can make it." Cara assured him, glancing worriedly at you for confirmation. 

You were already moving to haul his arm up over your shoulder again. "C'mon, let's go!" You encouraged, his dead weight dragging hard at your back.

"I'm not gonna' m-ake it, n' you know it." The Mandalorian wheezed. His hand covered your own, rolling your fingers into a fist around the pendant. 

Flames abruptly poured through the cantina door, forcing both you and Cara to duck down against the armored man. When you raised your head again, the cantina was ablaze. "They're trying to burn us out, Imp fucks!" Cara snarled, her hand clenching down on one of the Mandalorian's pauldrons. "Can't that droid cut through the grate any faster?!" She shouted at Karga.

"You're more than welcome to assist it, with the torch that you don't have!" Greef retorted.

"Y' protect the child. I can h-hold them back long enough to help you escape," the Mandalorian panted. "Let me die a w--arrior's death." 

"We're not leaving you!" Cara insisted.

You echoed her sentiment softer, pushing your forehead against his. "Can you see me?" You whispered, staring through his visor.

"Y-Yeah." He gasped after a momentary pause. 

"I'm not leaving you alone in the dark." You heard his breath hitch with a sob and you bit your lip, quelling your own tears. "I'm right here with you." You drew your thumb down your chest, and then tapped your chin. I promise. "I'm here."

A second gout of fire roared into the cantina, nearer this time. Bottles of liquor began to explode nearby from the heat, various amber browns and neon blue spotchka feeding the flames. "Why won't y'...you're going t'...p-lease-"

"I said, I'm with you." You shook your head, trying vainly to imbue your next words with some sort of apologetic tone, "this is the Way."

"This i-is the W-ay." He echoed brokenly. His hand grasped at your arm, clinging for dear life despite imploring you to leave.

There was the sharp clatter of durasteel. You heard Cara start swearing a blue streak, which prompted you to glance behind you. The horrifying sight of a flame trooper was what met your eyes, the stripes on their armor turned blood red in the smokey haze of the cantina. They leveled their flamethrower and you realized that the child, the child was between you and the stormtrooper. 

You lunged for them just as the trooper pressed down on the trigger, knowing in your mind that there was no plausible way you would be able to save them. Hell, even yourself, or Cara, or the Mandalorian. You were all in the blast zone. 

It was futile. But you still moved. 

Your hands outstretched to pick up the child. The heat alone stole your breath. Maybe you could toss them, get them out of harm's way--

The flamethrower blast roiled and seethed forward, but then...it just stopped in midair. Hovering, a massive fireball, a miniature sun. When you saw the child's arms extended out in front of it, somehow you knew that they were what held it at bay.

Their tiny hand made a gesture, a simple motion of the wrist and the fireball soared backwards, engulfing the unsuspecting flametrooper. With a blast of backdraft, the trooper's fuel tank exploded and rocketed the body back out through the cantina door.

The child sat down heavily, then slumped to the side, their eyes rolling shut.

A loud clang echoed through the boiling room. It appeared that the IG unit had managed to get through the grate, the robot finally kicking it out of the way. 

"We're through! Come on, let's go!" Karga urged.

IG-11 clattered forwards over the flaming debris, carefully scooping up the child's limp form before you could shake off your shock. "Escape and protect the child. I will administer aid to the Mandalorian, and they shall assist me." The IG unit instructed calmly, metal pincers safely depositing the unconscious baby in Cara's waiting arms.

You tugged free the piece of fabric she appeared to have been using to cover her tattoo, rushing to tie it around your head. "Keep them safe, please." You implored her, running a hand over the unconscious child's head. You tucked the Mandalorian's pendant into their robes as an afterthought.

Cara's eyes went steely and she leaned in, forehead hitting yours as she demanded in her best trooper voice, "promise me you'll bring him. Drag him if you have to."

"You have my word." The IG unit answered for the both of you. You nodded in agreement, watching Cara and Greef flee through the destroyed grate before you pulled the cloth down over your eyes. Effectively blinded, you knelt in the sand and groped forward until you found the beskar-wearing man's arm.

"Y' have to go." The Mandalorian begged desperately, weakly shoving at your chest in an attempt to push you towards the grate. "P-lease…"

"We must remove his helmet if we are to save him." IG-11 stated.

You heard the sound of a blaster priming. "Try it n' I'll kill you. Blow your goddamn neural harness to Endor. I-It is. Forbidden." The armored man seethed through his teeth. "No living thing has seen me without this helmet si-since I--" He had to stop, a wet cough interrupting his speech. "-since I swore the Cr--eed."

"I am not a living thing." The robot pointed out pragmatically. "And they have covered their eyes. Out of respect for your traditions, I hypothesize." 

"We need to take care of you. Please." You found the hand that held the blaster and you wrapped your shaking fingers around it tightly. Now that your audience was gone the panic surged through your body, threatening to send you into hysterics at any moment while you clung to the last shreds of your composure. "Please." You begged frantically. I don't want you to die. "The kid needs you." 

I need you. I love you. I'm so sorry.

You felt him yield at the same time that you heard IG-11 move, the reformed bounty droid tugging at the beskar helmet. "I require assistance." It stated after a momentary struggle. "The surface is deceptively smooth."

You ran your hands over the Mandalorian's arm, working your way up to the base of his neck and resting just beneath the edge of his helm. You knew you were running out of time. Even now the flames grew hotter and hotter on your back, the air around you becoming unbearable with smoke. "Here, put your fingers on the edges instead. I can't actually be the one to take it off, so hold it like this."

You guided IG's less-certain metal claws to a better spot to grab, making sure that it wouldn't slip. The Mandalorian's shoulders tensed weakly, like he was waiting to be attacked. 

With a firm tug and that muffled hiss of air, the helmet came off. In the moment, it was no thing of gravitas. Clinical need overrode even the Creed he kept so close to his heart and here you were, blind and all business while you fended off your terror. 

He reached up shakily to brush his knuckles against the cloth you had covered your eyes with, a silent admission of trust. "You cryin'?" His voice still sounded so foreign without the modulator, husky but clear, soft. 

"Don't worry about that right now." You moved on autopilot to support the back of his head, grimacing when you felt your fingers card through matted hair and immediately grow slick with blood. "Maker, okay, alright." You muttered, nausea making your stomach pitch as you gingerly maneuvered his head to the side so IG-11 could perform whatever interventions it had in mind.

"Can't really feel my legs." The man admitted hoarsely. "Fingers are...tingling. What I can feel hurts like a--h-ah, dammit." He struggled to inhale, another wet cough choking him.

There was a soft ping. "This is a bacta spray. It will heal you in a matter of hours." IG-11 informed him.

You felt the armored man flinch when the bacta hit the open wound on the side of his head, hissing in a breath through his teeth.

"You have suffered damage to your central processing unit." The IG said bluntly.

"You...mean my brain." The Mandalorian murmured slowly after a beat. 

"That was a joke. It is meant to put you at ease." 

In spite of the peril that loomed, you were thrilled to hear a pained snort of amusement. Leather-clad fingers twined with your own. "Helmet." He pleaded. 

"Can we put his helmet back on? Are we all set?" You asked IG-11, squeezing the Mandalorian's hand in an attempt to comfort him.

"Better to do so. These open flames will not aid in the bacta absorption or ease of respiration." The robot replied. 

You felt around for the helm, burning your fingertips on the contoured surface before you managed to get it over the Mandalorian's face once again. You were startled when he clumsily cupped your jaw and pressed his helm to the cloth that covered your eyes. "I could kiss you, little mudhorn." He rasped through his modulator, clearly delirious on a combination of pain and strong drugs. 

"I would advise that you attempt such activities at a later time." The IG unit intoned. 

The Mandalorian then allowed you and the bounty droid to haul him upright, his fingers fighting with the cloth over your eyes before you helped him shove it up out of the way. His heated armor seared at your skin even through your clothes, but the pain was a background worry compared to your relief. 

He was alive. Staggering, stumbling, most of his weight resting on either you or the spindly droid, but alive. 

As you made your way through the tunnels beneath the city, his steps became more sure. "Damn, that bacta's got some kick to it." He remarked, shaking his head and rolling his shoulders out. "Hits like a blurrg to the gut."

"I would advise against strenuous activities while you heal." The droid droned.

"I'd love to oblige you," The Mandalorian retorted sarcastically, "but I don't think I'll have the luxury." His hand rested on the top of your head, fingers buried in your hair. 

When you finally caught up with Cara and Greef, the former soldier met the three of you with a grin of relief. "They'll have to try harder than that to keep you down!" She crowed, thumping a fist into the Mandalorian's shoulder.

The Mandalorian's response was a wry, "I'd rather they didn't." 

...

Now reunited, the group of you traversed ahead. Despite being a little turned around, the Mandalorian quickly latched onto the correct path to the aforementioned covert. Progress grew more expedient as his body absorbed the bacta properly, the hunter soon able to walk unaided. 

Your rushed exodus came to an abrupt halt, however, when you stumbled upon a pile of beskar armor. 

The Mandalorian stopped dead in his tracks, and then sank to one knee. Shaking hands reached out and plucked a helmet from the pile, his thumb rubbing against the black sharding left over from where the visor had shattered.

Everyone huddled together in silence, not really wanting to interrupt the clearly-grieving man, but knowing too well that the Imperials would be overrunning the tunnels shortly.

"We should go." Cara finally murmured. You put a gentle hand on his shoulder between his cowling and pauldron, squeezing to let him know that you were there.

"You go. Take the ship." The armored man replied brokenly. "I...I can't leave it this way." You felt his shoulder tense up under your touch and you instinctively braced for impact. "Did you know about this?" He breathed, the inquiry directed at Karga. "Is this the work of your bounty hunters?" The title sounded like a curse, dripping with hatred.

"Of course not!" Greef protested. "When you left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended. The hunters just...melted away. You know how it is. They're mercenaries, not zealots!"

"Did you do this?!" The Mandalorian raged, shaking your hand off as he lunged upright and turned on the Guild leader. "Did you?!" 

"It was not his fault." said a stern female voice. Another Mandalorian emerged from a side tunnel, her majestic bronze helm adorned with small horn-like protrusions. She wore a cuirass beneath her armor that had a luxurious pelt around the neck (possibly nexu?), giving her the illusion of sporting a thick mane. 

You did your best not to gawk, though you had the feeling you were unsuccessful. She carried herself almost like Cara, but more refined, almost regal.

"We revealed ourselves. We knew what would happen if we left the covert." Leather-gloved hands reached into the pile and reverently picked up a breastplate, which she proceeded to deposit onto an already-loaded hoverskiff. "The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter." She gestured down at the armor. "This...is what resulted." Her voice was soft with grief.

"Did any survive?" The Mandalorian rasped desperately.

"I hope so. Some may have escaped off-world."

The Mandalorian looked down at the pile and then jerked his helmet back up. "Come with us." He implored.

"No." She replied disdainfully, almost as if she was scolding him for even daring to suggest such a thing. "I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains." She then turned on her heel, beckoning for the group to follow her into the side room. 

As the others trailed along behind her, you dallied just outside the doorway. With a hand pressed to your side, you took a shaky inhale. It was beginning to hurt to breathe, but only just. Like the adrenaline was dulling the pain. You didn't want to actually look at the wound for fear that it was worse than you thought, so you carefully shifted your cloak to hang over your side. 

There. Out of sight, out of mind.

Part Nine

[dessarious]

Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt75

Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU

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As his siblings finally got tired of teasing Jason, Damian found himself the center of attention again. He was not thrilled to say the least.

“So Demon Spawn, you want to stay in Paris in case they break up so you can swoop in? It’s a good strategy, not a lot of relationships last at your age.” He didn’t even bother looking at the idiot.

“That’s crass even for you Todd. I believe you’ve heard Marinette say, multiple times, that I’m not interested in her that way and I’m not.” Dick came over and put an arm around his shoulders that he immediately shrugged off.

“Friend zoned huh? A lot of people will tell you you can’t come back from that but it’s not true. You just have to be patient.” Damian could feel his eye twitching. If these morons didn’t shut up he was going to finally kill them. Then Brown had to jump in as well.

“Don’t listen to them. If you want something you should go after it. If you can come between them their relationship isn’t strong enough to survive anyway.”

“Enough! All of you just shut up. I don’t like her romantically and I’m already in a relationship so back the hell off!” He groaned internally as he realized what he’d just shouted, for his entire family to hear. He suddenly remembered all the other reasons besides Luka that he wanted to stay in Paris.

“Now that’s just sad Demon Spawn. If you want to make her jealous you’re going to have to come up with something better than a fake girlfriend.” He tossed one of his throwing knives without conscious thought but did smile slightly when Todd cursed as it bisected his earlobe.

“I do not have a girlfriend, fake or otherwise. I am however content with the way things are currently progressing with my boyfriend.” Dead silence. He’d finally gotten them all to shut up even if he knew it wouldn’t last. His entire family was just starting at him in shock while Marinette gave him an encouraging smile and Chloe actually gave an approving nod. He was honestly too scared to look at Luka though he’d never admit that.

Damian expected an explosion when they came to their senses. They’d be yelling all sorts of nonsense at each other and him. He didn’t expect them all to turn to Drake, obviously upset with him.

“How could you not tell us that? Honestly Tim, that's a need to know information.” Drake could only blink at Dick for a moment. Most of them would take it for sleep deprivation but Damian knew he was stalling though he wasn’t certain why.

“Damian’s private life is his and none of us have a right to it unless he wants to share.” He was certain Drake didn’t know about him and Luka, but he was going to let the rest think he did. Damian wondered how much of it was to help him and how much was to keep the others from teasing him about not knowing about something that was right under his nose.

“A boyfriend?” Damian turned to his father. He looked confused more than anything else. “I can’t say I expected that, granted you haven’t shown much interest in anyone at all. When do we get to meet him?” The words ‘you already have’ luckily didn’t make it out of his mouth. He had no idea if Luka was out, or if he’d want anyone to know they were dating. He didn’t seem like the type to hide but it wasn’t something they’d discussed.

“When he’s ready. I’m hoping that day never comes given the likelihood you’ll all run him off. If I’ve learned anything from the rest of you bringing home dates it’s that the level of crazy in the family is something no one else wants to be a part of.” A couple of them looked ready to argue but Cass shrugged at him.

“That’s fair. I’d start sweeping everything I own for bugs after this if I were you as well. I’m pretty sure Dick already stuck at least two in your bag.” And that was why Cass would always be his favorite. Dick had that fake innocent expression on his face that fooled absolutely no one.

“You’ll all leave Damian alone until he’s ready to talk to us.” Damian could only frown at his father. The man literally felt the need to know everything. There was no way he was just going to let this go until Damian was ready to talk. “Honestly half the reason you all end up single every time someone meets the family is because of all the research done beforehand. It’s rather creepy to sit down with a bunch of strangers and have them tell you things about your life you forgot. I’m not about to have you all ruin possibly his only chance at a relationship.”

Damian couldn’t decide whether he should be touched or insulted. As his siblings started in on each other about who’d ruined the most relationships Damian was able to chance a look at Luka to see how he was handling the craziness. He almost sighed in relief when his boyfriend just gave him a calm smile. Just the fact that he hadn’t bolted from the room was promising given some of the ways most people reacted to his mentally unstable family.

They were going to have to have a long take when they got back to Paris. So far everything had been just between them. Sure Marinette and Chloe knew they were dating but neither one was invasive about it and they’d all been friends first. Now everything was going to get complicated because no matter what his father said his family would do their best to make his life miserable. He needed to know where Luka’s boundaries were, not to mention find his own.

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[mikkomacko]

Sweet As Honey 13

For years, her house has been empty, a void for just her and Jack. Harry had done as she asked, and disappeared. Gemma went off to school, and then work, only showing up every few days to make sure Anne was still alive. It wasn't the same, nothing was the same without Harry there. He held them together. And now he's gone, living God knows where with God knows who, hurting people for a living. If boxing is what he's still doing.

The faucet is running, steam rising up from the sink and towards the water stained ceiling. It's been leaking for some time, but Anne's done nothing to stop the water. It the house collapses, maybe she'll be lucky enough for it to happen while Jack's home.

She can hear him chuckling along to the tv in the living room, and her bum throbs remembering the way he'd smacked it when she stepped in front of the TV earlier to collect his dinner plate. She starts to scrub at the dirty dishes, not minding the way the water burns her skin. Behind her, the skillet boils with water to get rid of the buildup of grease in it, and the sound of it pulls her into a sort of daydream. She can't help but think of Harry, her baby boy. She wonders if he's okay, if he's made something of himself. She'd like to think he has, but she just doesn't see how boxing could've gotten him anything. He's probably on the streets or living out of friends home, scraping by. He's probably lonely and afraid. Her eyes sting with tears and she doesn't realize she's dropped a wine glass until it's shattering by her feet.

She gasps, jumping back and wincing when a sharp sting cuts through the heel of her foot. She's stepped on a piece of the glass. Her foot is not her main concern though, because she can hear the recliner spring into place and Jack's heavy steps.

"For fucks sake!" Jack bellows, and he's grabbing Anne's shoulder and shoving get back. She feels paralyzed as the base of her spine rattles against the countertop, and her elbow bumps over the cookbooks and cutting board and paper towel rack on the counter. They clatter loudly, and Jack swears again as he focuses on Anne's trembling figure.

"I-it was an accident-"

"You were thinking of that stupid boy again!" Jack accuses, and he's not wrong, but Anne doesn't admit it. Because Harry's not stupid, not like she once thought he was.

"N-No! I'm just tired!" He grabs her elbow again, throwing her into the wall by the entrance way. Her side smacks into the wall, bones rattling painfully and she sobs.

"Stop lying to me!" Jack screams, face turning purple under his grey beard. He kicks the glass on the floor, the fragile material crunching under his boot. It slides against the floor unit it's about to hit her feet, and she screeches. Jack is glaring at her like she's the actual devil, and she knows it's only a matter of seconds before he storms at her. Without thinking she takes off out of the kitchen and down the hall, running into the bathroom and locking the door.

"ANNE!" Jack roars, boots beating against the creaky floor. He pounds his fist into the door, the plane of wood trembling under his anger. Anne does the same, stumbling backwards and falling into the tub. The curtain comes down with her weight, falling underneath her as she sobs and shakes. She wishes she had her phone, wishes Jack hadn't taken it and stomped on it with his heel for texting Gemma about Harry.

Her vision blurs around her, blocking out everything but the quaking door, and Anne can't help but think of Harry. It's been so many years, so many long years, but she knows if he were here he'd be standing in front of that door to protect her.

"Harry, Harry, Harry..." She mutters like a prayer, squeezing her eyes shut as the smoke alarm starts to blare throughout the house. Anne flinches, whimpering and holding her hands over her ears. This isn't real, this is Jack. He set them off to try and get her to come out. She squeezes her eyes shut, mumbling her son's name until she feels like she's in a dream. Eventually the smell of smoke fills the bathroom, burning her lungs, but she's too stuck in her brain too move. She doesn't know how long she's sat there, coughing and choking out his name as she realizes she's going to die. She's going to die and it's all because she let Jack tear her family apart, hurt her babies. She's a terrible mother, she deserves to die.

Anne's head pounds, and bile rises in her throat. The banging on the door gets stronger, and Anne screams when it busts open. Someone speaks over the alarm and what sounds like sirens, but she can't hear them. Arms wrap around her, and she trembles and scratches, desperate to be let free, to be released.

Eventually she's drug out of the house, realizing that the house is in fact burning in orange flames. Firefighters are working to put it out, and she finally sees that one of them is who's holding her. "Ma'am, I need you to take a deep breath, you're okay!" The firefighter shouts in her ear, setting her on some vehicle and lifting an oxygen mask over her face.

"Who's Harry? Is he inside?" The man asks, and Anne realizes she's still crying for her son.

"My son, he's gone, I made him leave!" She cries, "I need my son, my baby-my son-"

Arms wrap around her again, and she sobs in the strangers hold. She doesn't know where Jack is, but she doesn't care. She needs to find Harry.

She thinks she hears Jack in the background, but again she doesn't know. And she doesn't know that after tonight, Jack will be arrested for domestic violence, a restraining order placed against him, Gemma will move Anne into her home, and together, they'll find Harry.

~

His stomach bubbles and twists, churning as Anne falls silent. The only sound in the room are soft snores coming out of Arlo's sleeping figure. Y/n is rubbing a smoothing circle into his shoulder blade with the hand that's not holding their son against her chest, and while it does help, it doesn't help enough. Because he's still mad. He's really fucking mad and he's not entirely sure why. He doesn't really have any reason to be other than the fact that Anne and Gemma never told him anything. They had so many chances to say something to him, literally anything along the lines of "our childhood home was lit on fire" would've worked. But they never did. Even when they knew he was coming back here, they expected him to just not find out? To not want to go back there?

Harry nibbles on the rough patch of skin on his thumb, nostrils flaring as he tries to calm his thundering veins. He doesn't want to yell at them or fight. He's tired of fighting. He wants everything to be okay now, wants to have a normal family now.

Like the beam of a lighthouse through fog, y/n and Arlo flood through his mind. Her hand feels heavier on his back, seeping into the tense muscles with warmth, and Arlo's snores vibrate in his chest and head. Finally, he removes his thumb from his mouth, running his hand through his hair.

"M'going to bed," he mumbles, purposely not looking at Anne or Gemma as he climbs up from the kitchen floor. Careful not to step on the leftover pizza box that liters the floor, he reaches down to help y/n up, pushing her hair out of Arlo's face so he continues to sleep peacefully.

"Harry-"

"G'night." He interrupts Gemma, stepping away from them and into the living room that now only contains their air mattress and bags. He hears y/n bidding good nights and sharing hushed words with them as he roughly tugs off his shoes and jeans, throwing them in the direction of his bag. Y/n walks in, Arlo still resting limply against her, and carefully lays him in the middle of the bed.

Harry slides onto the bed, turning his back to the kitchen where Anne and Gemma are quietly cleaning up the pizza they'd brought for dinner and then heading to their rooms. He lays his palm over Arlo's tummy, eyes lazily falling over his baby as his little lips part with heavy breathes and how his eyelashes touch his cheeks. Y/n disappears into the bathroom, returning a few minutes later in her pajamas. She's quiet as she climbs into the bed, turning on her side to face Harry.

"Don't be too mad at them bubba," she says quietly, reaching over to rub her fingers up and down his arm. He meets her eyes, heat pooling in his chest at her heavy eyelids and frowning lips. And while she'll always be an angelic sight, especially when she's falling asleep next to him, he can't help but be annoyed with her words. She's knows him better than anyone, but she doesn't know how this feels, doesn't know what it's like to not be a part of a family, because she's always had a perfect one.

He just huffs, nuzzling his head further into his pillow and letting his eyes fall shut. He doesn't want to pick a fight with her, and he knows if he responds honestly at all they'll end up somewhere he doesn't want to be now. Y/n doesn't respond, but he hears her sigh and then leave over to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. Her hand continues to stroke his arm, soothing him into the same snores coming from Arlo.

~

He doesn't button the top three buttons of his shirt, not wanting to feel suffocated more than he already is. Arlo, who's sat in the bathroom sink with Bunny, coos at Harry, little hand reaching out to touch his silk shirt. He's always loved to touch Harry's silk clothes.

"We look nice, huh?" Harry mururms, looking down at Arlo's big eyes. He's in a plain white shirt that buttons between his legs with dark brown pants over his legs and little white vans that are so small they don't even tie. Arlo smiles, a gummy little grin that sinks dimples into his face, and smacks his hand against Harry's tummy.

"Not very talkative tonight bug," Harry says, running his hand through his hair before lifting Arlo out of the sink. Arlo lays his head on his shoulder, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric. "ya babbled and babbled yesterday."

Arlo just sighs as Harry exits the bathroom, and he thinks that's an accurate response to the mess that was yesterday. First Zayn, and then the house, and then Anne and Gemma and even y/n treating Harry like he had no reason to be upset. Yesterday was a bad day, Harry thinks dejectedly.

Y/n is setting folded clothes into her bag, straightening out the summer dress she's changed into. It's billowy and white, just boarding on see through, and Harry's heart pounds in his ears. She looks angelic.

"You ready to go?" Y/n asks, having turned to face them. She's got a sad little smile on her lips, obviously upset that Harry's been short with her all day. Harry nods, grabbing his keys off the empty fireplace mantle. He doesn't know where Gemma and Anne are but he doesn't care. They know that the dinner reservations are at 7 and they'll either be there or they won't.

Y/n exits the house, swinging the door back even though she knows Harry's coming out behind her, and he catches it last minute, the wood smacking against his palm so loudly Arlo jumps. Harry huffs, nose flaring but he shushes Arlo into snuggling back up against his shoulder.

Anne and Gemma, who were sitting on the porch steps, follow y/n to the car, an uncomfortable bubble of silence surrounding them as y/n closes her door and the other two women climb in. Harry grunts, frustrated because he really doesn't want to fight with y/n, she knows he hates fighting with her, and yet she's still pushing his buttons.

"Buying dinner for three intolerable women," Harry mutters to Arlo, who bumps his little nose into Harry's chin as he moves to look at him. "and one honey bug." He quickly adds, pleased to have his boy with him. He pulls open the door, ignoring Anne and Gemma's gaze as he buckles Arlo into his carseat. He whines when he's out of touching range of Harry, cheeks going red and tears welling in his eyes.

"Don't give me any back talk mister," Harry mutters, tightening his shoulder straps. "s'only a ten minute drive."

Arlo continues to cry, the sound being heard outside the vehicle Harry quickly gets in, buckling his seatbelt and starting the car. Harry backs out of the driveway, waiting for them to get on the main road before reaching over the center console for y/n's hand. He hers her sigh, but she doesn't hesitate to lace her fingers through his.

~

The words of his textbook stare back at him, going on and on about anti-federalists but Harry can't really get any of it to stick in his brain. He's reread this chapter twice tonight and it still hasn't registered in his brain how exactly the federalists and anti-federalists compromised because Jack's slurring loudly from the kitchen.

Harry sighs, tossing his book onto his mattress and climbing up. He pulls open the door open his bedroom, leaning against the frame when he finds his mom mopping in the hallway.

"Mum," he murmurs quietly, catching her attention. She looks up at him, haltering her movements. "I can't study with him bloody screaming."

Anne blinks at him, tired face falling and she nods. Harry gives her a sympathetic smile, and Anne calls out over her shoulder, "Jack, could you lower it a bit? Harry's got a test to study for!"

The shouting stops, and both Harry and Anne smile in relief. He's about to turn back into his room when Jack enters the hallway.

"What did you say?" Jack asks, and Harry knows by the way he's looking at Anne that he'd threatening her to repeat herself.

"I'm trying to study and you're being too loud." Harry says bitterly, glaring at the man down the hall. Jack's eyes flash up to Harry, head cocking.

"Life's unfair kid, get used to it."

"Jack-"

"Shut up Anne!"

Harry's pushing himself off the doorway before he can properly think, pushing Anne to stand him behind him. "Don't talk to her like that." Harry warns, teeth clenching.

"Don't tell me how to talk to my wife-"

"Don't talk to my mother that way!"

Anne grabs Harry's shoulder, trying to pull him back before the rising tension gets too high. Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.

"Tell your mother to stop being a bitch-"

Jack's sentence is cut off by the loud crunch of Harry's fist colliding with his nose. The man stumbles back, shocked, but Harry doesn't give him a chance to recoup before he's swinging again. Anne let's a shrill scream of Harry's name, but it falls on deaf ears as he clambers on top of the crumpled man. Harry's stuck in a haze of pent up anger and hurt and hatred, and he's taking it all out on Jack.

Harry can't feel his hands as they continuously fall down onto Jack's face, his brain going through the simple boxing technique he's been perfecting for weeks. Right, left, right, right, left...

Jack's hands press at Harry's torso and claw at his forearms, but he's gone weak. Too much blood is staining his shirt and smearing against his face. Too much blood is splattering off of Harry's bare knuckles. He's not sure how long he continues to rain hell on Jack until two hands are ripping him off by the waist, and the shouts of Anne and Gemma are filling his head.

Gemma throws him back with a strength he didn't know she had, cursing under her breath as she rushes forward to kneel by Jack. Harry's chest heaves, and his knuckles throb painfully but he feels good. He feels really fucking good. A smirk is tugging up the corner of his lips as he turns to his mother.

"Mum-"

"No Harry!" She spits, eyes blazing with rage. The pride, the accomplished feeling that was puffing in his chest fades, and he deflates.

"Wha'?" He mumbles, feeling dizzy as Anne grips his bicep harshly and shoves him in the direction of his room.

"Look at what you've done!" She screams, throwing her arms out wildly. Behind her, Gemma's carrying a groaning and almost unconscious Jack towards the bathroom. "Look at what you've done to my family!"

Harry's head swirls, stumbling into the doorway. His hands pound and ache, so bad he thinks cutting them off wouldn't hurt as much. "F-family?" Harry stutters, confused as to how she can call this a family. He's not even sure why she's mad. What did he do wrong? He stood up for her? He's getting rid of the man that's tormented them for so long.

"Mum, what-"

"Stop Harry! You're not-you're not my Harry!" Anne snarls, looking Harry up and down as if he were loam. "My Harry would never do that! He doesn't even know how to fight like that!"

Harry's heart pounds, pressing into his ribs so hard it hurts. "I-I am your Harry, I just-I just can protect us now. I box mum, I got strong for us." He desperately explains, tears building in his eyes at the way Anne continues to glare at him.

"You box?" She gasps, shaking her head in disgust. "No! No child of mine would be like you!"

"Mum, why-"

"Stop calling me that!" Anne shouts, so loud the floor seems to shake under Harry's feet. The tears spill over, tumbling down his cheeks and he goes to wipe them until he sees the excessive amount of blood on his hands.

"Please-"

"You need to leave!" Anne tells him cruelly, shoving him into his room. Sobbing and weak he stumbles to the floor, looking up at Anne in fear.

"What? Where?"

"I don't care. Anywhere but here!" She slams his door shut, ignoring the way he wails and furiously rips off his blood stained shirt to try and clean his hands. He rubs his knuckles furiously, tearing at the already cut skin until it's his own blood that's covering them, but he doesn't care because it still doesn't hurt the way his heart does.

~

Dishes clatter as the waitress stacks their plates up. Arlo squirms in Harry's hold as he wipes his face with a napkin, only for Arlo to blop a spit bubble out onto his chin. Harry huffs, sliding his plate towards the waitress and his chest sinks when he sees the pile of green beans on it. Usually y/n takes them, but tonight she'd just left them on his plate, not that he can blame her. One) they're disgusting, and two) there's still an uncomfortable tension between them. One that's been present all night, limiting conversation to just y/n, Anne, and Gemma, or Harry, Arlo, and y/n. And even y/n was quiet when talking to him.

Harry starts to settle Arlo into his carseat, pausing when the waitress comes back to give the check. Harry doesn't hesitate to send her with his card, grumbling an "mhm" when Anne and Gemma quietly thank him. He buckles Arlo in, tucking his blanket around him because it's cold out, and then grabbing the diaper bag from under the table.

"I've got it love." Y/n murmurs, taking the bag from him and pulling it over her shoulder. He thanks her, lifting Arlo's carseat in his hand and leading the girls out of the restaurant. He holds the door for them, looking down at Arlo so he doesn't have to look at them. The door has barely shut when he hears a startled gasp, his head snapping up to look over the line of girls. He immediately hands the carseat to who's closest, Gemma being the one to grab Arlo and Harry pushes to stand in front of his family. His fingers clench into fists, shoulders tensing up as he glares at the man in front of him.

"You're still around then?" Jack chuckles, looking Harry up and down with a smirk.

"Yeah. M'glad can't I say the same about you." Harry easily replies. He doesn't know how Jack's here, after what happened he should be in jail still. "Suppose it's hard to stay around with a restraining order against ya."

Jack clicks his tongue, jaw clenching. "Suppose you won't be around for long considering that temper of yours. How long before you hurt another family member, huh? Maybe that baby of yours?"

He takes a step forward, fury flooding through him and he feels proud when Jack takes a step back. "Don't fucking talk about my family. You were never family, you were a drunk prick that used and hurt my family!"

Jack scoffs, eyes blazing in the same way that haunted his dreams for so long. "I fixed your family after that father of yours left a fucking mess behind! Imagine the life you'd have if you hadn't almost killed me!"

"I wish I had fucking killed you!" Harry spits, "You abused her for years, you sent Gemma away after you fucking lied to her, you stole the fucking money from me, you kept them from my wedding and from my child! You deserve to die!"

Jack stalks forward, standing so close to Harry there's toes touch, and he glares into Harry's eyes. Harry's so mad he thinks he could beat him to a pulp again, until he's gasping for breath and begging Harry to stop.

"Then do it Styles." Jack spits, and Harry knows what he's doing. He's trying to break him. Either Harry beats him like he wants to, and he more than likely ends up in prison, or he loses his family. The last time he hit him he lost everything.

Jack shoves him back, spurring him on and Harry hates that he's got no choice here. Before anyone can move a muscle or Harry can even think of what to say someone is pulling him back, and stepping in front of him.

"Don't fucking touch my husband!" Y/n snarls, so menacing that even Harry falters. And that little falter is enough time for her to cock her fist back and throw it into Jack's jaw. Harry's eyes widen, and Gemma and Anne gasp as Jack's head snaps to the right. Y/n immediately curses, bringing her hand to her chest and wiggling in that way she does when she's hurt.

"Fuck," Harry mutters, grabbing her by the waist and tugging her back. Jack gathers his bearings, glaring at y/n with a busted lip and storming towards her.

"You little bit-" he's cut off by Harry's fist, this time the hit so hard he crumples to the sidewalk with a thud.

"Oh my God," y/n mumbles, and Harry knows Jack's out cold so he turns to y/n. She's silently crying and looking down at her left hand in shock. Harry reaches for it, apologizing when she winces. Her knuckle is cut, and her hands already swelling.

"Gotta take this off baby." Harry says, carefully prying her wedding ring off. He carefully drops it into his pocket, bringing her hand up to press a kiss to it. Gemma is on the phone behind him, obviously calling the police but he keeps his attention on his wife. She sniffles, looking up at him through her wet eyelashes and her bottom lip trembles.

"I can't believe you did that." Harry whispers, reaching up to wipe her cold tears. Y/n falls into his chest, and Harry wraps an arm around her, cupping the back of her head.

"Couldn't let you risk losing them again." She mumbles into his clothes, sniffling again. His heart jumps, and he chuckles in disbelief. She's always been good at understanding him, at navigating his silence. She knew he wouldn't be the first to hit Jack because of what happened last time.

"S'a good thing I taught ya to hit then." He laughs. "and it was a bloody good hit baby." She pulls back from him, mascara smeared under her eyes and trying to flex her fingers.

"It fucking hurts," she says bitterly, "I can't believe you do this all the time."

"Usually got gloves on." Harry snickers, rubbing his thumb over the uninjured part of her hand. "I'll put some ice on it for ya, fix you right up baby."

She smiles, grateful and sniffles again. "What happened to darling?"

"You're my baby tonight, baby." He kisses the top of her head, bringing her back to his chest for a moment. "Let's get you and Arlo in the car, s'too cold out here."

She obeys, and Harry leaves Gemma and Anne with Jack, who's been detained by restaurant security. Harry loads Arlo into the car, helping y/n into the front seat. He even squishes in the seat with her, closing the door and squeezing her close to him. They stay cuddled together, neither of them speaking as Arlo starts to snore from the backseat. Harry doesn't move until the police arrive, pressing a kiss to her head. Before he leaves to go speak with the officers, he leaves her the car keys and of course, mumbles an "I love you baby."

~

His laptop sits at the edge of the bed, Lady and the Tramp playing from Disney+ as Harry ices y/n's hand. Arlo is still snoring behind them, and y/n is getting droopy on his shoulder, his own eyes feeling heavy.

"Thank you for tonight y/n." Harry mumbles, kissing the top of her head. She doesn't move, but he can feel her smile.

"Of course," she whispers, "I'd do anything for you Harry."

Her fingers gently pat his thigh, the ice rattling from the movement and Harry shushes her before she can irritate her hand more. "M'so fucking glad I never have to come back to this town again."

"Never?"

"Never," Harry confirms, "because everything I need is in our city, in our home, and in our family."

"What about your dad?"

"I think he'd be happy knowing we've all left this behind us. I've said my goodbye."

She finally lifts her head, blinking sluggishly as she kisses his cheek. "M'ready for us to go home."

"Me too baby." Harry mumbles, knowing he's already got his home with him when Arlo snorts quite loudly and y/n giggles.

[the-dumb-smart-friend]

I spent way too long on this so please give it attention

So my one friend and I have been working on the same rp for ~2 1/2 years, and right now we’ve been on a big break because of the whole quarantine thing, and inconsistent scheduling.

LET ME TELL YOU,

So many characters have changed so much in my mind over the break that I’m going to need to look through my logs of the characters before the break. I have plans for the story that can have it continue for multiple years into the future.

I have so much planned character development and minor conflict planned, not to mention the scandalous temptation of corruption arcs. My friend’s main character has literally murdered/hurt/threatened one of my characters on many occasions, and now they’re going to have to work together in order to save both their friends, family, lovers, and the entire concept of a continuous timeline before the winter solstice.

Meanwhile, the main villain has gone from pretty much an unstoppable god mary sue character to a touch starved twink with bad intentions and an attack dog evil scientist.

Every single character believes that what they’re doing is good, even if they know deep down that what they’re doing will have awful consequences.

And I’m not even done. I finally made a concrete reason to the timelines constantly looping, and the whole revival problem, as before I just had a loose idea. The two main gods that have been hinted at to be evil and really powerful and awful and stuff (despite one helping out the protagonists and the other being neutral/evil leaning) actually worked together thousands of years ago to do this really powerful spell thing so that every time this select group of really powerful people died (along with everyone that knew them, it was often one big catastrophic event), they would all be revived in the most recent year, over and over again until they found out how to break the “curse”.

The timelines will loop over and over again until the characters all find out how to stop it, which is to somehow keep magic (one of the key building blocks that’s holding life and the world as we know it together) from completely disappearing and dying out.

So the god of magic power was like “Dudes I’m gonna die if we don’t do something to keep magic from dying out.” and all the other high ranking gods were like “Bro no, last time we intervened with something on the mortal plane, we killed all the dinosaurs.” so then the magic god was all like “Fine, but you guys are all pricks.”.

So the he asked his sister (the goddess of time, memory, and significant events/holidays) to help out, and so they created the time loop idea. They cast a really old, really forbidden, semi-DIY’d spell with all their power, but because of the great crime they committed, the more powerful gods cast them out, and took all of their memories, condemning them to the surface for the rest of time.

oooh, looks like you’re interested, nice.

Also I’m on new meds, so sorry if this is confusing.

(TW for death, mentions of gore w/o graphic descriptions, mentions of kidnapping, hints at abuse, dissociation, cursing/verbal aggression, grief)

So the two ex-gods gave themselves new names, and decided to wander around, trying to find out who they were. The two had some moral conflicts and decided to part ways. Time Goddess, who now gave herself the name Raestress (pronounced Rye-stress) eventually stumbled upon one of the mortals that she and her brother cursed for the rest of time, and decided to stick with said mortal for a while, and by that, I mean kinda stalking said mortal.

Because Raestress wasn’t the one to come up with the time loop idea, and was the one that told the other gods, she was allowed to keep some of her powers, however she had absolutely no clue how to use them.

This next pert gets a little fuzzy, and I still need to iron out the details of it, but it ends with Raestress sacrificing both her life and all her power to the mortal, but because of her punishment from the other gods, was cursed to stay as a sort of ghost or spirit that follows the mortal (Remi) she just helped, only able to talk though/to her.

The sacrifice of Raestress’ powers to Remi led to Remi being able to remember all the past timelines she’s lived through, and all the other people that were chosen to live and die over and over again, and decides that she needs to be the one to bring them all together.

Back to modern day, Remi has amnesia for unknown reasons, and makes a bunch of new friends in this little north island town she lives in. One day, a random new math teacher shows up at her highschool, then one of her friends goes missing, then her friend’s sister goes missing and is later found dead, completely torn to pieces. Then she and some friends are about to take a little walk through the forest, when one of her friends is shot with a crossbow, and dies. Sure, they’ve gotten plenty of threats before, but they all just thought it was just some kids trying to pull a prank, but now Alice is dead.

The group try to compose themselves as they wait for the police to arrive, looking up through the trees as to where the crossbow could’ve been fired from, but everything is completely obscured by a swishing sea of branches and leaves. Remi looks up through the leaves, watching them spin and swirl, growing darker as her body seems to float back and fourth in an invisible ocean.

Her vision goes completely black for a moment, but she then sees herself, standing still and looking down at her friends, who have gone from hysterics to almost silent. The world seemed to have washed itself in a shade of periwinkle, swaying like the ocean, any sounds coming out as muffled and distant. Remi watched as her body began to shudder, shoulders bouncing up and down. She watched as her body laughed completely out of her control, quickly pushed against a tree and drowned out by muffled yelling and screaming from one of her friends, Aqua.

The others tried to hold Aqua back, but despite her small frame, she could fight like a 6′ brickhouse. Remi couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t explain, or shout “That isn’t me! I’m right here!”. All she could do is watch as her body’s eyes shifted from bottle green to a sharp, brassy yellow, somehow untouched by the blueish haze that blanketed the rest of the world.

Still, her body laughed, going on and on about something that Remi couldn’t hear, no matter how much she strained to.

The rest of the day seemed to continue in a blur. the police arrived, taking all the standard procedures, but it was hard to pay attention to anything but Alice’s body being carried away in a bag. Nobody really knew what happened.

Remi was still trapped outside of her body by the time they got home that night. Whatever or whoever was controlling her was managing to get under everyone’s skin without completely shattering the illusion of Remi still being in complete control. Guess those are the consequences of being known as the one who laughs at horror movies.

As soon as they both stepped inside, Aqua had thrown Remi against a wall, holding her by the collar of her shirt.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she screamed, voice breaking before she could finish her sentence.

Remi’s body chuckled with squinted eyes, playfully glaring down at Aqua, boring into her skull.

“I should be asking you the same thing, sweetheart.”

Finally at that moment did the rest of the group realize that whoever was piloting Remi’s body definitely wasn’t her, because whatever spoke was using a voice that didn’t match in the slightest.

It’s voice sounded like it could’ve been either a young man or an older woman, familiar and welcoming yet cold and sharp as ice, sharp enough to cut through whatever was muffling the voices from wherever Remi was stuck.

Aqua dropped whoever this person was, taking shaky steps backward, clearly trying to say something, but no sound came out.

This strange person took a step forward, bowing and swishing their arm with a flourish.

“Though I can’t explain everything now, I’m sure that your dear friend Remi will.” They purred, staring through the veil and directly into Remi’s eyes.

“Who are you?” Aqua shuddered, invisible hands trailing cold fingers up her spine.

“A nobody, a somebody. A friend, an enemy. Nobody really knows when or where I’ll come or go, but if you were to call me anything, feel free to call me Crow.”

Something about that name just didn’t sit right, it seemed to send an imaginary bullet through Remi’s head, swimming through her thoughts and flipping every switch in her brain. Something, somewhere, was screaming at her, remember, remember. The already strange world started to get stranger, dark figures appearing all around Remi, reaching out and covering her eyes, ears, mouth, nose, everything until all she could sense was a dark void.

Crow smiled, kneeling down to meet Aqua’s new level on the floor.

“Right now, I’m serving as nothing more than a distraction, and maybe just a little something to get this story going” they said,

Aqua again tried to respond, but her voice had seemed to just disappear at the most crucial moments.

“I do hope we meet again.” Crow ruffled Aqua’s hair just as all the lights flickered out, leaving complete silence and confusion, after all, what was there to say?

Minutes passed, though nobody was keeping count. Nobody moved, and instead just stood wherever they were, trying desperately to process all of today.

When the lights finally flickered back on, Remi was passed out on the floor, but after everything that just happened, it took everyone a while to notice. Nobody said anything.

Will had carried Remi upstairs to her room, hoping that maybe staying by her side could make a nice distraction. Aqua had stayed sitting on the floor, back to back with the couch, head in her hands. Everyone decided to keep to themselves for the rest of the night.

By the next morning, Remi still hadn’t woken up. Sure, not quite unusual, but right now what everyone needed was an explanation, or one of her sarcastic jokes at the very least. It was at noon when everyone had started to worry. 

It had reached 5PM when she finally jolted awake, catching her breath and running her hands through her hair.

“I remember...” She whispered,

“I remember everything.” She said again, quickly standing up and rummaging through her desk, despite Will telling her to take it easy.

“My notebooks, they’re all gone!”

“Remi, please,” Will tried to step forward and calm her down, but she pressed on.

“Don’t call me that.” She demanded, mumbling something afterward, “Just call me Rei.”

Alrighty so I might finish this at some point, idk, but the explanation/TL;DR is pretty much that BBEG had tried to kill Aqua, the main thing holding him back from achieving his goal, but Alice had jumped in the way and sacrificed herself.

Rei was then pushed out of her own body by a mysterious deity known only as Crow, who by the way is not Raestress, I just didn’t know how to quickly explain everything. Both Crow and Raestress had somehow managed to together give Rei back all her memories of the past timelines, but because of Crow’s distraction, the BBEG was able to steal all of Rei’s logs of strange dreams and little songs, all of which can be pieced together into an encrypted spell that has the ability to bring back the dead, a spell that has long since been completely banned and erased from the world.

When Rei was trapped outside of her body, she was actually pushed out into limbo/the spirit world, and all the dark figures were different versions of her from her past, though that was never really specified in the original story either, I just left it up to debate.

There is still very little known about Crow, but we know that they’re a sort of grim reaper character, have a past with Rei, and that they’re working for the BBEG for some unspecified reason.

The reason Rei doesn’t like being called Remi is because the letter M is considered evil and bad luck to her and others that are enemies of/know the atrocities or the BBEG and his family. Also because she prefers to distance herself from her past with Crow as much as possible.

Will, who was mentioned at the end, is actually Rei’s girlfriend.

Aqua is my friend’s main character, who is kinda really hotheaded, and is later tricked into killing one of my characters.

BBEG and his siblings are all children of the god of magic that was mentioned earlier.

If anything is confusing, or if you want more of the story, let me know, and I’ll try to add more.

[freddiesaysalright]

Soft in Love Part 9

A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader Fic

Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges.

Word Count: 3.2k

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @benders-diamond-earring​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @anincurablefangirl​, @kiainspace​, @lookuptotheskiesandsee​, @god-save-the-deaks​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @misslolasworld​, @not-john-watsons-blog​, @spacedustmazzello​, @theindiealto​, @riddikuluslypotter​, @depressedbitchxox​, @tenement-funstah​, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​, @sarablog10​, @johndeaconshands​, @coincidence-ithinknots-blog​, @simonedk​, @queenlover05​, @goodoldfashionedloverboyy​, @the-claire-bitch-project, @kerouacsroad​, @rose-writes-prose​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: The drama intensifies! Gwilym and Y/N make some important decisions regarding Edith’s blackmail.

Warning(s): none!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8 

Part 9 here we go!!!

That night, Gwilym picked you up from your dorm. His hands were sweaty as he waited for you to emerge. Again, he was debating telling you about Edith and her threats. That way you wouldn’t be so angry at him. But a stronger part of him didn’t want to make you feel bad. Still, he knew you were going to have questions. He had to come up with something to say to satisfy you.

You slid into the passenger seat, his heart skipping its usual beat at the sight of your smile. When you leaned over to kiss him, he was surprised.

“You’re not angry with me?” he wondered as you sat back to buckle up.

You shook your head. “Daniel told me what happened.”

“Daniel?”

You explained what Daniel told you in the dressing room. You even shared his suggestion to break up and take away Edith’s power. You carefully watched Gwilym’s expression at this. His mouth turned down and he narrowed his eyes. He pulled up to his hotel in silence. As you followed him to his room, you grew more anxious. He wasn’t actually considering what Daniel said was he? You had refused it as an option because it felt impossible. Did Gwilym not feel the same? What did that mean?

Gwilym opened the door for you and you walked inside, legs slightly shaking. You weren’t sure what he might say now. Would he end it?

He flopped down on the bed, lying spread eagle. You crawled up after him and cuddled into his side. His arm draped over your shoulders. It made you feel so safe.

“We’ve got to figure something out,” he said. “She can’t take shows from you.”

“I dunno, baby,” you said. “Maybe we should just let this happen.”

“It’s not right!” he protested.

“No, it’s not, but what can we do?” you replied. “We’ve sort of done this to ourselves.”

“I know,” he sighed irritably. “But I hate this for you.”

“I do too,” you agreed. “I really do. Especially opening night. I wish you had given her closing instead.”

“She asked for that,” he said. “But I couldn’t.”

You sat up and looked sharply at him. “What?! Why?!”

“Now that, I really can’t tell you,” he said. “I’ve got something in mind for that night.”

“A surprise?” you asked, curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, would it?” he returned.

He sat up too and pressed his lips to your temple. Then he sighed again. Your eyes searched his face. You saw in his eyes a deep sadness. It had come on so suddenly, it frightened you.

“I think Daniel’s right,” he said. “I think we should...call it a day.”

Once again, tears filled your eyes.

“Is that really what you want?” you whimpered. 

He looked at you, took in your tearful face, and he pulled you into his arms.

“Of course it’s not,” he said. “I just don’t want you to miss out on your rightful chance. I care about you too much, and if being without me is better for you -”

“Stop it,” you sighed and tugged yourself away from him. “Gwilym, you either want to be with me or not. Which is it?”

“I want to be with you,” he answered without hesitation. “It’s just that -”

“No, listen to me,” you said. “It doesn’t matter if we break up. She still heard what she heard, and so did Dan. We can get through this as a couple or separate and still have the same problem.”

He looked thoughtfully at the floor.

“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have considered it.”

You offered a watery smile. “It’s alright. Just...fuck, Gwil. What are we going to do?”

“So now you’re on board to do something?” he teased.

“Yes!” you said, perking up. “Edith can’t do this. She can’t take my shows away from me and she can’t take you away from me.”

“I admire your conviction, darling,” he said with a soft smile.

“Well, she can’t,” you repeated stubbornly. 

His heart swelled as he looked at your determined face.

“You’re so cute,” he said, cupping your cheek. You closed your eyes to his touch. “I love you.”

Your eyes snapped open to meet Gwilym’s. His were wide, frightened, as if he’d just told you something terrible instead of perhaps the most wonderful thing you’d ever heard in your life.

“You...you love me?”

Gwilym took a deep breath, relaxing his face. He looked at you. This time with strength and confidence.

“Yes, Y/N,” he said. “That’s where my heart is. I love you.”

A smile spread slowly across your face as he said it again.

“I love you too,” you replied. “So, so much.”

He grinned. Then pulled you in for another kiss. It was soft and tender and expressive. Everything that reflected the moment. Your heart felt full. This was so right.

“I love you,” he said again as you parted. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you giggled.

“Because I love you, I’m not going to let Edith have this,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’m going to restore your nights to you and go to the Dean’s office myself.”

Panic shot through you.

“No!” you cried. “They’ll fire you!”

“So what?” he returned. “I’ll tell them it was me, and you shouldn’t be punished.”

“If you’re going to lie, it might as well be a flat out denial,” you pointed out. “Let’s face it, I came on to you. I think we should let her go to the Dean’s office and then deny when there’s questions.”

“It is her word against ours,” he said.

“Oh, fuck,” you sighed. 

“What?”

“I forgot about Dan,” you said. “He heard us too. She’s got another witness.”

“Shit,” he muttered.

A beat passed as you both pondered.

“Y/N, please let me do the honorable thing,” he said. “Let me take the fall for this so you don’t have to lose.”

You bottom lip quivered. “But then you’ll leave…”

“It won’t be forever,” he said. “I’ll stay in New York until you’re done and then we’ll figure it out. Together.”

“I can’t let you,” you told him. “I can’t let you take this alone.”

“Please,” he said again. “Let me do this for you.”

A tear slid down your cheek. Any more ups and downs and you were sure your head would literally be spinning.

“We don’t have to decide tonight,” you said. “I’m so tired. Can’t we just lay down and forget about all of it? We love each other, we should be celebrating.”

He smiled gently.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’ll order some champagne and then we’ll just relax. It’s been a long day.”

“You’re the best,”  you told him.

He did order champagne and some dinner from room service. Together, you ate, took a bath, and then settled into bed and watched some trashy reality TV show. For a couple hours, all thoughts of Edith, the show, and anything else were null and void. You were in love with Gwilym, and he loved you right back. Despite everything going on, you were completely and totally happy.

On Thursday, when you arrived early, Edith and Gwilym were already there. He was speaking calmly to her but she looked furious. Her eyes flashed toward you when you walked through the door. She stormed toward you.

“Just because you’re fucking the professor, you think you can get whatever you want,” she spat. Literally. She was so close to you, you felt drops of saliva on your face. “Well, I’ll get rid of you right now!”

“Oh, shut up,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I got the part of Esther before Gwilym was even here.”

She stamped her foot and then whipped around to face Gwilym again.

“I’m going to the Dean’s office right now!” she shouted. “You’ll both be out of here!”

“Go then!” you yelled back.

She swept out of the auditorium, trying to slam the door behind her, but it was too slow and it clicked shut softly. When she was well away, you jogged over to Gwilym.

“What do you want to do?” you asked frantically.

He stared at the spot where Edith disappeared.

“I want to keep teaching,” he admitted. “I want to stay with you.”

“So, we lie?” you wondered.

He nodded and looked at you. “We lie.”

You sat in anxiety for the remainder of the ten minutes until the rest of the class started showing up. Gwilym started to go on with class as usual, starting with attendance, when suddenly, Edith burst back into the auditorium. You would have rolled your eyes at her dramatics if it weren’t for the three people following her: Dr. Curtis, the head of the department; Dr. Dragel, the Dean of Students; and Sheri Peacock, the Chancellor.

Gwilym glanced at you before turning to his old teacher.

“Dr. Curtis,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of our guests?”

“It’s very serious, Gwilym,” Dr. Curtis replied. “Miss Bernard here has made an...an  accusation.”

“What sort of accusation?” Gwilym asked.

God, he was good. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought him genuinely confused.

“About you and Y/N,” Edith said. “You’re sleeping together!”

The whole class turned eyes on you and Sloan gasped loudly next to you. Andrew was staring daggers into your left side. Gwilym blinked and his mouth dropped. You wanted to disappear into your chair. You didn't think she’d do this in front of the whole class.

“I - are you joking?!” he cried. “That’s ridiculous!”

“It is not a joke, Mr. Lee,” said Dr. Dragel. He was a stern man who was not very popular with the student body because of his strictness. “This sort of accusation is no laughing matter. She claims she heard the act taking place in Dr. Bennett’s office.”

The whole class was whispering now, a wave of shock going through them. Sloan grabbed your arm and leaned into your ear.

“Is it true?” she hissed.

You gave a curt nod, barely moving at all, and only after ensuring that the three upper faculty members had their back to you. Sloan glared fiercely at you.

“We should discuss this in private,” Dr. Curtis said. “There are dressing rooms backstage where we won’t cause so much commotion.”

He scanned the crowd and found you.

“Y/N, come with us, please,” he said.

You stood up, feeling every person’s eyes on you as you shimmied down the row and into the aisle. The murmurs of everyone were driving you crazy. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you guessed the general idea. They were discussing favoritism and scandal. You clearly heard the word “slut” from someone a row in front of you.

Putting your head down, you followed the faculty members and Edith to the dressing room. The same one where Gwil had delivered the horrible news to you earlier that week. Chancellor Peacock and Dr. Dragel looked between you and Gwilym as Dr. Curtis closed the door.

“Well, Miss Y/L/N,” said Chancellor Peacock. “Is it true? Are you and Mr. Lee in a relationship?”

“No!” you insisted. “Edith’s been jealous of me all semester, she’s making this up!”

“Don’t lie, I heard you!” Edith interjected.

“Miss Bernard, please,” said Dr. Dragel. “We’ve heard your side of the story, now we need to hear theirs.”

“I don’t know what she heard - if she heard anything at all,” you said. “But I don’t go to office hours ever. I don’t need to. This class has only one grade and it’s the show.”

“Why would Miss Bernard accuse you of something like this?” wondered Chancellor Peacock.

“Edith’s ambitious and jealous,” you said. “She really wanted my part. Not to mention, she’s been hitting on Gwilym all semester. Everyone in class will tell you that. I guess it was because she was upset I got more attention from him than she did.”

“Mr. Lee, anything to say?” Dr. Dragel asked, turning to Gwilym.

“Y/N is right, Edith has made several advances, all of which I’ve turned down,” he said. “I don’t want to say she’s a liar, but I can’t speak to what she heard that day.”

“Were you...watching pornography or something?” Dr. Dragel pressed.

“What? God, no!” Gwilym answered. “That office doesn’t even belong to me. I wouldn’t dream of doing something like that.”

Chancellor Peacock looked at Edith. “Is it true you made advances toward Gwilym?”

Edith’s face went pink. “Well - I - yes, I did,” she admitted. “But I stopped after a while because he was so clearly into Y/N.”

“Was it clear?” Dr. Curtis spoke up. “Y/N is the star of the show, it’s natural for the director to spend extra time with her. In all my rehearsals with you, I’ve never noticed anything other than professionalism from both of you. Edith on the other hand, I did see being flirtatious.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” Dr. Dragel snapped.

“Well, I expected the girls to like him,” Dr. Curtis said. “Look at him! It didn’t seem very serious, so I let it go.”

“Let me get this straight,” Chancellor Peacock said. “Edith has been flirting with Gwilym consistently over the semester. She wanted Y/N’s role from the start. Y/N got more attention from Gwilym. Now, just two weeks before the show opens, she’s come to us with a claim of an inappropriate relationship between Y/N and Gwilym that no one else can corroborate. Is that the situation here?”

“Yes,” you and Gwilym said in unison then exchanged a playful smile.

“Well, then,” Dr. Dragel said. “I think it’s perfectly clear what’s going on.”

“Hold on, I have another witness!” Edith said desperately. “Daniel was with me when I heard them. He heard it too.”

Your stomach dropped. Dr. Curtis left the room to fetch Daniel and get his statement on things. Your heart pounded. Would Daniel lie? Would he defend what Edith said? He told you he didn’t agree with her, but he was already on academic probation. If he lied now, and was found out, he could be suspended from the school.

You looked at Gwilym, willing him to look back at you, only he didn’t. He couldn’t really. It would be too obvious now. Your hand itched to clasp his for comfort. If this was the moment you went down together, you needed his support. Only, you couldn’t. Everything hinged on what Daniel might say. When the door opened, it startled you.

“Okay, Mr. Snow,” said Dr. Dragel. “Here’s what we’ve heard.”

He went over everything again. What Edith said, what you and Gwilym said, and all the information. Daniel listened, not looking at anyone, his focus solely on Dr. Dragel.

“So,” Dr. Dragel wrapped up. “Did you hear them...uh...well - did you hear them -”

“Bangin’?” Daniel finished.

Dr. Dragel flushed. You fought back a brutal urge to throttle your ex boyfriend.

Chancellor Peacock interjected. “Did you hear them having intercourse in the office?”

“Nope,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

Edith’s mouth dropped. Yours almost did too, but you couldn’t look shocked. You looked relieved instead, which was also something you were feeling.

“We went to his office so Edith could ask to play Esther for one night,” Daniel went on. “Gwilym said no. That was that.”

Gwilym sighed with relief. You did the same.

“Well, I think this makes things perfectly clear,” said Dr. Curtis, glaring at Edith. “You, young lady, will be -”

Guilt washed over you. Edith wasn’t lying, and as angry as you were with her, she didn’t deserve to be punished.

“Dr. Curtis,” you said, interrupting. “Please don’t punish Edith. I know her actions were drastic, but jealousy is a complicated emotion. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“Miss Y/L/N, this is a serious thing she accused a member of our faculty of,” Dr. Dragel said. “And quite frankly, any disciplinary action is not up to you.”

“I agree with Y/N,” Gwilym added. “It was likely a misunderstanding. Something she thought she heard, but didn’t. Besides, it’s not like I’m a permanent member of faculty.”

“Permanent or otherwise,” Dr. Dragel went on. “To falsely accuse someone of taking advantage of a student makes cases like these all the harder for real victims of such offenses. It isn’t right.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, seeing the anguish on Edith’s face, but Chancellor Peacock stepped forward.

“Dr. Dragel, Dr. Curtis, and I will deal with Edith now,” she said. “The rest of you may go.”

“But -”

“Y/N, we must go,” Gwilym cut across you.

He led you and Daniel back out, and all three of you went to the next dressing room on the other side of the stage. You popped in and closed the door.

“Thank you!” you cried, throwing yourself into Daniel’s arms. “Thank you so much!”

“No problem,” he returned. “You can owe me one.”

“I owe you a thousand,” you said, pulling back and looking at him.

“Why stand up for Edith, though?” he asked.

“Because she wasn’t actually lying,” you replied. “I felt kinda bad.”

Daniel laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Really, Daniel, thank you,” Gwilym added, extending his hand.

Daniel shook it. “Really, it’s nothing. The situation is all kinds of fucked, but I thought you guys deserved a chance.”

He looked at you and remembered how you’d exclaimed your love for Gwilym. He would never tell you so, but that was what convinced him to lie for you.

“It means a great deal,” Gwilym said. “Now, I’ve got to go tell the class what happened so they don’t get carried away.”

“Oh, yeah, pretty sure Mary and Leon already started a rumor that Y/N is pregnant,” Daniel said.

Gwilym sighed. “Oh, God. I might be too late.”

You chuckled as Gwilym kissed you swiftly on the cheek and went out. You looked at Daniel.

“Seriously, Dan, if there’s anything I can do for you,” you said. “Let me know.”

He looked at the floor and toed the ground with his boot. “Well...there is one thing.”

“Anything!” you reminded him.

“D’you…” he trailed off. “Ah, nevermind, it’s stupid.”

You took his arm before he could leave.

“Dan, just tell me,” you said.

He sighed. “Do you know if Andrew is into guys at all?”

You blinked, absolutely stunned.

“A-are you into guys?” you questioned.

“Yeah…” he said. “Well, mostly the one guy. But he’s so hung up on you and I dunno how he feels about...y’know…”

You smiled. “To answer your question, yes, Andrew is also into guys. And I think he’s mad enough at me now to be over me.”

Daniel chuckled. “Alright. Thanks, Y/N.”

“If you’re gonna go for Andrew, you better not cheat on him,” you warned.

“I won’t,” he said with a laugh. “Promise.”

You went out together to the auditorium.

“...so please forget what you heard,” Gwilym was finishing up. “It was all a misunderstanding.”

“So, you and Y/N aren’t sleeping together?” asked Leon.

“No, we’re not,” Gwilym said.

Your eyes found Andrew and Sloan. Both of them were glowering at you. You knew they were mad, and you were pretty sure you understood why. You just hoped they could understand too.

[the-hidden-writer]

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that lead up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Epilogue (1)

.Q.000000073.FS.M. D_01.15.1985_2153. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um, hi. It’s me. This is attempt seventy-three at getting this stupid thing to work, blah blah blah, etcetera. I, uh… miss you, wish you were here, all the usual stuff. Love you.”

“Maybe you should, perhaps, at least consider giving up? This is, as you said, the seventy-third attempt at a successful communication, and since it is taking up a considerable portion of your time-”

“No. No way. I’m not gonna give up now. I mean, you helped me build it! You’re seriously gonna let all that hard work go to waste?”

“That was not what I was implying. You could, instead, view the problem from a different angle.”

“Which angle, Enoch?! You think I haven’t done that already?! This stupid machine already has too many damn angles!”

“If you are counting the inner components then there are approximately-”

“Yeah, didn’t mean that literally buddy. But I guess you’re right. Like normal. Ugh... I kinda wish I’d properly thought about this before I- wait, did you hear that?”

“Hear what exactly?”

“D- there! That beeping noise. You heard that, right? I’m not just going insane?”

“I have noticed that you display multiple symptoms of psy-”

“Hold on, it’s still online!”

“Oh. It is.”

“It- It’s transmitting fine, recording smoothly, sound quality’s decent so remind me to fix that but… it’s working. It’s actually working!”

“Well done. But I do have to warn you that this technology should not exist on Earth in this time period.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Right, Enoch, I’m gonna need you to get out of here. This beautiful thing is finally working and I kinda wanna use it before it blows up or something.”

“Of course.”

“Uh… in private? Alone?”

“Oh, I understand. You wish to record your message alone. Without me. In that case, I will take your leave, Director Shaw.”

“See you, buddy. Right. Now I just gotta press thi-”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000074.FS.M. D_01.15.1985_2157. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Um… I… *ahem* This is a message for Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons. It’s a for-their-ears-only sort of thing, so if you’re not either of them then… uh… stop listening? No! Actually, if you’re not Leopold Fitz or Jemma Simmons, make sure this message gets to them. Please.”

“...I’m guessing this is Fitz or Simmons listening now. Hopefully both. Well, uh… it’s me! It’s Deke! I can’t believe I finally got this thing to work, haha. Uh… yeah.”

“So… you’re probably wondering what’s going on over here. SHIELD got blown up and- oh yeah, you guys were here for that. Or Nana was I think. It’s been a few years, I can’t remember exactly. Gotta adapt, y’know?”

“Speaking of! The second you guys left I might’ve accidentally become director of SHIELD. Which wasn’t my fault! I was nominated! Besides, I don’t know what was supposed to happen so…”

“Right, how am I sending this message. Funny story, actually. A few months after you guys left, Enoch turned up at my mansion and casually asked if he could murder me. Not our Enoch, by the way, this timeline’s Enoch. And he only wanted to kill me because he said I was this huge anomaly in the fabric of the universe and I could potentially doom humanity by just being here. Which sounds kind of dramatic, but nothing’s happened so far so I’m guessing we’re in the clear.”

“Basically, I managed to convince him that I was a good guy. I told him everything that happened and showed him my scars and everything to get him to believe me. And he did… eventually. He even helped me to build this quantum processor. Since this side is working now, I’m guessing it’ll work on the other end too. I’ve set it up to be like a mailbox that picks up anything that’s sent from the other end, so you won’t have to do the DNA-gene-splitting thing that I had to do to make sure it found you. You’re welcome.”

“It’s only audio for now. The 80s are great, but the technology sucks. And if we wanted to record video then I wouldn’t be able to buy supplies without getting asked about it. Equipment is expensive. Who knew. I’ll try and figure out at least how to send an image because I bet you’re missing my beautiful face.”

“That was the other thing: I miss you guys. It’s strange… I’ve spent most of my life on the Lighthouse and I knew a whole bunch of people there. Then when I came with you guys, sure it felt weird with them not being there, but I never really missed them. Probably because they came from that place.”

“But I miss you every day. Literally, every single day. And I love you. People look up to me here, but I don’t exactly have any family. I’ve got the Deke Squad, I guess, but they’re a different type of family. Not like you two.”

“So um, please send something back whenever you get this. I’ve set it so whenever you send something back, it’ll arrive here straight after I send the message you last listened to. I feel like I’m a time travel master now.”

“So I guess I’ll just… wait here. For your reply. Or just any sort of confirmation that you got this message. I’ll try and send you both a message at least once a week but it’d be great to get something back. I’m looking forward to hearing your voices.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000079.FS.M. D_02.15.1985_1623. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hey Nana and Bobo, it’s me again. Here’s the thing- it’s been a month. It’s been a whole month which is making me think that it’s something on my end. I’ll try and find the problem and fix it since I’d hate for your messages to get lost in that weird void between me and you.”

“But, if I’m gonna be honest, I realised that I don’t actually have any way of knowing if you guys made it back or not. Heck, I don’t even know if you managed to stop the chronicoms. And since I thought of that, I really can’t stop thinking about it, and it would really help if you could just let me know. Doesn’t have to be a whole message, just a yes or a no would do. You could even shout at me and I’d celebrate.”

“Seriously, if you’re all dead then… then I’m the only one alive. Again. I know I’m like 40 years behind you anyway, but it feels like the Lighthouse all over again! I got brought back from that and I felt like I’d cheated the system. Like- Like I didn’t belong, and I got out fine while everyone else stayed there and still had to suffer whatever’s going on up there. And this time I cheated because I’m the one who offered to stay behind and so I’m alive again while you’re all dead. I should’ve let Sousa do it, at least then I could’ve died with you.”

“No, no. You might be alive. You’re probably alive. I’m the one who’s… just send me something back. Please.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000000127.FS.M. D_04.13.1985_1829. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Nana, you won’t believe who invited me to a party! Pegs did! She was like, hey, I need you to be a distraction, you’re coming with me. Which is awesome because it’s like the first time she didn’t insult me in a sentence! Yeah… out loud that sounds kinda sad. But it means a lot to me, and I’m pretty sure you were a fan of Pegs or something? Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Anyway, so, we went to this party and she said that since SHIELD is safe enough to be publicly known again I’d need to meet some guy that would help with finances. So we’re at this party, and Pegs takes me up to meet the guy. I promise, all I did was introduce myself (I was actually trying really hard to be serious and polite) and I asked his name and Peggy lost it. She literally almost fell onto the floor, she was laughing that hard. Yup, you heard me right. Peggy Carter. Laughing.”

“The guy, Harry I think his name was? No, Howard. Yeah, Howard was his name. So this Howard guy looks super offended and asked me if I knew who he was, and I said no because I honestly didn’t, and then Pegs offered to buy me a drink. I know! And she didn’t even yell at me for calling her Pegs!”

“So yeah, that happened. Since then she’s been smiling at me? I don’t know what I did, so I thought I’d throw it to you two to see if you had any ideas. You can boast to your friends that your grandson charmed over the great Peggy Carter.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001032.FS.M. D_07.12.1988_2306. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hey Bobo, hey Nana. I’m kinda tired so I’ll keep it short today. The Deke Squad got an award today. It’s funny, I was so busy with SHIELD that I’d forgotten that we had that many fans.”

“Having a double life sounds fun, but trust me it’s hard. Ha.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001051.FS.M. D_10.22.1988_0642. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I finally finished my first original song! Are you proud of me?”

“Since we won that award, every night I’ve been having visions of Bobo shouting my head off that all I do is steal stuff. So since I’ve been messing with music for so many years, I figured, how hard can it be?”

“...It’s very hard. But! It’s completed, and it feels good that I can at least announce that to someone. Even if those someones can’t answer me back. But that’s fine.”

“The song’s called Alya, and it’s all about family. That was my Mom’s name, by the way. Alya. I can’t remember if I ever told you that.”

“If you want songs about you, then you’ll have to let me know, okay? Cool.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001132.FS.M. D_11.25.1989_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um… Hydra attacked. Big time. We beat them in the end, but we lost a whole bunch of agents. Joe was only nineteen and he told me I was his hero. They shot him in the head, I had to identify his body, and I... And that’s… that’s on me.”

“If only I’d taken that shot when Daisy told me to. I could’ve killed Freddy and none of this would’ve happened. I practically killed all those agents and I… Sorry. You don’t wanna hear this kinda stuff.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001193.FS.M. D_03.09.1990_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I’m guessing that you aren’t getting these messages so it doesn’t feel as weird to me anymore. And if you are… then I’m sorry you have to hear this. But you’re the only people who I’d want to hear it anyway.”

“Ever since they made me director of SHIELD, I feel like I’ve been faking my way through it. I faked my way through the Lighthouse, I faked my way into money and fame, I faked music for a fake band and I faked knowing how to be a director. I’m just… God, I’m just not cut out for it. People are dying and I can’t stop it. SHIELD needs an actual leader, not a fraud like me.”

“Peggy does a lot, but she’s got her own responsibilities to manage so I get the brunt of it. There’s a few super clever agents that can easily take my place.”

“See, I don’t wanna be director anymore. But if I’m not… I don’t know what I’d do with myself. I don’t have anyone here, I don’t belong here, and I- I’m just nothing when you strip away my lies. And I wish that was an exaggeration.”

“And you know the worst part of it all?! I don’t know whether you guys are even alive! I send you these messages every week and I put my heart and soul into them and they could be just disappearing into nothingness! Then there really is nothing!”

“So… just in case you are listening, I love you. You did so much for me, you gave me a chance when nobody else would. It’s odd saying goodbye to thin air, but hey ho. And if you’re dead, then I guess I’ll see you soo- WOAH!”

“DEKE SHAW YOU LOOK AT ME THIS INSTANT!”

“Hey- Hey, Pegs! What are you doing here?! G-Get out, this is private, this is my house what are you-”

“Shut your idiotic mouth and hand me that gun.”

“Peggy, I-”

“Hand it over, Deke. Now.”

“Fine, here. But listen-”

“No buts, Shaw. Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking?!”

“Director Shaw.”

“Enoch, not you too!”

“Oh. It appears we were just in time.”

“You’re bloody right we were. Thank you, Enoch. You made the right decision coming to find me. Now Deke, you need to talk to me, alright? Whatever’s on your mind. You trust me, don’t y- wait... what is that?”

“This? U-Uh, noth-”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001196.FS.M. D_03.14.1990_1903. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Pegs and Jarvis took me on a picnic the other day. Honestly, the number of times people thought I was their son was hilarious. It was like ten different people. You should have seen the look on Peggy’s face when this girl asked what it was like being a mom to the sensation that is Deke Shaw. I can’t wait for cellphones.”

“They remind me of you two, y’know. Pegs and Jarvis. You’re all super sweet and smart and determined and kind and they just really remind me of you. Well, if you were both super old.”

“...Don’t tell Peggy I said that.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001872.FS.M. D_07.17.1993_1108. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“They just invented Zima! I can finally stop pretending to drink! You guys should both drink it in celebration. It’s a big day for me.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001627.FS.M. D_12.17.1991_2157. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Howard Stark and his wife got killed last night. Peggy and Jarvis are broken. I didn’t know them that well since he kind of hated me, but I feel really bad for his son.”

“I think I might go pay him a visit. See if I can cheer him up. Trust me, getting orphaned suddenly like that sucks.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000001873.FS.M. D_07.17.1993_2351. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So, um… kinda embarrassing story time. I ordered like 20 crates of Zima, but I couldn’t wait so I went and bought one from the store. And, uh… I couldn’t stomach it. It’s been so long since I actually drank that my body’s given up on me just like everyone else. Which is fine by me, but…”

“Now I don’t know what to do with 20 crates of Zima.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000002309.FS.M. D_09.12.1995_1342. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“So some alien woman crashed into Earth this week. It was a pain to sort out, but I sent Coulson and some guy called Fury on the case. Fury has a cool name, but he’s a bit mean sometimes. I guess it’s fitting.”

“Oh yeah, I recruited Coulson. I decided to steer Mack towards more traditional engineering since I’m guessing he’d get sick of SHIELD. I got May though. It’s weird being older than them all and not being able to say anything.”

“Anyway, apparently the alien woman might be Kree? I hope not. I really, really hope not. ‘Cause if she is… well, something about this whole situation already rubs me off in the wrong way. Just… I didn’t wanna hear the word ‘Kree’ ever again.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000003295.FS.M. D_05.21.1998_2126. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“We broke up the band today. We had a good run. I wish you could’ve seen us perform at least once. Miss you.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000003995.FS.M. D_01.01.2000_0034. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Happy new year! We’re in the third millennium now so I’m catching up to you! Yeah, I know that’s not how it works, but a boy can dream, right?”

“I tried drinking again but it didn’t work out. Oh well.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000005617.FS.M. D_11.04.2008_1738. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Little Tony turned into a superhero. Iron Man, they’re calling him. I feel like storming into his house and yelling about how much danger he’s putting himself in. He could get himself killed, and then what’ll I do?!”

“...Is this how you guys feel all the time? I don’t like being the responsible one.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000010007.FS.M. D_05.30.2012_1519. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Coulson is dead. I- I killed Coulson. There were all these aliens that turned up and we had to try and get the heroes to work together and I asked Coulson and Fury to help a-and that bastard trickster killed h-him. I want to kill him with my bare hands.”

“The heroes teamed up and stopped the invasion. I d-don’t really know why. When I heard about Coulson I just locked myself in. Tony said they fought for me, but that makes no sense.”

“I just… I can’t believe I screwed up so badly. Coulson was supposed to have a good few years ahead of him! H-He was supposed to bring the team together! I’m too old for that now, and I’ve messed up. I’m s-so sorry, but I… Coulson’s dead.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000010015.FS.M. D_06.22.2012_1712. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“I’ve decided to retire from SHIELD. I really, really can’t do this anymore. Besides, I can barely sit up straight. Fury can take over. I just need time to think.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000132907.FS.M. D_01.16.2059_1712. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Getting old is such a pain, right? Dr Dunphy said my time’s starting to close in on me now, and that just sounds so weird to me. All my life I’ve been hopping through time and death just felt so distant. Like I was immortal or something.”

“Guess we know that’s not true.”

“Now’s as good a time as any to surprise you, then. Back when I first met Enoch, we built an LMD version of me. Surprise!”

“Ha, bet you’re not that surprised, are you. Especially you, Bobo. This quantum bridge is just about strong enough to let one person through. Only problem is that once that happens, there’s no chance of communication from either way. And plus I was running SHIELD back then, so I didn’t get the chance to get back.”

“So when I do kick the bucket, Enoch will switch it on and help me get to you. I know it’s a bad thing to say but… I’m really excited to die.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138056.FS.M. D_04.01.2061_0932. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Happy birthday to me… h-happy birthday to me… happy birthday dear De-eke, happy birthday to… to you.”

“I hope… I hope he has a better life than I had. Give Mom and Dad a hug from me. Do you think… my Mom and Dad will be there once I go? Does the afterlife have timelines? Ha…”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138058.FS.M. D_04.05.2061_1002. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Enoch asked me whether… whether I wanted my life memories or just my… 1985 memories. I don’t want that version o-of me to have all these memories. I don’t want h-him to know he k-killed Coulson…”

“Calm down, Mr Shaw. Try and make sense for your memoir, okay?”

“B-But then I wouldn’t be able to tell you the stories. There’s so many stories I want to tell you, so… he’ll use these memories. There were good times too.”

“I c-can’t wait to see you, Nana, Bobo. See you soon.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

~-.-~

.Q.000138059.FS.M. D_04.10.2061_1425. STATUS:[Online] [communication_input]

“Hello, Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons. My name is Enoch. I am a sentient chronicom from a planet that revolves around a star in the constellation you know as Cygnus. I regret to inform you that your grandson, aged 107, passed away this morning.

“As per his final request, I have sent an LMD version of Deke Shaw to what I believe is your timeline somewhere within a 10-mile radius of your location.”

“Goodbye.”

COMMUNICATION_TERMINATED_

STATUS:[Offline]

[jetblackpayne]

Dazed & confused

✧･: *✧･ﾟ: * 　*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧

summary: In which Arden Keaton (OC, half!witch, time traveller!from present) travels to 1984 to fix the timeline for the sake of her future. She’s left Dazed and Confused. BASED OFF RUELS SONG

warning(s): part of another series (aka i’m too lazy to write and wanna write this first), language, sexual situations.

a/n: this was rushed lol. lmk if i should change it to make it less choppy/spelling corrections. AND OR IF IT MAKES NO SENSE ILL CHAT YOU IN THE COMMENTS AND MAKE IT CLEAR!⚡️⚡️😁

key: italics = flashback

bold = arden’s thoughts

bold italics = others thoughts

✧･: *✧･ﾟ:*:･✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･: *✧･ﾟ:* :･✧*:･✧･ﾟ:*✧

PART i.

i.

Arden Keaton woke up with a sudden urge to vomit. Her head was spinning as her eyes began to well up with tears. What just happened? Why do I feel different? She woke up in Murder House as she normally would but something to her seemed off. What was once her bedroom coated in lilac walls and light carpeting against cherry wood floors was now white cracked paint and nails sticking out of the floorboards. More hazard, dangerous, and unkept then she remembered. What happened to this place? For some unknown reason, her mind kept trailing. She couldn’t call out for help or question to her family or to the ghosts why her room looked the way it did. She felt as though she didn’t belong. She couldn’t feel half of the souls trapped in this house as she did before. Her friends Tate not Violet we’re present. A pounding sound suddenly filled her ears from the thin walls echoing through the narrow halls. Her head snapped up in surprise as she walked out of her room. She walked along side the doors, attempting to feel some type of energy from the rooms. Her tracks stopped beneath of a room she had yet to explore, the attic. Her gaze travelled up the suspended ladder as her hands and feet hooked onto the ledge one at a time. When atop, her heart stopped when she found Nikki and Sam Argento, the two loudest ghosts in Murder House screwing each other like some sort of kinky ritual. The woman’s wrists tied to the bedpost in the attic as a knife trailed down her collarbone to cut the strap of her bra off.

Arden gasped. Her hands feeling weak at the sight. Arden felt her body draw from the only thing keeping her stable as she landed on the ground with a thud echoing throughout the house. The sound of meaning and pounding against the wall was silenced. The two stopped in thier moment with wide eyes, “Who’s there?” She heard Nikki yell from the top. Arden scrambled up and ran to the staircase trying to keep her footsteps quiet as possiable. Where is my family? She took out her phone to see her worst nightmare, ‘No Service.’ What is going on?

Arden deceased down the main staircase as quietly as she could. She didn’t know what was going on. She walked into what her family called the ‘family room’ and walked over to the television. Her head lowered as she started intensely at the picture box; goring almost with a palm stuck out. The TV began to flicker as the static became clear. Arden cocked an eyebrow in confusion, the signal usually was great; static was unusual for her to see. The televisions signal slightly cleared up with a grainy effect. *“James Keaton, a young man, age of 19, the youngest ever to graduate from MIT was at his weekly press conference last night. He had some shocking yet releaving information to share with the world.”* The women on the news channel spoke. Arden’s heart pace quickened hearing her fathers name being mentioned. This had to be some sort of prank. The bottom right corner of the screen made her heart drop; there was no way. June 13, 1984. She didn’t know what to think let alone say in this moment. Either I’ve seen the light, or i’m loosing my mind.. The channel finally cut to a new scene. It was her father when he was younger. Arden could distinctly remember the photos framed on the wall above the fireplace in thier old home and the ones mounted on the counters. She could have sworn she’d seen a picture of him in that exact moment. *He looked as if hewere glowing yet looked around at the press with a nervous glance. “I am the Iron man.” He spoke as the crowd went crazy. He then proceeded to sit down in his seat behind the podium. The scene cut to the woman again as she smiled, “Los Angeles has their very own superhero; and it’s James Keaton, genius, soon to be billionaire, also known as Iron Man. Clever name for a clever guy!* The television suddenly went black. Arden’s eyes glued on the void lingering in the still-air.

“What the hell are you doing in our house?!” Nikkis voice shouted from the top of the stairs. Arden’s heart dropped into her stomach as her mouth ran dry. The woman had on a silky bubblegum pink robe untied revealing her lingerie set to the teenager. Behind her was Sam. His arms crossed over his chest as he stood in confusion.

“I’m sorry.” Arden spoke, “I’m not supposed to be here for another 35 years.” Arden stepped over to the staircase placing a nervous hand on the railing. Even the words that came out of her mouth cane as a shock. How was she so calm? “You see it might sound crazy but I fell asleep in 2019 and woke up here in 84. I don’t know what to do.” Arden didn’t feel guilty telling them. They were ghosts in her present house and she was sure they would remember her. “I didn’t mean any harm but I don’t know what to do. My parents are my age.” The couple exchanged glances. Arden read into their minds only to be thinking the same thing, What the hell? “I know what you’re thinking literally it might sound crazy—”

“The amount of shit we’ve seen going on in this house, nothing seems crazy anymore.” Nikki cut her off offering her a small smile. She returned the gesture with a slight pink tint to her cheeks. The couple were still in thier underwear behind the masks. “You don’t look too harmful to me.” she smirked walking down the stairs, “What’s your name?”

“Arden Keaton.”

“As in James Keaton?” Nikki stood stunned.

“In like 18 years time.”

“Bitchin” Sam spoke now beside his partner kissing her temple, “That’s your old man.”

Arden cringed at the term. She gave them a fake smile and snickered playing along, “Yep.”

“Well Arden,” Sam spoke looking down at her small frame, “If you’re gonna be here anyways, you can stay with us obviously.” Arden’s body shifted in slight discomfort. She knew what this couple was known for and being in the midst of that would be disturbing to say the least. “Don’t worry, we won’t keep you up all night with our noises.” He smirked at his significant other as she nibbled on the exposed skin on his neck. He sucked in a hitched breath as his eyes rolled back with pleasure.

Arden’s nose scrunched up, “I guess.”

“It’s settled then!” Nikki smiled again her.

Something to Arden didn’t make sense. Sure considering it is her house in 35 years, she should stay but in thier present time, it’s not. Why would they let her stay like it’s normal? “I’m sorry,” Arden spoke catching them in mid makeout session, “Why are you being so nice to me? I mean I woke up here, told you I was from the future, yet you treat me like i’m not crazy?”

“Like we mentioned, we live in the Murder House, nothing seems too crazy for us anymore.” Nikki wrapped a lazy arm around Sam. They smiled at the girl.

“Well.. t-thank you.” She stuttered a bit shaken up from what she found out.

“You seem tense.” Nikki pondered looking at Arden’s figure. Her shoulders were broadened, eyes diverted to the ground, and hands folded in front of her. “You need to let loose and I know just the thing.” Nikki ran over to the small closet near the front door. Rummaging through the racks she picked out two very bright workout outfits. She slung the two pieces over her shoulders and popped one hip out. To Arden, the outfits looked like a cry for attention; a good or bad cry was still being debated. “Were going to the aerobics studio!”

Arden tossed the woman a small smile. Maybe this would be good for me..

ii.

Sam stayed behind while Arden and Nikki were off to the studio. When they arrived, they went thier separate ways planning to meeting up later. Arden was currently stood in front of a full length mirror. On her body was one of the outfits Nikki gave her. The top was a hot pink bandeau under blue striped spandex suspenders. A buckle above her hips strapping over her belly button. "What the hell am I wearing?" Arden asked herself looking at herself. Her back arched as she looked at the leotard basically up her butt. She twirled amd reached her hands over her head in a semi-seductive way, admiring her look slightly, but she’d never admit it.

"A sexy aeroba-fit that will make all the guys pop a boner." A voice remarked behind her. Her gaze followed it to find a girl in her 20s if not Arden’s age, smirking in her direction. Her hair looked like she dyed and fried it too much. Her was face caked in makeup. She had on a leopard print leotard on; underneath were black leggings paired with platform boots. Interesting. “Don't worry, i'm not a les," The blonde spoke as she smacked her gum against her teeth smirking, "Just friendly." She beamed, "I'm Montana Duke by the way."

"Arden."

“You got a last name, Arden?” Montana challenged narrowing her brown eyes to the girl who stood a good few inches taller than her. Arden would have found her intimidating if she were weaker than her. She knew that wanst the case. She admired Montana Duke for her assertiveness and confidence. There was no way Arden introduce herself to anyone here without feeling awkward of it.

“Ke-” She thought for a moment noting a look of curiosity from the stranger across her. She couldn’t tell the girl her name. After all her father was famous for his now exposed identity for being a superhero and whatnot. The only reason why she told the overstimulated couple was because they once lives in her house; she would know them once she got back to present time as who was once living. Thier souls embodied in the wall of Murder House. She had no idea who this chick was. She couldn’t possibly trust her even if she held a knife to her throat. “Kline.” She firmly spoke.

“As in Calvin?”

“Far descent but yes.”

“Can’t possibly be that far if you have the same last name babe.” Montana smiled as she grabbed hold of the girls hand. Arden tensed up and Montana felt it, “Now let’s go Miss. Kline. Don’t wanna be late for your class.”

“I don’t have a class set up!”

“You do now. I’m sure X would let you join if you’re with me. I can tell we’re gonna be very good friends.” And they were off to class. Arden was a little anxious but she didn’t know why. She wouldn’t remember these people in the long run so why should she care what they think of? The two girls stepped into the bright room. Montana let go of Arden’s hand and practically ran to A hunky blonde Ken-doll. His features, to her, mirrored an angel. His perfectly gelled blonde hair was held up with a lilac headband. His clothes were light as well. White tank top and lilac shorts. The matierial hugged his body well. Arden couldn’t help but bite her lip unintentionally. Montana conversated with him as his gaze suddenly turned to Arden’s, winking in her direction. His tongue ran over this pearly white teeth. He gave her a sly wave. Arden felt her stomach drop as he left cheeks flourished. Her hand went up slightly to give him a shy wave. He laughed a bit looking at her again, he admired her shyness. If only he knew she wasn’t THAT shy.

Pretty soon class started and a few more people to Montana’s taste strolled in earning a wave. Arden stayed close to the back with a brunette girl who introduced herself as Brooke Thompson. They made quick conversation being thier first time in the studio, except Brooke wanted to come. Arden came with Nikki’s suggestion; she had no idea where the woman was. That was far beyond her concern. The sound of Frank Stallones, ‘Far from home’ began to fill the small room. X walked up to the front and began to stretch. His arm crossed his collarbone hugging it with the other. Once again, winking in the girls direction. She smiled at him and looked to the ground. This was gonna be a long day.

iii.

Arden began to hum/quietly sing the tune to Hanson's, 'Mmmbop' as she exited the women's locker room. The Montana and Brooke, whom she met prior, trailing behind her. Arden walked up to the counter and ordered a mango smoothie when she saw three guys converting. She recognised them from the slimmercise class she took. One being the the instructor and the one Montana mentioned, X. The one who couldnt keep his eyes off of her. X stopped what he was saying to look at her. He stared at her body licking his lips as his friends began to check her out. Arden sighed as she saw the hungry eyes melt into the back of her head. She began to read the filthy thoughts they had of her and shuttered. "You know it's not polite to stare." Arden turned around flipping her hair over the shoulders in the process. Batting her eyes, she took a sip of her smoothie. Where did this confidence come from? The boys stood there speechless at the sudden accusation; which happened to be true.

"I'm sorry sweetheart." X spoke as he stepped in ground of her. His perfectly structured jawline sharpened as he smiled at the girl. She couldn't help but blush at his gesture. He stuck his hand out to her, "I'm Xavier." He spoke as she looked at his hand. She finally knew what the letter stood for. "This is Chet and Ray." He motioned to the two other muscular guys behind him. Arden looked down at his empty hand and reached out for it. She brushed her hand against his smooth one to give him a gentle touch. Without warning, her mind clouded as her vision became blurry. She saw Xavier in a park with a needle in his arm. His pants soaked with his own urine. His eyes puffy from crying. Why did he let himself get like this? Just then a man came up to him and talked to him about the film industries he's worked in, "I could make you a star. With a pretty face like that, you could reach big places. And i'm gonna help you get there." He placed a hand on his inner thigh; groping is ever so slightly. "Trust Daddy." The man smirked at the broken man in front of him. Xavier nodded as he helped him up. Arden gasped as she stumbled into his arms. His smirk faltered to a scared expression. He snaked his arms under hers in a deadlift as her weight shifted onto him. He lifted her body over to the couch and looked around to see if anyone had seen the incident unfold. Nothing. The people in the lobby passed by doing anything but looking in thier direction. Chet, Ray, Brooke, and Montana rushed over to the couch as a drop of blood seeped it’s way down her drained face. None of them knew what to think.

“Good going man,” Ray said placing a hand on her shoulder wiping the dropping blood down her nose with a napkin from the counter, “You broke her!”

“Piss off!” Xavier exclaimed to his friends accusations, “I didn’t do anything. She grabbed my hand and went down. Then again most girls do.” Xavier and Chet shared a smirk.

Brooke rolled her eyes at thier childish behaviour. A girl just passed out in front of them and thier connecting it to thier hookups?

“That doesn’t explain why her nose is bleeding.” Montana spoke catching thier attention. They shook her off focusing on the limp girls body on the couch. What were they to do?

“Did you squeeze the poor girl too hard?” Chet asked.

“No fuck-face.” Xavier looked down at the girl. Her eyelids twitched slightly as her mouth parted. She sucked in a shaky breath as she opened her eyes slowly. The light from the ceiling blinding her. She hissed as she sat up and held her throbbing head. Xavier quickly sat next to her, taking her small hand into his large one, "Are you alright? Can I do anything?”

Her cheeks tinted as his simple gesture made her heart flutter. “Sorry about that.” She replies sheepishly

“Never has anyone in my class faint before.” He smirked at the thought. He leaned his body on the pillow her head was once on; elbow propped up holding his head in place looking up at her, “Guess you could say you ‘fell for me.’”

“Ugh,” Montana groaned and rolled her head back in annoyance, “Give me a break.”

Arden laughed at her remark. Xavier looked at her a winked at her making her flourished cheeks heat up more.

° :.  *₊ ° . ☆ ✮ ° :.  *₊ ° . ☆✮ °:.*₊ ° . ° . •°:.*₊ ° . ° . •

taglist: *based on reblogs/votes on this mini series*

@arkhamren @lourdlangdon

[catnip-smuggler-radio]

Have you ever made any characters that you really liked but never went anywhere?

You bet your sweet butt I have!Shoot.  So, I’ve been rping in Realm for like six years.  First time ever rping in really any medium actually.  My first character was a Garlean bomb maker but after about two years and major life events both IC and OOC, I lost my ability to headspace him well and tried to make a new ‘main’.  What followed was about a year of me flailing around as I tried to find a new character I wanted to play.  I made around half a dozen or so during this time.  Three are throw aways not worth mentioning now but I did make three good ones that sort of failed for different reasons.First major character I was considering sticking with was a Bounty and Void Hunter named Hojo’to Zuginoch.  He was alright but for some reason I just never clicked with him despite him being a solid character. However his creation lead to ultimately my most important creation:The Voidspawn Rhyme was created to be Hojo’s main antagonist.  Rhyme has been a staple of my plots for awhile now but since I couldn’t have Rhyme as a character in game, I had to make some that could wield him and thus we get our third character: the mad miqo’te necromancer named Crate.Here, we find my most important character during this transition.Crate became a linchpin between all my old characters as well as a sort of prototype for Tray.Crate was, is actually since he’s technically still alive, a short, blonde, egotistical maniac that partied hard and enjoyed creating chaos for the sheer sake of fun.  He was actually a delight to play and had some fairly serious play and even several player antagonists.  He even has one of my all time favorite posts I ever did on the RPC.  Ill post that below if anyone is interested.He was a stinker.And there in dwelt the problem.He had no balance.To play him properly meant, well, I had to be willing to literally find moments to cause chaos constantly. And a few times, when in the middle of a scene, Crate would de-rail the scene by acting in character and causing problems.  Like one time he started a bar brawl by harassing someone’s husband and basically ruining a bar night an FC was hosting as it devolved into like ten people fighting. Memorable and funny but impacted others RP and thus it was hard to establish connections with him outside of the antagonist sort of relations.  I stuck with Crate the longest during that year of transition but eventually realized I needed a more toned down version of his antics and eventually brought some of those -party boy- traits to Tray, but on a more balanced scaleSo, Crate was a very important experiment for me.  He taught me the need for balance in my characters, and that being true to a character is awesome but not always good for a -main- since you want a main you can get rp with. LOL.He hold a special place in my heart.Now, as promised, here is the copy/paste of that scene. BUT I’ll put it below a cut since this is long enough as is. ((Thank you very much for the ask!))

The restaurant had once been a high and well to do establishment, nestled comfortably between massive building that towered up to join the rest of the Limsa skyline. But that was no more. Now the renowned restaurant had fallen to the wayside and clung to its former glory as best it could. Few, if any one of any upper class status now came here and even fewer working class figures came here due to the still extraordinarily high prices the menu claimed the food was worth. But despite all this, a lone figure sat at a table; his mouth chewing veraciously on a mouthful of meat. On the table before him was a pile of dirty and used plates, cups, bowls, napkins and silverware; all crusted with food.

The young looking miqo'te that called himself 'Crate' tore another chunk off of his sandwich and chewed, his ears ringing with the loud music pumping through the two, custom built linkpearls that were inserted into his pointed ears.  He was small and sickly looking and dressed in robes that were several sizes too big for him.  For a Seeker, his flesh was a disturbingly pale and his blond hair was a puffy, tangled mess.  His twin, black eyes looked over the sea of food that awaited him and he kept eating. In truth it was amazing that a, well, boy whom looked like a strong wind might blow him over, could consume so much

For the past three and half hours Crate had been sitting at the table, eating and keeping the flames in the kitchen burning hot. The thin, young man was enjoying himself immensely, though the restaurant staff was growing tired. Crate swallowed a chunk of food, his throat bulging as the wad slid slowly down, his body shaking wildly to the instrumental beat that pulsed into his ears. He was about to take another large bite when a figure tapped his shoulder and he spun around quickly, his eyes gazing up at a tall man dressed in a fine suit. Crate beamed a smile at the newcomer. The waiter moved his mouth to say something but whatever he had said was lost as the music’s roar.

“What?”Crate yelled, forgetting that he was the only one hearing the loud noise that was coming through the pearl. The waiter, slightly startled by Crate’s outburst, took a moment to recompose himself before asking again. Again, Crate couldn’t hear any thing and shouted as he stuck the last piece of the sandwich into his mouth.

“Sorry!” Crate yelled. “Still can’t here you!” The waiter brushed the showering of crumbs off his suit and pulled the pearls out of Crate’s ears and handed them to the miqo'te.

“Hey now!” protested Crate, his mouth still full of food as he snatched up his linkpearls. “I was enjoying that.”

“I am well aware of that fact.” came the waiter, who was doing his best to hide the edge in his voice as he spoke to the young man.

“Then why’d ya go and pull it off like that?” whined Crate as he swallowed; his eyes bulging slightly and a smile covering his face. “Could have just asked.”

“I tried,” the waiter paused and decided best to just move to the matter at hand. “Anyway the cooks are taking a break, so I’m going to need to ask that you pay your tab now and leave.”

“And what if I’m still hungry?” Crate inquired, his eyes wide and pleading. The waiter looked at the mountain of plates stacked up before him and raised an eyebrow.

“If you are,” muttered the waiter. “I’ll need to send you down to med hall for examination.” Crate burst into hysterical laughter and leaned back in his chair, his left arm slapping the waiter good humoredly.

“Well I guess I can call it a day then. But I’ll be back later.  After all, I'm eating for more than just me!” Crate finished speaking and then calmly let himself fall backwards, his chair hitting the ground. As soon as the wooden chair hit the marble floor, Crate used the inertia created to roll backwards and rise to his feet. The waiter stood, staring at the spectacle. “Well thanks for the grub. Laters.”

Crate was already halfway towards the door when his field of vision suddenly became consumed by a small sheet of white paper with a very large number attached to the bottom. The waiter cleared his throat.           

“Your tab.” and after a moment, the Waiter added sarcastically. “Sir.” For a moment Crate could only stare at the number, his smile falling slightly.

“You sure that bill is mine?” chuckled Crate, his eyes twinkling suddenly as an idea crept into his blonde haired head.

“Without a doubt.” replied the Waiter and Crate didn’t miss the hint of triumph in the voice.

“Well then.”Crate paused and looked over at the bar. “Since I don’t think that’s my tab, I’m going to challenge you to a little drinking game.” The young man was already over at the bar and seating himself on a stool, his eyes running over the various liquids available. “Here’s the game. I bet that I can empty one glass of milk before you can drink two shots of any liquor you choose. I win, the tab isn’t mine, you win and I’ll do all the dishes for you, plus pay the tab.” Crate turned back and looked at the stupefied waiter. “Sound fine to you?”

For a moment, the man in the waiter’s suit could only wonder at the ridiculous statement the boy had made. This was absurd! But Crate gave a cough and the waiter thought. If he was too lose, his boss would take it out of his hid for losing all the money. On the plus side, it would be wonderful to see this boy put in his place for once. Besides, there was no way Crate could drink a large glass of milk before he could drink two shots. So, with a bit of a strut, the waiter climbed behind the counter and looked Crate right in the eyes.

“You’re on.”

“Excellent.” was Crates response and he watched with feigned interest as the waiter began to fumble with various cups. Crate was not surprised when the biggest glass he had ever seen was placed before him, the milk right up against the brim. The waiter then placed to shots of Brandy on the counter and the two glared at each other like a pair of gun slingers.

“I trust you’re ready?” sneered the waiter.

“I guess.” replied Crate, a yawn escaping his lips.

“Then, go!” the waiter had already seized the first shot and had thrown his head back, the brandy hot on his throat. His other hand was already fumbling for the second shot when he felt something cold and wet hit the flesh of his hand. He looked down and saw the tall glass upside down and the milk flowing all over the counter and dripping off the sides onto the floor. Crate had already left his seat and was heading out the door.

“Hey!”shrieked the waiter, his face a mask of utter outrage. “Just what are you doing?”

“Um,” came Crate, sticking his head back through the door. “I won the bet sooooo I’m leaving.”

“You did not! You didn’t even have a sip, you only spilt the glass. You lost” shouted the obstinate waiter.

“No,” came Crate again, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I won, see the bet was I could empty a glass of milk before you could drink two shots of liquor and from where I’m standing, that glass looks pretty empty.” The waiter stared in shock, the realization of Crate’s words hitting him like a hammer. Crate shrugged and flashed the waiter a wink. “See you for dinner!” And with that the young man was gone, the door closing with a triumphant slam.   The waiter paused a minute, his brain still processing what had transpired. Suddenly he came to life and ran for the door after Crate to force him to pay. The waiter burst into the street but by then, Crate had disappeared in the crowd.

Among the throngs of people, the small miqo'te weaved, slipping his linkpearls back in, the music playing again as he grinned to himself.

"Crate."  the small male blinked as his master's voice spilled over the comm and he waved his hand.  The music stopped and he lowered his voice as he smiled.

"Ah, there you are, my dear master. Was wondering when you would be contacting me."

"I apologize for the delay." the sultry, female voice replied back.  "There have been some issues.  But things are progressing."

"So the prison is weakening?" Crate inquired as he ducked down a side alley.

"Slowly, but we need more help and William's coven was just butchered."  

Crate stopped to stand, stupidly, as he pulled out a toothpick and began to pick roast beef from between his teeth.

"Well, shit. That's a set back."

"Not entirely." the female voice answered.  "One of the voidspawn managed to find an old friend of mine from Kerhiem.

Crate blinked.

"Tornel?" Crate answered at last as he flicked the tooth pick away.   "He's in the asylum I...oh!" Crate nodded eagerly, his mop of hair shaking.  "You mean the sexy collection of metal and muscle. Mhmm I've missed that delicious morsel."

"For a creature over a hundred, you certainly have the drive of a young man." the female replied.  Crate laughed.

"Blame the hormones in this body.  Now then, I take it you didn't call to tease me with a good time."

"Not at all." the female chuckled.  "I need you to get to Tornel before Hojo'to does.  As much as it pains me to say this, I need Tornel removed from this world."

"Axing off an old lover and a useful pawn.  Man, this is urgent."  Crate twitched his tail.  "Can't you make him kill himself via the hex on him?"

"He's warded from me." the female replied. Crate grunted at that.

"Great, gotta do this in person. Alright, I'll start packing and have it done quick as a couerl takes a shit.  Or as quick as a virgin man comes"  Crate snickered impishly.

"Crate." the female voice added, ignoring the miqo'te's lewd statement. "You are not to tamper with his soul or reanimate his body.  A clean death."

"Excuse me..." Crate laughed. "Is that a soft side to you I'm seeing?   Never fear, it'll be clean, Master. Nice and clean. I'll be in touch once its complete."

"Expect to be checking in with Terbia's coven once done. Now that William is a splattered ruin, her organization remains the most efficient means at drawing out the voidspawn at a reasonable pace."

"Your will be done Master."  Crate heard the line go dead.  He waved his hand and the music resumed.  

"It's a good day." Crate grinned as he began to head back towards his hotel room, excited.

[razorblade180]

OC test:Memory lane

Each person is placed in a room with two locks on it. One will be opened by sharing a precious memory, while the other gets unlocked by a sad one. No tricks or gimmicks to get out.

Yujin:Well this is an interesting test; making people open up just to get through a door. I might as well start with the hard part then. When I was nine I ended up getting a fight at school on my birthday. Me being basically motherless was no secret to anyone and always made things awkward. A presentation on the huntsman of our choice was due that day so naturally I chose my dad; it was a no brainer. Most kids chose their parents or a legendary huntsman from our history books. So when one of my classmates did his entire project Yang it caught me off guard.

Yujin:For what had to have been only ten minutes, I sat and listened to him do nothing but praise her; going into detail about how she’s one of the best. Telling the entire class that she’ll be there to help no matter what. Without warning I stood up and started yelling at him; telling him how wrong he was. “She can’t be around to help her own kid! How could anyone consider her the best?” What really made me lose it was his response. “Maybe she has more important things to do?” Looking back, I don’t remember those words holding any malice. That didn’t stop me from breaking his nose right then and there. *tensing up*

Yujin:When I say dad was mad, he was furious. We must’ve yelled back and forth for hours when we got home. To the point my voice started to give out a little; whinnying about how he could still possibly love a woman like her. Trying to convince him that she would never come back to us, to him. It must’ve worked for a second because the shouting stopped. My bratty self thought I’d finally won the argument; all I did was make him cry. The man that has done so much to fill the void; the one I dedicated an entire presentation to. Was crying because I tried smothering what little hope he must’ve had left. *sniffling* I hugged him tight without a second thought and sobbed as I apologized. That was the day everything sort of changed for me; the day I realized I hated mom.

*one lock snaps off*

Yujin:*shaking her head* Okay, time for the happy stuff! I don’t even have to think hard about this one! There’s a convention that happens every year that always has amazing things for aspiring huntsman and awesome guests on panels. When I was 11 I was super excited that I finally got a chance to go and it just so happened that year my absolute favorite up and coming huntress was attending! Her name is Lilith and she’s just, everything. People compare her to Pyrrha Nikos since she’s such a prodigy and winner of multiple regional tournaments. I’m like two years younger than her and just admire her personality. If I had to pick a role model around my age it’s definitely her.

Yujin:Anyways, I unfortunately caught the flu the day of the convention and had to miss it. The entire time I was in bed snotty and crying over it until Tenzen sent me a video. That joker never once mentioned to me that he got invited to the convention because of his rising internet fame, so when I saw that he sent me a video with Lilith wishing me a speedy recovery I actually almost died. Not only that, he got her to sign some merchandise for me with personal messages. That alone was enough for me but afterwards he came over and told me he recently unlocked his semblance. Tenzen managed to convince my dad to let me out the house that night and I got to experience just how fast he could run at the time; felt almost like a roller coaster. I swear that boy never ceases to amaze me. *blushing* To this day he’s always looking for me and trying to get me to smile.

*second lock snaps off and she walks through slowly.*

Tenzen:Bad memory? Well I can’t pick a specific event but I can easily choose a time period; the first four years following the attack on my parents. My mom bounced back physically from it in almost no time at all but my father.... his damage was all but completely crippling. A lot of broken bones, bruised organs, and broken back. He couldn’t do work anything to the fullest anymore so he just....shut down. There were days I didn’t even see him because didn’t get out of bed. Worst part of it all was I could tell how bad he wanted to not feel the way he did but couldn’t. It tore my mom apart to feel so useless and it’s pretty rough for me to see both of them just exhausted; maybe that’s why I try staying positive and hopeful. Trying to make up for years five to nine. Thankfully things got better which I guess brings me to my happy memory.

Tenzen:One day there was a dancing contest in Vale with a cash prize. Thought I’d help pay for some medical bills so I got to practicing in secret. I came in first place surprisingly and immediately rushed back home to surprise them. I didn’t expect him to ask me to perform it so I was a bit taken back at first. *chuckles* both of their jaws dropped when they saw me do their dance routine from their time at Beacon. The rest of the day was just filled with different music and cheers as I treated them to a live concert basically. After that things just slowly started changing; I got more serious with dancing and also started training. Who would’ve thought an old dance routine was the answer to making my dad feel like himself again.

*both locks snap off easily and he walks through happily*

Jacquelyn:Oooo so I have to tell a story to get out? No problem, a lot about me has been shared already but there’s definitely some good highlights that haven’t been really explored. *blushing* This is gonna sound really cheesy but I think one of my best memories is Adam saying he loved me. It was a couple years after Salem had been beaten. During that time I still had wavering beliefs if he’d actually stick with being reformed; there certainly was time where it almost felt progress was about to slip away. However, after a certain incident happened and the arrival of Jael all that anxiety melted away. I can still remember his smile when he held her close and told me. After that I knew he’d be okay; that we will be okay. Bad memories are easy. Becoming a maiden and the destruction of my home.

*door opens and she calmly walks through without a second thought*

Sienna:Getting adopted is by far the happiest memory I have. I finally felt safe in Jacquelyn and Adam’s arms after where they found me. *ears fold down* the time I spent before that was very.......

Her face goes cold as her mouth dries out. She just slowly starts nodding and thinking; almost like she’s entered a trance.

Sienna:Painful, it was very painful both physically and mentally. C...can I go now please?

*the locks pop off and she exits the room; still a bit shaken up.*

Jael:Happiest memory is perfecting my version of the moon slice. Dad wouldn’t teach me so mom taught me in secret. Not really the most touching thing I suppose but it just makes me feel closer to him somehow. Even though he still doesn’t know. I have my fair share of bad memories too though. If I had to pick one... it would be the day I realized just how bad my heart condition really was. I always thought the major drawback was hindering my physical performance in anything I do; I was wrong. There’s this girl back where I live that I’ve known about two years now. She’s the only person who’s not afraid to speak to me that’s my age. Actually, she’s one of the only people that speak to me at all. We’ve gotten close, really close...*blushing*. It’s pretty obvious that I like her but it’s not healthy for me to be around her too long. My heart literally can’t take it; I tried kissing her once and almost ended up unconscious on the floor. Pure emotions aren’t a luxury I can’t afford to have. If I truly try to live in the moment, it might just be my last. This life I live is....hardly living at all.

*The doo unlocks but she doesn’t leave. Instead she leans against it, taking a moment to think*

Nick:Winning my first competition with Summer was a pretty great time. It was sort of like our debut to all of Atlas; showing them the Schnee’s are as strong as ever. I don’t ever think I’ve seen mom so proud of the two of us. Visiting Summer in the hospital after lake incident is the worst of my memories. I was...scared one of those visits were going to end horribly. I still don’t like hospitals.

*door swings open as he rushes out*

Summer:Nicholas would think I’m insane but his hospital visits are some of my most cherished memories. We always argued as kids but those visits were proof of how much he cared about me. If anything had to come out of that tragedy then I’m glad it was that. First day of combat school was a living nightmare for me though. *tensing up* we had to get changed into our combat gear and it was the first time I’ve ever been in a locker room. All the girls stared at my scars when I started to undress; gasping and showing grossed out expressions. It got so bad that I dropped out of the class for a year. Eventually I just powered through it but I’m still not comfortable with showing my skin. It’s the reason I’m always wearing long clothes.

*She waits for the doors to open before briskly leaving*

Valerie:My life is pretty boring honestly. I’m pretty sure anybody else has a much better memories. I good memory I have is my mom staying up with me all night the time I broke my arm. The numbing medicine wore off and the pain got really bad. She distracted me from it by just keeping me company until I passed out. I don’t really have bad memories....frankly I have a hard time even feeling important with how talented everyone else is. Almost like I’m dead weight.

*the locks surprisingly accept both responses and the door cracks open. She pushes her way through.*

Lucas:Best memory, writing a book. Worst memory, activating my semblance.....

*and just like that he was out of the room. No words or movements wasted what so ever*

Girl:....... *sits down and leans on it* Sorry, I don’t feel like opening up to something that’s supposed to open for me. Guess I fail this test; not that it matters. Can’t win them all; just ones that matter. *goes to sleep*

[mianite-3-unofficial]

Surprise

Tom spent the whole day wandering, trying to get his bearings, and, when he got bored of both, playing a game with a few of the cities children. It was a strange game, but even though Tom lost almost every single round, it was fun. And, the children appreciated his over-competitiveness. To him, it seemed like a wonderful, safe town.

Which is why he was so shocked when he entered the Cinnimon Grove Inn to see Andor sitting at a table, staring him down with a cup of tea in his hands. That wasn’t shocking. What was shocking was when he sat down, and Andor whispered, mindful of how very late it was-

“You’re in danger.”

Tom laughed.

“What? Why, I haven’t destroyed anything. Yet.”

Andor groaned, the same sound he made back in the void, when Mot used brute force to get Andor to shut up. In Mot’s defense, they had all been trying to sleep.

“Tom,” Andor said, “it’s not about you, it’s about Dianite.”

“Uh, what about him?” Tom said with a laugh. Andor sipped his tea.

“Worshipping him is taboo here,” he said after a long sip, “and I’m scared that Rha heard you talking about, you know, being Dianite’s Champion. Even if he didn’t believe that, seeing your wound just... heal in a flurry of red? That would raise some suspicion. He’ll think it was Dianite’s doing.”

“Well, it was. Scar turned into a cool looking symbol-thing.”

Andor blinked.

“Thomas, if you’re fucking with me, I’ll beat you senseless.”

“I would never fuck with you! Thats, like, the universes job. Not mine.” Tom paused. “But what about Jericho and Sonja?”

“What about them?”

“They worship Mianite! And Mot worships- no, is literally in love with Dianite! And- oh, holy fuck, Dianite’s Dianite!”

“Tom- Tom,” Andor begged, gingerly placing his hand on his shoulder, “You need to calm down. You don’t want anyone to find us.”

There was a beat of silence. 

The air around them shifted. A man in a fine robe suddenly appeared. Jericho was limp in his arms.

“Ah. Just the people I was looking for.”

Andor fumbled for a weapon, coming up with nothing but his broken boomerang. Meanwhile, Tom had fallen off his stool and was screaming bloody murder, trying desperately to escape. The man just sort of stood there.

“Uh. You two Jericho’s friends?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Andor shouted, holding the boomerang.

“I’m Gijsbert, Jericho’s friend. He, ah, kind of exhausted himself,” he explained. Tom was still screaming, more out of shock than real fear. He quieted down, eerily sudden, mouth shut. Gijsbert lowered his hand.

“He’s not a quick learner, really, but a passionate one. Poor thing wore himself out, wanted to keep going-“

“So you killed him?” Tom shrieked. Gijsbert looked a little shocked.

“No? I knocked him out. How’d you- never mind. When he wakes up, tell him he can come over to the library whenever he wants. I’ll keep his books on hold.”

Gijsbert set Jericho on a table, and without another another word, he was gone with a flutter of robes.

Tom stood and rushed over to Jericho, Andor still thrown off by the sudden disappearance. Tom shook him awake, desperately. Jericho groaned, eyes fluttering open.

“Oh, holy Dianite, thank fuck! I thought you were fucking dead Jericho! Fuck, are you okay?”

Jericho awkwardly smacked him.

“Stop yelling, Tommy,” he begged, “My head’s killing me.”

Tom sighed with relief, wrapping Jericho up in his arms, hugging him tight to him. Jericho returned it, loosely returning the hug.

“Where were you?” Andor asked, putting away the boomerang.

“Library,” Jericho slurred, “So I can be magical. I’m not allowed to do the magic here, though. Ladia’d kill me.”

Tom looked at Andor, who shrugged.

“Well,” Andor asked, “You’re okay, right?”

Jericho nodded against Tom’s shoulder, slumped against him.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tom whispered, “I’m supposed to be the stupid one.”

Jericho laughed.

The sun was starting to rise outside, yellow and promising of a beautiful, new day.

[adorkablegaybies]

The Language of Gems

A Steven Universe Theory By ME! TL;DR at the bottom

Have you ever wondered what language the gems are actually speaking? Did you just take for granted that Steven Universe is a children's cartoon so 'of course everyone can understand each other!'? Well I have a theory for you, one that I believe makes decent sense within the Steven Universe world.

I propose to you that Gems do not actually 'speak' as their native language (Native- as in the language one learns naturally from birth before any others). Instead I theorize that Gems as a race instead use a form of Short-Range Radio Waves or some form of short-range telepathy to speak with each other. Now before you start nay-saying hear me out, I actually have some canon content to work with as evidence.

So as we know, Gems are not organic beings. They do not need to eat, sleep, or breathe, and can withstand extreme temperatures depending on their Gem. So then, why would a race that does not need to breathe have any reason to form lungs (which requires either shape shifting or regeneration to change their form) in order to develop a language? Oh, no doubt they were quick to pick up on the languages of other intelligent species as they conquered the galaxy if only to make things easier for themselves in the long run, but they would have little to no need to do so before that point (This does not presume that Gems are a created Race who over threw their creators but even then their language would be vastly different).

So then with that in mind let me bring to your attention some canon details.

1. The first thing that brought this thought to my attention was during the episode "Bubbled" when Eyeball Ruby and Steven are floating through space. 

Despite there being no atmosphere (which Science says you need to produce sounds such as talking) both Steven and Eyeball are able to talk and hear each other with Eyeball remaining outside of the bubble Steven has produced. Assuming that Steven's bubble is capable of producing the amount of oxygen he needs to survive inside of it, this would not provide nearly enough outside of it for Eyeball to create actual sound at volume within the void. So then how can Steven hear her? My first thought was Radio waves which are known to travel unimpeded through the void of space, and which can cause some crystals to vibrate at certain frequencies. (Feel free to fact check this part as I'm unsure whether all crystals are capable of vibrating when exposed to various sound frequencies but know that some can). The second thought was a form of 'telepathy' utilized by gems who create physical forms out of light.

2. The second instance that brought this to mind was in the "Human Zoo" arc, in which very much modern human Greg was kidnapped by Blue Diamond. 

The first thing that got me was that both Blue Pearl and Blue Diamond were able to communicate with Greg without difficulty. Both being able to understand and be understood by Him after 5,000 years without setting foot on the earth. (I'm assuming this is the case, though if she had come to earth to grieve at the palanquin I can also assume that she was likely undisturbed during those times as what sane human would approach a giant blue woman instead of running away?)

The second thing was at the Human Zoo itself. There are several instances here that made me begin thinking about this theory in depth. The first being Holly Blue Agate and her responses to Steven, along with the 2 Amethyst guards who take him to be processed.

Holly Blue hears Steven speaking and comments "OH, their incessant barking. What is it saying?!... Oh, there it goes again with its hilarious noises." as if she either cannot understand what he is saying, or is hardcore choosing to ignore what he is saying in the same way we might ignore someone we find annoying.

The Amethysts also remark that 'Heh, these newer humans are so spunky.' in response to Steven yelling at them to let him go. It is unclear whether they actually understand the words he is using or simply his body language as he is squirming around and shouting.

Now between these instances and the start of their escape, Greg and Steven encounter the Zoomans. Humans who are descended from the ones taken more than 5,000 years ago by the Diamonds. English did not exist 1,000 years ago, and there is no way that the Zoomans and Greg should be able to understand each other with such ease when it is highly likely that Greg only speaks a few phrases of any other language beyond that. So how then could they possibly be able to communicate without more than a few small problems so instantly? 

I bring up the earrings they are all wearing, and that both Steven and Greg were equipped with upon entering the Human habitat.

These little suckers are Gem Tech, and more importantly in my mind, likely the product of some overzealous era 1 Peridot who was told to find a solution to the humans fighting with each other. Because let's be honest, humans are naturally inclined to dislike anything different and this is especially true the further we go back in history. So we have a Zoo filled with Humans of different skin colors, languages, and tribal cultures suddenly being thrust into contact with each other and unable to properly understand each other. They fight each other and they fight the Gems who come to 'help' them. 

In comes that Peridot who goes 'if we make them all the same they won't fight anymore' and so they all wear the same exact clothes. They still can't understand each other and refuse to behave so the same Peridot goes 'I'll make a translator so everyone can understand everyone, and I'll make it tell them what to do too! It'll solve everything!' so she does and it works like it's supposed to, the humans can understand each other no matter what language they use to speak and suddenly all the Gems can understand them as well without having to put any effort into learning or retaining a new language. 

So once they Greg and Steven are given the earrings and enter the zoo, suddenly they seem to be understood by all of the Zoo gems and the Zoomans, as well as being able to understand them with no real difficulties. The Famethyst and Beta's seem to have no issue understanding Steven after they have been 'apprehended' but Greg doesn't say more than a single line during this time. In fact no other line is spoken by either Universe male to another Homeworld gem for the rest of the episode. But...

The Diamonds. The Diamonds arrive at the zoo and have what they believe to be a private moment together which includes a full on song about feelings.

This instance right here is why I really think that the gems use either radio waves or telepathy, because tell me this. Why would a Diamond, Matriarch of her people, thinking herself to be in the company of only another Diamond (Pearls don't count) sing in a language that Greg and Steven could understand? Now sure, the Gem Tech Earrings could be translating, in fact it's very likely. But there is no way the Diamonds would be speaking in anything other than their own Native Tongue during this scene.

3. Now for the biggest piece of evidence, the episode "Off Colors". In which both Steven and Lars have escaped the Diamonds and are on the Run on the Gem Homeworld. This is where they encounter the Off Color Gems and what really gets to me is how Lars and these Gems who have been hiding in the catacombs for 'eons' can both understand and be understood by each other.

Lars has no reason to be able to understand Gems who have never even been to earth in their entire existence, let alone have them understand him in return. So why can they? Steven is very likely the answer there, as he was raised to speak the English language, and more than likely is naturally able to interpret the Gems language both by instinct and by exposure over time. (I also theorize that Gems are able to learn at super accelerated rates and Steven being half Gem grants him some of that ability but that's a whole other issue). So at this point he could be translating unconsciously until the other off color gems pick up the language, or...

Gems have built in language translation capabilities. Their bodies already automatically adapt to the gravity of any planetoid (Ep It could have been Great) so why not automatically learn to understand languages of the sentient species you encounter? It does make sense when you think about it, but they are no longer speaking 'their' native tongue they are instead speaking in a foreign language.

4. A few other instances that pop up in the series and add to this theory. (In no particular order)

-Bismuth being able to speak and be understood by Steven inside of Lion's Mane (a place where there is no air)

-Bismuth being able to understand Steven only second's after being brought back from 5,000 years of being bubbled.

-Lapis understanding Human language after 5,000 years as a mirror and being able to use it to communicate within an hour.

-The literal usage and understanding of words shown by Peridot who was likely not given any reason to learn the language before her first encounter with Steven over the screen in the kindergarten but was still able to speak with him without issue.

-Steven being able to communicate with Centipeedle enough that she could understand him, despite being able to verbally speak to him.

Basically, language is complicated and changes constantly so when Gems and Humans can understand each other immediately without issue we know there is some sort of Alien chicanery going on behind the scenes. My vote is for the short range radio frequencies because they do not require atmosphere, can be picked up by multiple sources within range, and Steven as a half-gem is canonically shown to be able to understand them in these instances. 

What do you think? Is it plausible? Am I completely wrong? Are there parts of the show that I missed that agree with me? That disagree with me? Either way, thanks for taking the time to read this post.

TL;DR My Steven Universe Theory is that Gems have built in language translators and use short range radio waves to communicate with each other as their native language.

[starkxsarcasm]

Meta...ish...sorta

So I have debated writing about this for a while, because it will no doubt be polarizing for a lot of people, but with Infinity War about to come out of DVD,Blu-Ray and that good stuff and having seen a bunch of gifs surrounding this, I feel comfortable stating my thoughts. So just take it how you will and if you agree or disagree, that’s totally fine. But here it goes.

I have such mixed feelings about Tony/Pepper.

Allow me to explain, for this is not a new thing. In fact, I’ve felt this way since the first Iron Man. So let’s start from the beginning.

Iron Man 1

When we are first introduced to Pepper, I was 100% on board. She was classy and sassy, took no shit from anyone and was fiercely loyal to Tony. 

I mean, look at this power girl. She knows Tony has important shit to do and can’t be bothered with awkward breakfasts or underhanded remarks from “Miss Brown” here. So, in the most classiest way, she basically tells her to GTFO, bitch. I loved it!

And then there first interaction. Oh my god, the cuteness!

Like, look at these two! They’re so cute! Pepper being the studious, responsible one, reminding the man-child Tony of all the stuff he has to do, all while Tony playfully flirts with her. Adorableness personified!

I mean, most of them in this movie is just so heartwarming! Tony hearing Pepper call his name while he’s being tortured, Pepper having cried when he came back, the little bicker they had when Tony wouldn't go to the hospital, how she stood by him even after he shut down his weapons manufacturing division when it would’ve been so easy to jump ship, the fun interaction with her helping change his arc reactor. I mean, guys, they were on a roll with this! I loved it!

Then came the first point of contention.

When Pepper finds out what Tony is doing, she tries to stop him and even tries to quit. Now I gave her the benefit of the doubt here, because what Tony was doing was kinda crazy. This was all before SHIELD and the Avengers, so him deciding to just superhero it up was obscenely dangerous. And, to her credit, she listens to him when he explains why he has to do this and does eventually help him download the files and stop Obadiah. All in all, this film was a great set up to their relationship and I so wish it continued on this path. 

But alas, it did not. Then comes Iron Man 2

Iron Man 2

Okay, I’m gonna try not to rant too much on this one, but honestly, this part kinda gets me heated up. So, us as the audience are privy very early on to the fact that Tony is dying from palladium poisoning, spelled out by JARVIS who says, “The device keeping you alive is also killing you.” So like, whoa, holy shit! What’s Tony gonna do now?

So, in comes Pepper! Right off the bat yelling at Tony for donating their art collection.

Okay, fine. That was probably frustrating after all the time Pepper spent curating it, but...does she even stop to question why Tony is doing that? It’s clearly out of character, or else she wouldn’t be so shocked and mad. Remember, this is supposed to be one of the people who knows Tony best and yes, Tony hides his emotions and thoughts really badly, but this is a blatant sign that something is wrong. But her first reaction is to shout at him? Okay, that’s not gonna get him to tell you what’s going on. At all. If anything, it’s gonna make him retreat farther into his shell. 

And another thing that kinda peeves me is she only chills out when Tony promotes her to CEO. Okay, yeah, huge promotion anyone would be happy about, but did she just forget that Tony is acting super out of character? That something might be seriously wrong?

Then the bit where Natasha/Natalie comes in and they sort of fall back into the goofy, cuteness argu-flirting during that scene, so I’m kinda like, “Okay, we’re back on track!”

Then...The Grand Prix

No, no, I’m sorry, but I’m with Tony here. What the hell was he supposed to do? Okay, being in the race was a last minute, reckless move but was he just supposed to run away? Let Vanko cut up more cars and hurt more people? Uh, no. That’s not who Tony is. People were in trouble, he wanted to help. And he gets yelled at for it.

Then the plane ride home.

Ding, ding, ding! Hello! I mean, does this guy need a giant flashing neon sign that reads “I’m not okay”? He is clearly acting super off in this scene, not wanting to go home, wanting to “be healthy” in Venice. He is practically holding himself back from completely losing it in front of her, and she doesn’t even notice? Okay, aftermath of a battle, nerves are frayed, I get it. But come on! It’s plainly obvious!

Hell, the first person Tony opens up to isn’t even Pepper, it’s Rhodey. The guy who realizes, “Hey, Tony is not okay. Let’s put aside all this bureaucracy BS for one second so I can find out what’s going on with my friend.” And him genuinely caring about that let’s Tony open up. Hell, he shows Rhodey the burnt out palladium. And yes, later they fight, but he trusted Rhodey in that moment to let him see him at his weakest.

I’m gonna skip the party scene a bit because I can honestly see both sides. Sure, Tony is acting a bit like a jackass and Pepper is tired, but again, this is still another red flag she just doesn’t catch.

And then the scene that really had me questioning this ship real hard.

Again, I get it I really do. She is frustrated and overworked. We’ve all been there But she doesn’t even try to listen to him. This is Tony Stark we’re talking about, a man who knows how to talk about his feelings about as well as a fish knows how to fly. And here he is, trying to explain everything that’s going on, stammering over his words and trying to explain his side and she just cuts him off, like nothing. This isn’t even an argument at this point, this is just shouting louder than someone else and refusing to hear them. This scene really rubbed me the wrong way. Tony doesn’t have anyone else at this point. Rhodey’s gone, his house is a wreck, Fury is just cryptic. He needs someone. And she just shuts him down, because she’d frustrated. Like, that is just so low to me.

But okay, the movie goes on, they have the battle at the Expo and Tony saves her. Got it, got it. Cool! The interaction on the roof was cool and the kiss was cute, but honestly...it was just more bickering? And the kiss, the more I think about it, doesn’t seem earned after all that’s happened above. 

But okay! Maybe things will be better next movie, right? Wrong!

Iron Man 3

Now, I’m largely skipping The Avengers, because their interactions are limited and, for the most part, kinda cute. Even the little bicker with the 12% comment was kinda light and funny. They really did have nice interactions, cute moments of flirting and it even kinda made me sad that Tony couldn’t connect to Pepper before flying into space. Overall, I have no problem with them in the Avengers. 

That’s not the case in Iron Man 3.

Now this section is largely gonna be void of pictures and too much ranting, because I’ve already gone over my least favorite scene in this meta here: http://starkxsarcasm.tumblr.com/post/169317464612/musings

But I’m still gonna touch on some things. 

Okay, but for real. Can someone explain to me what the fuck is going on here in this scene? Like, honestly. I’m lost. Pepper has just told Happy she’s been batting Killian off with a stick for years because he’s constantly asked her out. I think all girls can relate to that one guy who just won’t take no for an answer, so when I heard her tell Happy this, I was like, “Go, girl! Be that strong woman!”

But oh no, Killian’s turned..hot?! (I used that term loosely, because to me he looks like a bag of unflavored corn chips) But...seriously?! Because he’s cleaned up a bit, you’re suddenly all taken aback and all like, “You look great!” Girl, this was a creepy guy, creeping on you creepily for years! Now you’re letting him touch you and be all flirty without kicking him in the nuts?!

I’m totally on Tony’s side here! He has a right to be jealous, if this is how she acts towards some creep who got a five dollar makeover! To her credit, she turns down his proposal, but then acts all flustered and blushy when he leaves. What the hell, Pepper? What happened to that power girl who told “Miss Brown” to kindly fuck off?

And then the subsequent “I can’t sleep” through “Tinker with that” scene which....*deep breath* Yeah, if you wanna know my feelings on that, read the above linked meta post, because talking about it more is just gonna make me angry.

And, even after all that, even after Tony plainly explains he is not okay, the next scene with Maya is literally just Pepper taking potshots at Tony, calling Maya an “old girlfriend” and arguing with him about all that’s been going on. And yes, Tony was dumb threatening the Mandarin. Yes, Pepper has a right to be freaked out. But honestly, when is enough gonna be enough? He is trying to do the best he can, while also suffering from PTSD. Shouting at him is not going to help! I don’t know how many times I can say that before it sticks. Then the house collapses and she thinks Tony is dead and it’s sadness all around. She gets kidnapped again, Tony has to save her. Fast-forwarding because, again, I largely have no problem with these scenes. I even kinda like the “I got you.” “I got you first” line. 

Then, when Tony finally does come to rescue her, first thing she does is call him a jerk. Um...okay? You’re welcome? He just fought through hell and back to get to you, but sure, “jerk” works, I guess. Then the mad scramble for Tony to go and get her followed by thinking she’s dead. Again, no problem with this bit, but that may be due to RDJ’s phenomenal acting during it, because damn, he sells it. 

And then boom! She’s alive and we get some fairly cool kickass bits from her before it all settles down. Now one line that has always bugged me is the “And all your distractions?” Distractions? Like Tony said at the end, his suits are not distractions, they’re cocoons. When is she going to realize that? Also, no, “So are you going to get help for your PTSD and nightmares?” Nope, just “distractions.”

Not gonna go into Civil War, since Pepper isn’t in it, but if anyone wants to hazard a guess as to why they’re taking a break, *gestures to above text* take your pick!

And now for Homecoming and Infinity War

These I’m combining because the problem I have with the relationship now bleeds into both movies and here it is.

Is it just me or does Pepper seem bizarrely disinterested in marrying and having a family with Tony?

Think about it. When Happy pulls out the ring, she gets this look on her face like, “Uh, excuse me?” That may be from the fact that Happy had been carrying it around so long, sure, but then when Tony tries to defend it, she’s all, “I can think of something better.” Um...ouch.

Then in Infinity War, the line, “If you wanted a kid, you wouldn’t have done that.” Speaking, of course, to his new arc reactor. But...what does that have to do with anything? Pepper, after all this time, is still riding Tony’s ass about being Iron Man and helping save the world and her, and is holding the fact that he wants a kid over his head, almost in revenge. Like, “Well, you chose this, so no kid for you!” And she constantly shoots down talks about a kid and the wedding and just....did you take the ring or not, honey?! What is your issue?

Again, I know this will be polarizing for people, and you’re not stupid or wrong if you like the ship, but guys, I’m gonna be honest. I’m kinda just over it. It started off with such promise and just degraded into unpleasant arguments, ignoring when Tony needs help, and constant “yes, no” backs and forth conversations. 

It’s just not a fun ship for me anymore. I wish it was.

[fangirlingpuggle]

Crog Eva AU- Reveals and Races

Hey here’s part 4 of Crog Eva AU Takes place in Will to Win

Vea is furious, Toros has gone too far.

Way to far

Not only had he destroyed her trident, disobeying the Imperium to be the pilot, destroying her communication devices so she couldn’t report to the Imperium or contact her father

And all that he’d done to Aikka and Rush.

He was violent and unstable.

Crogs may be warlike but they also had order and laws.

They had rules and morals, though they may differ from other species.

But what Toros was doing, it was wrong by all those standards.

And Eva was done.

She was taking her position back.

 Even if it meant helping the Earth team win.

And that made her feel sick to her very core.

She didn’t really have a problem with Rick, she’d talked to him a few times and even accepted after she broke his ship their initial races agreeing that he’d been cocky, underestimating her, he was …nice. Vea didn’t bemoaned helping him.

It was the fact this would help Don Wei that made bile rise in her throat.

 But she had to do it.

 She had to stop Toros.

 This was her only chance, she had to stop him here on Alwas because if she didn’t even slip into the finals and be untouchable.

 By Kramm would she let that happen.

 Even if it meant tearing off her masks revealing herself as biologically human.

 She heard all the shocked gasps around her as she pulled them off, and she pushed down the horror at the fact they all knew.

Rush knew, he’d hate her now she knew…she’d realised talking to him he didn’t know who she was, she’s glad he told her about Byrus, she’d not known just how ruthless Toros was, her father had only told her he’d been utterly brutal far more than was needed, setting a wildfire to do the job that a candle could do.

And Aikka…Vea can’t even look, he hates her she knows, he knows now and he’ll despise her. After what Toros did she’s not surprised, that he’d been treating Nourasia like that. They’re meant ot allies not hostages or slaves. Alliances are new for the Crogs yes but this is not how to handle it at all. She curses whoever on the Imperium let Toros have a say in the process, after this she’s going to have to ask her Uncle Iokois to look into it, he actually knows about diplomacy, he’ll sort it out.

That is if she survives, she can still see the blade in the ground out of the corner of her eye.

To the death.

 She keeps staring at Toros, his arrogance and confidence is radiating off of him.

Everyone’s still whispering, chattering staring at her.

She doesn’t pay attention to them.

Toros laughs “well well looks like the little pretender finally reveals her true traitorous colours you little human”

Vea bares her teeth and stands tall “I AM NOT HUMAN, I AM A CROG AND I AM THE PILOT THE IMPERIUM CHOOSE” she points at him “AND I WILL COMPLETE THE MISSION GIVEN TO BE EVEN IF THAT MEANS…WINNING FOR THEM”

Toros shifted “you won’t win you’ll die helping a hopeless cause don’t worry though” his eyes crinkled in dark amusement “all your human kin will be joining you soon enough”

She kept meeting his gaze the judges were stuttering someone out clearly lost on what to do

The 2 of them turning away from each other walking towards their ships

Well Vea walked towards the earth team’s ship, she’d only flown tridents for years she knew the disadvantage she was at, but this was also like the ship her mother had flown. She still remembered how it worked.

She wouldn’t lose

“WHAT THE HELL?” came the voice of the gunner Jordsomething she couldn’t remember

Vea glanced at him as he moved between her and the ship while Rick just stared at her wide eyed

“Like hell your flying OUR ship you…I don’t even know what you are!” the boy stumbled out “there’s no way a human would help the Crogs so I you’re the one who destroyed our ship before just NO you’re not flying it”

Vea glared at him “well who else on your team will fly it” she gestured to Rick whose arm was still bandaged the boy faltered looking between them “ I will win this for your team just get out of my way”

Rick was staring at her intently

“If she doesn’t race she forfeits the challenge automatically” one of the aliens in the stands called out to them

“It’s a death challenge the loser will die if she doesn’t race then..” another called out

The earth team both jolted staring at her in shock “are you kidding you…”

“I won’t lose” she snapped looking at Rick, the man met her eyes before reaching up ripping out the communicator in her ear turning it off and Vea could hear yelling on the other end before he did

“Go” he nodded towards the ship, Jordan that was it, moved out of the way and Vea ran past jumping in staring at the controls trying to remember all of them

She saw Jordan begin to move towards the ship also but Toros just laughed “I don’t think so boy, the challenge is between me and her no one else”

The humans gaped in rage and the crowd began chattering loudly

“It’s fine” Vea said firmly cutting off the protests she knew the humans were going to start yelling out “that’s how this works besides I don’t need guns to beat him”

She could feel rage radiating off of Toros at that comment

There was a moment of silence between the earth team “…do you know how to fly it?” Rick trailed off looking concerned

Vea nodded “don’t worry about me”

“You’re literally in a race to the death with a guy whose never lost in a ship you’ve never flown with no weapons” he chocked out

Vea smiled down “well he’s never raced against me before” she nodded down at them “thanks” she said before manoeuvring the ship to the starting point

She could feels eyes on her but she didn’t care, she tore open the control panel, ignoring the shouts of shock and offence form the crowd and earth team, instead she began moving wires around first silencing the radio and remote commands, she didn’t trust Don Wei and the rest of the earth team before starting on more important things (she remembered how the ship had worked in their race, their boosters had been impressive but maybe if she altered power flow to their then she could maybe, also removing powers from guns she could rework it to yes that would work)

She worked quickly, like her training for emergency repairs in crashing ships or during combat, Uncle Hoorus and Uncle Vox had taufght her the quickest ways to assess and rework all types of Crog ships, it was a similar principle with these ships just a little more.

She heard Toros’s yell “Start the race”

Petty asshole she thought to herself

She could hear the judges and crowds displeasure, but she heard the countdown begin

That was ok nearly

DONE.

She hit the power just the signal to start came barley closing the top of the cockpit in time.

But she speed on after Toros

She wasn’t going to lose.

  She was pretty sure the earth team wouldn’t be to pissed at her for upgrading their boosters as she activated them during the race speeding past Toros with a satisfied smile in place, tactically she should undo her work after the race, though that would be a dick move….but leaving it would help Don Wei.

She cut her musings off she saw Toros power up and she felt offence bubble up really, he was trying to cut through the ship, use her own move against her.

Vea just smirked and waited til the last moment before putting the ship into a spin.

Easily avoiding that move and using the momentum to toss his trident off course.

He was underestimating her, of course he was, he always had.

And now it would cost him dearly.

  The finally stretch was really just a game of chicken, the boosters of the earth ship were keeping pace with his trident and it was just who blinked first.

The thing is her Dad always said she’d stare death in the eye without flinching, and apparently she won’t blink either because he stopped first, she speed through, barley twisting out of the way of his speeding Trident and skidding to a stop.

All she could her was her own breathing and her heart beat in her ears adrenaline coursing through her blood stream.

She let herself smile, she won.

She beat him.

Letting out a laugh of shock she exiting the ship

Trying  not to the feel the hunderds of eyes on her.

She leaned moved away from the ship, she wasn’t sure what to do now she needed to call the imperium, to contact her father and her uncles and

“You” a dark rage filled growl echoed out and she spun to see Toros charging at her sword on hand “PATHETIC HUMAN” he screttched

Vea heard gasps and cries in the crowds but spun reaching for her dagger only for a flash of movement to stop her.

A black hand held the sword blade in places

The entire stadium was silence as the void of space

In front of her stood her father cape billowing behind him eye narrowed glaring at Toros in pure seething ice cold hatred.

Toros said nothing eyes wide

“get” Kross began “away” he continued as he forced the sword from the others hands “from” he reared back his fist “my” he punched the other in the gut sending him flying back “DAUGTHER!”

Vea smiled in relief, she hadn’t been able to contact him in days she’d had no idea what was happening with him where he was she felt the grin break her face and without thinking she throw herself at him arms his waist as she cried out “DAD!”

She hears the crowd erupt in a chorus of voices confused, shocked, offended she’s not sure.

Her dad’s here and for a moment

She lets herself not care

Thanks for reading =)