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insomniamamma · 4 months ago

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Needles & Pins: Tattoo Artist! Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

A/n: written for @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs challenge! Thank you, Mayor El, for planting this seed. I am currently mulling over a tattoo much like the one described here.

Warnings: Angst. Talk about failed marriage. Reader is an empty nester. Reader has grown children. Mentions of self harm scars. Blood. I have tattoos but it's been decades and I've done a bit of research to figure out the current state of it. Any inaccuracies are on me. And yes, Pedro's red devil Met Gala look was my inspiration for tattoo artist! Ez.

A bit of flirting. It is Ezra after all. But mostly gentle fluff.

A chain of bells on the door jingles as you push your way through, briefly glare-blind from the sudden dimness, green afterimages from the sizzling sidewalks, air-conditioned cold hits hard, and you stand, blinking and foolish as the girl behind the counter sizes you up, wild mullet of bleach-blonde hair, face set and disproving, black lacquered nails and ears spangled with golden studs and bars. “I’m sorry— I’m a bit early, I can come back—“ And she smiles, big and open and wide-- “Oh, heck! You’re the tardigrade lady! Ez did a bunch of sketches. Lemme go grab him-“ and she rattles her way through the beaded curtain behind the register and disappears “Ezra! Your three o’clock is here—“ A co-worker had recommended Needles & Pins when you’d admired her ink, a half-sleeve magpie with a skeleton key in its beak and constellations drawn behind it like an old map. It’s in Secret Springs. That’s kind of a haul. Yeah, but Ezra’s one of the best in the business. You’ve got plenty of PTO piled up. You’re just gonna lose it if you don’t use it. You could get out of here for a bit. Yeah, maybe. And Moira gives you a pitying look. You both know the chances of you using any of that PTO are slim. This last year and change has been a rollercoaster ride, your youngest graduating summa cum laude and fucking off halfway across the country, some job at an aerospace start up that you can’t even begin to understand, but she seems happy, and the vice-gripped, duct taped, cobbled together thing that your marriage had become finally shat out. I love you, he’d said, but not the way you need me to. And on that humid night, watching heat-lightning flicker through the clouds, you say nothing, just nod, because he’s not wrong, the two of you have been holding on for a long time, for the kids, for appearances, and it’s like unclenching a fist. Kept it civil, he let you keep the house rather than selling it and splitting the difference, moved back home with his brothers and his dad, still talk about once a week, mostly about Lilly and the boys. Married so young that you never learned to be alone. So you throw yourself into your job, because if there’s one thing you know how to do it’s press your shoulder to the wheel and shove.You and Moira laugh together, but when you get home you start researching Needles and Pins and Secret Springs, tiny state park with campsites and trails, bracketed with BNB’s and small shops, strange gerrymandered artifact, small strip of beach that hasn’t been subsumed by hotel chains and timeshares. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been on vacation, the last time you’ve done anything for you and no one else, and you’ve e-mailed Needles and Pins almost without thinking. Why not? Why the fuck not?

Appointments only. No walk ins. High end. Serious inquiries only. And part of you balked, new to this possibility, had your ears pierced at Claire’s when you were twelve or so, and you’d felt stupid when you sent the e-mail off with some images attached. Sorry to bother you. What a lovely idea. Water bears and fireweed together speak of resilience. The awakening of something new after a time of trial. There are species of pine that require the heat of wildfire to dry out their cones enough to spread their seeds. I would gladly meet with you to discuss this further. And that’s how you ended up here, in this air-conditioned cave, narrow space full of framed flash art and old maps and framed photos of Ezra and the girl behind the counter, C? Sea? You didn’t quite register her name, flustered by the cool dark in contrast to the blazing heat outside. “No need to yell, Birdie, I’m comin-“ Ezra rattles through the curtain. Broad is the first thing you notice, loud is the second. He is a confusion of color, heavily inked arms and a Hawaiian shirt bedecked with flamingos in sunglasses, spangled ears and a gold ring through his lip, bright shock of blonde hair amid his unruly curls. Smiling bright and wide, “Hi there,” he says, purred southern drawl, and offers his hand, “I’m Ezra.” “I figured,” you say and take his hand, warm fingers around yours and then he folds his other hand over yours, and you see that his right hand is an elaborate prosthetic, his whole arm up to his shoulder, gold on black, a fearsome dragon framed in blooming orchids. You barely have time to register this and Ezra is ushering you through the curtain. “I am guessing by your demeanor that this is your first tattoo,” and you smile, but can’t quite meet his eyes, his hand finds yours again and squeezes gently. “I’ve got several sketches based on our initial discussion, but i want you to know up front, if the art is not to your liking or if you change your mind about this entire venture I’ll not judge you for it. “But the deposit—“ “A formality. Tends to keep people who aren’t sure of themselves away. I will never ink someone who isn’t fully committed, if you decide this isn’t for you i will refund you. No harm no foul. No pressure, clear?” “Yeah. We’re clear.” Ezra smiles, dimples sinking into his scruffy cheeks, eyes crinkling into crescents. “Excellent,” he says, “Let me show you what me and Cee came up with.”

“That one.” A tardigrade drawn in the traditional style, brilliantly colored in blues and greens with bold outlines, with two crossed fireweed fronds in watercolor. “This is an approximation-“ says Ezra, “I will replicate the colors as best I can—“ “That one.” You say, “I like the hard and soft together.” “I do as well,” says Ezra, “I must admit that I was hoping you’d choose this design. Strength and softness are not mutually exclusive. I should warn you though. Watercolor tattoos tend to fade a bit faster than the more traditional styles-“ “Sunscreen and plenty of it” you say, and he smiles. “That’s right, and A&D ointment as you heal. There’s plenty of fancy tattoo healing ointments to be found but A&D has always got me through. Why fix what’s not broken? We’ll send you home with some instructions.” He takes the sketch you’ve picked out, “Hey, Cee! Can you finagle the scanner-“ Cee pops her head and arm through the beaded curtain. She grins, devilish and sharp like a crescent moon. “Old man, still can’t figure it out, huh?” Takes the sketch from his hand. “Oi! You are but a humble apprentice,” says Ezra, but he smiles, “An initiate! A novice even!” Cee smiles back. This seems like an exchange that happens at least three times a week, and you feel yourself smiling along with them. “Get her prepped. I’ll do the hard part.” “That girl,” he mutters, “You take a seat right there—“ He gestures towards a set up that looks uncomfortably like a dentist’s chair, “Cee has my station set up, I just need to glove up and we’ll talk placement.” “Left inner arm,” You frown. You’d said so over e-mail. Can’t help but watch the flex and bend of him as he pulls a shoulder length veterinary glove over his prosthetic, and then gloves his left hand, “It’s a bitch to take apart and sanitize. I can if needs be, but best to avoid all of that. I cannot exactly autoclave this thing. And I find the calving glove less unwieldy than Saran Wrap-“ “Wait a sec, Saran Wrap? Like on a plate of leftovers?” Ezra dimples at you. “Exactly like that. First time Cee witnessed it, she laughed so hard i thought she might drop dead right there on the spot. Next morning there was a case-pack of calving gloves on our front stoop like some sort of-“ “It’s Amazon, Ez, not witchcraft,” says Cee, popping back through the curtain with a sheaf of papers, shoots you a knowing can you believe this guy look, “You’d be lost without me. Just admit it.” Ezra takes the papers from her. “Go on now, don’t you have fanfic to read? What’s that Star Wars thing? Reylo?” Cee’s face scrunches in a cartoonish display of disgust. “Man, I never should’ve told you about AO3.” And with that she’s gone. “Your daughter’s really something.” “She ain’t mine,” says Ezra, leafing through the stack of prints Cee handed him, draws a pair of reading glasses from his front pocket and perches them on his nose, “I don’t have that honor. Her parents kicked her from the nest and she found her way here.” He holds two of the prints in front of his face. “Show me your arm.” And you offer him your left arm, hand turned palm up. He cradles your arm, runs his gloved fingers over the thin skin there, noting the network of silvered scars, like contrails in a hazy sky, because how can he not? Old enough to be flattened and flush with the rest of your skin, no one’s noticed in years, but you know he must and you tense, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t, just selects a printed sheet at holds it up to you arm. “This the orientation you want?” “Yeah, I want him standing on my hand. Um, Ezra, the scars-“ “won’t be a problem, darlin, they’re old and soft-“ “I’m not gonna screw up your handiwork,” you say, and he folds your hand in both of his, gentle pressure that grounds you and when you look up at him, his eyes are soft. “I know you won’t,” he says, “You wouldn’t be here otherwise. We can rewrite this part of your story. I trust you.”

Ezra preps your skin, alcohol wipes and mild soap and he shaves your inner arm with a disposable razor, rubs some gooey stuff on you that makes you think of putting on aloe after a burn. Gotta let this dry a beat, he says, we want the stencil to come out nice and clean, rests his hand over yours while the transfer solution dries, got to let it get tacky, he says. Not quite holding your hand but not letting go either. “I should warn you, the bit over your inner wrist will likely be the most painful,” swipes his hand over your skin, testing the resistance against his glove, “Skin’s thin there. Not a whole lot of meat between the skin and all the veins and little fiddly bits.” “Fiddly bits,” you echo, and feel yourself smile, “You mean the bones?” “And tendons,” says Ezra, clips out the stencil. “That looks like carbon paper,” you say, and Ezra grins, “It’s functionally the same, but Cee insists that the thermographic printer makes cleaner stencils than the old methods, so here we are.” He lays the sheet of paper over your arm, rubs at it with a balled up paper towel, “We want the transfer solution to soak into the paper. It’ll leave the stencil behind on your skin. There’s some tricks involving deodorant, but i find this method works the best-“ you can’t help but notice how pretty he is, face pinched in concentration, pout of his lips, those dark eyes focused on the strip of skin between your wrist and elbow like this bit of you is the only thing in the universe. “—hey! you still with me?” “Yeah, sorry. What did you say?” “You got a hotel room for tonight? It’s not by business, but i know you’re not local and getting tattooed blows a surprising amount of adrenaline-“ “I’ve got a room booked,” you say, “Up over Peli’s.” “Hope you brought earplugs,” says Ezra, “That place can get a bit rowdy on a Friday night.” “I’m counting on it,” you say, “It’s been forever since I’ve gone to a bar.” “Hmm,” he rubs at the transfer paper, “Do you feel your skin tightening a bit? We should be just about ready. I’m gonna click the gun on for a beat so you can hear it.” “I’m not scared.” “Didn’t say you were.” says Ezra, “I find this tends to go easier if people know what to expect. This buzz and my endless yap are going to be filling your ears for the next few hours-“ “It’s not bad. The tattoo machine, I mean.” And Ezra grins, slow curve that just hints at a dimple. “My Ma always said my tongue is hung in the middle and wags at both ends. If, at any point in this venture, you need me to shut the fuck up do not be shy in saying so,” his face falls, eyes flick away a little, “There’s one more thing before we peel this stencil and get on to our business. I will need to stretch your skin, to make sure the lines are nice and clean, and for that i must rely on this foolish thing.” Ezra catches you around your wrist with his prosthetic hand and squeezes slightly. “I do not have the sensitivity nor dexterity that i once had,” he says, “I have some haptic feedback, but it’s not the most reliable. If I grip or pinch too hard, you sing out and I will manually adjust the pressure.” So focused on your left inner wrist and the tracery of your skin that he startles, flinches when you reach for him and grip his upper arm, brief squeeze and then gone. “I trust you.” His eyes widen for a second, and flick away from yours. ‘I suppose you do. Else you wouldn’t be here. Let’s get a good look at these lines before we get to fencin’.” Ezra peels the transfer paper up and you feel the pull of it, dark purple lines printed on your inner arm. And that makes it feel real.

You’re going to walk out of here with something like a story in your skin forever. “The fireweed—“ “I know. The stencil lines are just there to keep me from going too loosey-goosey,” says Ezra, “That being said, how would you feel about some slight splatters? So the stems do not rise so harshly from the water bear’s back, perhaps a bit darker than the color of the fireweed. Something to really make this little fella pop.” “Dark. Like a dark purple fading up into the pinks.” “Yeah? What do you think?” “I like it,” you say, and you feel yourself grin wide, and Ezra’s smile mirrors your own, “This is gonna be so fucking cool.” “It will,” he says, those dark eyes bracketed in delighted crinkles, “I’ve got you, darlin. We’re gonna make some magic.”

It doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, and you tell Ezra so, and he smiles, bent over your arm. “Everyone’s pain threshold is a bit different,” he says, “You are squirming very little for your first ink.”’ “I was in labor with my oldest for twenty three hours. This doesn’t even register.” “The linework is usually worse in terms of sharp pain,” he says, “The color and shading tend to be more persistently annoying. Like a shirt collar rubbing on a sunburn.” He has a light on a swing arm like a dentist uses, framing him in a bright halo as he hunches over your arm, catches his curls in bright filaments, the scruff of his cheeks, slope of his neck, breadth of his shoulders. Sharper pain as he touches the crease between wrist and hand, bracelets of fortune, you think they’re called, draw your breath in a sharp hiss, little hooked curves of the tardigrade’s claws. “Breathe, sugar, you’re doing just fine. Worst part’s nearly done.” His eyes flick up to catch yours, warm soft and magnified by his glasses. “And I really must know. what’s your favorite dinosaur?” “Deinonychus,” you answer unthinking, “Dromeosaurs are pretty cool in general, but Deinonychus is my favorite.” And you smile. Knowing exactly what he’s doing and thankful for it. “The raptors in Jurassic Park were actually Deinonychuses. Modeled on them at least. Actual velociraptors are turkey-sized.” Ezra smiles up at you, perfect plump lower lip bisected by a gold ring, damn he’s pretty, and nothing hurts at all. “Huh,” he says, “And here I was thinkin you were a T-rex girl. S’pose that’s what i get for making assumptions.” “Well you know what they say about assuming—“ “Indeed I do. My mother was very fond of whipping out that particular turn of phrase.” He stretches your skin so he can get the tardigrade’s odd little mouthparts just so. “What’s your favorite?” “Favorite what?” The curved, segmented back takes shape. “Dinosaur. You can’t just ask someone that question and not answer it yourself.” Ezra stills for a beat, and then the needle starts up again, line sloping down to meet up with a hook-plated foot. “Ankylosaurus.” he says. “Really?” “Sure. Mother Nature took a cow, a snapping turtle and a panzer tank and stuck em in a blender and then tied a cinderblock to the end of it’s tail. What’s not to love? Hmmm,” he swabs at the beaded blood and oozing ink, “Hard part’s done. How about a little breather?” Ezra stands and stretches like a lazy cat, rolls his neck side to side, heads for the refrigerator, tucked in the corner and plastered in stickers, punk bands or microbreweries, you can’t really tell. “Stretch your legs,” he says, “This next phase will take some time.” You swing your legs over the side of the chair, stand up and then plop back down. “You okay, darlin?” “Stood up too fast.” “Apple or orange?” “Huh? Orange,” You feel your face going hot, “I followed your instructions—“ Ezra hands you a cold, sweating bottle of orange juice. “I know you did,” he says, “When you get tattooed, you are signing up for an injury. One that happens over the course of several hours, but an injury all the same. Everyone reacts a little different. Your sugar just dropped is all. You drink that juice and you’ll be right as rain in no time at all.” “I thought I’d be okay-“ “And you are,” says Ezra, “I’ve had three hundred pound bikers slither out of the chair at the first sight of blood. It happens sometimes. I’ve gotten woozy a time or two myself.”

He shoves up his shirtsleeve and shows you a dog in a space helmet, “That’s Laika,” you say. “Patron Saint of one way trips,” says Ezra, “You can see a bit of wobble in the curve of her helmet. It was far from my first ink and it still hurt like a sonofabitch. You didn’t do a thing wrong, okay?” He rests his hand on your shoulder briefly, warm weight of it grounds you, and he hunkers down so his eyes meet yours, no judgement there, just concern, and without thinking, you mirror him, rest a hand on his vibrantly inked bicep, Laika brave and doomed amid a swirl of watercolored nebulae, his skin warm beneath your palm and you feel the breath rush out of you, didn’t know how hard you were clenching your jaw, didn’t know you tight your chest was. “Thank you.” And for a beat those lovely, dark eyes hold yours, before they slide away, cheek curved up in a half-smile. “You are most welcome. Shall we proceed?”

The color inking goes much as he described, more annoying than painful, like a constant pressing of fingernails against your skin, different gun with more needles packed together, ink laid in, blood wiped away, back and forth over the same bits of skin, needles dipped and rinsed, tiny plastic cups of color that make you think of a child’s paint set, and the two of you settle into easy conversation, a flow back and forth like a gentle tide, mostly Ezra explaining all the hidden delights of Secret Springs, you simply must get breakfast at Cisco’s, it don’t look like much but they’ve got the best biscuits and gravy i’ve ever tasted, and Cee swears by their Hangover Helper, it’s like a layer dip of grease. Hash browns and corned beef hash and scrambled eggs with sausage gravy and cheese sprinkled over it. I keep tellin Frankie he should rename it the Heart Attack Platter, but he won’t hear it— Ezra’s voice and the buzz of the tattoo gun and the rhythm of him pressing into your skin and wiping away the blood and excess ink set you drifting, content to listen to him ramble, like the patter of falling rain. “So what got you here?” asks Ezra. “Moira. I saw her ink and asked—“ “No, darlin, what got you here?” And you find it hard to speak, to put into words, did everything right, married and had kids and a house and a good job and a husband who loved you until he didn’t, did everything right and still ended up with an empty house and no one to come home to except the cat. Lilly and Liam and Joey off on their own and settled and they all call you on Sunday like clockwork, as if you are an obligation and not someone who held them when they were small, talked them through the fears of monsters in the closet, talked them through the humiliation of first love, you know they love you, they tell you every time, at the end of every visit, hug you so tight and tell you they love you. Love you too, but you still come home to a dark house and an empty bed, you honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve been touched or kissed or held. Been so long since you did things for you without thinking of him and the kids that it feels wrong, shameful. “I wanted to do something just for me, I guess.” You frown. “I’m guessing you are not in the habit,” he says, “Of doing things just for the joy of it.” You laugh, a bright and brittle sound that pulls itself from your throat, even as your eyes burn, his eyes flick up from the brilliant pinks and oranges and purples, and you turn your head away. “I’ve prodded a raw nerve, I’m sorry. Cee rightly says I have no filter-“ “It’s okay. It’s just…you do everything right and you still end up all alone, you know? Lil and the boys are all doing fine. They call me every Sunday, and I know I should be happy, and I am happy. Happy for them-“ “But not for yourself,” says Ezra. And you think of how the intimacy slowly bled out of your marriage, held on so tight for so long, thought you could muscle through it like you do everything else in your life, but love wasn’t enough, determination wasn’t enough, gritted teeth and stubbornness weren’t enough. “No. Not for myself.” You frown. You haven’t put it in words before, too busy keeping it together, trying to gut through it like you do everything, keep your head down and push through, “You think your life is one thing and then it just isn’t anymore— this probably seems silly to you.” “Not at all. I often think of cicadas,” he says, and returns his attention to the fireweed blossoms. “Cicadas?” “Yes. They live the majority of their lives under the ground, feasting on roots content with living in the dark and then something calls them up above. They split themselves open, crawl out of their old skins and take flight.” “You’re saying I’m in the process of crawling out of my own skin,” you say. “I’m saying that your future doesn’t have to look like your past,” says Ezra.

“The past is another country,” you say, and you can’t remember where you’ve heard the phrase. “Just so,” says Ezra, “Just so. We’re redrawing the map right here. And it is a joy to redraw it with you.” “Are you—are you flirting with me?” Ezra scrunches his face in mock disdain, “I would never ever flirt with a client. That would be deeply unethical and Cee would undoubtedly yell at me. However, once I finish inking this last frond and we slather you in ointment and wrap you up you will no longer be my client-“ “And then?” He smiles at you, all dark eyes and dimples. “Well then we are just two folks enjoying the moonlight and wetting our toes in the surf. If you’d walk with me a spell. If you can further tolerate my rambling,” “I think I’d like to get my feet wet.”

#secretsprings #secret springs #tattoo artist!ezra x f!reader #tattoo artist!ezra x mature reader #ezra prospect x f!reader

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royboyfanpage · 5 months ago

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@devine-fem 's comment on my last original post, I can't believe I've never mentioned how much I love Roy Harper before, I should amend that immediately /j

I love like... everything about him. Roy Harper in the golden/silver ages? Absolute baby, I adore him. He had SO much trust in Ollie, and he was a sweetheart! He was the secretary of the Green Arrow fan club! He had a stamp collection! And even as a small child he was SO unhealthy, like my go to panel is this

Which is literally baby Roy willing to sacrifice his life to save Ollie, baby boy was going into that with FULL belief that he was going to die and he did it anyway and there's SO much I could say about that. I love Ollie, I've defended him in so many situations, but holy shit he raised a child to have issues. But little Speedy Roy was the sweetest thing!!! He wanted Ollie to pick him up ice cream!! He was just a little guy, a little fella!!

And then Snowbirds came along and obviously changed the way Roy was written, it was a major turning point for his character because it was really the comic that initially fleshed him out- before then yes obviously he did have his own distinct personality that differentiated him from the other Titans but at the same time that was VERY clearly a point in which he went from being a traditional child sidekick to being Roy. It gave him his own morals, his own struggles, and his own determination. Remember, Roy made the choice himself to get clean, he wasn't forced into it. Obviously Snowbirds has its problems, it was a PSA written in 1971, but also it was sosososososo foundational in developing who Roy is as a character.

There weren't too many comics featuring Roy between Snowbirds and Lian's birth, but they are also so interesting. I'm pretty sure it's Green Lantern (1960) #100 but also I'm rambling and I'm too drunk to fact check so I'll reblog tomorrow if I'm wrong but there's an issue where Roy goes back to Star City and you can SEE his desperation to be a hero, you can see his determination, and it's so beautifully written and in the epilogue Ollie tries to have a talk with him, tries to make amends after what happened and you'd EXPECT that Roy would take that, that it'd be water under the bridge, but Roy has his own agency and he fucking leaves!!! Because he's not ready to make up with Ollie and he has his own agency!!!

And then the second big turning point in Roy's career is when Lian is introduced, and you can SEE how much of an impact she has on him as a character! At the end of The Cheshire Contract Roy says he thinks Lian is gonna change him and he was right! She does! He goes to Ireland and meets Moira and Buttons (I think those are their names? Again, not fact checking this post) and looks after them and that's the start of his development as the "dad Titan", and he loves Lian so much!!

This panel from Rocks and Hard Places makes me SO emotional because he loves her!!! She's the most important person in his life!!! Plus his relationship with Jade is SO compelling to me, because he loves her and he'll always love her and she loves him too (even if a lot of writers have done their best to make that not the case- I love Jaderoy and I will always love Jaderoy)

And he's also generally such a good guy, I don't have the panel screenshotted and I can't remember the issue but there's that New Titans issue where Kory kills someone and she tries to justify it to Roy and he's just like "you don't need to explain it to me" and I wish his friendship was explored with her more because they had SO much potential as friends.

And then and he's SUCH a good mentor figure, like in New Titans #116 which is my go to issue for anything mentor Roy related because it's SO GOOD! He's constantly trying to wind the kids back to make sure they're okay, telling Terra II to not get too cocky, making sure Grant's okay (and the "yeah no wonder I'm in charge" panel when Grant suggests blowing Gar up is my favourite) and expressing genuine concern when Bart attacks Kyle recklessly and I WISH his relationship with Bart and Terra II had more susbstance because it's so good

Then there's the Arsenal Special which is really the comic which explains WHY he's called Arsenal!!! I've made so many posts about this comic and I love it so fucking much because he fucking takes all those guys out with only shit he can find then takes all their weapons and loads them onto himself while giving a badass monologue which, from memory, goes something like "he thinks I was was sent here to kill his daughters. Well guess what, I have a daughter too. So it all comes down to his daughters or mine. Who gets to think their daddy's a hero, or some thing that crawled out of the dirt. Get it through your head, 'cus it ain't gonna be mine". I love him. I love him so much.

Then there's Teen Titans (1996) #12-15 which I recently made a post about but it's a comic I'm SO greatful to have physical copies of because it's so fucking good for Roy stuff. There's so much on how others percieve him- I love the fab five, but they (well, the boys, Donna wasn't in it because she was mourning Robbie's death) have such a derogatory view of Roy. Like Dick's "he's good but not good enough" and Wally's view of him as not good enough to lead (which is brought up again in Titans 1999 secret files), and the constant references to Roy's addiction in that comic. Then he gets his Green Arrow inspired suit (very Red Arrow of you, late 90s) which he brings on to the Arsenal mini, and his whole fascination with the suit because his biggest dream is being good enough for Ollie, he IS way more than good enough for Ollie which was clear even from the end of Snowbirds but my boy has issues, and then Joto dies because of the explosive arrow he fires which IMO should have fucked him up more than it did but it also absolutely did fuck him up at least in that comic and in the Arsenal mini and there's probably more I could link that too but again, I'm drunk.

And then there's the Arsenal mini. Holy fuck I love the Arsenal Mini. it's so fucking good for like, all his familial relations in the Arrowfam in the late 90s. The flashbacks to Dinah and Roy during Snowbirds and Dinah's "the bravest person I ever met was the one who was flawed" speech, that panel of him resting his head on Dinah's shoulder, the fact that that entire story was fueled by his love of Lian, his talk with Connor about Ollie and how Roy never wanted to be Green Arrow he just wanted Ollie to have asked? It's so fucking beautiful and I love it. And the fact that he WAS gonna team with Vandal to save Lian, he's a father first and a hero second, but he thought about it and decided that there had to be a way to be both and he was right!!! He's so insanely good and I love him, he has a reputation of being a bad boy but he is SUCH a hero it's beautiful.

Then comes Titans '99 which I really can't do justice just talking about. He's so incredible in it it's insane. Like his father/son dynamic with Grant is so beautiful to read, he loves that boy!!! He loves that boy like he's his own flesh and blood and I will take no criticism!!! And his relationship with Donna is so painful to read in that comic because he's such a romantic and even though their relationship was gonna fail from the beginning because of the nature of it and because of Donna's reasons for it he still kept on it because he loved her!! He loves her so so much that he's willing to have his own heart broken for her and good god my boy is unwell. Plus it's the peak for Roygarth, their relationship in it is so great and their talk in issue 16 is amazing and I love it, plus Roy's genuine heartbreak at the possibility of Garth being dead just gets me. And while it's overshadowed by Outsiders, there is a lot of Dickroy potential in Titans 1999, Dick being so loving towards Lian with the "yumyumyumyum" panel in issue 1 and him generally just being one of the closest people in Roy's life, plus Roy being one of the only people who are willing to actually call Dick out on his BS and that being the thing that breaks that out of purgatory? Chefs kiss

And who would I be without mentioning Green Arrow 2001. I'm tired now so I'm not gonna talk about Archers Quest but I can't not talk about Boys Night Out because!!! He's so good in it!!! His speech to Connor that sounds SO much like a coming out acceptance speech, taking Connor to a bookshop despite his own boredom because he wants Connor to have a good time, the brotherly teasing while Connor's driving, him calling Connor out and supporting sex workers, him protecting Connor... it's the perfect issue. Anyone who hasn't, please read Green Arrow (2001) #32, it's so fucking good I promise.

And finally (and I mean finally as in I cba to talk about Red Arrow because I'm getting sleepy), Outsiders which is. So fucking good. Oh my god. Like him forming a team just to help support Dick through Donna's death, the fact that once again he's underestimated but this time Dick stands up for him, him getting shot and getting PTSD because of it (Oursiders 2003 #11 love of my life), everything that happens in this run is SO FUCKING GOOD AND I LOVE ROY HARPER!!! And for once he actually stands up for himself when he's called a junkie!!! He punches Dick in the face!!! As he fucking should king!!! And issue 45 (I think?) Is the best because it's. So good for him and Lian. His protectiveness over her, his love for her, and her being able to see when he's not okay. Beautiful outstanding and incredible.

In conclusion I LOVE Roy Harper because he's the best dad in the world, he loves everyone so much and will never stop, and he's just. Such a good person. I love him. I love him a lot.

#roy harper #speedy #arsenal #drunkposting #again nothing in here was fact checked I'm going purely off of memory so apologies for any inaccuracies

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starlitiris · 21 days ago

Text

“Where is the Justice?”

Chapter 4: It’s Raining Somewhere Else

Summary: “It’s been about a month since Sebastian’s execution date passed. You are now 30 weeks pregnant. You’re barely staying afloat. At least you’re not alone.”

Notes: This time the chapter title is Undertale inspired :) I like referencing other things I like with my chapter titles muhaha. I hope it’s okay that these chapters tend to be kinda short ^^; bright side is it means I can get them out faster

~ ⚖️ ~

November 30th, 2013

An impenetrable sheet of gray coats the earth like a thick blanket, as the sky cries in your place.

You’ve cried a lot these past weeks. So much, in fact, that you fear you have no tears left to give.

You were tired of crying, anyway. You’re tired of everything these days.

You’re so tired.

“It’s about time we had lunch.”

You hear your mother-in-law speak, but you don’t turn to face her. You’re busy watching the rain pelt the window in front of you, analyzing how the droplets race each other to the bottom end of the glass. You used to love days like this. He used to love days like this.

“I’m thinking of trying that chili recipe Rita sent me. How does that sound?”

“Sounds fine,” you mutter.

“Okay…” She watches you for a moment. Your eyes glued to the window, slowly rocking in the rocking chair you were in with a hand resting on your growing stomach. She sighs. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

“Thank you, Valentina.”

You moved in with Sebastian’s mother shortly after he was found guilty. You couldn’t afford the apartment by yourself, and with your husband gone… you needed someone to help you get around. Valentina was more than happy to take you in. She told you that you could stay as long as you needed or wanted. You really couldn’t express enough how grateful you are to her. And Gavin, too. Sebastian’s little brother. He’s been helping as well. Them and your sister-in-law, Rita, all agreed to help you raise the twins when they come.

You try your best to stay on your feet. It’s hard, though, when all you can think about is him. You had to tell him through a plexiglass window that you were carrying twins. He looked shocked, excited… and sad all at once. You so badly wanted to touch him. You wanted him to hold you, and celebrate with you. But neither of you could afford his bail. It hurt your chest. It still does. A lot of things do.

You never had the chance to pick out any names with him, either. Your visits always felt too short for that, and you couldn’t be bothered to think of names on your while the father of your children was locked away for something he didn’t do.

You have names now, though. You decided you wanted to know their genders before they came, so you have two names ready to go – one for a boy, and one for a girl.

You want to name your son Vallen, after Valentina. You swear that woman is a saint. You keep thinking to yourself that you owe her your life – she may very well have saved it. She keeps you going, making sure you take care of yourself and get to all your doctor appointments.

For your daughter, you want to name her Moira. Truth be told, you always thought that name sounded so beautiful. You adored its meaning, too. “Of the sea.” A pretty name with a pretty meaning. You’ve always loved the sea.

You like to think Sebastian would approve of your choices.

You’re pulled out of your daze when Gavin barges out of his bedroom and into the living room.

“Mamaaaa, I’m hungry! Are you making something?” He shouts to assure his voice will reach her wherever she is in the house.

“Yes, mijo, I just started cooking!” Valentina shouts back from the kitchen.

“Oh, cool.”

You had finally managed to pull your gaze away from the window to look at Gavin.

“Hey,” he comes to stand next to you. “Whatcha doing?”

You turn back to the rain. “Nothing, really.”

“Mm,” he hums, now watching the downpour with you.

You both sit in the calm stillness, enjoying the soothing sounds from outside. You could almost smell the petrichor in the air.

“... I was scrolling through old pictures on my phone earlier,” Gavin starts. “Found one from my 16th birthday.”

You give a soft hum.

He continues, “It was that one that Rita took right after Sebastian smashed my face down into my cake.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. You can’t help but chuckle, faint as it was. You immediately remember that day like it was yesterday.

“I looked so pissed, and you guys were just laughing your asses off,” he snickers. “Man, I hated him for that.”

“You did get back at him for it, though,” you add, recalling when Gavin grabbed a fistful of cake and slapped Sebastian with it.

“Tch, yeah!” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Mama was piiissed. We got cake everywhere.”

The small smile you bare grows ever so slightly. You run the memory through your head, staring forward through the glass as if the scene was playing before you. Cake being thrown everywhere, a glob of frosting landing on your shirt, Sebastian putting Gavin in a headlock while Valentina shouted and Rita was almost on the floor laughing. It was certainly a fun day, to say the least.

“I miss him.”

Your smile falters slightly.

“I miss him everyday,” Gavin admitted, a thick sadness to his voice.

“I miss him, too,” you whisper, leading you both into a long, still quiet.

Everything hurts again. But at least you’re not alone this time. You discovered recently that it feels better to hurt with someone, rather than all on your own. It was… comforting, in a way. Still hurts, though.

You hear Gavin sigh behind you, barely feeling him place his hand on the back of the rocking chair. He leans down to get a little closer to your level.

“I hope you know your kids are getting the same treatment I got when they get older,” he warns, a mischievous smirk shown in his reflection on the window pane.

You can’t help but smile again. “Don’t come crying to me when they gang up on you and kick your ass. I won’t stop them.”

Gavin laughs.

He looks so much like Sebastian when he laughs. Got his sense of humor from him, too, clearly. Dick.

It stings a bit when little things like that remind you of him. You always see pieces of Sebastian in Gavin, Rita, and Valentina. You’re certain you will in your own children, as well, when they arrive.

It hurts. But at the same time, it’s something you desperately hold onto for comfort. It’s a way you can hold on to Sebastian.

You did promise him you would never let go, after all.

And you have no intention of breaking that promise.

Even now that he’s gone.

~ ⚖️ ~

Ao3

Chapter 3 - Chapter 5

#pressure fanfic #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace x reader #pressure x reader #WhereIsTheJusticeFic

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shijjii · 3 months ago

Text

Since I’ve been playing Overwatch with friends for a while now, I’ve also been thinking which characters would the Touden Siblings party would like! So here they are!

LAIOS TOUDEN

Laios most definitely plays tank and only tank. He plays the interesting looking characters like Orisa, Ramattra, Wrecking ball, or Winston, and he definitely loves playing as Winston. I have this small feeling that he is part of Top 500 Tank just because of how much he loves playing Winston.

FALIN TOUDEN

Falin plays and most often pockets Laios. Does her best to heal everyone but mostly her priority is her brother. She mostly plays as Mercy and Lifeweaver but also plays as Kiriko. She does play as DPS and I feel like she plays as Soldier 76 and Mei for their abilities such as soldier’s biotic field and Mei’s Cryo-freeze + Blizzard

MARCILLE DONATO

Marcille switches between healer and DPS but she rarely prioritizes on healing. She is what we call in the business, DPS Moira/Ana. With that said, she plays as Moira, Ana and Illari when she is a support/healer character. As a DPS, she plays as Ashe, Reaper, Pharah and Echo. Their abilities usually have that kill all whenever available when used right and Marcille really knows how to use them right.

CHILCHUCK TIMS

Chilchuck, my dearest boy, my dearest loveliest boy definitely plays those annoying toxic characters and plays them well. Often times argues with other teammates or the enemy team whenever they talk shit about him.

He plays mainly as Sombra and Tracer but also likes to play as Sojourn, Reaper and Venture. When he gets bored, he plays as a support character but only as the new one which is Juno (insta locks it) but when someone else has Juno, he plays as Ana or Zenyatta. He likes that he doesn’t need to be near when he needs to hit someone as Zenyatta. Loves throwing the discord ball on the tank and support of the enemy.

SENSHI OF IZGANDA

Senshi switches between tank and DPS. He plays as Doomfist, Reninhardt, Mauga as a tank. Loves to play as Reinhardt because of the axe and the shield it offers where as he plays as Venture as DPS and Reaper (No, the author does not like Reaper but I like to think that he is the easiest character to learn as and every single one of them went sure, let’s play as this racist guy).

I believe that they all work well together as a team, Chilchuck and Marcille are the ones who talk back to the enemies when they start to trash talk them, Chilchuck is always the first one to bite back and when the enemy team gangs up on Chil, Marcille joins in with long messages that no one in the enemy team reads but often times it’s one of the ways for them to shut up. Senshi is the one who stays quiet and gets the most kills when they get trash talked though, along with Laios.

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gerec · 9 months ago

Note

Hi Gerec! Do you have any fics rec where Erik fell in love with Charles at first sight? I just love reading Erik being absolute whipped for Charles.

Hi Anon! Here are a few of my favourites where they fall in love (or in lust!) at first sight. Hope you enjoy :D

Scenes from the Wild by nekosmuse

Erik Lehnsherr, world renowned wilderness survivalist, alongside his husband, Charles Xavier, survive the perils of the wild in order to bring you,��Two Men, One Knife, an award winning reality survival series, available only on the Discovery Channel. Follow Erik and Charles as they travel to the world's most remote locations with only the most basic of supplies. Pitted against nature, this husband-husband team struggle to survive in some of the world's harshest climates while battling the planet's fiercest predators. Can they survive the Canadian North? Find out next season, on Two Men, One Knife

Note: Chapter 2 covers their first meeting :D

Other Life Challenges by professor (series)

“Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Trying to create the next world war by aesc

The voice's owner is a young man, maybe a handful of years younger than Erik, with the earnest expression worn by a boy who's never grown up. He's very correctly academic in a dark waistcoat and collared shirt, although the collar is very incorrectly unbuttoned to display a hint of throat – enough, Erik decides, to want to lick. [Or, the one inspired by this moment-inducing gifset, where for some reason Erik's decided to work for the CIA as a means to an end and gets sent to England instead of Moira.]

645 Riverside Drive by smilebackwards

Azazel clearly has yet to understand the shattering power of Charles' disappointment, so Erik takes one for the team, grabbing the cup and downing the remnants of the cappuccino like a shot while Azazel watches with morbid fascination.

Humane Society by smilebackwards

Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he's Charles' cat and not his boyfriend.

An Unexpected Muse by RedStockings

Erik is an artist who is obsessed with the young man he by chance bumped into six months ago. Charles is the long-suffering brother being dragged to an art exhibition by Raven. There he spots the man he has been dreaming about for six long months and realises that he had been noticed after all.

Walling in or Walling Out by stlkrchck

Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.

For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.

Protect, Serve, Troll by keire_ke

Erik's fire department has a special relationship with the local university. They visit often. Sometimes, there even is a fire.

Immovable Object Meets Irresistible Force by ximeria

Erik is woefully unprepared for Raven's brother, who returns to the States for her 25th birthday party.

soul of my soul by ikeracity

You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.

Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.

Some Things Are Meant To Be by ikeracity

Erik is a famous singer. Charles is a closeted fan. When Raven drags him to Erik's concert, the last thing Charles expects is for Erik to single him out of the crowd, for Erik to look right at him as he sings. And the last, last thing he expects is for Erik to personally serenade him and pull him on stage and kiss him senseless, because some things are meant to be and Erik knows it.

Crosswalk by velvetcadence

Erik accidentally French dips a perfect stranger in public. Things go as you might expect it to.

Meet Cute by lachatblanche

Erik never expected to meet his soulmate in a public toilet.

Forelsket by melonbutterfly

Erik doesn't usually react to people like that, no matter how attractive they are, and Lord knows how many incredibly attractive people he's met. And anyway, even if he is attracted to someone, it doesn't… overcome him like this, never.

Defy the Stars by SomeCoolName

Charles can’t sleep that warm night in New York when he decides to get some fresh hair on his balcony. It appears he’s not the only one who can’t sleep as he meets one of his neighbors, smoking on his balcony from the building across Charles’. They meet again in the elevator a few days later and the neighbor, Erik, is not only incredibly beautiful but also charming and funny. But Charles is in a relationship with Scott and Erik is hiding something, so it’s best if they just stay neighbors.

Too bad it was love at first sight.

To Life by professor

Erik wants a Jewish wedding.

#cherik #fic rec #gerec's fic rec #love at first sight #gerec rambles

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takenbypeter · 6 months ago

Text

Back To the Past

Words: 2655

Based on this request by anonymous:

Hi!Can I make a request?And yes it will be for Peter Maximoff. I recently revised Back to the Future, so I emphasized the idea of traveling to the past from there. The daughter of Peter and the reader, along with the son of Charles (and possibly Moira), who can travel through time, fall into the time of their young parents.(perhaps some villain has gone back in time and this is dangerous for the future of mutants🤷) In the past, Peter and the reader meet by chance.And the reader falls in love with Charles's son and the course of history may change.Therefore, the daughter of Peter and the reader needs to help her father win over the reader.And Peter is like, "What the hell is a girl, she's my best friend!?" And let the daughter of the reader and Peter also have silver hair, and Charles knows who these time travelers are. I don't know how, but I imagine it in the style of old romcoms with jokes and ridiculous situations))) P.S I apologize if there are mistakes or something was unclear, since English is not my native language.

Author’s note: this is the first time I’m writing a fic like this, in like the 3rd person so there may be a you that snuck in there somewhere. Also I haven’t written a long fic like this in years, writing this reminded me of how much I hate writing long fics cause it literally took me two weeks. Anyways this was still a great request I do love back to the future.

Peter and Readers kid’s name is Lena.

Charles and Moira’s kid is name Orson.

“Quick, grab your snack so we can get out of here,” instructed the silver haired girl.

“Relax Lena, I got this.”

“I’m serious Orson!” And with that being said the boy shot her a wink and set off looking for his sweet treat.

The girl tapped her foot for a moment before deciding to find something for herself.

After all, the time travel mission was successful, why not treat herself to something good?

She strolled through one aisle glancing at the products; some that she easily recognized and others that she’s never even heard of.

Lena picked up a colorful packet and turned it over before wincing at the excess level of unhealthiness she read on the back. Staring at the contents she overheard a familiar tune in the next aisle.

Someone was singing.

It was quiet and clearly to themselves but nevertheless, someone was singing. The more she listened the more she recognized that voice. A smile crept onto Lena’s face as she glanced down remembering the story that she knew that came with that song.

Was it now? Was this the moment she’s heard so much of?

As she was listening in, something unexpected happened; another voice joined and her smile instantly dropped.

No, no, no. Please no, she begged internally.

She heard Orson stop after finishing the next line, “I love that song,” said the woman and Lena knew exactly where this was going.

“Yeah it’s a good one. My friend’s parents listen to it all the time though, it kinda ruined the song for me.”

You heard her let out a light chuckle before saying, “What?! Don’t blame them for having good taste.”

Lena heard Orson laugh that dumb laugh he did when he found someone attractive. “Oh I blame them plenty, I know tons of better songs.”

That seemed to pique the interest of the woman, “yeah? Like what?”

Lena couldn’t just stand here and let this happen.

So what did she do? She headed straight to the next aisle grabbing the boy by his ear, “I’m sorry this is my brother and he tends to get lost,” she emphasized growling at him before turning back to the woman, “you have a great day,” she said, walking away with Orson in hand.

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow,” he winced as the silver haired girl yanked his ear through the aisles.

“Are you crazy?” She asked once out of earshot from the woman. The poor boy held his ear in pain, “no, but you clearly are.”

“Don’t you know who that is?”

His nose scrunched and his eyebrows pulled downwards in thought.

“That voice. That song. You seriously didn’t recognize her?”

After a few moments of thought his jaw dropped as it all finally clicked, “that’s your mom? She was hot!” He shouted earning a slap on the back of his head from Lena.

“I swear if you don’t want me to light your butt on fire, you’ll do the smart thing and shut up right now.”

He held his hands up, palms open in defense, “okay, okay. That’s your mom, so what?”

Lena opened her mouth but got interrupted when she spotted her mother walking in their direction again. “She’s coming, shut up, she’s coming,” you said, quickly switching your expression from anger to calm and collected as she drew closer.

“Hi, excuse me sorry, I just wanted to give this,” she held out a little piece of paper with a name and numbers scribbled on it, “toâ€¦” she paused waiting for her blank space to be filled.

“Orson,” he said while Lena practically glared daggers at the boy who took it.

“Orson,” repeated Lena’s mother, “well maybe you could give me a call and we could talk music some more.”

Orson nodded and the woman smiled before heading towards the cash register. And while Orson watched her mom walk away he got another smack upside his head, causing him to yell another, ow!

Lena tugged him towards the door, “you’re so stupid, don’t you realize what you did?”

“What did I do?”

They exited the convenience store walking until they stopped a few cars away.

“Don’t you remember how my mom and dad met?”

“Yeah, she was singing a song inside the store and then when she came out, she heard Peter singing the next line outside…” his words faltered before he let out another laugh, “yeah but that wasn’t here that was at the North Side…” he started while Lena pointed at the name of the store, Orson’s next words faltering at the realization. He hissed some air, finally understating the crucial mistake he’d made.

“But you don’t know, that doesn’t mean anything.”

The store’s door swung open and Lena and Orson instinctively hid behind the truck in front of them, peering over the hood, watching Lena’s mother walk right past, you guessed it, Peter who was lazily sitting on a picnic table too busy with the popsicle in his mouth.

“You’ve killed me. You’ve literally killed me,” Lena concludes. All attention got distracted as the red truck they were behind started up and the owner shot them a dirty look before driving off.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, we’ve gotta fix this.”

“Fix this? It’ll be fine, let's just go back.”

“Are you mad!? What if we go back and I’m already gone.”

The two kids stood in silence, minds wracking for a good idea when Lena finally snapped her fingers, ”we’ve gotta find Xavier.”

Agreeing that Xavier was the safest bet they had, they traveled to the mansion (figuring it was in the exact same location, which it was). The mansion was small, at least compared to how it was in the present day.

Easily hopping past the gates the two knocked on the doors. After a few moments the door creaked open revealing a man in well dressed clothes wearing glasses.

“Can I help you?” He asked and at his voice the two shared a look recognizing Hank McCoy’s voice.

Lena took the lead, “we’re here looking for Charles Xavier.”

Hank shut the door slightly, no doubt to prevent them from seeing inside, “I’m sorry, what is this regarding?”

“It’s alright Hank,” the door opened revealing Charles as he wheeled himself closer, “let them in.”

Once inside the four made their way to a more secluded area, passing a few recognizable mutants until they got to their destination. Once inside Xavier’s office, Hank shuts the door and joins everyone by the desk.

Inside, the two begin to explain everything; the mission, the convenience store, the fear of what the future may bring. And throughout it all Charles listens intently, taking it all in, until finally at the end he gives his own thoughts. “This is a tough situation, and I’m no exact expert on time travel but I believe Lena is correct. Because right now we don’t know for sure if these two individuals do get together, you can’t precisely tell what’ll happen to Lena if you go back.”

The professor looks to Hank who still wears a confused expression on his face, “I’m sorry, I’m still a little perplexed, are we talking about Peter Maximoff?” Lena nodded while Hank asked another query, “he got hitched?” The question was more rhetorical as Charles shot him a look of amusement before turning back to the children.

“I think your safest bet would be to somehow make the two come together naturally.”

“And how do we do that?”

“Well that’s for you two to figure out now isn’t it?”

“What? Us?” Said Orson.

“You’re the ones who got yourselves into this mess so it’s your job to get yourself out of it.”

After interrupting a few excuses from the two Charles sent them on their way.

“Okay, think,” started Lena as the two now paced back and forth outside the mansion racking their brains for ideas, “how do we get them in the same place?”

“At least we have a way to get your mom there,” said Orson.

Lena turned to Orson, her paces stopping, “how?”

A smile widening on his face he reached into his pocket pulling out the piece of paper from earlier.

“You kept her number?! Why did you keep her number?!”

The boy shrugged.

“Get rid of it!”

“What? No, we need this, I’ll ask your mom out and she’ll go to…wherever it is and we just have to make sure your dad’s there too.”

“And how do we do that?”

The two join in thought again, finding this part slightly harder than the rest. Orson claps his hands, breaking Lena’s thought process, “first we find him, then BOOM, you flirt with him.”

Lena’s eyes widened before she squinted them, “that’s disgusting, I’m not flirting with my dad.”

“Oh come on, it won't be that hard.”

“You’ve lost your mind—lost it.”

“Well if you don’t then we have to find someone else to help us.”

“Wait!” You shout making the boy stop, “why don’t we just get one of his friends to ask him to meet up at the same place?”

Orson snapped his fingers at your words, before his expression grew confused again, “but who?” The two stop and think as a familiar figure wearing a long yellow jacket conveniently passes by causing the two to share a look before they go after the figure.

“Let me get this straight, you two are from the future, and you messed up our time, so now you need to fix it by having Peter go to this arcade, roller rink at seven o’clock?” Jubilee asked, sitting at a picnic table with the two kids.

Jubilee let out a single laugh, “you gotta know how suspicious this all sounds, it sounds like a trap.”

Lena held her hands out, “it’s not I swear.” Jubilee raised an eyebrow at the young girl. “Okay, the truth is we’re not just from the future, I’m Peter’s daughter and he,” she pointed at her male counterpart, “messed up big time. I just want to make sure everything goes back to the way it was, so I’m still…me,” she finished her head hanging low.

Maybe it was because of how desperate Lena sounded, or maybe it was because Jubilee knew how it felt to make a mistake. Or maybe it was the fact that Lena’s gray hair seemed to back up her story of being Peter’s daughter. Whatever it was, Jubilee agreed.

After Jubilee agreed Orson made sure to call Lena’s mother asking her out to the same venue and time. Now all the two had to do was wait.

Once getting to the planned location ten minutes earlier than planned the two waited anxiously as the minutes passed by.

“Okay I don’t think we thought this through enough,” Lena said, worry hidden in her voice.

“We got them together, what more is there?”

“Just because we got them in the same room doesn’t mean we got them together. What if they don’t talk to each other?”

Orson opened his mouth to say something but his gaze shifted past Lena before pulling her towards him as they hid behind a nearby wall.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” he says as the two watch Lena’s mom enter the building.

Watching from afar Orson fully hid as the woman glanced around.

After not finding who she's looking for, she takes a seat at the tables near the arcade.

After about two minutes in came Jubilee followed by Peter who headed straight to the arcade portion of the building. Jubilee instantly spots the two kids and once separating herself from the speedster she heads towards them.

“Hey, what’s the plan?”

“The plan is you keep him busy for twenty minutes then you leave and we’ll try to get her,” Orson points across the building at the woman sitting all alone, “to him.”

Jubilee nodded before going back to Peter.

Fifteen minutes go by while the two descendants try to come up with something, anything to say to get the woman to the other side of the building.

When the two seem to not come to an agreement Lena stands up and walks to the woman herself. “Where are you going? Lena. Lena!” Whispered Orson as he hid behind the wall again.

Walking by her mom Lena faked a surprise expression before stopping, “hey, I know you! You’re the girl from the convenience store earlier.”

Her mom smiled, “oh yeah, good to see you again,” she paused looking around and it pained Lena to know who she was looking for.

“Is your brother here? We sorta had plans tonight.”

Lena brought her eyebrows together acting confused, “that’s weird. I asked my brother to come tonight and he said he had a date with a friend of ours at the movie theaters.”

“Oh.” She sounded so dejected.

“But hey, he literally does this all the time, he’s just the worst. But just cause he’s dumb doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, there's a new game at the arcade you have to try, you point over to the silver haired boy, “why don’t you head on over and I’ll join you soon.”

She got up and did as told while you punched the air in a mini victory. Jubilee, noticing the girl coming over, told Peter she would grab a drink leaving the man alone.

Both Jubilee and Orson joined Lena as they observed Lena’s mom watch her dad play.

Lena taps her foot nervously, “this isn’t enough. What if they don’t talk?”

Orson put a hand on her shoulder, “relax I got this covered.” Without explaining any further he leaves evading towards the DJ booth.

With nothing to relax her nerves Lena turns to the pair again.

Over by the games Lena’s mom just watched as the silver haired boy was in the process of beating the hi-score. With her eyes and his eyes glued to the screen in front of them, she said “you’re really good,” half not expecting him to take notice, but he did.

“Nah, I just play a lot. If it were up to me I’d be here for hours,” he said.

A few quiet moments passed between the two before a familiar song played overhead. “Ugh, of course they play this song,” the girl growled under her breath.

That seemed to catch the attention of the speedster, “what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, a guy just stood me up and we kinda met to this song.”

A light chuckle came out of Peter’s mouth, “you shouldn’t let someone else ruin a song for you.”

“Yeah, easier said than done.”

A silence fell over the two excluding the sounds of buttons and music, until Peter spoke up again, “you know what could distract you from all that?”

She says nothing except peers curiously as the boy’s hands leave the controller causing the game over screen to take over. He turns to her for the first time that night with a smile before saying, “a video game.”

Across the building the three watch as Peter gets off from his chair. “Wait, what’s happening?” Lena asks, looking on while her mother replaces where Peter sat. They watch as her mother takes the joystick in her hand while Peter talks, seemingly explaining how to play.

“I think…we just did it,” Jubilee responded.

“…we did it.” Lena whispered, “we did it!” She repeated turning toward Orson who wore a smile of success on his lips. The two turn to Jubilee and thank her before collecting themselves. “I think it’s safe to head back now,” Lena says, turning to Orson who nods. With goodbyes to their new/old friend they wave with one last, “see you in the future,” from Lena, while Orson holds onto her shoulder. With that being said the two disappear with a spark, leaving Jubilee wondering how it all turned out.

Guess she’ll just have to wait till the future to find out.

#peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff fanfic #peter maximoff fanfiction #quicksilver imagine #quicksilver fanfiction #quicksilver fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #xmen imagine #xmen x reader #xmen fanfiction #xmen fanfic #x men imagine #x men fanfic #x men fanfiction

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everydayyoulovemeless · 1 year ago

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Fo3 Companions Living in Megaton With Lone

➼ Word Count » 0.6k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic

Charon doesn't really have much of an opinion on the matter. If this is where you want to live, then this is where he'll follow you. Moira is always stopping by to ask if he could grab her something in a place that's just a bit too irradiated for her to do it herself, so he eventually refuses to answer the door for you. He'll gladly do anything else though, and he's not picky about the decor.

Clover doesn't mind, wherever you go, she'll go. She likes arranging things around the house and putting flowers in vases and whatnot. She does her best to keep the place as clean as possible and, although she covered him in graffiti, gets along decently well with Wadsworth. Moriarity will definitely try to manipulate her into some sort of contract so that he can have another "worker" alongside Nova, but other than having to keep an eye on her, she's easy to get along with.

Living in Megaton reminds Star Paladin Cross about when she escorted James here 19 years ago. It makes her feel slightly nostalgic being here again after all that time and seeing all the different changes that have been made. She doesn't mind how you decorate it and is happy with whatever as long as she's allowed to have a weapons workbench in one of the corners. She and Jericho might get into a few altercations from time to time, and she's always telling you about her gripes with Nathaniel, but she has enough manners and self-control to refrain from street fights. (more so for you're sake than hers).

Jericho is the trashiest roommate on this list, he doesn't even bother throwing things away. He'll just pile garbage into a corner until you decide you'll throw it out. The good news is, none of your neighbors are going to be trying anything with you since you're living with the town's local raider. Jericho also frequently gets into arguments with Wadsworth and eventually just locks him in a cage upstairs, so you can forget about having a butler helping you pick up all the junk he leaves around the place.

Butch will beg on bended knees for you to pay for the wasteland explorer theme for the house. Nothing would make him happier than having Moira wheel a motorcycle into the house. Overall, he's a decent roommate. He'll leave a mess in the living room and leaves his clothes everywhere, but other than the average frat boy shenanigans (expect there to be beer bottles everywhere), he's not so bad.

Besides him accidentally breaking things, Fawkes is probably the best to live with. He keeps the place relatively clean, keeps people out, and is just an overall joy to be around. He's sweet to all of your neighbors, even if they're open about not wanting him around. In all honesty, he's just happy to be out of that vault. He'd be happy anywhere and he especially loves having his own little nook for him to read and study. Soon enough you'll have a live-in doctor.

Every day, RL-3 will wake you up early so that you can begin your 5 a.m. workout routine. There is no resting when the possibility of communists lurking is high. He'll keep you and the other residents in line. Megaton will have a competent police force in no time, but the locals are gonna be upset with how demanding and loud he can get. Some (Jericho) might even try scrapping him for parts.

You'll get no complaints with Dogmeat. Everyone loves him and the kids that run around are always playing with him. Moira might try to train him to get her things, but other than that, you'll have no issues living with him.

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jbuffyangel · 10 months ago

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No Turning Back: Arrow 1x16 Review (Dead to Rights)

“Dead to Rights” otherwise known as the episode Tommy was right about everything.

Let’s dig in…

Oliver and Tommy

A great deal of Season 1 is focused on Oliver’s relationship with his father Robert Queen. The promise Oliver made his father is the force that drives his mission, but there is a flip to that coin. There is an adversary pushing back against Oliver’s mission with equal, if not more, force.

There is no saving Starling City if there is no one to save it from and this episode finally reveals the identity of that adversary. If Oliver had only listened to Tommy, or remotely paid attention to ANYTHING he said in this episode, then so much could have been different. I’m speaking with hindsight, given that this is a Season 1 rewatch, but I don’t believe the writers were trying to hide this point.

It’s Tommy’s birthday and his father Malcolm Merlyn crashes his party. He’s receiving a humanitarian award (HA!) and would like Tommy to attend. Things are pretty chilly with these two since Malcolm shut off the money faucet, but honestly it’s been a good for Tommy.

He’s realized he can stand on his own two feet which gives him the confidence to tell his father to go to hell.

Malcolm takes narcissism to a new level to show up on Tommy’s birthday and make the event about HIM. It’s always about him, which is exactly what Tommy tells Oliver when they have lunch the next day. Oliver’s heart is in the right place. He encourages Tommy to give his dad another chance because Oliver knows what it’s like losing a father.

Oliver: My dad made mistakes. We haven’t talked about this, but I have a lot of anger towards him. But still I would give anything to have him back because at the end of the day your dad is your dad.

This is the first time Oliver has expressed anger towards Robert in anyway, so I want to be sure to note it and give him credit for naming the feeling & expressing it.

This speech also addresses the complexity of Robert’s death. If you’ve been wondering how can Oliver just pick up this enormous responsibility Robert dumped on him, which is essentially cleaning up HIS mess, and not feel resentful in anyway – then you can stop wondering. He is resentful and angry as any human being would be.

Oliver can’t express that anger because Robert is dead. His grief and overwhelming guilt overshadows his anger. This is why Oliver is encouraging Tommy to give his father another chance because he would give anything to have that opportunity with Robert.

But the thing is - Tommy also knows what it’s like to lose a parent. His mother died when he was just a little boy. Oliver is literally preaching to the choir. Yes, his father is alive but appearances can be deceiving. Merlyn disappeared for TWO YEARS after his mother died. Malcolm may not have been physically absent when he returned, but he was emotionally absent. Tommy is telling Oliver he felt abandoned by his father when he needed him most. He feels like an orphan. It was Oliver’s family that gave Tommy the love he needed.

I’m a little surprised Oliver doesn’t remember Malcolm disappearing for such a long time, but he was a little boy so I’ll give him a pass. What’s astounding to me is Oliver does not put these clues together.

Let’s run it down:

1. The List is comprised of one percenters destroying Starling City with their illegal activity. Malcolm Merlyn is one of Starling City’s wealthiest citizens.

2. He was a friend of the Queens. Maybe not every rich person is on the List but his proximity to Robert means he deserves a hard look. He also floats in close proximity to Moira (another person Oliver stubbornly refuses to see any connection to the List even though SHE HAS HER OWN DAMN COPY).

3. Merlyn disappeared for TWO YEARS. Oliver came back a trained ninja/Russian spy with exceptional archery skills after five years. He doesn’t pause for even a second to wonder if Malcolm could have also acquired a similar skill set like, oh I don’t know, the DARK ARCHER!!!!

4. MOTIVE. Malcolm’s wife Rebecca was murdered. A super villain is always the dark reflection of the superhero. (Read a book Oliver). Robert’s death spurred Oliver’s mission to save the city. Maybe the Dark Archer’s mission to destroy the city is centered on a similar pain.

5. The Triad hired contract killer Floyd Lawton to kill Malcolm Merlyn. Why are world’s worst criminals trying to kill Tommy’s dad? These people typically don't associate with Disney princes.

6. Oliver has personal knowledge Malcolm Merlyn is a world class dick.

Oliver can’t ask Felicity to find out where Merlyn went for those two years? You know who does finally ask? TOMMY. Swipe the passport Oliver. Look for a Nanda Parbat stamp. Mystery solved my dude. This is like watching E.T. miss all the Reese’s Pieces. WHAT AN ENORMOUS OAK TREE!!!

Rather than read between any of these lines, Oliver pushes Tommy to make up with Satan.

Moira is intimately aware of how evil Malcolm is after he murdered one husband and kidnapped another, so she’s the one who wants him dead. She wisely puts a couple layers between Floyd Lawton and her – hence hiring the Triad to hire the assassin.

Unfortunately, Tommy listens to Oliver’s terrible advice and goes to the humanitarian event which throws a kink in Moira’s plan to kill Merlyn. She doesn’t want to kill Tommy’s only living parent in front of him, but that’s how the cookie crumbles kid. Moira is resolved. This is going down – Tommy or no Tommy.

Malcolm does give a damn about his son and breaks out his super ninja skills to save Tommy from Triad thugs. He shoots one in the head at point blank range, which makes a lasting impression on Tommy.

He leads Tommy to his safe room upstairs because he’s always prepared for anything.

Malcolm is just about to reveal the Dark Archer suit to his son, but the bullet proof windows get blown out by a rocket launcher of some kind? I’m not sure on the weaponry, but Lawton is always prepared too. Malcolm is wearing a bullet proof vest, but it doesn’t stop the bullet in his shoulder from poisoning him.

Source: @fogsblue

And guess who arrives just in time to help? UGH.

Source: @olliequeengifs

Oliver explains Malcolm needs a blood transfusion to survive. Tommy’s experiences with the Hood haven’t all been positive, so he is skeptical to say the least and keeps a gun on this loon. Oliver realizes the only way Tommy will listen is to take off the hood.

Source: @olliequeengifs

Tommy has a lot of WTF questions, but it all has to wait as Oliver prepares the blood transfusion. DAMN IT OLIVER!!! JUST. LET. MACOLM. DIE.

Detective Lance questions Tommy about the vigilante’s identity, since he was saved AGAIN by the Hood, but Tommy answers honestly, “I don’t know who the hell he is.”

Even though Tommy feels betrayed by Oliver he is loyal and still loves him. So, he protects Oliver’s secret. In return, he wants Oliver to answer one question:

Source: @olivergifs

This answer endlessly fascinates me. Oliver will not tell his family, his girlfriend or his lifelong friends but trusts his most intimate secrets with two people he hasn’t known for more than a year. I think there are two main reasons.

He provided the first in Episode 5. Moira, Thea, L*urel and Tommy know who Oliver was before the island. If they truly knew who he is now, if they really see the rage and darkness he keeps simmering underneath that carefully crafted robotic surface, then they will know the full extent of his trauma. They will see him as broken, as less than. Maybe they will hate him like Oliver hates himself.

And Tommy’s reaction to Oliver’s secret identity is a confirmation of his worst fears.

The second reason is Oliver believes his mission will end, so there’s no need to tell anyone. He cannot see the full picture yet, but either Oliver will succeed in his mission or die trying. Given Oliver’s fatalistic outlook on life, the latter is the far likelier scenario he anticipates. In fact, he may believe the only way for his mission to succeed is to die.

This is the moment it could have all been different. Now the mission is on a collision course with the Merlyn family. If only Oliver put the clues together sooner, if only he didn’t reveal his identity to Tommy, if only he didn’t save Malcolm, if only, if only, if only…

But none of those things happened and now the consequences will play out. There's no turning back.

Merlance

This episode is the high point for L*urel and Tommy, so let’s just savor the moment.

L*urel throws Tommy a little birthday party and invites Oliver and McKenna over for dinner because everyone is so mature and the best of friends.

Tommy: I have finally figured out why poets have been in business the last thousand years.

Oh my Merlance. Can’t we just stay this way? This is so close to an “I love you” but we’re still so very far away, which is really sad because Tommy and L*urel are happy and stable. They are opposites in almost every way, but that’s why they work. We can see the humor, ease and joy in their relationship as Tommy is getting ready for his father’s award ceremony.

Source: @arrowsource

Small moments can mean just as much, if not more, than the big ones in a relationship. In the immortal words of Pacey Witter, “Oh I could do this. The salty and the sweet.”

I don’t doubt for one second that Tommy loves L*urel. The X factor is L*urel. It’s always been her. I believe she loves Tommy. I also believe she’s IN love with Tommy. I just don’t think L*urel knows that yet because she’s still hung up on all her Oliver crap. The fact she doesn’t know really pisses me off because TOMMY MERLYN IS EVERYTHING.

Tommy knowing Oliver’s identity is obviously going to impact his relationship with L*urel; particularly since I’m sure he will remember discussing with Oliver her obsession with the Hood. AWKWARD. Oliver being a friggin superhero is also going to hit Tommy right in the gonads.

Tommy and L*urel are on a collision course with Oliver now that two thirds of this love triangle has the full truth between them. This collision was probably always going to happen. L*urel deserves the truth from Oliver too and if she finds out it will open a very big can of worms with Tommy.

But why should it? Oliver being a vigilante should not be the driving force for L*urel wanting to be with him. It does not change the fact that Oliver SLEPT WITH HER SISTER. I’m sorry, but there are just relationship deal breakers and that’s one of them. She can forgive him, but that doesn’t mean she has to BE with him.

Stray Thoughts

Felicity has adorable workout clothes. This is not a surprise. I also love that Diggle feels protecting Felicity means teaching her to protect herself. I love this friendship.

“I’m more of a runner.” Stephen Amell pretending to be in terrible shape is hilarious.

Robert Queen was a pilot. So that’s how Oliver learned to fly.

Sara had a pet black canary. This show has the subtly of a jack hammer.

“Code breaker is my middle name. Actually it’s Meghan.” We were spoon-fed Felicity tidbits like this for a solid three seasons and each one left us craving for more.

Oliver fixed a radio in the flashbacks. It was riveting.

Listen to the @watchover-podcast reaction to 1x16!!!

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me.

#arrow #arrow 1x16 #arrow reviews #arrow season 1 #arrow season 1 reviews #oliver queen #tommy merlyn #merlance #tommy and oliver #laurel and tommy #anti laurel lance #john diggle #felicity smoak #season 1 episode reviews #season 1 episode review #dead to rights

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silly-fox-in-sox · 12 days ago

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Breeders Cup Classic winner Sierra Leone

Some 2024 Breeders Cup thoughts:

Distaff: The distaff lost so much luster when first Idiomatic and then Awesome Result came out of the field, but Thorpedo Anna's complete domination was still a beautiful sight to see. She's gotta be the horse of the year, right?

Classic: Sierra Leone may have won the Classic, but Fierceness ran the best race - he helped set a wicked pace that melted down while Sierra Leone got the perfect setup for his big late kick. Forever Young was probably too close to that hot pace as well, but he still ran a solid 3rd. City of Troy had not shot after a bad break and poor Next was not prepared for such a hot pace.

Filly & Mare Sprint: Soul of An Angel is such a cool horse, and I'm pretty sure with 41 starts, she's the most experienced runner in the entire Breeders Cup. It was really something to see her swoop in from dead last to just get to the wire first.

Mile: Love, love, love to see More Than Looks get the big win here for a bunch of reasons - he's a gorgeous horse, he's trained by an easy trainer to root for in Cherie Devaux, he's been unlucky all year and finally got the right set up, he was the only American to win a BC race on the grass... this one made me really happy. Double happy that my West Coast boy Johannes held onto second

Juvenile Fillies: Immersive looks like a potential monster for next year

Turf: I did my best handicapping in this one and would have cashed some nice tickets if I hadn't overlooked Rousham Park. Rebel's Romance has turned into such a cool, globe-trotting horse to root for. He's a gelding so I wonder if we'll get to enjoy watching him another year. I didn't see it on the track feed, but heard later about the loss of Jayarebe from a heart attack right after the race. So heart breaking; I've seen posts from his connections and you could really see how much they loved him.

Filly & Mare Turf: Moira rolling to a decisive win here was so fun. I've been a fan of the Canadian horse of the year since she won the Queen's Plate 2 years ago, and fell more in love after she won the Beverly D ( a race I love, even if it's not at Arlington anymore)

#horse racing #breeders cup

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auryborealis · 1 month ago

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oc-tober 2024 | day 9, 11, 12, 13

(sorry for the late prompts and as a result, this long post. I've been busy & tired😭)

day 9: relationships

for this, I will discuss the dynamics of two oc x canon ships that have taken over my life:

Sanyu [Sanji x Yuna]:

They are the teeth-rotting sweet couple. At first, their inexperience with love and their own insecurities caused them to pine for each other for a frustratingly long time until they finally had the courage to confess to each other. Even then, they start off being shy but they are very comfortable with each other's touch and affection so they love to cuddle. He also really likes to pepper her face with light kisses every chance he can get, give her flowers, seashells and other trinkets just so he can make her smile or hear her giggle. Gradually (especially during post-timeskip), Yuna is less shy from his advances but he continues to act like her puppydog.

Lukita [Lucci x Kita]:

The Facebook "it's complicated" relationship status. They have history from when Kita was part of the CP9 until it turns out she was just an imposter with her own agenda. When they were defeated at Enies Lobby, Kita dipped shortly after Lucci recovered from his wounds. Although he won't admit it, Lucci was actually hurt by her betrayal. They still run into each other over the years and he's basically lost braincells during his attempts to capture her because she is an absolute menace, treating him like a kittycat, teasing him, being able to easily overpower him, and overall just annoying the hell out of him. But the attraction and tension is still there which they often give into. While Lucci does his VERY best to remain serious and tries not to acknowledge that he actually feels some sort of affection, she always manages to push his buttons and finds his reactions adorable.

day 11: symbolism / themes

Yuna: her red ribbon. blood. magenta. sharks. red coral. amaryllis flowers.

Kita: the eclipse. darkness. purple. cats (including panthers). atropa belladonna.

day 12: future

First Yuna:

Of course, she and Sanji get married and set up a restaurant together, where there's also a stage for theater or live music performances. They have two children, a girl and a boy (who I still haven't named ;_;). Their daughter shares Sanji's love for cooking while their son dreams of becoming a dancer like Yuna.

As for Kita:

Even if the World Government is overthrown, I imagine that there is not much change to Kita's life. She - along with Moira and Carmen - will continue to stir chaos all over the world and Lucci will still pursue her but with less hostility.

day 13: meme

divider by @/saradika-graphics

#bweirdoctober #oc: yuna #oc: kita #one piece oc #op oc #one piece x oc #oc x canon #art tag

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soursatellite · 7 months ago

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The Waters We Brave - Ch. 1

Pairing: Gurney Halleck x Original Female Character (Moira Atreides)

Summary: The year is 10,189. House Atreides stands strong as one of the great houses of the known universe. Marchioness Moira Atreides, sister to the great Duke Leto, begins to fear the plots hiding beneath the waves.

Tags: Age Gap (original character is 31 and Gurney is in his early 50's), YEARNING, slow burn, devious political plots, plot heavy, fluff, angst, did I mention we're yearning? Leto and Moira being the sibling duo to end all sibling duos, Jessica and Moira being the girlbosses to end all girlbosses

Warnings: Self harm in the form of picking at skin due to stress

WC: 5044

Author's Note: It's here! This is my first ever fanfic and I'm so excited to be posting this. I hope all you Gurney lovers out there find some enjoyment in this. This is an introductory and VERY plot/character establishment heavy chapter. So if you like this and want me to keep writing this series PLEASE PLEASE let me know. I want to hear all of your thoughts. I promise that if I write future chapters they will be more GurneyxOC heavy, I just loved writting the political intrigue. Much love, Sputnik <3

Excerpt from the Histories of House Atreides:

The Duchess in the Shadows

We turn now to another member of the House Atreides; the younger sister of the Duke Leto, Lady Moira Atreides. 12 years his junior in age but equal in mind, Moira Atreides was the picture of political prowess alongside her brother. She played such an integral part in his rule that some referred to her as, ‘The Duchess in the Shadows’.

Despite not being the direct heir, Lady Moira was raised with all the training a person of high political esteem may need by her and Leto’s father as a powerful asset to his son’s rule. And live up to the expectation she did.

The Marchioness’ heavy dress whipped in the Caladanian winds as the door of the ship opened into a ramp, the feeling of the breeze a cool salve across her cheek and mind. She turns to look at the Atreides Warmaster, Gurney Halleck, standing slightly behind her left, “Are you not delighted to be home, dear Warmaster?”

The man’s face remained set in stone, “Overjoyed, my Lady”

A laugh escapes her lips, “careful, one day you may slip up and I may be able to tell how you feel without asking,” the woman faces forward once again. The vessel they were onboard let out a final groan as its ramp fully extended. Moira couldn’t help stealing a deep breath of the air of her home world, a crisp welcome that she never failed to love. The few strands of her dark hair that had escaped the intricate updo atop her head tickled the sides of her face. Nothing could quell the joy that filled her heart upon returning home even after her 31 years of life on the planet.

The smile it brought her fails to leave her lips as she sees her family there to greet her. Her brother the Duke Leto, her good friend Lady Jessica, and beloved nephew Paul. The boy ran forward as Moira reached Caladans ground and pulled his Aunt into a firm hug. She gives a joking groan and pats his back, “Gods, my boy. As much as I adore your welcomes you cannot continue your greetings like this. When you are a man grown you will knock me off my feet.”

The boy ignores her tease and pulls back with a smile, “we are happy for your return. And yours as well, Warmaster,” he says looking from his aunt to his tutor. The boy had already passed Moira in height despite being in his mid teens. The two share their pale skin and wavy dark hair, but he gained the greenish-blue eyes of his mother while Leto and Moira shared eyes of a dark brown.

The Marchioness pats the boy’s back before continuing to walk towards Lady Jessica and Leto, “We are glad to be back. It feels like ages since I was graced with the loveliness of our home,” she holds out her arm to her brother for him to shake, and the man can’t help but let out his own laugh and grab her arm, pulling her into a firm, quick hug, “A month you have been gone, sister. One month too long. The planet has missed you.”

“Well not just the planet I hope,” she says, sharing a smile with Jessica.

The woman gives a pleased look to her friend and takes her hand from Leto’s, “We’ve had a dinner prepared for your arrival. I know you must be exhausted, but it’s nothing a good meal among family won’t fix,” the group of them begin walking into the castle.

As they walk, Moira catches Gurney starting to split off from the group and halts, “you will be joining us won’t you, sir?”

He stops in place and turns, meeting the expectant eyes of the Lady Moira, “I did not wish to intrude, my Lady.”

“Nonsense, Gurney,” she walks forward to him and takes his hand in hers, “you know you are family as much as the rest of us.”

The man looks down at his rough hand encased in the Lady’s smooth skin, struggling to find the words to reply before Leto pipes up, “Yes we insist, Gurney. You must join us.”

He clears his throat lightly and nods, “If the Duke and his family wish it.”

�� Moira smiles. Ever the professional Gurney was. If Moira had learned anything in her years traveling with him, it was that the man would not seek to make his wishes known unless they could be phrased in a way that would please her or her lord brother.

“Good. Now go get cleaned up and we will see you in our dining hall,” she gives his hand one last squeeze and Gurney gives her nothing more than a short nod before walking off. Moira turns back to her family, “I shall see you all in an hour.”

Gurney, above all else, was reliable. He was loyal and set in his ways, a feature he prided himself on. When the young Duke Leto Atreides had liberated the man from the Harkonnens in an Atreides raid on Giedi Prime, he vowed his loyalty to the Duke and his family. Thus his new routine was set in place. He proudly served his Duke and his family upon rising to the rank of Warmaster, and happily fell into routine. He tutored the Duke’s young son Paul and trained his soldiers. When the long day was done, he would retire to his room, read his books, and play the Baliset. With all the tumultuous tides his early life had brought, Gurney would have happily spent his eternity in this life, but life hardly let us have what we wanted.

For the better part of the last two years, Gurney Halleck had found himself accompanying the Marchioness Moira Atreides on cross world and interplanetary diplomatic voyages. Now Lady Moira and Gurney sat at the private dinner table of Duke Leto, Lady Jessica, and the young pup Paul. The brother and sister talked emphatically of the recent excursion and the three others in the room simply sat and ate their dinners silently, they would hardly have been able to get a word in if they’d wanted to. Everyone knew that attempting to pull the siblings' attention from each other after they’d been apart and had so much to discuss was like trying to get a child to look away from a sky full of colorful fireworks.

The Warmaster had hardly noticed that his mind had been so far elsewhere from the table until he heard a lull of silence and looked up to see Lady Moira and the rest of the table looking at him expectantly after Moira had said something he’d failed to hear. Gurney internally chastised himself for not being vigilant in the conversation before asking, “I’m sorry, what was that, my Lady..?”

Gurney’s flustered state (of course flustering Gurney was as simple as catching him without an immediate phrase or retaliation) was met with a simple smile that twitched at the edges of the Lady’s lips, amusement twinkling in her eyes, “I said the people on Exodeos were quite enthralled with your baliset playing, weren’t they?”

The Warmaster recovered quickly and stopped himself from mindlessly stabbing at his food to regain some semblance of professionalism despite the fact that he was among family, “Oh, yes they were, my Lady,” there was a pause as Gurney clears his throat and tries to brush off the affectionately teasing comment, “Every time I set it down they begged for one more tune,” Gurney said, trying to regale the talk with a tone of amusement, as much as his monotone voice would allow.

Moira laughed and looked back to the other members of her family, “you should all be jealous that I got to hear so much. We all know how difficult it is to get our dear Warmaster to play for us, but I think he simply couldn’t resist the applause.” Everyone chuckles and Gurney can’t help looking back to his food. He wasn’t offended by the Lady’s prodding; not in the slightest. He wasn’t sure the woman could ever offend him. That was what made things so difficult.

The dinner was a pleasant one. Too often did Gurney deny himself the enjoyment of a nice meal, usually opting to scarf it down as fast as possible to return to his work. Of course he would never dream of disrespecting his royal family like that and remained seated for the entirety of the meal, listening silently to the conversations of the group.

When the dinner was done, they all stood. The Duke was the first to excuse himself, and Gurney quickly bowed to excuse himself, but could not begin to move away before Lady Moira stopped him. She turned and said a quick word to Jessica about meeting her in her library for a cup of tea before returning to the Warmaster, “I do hope you take leave for the rest of the evening. We’ve had a long journey, and I do not wish to see you over exert yourself,”

“It is not overexertion if I find the work pleasing, my Lady,” he replies simply, knowing she will disapprove.

She just gives him a look and asserts herself, “I mean it. Take the rest of the night off. Your men will last a few more hours without you,” her words are firm, and full of seriousness. But he knows she speaks from a place of concern, and her tone does not lack lightness.

He nods and replies, “If you insist, my Lady,” as if he would ever disobey an order from her.

Moira’s smile graced her lips once more and she nodded. Letting him go, she turns and walks out of the dining hall. He hardly notices his eyes following her until he turns and meets the eyes of the young Paul Atreides, a slightly mischievous smirk upon his face. Gurney looks at him unamused, “Just because your aunt has dismissed me from duty doesn’t mean she has done the same for you. Back to your studies, young pup,” he clasps the back of the boy’s shoulder before going to his chambers, the boy letting out an immature groan behind him.

Lady Moira’s private library was vast; filled with literature, histories, and journals from planets across the known universe, including her own records of things. A sturdy wooden desk sat proudly in the center, the full shelves lining the walls surrounding it. Two plush chairs sat by a window, turned in towards a small coffee table where the tea cup of the Lady sat steaming.

The Lady Jessica sat, cradling the warm cup in her slender hands as she watched her friend pace back and forth in front of the looming shelves. One a skilled Bene Gesserit, and the other a fearsome politician, Jessica and Moira shared many a whispered conversation in the cold room under the light of the glowglobe. They had been each other’s closest confidants since Jessica’s arrival as the Duke’s concubine, both in work and friendship. Between the two of them, it was nearly impossible for something to escape the castle unheard or unseen.

This particular night, Lady Jessica did most of the listening as the Marchioness relayed some of the more minute details of her recent escapade that she had yet to share with the Duke. Things like public opinions on their house and discrete conversations she’d heard. The Lady doesn’t miss as her friend’s shoulder’s grow more and more tense and she picks more harshly at the skin around her nails, as if there’s something building in her; bursting at the seems to be let out but being held back by the twines of self preservation. Jessica takes the liberty of snipping that thread.

“Something troubles you,” the words are direct, not a question, “You’ve heard something. Or seen it?” Jessica sips the hot liquid and keeps her eyes set on Moira’s avoidant ones.

Lady Moira lets out a deep sigh, her body deflating but maintaining it’s rigidity, “the waters we brave are rocky, Jessica,” the woman stands behind the chair she would have used if not for the anxiety keeping her on her feet and grips the backrest of it with firm knuckles, “Opinions of the name ‘Atreides’ grow stronger, in many ways.”

“But you always have stated that the positive dealings far outweigh the negative-”

“They do and that’s what worries me,” The Marchioness’ dark brows crease as she stares down at her knuckles, her eyes glossed over with thought, “we move further and further from a safe and steady neutral. More people across the known universe have a growing love and support for Leto, but this only means that those who wish to see him fall will rise to meet that demand. Rumors have begun to circulate surrounding me.. Some are saying that I wish to usurp my brother’s throne.”

Jessica sips her tea with no more urgency before replying to the Lady of the House. She was aware of these rumors that sometimes circled between the common folk who had nothing better to talk about sometimes than unrest within the royal house, but she knew better than anyone that these words weren’t true.

“Those that doubt your intentions are looking for theatrics where there are none. The Duke knows you have his best interests at heart. As do I. Leto would never believe these histrionic claims made about the person who has so vehemently supported his reign from the very beginning.”

Jessica’s eyes are drawn down to her Lady’s hands that burn a raw red around the nail beds, her eyes still not meeting Jessica’s own. “It’s not the rumors themselves that worry me, it’s where I’m finding them. Planets far away that have no prior attachment to the House Atreides and should not have any care for our politics. The eyes I have sent around the galaxy have seen them on planets the Duke has not touched.”

The cause of Moira’s concern becomes clear and Jessica lowers her teacup to her lap, “They’re being planted. Who would benefit from such whispers? An attempt to turn the people against the Duke or the Duke against you.. Is it a Harkonnen plot?”

“No no, it’s not the Harkonnens,” Moira moves from her previous spot and begins walking along the sides of the room near the door, listening for unwanted spectators, “They would benefit yes but they’re not the cause. It’s much too subtle of a plan and is being found far outside of their range of jurisdiction…” The Lady’s voice falters into a pause of hesitation and Jessica grips her cup.

“You suspect someone..?

Moira’s lips purse in hesitation as she reaches and locks the door before moving to Jessica. The Bene Gesserit mirrors the urgency, setting down her cup and standing to meet the woman’s gaze. Moira holds the Lady’s arm with a steady gentleness and whispers in her ear in a tone just above silence “the Emperor Shaddam.”

The Lady Jessica snaps her head and meets the dark eyes of the Marchioness for the first time this evening. There is no jest in them; no sense of uncertainty, only fear encased in an iron shell of will. The Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV, “you’re sure?”

“As sure as I can be,” Moira takes one of Jessica’s hands and clasps it in her own, “by spreading these rumors he allows a shadow of doubt to befall Leto. To us they seem completely unfounded but to others it could mean a lessening of their faith in him. Their validity and plausibility hardly matter. It’s simply the doubt in Leto’s ability he wishes to sow. But I believe this could all be part of a much bigger plot. Something much more sinister ..”

Jessica nods as the two women share a knowing look, “we must not fear…”

A smirk twitches in the corners of Moira’s lips “and we shall not,” she gives Jessica’s hands a light squeeze, “don’t worry yourself with this immediately, and do not mention what I have told you to anyone, not even Leto. I will tell him when the moment arises.. We’ve yet to know how deep these roots have grown and how many seeds have been planted. Being too hasty with things will only deepen the wound. I want you to focus your attention on Paul and his training. You may have set him up to help us in ways we do not yet know. Now, the hour is late. I will retire for the night and I advise you to do the same.”

The Bene Gesserit nods and soothes away the worry from her sea-glass eyes in a way only a Bene Gesserit could, “anything I come across will be brought to you,” and with that the woman slipped away into the darkness. Perhaps the women’s affinity for the shadows aided in their friendship. Moira knew that it certainly aided in their design.

As the door shut behind Jessica the Lady Moira allows her shoulder, brittle from the weight of everything on her mind, to crumble. Much of her dignity had lain in her ability to bear the burdens of her profession. She was not so caught up in her upbringing that she allowed herself to ignore the vast pleasures and ease of living she experienced on a daily basis, but the mental price was a hefty one. And she had no one to blame but herself for her involvement in it.

Moira collapses into one of the plush chairs, her hands coming up to rub her face in an attempt to push the thoughts from her mind. It was like the stress had made her whole body on edge. Everything felt elevated; from the throbbing weight of her braided hair being amassed on top of her head to the stinging of the torn skin of her fingers. She could hear the chastising of her brother in her head, ‘why do you torment yourself so? I know you do enough of it mentally for the both of us’.

It’s not until long after the Lady says she was going to head back to her chambers that she finally does so, saying a prayer to the gods that she would find rest easily despite knowing that was a hopeless wish.

Gurney always struggled to find sleep the first night after returning home. He put all his effort into adjusting to the schedules of whatever planet they may go to in order to maintain top performance, mentally and physically. He knew he was in extremely good shape for his age, even better than most men much younger than himself, but that didn’t mean he was ignorant to the extra effort it took to keep it that way.

When the second hour with no sleep had passed, he let out a heavy sigh before standing, pulling on a simple outfit and shoes to go take a walk through the castle in an attempt to clear his head and wear himself out

He was always on high alert when on a voyage with the Marchioness. That level of awareness could be hard to let go of upon returning. Her safety was Gurney’s number one priority the second their vessel left Caladan to the moment they returned. The Lady Moira had gone on diplomatic missions for years before Gurney was officially assigned to accompany her. She’s always been protected, sent with an entourage of guards. It had always been enough for her, especially in her early days as a young politician. People would pay her little mind and she was able to slink between conversations all she liked without much notice.

Of course it didn’t remain that way. As Leto became more popular, more attention also found its way to his envoy. When Leto heard there had been plots of an attempt on his sister’s life that nearly came to fruition, he spared no time upping her guards. Gurney distinctly remembers the moment, nearly two years ago, when the Duke had called him to his office and commanded that the Warmaster accompany Lady Moira on all future diplomatic missions. The man phrased it as if part of the reason was that it was important his master of war was just as just as tuned in to these foreign relations, but Gurney knew the most vital thing was keeping the Marchioness safe. One thing Gurney was certain of is that if one of the Atreides siblings was taken from the other, only tragedy would befall the one that remained.

And thus the Warmaster found himself in the company of the Marchioness of Caladan, Moira Atreides. Despite the fact that Gurney Halleck had served as Warmaster to the Atreides house for more moons than he could count at this point, it was only when Leto had officially assigned Gurney to accompany Lady Moira that he actually spent time with the Duke’s illustrious sister. For most of his service, he cared only for war and the protection of the Duke. He didn’t concern himself with politics much in the beginning. His only impression of the Lady was restricted to flashes of her dark hair and intricate gowns in the halls, or when he’d go to meet his Duke and find her there rambling things of great importance that would immediately stop the moment he entered the room. He knew the Duke thought of her highly, more so than almost anyone. That was enough for him to respect her.

Gurney would be lying if he said he didn’t find her a tad unnerving at first. Sometimes she would come into the training room to watch his training of the soldiers, her face devoid of any discernible emotion about what she saw, simply watching and then leaving without a word. She had an air of inquisition; like nothing said to her was safe from being fully examined and scrutinized. It had led to Gurney attempting to keep all of his interactions with her very brief, like she would somehow know things of him that he himself didn’t know and would sniff out something particularly displeasing that would have him removed from the Duke’s service. He’d seen the very thing happen to advisors who one day had been in very close conversation with the Duke, and the next were expelled due to the exposing of a more devious plot. He wished very deeply to never be on that side of her sharp bladed silver tongue.

Luckily, and a tad surprisingly, for him, the Marchioness’ disposition around trusted friends was much different from the air she held herself with professionally. He’d been surprised when, about six months into her service, she’d called him to accompany her. He’d adorned his entire ensemble, ready for whatever the lady might request, only to find out she wished to stroll in the gardens of the planet the royal family they were staying with on that particular journey. Gurney wasn’t sure how, or when, he had gained the good favor of his lady, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

Part of him felt some shame when he realized he’d expected her to be much colder. He’d only been used to seeing her in stuffy meeting rooms with a back as straight as a needle or in her offices writing furiously within her journals. This first day of leisure when he accompanied her allowed him to realize for the first time after an embarrassing amount of years, that Lady Moira Atreides was a woman who had found herself in her position merely by the chance of the universe. And that that position often left her in solitude far from the comforts of home. Despite the fact that that day in the garden’s he had done nothing but stand by her side and offer his gruff responses to her comments, she had decided that he was to be not just her colleague and guard, but her friend.

Looking back, he sometimes wished it wasn’t so; wished that he had been meaner despite how difficult it was to be mean to her. Then he would not find himself in her close proximity as often as he did. Then he would not know the feeling of her hand on his as she tries to get his attention. He wouldn’t know the feeling of her soft hair that sunlight soaked into as he moved it out of the way to adjust her necklace upon her request. Gurney found himself wishing he did not know of her softness so that he would not need to deal with its absence. He felt shrouded in shame as he knew his affections had surpassed those appropriate for a Warmaster and his Lady. Even breathing the same air as her felt like a vice.

Gurney couldn’t find the will to be surprised as the universe taunted him now and laughed in his face. Not even five minutes into his walk and he spots the Lady Moira. She stands alone in one of the vast corridors of Castle Caladan, only lined with windows that look out upon the oceans and cliffs of the planet. Her hair, usually woven up into various braids, now fell loose, like an inky,waving waterfall all the way down her back and to her hips. The Marchioness was shrouded in a thick, intricate robe. She didn’t seem to see the Warmaster, her dark brows furrowed in pensive thought. She always seemed to look that way when she thought nobody was looking; like worry had been etched into her face and the weight of her unsaid thoughts weighed upon her shoulders.

He tries to give a slight cough before speaking so as not to startle her too much, “are you unable to sleep, my Lady?”

Gurney hears the small, sharp intake of her breath as she turns to look at him, visibly relaxing a touch when she sees him, “Oh, Gurney. I apologize, I didn’t see you,” she turns her eyes back to the window, “yes I’ve had trouble finding sleep. Too much on my mind from the journey I suppose..” her words trailed off, like her mind was elsewhere.

He nodded in understanding and took only a few steps toward her, “me as well, my Lady. It is always difficult to find our footing again,” she nods and tries to give him a slight smile in reply, but the action is a forced one. The woman hadn’t been able to scrub the look of concern off her features, “If I may be so bold, my Lady, what is it that troubles you..?”

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, Gurney.”

“But if it would ease your mind then-”

“It’s nothing,” she says firmly, cutting him off. Hardly a few seconds can pass before he sees the regret fill her eyes with the way she had spoken to him. She breathes in and continues, “I am fine, I promise. I thank you for your concern, Warmaster Halleck,” Despite her tone easing, he doesn’t miss the remaining tension in her shoulders, nor the fresh irritated skin of her fingers as she wrings her hands together. But Gurney knows better than to push the matter further and simply nods.

A silence resonates between them before Gurney speaks again, “may I join you, my Lady?” Even with the torment it will no doubt bring him, he cannot deny himself the blessing of her presence.

This brings a soft smile to Moira’s face, “you know you needn’t ever request a place by my side, Gurney. You always have it”

Gurney cannot resist the twitch at the corner of his lips at her reply as he moves closer to her, “I always find it a good practice to ask. I’d never wish to offend you.”

Moira laughs softly, “I doubt you could ever offend me, Gurney Halleck,” his palms betray him as they grow sweaty, “if anything, I’d be offended that you’d think me so self important that I’d refuse,” a glint of moonlight twinkles in her deep eyes as she looks to him.

Her teasing encouraged him to relax. He knew the one thing that the Lady despised was when people neglected to speak freely or joke with her because of her status, “You simply surprise me that you find my company enjoyable, my Lady.”

“And why wouldn’t I?”

Gurney couldn’t resist a chuckle at her question, “I am a difficult and stubborn old man. I can be crude in my tongue and set in my ways. Many consider me a rather woeful form of company.”

She does not deny him, a simple laugh of acknowledgement leaving her which he assumes will be the end of her reply before she tacks on, “but not to me.”

But not to me

Gurney can not find a reply as his tongue lays dry in his mouth. He hopes that his decision to leave her words ringing in silence seems like an intentional one, and not an obvious result of her leaving him with no amiable response.

Luckily for him, Moira seems content standing in silence for the next few minutes before she pipes up, “I really should go to bed. Thank you for keeping me company, Sir Halleck. Would you be willing to accompany me back to my room?

Yes.

“Should that please you, my Lady.”

Moira wordlessly links her arm with his like she had many times across many planets as he guides her through the familiar halls of the castle. Gurney finds himself hoping that his rigidity is one of the features his Lady is pleased with about him.

When they reach the large wooden doors of the Marchioness’ chambers she slips her arm out of his and moves to open her door, but stops to look at the Warmaster, “please do find rest tonight, Sir Halleck. Our world is not one that allows for much of it,” he sees that flash of worry flick in her eyes but he simply nods with a slight bow and bids her goodnight.

Gurney cannot rid himself of the feeling of the weight of her arm resting on his own the entire way back to his chambers.

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