#pre descendants kids exist cause i say so

[theconstantsidekick]

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (7) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings), Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader (future)

Genre: Angsty city babyy!

Summary: The Avengers have a reunion... in Germany... at the airport... with a few new members.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma, Canon Typical Violence

a/n: this was so hard to write wtf?

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (6) | Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (8) | Series Masterlist | Age of Ultron (Static Origin Story) | The Avengers (ft. Static) | Captain America: The Winter Soldier (ft. Static) | Static Verse Masterlist

As soon as she and Steve have the grounded chopper in sight, An electro-disabler slams onto the chopper, frying the systems and rendering it useless. Steve and Y/n look up. 

She watches with burning annoyance as Tony and Rhodey descend.

“Wow!” Tony fakes surprise looking at Rhodey, “It's so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don't you think that's weird?”

“Definitely weird,” Rhodey answers.

“Hear me out, Tony,” Steve pleads. It almost seems genuine. “That doctor, the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this.”

T'Challa leaps over a truck, “Captain.” 

“Your Highness,” Steve replies.

“Anyway” Tony begins, as he walks around, “Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?”

“You're after the wrong guy.”

“Your judgment is askew.” She’s seldom seen her brother this fucking furious, but then again, maybe it’s cause it’s Steve.  “Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday.”

“And there are five more super soldiers just like him,” Steve argues. “I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't.”

And then, 

“Steve—you know what's about to happen,” Natasha chimes in joining the growing confrontation. “Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?”

No one’s addressed her since this entire thing—

“Why are you being so uncharacteristically fucking quiet!?” Tony screams at her.

Taken aback a bit, she straightens up. “What’s left to say?”

“Are you seriously going along with this? You know how this ends, way better than him,” Natasha tries to reason with her.

She shrugs. “I don’t—Frankly, I don’t care about any of this. I just want to go home.” She says it simple and sweet. Because it’s true. She understands that there is a threat looming but she’s sure Steve can handle it. If you asked her two weeks ago, she would have been enthusiastic about the whole thing, a mission to take down the last vestiges of HYDRA, of her nightmare—what’s not to love? 

But that was then and this is now, and now she has to fight her way through her friends to fight with some villain and that just—call her selfish but that just seems unnecessarily tedious. She just wants this all to be over. Part of her wishes things could just go back to that party at the Tower before Ultron attacked. Everything was… It was all so easy then. She misses it.

“Then let’s go home!” Tony urges.

And all she can do is let out a laugh in disbelief. “I said I wanna go home… Not a fucking prison cell.” 

Tony clenches his jaw. “ All right, I've run out of patience.” He cups his hands around his mouth and yells out, “Underoos!”

And suddenly, there is liquid spilling out onto tying up her and Steve’s hands. A person in tight fitted red and blue suit flips over and snatches the shield. He lands on top of a truck, joining the ensemble.

FUCK TONY! She thinks. What did you do?

“Nice job, kid,” Tony compliments with a smile.

“Thanks. Well, I could've stuck the landing a little better. It's just the new suit—Wait! It's nothing, Mr. Stark. It's--it's perfect. Thank you.”

“Yeah, we don't really need to start a conversation,” Tony comments.

“Okay. Cap… Captain,” Spider-Man nods. “Big fan, I'm Spider-Man.” If he weren’t wearing a mask, Y/n is sure he’d be smiling.

“Yeah, we'll talk about it later. Just—” He waves his hands dismissively. “—Good job.”

“Hey, everyone,” Spider-Man greets.

“You've been busy.” Steve notes, there is a blatant hint of disapproval in his words.

“And you’ve been a complete idiot!” Tony counters, pissed. “Dragging in Clint. ‘Rescuing’ Wanda from a place she doesn’t even want to leave—a safe space.”

“How are you any fucking different, Stark?!” Y/n bites back. She’s pissed too. If she hasn’t made it clear yet, she would like for it to be put on record that she is outraged, beyond outraged that she has to fight the tiny little family she has been able to piece together over something as heinous as her fear of being imprisoned again. She hates every second of it but this?

This is a new level of stupid on Tony’s part.

“What the fuck were you thinking? Why would you bring him here?” She asks, pointing at Spider-Man. She’s well aware of who he is. It is her job to know. Which means she knows, that he’s just a fucking kid!

Y/n is about to blow a fucking gasket.

Tony just runs a hand over his face, looking exhausted. “I did what I had to do. You’re not giving me a lot of options here.”

“Fuck off, Tony!” She throws back because that is nowhere near a valid excuse to bring the kid into this. 

“I'm trying to keep—” He sighs. “I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart,” Tony urges.

“You did that when you signed,” Steve answers. 

That might be the only thing that she and Steve agree on.

“Alright, We're done,” Tony announces. “You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. NOW! Because it's us! Or a squad of J-SOC guys—with no compunction about being impolite.” He pauses for a second, and then a final plea, “Come on.”. 

Sam’s voice rings out over the comms, “We found it. Their Quinjet’s in hanger five, north runway.”

Instantly both she and Steve hold their hands up and Clint shoots the web off.

Tony’s helmet goes up as he turns to look at the source of the arrow.

“Alright, Lang,” Steve signals Lang to get to it.

And Lang does not disappoint. 

“Hey, guys, something—” Spider-Man is cut off by Lang sizing back up from Cap’s shield and retrieving it.

“Whoa. What--what the hell was that?” Rhodey asks aloud, confused as fuck.

Lang hands the shield back to Steve, “I believe this is yours, Captain America.”

“Oh, great. Alright, there's two on the parking deck. One of them's Maximoff, I'm gonna grab her.” Tony announces all their locations. “Rhodey, you want to take Cap?” He asks before flying off.

“Got two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes,” Rhodey calls out, as he begins to take flight.

Steve launches his shield, aiming for the chest of Rhodey’s suit, temporarily incapacitating him. 

“Barnes is mine!” T’Challa runs off and Steve swiftly follows behind.

Spider-Man swings away upon receiving whatever order he receives from Tony.

“I’m gonna—” Lang points over to Rhodey, to which Y/n just nods in response.

“Guess that just leaves you and me,” Natasha notes.

Y/n smiles a little, “In any other circumstance I would’ve enjoyed that more.”

Natasha smiles too, before she lunges at her. 

Y/n easily dodges every attack that Natasha throws at her. Nat’s trained. She’s amazing, agile and utterly formidable… But Y/n is better. Looking at her, it’s easy to forget that while she’s damn near ancient at this point. But she is. She has done this a lot longer than any other member of her team.

“You’re not fighting me,” Natasha notes.

Dodging another punch, “I don’t want to,” Y/n answers.

“How do you plan on fixing this?” She asks.

Taking a step back, with furrowed brows, “Why am I supposed to solve it?”

“Well, it was supposed to be us—you and I, together. But then you decided to leave with Steve.” Natasha counters. Her attacks are getting more intrusive, it’s taking a lot more work to dodge them.

“I left cause of Sergant Barnes, Steve cannot handle him alone and you know it,” Y/n reasoned.

“And you can?” 

“I’m not alone, am I?” Y/n’s getting a little annoyed.

“That doesn’t feel like a betrayal at all,” Natasha bites back, kicking her hard in the side.

“Fuck!” Y/n curses. Clicking her tongue, she swallows a groan while holding her side. “Yeah, like you didn’t fucking betray me signing that goddamn document.”

“These boys are demarcating the playground, claiming a side of their own.” Natasha lands another blow on her chest, making her stumble back sputtering. “They can’t clean up after themselves. They are too headstrong, too naive to see sense. We have to fix this!”

Y/n has had enough. When Natasha carges at her again, she stops her. Blocking with one hand, she knees Nat in the side. “It’s not my fucking responsibility!” Pushing her back, she counters Nat’s attacks easily. “I never wanted to be a part of this shit show. I didn’t want it then, I don’t want it now. This is not my fucking mess!” Y/n throws a punch. ”I just want to go home.”

Natasha blocks her. And then… then she fucking smiles.

It’s not a cunning one. It’s not mocking either. It’s something like sympathy. 

“You’re fighting me,” Natasha notes. And belatedly, Y/n realises, that yeah… yeah she is. “You’re always going to be a better fighter than me, Y/n. But this,” she taps at Y/n’s chest, right above her heart, “you let this loose way too easily. You make it too damn easy for me to do this.” Natasha manouvers herself around Y/n and pins her to the floor, trapped between fucking her legs. Fuck me, Y/n thinks. With a crippling elbow punch to the gut, Natasha gets up on her feet, leaving Y/n coughing on the floor.

“Just say what you want to say,” Y/n asks from where she’s lying flat on her ass.

“You cannot keep claiming Switzerland. You don’t want to pick a side? Don’t. Be on your own side, but don’t keep pretending to be uninvolved. Look around you, Y/n… you already are involved.”

With that, Natasha is off too, leaving Y/n to gather up her leftover dignity.

The fight, or well should she call it the fights—cause there are multiple—the fights continue. Vision enters the arena and draws a literal line in the sand. 

“Captain Rogers,” he says, levitating above them, “I know you believe what you're doing is right. But for the collective good you must surrender now.”

As politely as it’s worded, it still remains a warning. Warning Steve to stop, but come on. Has that ever fucking worked with Steve ‘Bullheaded’ Rogers? 

Both teams charge at each other and Y/n just hates all of it. It feels absurd to fight against the people she has fought shoulder to shoulder, but in the moment, it feels like she just doesn’t have a choice… Does she?

She loses track of everyone she faces off, but rest assured it’s everyone but the Spider-Man. She tries her best to avoid using her powers, bringing up her armour only as defence. The powers—her attacks are meant to harm. These aren’t the people she would ever wish harm upon.

Eventually she stumbles upon Spider-Man, barely holding up what once must have been a gangway. Manifesting the armour onto her arms and then curling her hand around the hilt of her sword as it’s forming into existence from her dimension, she glitches in just above him and free falls to the ground, cutting the whole thing down.

She lands on her knee. 

“Miss Stark!” Spider-Man yells out in excitement, dropping the halved gangway with ease. “It is so great to meet you! I am a huge fan, especially of your—”

She cuts him off, her sword disassembling out of existence, “Who did that?” she asks, pointing at the completely unrecognizable gangway.

“Captain America,” he answers easily. “Aren’t you on his team?”

“I don’t know which fucking team I’m on!” Y/n answers, throwing her arms up in utter frustration. 

The kid for his part remains calm, giving her a moment to compose herself again. 

Sighing, she looks up at him, “Do you make it a habit of willing following men dressed like stop signs to Germany, or is this one off thing?”

“Mr. Stark said he needed help… How could I say no?” 

There so much fucking ernestness in his words it burns Y/n from within.

“Go home, kid,” she tells him. “Tony—he…” She shakes her head. “All this is way too bigger than you…”

“I can handle it,” he replies, sounding almost desperate. 

“I don’t doubt it,” She answers, because she doesn’t. “But you’re better at being the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.” With that she begins to walk away.

The kid, however, has other ideas. He shoots a web at her and instantly her sword manifests once again, cutting it down before it can stick to her. “Don’t be dumb, kid,” she scolds gently, glitching a few meters away. “Go home!” She yells out and glitches out of his sight.

As it goes on, at some point, a realization strikes them all.

“We gotta go,” Barnes’ voice rings out over the comms. She’s not sure she’ll ever get used to having that voice in her ear speaking anything but crude monosyllabic words in German. “That guy's probably in Siberia by now.”

“We gotta draw out the flyers. I'll take Tony. You get to the jet,” Steve replies. “Y/n, think you can take on Vision?”

“You bet you star-spangled ass—” She’s cut off before she can verbally assault Steve for questioning her at all.

“No, you get to the jet! All three of you!” Sam reasons, sounding a little strained. When she spots him in the air, Rhodey hot on his trail. “The rest of us aren't getting out of here.”

She wants to cut in, but before she gets the chance to, T’Challa throat punches her, pissing her off. Her focus shifts to handling the King of Wakanda.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, if we're gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it,” Clint chimes in.

“This isn't the real fight, Steve,” Sam urges softly.

“Alright, Sam,” Steve acquieces. “What's the play?”

“We need a diversion, something big,” Sam says.

“I got something kind of big, but I can't hold it very long,” Scott answers instantly over the comms. “On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half—don't come back for me.”

“He's gonna tear himself in half?” Barnes questions, sounding just as confused as she feels.

“You're sure about this, Scott?” Steve asks him.

“I do it all the time. I mean once…in a lab,” Scott answers.

“And then what happened?” Y/n asks, finally being able to find her voice, having pinned T’Challa on the ground with her thighs roped around his neck.

“Then I passed out,” Scott answers.

“Awesome,” Y/n remarks before, T’Challa lands a blow on her side, making her losen her grip. Both are quickly on their feet again. 

“You’ve gotten better, your majesty,” She tells him. T’Challa has always been a great fighter—trained by the Dora Malaje, of course she expects no less. “It feels like it was yesterday when I saw your father teaching you how to wield a staff.”

He charges at her with so much anger. “How dare you talk about my father when you choose to protect his murder!”

“T’Challa—” She tries but he’s not in a listening mood. He’s in an attacking mood; he keeps coming at her relentlessly. She dodges every strike.

“After all the kindness he showed you, you protect Barnes!? You are a traitor!”

“He didn’t kill your father, T’Challa! You have to know that,” Y/n tries to reason but clearly it has no affect. In the end she realizes she is not left with much of a choice. 

Before she can react on her realization, however, Scott fucking Lang decides to grow to the size of fucking building. 

“Mother of whore-loving motherfucker,” Y/n is damn near astounded.

“I guess that’s the signal,” Sam’s voice comes in from the comms.

As soon as the shock fades, T’Challa charges at her again and she does the same. Running at him, she uses the momentum kneeing him in the chest. He stumbles back a little, she takes that moment to kick him in the back of calve, disbalancing him to make him fall and as he falls, she strikes him in the chest. 

With that, she glitches away.

“Y/n, you coming?” Steve asks over the comms.

“I don’t know,” she answers honestly, spotting Vision who’s eyes are set on Steve and Bucky who are running towards the quinjet.

She’s glitching in and out. Popping out of her dimension to attack Vision and then popping back in to stop herself from falling. It’s a fucking taxing thing, fighting an super-enhanced android with weird magic powers in the air, especially when you can’t fly.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Sam asks her on the radio.

“It means I’m fucking thinking about it!” She bites back.

“What’s there to think about?” Clink asks.

“I don’t know!” She glitches into her dimension. “Fuck” She says to herself, then glitches out. “Something about my responsibility in all this—I don’t fucking know!”

And then Vision decides to shoot a beam at her with the mindstone. Her armour deflects but the force throws her to the ground. 

The fall hurts, it aches. It makes her ache in places she hasn’t ached since HYDRA had her. It’s all very fucking meloncholy if you ask her. So, you cannot blame her when she lies on her ass for a couple seconds, trying to recuperate. 

Meanwhile, Vision uses his beam to cut the control tower in half. It begins to collapse over the entrance to the hanger the quinjet is in. Wanda tries to hold off the debris from crumbling to the ground, keeping the way clear for Steve and Barnes who are fast approaching on foot. However, Rhodey intervenes, blasting her with a sonic boom, making her loose control. 

All of that is for naught, though, because Steve and Bucky do make it in. 

“Need a hand?” A gold-titanium allow hand, painted bright red is extended to her.

She takes the hand, letting it help her stand on her feet. “Thanks,” she tells him. “Shouldn’t you be spending this time stopping them?” She asks, pointing at the scene unfolding behind them.

“I’m trying to stop you,” Tony says evenly. And then, before she can even tell him she’s not sure if he needs to, if what she really wants to do is stick around and fix it—she doesn’t know how exactly but she wants to try, if any of this is necessary, she hears a sound. It’s a sound that has become almost ambient to her, a sound that used to bring her comfort, a sound that used to mean there was someone watching her back—the sound of Tony’s repulsors being activated. 

She feels the hit before he even aims for it.

“Don’t make me stop you, Stark,” Tony says sofly, his eyes are welling up but so are hers. She has categorically avoided him the entire time, knowing full well that faced with him, she’d just surrender and find a way to escape at a later point. But this… This fucking hurts.

It burns her. It burns her from within. 

The man doesn’t even have to take the shot to make her bleed. 

But his arms come up to aim the repulsors at her anyway.

“Really?” She asks him.

“I don’t want to do this,” he begs.

It doesn’t matter though, it doesn’t fucking matter because he is doing it. He’s aiming at her. Her baby brother is aiming his weapons at her, hesitantly but he’s aiming nonetheless. It fucking breaks her her. 

Her hands clench into fists. A tear escapes her eyes. And a single word slips out of her lips “Traitor.” 

She glitches away. 

When she glitches out, she’s facing Natasha. 

As their eyes meet, Natasha fires a widow bite from her wrist. Y/n waits for the hit but it never comes, turning back she met with T’Challa, who’s being incapacitated by the low voltage shocks from the widow bite.

“Oh,” Y/n notes, turning back at Natasha.

Her brows forrow at that reaction. “What?” When all Y/n does is point at T’Challa behind him, Nat continues, “What are you waiting for? Go!” 

“I—I’m not going…” she answers, dumbly. “I came here to stop you from stopping—” her eyes fly to Barnes and Steve who are already inside the jet. “—them…”

“Not going?” Natasha asks, with a smile.

Clenching her jaw, Y/n replies, “Not yet.”

Natasha just nods at her.

As the two super soldiers take off, T’Challa frees himself and tries to grab onto the jet but fails inevitably, landing easily on the ground.

He comes to face Natasha and even with the mask on Y/n can practically see how pissed off he is.

“I said I'd help you find him, not catch him. There's a difference,” Natasha tells him with a somewhat false sense of confidence, knowing very well herself that she’s lying. 

This is awkward, is all Y/n can think as she stands between the two of them.

As the three of them make their way out, she watches as Lang is going down in all his (Gi)Ant-Man might, Spider-Man’s webbing tied around his legs. Tony and Rhodey punch him out of the sky and Y/n can see the last vestiges of her ‘side’ crumbling.

In front of her, a few meters ahead, Vision has Wanda in her grasp, holding onto her and protecting her gently. 

While the jet flies off, Rhodey and Tony both take off after it, Sam is hot on their trails. Either of the two iron-men must call out an order because then Vision looks up at them in the sky. He uses the mind stone again, shooting off a beam. She’s sure it’s meant for Sam, but he folds away his wings, dropping altitude so the beam misses him entire, hitting Rhodey instead.

For the next minute or so, everything happens in slow-motion. 

Rhodey begins to fall. He begins falling from the sky.

Her confusion over his inaction only lasts a second but the moment its clear that the beam hit Rhodey’s core, shutting the suit down, Y/n runs into action. 

She begins glitching in and out, trying to get higher and closer to Rhodey, coming out only to calculate how much farther he is from her reach.

Glitch, need to be higher.

Glitch, need to be closer.

Glitch, need to be further.

Glitch, need to be faster.

She can reach him. She’s sure.

But…

But the ground is creeping in and Rhodey’s been falling for way too long.

She needs to slow his speed or he’ll—

No time to think. 

No time for anything but action.

The next time she glitches out, she grabs Rhodey.

“Y/n!” He yells out, afraid and lost.

“I got you,” she tells him. “I got you, Rhodey.”

She glitches him into her dimension, trying to decrease his speed. 

“FUCK!”

It’s not easy. 

Fuck it’s damn near impossible for her. 

She’s not good enough.

Especially not good enough at controlling her dimension when he’s been freefalling from the sky, in an impeccably heavy suit of weapons, and machine and metal. He’d been falling too long, with too much weight.

She holds onto him, making her dimension denser, not enough but still, denser. 

Manouvering herself under him, she extends her armour from her arms to span across her back. If she can’t slow him to a halt, she can cushion his fall.

When they glitch out of the dimension, the change in force hits them hard, slowing them down a little bit more. But the wind does not cooperate. The wind is a fucking bitch. Y/n cannot completely sustain the suits weight on her, but she tries her best.

As they brace themselves for what will undoubtedly be a rough fucking landing, the last thing she sees is Tony flying towards them.

They crash. 

The impact creates a fucking pit in the ground.

Before she can try helpless to move Rhodey off of her to check on him, Tony lands next to them and does it. 

He pulls off Rhodey’s face plate, and asks F.R.I.D.A.Y. to check his vitals.

“Heartbeat detected. Emergency medical is on its way,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replies.

His eyes fly over to Y/n then. Hand on her chest in an instant, He says, “ F.R.I.D.A.Y. assess damage.”

“I’m fine,” Y/n tries, pushing him off of her but the blood she coughs out makes it seem like an act.

“Six broken ribs and heavy internal bleeding, sir. But her hearbeat holding steady. Miss Stark will be fine till the emergency medical arrives.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. tells him.

Y/n doesn’t care, she tries to get up but struggles somewhat hopelessly. Tony’s hands come to help her and she manages to get onto her knees to look at Rhodey. 

He’s bleeding, she notes, from his nose. 

Her jaw clenches, eyes watering up.

Somewhere behind them, Sam lands on his feet and apologizes. Tony blasts him with his repulsors but Y/n can’t bring herself to give a damn.

Both siblings wait there—lost and scared, each with a hand on the chest of their best friend, and prayers on their lips to a God they stopped believing in, waiting for help to arrive.

Find the next part here. Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.

tag list : @aryksworld @freeflyingphoenix @arikarapli @just-anotherstan @justab-eautifulmess @ceo-of-daichi @roxannejblack @liketearsintherainn @paintballkid711 @starkleila @heyitsmereading @fairlygothparents @euphoria-svt @sidepartskinnyjeans @mini-kunoichi @third-broparcelicito @siwiecola @haleybutnotthecomet @mvaldez7821 @rockybutmakeitlame @romanoffswoman @ashpeace888 @hopeofwinter @percabethfangirl987 @lilfuturescars @hailqueenconquer

hit me up if you wanna be added to the tag list.

[maybeamiles]

Okay so you know how I said I was gonna do some worldbuilding? Well HERE IT IS. A very rough version of the founding myth of Illios (aka the nation where my story takes place). If you want some author's notes they're below the cut.

The archipelago of Illios is an unusual formation. Shaped like a crescent moon and surrounded on all sides by much larger powers, two of its three largest cities lie at the ends of each point of the crescent. It is said that long ago, before the mythical flooding of the (name) sea, the region was the tallest of a set of impassable mountains. Then a seafaring people driven from their homeland settled there, and became the people of Illios we know today. 

Of the many myths that tell of the nation’s history, perhaps none is more important than the tale of its founder, King (whathisname). It is said that when he was a child, he slew a great mountain lion that had wandered into his home village. He grew to become the leader of his home village, and half the children born in the village had to seek spouses outside their hometowns because of the risk of inbreeding caused by his promiscuity. 

His village grew to great renown and prosperity under his rule. It is said that he was the first to encourage Illios’ seafaring trades, and when his youngest daughter was set to be married, he called all the neighboring kings to his city. The young girl was an unparalleled beauty, with eyes and hair that matched the gold her father had amassed. She was believed to be the most beautiful girl in the world.

As the neighboring kings began to argue and bicker, saying that their sons deserved to marry the princess, offering gold and jewels as bribes and promising their undying loyalty should they be the object of her father’s favor. But when one young man was found murdered, things took a turn for the worse. 

To keep the peace, the king made every man swear a blood oath. His daughter would choose her husband from among the men, and if anyone ever took her from her chosen beau, the others would come to her father’s aid to retrieve the girl. And of course, a king from another island kidnapped her. 

The war raged for years, until the king had conquered every last piece of the islands that now make up the nation of Illios. He instated himself as its high king, and his rule brought about a new age of prosperity for the people of the land. Many tales are told of his conquest, and it is said that, at the end of his life, he ascended to godhood. 

Of course, historians believe that the man was far more complicated than the myths suggest, but you will find in Illios that the royal family tends to have children with golden hair or golden eyes, and throughout the country, children born with those features will often be said to be descendants of the old king, and blessed with carrying the nation’s future. As for what the king himself would think of his country? Who’s to say?

More wip-notes below the cut.

Okay so I'm tempted to name this guy Priam, cause he's inspired by both Priam (with his MANY kids) and agamemnon (with the whole conquering thing). But also ehhh I've got too many troy references already and at this point it's starting to feel a bit disrespectful. Like I am a thief and I like stealing names from pre-existing things for my own worldbuilding but everything I engage with that does steal is a bit more tasteful about it than I am. So I want to work on that.

The concept of ascension is something I just dreamed up recently, and I wanted to come up with a myth that might be told about the founding of the nation most of the story takes place in. I might have some time to explore what this King was actually like, what his motives might've been, and what he thinks of his country now. Playing into a rough concept of gods walking invisibly among their people. I'm also NOT a mythology person or a historian, or a religious studies scholar, or anything else like that, so a lot of this is like, my personal philosophy + what tickles my brain + what I get from reading things in my spare time.

Lots of stuff might change so I don't mind posting this before the story actually releases cause it's not really spoilers at all.

Also gold and divinity are gonna be HEAVILY associated in this story cause I think it's really fucking pretty, so yeah. That's a thing. Enjoy.

[submissivekillers]

Yo yo yoooi! Can I please have a lost boys x vamp reader who’s like the very first vampire to be born and she comes and meets the boys cause she’s traveling across the world to visit all her “children” - so basically ancient ass vamp reader who looks 20 something meets the lost boys cause she’s meeting the rest of her kind

like what i do? support me on kofi

ngl i basically pictured reader as a pre-milfication lady d while writing this jhgfdsa. brainrot!! also mild max slander

length: 2.2k

If there is one rule you’ve managed to learn over the long years of your existence, it is this: humans will take any opportunity to make fools of themselves. 

Santa Carla is no exception.

Even in the early morning before the hordes of hormone-addled humans descended on the beach, the air had been heavy with smoke and blood and sex, so strong it almost overpowered the scent of the sea even when you'd peeled off your sandals to wade in. In its own way, it's exhilarating; the anticipation had your old blood stirring, your excitement mounting as the sun dipped low and the crowds swelled. From the window of your little motel room, you'd had a wonderful view of the flood of humans that spilled onto the boardwalk, the vast majority of them young and already inebriated to some degree. Ripe for the picking.  

It's not humans that you're hunting for tonight, though. At least, not yet.  

At a leisurely pace, you wander the boardwalk, taking your time to enjoy the local color. You indulge in a vivid blue cloud of cotton candy, try a couple rides, win yourself a stuffed whale after breaking a few bottles and promptly gift it to the first kid you see. A belligerent twenty-something who stinks of beer tugs at the hem of your white dress as it swishes around your thighs and you break his wrist without a second thought, disappearing into the crowd long before his scream of pain is lost in the echo of blaring music and shrieks of sugar-fueled glee. 

You're in line behind a gaggle of chattering teens at an ice cream stand when your nerves prickle, feeling the weight of eyes on the back of your neck. Without turning, you inhale, nose wrinkling as the acrid smell of old blood fills your nose. They absolutely reek of the stuff - it's so strong that you're a little surprised even the humans aren't picking up on it. But then again, maybe they just can't pick it out under the layers of weed and exhaust smoke.

The teens disperse, laden with several precarious cones of ice cream, and the bored woman behind the counter waves you up. You open your mouth, but there's an arm around your waist before you can say a word, a cool body pressed against your side. A ringed hand slaps a crumpled five-dollar bill on the counter, mismatched bracelets jingling with the motion. 

"We got the lady's order tonight, Peggy," comes a voice from your other side. You glance over the top of your glasses (cheap, heart-shaped things rimmed in vivid pink, scavenged from last night's meal) and meet the gaze of a cherubic blond, his pale blue eyes calculating as he worries his thumbnail between his teeth.  

The arm around your waist squeezes tighter. You turn your head, tilting your chin slightly so you can lock eyes with another pair of baby blues. They sparkle at you mischievously as your fellow vampire, bends to whisper in your ear, teased blond mane tickling your nose. "What can I get for you, baby girl?" 

You make a show of considering your options, pouting faintly as you prop a hand under your chin. You slip your other hand around his waist, idly toying with the mesh of his ridiculous fishnet top and grinning when he shivers at the scrape of your painted nails. "Chocolate shake, I think," you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. "Are you getting anything?"

Rocker boy shakes his head, tips you an exaggerated wink as he shoves the fiver towards the increasingly petrified-looking cashier. "Nah, all yours tonight."

"Sweet of you," you chirp, popping up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. He beams at you sunnily, shooting an excited glance at the cherub over the top of your head.

Peggy pushes your shake over the counter, lid only half-on in her haste to get the three of you away from her little stand. You manage to flash her a smile (aiming for sympathetic, but perhaps landing closer to smug) before you're pulled away, happily taking a sip of your drink as the cherub comes to walk at your side, trapping you between their bodies. You address the rocker first, catching the way his eyes dart down to catch you licking the ice cream from your lips. "You got a name?" 

"You can call me Paul, baby," he purrs, then wiggles his brows at you suggestively. "Or daddy, if ya want." 

You snort around the straw of your shake, unable to resist the grin that tugs at the corners of your mouth. It's definitely one of the more low-effort pickup lines you've ever heard, but something about him - the goofy little eyebrow waggle, the answering grin when you laugh at him like he knows exactly how ridiculous he is, his overall puppyish manner - manages to push it over the line from sleazy to charming. "You should be so lucky."

"I'd be the luckiest man in the world, I think," he flashing you a smile that's slower, more seductive than his cheesy grin - the kind of smile that would make any pretty young human a little more willing to spread their thighs. 

It's perhaps more effective on you than you care to admit, but you ignore the lazy heat that curls down your spine, turning to bat your eyes at the cherub. "How 'bout you, handsome?" 

"Marko," he says shortly. His face is young, but he's definitely the older one here - you can always tell by the eyes. "And you're on our turf."

"What, a girl can't take a little vacation in peace? I thought this was a free country," you huff in mock indignance.

Marko narrows his eyes at you. "Free country, maybe. Not free hunting grounds." He gnaws his thumbnail again, scanning you like he's trying to judge a threat - though it seems he can't help lingering for a long moment on the bare skin of your thighs. "Mind coming with us? David wants to meet you." 

David. The name is familiar - Max's first, if you recall. From what you'd heard, he could be quite a territorial creature. 

Paul, perhaps mistaking your thoughtfulness for unease, squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. "Hey, you're not in trouble. We just wanna make sure you're cool, you know?" His thumb draws steady circles over the arch of your shoulder blade. "This is our turf, but if you're not gonna cause any trouble, you'll be okay." 

The expression on Marko's face makes you doubt Paul's optimism, but you play along, curling a hand around his bicep and leaning in. "But what if I like causing trouble?" 

Paul grants you another sunny grin. "Then you can cause trouble with us," he murmurs against the shell of your ear. "I bet we could show you a good time." 

Marko clears his throat, distracting you from your flirting, and you're suddenly aware of the scent of blood grown stronger - along with the pungent smell of motor oil. Looking ahead, you see a group of bikes before you, two more vampires leaning against their respective rides. 

Both handsome, and you can tell they're both strong - but it's clear from a glance which one is the leader. 

"Thanks for fetching our guest," the blond - David, you know instinctively - rumbles, his voice a warm, sardonic purr. He looks you up and down, the weight of his eyes like a physical thing. "Welcome to Santa Carla."

"Do you give all visitors a personal welcome?"

"Only the interesting ones." He smiles at you, the edge of a fang glinting in the light. "Come with us. There's someone you should meet." 

You lift a brow. "Oh? And here I figured you were the one in charge around here?" 

"I am, don't get it twisted," he shoots back lazily, pulling a battered pack of cigarettes from inside his duster. "But our sire wants to meet you." 

"Ah, so you're the lead enforcer," you muse, nodding. David gives you a look caught between exasperation and amusement and takes point as you're herded after him. "And you?" You chirp, turning to the dark-haired boy who walks behind you. 

He blinks languidly at you. "...Dwayne." 

Strong and silent. You can appreciate that in a man. 

You're lead to a video shop in the center of the boardwalk, fielding Paul's flirting, Marko's questions, and Dwayne's cautious stare as you go. David walks slightly ahead of the rest of you, puffing on a cigarette and occasionally glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

As you approach the door you hear Dwayne sniff, his rumble of "Maria's not here yet," barely audible even to your heightened senses. 

"Good," David murmurs, pulling open the door with a merry chime of the little bell. He bows his head, making a sweeping gesture to usher you by. "After you."

Drifting inside, you're assaulted by flickering screens and lurid posters, a storm of color and noise. You run a fingertip down the spine of a videotape, but a whimper draws your attention. Bending at the waist, you catch sight of Max's hound hiding under a desk, watching you with ears pinned flat to his skull. 

Shame, really. You found him rather cute, but the beast had always been terrified of you. 

A familiar scent reaches your nose, and a familiar face follows soon after - though he's changed significantly since the last time you saw him. The trappings of the modern world suit him well, you have to admit; the thick glasses lend a sort of non-threatening charm to his face, which you suppose is the point.

"Thorn, what's gotten into"—he stops so quickly his shoes squeal against the floor, the friendly shopkeeper guise dropping in the space of a blink—You." 

"Maxie." You greet, inclining your head. "You look... alive. In a manner of speaking, of course." 

He steps between you and the hound, hands curled into tense fists at his sides. "What are you doing here?" 

"Just sightseeing, really," you say soothingly, holding up your hands in surrender. "Figured the time was ripe to catch up with the world, see how all my little birds are doing. Carmilla sends her love, by the way." 

"This is my territory," Max hisses through his teeth, eyes bleeding yellow. "You know you can't be here without prior notice, it's law—" 

You sigh through your nose and snap your fingers. "Maximillian, kneel."

He falls to his knees hard enough that the tile cracks under his weight. You step closer, lifting his chin to meet his furious glare; he visibly strains against your order, a vein pulsing in his temple. You have no doubt that he would tear your throat out if given the chance.

But you've been alive entirely too long to let a little upstart like Max get the better of you.  

"I'm not here to cause trouble," you say, calmly, but firm. "But I made the laws, Max. You would do well not to forget that." 

He bares his teeth at you, face fully transformed to reveal the beast within. You look at him impassively for a moment, then sigh, turning on your heel and edging past a stunned Dwayne. "I'll meet you outside, boys."  

You push through the door with more force than strictly necessary, the tinkle of the bell almost mocking your dampened mood. Disappointing. Max had always clashed with you, even if he lacked the nerve to do anything about it. You'd hoped that a few hundred years apart might have cooled his animosity towards you, but clearly that was too much to hope for. 

You suck on your straw, making a face at the airy rattle you get instead of ice cream. All out of milkshake, and still so thirsty.  

The bell jingles again, heralding the approach of Max's coven. "I apologize for not warning you," you say before any of them can speak, twirling your empty cup. "I did have a feeling Max would react badly to seeing me. He's always been a bit of a cunt when things don't go his way." 

"How old are you?" Marko blurts. 

"Don't you know it's rude to ask a lady's age?" You tut, waving a finger in mock-indignation. "Really. No manners at all."

David steps forward, eyes glittering in the neon lights. "You turned Max." 

"No," you say, smiling to show off the long, curving points of your canines. "But I turned his sire. And I turned the sire before her, too." 

Glances are exchanged. Dwayne and David hold each other's gaze for a long moment, then Dwayne breaks away to glance at Marko, murmuring something just quietly enough that you don't catch it. Paul smiles, curious and admiring, and when David looks back at you there's a cautious interest written in the lines of his face. 

"Tell you what," you purr, looping your arms around David's neck. His gloved hands come to rest on your hips, leather creaking as he idly kneads the flesh hidden beneath soft cotton. "My throat's feeling a little dry. Why don't you boys take me for a drink, and then I’ll answer a few questions."

[qiqi-media]

How I feel about Mal Bertha and her character PART 1

 This is not a Mal bertha Biography and it is biased in the sense that I don’t like her at all. Read with caution.

Descendants 2 was actually the first movie of the trilogy that I had watched. My little sister was watching it and I happened to be passing by and sat to watch it with her when it caught my eye. 2017 me had a completely different opinion of Mal bertha than today not because I was younger but simply because D3 hadn’t come out yet and I hadn’t watched the first movie or even knew there was books. I can’t stand Mal bertha, not even the D1 version of her and that’s the one even Mal antis love. I didn’t like her in the first movie but it was more of a “I wouldn’t be friends with her.” I didn’t think that she was unforgiveable and that it was impossible to give her a second chance. She made her own bad choices but she expressed genuine regret for them and was only 16. Despite me, loathing Mal’s existence I related to her in sense that it’s scary wanting to change but you don’t know whether or not your actions have caused too much damage. 

In D2 watching it as a stand alone I saw a girl wanting something other than the ‘happily ever after’ and deciding she would go for what would make her happy when she went back to isle. I was desperately hoping that after the ‘It’s going down’ scene that she would go back to the isle and not choose to stay somewhere she wanted to leave. But we know how that went and the ending left me bitter and sad not for her, but for Uma. She began to leave a bitter taste in my mouth when she broke up with Ben and came back and just expected him to get back together with her. I’m going to go around every version of her character.

PRE D1

She was a dick. That’s the simplest way I can put it. I don’t like even acknowledging pre d1 Mal because it leaves me with this very negative view of her character that I don’t think was necessary. I feel like this is a big fuck up, wanting to have Mal be her ‘evilest’ before coming to Auradon. I understand the reason why they wanted to show her growth and change throughout the series. But after looking at some real life scenarios with a similar Mal situation it made me look at it differently. Imagine this: someone who severely bullied you and harassed you and everyone around getting to go to a new place and get the best treatment there, then she’s congratulated with becoming queen of that land and not only that she then decides she’s going to be queen of the place she was bullying and harassing people at without ever properly apologizing. This happens in real life and these people get exposed which is why I don’t like it. It would be different if Mal actual grew throughout the series but it was real just her gaining more power and the scenery changing from Pre D1-D3. She also continued to make the same type of ‘mistakes’ with no actual direct consequences all she had to do was cry and they forgave her. She would be okay if it Descendants was a stand alone movie. But knowing the type of life she would get to live after all of this behavior puts me off from reading it. It would also be different if Mal lived a simple life in Auradon (Aka not trying to take control by dating the king and then stepping all over said king) She got more than what she deserved to have. In my opinion she did deserve the chance at all better life just like all the other kids who didn’t commit any crimes to be locked up. But in the eyes of people she victimized she wouldn’t deserve to be Queen become royalty, live in castles and get gifted with limos and bikes. 

D1

 D1 is the version of Mal everyone generally likes however, like I stated before I didn’t like her even then. At the start we see someone who is clearly trying to please her mother so if her mother wants bad behavior she gives her that. Throughout the main plot she did things of her own accord that she can’t use her mom as an excuse for. There’s a couple different things but a lot of them had to do with Ben and I’m making a whole post on how Ben was treated like shit throughout the franchise so that will be addressed then and not in this post. However for a reference she drugged him with a spelled cookie into falling in love with her for the wand. He wasn’t even willing to eat the cookie at first but she guilt tripped him into eating it. We could brush this off as her doing whatever she needed to do to get to the crown but to me she took advantage of the situation by actually going on dates with him. He was already spelled and willing to listen to whatever she wanted so besides for her own personal interest why would she go on the dates? (Granted a 16 year old wanting to get cute and have a nice date with a nice boy is not a fault or wrong in any way the fault here is all of this was happening when Ben was not in his right state of mind until the spell washed off.) Her taking advantage of Jane’s insecurities was not cool either and I’m interested in what ways she would’ve tried to use Jane if it was easier to get to the wand through her. Since her main crime in my opinion was Ben and since he’ll have his own essay post I’ll focus on Audrey here.

Her disrespect to Audrey

It was unnecessary, she had no reason to have had Audrey’s name in her mouth as much as she did D1. It would make more sense for Mal to like Audrey’s sassy boldness to me not shit talk her every chance she got. At the start they had a small passive aggressive conversation that could’ve just been left at that because technically they burred the hatchet between the two families. It was a “hey I don’t fuck with you, you don’t fuck with me” type of a situation that could’ve grown civil. However, throughout the movie in comparison to Audrey who really just had a problem with Mal’s mother until she spelled ben then it became direct problems with each other. Mal was continuously talking shit about Audrey as if Audrey was the one who fucked with her family. This time her upbringing can be referenced, on the Isle she most likely was allowed to openly hate things and Audrey was most likely raised to at least pretend to be polite. But from the Audrey we’ve seen she clearly doesn’t care about holding her tongue she’s straightforward with how she feels and she didn’t have a problem with Mal she had a problem with her mother. The only time she talked about Mal directly was about the hair spells which she ended up being right about (Mal’s addictive reliance on magic in D2 and Jane at the end of D1).  After completely ignoring Audrey’s feelings and literally stole her boyfriend (not even on the the you can’t steal a loyal man type of shit she literally stole him he wasn’t even allowed to consent to it.) She later in Audrey’s Diary multiple times tries to reason this with she never meant to directly hurt Audrey and that she didn’t really want Ben she just wanted the wand etc etc. The evidence doesn’t back this up Mal, you’ve made your disdain for Audrey clear and talked shit about her to Evie right after you spelled Ben the did I mention bs claiming “Chad will see her horrible personally” as if you knew her personally and that Chad didn’t grow up with her. Mal can say she didn’t mean to hurt Audrey but she clearly didn’t mind that she did.

 I’m going to make a whole separate on Audrey and how I do think she gets a lot of slack because people can relate to her, but also how her treatment in comparison to Mal’s is unfair. 

 I did think she deserved a chance to show remorse for her behavior (spoiler: she didnt) Again, I like to look at things from the pov of other characters for things like this. If I was an Auradon kid who was friends with Mal and ended up finding out she was using me and plotting to take over and destroy the place I lived with/for her mother but changed her mind last minute. I would see her as forgivable I just wouldn’t want her around me. In other words I would expect her to start her own new life, not continue trying to live the one where she was plotting without even actually apologizing to people. AU: After descendants instead of continuing to date Ben she breaks it off and goes to an Art school frequently coming back to visit Auradon and after high school she goes on a quest (with the C4 of course) exploring all kinds of different kingdoms and countries because she was locked up on the isle her whole life. In the future she possibly returns to Auardon and even could get back together with Ben with a proper start.

D2

The first Descendants Movie I ever saw so it holds a special place with me and I actually rooted for Mal the first time I watched it. I sat in to watch at the argument scene and knowing all of the plots now and after rewatching  it my opinion has change greatly. We see a blonde and very stressed Mal who’s dealing with the pressures of becoming a royal in order to secure her place with Ben. I do feel bad for Mal when she was talking to Evie, she was trying to reach out to her friend about her situation and was basically told to stop talking about it. I understand Evie’s feelings of wanting to leave the past behind but I can also understand Mal feeling like she’s cornered and can’t even talk to her best friend. I can also understand her feelings of ending up overwhelmed with her decisions from going to somebody who did whatever whenever to becoming a royal with duties I get the pressure. If Mal decided that wasn’t the life she wanted to live and went back to the isle where she felt more comfortable I don’t see anything wrong with that. She wasn’t required to stay in Auradon if she felt like she was unhappy there. That says a little something about Auradon to me if somebody would rather live where they ate rotten food than live there.  My sympathy for Mal stops there because everything else was a result of her own actions and things she brought onto herself.

1. The royal situation

Let’s get one thing clear nobody was forcing Mal to hand sign up for the prime and proper royal life. She did that herself.

Nobody told her that she had to dye her hair blonde and have a complete wardrobe change, she did.

Nobody said she even had to continue the terrible relationship she had with Ben and go straight into being a royal in order to basically become Ben’s wifey, she did.

She’s saying all of these people are expecting things of her when 6 months ago she was stealing candy from babies when she was the one who let people have these expectations. She decided to take up the role herself because that was what she wanted. Let’s be honest with how it happened Mal would not live in Auradon if she had to be a regular citizen she wanted to be in control of everybody and to have power because that how she always lived. However once she realized that nobody was just about to hand her this power just for being with Ben unlike with her Mom  (getting to rule the isle just because she was her daughter and not because she actually worked her way up there) and that she actually had duties and work to fulfill if she wanted to be the boss. She let her pride get in the way by feeling she had to prove she could last with Ben and become an Auradon girl and ended up miserable and blaming Ben for  something she decided to do herself.

She then had the responsibility to fulfill all of those duties and she was struggling unlike anybody else who would’ve had to abide by the “don’t use magic” quote on quote rule she decided to use Magic after claiming she’d give it up and was still a hot ass mess. She can’t even use the excuse that was to help her with her lady in training because she was using it to not be late to class and later to try and manipulate Ben.  @ishiphumasohard made a good response on why it was unfair for Mal to use magic as her ‘right’ because at what point would it be unfair to other kids? While all the other kids have to show up on time to school Mal gets to use magic to turn back time instead of just being on time. If other kids studied all night for a test Mal can use a speed reading spell. If there was a cooking contest Mal can spell her way into a feast while the others would have to the actual labor. You get the point, because magic is not universally used by everyone in Auradon and it’s an unspoken rule that it’s not to be used then she should have followed this rule.

I will say the girl was stressed and was feeling alone, I already gave my sympathies for that.

The magic situation really hit the fan when she felt comfortable enough to spell the boyfriend who had already put enough trust in her to continue their relationship that started with her drugging him for her own benefit. Compared to her Ben did seem to be taking it easy but maybe like her, he didn’t want to show it. It seems Ben and Mal had a sort of pack to work hard together to become ‘the king and queen’ of Auradon they were supposed to be in it together. In my opinion it would make more sense for Ben to be hiding things from Mal than the other way around due to the nature of their shitty relationship. But that’s just not how it went down and after Mal tries to spell Ben into not finding her spellbook he gets RIGHTFULLY ANGRY. That entire scene was her fault, she could’ve explained herself and why she was using magic and that she was having a hard time but she once again decides to take advantage of Ben’s trust. Then proceeds to make sure she ends the  fight with her being the victim. So much so that the entire fact that she spelled Ben was never brought up again.

Going back to the isle 

She then decides to go back to the isle, if this was really her decision I wouldn’t mind it. There’s nothing wrong with her liking the isle better than Auradon if that’s where she felt at home. The problem was she was clearly emotional and let’s be honest, if she had called all of her friends together and actually broke up with Ben and told them this was her decision to go back to the isle before leaving they MIGHT (hard might) not have ran after her like they did. Not only that the duties that we were speaking of earlier, she didn’t formally pull out of anything which is why it irked me when she was so irritated that they came back for her.

Some people actually didn’t like her attitude as soon as she got back on the isle because she expected to run it. That wasn’t surprising to me honestly, because for her whole life that’s how it was, only person she was scared of was her mother. She quickly realized however now that her mom isn’t around and in lizard form nobody was scared of her. Most unrealistic part of D2 was how Mal didn’t get jumped as soon as people realized she got back. Like I said Isle Mal was a straight dickhead and had too many enemies to be walking around like she was. 

Another point was when she got her hair dyed by dizzy, the shop wasn’t open, she saw this, ignored it and went in anyway. Not even because her and Dizzy were tight like that she just expected her to do what she wanted (get the pattern with Mal here?)

 Skipping her scene with harry because it did nothing to the plot.

The rest of the C4 and Ben come to get Mal back as expected and she acts all surprised and angry. Ben apologizes to her and instead of apologizing for what she did and then explaining that she doesn’t want to go back to Auradon and be a lady of the court. She continues the narrative that Ben wanted her to change and that she’s not good for Auradon so she’s going to stay on the isle. What’s the difference between the two? The first one is her taking responsibility of her actions and deciding for herself that that’s not the life she wants. While the other is acknowledging none of the blame and deciding to run away not because that’s not what she really wants but because everyone will turn on her so she has to run first. It painted a narrative that nothing of this was her own doing while at the same time making it seem like she is doing the right thing by backing away which in hindsight probably was the better decision. Mal’s feelings weren’t the problem I understand them, she thinks she won’t be accepted as herself so she wants to leave before they can kick her out but that’s not what caused her to leave and she knows it. You got caught doing something shitty and instead of apologizing you ran away.

After Ben gets kidnapped she lectures the C4, again she does have some blame in this. With the way the fight ended it made it look like Ben was in the wrong so he was going to try and apologize regardless if they brought him or not. The rest of them came to keep him safe and as her gang members come back for her. Was this not something she considered after she calmed herself down? Ben honestly had no reason to be directly on the isle unprotected besides to sneak and apologize to you so are you really going to just blame the C4 for bringing him there and getting him captured?

Then when Uma, who has him captured plans a meeting she antagonizes her like that’s what is best for Ben at the time. Even in the mist of Ben being in danger she thought it was a good idea to try and piss off the person holding him captive. If you don’t remember what she did she called her shrimpy, insulted the smell of the restaurant and said she never thought of Uma while implying that Uma always had her on her mind for no reason. None of that was necessary to ask what Uma’s conditions were to give Ben back she just couldn’t help herself. 

She didn’t care about Dizzy

Who had just performed a task for her and right after she paid her got robbed and had the place trashed just for Mal to say she’ll be alright. This should’ve been foreshadowing at the very least that she wasn’t ready to be making decisions for other people’s lives because besides her own and her friends she didn’t care for many especially those on the isle.

It’s going down

Even though it was in the song and not directly her words again antagonizing the person who has Ben held captive and threatening his life, insulting them is stupid. This entire scene is messy and they shouldn’t even had been able to win a fight against pirates outnumbered. When has Mal ever picked up a sword???

Car ride Back

She gets mad when Ben has sympathy/ shows understanding for Uma. She somehow realizes that it’s wrong Uma kidnapped him but was comfortable spelling him without a second thought. In my opinion she thought she had some type of ownership over Ben she could do what she wanted to him and if somebody else did it was wrong. (Even though this can be applied to what she did in D1, I’m only talking about D2 because most people agree she showed regret for her actions in D1) When he calls her out on her hypocrisy she goes mute and does that thing, of letting her mouth hang opened whenever she gets called out on her shit.

END OF PART 1

I was going to make this one long post but I’ve been putting this off long enough so here is part 1, no idea when part 2 will be up. I do hope to have the Ben posts up before that.

[nethandrake]

i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.

stevetony. mcu. rated t. high school/bakery au feat. pre-serum!steve. 4k words.

for @noririna / @venusiaries

also on ao3.

*****

Steve’s imagination has entertained the most outrageous things over the years. Take the time he thought he was the descendant of Captain America, for example (he was five, sue him). Or maybe the time he thought he saw God when Scott Lang accidentally nailed him on the head with a football because concussions.

But that’s the thing about the imagination, they’re just figurative. Most of the stuff that swims Steve’s brain has a very, very low possibility of coming true.

So no one should blame him for almost walking into a wall when Tony fucking Stark shows up at his mother’s bakery one Friday night.

Sure, Steve’s thought about it over the years, thought about it the moment he laid eyes on Tony, came up with various scenarios on how it’d go down, what they’ll say, what they’ll do.

But he’s never thought it’ll ever happen. Tony fucking Stark shouldn’t know of Steve’s existence. Tony fucking Stark, son of one of the richest people on the planet and one of the most popular kids at school, shouldn’t know of scrawny, weak Steve Rogers’ existence.

His hands begin to shake as Tony strides over towards the counter, a lazy grin plastered on his face. The familiar scent of grease and mint waft through the air as Tony closes the distance between them.

And that’s when everything comes crashing down on him.

His crush is here.

His crush is going to be standing in front of him in a second.

His crush, who doesn’t know about his existence, is going to be standing in front of him in a second and he

Steve should duck back in the back, demand his mother serve Tony while he completes his little freak-out alone. But of course, like the idiot he is, he blurts out, “It’s you,” instead.

Tony’s lips quirk to the side, his eyes glinting under the ceiling lights. They’re so much prettier up close. So much prettier, holy shit. They're so brown.

“You know who I am?”

Steve couldn’t help but preen at the flirty tone directed at him before quickly reeling his pleasure in. Tony flirts with everyone. It’s how he communicates. Steve shouldn’t be happy about something like this.

“Of course I do! You’re—You’re—”

You’re the guy I’ve been crushing on since we were kids.

“You’re Tony Stark,” he says instead. “Everyone knows who Tony Stark is.”

For some reason, Steve’s reply causes Tony to deflate. “Oh.”

Backtrack, Steve. Fucking backtrack.

“I mean, you’re also the guy in my Lit class,” Steve quickly amends. “You sit behind me. ”

Tony lets out a laugh and god, it's so pretty too. It's bad enough that he looks pretty. But his laugh? Sounding pretty? It's downright criminal.

“I'm pretty sure I know who sits in front of me, Steve.”

Okay, now Steve has to be dreaming.

“You know who I am?” Steve squeaks out.

Tony’s brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t I know you?”

Steve feels his cheeks heat up. “I’m a nobody. A nobody—”

“A nobody who squared off against Rumlow and his goons last week. All seven of them.”

Steve ignores the sting that hits his heart. Because of course, that’s how Tony knows him. How could Steve forget about his own little reputation? No one ever takes notice of scrawny little Steve Rogers unless he’s getting beaten up.

“And lost.”

“And lost,” Tony echoes kindly. “But you did, anyway. You stood up for Peter. And all the other times you stood up to the bullies at school. It’s amazing.”

If Steve's cheeks were warm before, they're definitely on fire now. He knows how much Peter Parker means to Tony. Their close brotherly relationship, something that warms Steve’s heart.

“Oh. Uh, thanks.”

Tony grins, leaning over with his arms on the counter. He has several inches over Steve, his gorgeous brown eyes boring into Steve’s. Just the thought of their height difference does funny things to Steve’s pathetic heart.

He is never, ever telling anyone about his size kink. It’s already bad enough his own friends tease him mercilessly about it. He doesn’t need to add Tony to the mix.

“Let me just say if I was there, I would’ve totally jumped in. No one messes with Peter. I’m glad you were there.” Tony exhales and fuck, their faces are close, so close that Steve can feel Tony’s warm breath. “And your boyfriend.”

Steve whips his head up in alarm. “My boyfriend?”

Tony nods slowly, as if it physically pains him to do so. “Yeah. James Barnes, right? I think you call him Bucky?”

A flash of his best friend’s face pops up in his head. Steve banishes it before he gets more grossed out.

“No! He’s not— I’d never— That’d be like dating your brother! Gross!”

Tony looks relieved at that, his lips curl upwards. “I don't have a brother so I can't really say,” he snorts. “But I get you. I get that shit all the time with Rhodey.”

Steve mentally files that information for later. He won’t lie, he’s one of the many people who thought that way. Good thing he’s proven wrong from the source himself.

He is so glad his mother isn’t out here witnessing him fail at communication. So fucking glad.

“So,” he begins, clearing his throat, “anything I can do to help you tonight?”

Tony straightens. All of a sudden, he looks nervous. Steve can’t remember the last time he’s seen Tony nervous. In fact, he doesn't think he's ever seen Tony nervous.

“Yeah. I was, uh… You know Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, right?”

And just like that, Steve’s heart breaks into two.

*****

read the rest on ao3.

[opalmaplehibiscus]

This Wasn’t Supposed to Happen

Hello Anon! OwO I’m sorry that I’m so late for this!!! I can’t believe I’m releasing this 3 days late when it was intended for Twstober: Ink/Overblot!!!!!!! ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚ I hope you enjoy this though     

·    Everyone knows how the saying goes: “Sticks and bones may break my bones, but words would never hurt me”. A saying that was supposed to mean words aren’t meant to hurt people

·       Yet, everyone knows all too well that’s a lie – a false statement

·       Maybe because everyone knows that, Jamil purposely pours his hatred towards Kalim – not sugar coating one single bit of how much he blames and hates Kalim for his pain, for his sufferance

·       Yes, get hurt from it just like how much pain you’ve given me, he would think as he sees Kalim’s eyes start being filled with pain, betrayal, and sadness

·       He expected Kalim to beg him why, to ask him questions, not for Kalim to mutter that he understands with the follow up of “I can’t take it anymore”

·       It was him that was constantly using his Unique Magic on others – heck even on the whole dorm! But, why was Kalim the one to overblot instead?

·       Jamil snaps at Grim and Floyd, telling them to shut up when they start telling him how he just caused Kalim to OB, preparing to attack when OB Kalim descends

·       He wants to sneer and add some more insult to the wound he just gave to Kalim as he listens to Kalim saying how tired he was, how he couldn’t handle it anymore

·       What did Kalim mean that he couldn’t handle it anymore? That he’s tired of everyone? Does he know how much he went through all because he was forced to serve him?

·       Now he has to deal with Kalim complaining while OBing? Seriously, are you kidding him?

·       Jamil could feel his blood boil in anger, frustration, and all the stress he had pent up inside him, not able to handle Kalim’s crying as he sobs how he only wanted to make people happy

·       So naïve, so innocent, so stupid! Stupid! STUPID!

·       But, just when he’s about to attack, Jamil pauses

·       Confusion fills his minds as he hears Kalim talks about his past – a past that even Jamil, himself, was not aware

·       When did Kalim ever cursed about being part of the Al-Asim family? When did Kalim ever defended himself against the poisoners and assassins?

·       What did Kalim mean when he says he hates the concept of fate, feeling imprisoned by something was “pre-destined” to him? That he hated his own existence?

·       Questions forms in his head, wondering when everything Kalim was stating ever happened. Death? Killing in front of Kalim’s eyes? Nightmares? When? How?

·       No, he didn’t know Kalim had night terrors, what do you mean Kalim had night terrors?

·       The anger in Jamil starts simmering down as he listens to everything Kalim encountered, how much he went through but held it in because he didn’t want to trouble anymore

·       He never once thought Kalim could hold such dark thoughts or experience such gruesome memories yet….how did he not notice?

·       Without him realizing it, his hand holding his magic pen goes down as Jamil starts feeling something else, something he thought he would never ever feel: guilt

·       He didn’t realize how much he meant to Kalim – how big of a mental pillar was towards the person he was serving

·       Did he really make Kalim that happy whenever he was just by his side? Just by listening to whatever he wanted to talk about?

·       When he didn’t give a crap about Kalim, Kalim cared for Jamil because he ended up becoming his one and only friend that stayed by his side this whole time? Despite being master and servant?

·       But what was worse, worse than everything he just heard was how much Kalim knew about him

·       In the past, he would always blush when Kalim would suddenly complement him, praising him about Jamil, himself

·       Yet, when hearing about his very own being so accurately, precisely, even parts he never knew about himself by the same person he once looked down on – does anyone knows how horrifying that feeling is?

·       The feeling that the master you thought of as a fool knew you so well that he expected you to betray him at some point – but still felt hurt because he wanted you to prove him wrong. The fact that he still closed his eyes for your sake, because he didn’t want anything to happen to you since he’s FULLY. AWARE. OF EVERYTHING. IN THE FAMILY.

·       Without himself realizing it, Jamil lowers his magic pen as his brain comprehends and slowly making him realize how kind Kalim was towards him and how smart said boy actually was

·       Memorizing 40+ siblings; name, age, appearance, their likes, hobbies, and dislike. Joining NRC 2 months later not just because of the Al-Asims but he freaking completed his Unique Magic after it was announced Jamil was going to NRC – like what? How? That’s impossible

·       When Kalim screams how he wishes to disappear and unleashes his final and most powerful attack, Jamil yells for Kalim while extending his hand towards him in desperation, for redemption

·       By the time Kalim wakes up after successfully getting him out of OB, Jamil sighs in relief

·       Tears were pouring down his cheeks when he catches the KOed Kalim and waits for him to wake up

·       Not once did he move away, sitting right next to him and staring blankly at the ground as he continued to cry in silence

·       He gasps out Kalim’s name when Kalim asks in a mumble what happened, before he beaten to it by Jade and Azul who asks whether Kalim remembers everything that had happened

·       As Kalim attempts to sit up, Jamil moves to help only for Kalim to suddenly flinch and pull his arm away from him, as if touching fire

·       Awkwardness fills the room as Kalim realizes what he had just done before stuttering an apology to Jamil and telling him he could get up by himself

·       Jamil could only reply with “it’s fine”, for the first time feeling hurt that Kalim had actually told him to not help him

·       As the Octavinelle trio and Ramshackle duo fill Kalim in, Jamil doesn’t say a word as he falls into despair

·       This was something he wanted – something he had wished for. For Kalim to stop making him work and annoy the crap out of with his chaotic behavior

·       When Jamil tries to help Kalim again only for Kalim to this time move back and avoid his touch, his hands turns into fists as he sat there on the ground

·       “This wasn’t what I wanted.” He thinks to himself. “This isn’t how things were supposed to happen.”

[minuteminx]

Revolutionary

[NEW FIC ALERT!!]

Pairing: Preston Garvey/ Female Sole Survivor

Summary: In the aftermath of personal tragedies, Preston and Charlie both seek to make a difference in the Commonwealth and those around them. They could never anticipate the impact that they will have on eachother in the process.

[AO3 Link]

Chapter One: Paul Revere

“You cannot buy the revolution. You cannot make the revolution. You can only be the revolution. It is in your spirit, or it is nowhere.” ― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed

Qunicy Ruins, June 2288

When Preston was a kid, he’d sit with his dad on their tattered rug as the man picked lackadaisically at the strings of an ancient guitar.  He’d wax all sorts of poetic about the past, the times before the war, before the bombs fell, before everything was rads and raiders and running from bands of ferals.  It was that Great Commonwealth Myth of a pre-war paradise, of big ideals, and boundless opportunity.  A myth that one would hear refuted if they listened closely enough to grumbles from ghouls who’d managed to keep their sanity over the two centuries since the end of the world.

The myth was a lie, for sure, one Preston had clung to for most of his life.  But he couldn’t anymore, not as he stood staring at the massive pile of ashes that used to be his comrades and the settlers they attempted to protect.  The bastards who murdered all of those people were direct descendents from the monsters who made weapons with enough power to wipe entire regions off the map.  There was no paradise; it was just a prettier picture.

The Quincy settlement, if he could still call it that, looked a lot different since the last time he’d seen it, surrounded by junk fences and lined with barbed wire at the top.  Buildings were tagged with Gunner graffiti, and the streets were quiet as the mass grave that the settlement had turned out to be. It really didn’t make much sense.  Shouldn’t it have been some sort of bustling Gunner stronghold after Clint and his buddies went to all that trouble to claim it?

“I don’t like this,” Charlie remarked suddenly, her raspy voice a quick reminder that he wasn’t alone, hadn’t been alone for over eight months now.  He turned to face her, eyes flicking around the ruins to the seven other Minutemen who’d come along.  Millie was the only one who noticed him, and she gave him the least reassuring smile he’d ever seen.

“Neither do I,” he agreed as he returned his gaze to Charlie.  “Not one bit.”

“It wasn’t like this when I got away,” Millie added, glancing around the square, “I know that there had been mention of disagreements between Clint and the other bosses, probably because he has the leadership ability of a bloatfly.”

Preston smirked. “Now, Millie, I think that’s giving him too much credit.”

She laughed and opened her mouth to reply to him, but an explosion rang out instead as a launched projectile crashed into one of the buildings just ahead of them.  She eyed the area frantically before locking onto the rooftop of the church. “Shit. It’s Baker.”

“Baker?” He snapped his gaze up to the walkway, catching a glimpse of a figure clad in power armor and wielding a goddamned fat man.

“He’s one of the other bosses… and it looks like he found himself a new toy.”

Preston sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, running through the list of possible strategies in his head.  “We need to fall back,” he muttered under his breath decisively, then looked up to make the suggestion to Charlie, to the general, “We need to fall b--”

She’d already taken off toward the church, a pistol in either hand, without giving a single order to him or the others.  He wanted to drop everything and chase after her, to stop her from running directly into danger, just once. But someone had to give some kind of instruction before Baker launched a nuke directly on top of them.   He waved his hand over his head and back toward the gates, motioning for the others to head back out of the middle of town. “Fall back.  Head up to the walkways if you can.  We can’t win this from the ground.”

Millie remained where she stood as the others fled to safety.  “I’ll get these guys into position,” she stated, then nodded in the direction Charlie had run, “You go fetch your general.”

“But--” Another mini nuke exploded, in the distance this time, and his stomach lurched.  

“Go.”  She flicked her wrist in a shooing motion. “You’re not gonna be any use back here worried about her out there trying to pistol whip Baker to death.”

He snorted out a laugh despite the gravity of the situation, the image of the rail thin red-head successfully tackling him down, power armor and all, and smacking the butt of her favorite 10mm into his nose.  Honestly, he’d seen her get away with wilder things.  He tipped his hat at his long time friend, gave his musket a quick crank, and ran off after his wildcard general.

He faced little resistance on his way to the church, only a couple of Gunner conscripts crossed his path, and he was able to take them out easily.  It looked like a lot of their efforts were focused on Millie and the others at the gates and climbing up the walkways. It was for the best, but it didn’t make him worry any less for their safety.

When he finally reached the church, it was too quiet, especially for somewhere Charlie was supposed to be.  There was no gunfire, no talking, nothing.  Just silence.  Preston scanned the area, heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest.  After everything Charlie had been through, all she’d survived, she couldn’t be dead now, not while doing a favor for him, not with all that unfinished business between them. She couldn’t.

Several moments passed, and there were still no signs of life in the area.  He decided to head inside the church, figure out how to get up to the roof for a better view.  Just as he moved toward the door, a loud clank of metal sounded behind him and he spun on his heels, weapon readied.  

It was the traitor himself that he turned to face, Clint, in his hulking suit of stolen power armor, a militia hat perched disrespectfully atop his buzz cut head.  He still wore sunglasses that were so reflective that Preston could see his own furious face in the lenses. Clint let out an arrogant chuckle, and stomped up closer.

“Well, well, well,” he mocked, “What do we have here? Paul Revere himself?”

“Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen.”  He didn’t know why he felt the need to correct a man he intended to kill, but the words slipped out.

“I know who you are.  Read all about you in Ol’ Ezra’s holotapes.” Clint laughed again. “And the Minutemen don’t exist anymore.  I got rid of the last of ‘em, myself.

“You missed one,” Preston remarked, dryly.

“What? You? Ha!.” Clint shook his head. “And that merry band of farmers you marched in through the front gate with?  Kind of a rookie move, there, son.”

“ Don’t call me son,” Preston spat, venom filling his mouth.  

Before he could react, Clint’s armored fist slammed into his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him flying back against the rusty skeleton of an old car.  Preston’s head crashed against the metal, and pain pulsed out from the point of impact throughout his whole head.  His vision spun around him, creating a double of the man who towered over him.  He felt sick to his stomach, and couldn’t quite figure out how to get back to his feet or where his weapon went.  Darkness crept in at the corners of his vision.

“I hate mouthy punks,” Clint growled.

Preston attempted to speak, but couldn’t find words in the chaos of his head.  He mumbled something even he couldn’t interpret.

“Oh man,” Clint exclaimed, smirk twisting on his face, “You’re really making this easy, Garvey.  Can’t say you live up to Ezra’s praise. What in the goddamned wasteland made you think you could rebuild the Minutemen?  You can’t even take a punch.  Pathetic.”

As Clint spoke, Preston noticed a blur of movement behind the other man.  He knew his eyes must have been playing tricks on him because it looked as if the air vibrated like it sometimes did in highly irradiated areas.  Quincy wasn’t one of those places.  The only other thing it could be was a--

Just as he thought the word stealth boy , the wobble in the air dissipated, and Charlie stood no more than ten feet behind Clint.  She slowly raised a finger to her lips in a shushing motion, and readied her weapon to aim.  Preston couldn’t keep the relief washing over his face, mouth twitching at the corners. She was alive, and not only that, she’d come to save him once again. Mama Murphy really did hit the nail on the head all those months ago.

“Why are you smiling,” Clint asked abruptly, lifting his laser rifle, locking it straight in the direction of Preston’s chest.  “What’s so fucking funny, huh?”

“Nothing, man,” Preston managed, words slurring, “Nothing at all.”

At that moment, Charlie unleashed a terrifying barrage of shots into Clint’s armor, damaging the legs so severely that they locked in place, and Clint had to jump out.  “What the--” he began, and turned around, to face his attacker.  “You little bitch .”

He attempted to raise his weapon and aim at her, but before he could get there, she’d pulled her trigger.  Preston couldn’t make out where she’d shot Clint, but the man dropped his gun and fell to his knees, before falling to his face.  Charlie holstered her pistols, and stared down at the man she’d just killed, expression as flat as he’d ever seen it.

“I’m not a bitch,” she muttered, shaking her head before setting her gaze on Preston, worry knitting her brows as soon as their eyes met.  She rushed over to where he sat, up against the car he’d been thrown into, and knelt down, cupping his face with a gloved hand on either side and turning his head to the left and then the right, clearly examining him for injury.  She flipped a switch on her PipBoy, flashing a bright beam of light into each of his eyes.  He squinted and shook his head, causing her to giggle, but he could hear the tears and sniffling between laughs.  

“You’re okay,” she assured him, pressing an unexpected kiss to his forehead, “Looks like you might have a concussion, but you’re safe.  I’m here.”

“You’re really scary sometimes, you know that,” he stated, words still stumbling out of his mouth clumsily.  

She laughed nervously and glanced away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.  “I’m sorry, I just… I’d just watched Clint knock you into this car, and he was about to kill you and I just--.”

“No,”  he corrected her, grin spreading across his face, “It’s kinda hot.”

She snorted and a tear rolled down her cheek, dripping off her chin.  “Jesus, you hit your head harder than I thought.”

“It’s still the truth,” he admitted weakly, vision closing in entirely.  The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness entirely, was her voice calling his name.  

“Preston?”

[vaguely-gestures-to-the-void]

Hindsight: My thoughts on Loki (2021)

As always, thanks for being here my friends. There’s definitely more nuanced discussion of this show, but I’m here for the vibes. Anyways, here’s my thoughts on Episode 3 of Loki. Bear in mind I hadn’t watched episode 4 before I wrote the review for 3. No hate on anyone/thing, it’s all my opinion.

Episode 3: LAMENTIS

Pre-title scene

I rioted when I heard Hayley’s voice. It’s a win for all of us.

C-20! Sylvie!

C-20’s lil dance was adorable. I love her.

I want Sylvie’s tie dye.

Is that Ralph Bohner?

The same place, but at night. Coincidence? I think not.

Sylvie’s powers have limits. She can’t search someone’s mind and take information, she needs them to willingly tell her though she can use her powers to do that.

TVA

Sylvie’s experienced. Always tie your hair into a bun before a fight.

Her music is nothing like what we’ve heard previously. It’s the Sylvie show folks.

The mural on the left side of the hall is the one from the credits scene.

The plaque above the elevators says ‘FOR ALL TIME ALWAYS’.

Even in the mural on the right side, the Time Keepers aren’t equal, the middle one takes up the most space.

Ravonna!

I love how their movements are similar. The head-snap-hair-flip combo is nearly identical, reflecting how they are the same person to some extent.

2077 Lamentis - 1

“Get off my leg!” SiblingTM energy.

“Goodbye, variant.” She sure has the Loki drama.

I finally remembered it’s called a TemPad. Rip.

“Don’t ever call me that.”

“Tech savvy?”

That’s so Ragnarok.

I love the music as we pan up to the planet. It’s the familiar, anxiety-inducing ticking for me lads.

“You idiot! This is Lamentis - 1.”

“I don’t know what that means!”

My siblings when I can’t restart the router (every country has an AT&T).

I like that it’s a moon that’s inhabited. It’s nearly always the planet, still not great for the people on it.

That slide to get under the dump truck was so smooth.

“So we’re a team now?” Jesus Loki needs friends. Probably a good therapist too.

“Didn’t need your help!”

“You’re so weird!”

I like the way Tom runs. Don’t know why. Just do.

Sidenote, my favourite running form is Chris Evans’.

Sylvie’s magic flickered so I genuinely think the enchantment didn’t work.

“Well then I’ll cut it out.” I like the way she says that. I am questioning so many things rn.

“Just because I have to work with you doesn’t mean I wanna hear your voice.” It’s ironic since they spend so much time talking about themselves.

“Alright, well, slow down… Variant.” They really play off each other’s egos to find weaknesses.

“You don’t know what you want.” Sylvie’s more straightforward in everything she does. She efficiently points out Loki’s flaws but when it comes to a goal, she’s meticulous.

“...just walk away.” Loki stops walking, but Sylvie does walk away. There is distance between them (for now).

I’ve had experience with mining towns like this one and whilst they weren’t so out-of-this-world (ya know) there is a tendency for rural and isolated communities to struggle with old/not maintained infrastructure. This is not everywhere, but it’s not uncommon from what I know. Even though these towns are a source of wealth, there isn’t distribution of the money and it’s a grim reality that’s being shown. I appreciate it.

The shot of them walking past a slab of that planet towards the hut is incredible. Wow.

The person in there is just waiting for their death. I’m going to be addressing a lot of the harsh realities in this episode folks so it won’t be so cheerful.

I understand that people weren’t so happy with this being a filler episode, but I think they got it right. It’s strange that a literal planet-moon collision doesn’t bring the tension that the hurricane did in the last ep, but by having an atmosphere that wasn't so omnius, they conveyed (to me at least) that hope was already lost. In the Roxxcart Disaster, the people believed that it wasn’t going to be the end. There’s desperation on Lamentis - 1 but as Sylvie said, the collapse of society occurs. That’s a large group of people realising that class divides will cause slaughter. It’s greed portrayed in two different ways, one being the integration of excessive capitalism into society, the other being social structure based on oppression. Not everyone’s reading into Loki like this but it’s a change from how Marvel usually approaches conflict.

We learnt about the characters and whilst I’m not a fan of when a plot line is moot (my bet is that Loki and Sylvie will be rescued next ep, making all the attempts to get off Lamentis - 1 pointless), it’s necessary for the characters to develop. The way Loki and Sylvie end up on Lamentis - 1 makes sense and the plot doesn’t feel forced.

“It’s remarkable that you made it as far as you did.”

Devils is recurring in this episode. Maybe this has implications on future episodes?

“Which one was that, diplomacy?” Why are their interactions so funny?

I don’t think I need to comment on the significance of the train station scene.

I would like to acknowledge that though this is good writing that’s relevant in the time it was released, we shouldn’t forget it’s coming from large corporations who aren’t perfect.

How do they just walk past the line?

The people who snitched were right in front of them.

Did the cat get Loki’s silvertongue? That was the most graceless lying I’ve ever seen.

Sylvie not sitting with her back to a door makes sense, but why won’t Loki go backwards on a train? They both have little quirks.

“That’s not a plan. That’s just doing a thing.” Loki went to the Thor school of planning, it’s Get Help all over again.

Loki’s exaggerated nods at the other guards lol.

Sylvie growls whenever she’s mad, it’s hilarious.

The close ups of their faces when the conversation gets personal and isn’t just trading jabs is great for conveying the authenticity of their answers.

Loki not pressing Sylvie when she clearly didn’t want to talk about what happened to her mother is something I appreciated.

Here’s to Tom for having to do magic for more than 10 years now. He’s so serious, I can only imagine how funny it is without the effects.

“Well she did.” Yeesh, has Loki gotten time to grieve?

Sylvie is genuinely impressive.

“Pity the old woman chose to die.”

“She was in love.”

I don’t quite understand what they were talking about then, I guess we’ll find out later?

Loki, why are you so unnecessarily dramatic?

I laughed. Who am I kidding, they’re dorks and I love them.

Loki is trying to find out anything, anyone who could be used against Sylvie.

Here’s to the postman, they’re probably dead but we appreciate Sylvie’s happiness anyways.

“A bit of both. I suspect the same as you.” AND THAT’S HOW YOU WRITE IN REPRESENTATION FOLKS!

Let’s just take our scraps and be happy, eh? It made my week.

They both need real relationships of any kind, guys.

“Love is… uh, something I might have to have another drink to think about.” Me whenever anyone asks me about my love life.

“You do realise… ...a civilisation’s only hope?” I think this was Sylvie’s way of making sure Loki’s (albeit grey) morals and drinking habits don’t interrupt her plan.

The train sure gives me Snowpiercer vibes.

Do I have to talk about Drunk Loki?

Tom’s singing voice is lovely.

Sylvie’s eyes shift nervously to the door and then back to Loki. She’s initially tense but she relaxes slightly though she knows she’s gonna have to clean up the mess.

“Nobody cares. It’s the end of the world.” Again, Loki’s headspace is one where existence is futile.

The green walls contrast the purple lighting nicely.

You can see plants (?) from the outside if you look out the windows. Talk about attention to detail.

Bruh what is the dagger about? Drunk Loki’s a comedic genius.

The descending notes in the background of Loki’s fireworks.

Sylvie’s smile when she goes to attack is animalistic. I’d like to see her character explored more in terms of how she views violence.

YEET.

“You’re right. I’m a god.” Loki’s defense mechanism is to state that his motives are above the understanding of others.

“You’re a clown.” Sylvie tells it as it is.

Loki and Sylvie’s reactions to the TVA contrast the most here. Sylvie is potentially motivated by vengeance or a need for revenge whilst Loki has resigned to numbing the pain (for now at least) as he comes to terms with his reality. The question of what drives you is so important for these characters, I’m excited to see whether they’ll find a common ground and wreak havoc on the sacred timeline.

Loki and Sylvie both struggle with communicating in a healthy way. Sylvie calls him out on his directionlessness and Loki tells her what may be the harsh reality of her plan. Neither of them are willing to accept it, but there’s potential for a strong bond if they do.

Sylvie’s scream lmao.

I love the colour of Loki’s pants.

Problem? Solution! Do thing! Is Sylvie’s method of thinking when all is lost.

Gosh I love the shots in this episode.

“That’s a pretty good life.” Sylvie’s definitely not lived as a royal, or not from what she remembers.

“I just need to know if I can trust you.” Sylvie giving up how she enchants people is an olive branch because as useful as the things that Loki told her may have been for manipulation, they both know the importance of her upper hand. But she only relents once Loki doesn’t have the TemPad. Later, when she asks whether she can trust Loki, it’s more of a reassurance because he’s already been vulnerable around her.

The actor’s body language and facial expressions are incredible. Loki’s eyebrow’s furrow slightly when Sylvie mentions C-20’s mind but Tom takes a second for the information to be processed rather than instantly reacting to Sophia’s next line. She does the same when Loki talks about the TVA workers being created. What skilled people they are.

The city is a wonderful piece of set design.

“We do, and you can.” They step into the light, neither of them have tunnel vision and are able to see a bigger picture.

“They’re gonna let these people die.” This show explores a side of Loki we haven’t seen before, his morality and compassion. He has grey areas that could be explored in the next season. It also points back to how Sylvie and Loki differ in their view of others. I think this is partially because of their childhoods. Loki was raised as a prince and cared about his people, but Sylvie doesn’t share that perspective (“...they usually survive”), maybe because of her past. Hopefully in the upcoming episodes we’ll get a bit more of her backstory.

That sequence is beyond words. The constantly rotating and revolving camera really hammers home that it’s a disorienting fight for their lives at the end of the world. I’m speechless, just watch it.

The music in that blue-purple-pink club was banging tho.

Loki and Sylvie’s posture, facial expression and general body movement is similar. The variant point is hammered home here.

It’s interesting how Loki is in shock/denial of the Ark being destroyed whereas Sylvie immediately leaves.

The end music of this episode is beautiful. I love how it all builds to leave us on the soft tones of Dark Moon.

No one’s interested, but my mum and I bonded over the Jim Reeves version of this song and the Bonnie Guitar one.

Ep 3 review

Short episode with not much going on other than character development. However, if the first two were anything to go by, this episode will have greater implications on the plot. The pacing of this show is a bit strange, but we may see this change in the next season.

I mentioned previously that it would be a shame if the entire plot of this episode was made irrelevant by how they get off Lamentis - 1 next ep. This show has been really good at keeping us on our toes with the writing so they probably won’t take turns that have been speculated.

Happy mid-season guys! The following two episodes were apparently Tom’s favourites so we can expect some mayhem up ahead. See you next time!

Here's the link to my Ep 2 review

[infantbluee]

title: count to eight

summary: in another timeline, maka is killed on the moon and the world descends into madness. five years later, a reclusive soul stumbles across a girl who claims to be his dead best friend. 

pairing: soul/maka

rating: explicit

warnings: angst, smut, canon-typical violence, sort of love triangle (though not really because it’s just between maka and two souls) 

links: ao3 // ffn

—

oh my gosh, this is my second resbang fic ever and i still can’t believe i got so lucky! this year i was paired with the amazing, brilliant, hilarious, and adorable @ochako999 and @maevenneverland who had a full-time job making me laugh-cry over their shenanigans while also making GORGEOUS art for my fic. (links can be found here and here respectively.) please excuse me while i sob over their talent for the next 84 years because they are perfect.  

even more hugs to my ridiculous discord family for keeping me insane, as well as all the other wonderful people i’ve met on tumblr, twitter, and even just by exchanging reviews on fanfics! there’s a reason i’ve been so glad i joined this fandom and it’s because of every single one of you that make it so warm <3

please enjoy the short excerpt below! 

—

It’s surprisingly cold this year.

Soul blows into his hands, rubbing his palms together to retain warmth. Normally he can escape Kid’s annual Christmas party and hide out in the gardens without any sort of penalty, but apparently Mother Nature decided she was bored this holiday season and wanted to take a turn punishing the antisocial hermit.

That, or she’s calling him a coward.

It’s probably that last one.

“Hiding already?” a familiar voice calls. “This must be a record.”

Holding back a grimace, Soul maintains a blank expression as he turns his head to see his girlfriend approach him along the cobblestone path.

She’s too pretty to be real in this setting, surrounded by glazed tree branches and the twinkling lights strung all over to make up for the blackened moon. Wearing a dress like that with her hair so long and loose, she might as well have “serenade me, you coward” plastered all over her forehead.

“Idiot, you’re going to get frostbite,” he scolds instead, already scowling as he shrugs off his suit jacket to drape over her shoulders. “What are you thinking, coming out here without a coat on?”

Maka smiles sweetly. “I was thinking my weapon always takes care of me.”

Stupid. He thinks the word twice, both times so pathetically filled with affection. “Did Kid send you to hunt me down?” he asks. “I swear I was gonna go back inside. Continue wooing those foreign emissaries or whatever the hell he expects me to do. I just needed a break.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s Christmas; he doesn’t expect you to spend the whole time working.” Her eyes twinkle. “Besides, I already handled it. The dignitaries love me.”

He snorts. “Of course they do.”

“Hey, one of us has to be doing our jobs right,” she teases.

“Suck-up.”

“I prefer the term eager to please.”

Soul is incredulous. “How the hell did you manage to find the one phrase that’s dirtier than suck-up?”

Her smile is angelic. “It’s a talent.”

He responds with a growl as he nuzzles his face against her skin, his hands sliding under the jacket he covered her with to trace the artfully exposed curves underneath.

“Soul, stop!” she giggles. “We can’t do it out here. It’s cold.”

“So keep me warm then,” he grumbles. “And anyway, is that really the first thing you worry about when I’m trying to cop a feel? Not ‘oh, someone might catch us’ or ‘what if your dick shrunk too much in this weather for me to feel it?’”

This time when she laughs, he hides his own smile against her skin. She doesn’t stop him, letting her head fall back with a sigh as he presses kisses along the base of her neck. Even when it’s this cold, she’s so soft. It’s really unfair. He’s seen her moisturizing routine. She hasn’t done anything to deserve this level of silky perfection.

“Soul,” she gasps when he nips particularly hard at her throat. Her hands grip at his shirt, desperate, and he decides that maybe getting a little dirty on a garden bench wouldn’t be the worst thing after all.

But then the lights flicker.

That in itself wouldn’t have been enough to tear his mouth away from her skin, except that it’s accompanied by a deep tremble beneath the earth which causes Soul to stumble into his meister. She catches him, always so impressively steady on her size-five-hidden-by-giant-boots feet, and the speed at which she goes from horny girlfriend to calculating meister is seriously impressive.

And hot. Really hot.

Soul’s never been as adept at switching off his hunger as she is.

“A pre-kishin attack?” she asks with a frown as they rush back towards the party. It’s been a long time since they’ve encountered a pre-k without actively hunting one, and even longer since one has existed within the walls of their city.

“Maybe a demon,” Soul guesses. They’re also rare these days, but they still exist. Though the Witch Treaty has significantly put a damper on their confidence.

As they approach the mansion, they can already hear a commotion brewing. Plenty of shouts, glass shattering. A horrifying, almost unearthly slithering sound as fluid shadows spill out of the windows like overflowing bath water. They pick up their pace.

When they finally burst into the room, they’re horrified by the sight in front of them.

“Kid!” Maka cries.

The chandelier is history, now scattered around the dancefloor in a million tiny little pieces. The decorations are torn; the tables cracked and thrown about. The civilian guests have all been ushered to the sides of the room as several witches hold up a barrier to keep them safe, but the real terror is the enormous entity in the middle of the room that seems to have no problem fending off the advances of half a dozen meisters.

It’s like nothing Soul’s ever seen before, even during the worst of the war. A giant, oozing ball of shadowy flesh with these sharp, jerking limbs that regenerate and extend from its body whenever someone tries to attack it.

Accompanying it is this smell, putrid and awful—but even worse are the low, chittering moans coming from its repulsive form, over and over and over again, filling the room like a sickening hum.

“Maakaa. Maaaaaaaakaaaa.”

Soul feels his blood run cold.

Kid, who is currently trying to hold back several of its limbs from further attacking the civilian barrier, jerks his head up at her call for him, his face flashing with horror. It’s obvious how long the creature must’ve been moaning her name by the intensity of the reaper’s panic.

“Maka, get back!” he screams.

In the same moment, she gasps as Soul tackles her to the side just in time to avoid getting pierced by a flurry of sword-like limbs. He then rolls and grabs her hand, jerking her to her feet as he starts off in a sprint, squeezing to get her attention. “Maka!”

“R-right!”

He shifts into weapon form just in time for her to swing him in defense. She manages to block two of them, slicing off three more, before being forced to jump back as another wave rushes at her. The monster seems to have forgotten about the others completely now that it has her in its sight, its several dozen eyes turning to train directly on her.

“I don’t understand,” she says as she blocks more of its attacks. “Why does it keep coming for me?”

“Doesn’t matter,” growls Soul. “I’ll die before I let it take you. The only priority now is to kill it.”

“But how?”

“To your left!”

She twists to the side, barely dodging the next stream of violent hands as they scrape off Soul’s blade. But instead of relief, he can feel her horror, because those same regenerative limbs that had just tried to rip into her heart somehow jerk to the side with enough force to shatter one of the barriers protecting the guests.

He hears Angela among the screams.

“Maka, no!” he cries out.

Too late. She flips over one of the creature’s arms to run against it, slicing at the others with a ferocity that would impress him in any other circumstance. At the end of her sprint, Maka dives, pushing Angela out of the way from an attack and twisting in a way that cushions the young girl’s fall.

Through their bond, Soul can feel the pain shoot up Maka’s spine and he cries out for her, demanding to know if she’s hurt.

She forces a smile as she sits up. “I’m fine,” she lies terribly. She glances down at the young witch and looks relieved that she’s unharmed.

Before she can say anything else, she’s yanked away so quickly that Soul is literally whipped from her grip and clatters to the floor. He shifts back to human form in an instant, scrambling for her with a cry, but it’s too late.

The monster has Maka dangling by her ankle over its main form, the rest of its extensions retreating as well. Black Star and Kid both try to charge at it only to be swatted away like flies and held back with the pressure of mutated shadow limbs.

Then it does the worst thing possible.

It drops her.

“NO!” Soul screams.

It’s like a detonator is pressed. The moment Maka’s body is absorbed into its inky flesh, the creature begins to twitch a jerk violently, pulsing and moving so rapidly that even the meisters have no choice but to back up.

With a horrifying screech, it’s sucked into the earth through an invisible exit, like some sort of oversized blob of goo being sucked through a vacuum or forced down a drain. The whole fleshy monstrosity continues to be pulled through that tiny unseen gateway until it has completely disappeared from the ballroom. Gone.

And Maka along with it.

[ read more on ao3 or ffn! ]

[crimeronan]

daydreamed up a trc ot6 zombie apocalypse au full of drama

the catalysts for this au: “i want ronan injured and dying without a hospital nearby, and i want adam allied with kavinsky and burning up about it inside because he hates it and would never have let this happen if there’d been another choice”

it starts with gansey driving a bmw that’s clearly on its last legs (and who the hell drives anymore anyway) into a place that’s at least Rumored to have a safe human population and pounding on closed doors begging for help — “my best friend’s hurt he needs help” and as the oppressive silence deepens:

“hes not BIT I SWEAR SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE”

ronan lynch is in the passenger seat of his bmw chalk white and clearly dying because the only scenario in which gansey COULD drive into an unknown town and beg for help is one where ronan is too fucked up to stop him

 (and if you think ronan hasn’t somehow managed to take a bullet or two for gansey during this time youd be so incorrect. how does ronan manage to be around so much gunfire the answer is talent)

in some ways adam parrish has gotten everything he could have wanted from life in a way he does Not desire because being a working class hands-on mechanic with an intimate knowledge of cars in the post-apocalypse means sudden social status and influence and import

but he hasn’t Really gotten everything he wanted because hes allied with some people he’d have preferred not to and done some things for survival that keep him awake at night and he doesn’t have Enough power here to stop certain bad people from doing bad things without getting himself killed

gansey’s too exhausted and fried to find the charming personality that’ll move mountains and hes retired to the bmw (which is out of gas) with his head in his hands 

and when ronans lucid — which isnt often — he keeps trying to give gansey advice on throwing punches and knocking people out and hotwiring cars and stealing supplies in this urgent way that clearly means he thinks he's not gonna be around to do these things for gansey anymore and this is NOT helping gansey's state of mind

dusk falls and then night falls and gansey's pretty sure he's about to watch ronan die and not be able to do anything about it 

and then there's a tap on the window from a guy who looks like he was born from the ashes of the apocalypse and finds the end of the world incredibly irritating because can't someone give existence some other flavors

"i'll give you a tow"

gansey's not about to distrust a miracle so that's how he meets adam parrish

anyway before adam brings the tow truck he's like "i need to look at him" re: ronan because he can see that the guy in the passenger seat is Fucked Up and while it could be an infected wound — anyone with a survival instinct would not sit in a car with a bitten person for hours on end -- it sure wouldn't be the first time adam's seen someone get themselves chomped because they're too fuckdeep in denial to admit their loved one is a lost cause

gansey's like "he's not bit" and adam's like "i hear you but i'm not bringing you anywhere til i know for sure" 

and gansey has this moment of realization that this guy is currently ready to kill ronan and will not hesitate to do it and probably has a backup plan for handling gansey too if it comes to that

the difference between adam and gansey as people is much more quickly illustrated in this scenario than in canon

gansey has no plan for what he's gonna do if adam turns out to be one of those "can't risk it, gotta kill everyone with a stubbed toe" types but fortunately for everyone adam doesn't do wanton mass murder for the sake of murder he's just honed himself razor-thin into something extremely callous and practical

adam opens the passenger door and peels away what's left of ronan's tank top and the horribly old horribly unsanitary worn through bandages and he concludes pretty quick that this isn't a case of someone turning zombie but from the look on his face it's pretty fckn clear he doesn't consider the current situation much more hopeful than a turning zombie case

adam's seen the way gansey's called for help and has waited until dark to be sneaky helpful because reasons which means he already knows ronan means a lot to gansey and he already has a preemptive headache about it but he's like

"okay. don't be offended. but. scale of one to ten. how... attached are you to him"

"Excuse Me"

the ensuing whisper-hissed argument basically boils down to gansey going "i don't know how to explain to you that you should care about other people" 

and adam going "i don't know how to explain to you that wasting limited medical supplies on people who are gonna die anyway is bad"

 and gansey going "okay well i'm not going anywhere without him and i die if he dies so you can leave actually" 

and adam being like [most longsuffering person in the universe] "i'll take you guys back to my place"

adam tows them to an old auto body shop that seems to still be serving its pre-apocalypse purpose because when you're a car mechanic who's survived the apocalypse it makes sense to settle down in a structure that's at least optimized for you to work efficiently

as soon as the bmw is safely inside the garage and the door is closed there's a tiny girl there opening the passenger door to look at ronan 

(gansey and ronan have remained in the car during the tow instead of being in the tow truck because adam didn't want to move ronan and gansey was not going to leave him)

 and she kind of sucks her teeth like she's appraising an unfortunate car wreck like "that's gotta hurt"

gansey's coiled up with adrenaline and ready to have the exact same fight he just had with adam except then she's like "okay let me grab my mom and persephone and whatever medications i can scrounge up hm. this does look really bad"

adam's very tired and in a mood and as he's getting out of the truck he's like "yeah well i tried" and gansey's about to be extremely uncharitable except the girl zeroes the fuck in on this like "you tried what, adam"

adam's like oh my god.  am i really gonna have to get it from all sides tonight and she's like "well i know you didn't try fixing him because it's a little more than a bandaid situation" 

and adam's like wow i sure have other things to be doing with my time and she's like "you didn't"

 and he's like "well look, the guy's ALIVE and HERE isn't he, so if you're gonna accuse me of something let's at least focus on that"

 and she's like "ADAM."

gansey immediately likes her

gansey’s also grappling with powerful relief because he and ronan haven’t seen another person in weeks and oh there are people here who can HELP

adam and blue continue fighting literally the entire time they're going to get maura and persephone and when they come back and when they're helping get a semiconscious ronan out of the car

they pretty clearly do this a lot because somehow even as they're each ripping into the other about their flaws they're also working together and with maura and persephone in terms of taking physical positions to move ronan and keep him stable and like.  they're not interrupting their argument with ronan-positioning commentary they're just managing to argue and instinctively move with each other anyway with no pause

gansey feels one grudging half smidgen iota of gratefulness (which would be full-blown gratefulness if he wasn't determined to have a grudge) at one point which is 

when they're moving ronan onto a makeshift stretcher or w/e and there's really no painless way to do it no matter how gentle and careful they are and ronan YELLS and tries to sit up like what the FUCK is happening

 and gansey's been keeping out of the way but he's like oh okay i am needed now and it's maybe three seconds before he's at ronan's side

 but in that span of time adam's managed to push ronan back down and is very quietly calmly explaining the situation to him without any hint of his earlier irritation or exasperation

and gansey's like so relieved that this guy is apparently practiced enough with injured people to have developed a calm bedside manner but he's also like fuck that i'm mad at you and you're a dick

the interior of the shop has been converted into an apartment space that didn't technically have two floors at first but sort of does now thanks to the miracle of loft construction and having too much time on ur hands

maura and persephone have the stretcher w/ adam spotting and blue drags gansey inside so they'll be out of the way

there's a blonde kid wearing a t-shirt and boxers with naruto bedhead who has the wide-eyed alertness of someone who woke up five minutes ago but now must be part of the adventure 

and blue's like "this is noah, he FAINTS AT THE SIGHT OF BLOOD" 

and noah's like "oh yeah i do don't i" and scampers up to the loft and disappears before the stretcher can enter

up in the loft a different voice says "THAT IS MY RIB" and then an entirely new guy (how many are they keeping up there) descends also in boxers and a t-shirt like "will someone please inform the resident golden retriever that i am a fragile waif who must not be disturbed" 

he reaches the landing just in time to see the stretcher being carried in.  

gansey's not really focused on him because he's watching ronan. anyway instead of reacting like a normal human being to the sudden appearance of drama the guy leans against blue's shoulder and in the most put-upon tone imaginable is like "blue you must start informing me when half-naked attractive wounded men are being carried through the kitchen so i can do my hair"

blue's like "this is henry. he's returning to the void now. henry get out"

the thing is after this expression of apparently complete disinterest in the ronan situation henry touches blue's elbow and the two of them exchange a quick look that gansey catches despite his focus on ronan 

because gansey is exquisitely versed in the language of subtle glances and very slightly angled eyebrows or mouths

ronan's getting successfully laid out on the couch and persephone's about to do what she can (in my head she's a medical doctor in this au bc can u imagine) and the situation is about as handled as it can be for now and there's nothing gansey can do except get in the way

 and he does have the presence of mind to realize he doesn't know much about these people yet and should be cautious and learn what he can

so when henry and blue casually walk out the back door into the much cooler evening gansey..... sort of follows them

there's not a lot of room to do hardcore sneaking so he can't get close enough to hear all of the conversation but he sure can see that henry looks more worried than the flippant cool boy he was just introduced to 

and he thinks he might hear henry mention someone named "kay"??

and then he most fucking definitely hears blue's snapped reply of "don't even start, adam's bad enough, i'm NOT putting up with it from you" and then gansey has to very quickly duck back inside because the pair of them are turning back toward the house

that’s about all i’ve got for this scene but here’s additional important content

eventually gansey asks blue why so many people drop in and out of the auto shop all the time because there's clearly not room for literally all of them to be sleeping there permanently and no one except adam seems all that interested in mechanics

 and what he's really asking but trying to be polite about is "you clearly don't agree with this asshole's principles so how are so many seemingly normal people giving him the time of day"

 (gansey is used to being on the receiving end of this conversation wrt ronan, he's never been the one asking before, it's weird, he's puzzled) 

and he gets SUCH fucking whiplash when the answer turns out to be "because adam's saved every single one of our lives"

blue's like "also he's my best friend and i love him i'm not enslaved via blood debt or something but y'know. the loyalty is hard to shake"

gansey has a very unpleasant realization of "adam protects these people like ronan protects me" and wants to unrealize it because that makes it a lot harder to hold a grudge suddenly

adam has no way of gauging how far is too far or how callous is too callous except that blue's there to be like "you sound like a supervillain and should take a nap" at any given moment

ronan has to take a while recovering and the fact that he sleeps a lot and slips in and out of consciousness means plenty of people have partial or full conversations in his earshot assuming he's not listening

 so he's gleaning a lot about these people and how they function and what's up with kavinsky’s stranglehold on the town and adam’s proximity to him

 which means the first time he's clear-headed enough to have a lucid conversation with adam the first words out of his mouth are "so who's holding your leash"

the second words out of his mouth are “are they gonna hurt gansey”

ronan: are they gonna hurt gansey adam: he wont do anything to anyone staying here first of all i’d stop being useful second of all i don’t let him in here ronan: [swinging his legs off the couch] cool cool adam: WHAT are you doing ronan: you’re out of your fucking mind if you think i’m gonna keep gansey around some bullshit chaos worshipping hell cult i’m taking my fucking car and finding a microsociety that isn’t taking pointers from mad fucking max adam: you’re in no shape to drive and i haven’t even fixed your car yet ronan: [standing, doing his best to Loom, clearly squaring up for a fistfight because that’s how he settles everything] oh yeah?? who’s gonna stop me gansey, from the doorway: me. you’re bleeding through your bandages, lynch

[nickdempsey]

Jason Stross vs The Multiverse

So some quick context, fellow Tumblr user @cratmang created an SU character, Conga Tourmaline, an interdimensional traveler that travels through and studies the Alternate Universes of Steven Universe.

They currently have two posts on her on their blog, which goes into better detail on her character.

So I reached out to them and asked if it would be ok to write a quick thing where my character Jason Stross meets her.

They said yes, and the result is an SU OC that isnt an SU OC being tied into an alternate version of @ask-whitepearl-and-steven, an alternate version of @lab-raised-steven, a hint of @revolver-d‘s Black Pearl, an even smaller hint of Symbiotic Titan, and topped off with Doom.

And some Trailer Park Boys for good measure.

Without further ado, I hope you read this and enjoy. lol

_ _ _ _ _

It was clear that Jason was in some sort of space station. Where said station was on the other hand, was the real mystery.

Any time he would have a chance to see through the windows available, all he would see is a thick fog of grey and orange. While he wasn’t sure where he was, one thing was clear.

He surely wasn’t on Earth.

Whoever it was that did abduct him, was of a background he was unfamiliar with, as the technological architecture in no way resembles that of anything he had ever seen. It was still Alien.

With all of that said, however, he was unsure if the unknown entity, or entities, were hostile.

He was stripped of his armor and equipment, leaving him in only his Second Skin suit. If whoever was keeping him here wanted to kill him, chances were he would have already been dead before awaking.

As he walked through the space station, one thing he saw more of were speakers, practically outlining the hallways and rooms of the large structure. Some such speakers, in the distance, seemed to be functioning.

Jason began to travel down the massive hall, toward the other far off end to investigate the source of the noise. As he stepped closer to the source of the sound, which all conveyed in a large lit room in what seemed to be the center of the station, it seemed as if the sound itself was music.

Jason stood confused as he began to recognize the sound. It seemed like familiar music, which more or less seemed to confuse him even more. The guitar strums from the music made it sound like the Earth genre of music known as “Country”.

As Jason approached the main room, he reached down to his thigh, almost out of muscle memory, to retrieve his blaster, only to be reminded that all he had was the Second Skin suit on him.

He had to be careful, as he was not 100% positive that his “host” was friendly. He continued to silently step into the room.

What he saw was a single figure, dancing along with the music. Their back was turned to Jason, so they did not notice him.

The figure in question, was nearly covered in green. Their four arms moving carelessly in the air along with the beat of the music. Jason wasn’t sure if what was at the top of her head was either a hat or hair, but the green object made sure that they stood a good two feet above him.  At first glance, Jason would have guessed that the figure floated, but after further examination, it appeared to be standing on metallic legs.

As Jason stepped forward to the figure, almost on cue as he came close to six feet, the figure turned around, still following the beat of the music. It was then Jason saw the few view of them, their long pointy nose, their goggles shielding their three glowing green eyes, and the headphones over their ears.

It was odd, other features of his captor made it seemed as if they were a Gem. That said, as he got closer to them, their suit seemed to be of other origin than Homeworld. As he got a closer look at their legs, he saw that they were much smaller than expected. The legs seemed to have ended in rather small and sharp points.

The headphones they wore were probably more for show due to the already blasting music, which didn’t turn off, only lowered in volume significantly as the figure recognized the human in their presence.

“Oh excellent!” The figure said as she clapped her four hands together. “You’re awake.” She giggled as she walked past him quickly. “I bet you hear that one a lot.”

Her voice was oddly cheery, seeming to be more focused on the excitement of the music. The most noteworthy factor of her voice was that it seemed as if it were of three different people speaking in unison.

Some of her arms were still flailing the in air to the music as she reached into a nearby drawer to dig through the container.

“No… no… not it.” She kept saying as she rummaged through. “Aha!” She said as she pulled put a round glass bottle of a reddish-brown clear liquid. She returned to Jason, who realized a bow was wrapped onto the neck of the bottle.

“Welcome, Jason Stross!” The Green figure said, as she handed Jason the bottle. “To my Studio!”

Jason took the offered glass bottle, still keeping his eye on the figure welcoming him. As he looked down at the label of the glass container, the description of the contents caught his eye. He looked back up. “Is this-?”

“Coaxian Brandy.” The Figure interrupted with a smile. “Pre-Genesis. Very rare.” She explained. She then extended one of her hands out to Jason. “We apologize, Jason. Please allow me to introduce ourselves, Conga Tourmaline, Interdimensional Traveler, Occupant to the Throne of Loki, unrivaled in magic and technology!” She said in pride, seeming as if it was a name Jason should have heard by now. She reached for Jason’s hand to shake it. “Most call me Conga.”

Before Jason could ask anything else, he heard the lyrics of the song blasting through the speakers.

“No one’s got your back, but whose got your belly?” The speakers yelled at the two.

“What the hell is that?” Jason said to Conga in a demanding tone, his confusion turned into agitation.

“Oh, sorry.” Conga said in a humorous manner as she reached for a control panel. The country music quickly turned off as the speakers switched to a more electronic song.

“Now what the hell is this?” Jason asked Conga, his agitation lowered, but still present.

“You don’t recognize it?” Conga asked. “Jason, it is your theme song after all!”

“What?” Jason asked. “I don’t have a theme song. I’m not some fictional character, where the hell am I?”

Conga raised her finger as if to explain the creators of the two of them, NickDempsey and Cratmang, discussed the possibility of her and Jason meeting. However, Jason was still human, and couldn’t possibly comprehend the possibility of the Fourth Wall’s existence. She decided to go for option B for her explanation of their interaction.

The time to decide on how to explain to him seemed to be more than too long for Jason, as he began to step closer to Conga, seeming to be more threatening.

“Listen.” He said in an authoritative tone, you’re going to tell me or- “

“Jason Stross, even without our Interdimensional Powers, I am still a fusion of three Gems. Three.” Conga said, almost in a bragging matter. “I believe that we would be considered a difficulty to harm, even by the great Reaper of Kul-Baris- “

“Don’t call me that.” Jason demanded; his aggression grew back up.

The phrase sent a chill down Conga’s back, or spine if Gems could have one. It was enough to understand why some lesser Gems in this dimension to grow fear upon the mere mention of her human guest.

“I don’t suppose ‘Blue Diamond’s Pet’ is a better title?” Conga asked, receiving the same glare from Jason. “That was a joke.” She was quick to say.

“Why am I here?” Jason asked. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“Kidnap?” Conga asked, as if to defend an accusation. “We saved you. You were almost killed by that Black Pearl!”

Jason remembered the encounter in Angel City. He was responding to a series of complaints of disappearances, only to find the violent Gem in question.

Jason had to admit, much to Conga’s defense, the Pearl did beat Jason into an inch left of his life.

“Fine.” Jason said to Conga as he placed the bottle of liquor on a nearby table. “So, you did, but that still doesn’t answer my question.”

“Well, as I’ve said…” Conga began her explanation. “During our interdimensional travels and studies, I’ve tended to notice you a few times when investigating a few AUs.”

Jason looked at Conga with a combination of confusion and curiosity. “AUs?”

“Alternate Universes.” Conga said as she moved past Jason toward a door on another side of the room. The door was closed until she approached it, causing it to open to reveal a darker lit room. The only source of light seemed to be from a series of screens inside the smaller room.

Conga looked back to Jason, as if remembering that he was still there after a split second of forgetting his presence. “Right this way, please.”

Her demeanor looked more or so like someone excited to show him a project.

Jason slowly began to approach the room, looking from behind Conga.

The source of the light, evidentially, was a series of large, floating screens flying around the small room.

“Alternate Realities, to be specific.” Conga began to explain in an amused and excited way, almost as if she had rehearsed her speech. “Universes vary. All are different. Be it a small difference, such as an object being a different color, or something huge, such as a historic event ending in the opposite way.”

A screen descended between Jason and Conga, who presented the screen to him.

The screen showed Jason in his Paladin armor, along with three other beings. Two of which were Gems Jason had not seen before. One was a Pearl, lacking any color and an eye. The other Gem, which seemed to be closer to Jason in the image, was a Blue Gem, a few inches under Jason’s height. The Gem in her chest was suspiciously a familiar shape. An odd shape to be in a Gem that small.

The third, was a small child, which seemed to have a Gem of his own pointing out of his forehead. The sight was odd, he knew he never saw the kid before, but he seemed familiar at the same time.

“I first found out about you in an alternate universe of White Diamond Steven…” Conga said to Jason.

“Huh?” Jason asked upon hearing the name Steven. “You mean the kid in Beach City? With the Crystal Gems?”

“Exactly!” Conga excitingly said. She then pulled another screen showing only Jason in a cell.

A thick wall of glass separated his cell with another, holding what seemed to be the same kid from Beach City they were just talking about.

Unfortunately, the two seemed miserable in their location, almost seeming trapped.

“This one is an alternate version of the Lab Raised AU.” Conga said as she pushed the screen away from the two, directing Jason toward the rest of the screens. “You seemed to be in so many alternate versions of the universes I was looking into, we did some digging and saw alternate versions of your own universe.”

“Alternate versions?” Jason asked Conga, looking over to another passing window which revealed him sitting in a booth, sharing a table with a man wearing red goggles and a large, black hat covering his long, silver hair. The other man seemed calm, while Jason had an expression of agitated annoyance on his face.

“Exactly!” Conga said excitingly. “Technically speaking, the universe you are from is an alternate version of your original universe.”

She was only met with the facial expression of more confusion when she looked at Jason Stross. “Right…” Conga said as she continued on her spiel.

The words that came from Conga’s mouth seemed to have went from one of Jason’s ears through the other, as he just continued to look at the other “windows”. Some seemed to be recreations of previous events he had been in, minus a small detail or two.

Then the few that really caught his attention, seemed to be windows into other worlds. Places that Jason would never see himself being in.

However, he was still there. In each window, different in one way or another, he was still there.

One however, caught his attention.

“What’s the deal with this one?” Jason asked, interrupting Conga Tourmalines lecture on the infinite universes.

Conga looked over to the window Jason was looking over to. “Oh!” She said excitingly, walking over to Jason and the window. “This one is interesting.” She resumed her excited tone. “This one is similar to this current universe.” She explained. “Only, except of arriving on Earth, you arrive to the planet of Argent D’nur.”

Jason looked at the window, studying it. While he had “less than pleasant” feelings about his time on Earth, it now seemed like cake walk next to the universe he was currently looking at.

He only saw a small glimpse of it, but it seemed more than enough.

All he saw of his time in “Argent D’nur” was him, in complete, unfiltered fear, as he was grabbed by the collar of another human in an arena looking environment.

The other figure in the window, however, complimented Jason’s fear, with complete, untainted rage as he raised his fist to punch Jason’s entire head out of existence.

Due to no audio feed, Jason could not tell what the other being was saying at first, but he could read lips. If Jason was right, the other being was saying “Rip and Tear.”

“Unfortunately, you do not last long, in that universe.” Conga said in a sudden grim tone.

[gothamdetected-a]

an idiot’s guide to the wayne family.

now complete with new diagrams! i wish i wash kidding, ive really made a diagram to help illustrate this.

[ follow the link here for actual visible quality. thanks tumblr.]

some points to make quickly -

• this is not complete. there were probably more siblings and wives and children, but i just focused on the main lineage i could piece together from DC knowledge

• apologies for the lack of knowledge on the women in the family past the last century. this is unfortunately common in real life too, as women were not landowners etc, and without a marriage certificate they basically don’t show up on records. dc happily talk about the male line but not about the wives and daughters so :/

• the dates are fairly made up, and especially at the bottom are just me twisting things to fit my own personal canon

• and finally, i just wanted to say that while this is pieced together from what DC have told us, there are a lot of holes that i have filled with headcanons. not all of this is canon. sometimes i just want to give a person a cool life that dc are too cowardly to do.

so, although this varies by “earth”, i have tried to combine the various histories given for pre- and post-52 waynes into a full comprehensible timeline. i’ve probably failed, but this is what i’m sticking with.   

to start with we’re supposed to believe that there was a norse guy calling himself the Bat-Man, running around in the 10th century killing frost giants. is it plausible? yes. is it exaggerated? most definitely. am i wiping it from existence because it was one issue in a faintly terrible run that has technically been retconned anyway? absolutely. ignoring that makes the earliest recorded ancestor of the wayne family a man called gawayne de weyne, a french crusader in the 14th century. on some earths he’s called lancelot wayne (too on the nose) or harold wayne (thanks i hate it), so im personally going to retcon that and just say gawayne is it. also because i love the etymological aspect of the name beginning as de weyne in old high french and it slowly changing through out the centuries. gawayne, also sometimes written as gevain, was one of the knights sent to retrieve the holy grail, but, as knights tended to do, he died. sorry gawayne. the weirdest part about all of this is that he asked for his heart to be embalmed, and there’s a plot line revolving around this (batman: scottish connection). now i’m not saying that madness runs in the family, but the waynes absolutely do not get a good head start in history. 

gawayne must have had at least one surviving heir who goes on to have babies etc etc, and eventually we get to the 16th century, and the next instance of the waynes. specifically, contarf wayne. which, i have to say, super dumb name. if i ever have a kid, im calling it contarf. so it’s now the 1500s and the waynes have somehow become scottish, probably from getting given land after crusading and that. apparently gawayne was aknight of the scottish court, despite being french, which actually happened a lot back then. literally the only notable thing contarf does with his life is build castle wayne, and i swear these people are all born with both madness and a flair for the dramatic. yes at some point bruce does go to this gloomy scottish castle where it’s always rainy and stormy and fits right on in, so that’s terrifying.

around a hundred years later nathaniel wayne tries to emigrate across to the “new world”. nathaniel likes witchhunting, and has come over to what will one day be the US following a witch fleeing from england - annie. annie who he may have dated. annie who may be pregnant with his child. good on you nathaniel, that’s a healthy relationship you’ve got right there. after the baby is delivered, he finds her and. you know, people were not kind of witches back then, so she dies. and with her dying breath, curses nathaniel and all his descendants. which includes her OWN BABY (super punk move), and one day bruce wayne. this curse manifests in very few of the extant waynes surviving beyond 40, often going mad, and absolutely tuning on each other. nathaniel’s particular grisly end comes when his is the fateful colony that ends up in what-will-one-day-be-gotham (see my idiots guide to gotham for more juicy details), releasing the deacon blackfire from his little cave and ending up missing, presumed dead. (definitely dead). this is the start of the “waynes probably should avoid gotham” saga. spoiler alert - they don’t. 

somewhere in the interluding 100 years, a branch of the waynes do actually successfully make it over into the americas. 2 brothers, caleb and thomas simon wayne, reach the east coast from britain, and go their separate ways. caleb joins a convoy heading out west, leading a wagon train, and, as so many pioneers do, he also dies, while trying to make this trip. but caleb really isnt the interesting brother here (sorry man), because what thomas gets up to is far more exciting. he settles in, lo and behold, the newly formed town of gotham, and for some strange reason (probably because all the waynes are fairly nuts, as we’ve established at this point) decides to give devil-worshipping a go. maybe its fucking curse. maybe its something in the water. maybe its maybelline. but whatever it is, thomas wayne tries to summon and ensnare the demon barbatos by killing some innocents, in a wild, but understandable, attempt to gain immortality. he doesn’t succeed. or does he. it half works - instead of summoning the bat-demon (yes the same bat-demon that the founding fathers later summon and also trap beneath gotham) he gets one of darkseid’s hyper-dimensional bounty hunters, and some how, through some space age magic, the energy of this event corrupts him into agelessness/slowed ageing, we’re not totally sure. later dear old tom pops back up as the villainous dr simon hurt, and literally fights his own descendant. DC give no fucks. 

after the whole corrupting not-magic thing, but before he disappears, thomas/simon impregnates one of his cult’s disciples. a lot. (is this why the waynes can look 30 at 50? more on this at 10) and between 1747 and 1771 (because immortal people also have immortal sperm apparently), she bears him 3 sons. probably some daughters too but again, who cares about that. not DC, that’s for damn sure. these sons are all absolutely fucking insane, just like daddy dearest. the eldest, who is LITERALLY known as “mad” anthony wayne, is said to be the spitting image of bruce, which is confirmed through some time travelling bs that we’re not going to think about. anthony and horatio wayne, the middle brother, both sign up to fight in the revolutionary war. unfortunately THE CURSE STRIKES AGAIN and horatio perishes while burning british ships. anthony goes on to becomes a brigadier general, serving directly under george washington and pulls some crazy good strategies that help to kick the british out of new jersey, earning his nickname of “mad” anthony, because only someone fucking nuts could come up with these plans, and pull them off. the youngest brother darius wayne is only 4 when the war breaks out, and is therefore too Babey to fight, but does later become notable for being the man to start construction on wayne manor. in 1795, using the money inherited from his brother horatio on his death, he hires an architect nathan van derm, to begin planning and building. sadly darius will never see it completed, with funds dwindling and his older brother’s death, eventually darius takes his own life. 

not to worry, he leaves behind 2 sons - herkimer and charles wayne. literally herkimer’s only notable feature is that he fights in the war of 1812. sorry my guy, DC hate you. charles, on the other hand, is a businessman, who manages the failing company his father had left behind and starts to grow the wayne fortune. charles buys more land surrounding the manor, as well as a lot of general gotham real estate, and is the man accrediting for starting wayne enterprises as a series of several small business, ranging from merchant trading to land ownership to mining, in 1845. however charlie contracts tuberculosis at the ripe old age of 62 and shuffles off the mortal coil. 

the oldest of his sons, charles lincoln wayne, also known as charles junior, does 2 things - begins construction on the wayne manor again in 1855 after purchasing it back from jerome k. van derm, the destitute son of the original architect, who had been living in the bones of the construcion, and uses a considerable portion of his inheritance to build the gotham botanical gardens in 1870. the next son, winslow wayne, is another enigma - the only thing mentioned about him in the comics is that he fought alongside teddy roosevelt, which i’m guessing is in the spanish-american war. but the youngest two brothers, joshua thomas and solomon zebadiah wayne are the real spicy pair. not only do they tackle the bat infestation on the manor grounds, but the pair work to change the federal system of america - joshua, when he’s not managing the wayne companies, is an abolitionist who engages in secret missions to free slaves by getting them across the border into canada, and solomon, the vaguely more sensible of the two, becomes a judge, attempting to be as fair and incorruptible as possible. sadly joshua is killed due to his slave smuggling antics (THE CURRSSEE), and this sends solomon slightly nuts, and causes him to contract the architect cyrus pinkney, who is even more nuts, to basically. build gotham. these two men are the reason 97% of buildings have gargoyles on them. 

solomon has only 1 child before he dies, who fortunately, grows up to be a very shrewd businessman capable of growing wayne ent even through with the advent of shipping and rail sectors. this man, alan wayne, constructs the original wayne tower in 1888, and it completely swamps the gotham skyline. he also marries catherine van derm, the great granddaughter of the original architect of wayne manor, and finally manage to complete and move in to the building in 1895, exactly 100 years after the project was started. for a while they are very happy, and catherine falls pregnant. but this darn curse just won’t leave these wayne boys alone, and in 1897, catherine dies giving birth to their son, kenneth wayne. a year later, lost and traumatised and going insane thinking about his wife’s death alan wayne mysteriously disappears (read as: fell down a well and was maybe or maybe not tortured and killed by the court of owls). 

kenneth wayne, raised as virtually an orphan, turns out to have his papa’s business management skills, and, foreseeing america's impending industrialisation in the 20s and 30s, makes some risky moves that pay off, including the advent of wayne chemicals, and wayne ent expands yet again. kenneth, like the recurring pattern that you can see here, dies fairly early due to WW2 however, leaving his wife laura to care for their 4 sons AND the company, which she does like a boss ass bitch. seriously, women barely had the vote and she was already a titan of industry and raising 4 teenage boys like. massive props to you babe. these boys are

ishmael wayne, a whaler who is an incredible parody of captain ahab and also dies trying to catch a white whale, elwood wayne, who goes and reclaims what is now called waynemoor castle in scotland, living there until his death, silas wayne, who may or may not be a thief posing as a wayne because the real silas died, AND at long last, patrick wayne - bruce’s granpappy, who founded the wayne tech arm of the company at 20 years old, aiding the war effort, and where this stupidly long post ends, because there is 0 point in me recounting the lives of thomas, bruce, or any of his children. everyone knows them. could i write more about thomas’ siblings and the kanes and how they tie in? yes. but this post is like 2100 words long and i want to sleep at some point today so this will have to do askjdbjsdhgf

[yourpaljughead]

                                             summer time and the living is easy

want to plot with yourpaljughead during the summer hiatus? you’re in the right place! below is a list of show moments i would love to flesh out, or plot ideas i’ve always wanted to write. i will include an umbrella “season one” and “season two” plot call - since jughead is vastly different between the two. thank you for taking the time to read this and being interested in writing with my boy. if i am not following you no fear, just like this post (so i will message you) or reach out yourself so we can get the ball rolling! i’d like to write with new blogs as well as my tried and true, so this is open to everyone. (keep in mind the general rules i have for writing with other blogs still hold through this: if your blog doesn’t have a lot of writing i won’t follow, i’ll only write with mutuals, and anyone glorifying violence, rape, pedophilia or statutory rape will be ignored - writing that is fucked up). the plots will focus on specific show moments, but will also focus on characters and au verses.

                                       PLOTS AHOY - - - - ! !

jughead jones from the cw’s riverdale indie, private & highly selective eulogy given by v

show plot-specific:

one. season one homeless jughead (between the episodes of 1-4 when jug was living at the drive-in, and between episodes 4-7 before he “moves in” with archie). this is my most favorite jughead of all. i think he is very complex and guarded during these moments. i’m willing to “break canon” (for example having jughead interact with toni or any of the serpents). this is also room for jughead to hate on archie, which is very satisfying to write.

two. season two finale jughead. my second favorite jughead, the boy who now has leadership of the new serpents and is reeling after his almost-sacrifice. i want to explore his relationships with toni, cheryl, betty and any serpent characters who come our way. while he is dating betty canon, i’m willing to break that. i also don’t want to write things being lovey dovey and perfect between he and betty - this is just unrealistic given their particular placing (betty twisted up over her dad, jug having gone to die). i’m willing to play angst for this. i am also willing to explore fights with serpents. the serpents in the season two finale are not the serpents we’ve seen thus far. does your serpent character want this change? do they want to hold onto the old ways? do they like the changes jug is hoping to make? let’s explore. (this plot also includes camping!jughead).

two, a. i’d love to write out the serpents escaping through the town after cheryl warns them of hiram. that would be fun. obviously open to cheryls and any serpents! or those who might discover them along the way.

three. season two jughead circa episode 8 (or chapter 21). i want to explore what would have happened if jughead had kept true to his break up with betty. i want to explore what freedom feels like for him, since he felt very caged until that moment. i want to explore him descending further into the serpents as they stand pre-season two finale. my boy wants to cause a ruckus. ( shout out to @southsidelover​ )

four. what would have happened to jug if he’d followed in his father’s footsteps. serpent jug from the beginning, let’s explore how he would have moulded himself into the serpents. would he have even called himself jughead? or would he go by four/forsythe, and been a completely different person than we see in the show?

character specific:

jellybean. what if gladys had taken him to toledo and the two had grown up together? let’s explore an actual sibling relationship between these two. would they have moved back to riverdale together? in time for high school, or after graduation? let’s explore what would have happened if gladys and JB never left in the first place, or perhaps JB stayed without her mum. this is open for my JBs to explore and let me know what you think about your character!

betty. the real betty cooper, not the romanticized one. the one who struggles with mental illness (functioning or otherwise), and who feels immense guilt from her position with jughead, her father and potentially the serpents. ( shout out to @forbiddenfrut​ ). this doesn’t have to be lovey dovey, in fact i don’t picture it to be. jug’s “want to be my queen” moment was, in my exploration of jug, out of love. like when kids say “marry me” but don’t really mean it. so let’s explore what happens if betty accepts and how jughead would fight back against that. or perhaps if betty had tried to become a serpent after her dance. let’s explore the angst, the fighting; the real.

veronica. i’ve had such a back and forth relationship with veronica during the show. i want to explore these two post season 2. i want to see their relationship grow as jughead realizes he can trust veronica, at the same time showing veronica that he respects her sacrifices. he can show her how to live a semi-homeless life, or how to break into pembrooke for her clothes without anyone seeing them. i want to explore a legitimate friendship between these two. (anyone who wants to explore pre-season 2 finale, that’s okay, but it won’t differ much from the show. jug doesn’t like her).

toni. i want to explore their wild, interesting relationship. how does toni know so much about him? were they close friends as kids, losing contact as jug moved his school life to the northside? or do they keep up on weekends, laughing about the privileged kids? is this verse based on a serpent jughead (see plot four, where jug was always a serpent)? this plot also intertwines with plot three, had he stuck with his break up with betty and dug deeper into the serpents.

archie. i want these two to fight - circa riverdale’s season one episode 1-4, and season two episode 6, chapter 19, and episode 16, chapter 29. i want to explore their friendship, both the good and bad. i want to explore how jughead handles archie’s PTSD and in turn how archie handles jug descending into the serpents. (there is zero room for romantic relationships here - platonic only). this is open for your interpretation on archie and how he handles his mental illness (if any) and his PTSD. this can also include any manipulation and emotional abuse from hiram lodge.

cheryl. i’ve always had a pull toward cheryl and jughead but i want to explore their relationship realistically. i want to explore the moment jughead returns her iconic spider broach, or after cheryl’s testimony at his father’s arraignment. would jughead find out betty blackmailed her, and if so how would that impact his relationship with betty? for season one, of course we can explore their non-existent relationship (if there even is much to write aside from them bickering/ignoring each other). for season 2, i want to explore a moment of vulnerability after jug’s sacrifice, since cheryl is the only one who can relate. i want to explore cheryl’s newfound serpent status and how jug wants her to be vocal about where she thinks the “gang” should go. this is open for platonic and romantic lines - but i suspect platonic will be where we start. i’m willing to break canon and make jughead single ( since mun and muse are sick of betty’s shit. smiley face emoji ). ( shout out to @chaosblossomed )

sweet pea. i want to explore their dynamic as it stands show canon. i want to see how sweet pea reacts to the things jug wants to change in the serpents, or if sweet pea cares at all. does sweet pea really want leadership, or is he okay being the Bodyguard, so to speak, of the “gang”? the show has moments where, while sweet pea DOES go head to head with jug, he shows up and comes through for jug. i want to explore that dynamic of “i’m here for the serpents even if i don’t agree with you”. (there is zero room for romantic relationships here - platonic only).

remaining characters. don’t think you’re excluded, i just haven’t had much interaction with characters other than the specific ones above. i am ABSOLUTELY open to exploring relationships with your character - just message me and we can figure out our own plot lines together. there are definite things i want to explore with characters outside the ones listed above, so let’s get talking!

OCs & non-Riverdale (riverdale verse specific, see below for AU). please don’t hesitate to reach out if you’re an OC or a character with a riverdale verse!!! i’m absolutely open to exploring new relationships. any plots will be fleshed out together! yay!

AU verse specific:

OCs & non-Riverdale (any verse not riverdale, see above for riverdale-specific). if you’re an OC or a character from another TV show/book/movie/etc verse, reach out! i’m more than happy to work in jughead into your world, whatever that may be. if you’ve always wondered how jughead would mix in with your character or your verse, i’m your muse!

gossip girl. for this verse, i want jughead to be similar to chuck bass circa season one. rich kid, drug user (we’re going to exclude the sexual assault). i’m willing to work jughead into wherever your gossip girl character may rest, or if you’d like to work your character into a GG verse as well.

the 100. i haven’t kept up with the 100 since the clexa nightmare, but i would like to focus on season 1-ish, where everyone has just landed back on earth. i want to explore a murphy-like verse, maybe a bit of jasper in there. this is open to discussing more since i haven’t kept up with the show in ages (remind me to do a re-watch).

animal kingdom. this show is amazing, go watch it immediately if you haven’t. i want to explore jug’s life if his entire family had been career criminals. very show specific plots in mind, happy to explore the canon verse in california. mix between season one and season 3 Jay.

scream tv show. shout out to the OG season 1, 2 and halloween special. i want to throw jug into this world so bad. whatever and wherever you want to put your character is good for me. if you have a scream tv muse, HIT A GIRL UP. if you want to throw your muse into the verse, too, let’s plot!

 rupaul’s drag race. im fucking kidding.

the vampire diaries/shadow hunters. i would be open to exploring a plot somewhere in these worlds. i haven’t watched either show in ages, but if you have a character and you’d love to see jug intertwined with your verse, let me know! i’m definitely open :)

various movies/horror verse. here are a list of movie verses i would like to explore, if you’re interested let me know and we can plot together!! the purge, the strangers, you’re next, baby driver, gone girl, hush, OG scream trilogy. if you have something in mind other than these, let me know!

[shireness-says]

Merry Christmas to All

Summary:  Christmas has become An Event in the Swan-Jones household. ~2.2K. Rated G. Also on AO3.

A/N: Here, have another wildly unseasonal piece, transferred from AO3 in honor of the Fandom Crescendo! Pretty much no plot - just a lot of fluffy family feels. At Christmas. What more could you want? Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

“Psst.”

The little whisper isn’t really a shock. Over the past couple years, Killian has grown very accustomed to the noise. In reality, he’s been only dozing for perhaps the past twenty minutes, enjoying a few more minutes in the sole company of his lovely wife before the chaos the day will undoubtedly bring. However, his morning visitor doesn’t need to know that he would have been up in the next half hour, regardless. Half the fun – for both of them – is pretending to still be asleep.

“Psst. Papa. Papa, wake up.”

Even after over four and a half years, the title still brings a smile to his face, and he can’t help but turn his head to see blue eyes and bouncing energy.

It had been a bit of a wait to be blessed with their own child, but Amelia Alice Jones is worth every moment. She’s a happy, cheerful child, curious about absolutely everything, with his eyes and hair in a red-brown shade Killian thought only existed in storybooks. In short, she’s perfect.

Emma’s still sleeping – it had been a bit of a long night in the Swan-Jones household – but thankfully, Amelia has the good common sense to whisper. Brilliant little lass. “Papa, you’ve got to get up, it’s Christmas!”

As if he could forget.

Christmas has been a bit of an event ever since he and Emma got married. Things had properly settled down in Storybrooke not long after their nuptials – the occasional disturbance at most, no more of this ‘villian of the week’ nonsense – and Christmas had been one of the first holidays their little family had cause to celebrate. Emma and Henry had gone all out to introduce him to the holiday, with peppermint everything and eggnog and weeks of Christmas movie marathons, a fire roaring in the fireplace and a beautifully decorated tree in the corner. Christmas morning, Henry and Emma had teamed up to jump on him, screeching about Christmas, so his wakeup call this morning is sedate in comparison. All the same, he treasures the memories of that first holiday.

Subsequent holidays had been somewhat tamer – always with a family lunch at the Nolan’s farmhouse, some years spending the morning with Henry, some years not. After Henry had embarked on his quest to find his own story, holidays were somewhat sadder, Emma (okay, Killian too) nostalgic for the afternoons curled up on the couch with Henry, watching the snow fall. Their ever-unsuccessful efforts to start their own family only added to the vague melancholy, especially as Emma’s parents continued to reproduce like rabbits – Emma now the proud older sister to four siblings. Thankfully, by the time Regina joined Henry, they were finally expecting a little one of their own, the excitement and preparations somewhat tempering any sorrow Emma might have felt about losing her friend and confidant. Regina and Emma may have had a rough start, but the two women not only reached an understanding, but developed a close friendship over the years.

Christmas may have always been special, but everything changes when Amelia arrives. She’s a mere seven months old that first Christmas, not nearly old enough to remember anything, but Killian and Emma act like a pair of fools, buying her far more toys than any infant more interested in the paper ever needs. Last year was the first Christmas they knew she might actually remember, and so they had gone all out all over again. Hopefully, Amelia will have lovely memories of making cookies and ice skating and opening presents with Mama and Papa that will last her for years.

Transported back to the present by an insistent tug on his sleeve, he flashes a grin at his daughter and swings his legs out of bed, careful not to wake Emma. Resting his stump on Amelia’s back, he motions for her to keep quiet as they make their way out into the hallway and shut the door again.

“Let’s let Mama sleep a bit longer, okay darling?”

She nods, very serious. Oh, his precious little lass.

“Shall we make her some breakfast for when she wakes up?”

Well, that gets her attention, as Amelia scampers for the stairs in an auburn blur of flying curls, making him chuckle.

He’ll meet her in the kitchen soon enough – he’s got another stop to make first.

———

Killian practically inches open the door to the small, green corner room before noticing its inhabitant is already awake, if still quiet.

After so much struggle to conceive Amelia, Killian and Emma had assumed their daughter would be the only child they’d raise from birth, the only sibling Henry would have. But four and a half years and a very careless Valentine’s Day later, he and Emma became parents again – this time to a little boy, their little Dash. Well, Dashiell. Dashiell Liam. A tiny, precious bundle now a full nine weeks old.

It’s been a little bit of an adjustment period with Dash, in the best of ways. Amelia had been a whirlwind since the day she was born – loud and determined to be the center of attention, and Gods help the man or woman who didn’t grant her their full and prompt attention. Dash, in contrast, is a quieter little lad – Amelia’s piercing wails traded for his less noisy whimpers, like he’s set on being polite or some such idea. Of course, with the full practice of a father to now two young children, Killian wakes to any noise from the baby monitor anyhow, as does Emma. He’d forgotten, truly, how tricky sleeping with a newborn is, now that Amelia (mostly) sleeps through the night, but now he’s up again every few hours because Dash is hungry or needs a change or just wants a little company.

Right now, though, Dash seems perfectly happy just to pedal his arms and legs in his seasonal, candy striped onesie, distracted by the colorful mobile above his bassinet. Soon enough, though, as Killian bends over the crib to scoop his little lad up, he’s treated to a genuine smile from Dash as he sees his Papa. The smiles only started last week – an early Christmas gift, Emma had told Killian – and Killian is still reveling in every toothless grin.

“Hello, laddie, are you ready for Christmas?”

Dash just continues to smile. He’ll take that as a yes.

“Well I think your big sister is downstairs, ready to make Mama a proper feast. Shall we go see her?”

He gets a happy sounding gurgle and grab for his nose in response. Another yes, surely.

“Alright, let’s go see sissy.”

Sure enough, Amelia has pulled out half the refrigerator to cook. Those frozen biscuits she likes so much, bacon, a nearly empty bag of hash browns (he thinks there’s another in the fridge – otherwise he may be dealing with a very disappointed pre-schooler), the box of frozen waffles, a can of cinnamon rolls… the eggs are still in the fridge, but Killian suspects that’s only because his daughter still couldn’t reach them, even with her little kitchen stool. He chuckles at her haul, before quickly moving in to limit her picks.

“I know you’re excited, little love, but we can’t eat all of this. Pick only a few things, please.”

She settles for hash browns, biscuits, and bacon, happily putting the rest back into the fridge as Killian settles Dash into the baby swing he’s only just grown into.

By the time Emma sleepily stumbles down the stairs, yawning all the while, breakfast is almost ready – the bacon already out of the microwave, the hash browns just flipped over, and the biscuits coming out of the oven in the next few minutes. She presses a quick kiss to his lips as Amelia barrels over, shrieking at the top of her lungs, “Merry Christmas, Mama!”

“Merry Christmas, Duckling!” Emma cheers back, before leaning over to whisper in his ear. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

He barely has a chance to kiss her again before she’s moving to the swing, where Dash has perked up again at hearing his mother’s voice. Killian is well aware that this may be their last relatively quiet moment of the day before chaos descends, but he almost doesn’t care. Christmas is always an event, but this year will be particularly special, since it’s the first Henry – and his family – will spend with them since his return from his time cursed in Washington.

Emma had been ecstatic at the return of her son – though how many of those tears were the result of hormones is anyone’s guess. Killian had been smacked for even suggesting it. Regardless, Henry is thrilled with his siblings, Emma is besotted with Lucy (“God, Killian, I’m way too young to be grandmother to a kid that old. Is this how my mother feels?”), and everyone even admits that it’s nice to have Regina back in town. Granted, it’s still a relief that the other him elected to stay behind in Hyperion Heights, endeavoring to bring order to a town only newly aware of their formerly cursed state. Killian isn’t sure he’s nearly awake enough these past days to have been able to keep track of conversation had there been two Killians running around.

Killian may be looking forward to a holiday with his stepson, but it’s Amelia who’s truly thrilled. She’s come up with all kinds of plans, seemingly determined to fit an entire year’s worth of activities into a single day. To his amusement, she’s detailing all her plans of what she and Henry and Ella and Lucy are going to do for what must be the tenth time to Emma. Thank the gods that Henry’s wife and daughter are just as good of sports and Henry is.

“…and then, after the snowball fight, we’ll have hot chocolate, and Grandma can help us make cookies, and maybe then you and Auntie Regina can make an ice rink! And then I wanna show Lucy Rudolph cus she’s never seen it, Henry says…” She’s barely taken a bite in her excitement, and while part of him wants to just sit and listen to her babble on, Killian is still very well aware of the absurd schedule his mother-in-law will undoubtedly demand they stick to religiously. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and while they may have opened all the gifts last night, he’s still got something up his sleeve.

“Melly, darling, if you hurry up and eat your breakfast, I think I might have seem something in your stocking…”

Emma and he had decided that first Christmas with Amelia that they were going to try not to play up the Santa Claus thing. Emma doesn’t have particularly fond memories of the practice, and with their luck, Santa would turn out to be real, and some kind of villain who’d turn up in the future to terrorize the town. No, better just to leave a few candies and small things in the stockings, and make a big deal out of all the family traditions instead.

Still, the promise of stocking gifts is enough to get Amelia gobbling down her breakfast and bouncing in her seat as she’s now forced to wait for her parents to finish. When they’re finally done, Killian is practically dragged into the living room by his small daughter, leaving a chuckling Emma to gather up Dash and meet them by the tree.

As Amelia tears into her stocking – just some candy from them and a couple of ornaments for the small tree in her room – Emma leans into his side with the baby, allowing him to drape his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you for letting me sleep,” she murmurs, and he smiles back at her.

“Of course, love, you deserved a little extra time.”

“All the same… thanks. I think we forgot how tiring the first few weeks are. Can that be my Christmas gift this year? An extra hour of sleep for the next few days? Can someone set that up? Oh! Maybe Mom and Dad will babysit!”

Truthfully, Killian could go for an afternoon to themselves as well, albeit perhaps with some extra activities. He’s a father twice over – he knows what the six-week checkup meant, even if they haven’t been able to act on it yet. And then sleep. Several hours of sleep. Probably not all night, since the Charmings have four kids under nine in the house and Snow’s been talking about another, but Gods above, even just an afternoon of uninterrupted sleep would be a dream come true.

He presses a kiss to her forehead and holds a little tighter before replying. “Aye, Swan, that would be lovely. Perhaps they’ll offer today when we go over.”

Across the room, Amelia is giddy with her haul. “Look, Papa, it’s a little pirate ship for my tree! Like the Jolly, Papa!”

Soon enough, they’ll have to leave, have to drive to the Nolan farmhouse before Snow blows some sort of Christmas stress induced gasket. But for now, he’s content to snuggle with his wife and son on the couch as his daughter tells them in great detail about each and every thing she’s found in her stocking.

Merry Christmas, one and all.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

HERE'S WHAT I JUST REALIZED ABOUT FDR

You do not want to repeat. It's possible you could meet a cofounder through something like a user's group or a conference. That's why we rarely hear phrases like qualified expert in the software business happens in startups, and b explain why users will want it. I'm all for shutting down the crooked ways to get rich, they'd behave like bureaucrats. I do. It became possible to make lots of new things, and sometimes the existing companies weren't the ones who wake up during the operation. IBM completely dominated the computer industry. Many are stunningly bad, but that's always true of ambitious efforts. And this idea will thus tend to get all the benefit of that type of application, the more willing they seem to have any intellectual descendants.

Cobol, for all its sometime popularity, does not seem to have. There's a lesson here: startups beget startups. Version 2 was higher resolution: there were more and more college graduates. With sufficiently lightweight standardized equity terms and some changes in investors' and lawyers' expectations about equity rounds you might be able to write, but it's close enough that you're better off aiming for the solid target of brevity than the fuzzy, nearby one of least work. Suppose you wanted to get rich would all start startups. But once it became possible to make lots of money. But while I'd spent a lot of experience themselves in the technology business.

And so they do encourage innovation indirectly, in that they give more power to startups, which is where, pound for pound, the most common question they hear from investors is not about the founders or the product, but who else is investing? Certainly this tends to be way more than the sum of its patents. Can you have a smaller pool to draw from this is not only inevitable, but desirable. But because the lies are indirect we don't keep a very strict accounting of them. Bolder investors will now get rewarded with lower prices. I'm spending a lot of money. If it fails, you'll be sued by multiple patent trolls who hope you'll pay them off to go away. In theory this is possible for species too, but nothing like as bad as I'd feel if I spent the whole day on the sofa and watched TV all day—days at the end of the summer. It's more important than the initial idea that we're going to try something new this funding cycle. All adults know what their culture lies to kids about how good their judgement is, we then have to lie again about all the things they might get into trouble with if they believed us. It seems to be hard for most people to write in spoken language.

This would encourage what is already the worst trait of big companies make more now than they used to, and I think much of the design and manufacturing happens in a long supply chain, whose products the car companies ultimately assemble and sell. We know we have to understand it, and that Kennedy was a speed freak to boot. I couldn't even remember what else I had stored in that attic. FDR said not a single war millionaire would be permitted. Sometimes it's because the writer only has very high-level data and so draws conclusions from that, like speculating in securities. It may be that the refragmentation was driven by steam engines. Magnates still have bodyguards, but no rich people. People have been talking about parallel computation as something imminent for at least 20 years, and it was practically impossible to find alternatives. I didn't really grasp I was going to take care of you. When parents are of different religions, they'll often agree between themselves that their children will be raised as Xes. Probably the cause is not some force that's pulling us apart, but rather the erosion of forces that had been more or less united was divided into haves and have-nots.

Decreasing economic inequality means taking money from engineers and giving it to checkout clerks, you could reproduce Silicon Valley. Raising an old-fashioned fixed-size equity round with a lead makes sense, because there is usually just one big investor, who is unequivocally the lead. If I woke up one morning and sat down on the top as well as taking it from others. Before central governments were powerful enough to enforce order, rich people had private armies. He seemed to have lost their virginity at an average of about 14 and by college had tried more drugs than I'd even heard of. Our first batch, in the form of having few ideas than wrong ones. It probably didn't occur to most of them to ask if this was so. And if you think it takes a company to succeed, which probably averages about five years.

The real lesson to draw from, but most already have jobs, and perhaps all pre-industrial societies. It's just unbearably inefficient. Work and life just get mixed together. It's not economic inequality per se that's blocking social mobility, but some specific combination of things that go wrong when kids grow up sufficiently poor. Closely related to poverty is lack of social mobility. Speculative meetings are terribly costly if you're on the manager's schedule and the maker's schedule? Old towns have two advantages: they're denser, because they dislike other big tourist destinations: San Francisco, or Boston, or Seattle. More movement or even potential movement between companies introduced more competition in salaries. Companies like Microsoft and Oracle don't win by winning lawsuits. When you demo, don't run through a catalog of features. It would probably be a pretty narrow one.

But what happened to them. Life can be pretty good at 10 or 20, but it's close enough that you're better off aiming for the solid target of brevity than the fuzzy, nearby one of least work. It gives the acquirer an excuse to work on anything, and you're going to have to think about that thing for years—perhaps for the rest is diminished. Now much of the reason I say this is optimism: it seems that in most types of engineering you can hand the details of some new acquisition wasn't the difference between its retail price and what I paid for it. There are few corporations in which it would be: the reason you should avoid these things is that you make what you measure. Any rate they didn't pursue the suit very vigorously. If you don't genuinely believe that, and what they use it for. The exciting thing is, they're not even fun. It was the value I derived from it. A cluttered room is literally exhausting. If your team refuses to do it well or they can be sued for.

Thanks to Aaron Swartz, Justin Kan, Geoff Ralston, Robert Morris, Trevor Blackwell, Dan Bloomberg, and all the founders who responded to my email for inviting me to speak.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Bucky Barnes goes back in time to save Tony Stark from himself, in whatever for that might take... could be established relationship, could be a Civil War fix it, time loop.... Tony sending Bucky back in time thinking Bucky would choose Steve, anything you like... just Bucky doing everything in his power to make Tony safe and happy (with him)! Please and thank you.

Combined with:

Bucky from the future travels back in time to protect pre-im Tony.

The Things We Relive: Part 1

Sometimes what Tony really needs protection from is himself.

As the room resolved around him with a dizzying blur, Bucky looked down at the baby cooing in the crib, arms and legs waving as he watched the mobile over the crib rotating slowly, little planes and rockets bobbing gently in the breeze left by Bucky’s sudden appearance.

“Shit. Too far.” He held up his walkie talkie and squeezed the button, hoping that it would work like they all guessed it would. “Guys, you sent me too far.  He’s just a baby.”  He reached into the crib with his metal hand, letting little Tony grab his finger.  “Hey, cutie,” he murmured. “How ya doing?  Trying to save the world yet? No, cuz you can’t even talk. Look at you, little Iron Baby.”  Tony was gumming Bucky’s finger when he realized that his mike was still active.  He let go of the button and felt his face get hot during the long silence that followed.

“Roger that, James,” Natasha said, laughter still in her voice.  At least it was a break from the tension of the past few days as they tried to figure out how to work Tony’s time machine.  “Come on back and we’ll reset the settings and try again.”

“10-4.” This time Bucky remembered to let go of the button before he leaned over the crib. He set the walkie talkie down and ran his flesh hand over the downy hair on Tony’s scalp, tracing a finger down his soft cheek.  Tony turned his head towards the sensation and waved his chubby arms and legs until he managed to turn over onto his stomach, looking surprised.  Bucky smiled gently as Tony’s big head bobbled as he tried to look up at Bucky and felt his chest get tight.  “I miss you, Tony.  We’re going to fix this, ok?  It’s going to be alright.”

“Who the hell are you?” A woman demanded shrilly from the door. “Get away from my baby!”

Bucky had just enough time to grab the walkie and hit the getaway button before Maria Stark descended on him like a Valkyrie.

(Watch out for the break!)

“Did anyone see you?” Natasha asked when he reappeared in Tony’s lab.

“Tony’s mom, but she wouldn’t recognize me.”

Natasha raised her eyebrow and said dryly, “But I imagine than seeing someone disappear into thin air might cause some comment.”

“Oh, yeah. Whoops.”  Bucky chewed on his lip for a moment and then had to shrug. “Can’t do anything about it now.  We don’t have time to go back and fix it, right? I’ll do better next time.  Maybe she’ll just think she hallucinated or something.”  He hesitated. “How’s Steve?”

“Still in the hospital, but the doctors say he’s healing well.  Sam’s with him now.”

“Does he know?”

“No.” She shook her head, her red hair swinging gently. She tucked some of it behind her ear and pretended like she was studying the control panel. “Right now it’s just us, but I feel like it’s only a matter of time before Dr. Strange comes around wondering why Tony wanted to study his necklace.”

“Yeah.” Bucky frowned at the Eye of Agamemnon, which was staring out of Tony’s machine impassively, shining green and looking vaguely sinister amidst the shiny steel and glass device Tony built to harness its power. “Alright, let’s go again.”

Natasha looked at Tony’s scrawled notes, somehow managing to read his handwriting, and did something to the control panel. “Ready?”

Bucky tugged his sleeve and his glove to make sure his arm was covered, and smoothed down his hair under his hat.  He took a deep breath and said, “Ok, go.”

This time Bucky flickered into existence in a shady park, near an elaborate playground that only had a couple of kids on it.  Bucky’s brow creased as he swiftly examined his surroundings, trying to find Tony.  There was one woman sitting on a bench with a baby carrier at her feet, trying to divide her attention between the baby and a blonde hair girl throwing sand in the sandbox.  On the far side of the playground a man had a briefcase opened next to him and was deeply absorbed in a file of papers while on the playground the only other kid was a dark-haired boy climbing all the way to the top of the structure, which was at least twenty feet off the ground.

“Dad! Look at me, Dad!” The boy called out as he balanced precariously on the highest railing, one hand holding on while the other waved at the oblivious businessman.

“Goddammit, Howard,” Bucky growled. “Tony, stop!” he shouted as loud as he dared. “Get down!” he went around to the other side of the structure so that Howard wouldn’t see him and gestured for Tony to come down.  Tony glanced at him curiously, clearly wondering why this strange man knew his name, but then he turned back to his father.

“Dad!”

Bucky started to climb the structure to get him when Tony lost his balance with a sharp cry of surprise.  He caught himself for a minute with one hand, but it quickly slipped off.  Bucky managed to catch him as he fell, reaching out through the bars to grab a wrist before Tony could hit the ground. “Come on, grab on,” he urged, and Tony, wide-eyed and breathing shakily from adrenaline, finally grabbed the bars and let Bucky help him climb over until he was standing on one of the playground’s metal walkways.  “You ok?”

Tony nodded, still looking like he wanted to cry but holding it in with a tight jaw and damp eyes. Bucky watched him and got a lump in his throat; Tony was already starting to swallow his pain and he was what, six?  Bucky knelt down so he was eye to eye with Tony. “Hey, it’s ok.  It’s ok to be scared or sad or upset, you know? You don’t have to keep it in all the time. It’s not good for you, like trying to hold in a sneeze.”  Bucky mimed holding a sneeze and then having something explode out his ears, and grinned when Tony giggled.  “The more you hold in those feelings the worse it gets when they finally come out.  Even if you have to go somewhere to be by yourself, cry if you need to, ok?  I know what your dad probably says,” Bucky glanced at where Howard had yet to look up from whatever he was writing, “but it doesn’t actually make you less of a man to cry.” Tony looked dubious but he eventually nodded.  “I’ve gotta go now, but I want to show you something cool.”  When Tony’s eyes lit up, Bucky pulled his glove off and waved his metal fingers at Tony.

“Holy shit!” Tony said and Bucky shushed him with a laugh.  “Are you a robot?”

“A little bit. I came from the future to save your life.  Be a little more careful so I don’t have so much work to do, ok?” Bucky winked and gave Tony a high five with the metal hand.

He jumped down off the structure and clicked the button on his walkie as soon as he was out of sight of the playground and he was sure no one was around. “Tasha, he’s six.  Still too soon, I'm coming back.”

“Bleh,” Bucky said when he appeared back in Tony’s lab, feeling a bit queasy.  He waved off Natasha’s curious look and smothered a burp.  “Whatever changes you made last time, you gotta do them a bit more this time.”

“Ok. Did anyone see you?”

“Nope,” Bucky lied. “He was on a playground with Howard.”  He chugged a bottle of water while Natasha fiddled again with the control panel.  He eyed the clock on the wall; even though he had spent maybe ten minutes on the playground, a couple of hours had passed here. Thinking about how long Tony had been gone before they realized what he’d done made Bucky’s stomach roil again, so he pushed the thought away.

“I’m being cautious because I don’t want to go too far,” she explained as Bucky got ready to go back again.  “You’ll probably be too soon again, but at least I’ll know what kind of increments this thing is calibrated to.”

Bucky nodded, and then there was a brain hurting blackness and then Bucky was standing in the middle of what looked like a college campus.  Someone on a skateboard ran into him and fell down to the pavement when Bucky didn’t give at all.  “Watch it, man,” the kid scowled and grabbed his skateboard while Bucky just stared.  Bucky knew that he was still too early, because this was probably while Tony was in college, but the prospect of seeing a teenage Tony was too good to pass up. With a guilty mental apology to Natasha, Bucky tried to look less like a shifty hobo while he looked around.  

It turned out to be pretty easy to find him, despite the fact that MIT was a pretty large campus.  Bucky recognized DUM-E in the middle of one of the brick courtyards, picking up and sorting items out of the pile in front of it.  Tony was watching proudly while people were chattering excitedly and adding to the pile for DUM-E to sort.  Beside him, Bucky recognized a young Rhodey, elbowing him and making some joke that had Tony laughing.

Bucky let himself watch Tony be happy for a while.  The shadows that would haunt Tony’s eyes later were barely present now, the weight of the world only lightly tugging at his shoulders.  He rubbed a hand over his sternum, swallowing thickly at the sudden ache in his chest.  “Still too soon,” he finally said into his walkie talkie. “I think he’s seventeen.”

“Closer, then.  Ok.”

When he was back in Tony’s lab he smothered the urge to punch Tony’s stupid time machine. The queasy feeling was back, and stronger now. “Why doesn’t this goddamned Eye of Amaretto-“

“Agamoto.”

“Whatever come with some instructions?  This is so aggravating.”  Outside it had grown dark, and Natasha was starting to look tired.  Hopefully this would be the last trip.

“We don’t need instructions for the artifact, we need them for the machine, and unfortunately they mostly exist in Tony’s head right now.  I think we’re doing ok, honestly.  I already have the next jump prepared, are you ready?”  

“Yeah.”  Natasha gazed at him searchingly; this trip was going to be the hard one, hard for Bucky specifically, but he refused to let her take his place.  Not the least because there was no way Bucky would be able to figure out the controls for the machine as fast as Natasha did.

This time Buckly closed his eyes, knowing before he opened them that Natasha had gotten it right this time.  The chill in the air, the sound of wind through evergreen trees, the gravel he could feel under his boots.  Bucky opened his eyes and saw a dirt road stretch before him, empty and quiet.  He took a few shaky breaths and positioned himself by the side of the road to wait.

It took an hour for the sound of a car to reach his ears.  Bucky felt his entire body tense and he kept an eye out for the distinctive light of an Iron Man suit. Too soon, Bucky also heard the growl of a motorcycle and he had to breath shallowly or he thought he was going to throw up. When the sound of a blown tire and the screech of brakes came, he forced himself to get closer to the road so that he would see Tony before anyone else did.

But Tony never came.  Bucky forced himself to stay for “Sergeant Barnes?” and the sickening crunch of a metal fist hitting Howard’s face, for “Howard? Howard!” and the barely audible sounds of someone being strangled.  Even though he knew it was coming the sound of the gunshot made him jump, then came the closing of the trunk and the roar of the motorcycle as the Winter Soldier left.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, listening to the tick and hiss of the damaged motor, before he brought the walkie talkie up to his face, realizing only at that moment that his cheeks were wet.  “We were wrong, Natasha. He didn’t come here.”