#she feels worthless and disposable because of her Dad

[b-rainlet]

I know that it's a little over the top with all the plot twists and everything, but I do love how from S1 on, Melinda's main issue has always been her fear of abandonment and how that's 100% connected to her Dad leaving when she was 9.

[dearest-painter]

May I ask please for a part to where he decides to adopt her as his child but he soon realizes that she has trust issues and struggles to express herself since she was always used to relying on herself and bearing her emotions

and she can't tell if she can trust him or not

Because the last man she trusted neglected her

And made her feel worthless

And is the reason her older sister Yui is gone

I think there's an ending where Yui dies

And her new dad isn't mad at her but he is mad at her biological father for doing that

So he promises himself that he'll never let her feel that way ever again while planning to dispose of her biological father

Thank you very much for taking my requests I really appreciate it and I like reading them

TW/CW:Abusive behavior,abusive relationship, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,Yandere behavior, mentions of being injured, overprotective anxiety that turns into a overprotective obsession, Tell me if I need to add more

Summary:We’ll meet people who will heal our past…even if they become obsessive and overprotective of you but that’s what a good, caring dad is like!

Kianna is still surprised she was adopted by a new man but she isn’t sure why he adopted her. Obanai saw how Kianna watched him with uneasy eyes which made him sad as she’s obviously been betrayed and hurt by someone but he’ll be a good dad to her. Kianna always looked beside her as if she was waiting for someone.

Soon Obanai found out why she felt uneasy, she was neglected, force to take care of herself, grow up to young, and took her sister away. He’s pissed…not at Kianna, oh no she did nothing wrong..he’s pissed off at her biological father. He’s hurt HIS daughter for to long…he’ll be a much better dad then that man will ever be but…he needs to make sure that that man won’t come near his daughter again.

[hb-writes]

Thank you but no.

Inspired by my 100+ lovely followers, @love-me-a-good-prompt’s “THANK YOU IDEAS” prompt list, and request from a lovely anon.

Summary: When the Cullen siblings continuing pushing their human sister to play baseball with them even after she’s said no, Mia grows frustrated and storms off. Carlisle helps his daughter explore the feelings behind her outburst.

Featuring: Carlisle Cullen and Mia Cullen 

--

Mia didn’t bother running when she stormed off. The speed of her departure never made any difference anyhow. If any of the others had felt inclined to stop her, they could make easy work of it, and it would have been done long before she reached the tree line. 

She knew someone would come eventually. Someone always did, one of her siblings or her parents drawing the proverbial short straw, that person responsible for dealing with Mia’s frivolous human inconvenience of the day. Whoever came after her, it was almost always the right choice, like they all formed a little huddle to decide amongst themselves who could best manage her and her behavior and her mood, like she was something to be handled, a problem to be solved with efficiency and delicacy—a ticking bomb. 

It sometimes felt that way to Mia, like she was an inconvenience or something that needed to be constantly managed by the rest of the family, in one way or another, their lives were constantly modified to accommodate her and ensure she didn’t feel left out or less than. But the modifications and accommodations did the opposite and Mia felt sick of it, sick of earning participation trophies when the others all easily took first place. She was sick of being merely mediocre at everything in comparison. 

Mia settled on a rock beside the stream, rubbing her chilled hands together and wishing she remembered to grab her coat before coming out, already feeling the cold of the rock seeping through her jeans and into her skin, her thin shirt not nearly warm enough for any prolonged exposure. Shivering already at the wind's bite she knew she wouldn’t last long, but she wasn’t ready to admit defeat this soon so she focused her attention on pushing her heel through the mud, watching as the silt piled up at the end of her foot’s reach.

“I already said no,” Mia muttered, her eyes still on her feet as the leaves crunched behind her.

“Thank you, but no,“ she repeated the words she’d said to them all just before. "I don—” Mia stopped as her father’s shoes edged in beside the wall of mud and earth and she glanced up to him, a deep sigh heaving her shoulders as she pushed her foot forward once again.

“Hi, Dad.”

Carlisle smiled a bit at that, took it as a sign that this would all go a bit smoother than his wife and other children had suggested. His daughter had seemingly calmed herself at least a bit, her heart rate much slower and her words much kinder than they’d been a few minutes prior.

“Hello, Mia.”

Carlisle held the coat out for her and Mia fit her arms inside, wrapping the coat around her and shoving her hands into the pockets.

“Any room for me on that rock?”

“Depends on if you came out to yell at me." Mia mumbled her words, once again pushing her foot through the mud that had slid back into her trench. 

“How often do I yell at you?” 

Mia's heel worked on a stubborn bit of stone stuck in her path. Carlisle didn’t often yell at anyone, let alone her. Mia remembered only a handful of times in her whole life when she had been the intended audience. And those times weren’t borne from infractions like shouting at her siblings.

“Lecture, then,” she offered with a shrug as the stone broke free and she kicked it from her foot's path. 

“Well, that’s a very different thing.” Carlisle smiled. “And I prefer to think of it as a discussion. It’s not often so one-sided between you and me, is it?” 

Mia exhaled and scooted over, allowing Carlisle enough room to sit beside her, their timing coordinated near perfectly as she leaned into him and he fit his arm over her shoulder. 

"So, what was all that about?” he asked.

“They just wouldn’t stop,” Mia said. “I said, ‘thank you, but no.’ And I tried to be nice about it, but they just wouldn’t let it go.” 

“I believe there were a few other choice words you offered,” Carlisle said.

Mia snuggled closer and pushed her sneaker through the mud again. “Yeah, well, I didn’t mean any of that.” 

“I believe you didn’t mean to say it in that way, but I know you well enough to know at least some of that was true,” he said.

“It’s just pointless, Dad,” she mumbled.

“What is?”

“Everything. All of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I may have an idea,” Carlisle said, “but I’d still like to hear it from you.”

He could prompt his daughter with open-ended questioning all day, had the sort of patience and genuine curiosity that would eventually bring them around to a point where Mia would give him a more complete answer, but they always played this song and dance in the beginning, always the vague, evasive answers on her part. It was something they’d taught her, how to answer without providing one, something which was often a help to them in many other aspects of their lives.

“You’ll just think it’s stupid,” she answered, pulling out of his hold to settle with her arms rested on her knees. She settled her head down on top of them, facing away from him.

Mia knew it wouldn’t sound as reasonable coming from her mouth as it seemed when it was nestled deep in her mind. How could she explain to him how pointless it all felt in the scheme of things? It wasn’t just about the baseball game. It wasn’t just about feeling as though every one of them held something back for her benefit, that she was holding them back, and the fact that she’d always be the weakest link, the interminable family liability.

“I won’t,” he answered, a hand moving down her back. “You know that.”

Mia shrugged, turning her head to watch the stream. Her father had never once made her feel stupid. Like Esme and Alice, the man didn’t have whatever was necessary to employ a condescending tone and for being the oldest vampire of them all, he was surprisingly in tune with and understanding of the human condition.

“I’ll never be as good as them,” Mia finally said, her eyes trained on the water.

“In what way?”

Mia took a deep breath, a part of her annoyed for having to explain, frustrated that Carlisle wanted her to tell him how it felt when the assignments she worked so hard on made their way to the fridge while the others got perfect scores on nearly everything without trying, and they didn’t even care. She had no desire to tell him that being celebrated by them felt forced because whatever she produced, whatever she achieved, it wasn't even worth being celebrated.

“I never win at anything, not really, and even if I do, it’s just because they’re going easy on me.”

“Because you’re human?”

Mia glanced at him and huffed. “And you’re all not.”

Carlisle frowned. “We have some additional skills at our disposal but—”

Mia rolled her eyes and groaned. “Dad."  

"Everyone has their own strengths, Mia.”

“And weaknesses,” she answered. “And that’s me. The family weakness. I’ll never be as strong or fast or smart or clever or well-read or anything.”

“We’ve had much more time than you have. Your brothers and sisters have had a few collective centuries more than you to study and—”

“Exactly,” Mia answered, thinking of the wall of graduation caps, the family joke she wasn’t a part of and would barely ever contribute to. “I’ll never catch up. Even if I’m fast, I’ll never be the fastest. I could be smart but I’ll never be as smart as any of you, never be as good at anything. May as well just give up now.”

Carlisle nodded as she spoke. He didn’t love her phrasing, and he certainly wasn’t comforted by the expression coming from his daughter’s mouth.

“I didn’t mean that exactly how it sounded,” Mia added after a few seconds’ pause. “I just mean it seems a little…futile?”

“Your siblings would love another chance at being a teenager and human.”

“Well if that’s true, they can have it. I’d gladly trade any of them. It’d be nice to be something other than an unexceptional burden for a change.”

“You’re not a burden,” he answered. “Not a weakness.”  

“Whatever you say,” she answered, turning back towards the water again. 

“And you know, your siblings were all exceptional before. The things they have now, they had in them before the change, too.”

Carlisle gave that notion a moment to settle but Mia didn’t respond, still staring out at the stream and the woods beyond it.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not really.”

“They didn’t all know what they were good at as humans. The transition helped some of them identify it, hone it, but there was always a natural predisposition. There always is.”

“Great and since I have no natural predisposition towards anything useful, I can someday be as boring and worthless as a vampire as I am as a human.”

Carlisle didn’t love discussing the prospect of his human child having a vampire life. Even if the possibility was always there, even if that had been the eventual plan since she joined their lives, the decree passed down from the Volturi, he still didn’t like discussing it.

“Do you truly believe that?”

Mia shrugged. She didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to believe she was merely ordinary or weak, but a part of her seemed determined to hold onto the notion. 

“Everyone is good at something,” he answered. “What are you good at?”

“Nothing,” she answered. “I’m not good at anything.”

“Nothing?” he repeated. “Now, I kno—”

“Not comparatively,” she answered. “I’m okay at some things, but I’m not as good as any of you.” 

“I don’t compare you to anyone else and neither should you,” Carlisle said. “Now, I could tell you what you’re good at, tell you all the wonderful things I see in you, but I don’t think you’re in a place to hear it. So you have to tell me— what’s something you’re good at? Don’t think about your brothers and sisters. Don’t think about the other kids at school. Just think about you.”

Mia glanced at him. “It’s not like that’s an easy question.”

“It’s not,” he answered. “People spend their whole lives trying to figure out the answer, trying to match that answer to another of life’s important questions. What makes you happy? The answers don’t have to be a perfect match, Mia,” he said. “They rarely ever are, and the answer to the second question is much more meaningful.”

Carlisle took the baseball from his pocket and slipped it into her hand. “If something makes you happy, it doesn’t much matter who wins, does it?”

Mia ran her thumb over the ball’s red stitching. “What if winning makes me happy?”

“Then I’d say you’re just as competitive as your brothers and sisters,” Carlisle answered. “But I would also say you shouldn’t give up on what makes you happy just because you don’t always win at it.”

“Are you trying to tell me I should play baseball?” 

Carlisle nudged her shoulder. “If you don’t play, we lose our secret weapon.”

Mia smirked. Her human weaknesses were at least good for something. She forced her family to dial things back, forced them to lean into things they were no longer very good at— moving slowly and tempering their strength. None of them pitched as well at the speed she needed them to pitch at. None of them hit as well at the speed she needed them to match, but it was good for them to practice at playing human, necessary to their survival, even. 

“I’m much better at being human than you all are,” Mia answered.

Carlisle laughed. “I would hope so.” 

“I keep you all on your toes.”

“You do,” he answered. “And you remind us every day what a beautiful thing it is to be human.”

--

Twilight Masterlist

[tev-the-random]

What it Ursa took her children with her? - Pt.1

So I was thinking about that idea I had the other day. And as no one could guide me to a fanfic on the matter, I thought I would try and expand on this idea a bit.

Right! So, if I were to write a full-length story – and I don’t know that I could. Unfortunately I don’t have a lot of time for that right now –, it would go as such:

 Just like in the original, Ozai dares ask his father to revoke Iroh’s birth right, so Firelord Azulon orders him to kill his own son as punishment. Literally what the fuck, both of you.

 And just like in the original, Ursa discovers Ozai’s intentions and makes a deal with him: in exchange for Zuko’s life, she’ll make an odourless, colourless poison for him to kill Firelord Azulon with. Additionally, Ozai demands Ursa to leave the Capital City and never show up again, to which she agrees on the condition that she can take her children with her.

And here’s where things will change: Ozai accepts these terms. There is no reason for him to keep Zuko, and although he can see potential in Azula as a tool for his needs, he can easily think of ways to replace her. If it means he can get rid of the threat Ursa presents (read “he’s scared shitless now that he knows she was a poison-making master this whole time”) and get the throne he wants, he doesn’t give a shit if he has to dispose of the children. And Ursa would be more than relieved to leave that hellish place anyway.

She hurriedly wakes up Zuko, takes a sleepy Azula in her arms and leaves through a secret passageway, as to not be spotted. Ozai watches from a distance as his wife disappears into the night with her children.

The next morning, Ozai puts up a whole act to his father about how he killed Zuko as ordered and how his wife, horrified by what he did, took his daughter and left. Azulon believes this and declares that the man has suffered enough of what he deserved, and that they are to wait for Iroh’s return as if nothing had happened.

(Yes, I do wholeheartedly believe Ozai is capable of fantastic acting abilities and menacing deceit when he really wants to.)

What about the whole thing with connecting Avatar Roku’s bloodline to their own in order to fulfil a great destiny or something? I’ll say Azulon would plan to eventually get Azula back in the picture. And that’s all I’ll say for now.

In the middle of the night, Ursa and her children take a boat to travel to her hometown, Hira’a.

While she goes into a spiral thinking about how her life got to that point, Zuko – who was barely processing anything that was happening – falls asleep by her side, whereas Azula starts to stir on her mother’s lap. She wakes up and silently looks around.

‘Where are we?’ She asks.

‘Azula,’ Ursa calls, snapping out of her thoughtful state. ‘Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep, sweetie.’

‘What’s happening?’

‘Go back to sleep,’ she repeats. ‘I’ll explain everything later.’

Azula doesn’t go back to sleep, instead pondering about this unusual situation.

Upon arrival in Hira’a, Ursa is concerned about finding them shelter. So, unlike the original, she doesn’t stop after discovering her parents died years ago. She searched for old friends, finding that most of them had left the town at that point. Eventually, she finds the old director of the local acting troupe, Grandma Guchi, who is alive and well, albeit retired.

The old lady is happy to see Ursa again, and even happier to take her in in what seems to be a very difficult time for the Fire Princess and her children.

Guchi breaks the news that Ikem disappeared into Forgetful Valley a long time ago. This isn’t compatible with Ozai’s story, for his assassins couldn’t possibly have found Ikem in Forgetful Valley, could they? Regardless, nobody ever saw the man again.

The moment is interrupted by the sound of Azula indiscreetly opening cabinets around the house.

‘Azula, be respectful of others’ homes,’ Ursa reprehends.

‘I don’t like this place,’ Azula comments, visibly confused by why they’re here, by the fact that – and she noticed – they had spent the past few hours practically begging for a place to stay and by the apparent lack of royal procedures. ‘When are we going home?’

She receives no response.

‘Mom?’ Zuko asks meekly. Part of him hadn’t spoken so far because he didn’t want to overwhelm his mother, who already looked so perturbed. But he, too, was getting preoccupied. ‘What is happening?’

Ursa very carefully explains the situation to them, trying to make it seem as non-terrifying for two kids as possible. So instead of going full “I gave your father the means to kill your grandfather so that you wouldn’t be brutally murdered in your sleep, now he’ll hunt us down if we even think of going back to the capital”, she says Ozai asked her to do something, and the only way to keep them safe after that was to leave the capital.

Azula believes this situation is temporary, and they’ll come back home in due time, even if her mother didn’t know when that was.

Zuko is… uncertain of what to think. He wonders, again and again, if what Azula had said the day before was true; was his father actually willing to kill him? What was it that his mother did? Why did their safety lie in leaving their home?

Ursa is unsure if they’ll stay in Hira’a, but for the time being, she considers finding herself a job there. Grandma Guchi suggests she goes back to working with the local theatre, as an actress or otherwise.

The ex-Fire Princess is then formally presented to the new director of the acting troupe, Noren.

Ursa restarts her theatre life as a part of the production crew.

Noren doesn’t make his true identity known right away, as he doesn’t want to overwhelm her. So he acts as if they just met, and Ursa doesn’t quite notice the overly fond looks he gives her.

He is absolutely delighted to meet Zuko and Azula.

As days go by, the siblings get increasingly… frustrated. This is all new to them. No more servants, no more training, no more studies, no more feeding turtleducks by the pond, no more palace, no more of their friends, no more Ozai… they now have chores to do – which they find a tad bit indignant at first –, but apart from that, life is pretty boring in this remote town of peasants, stuck in this old lady’s house, told to forget their royal identities and customs…

Little more than a week goes by following the trio’s arrival to Hira’a, and word gets around that Firelord Azulon passed away in his sleep, leaving the throne to his second son. As literally no other family member attends to the funeral or to the coronation, Firelord Ozai immediately spreads the idea that he is to be a strong ruler who doesn’t let himself get overwhelmed by emotion, unlike his brother. (Little do they know he probably doesn’t have any emotions at all.)

Ozai took a bit of his time before using the poison so that no one would connect his father’s death to his wife and children’s sudden disappearance. These were two separate and completely unrelated events, and Ozai holds ultimate responsibility for neither.

Azula and Zuko are obviously upset. One would think that after their grandfather’s death, the family ought to stay together.

Azula is the one to reassure her brother. If Azulon wanted Ozai to have the throne after all, it means he was pleased with young man; He probably thought Ozai went through with killing Zuko – ‘don’t you see, Zuzu? That’s why mom brought us here in the middle of nowhere: so that grandfather could see that dad is much stronger than uncle Iroh. But now that grandpa’s gone, it’s only a matter of time before dad sends for us.’ And although they both come to the conclusion that their father loved them, it was also implicit that he needed them. They were his heirs, after all.

But as several weeks go by and there is no sign of them leaving Hira’a anytime soon, Azula starts to get apprehensive. While Zuko kind of likes it here – of course he misses home, but the absence of that watchful eye telling him everything he did was worthless makes him feel a bit more patient –, she is utterly done with the place.

Other kids don’t want to play with her because she’s scary and demanding and burns down things on purpose. She doesn’t want to play with other kids because she considers them to be beneath her.

The first performance of this season’s play comes, and Ursa is glad to see things work out. But of course we have to ruin that, so moody Azula breaks into an argument with her mother. As patient as Ursa tries to be – despite the clever and sassy remarks, this is a child she’s arguing with –, she ends up letting out that they’ll never go back home.

This confirmation is the last straw for little Azula. She can be as precociously mature as it comes, there’s only so much a nine year-old child can take when her entire world crumbles down beneath her. So she runs away.

The girl is determined to return to the Fire Nation capital. But as it turns out, Hira’a is quite far away from Capital City. She can’t firebend her way there, she can’t demand her way there and her manipulation skills only take her so far. By the end of the day, she’s lost, she’s alone and she doesn’t quite know what to do.

Deep down, she’s terrified of the fact she can’t do anything; already at this early age, Azula internalized that she’s supposed to be the “fierce prodigy soldier princess” and forgets that she’s just a child.

Hours later, Noren finds her somewhere in the outskirts of town.

‘Azula! Thank goodness you’re ok, your mother was so worried about you!’

A moment of silence. ‘I want my dad,’ Azula murmurs, almost as if afraid anyone will hear her vulnerability.

Noren takes a second thinking about it, then sits beside her. ‘I know you miss your home and your dad,’ he says. ‘Life is probably very hard right now, and it’s unfair that you never asked for things to change so much. But you know you can count on your mother and your brother, right? They love you-‘

‘No, they don’t. They think I’m a pest.’

‘They don’t.’ Noren sighs before continuing, ‘I know you probably don’t want to hear it from me, but your mother is trying her best to protect you.’

‘I don’t need to be protected,’ Azula retorts. ‘I’m not weak.’

‘Someone wanting to protect you doesn’t make you weak. It makes you loved.’

‘Dad says the only way to be strong is to fend for yourself. Those who don’t have no place in this world.’

‘Maybe he was wrong?’

‘He’s the Firelord!’ She cries.

‘Well, he was supposed to be a father.’

Azula goes silent. After a minute, Noren moves, and the girl flinches – for a split second, she thought she was about to be attacked. But when she raises her eyes, she sees the man was merely offering his hand. ‘Let’s go get your mom,’ he says.

(Excuse me if I can’t help it, but I think Noren is just a Nice Person.)

It takes a little while for them to find Ursa – who was running around the town like crazy searching for Azula –, but when they do, the woman is dishevelled and so, so glad. ‘Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you? Oh, my dear baby, I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you! I was so worried!’

If somewhere inside her Azula actually believed Ursa didn’t care, she’s now just… strangely relieved to be in her mother’s arms.

Cut to sometime in the future, maybe a week or so later: Zuko is watching over Azula. He’s messing with some flowers, whiles she’s pensively looking at the sky.

‘Do you miss dad?’ She asks.

‘And uncle Iroh. And Lu Ten. And the turtleducks. And even your crazy friends-‘

‘Ugh, I just asked if you miss dad!’ Azula rolls her eyes.

‘Yeah…’

Silence.

‘I wish none of this ever happened,’ she comments.

‘You’d rather dad had killed me?’ Zuko asks disheartened.

‘Maybe, yeah!’ She stares at him for a few seconds, then sighs. ‘No.’

‘If it makes you feel better, here’s what I think dad would say:’ he clears his throat and starts making an impression of Ozai, ‘you have to fight for your honour! The children of the Firelord cannot be intimidated by weird situations, so always hold your head high! Now be more like Azula, Zuko.’

The two of them laugh. ‘Well, a princess has to maintain her dignity no matter what,’ Azula admits. ‘But I don’t think he would be proud of us meddling with dirty peasants.’

‘Call it tactical espionage,’ Zuko comments, and places his newly finished flower crown on his sister’s head ‘O, princess of the Flower Nation!’

‘Since when do you know how to do this girly stuff?’ The girl chuckles, taking the ornament from her head.

‘Mom taught me. Do you want me to teach it to you? It’s not hard.’

‘I’m a brave warrior, I don’t do this silly stuff!’ Azula says and proceeds to set the flowers on fire, because that’s still Azula.

Zuko has half a mind to snap at her for burning down his hard work, but he puts on a smug smile instead. ‘Ok. At least that’s something I can do that you can’t.’

She pouts at him. ‘Fine. But I won’t learn from anyone can’t even fight properly. So you better learn some actual firebending before giving me any lessons!’

This is only one scene, but please give me more of Zuko and Azula as children getting to close that gap in their relationship that was being formed by their parents. Quality Sibling Time, if you may.

Meanwhile, Ursa and Noren are overviewing the preparations for the last performance of the season. They chat idly, Ursa commenting on how Love Amongst the Dragons used to be her favourite play.

Basically, Noren takes that cue and says something awfully suspicious, Ursa suspiciously suspects and he ends up telling her that he’s actually Ikem. Yes, with the whole “When we were six you kicked me in the stomach and pushed my face into the dirt. When we were twenty-one, you shattered my heart.” Because I love that line. Heartfelt emotions when she realises the love of her life was alive all along.

Somewhere else: a few months go by and Iroh is finally back from Ba Sing Se. Things in his home are definitely different: his son, his father and (supposedly) his nephew are dead, his sister-in-law and his niece are missing and the throne that was meant for him has been passed to his brother, who rules as a ruthless Firelord and only plans to aggravate the war.

A changed man, Iroh sees the impacts of war very differently. A part of him wants to leave the palace behind and find peace; another part tells him that his brother has literally no one else left. So he vows to stay, not only because he takes pity on Ozai, but also because he is aware that, if left unchecked, the new Firelord would fuck things up even further.

Yes, Iroh becomes the Firelord’s advisor. No, Ozai doesn’t listen to half of what he says.

Back in Hira’a, Ursa is slowly getting to convince her kids that this is their home now. Slowly, very, very slowly.

The siblings are becoming closer, as seen by the fact that Azula has willingly been helping Zuko become a better firebender – both of them see firebending as less of a competition now that it isn’t being held against them anymore. But it’s still no common kids’ play. Don’t tell me they don’t “play” Agni Kai whenever they’re bored – and Zuko is willingly spending time with her and teaching her nice, non-destructive things.

I like to think that Hira’a isn’t a place where many firebenders would like to live, considering the jungle just around the corner and the fact that all houses seem very flammable. But I also like to think that there are two local firebenders, one of which is more erratic than the kids and another who is fairly well-trained, but refuses to teach anything to the Firelord’s children. Of course, eventually he cracks and teaches them one thing or another because he can’t bear to leave these demons to their own devices.

Ursa is having some Quality Time with Azula. Although the girl has the innate ability to say some disturbing things, Ursa finds herself to be more patient as time goes by. Now imagine the two of them by a riverbank as the mother is telling stories that have nothing to do with the royal life; imagine Azula excited to show this new firebending trick she learned and performing complicated yet beautiful moves; imagine the Quality Time.

The kids are being home-schooled by Ursa. And Grandma Guchi. And any willing member of the acting troupe. And any local elder and/or master. Truly, they’re getting some street smarts around the here.

Cue to Azula getting to discover something called “childhood”.

Cue to Zuko getting to be appreciated as a human being and loved by people around him.

So one day Ursa and Noren decide to finally get married – as they planned to do over eleven years ago.

Of course, this is a little disheartening to the kids. Ursa doesn’t quite know how to explain Ozai’s Abusive Husband Shenanigans, but they all know Noren is such a nice person and he’s made it pretty clear that he does not intend on trying to be their father – even though he unintentionally acts like a father every now and again. So the kids are sort of in denial for a while.

Zuko is a little afraid the prolonged company will drive Noren to take over his life and start acting cruel/mistreating him. The poor boy is just so used to the table being ruled over by Ozai that he expects Noren to snap any minute, so it feels strange when all the meals together are so… peaceful?

Azula sees all this as some sort of act. She never quite gives up on the idea that Ozai will come around any day now. Until fateful news come around…

(Cliffhanger, dun dun dun!)

(If you can even call it that)

Ok, so… This got kind of long. Way longer than I expected it to get.

My ideas for what happens next are a bit fuzzy – as in: they’re less structured and more like… just loose ideas –, but I still have a lot to talk about, so I’ll split this into a two-parter and get back to you in a bit.

[anime-alyssa]

my ghost - dabi x hawks

Not a day passed by where Keigo Takami didn’t think of Toya Todoroki - his best friend that he fell in love with. One day, he swears he’s seeing a ghost - but it's not a ghost at all. 

i posted this on ao3 last night but forgot to cross post here cause it was late - my bad. 

smut below the cut - if you enjoyed consider a lil tippy tip

He remembered it like it was yesterday. 

The teacher coming in with a somber look on her face, eyes slightly glazed over as she told his class that one of their classmates had passed away. She had looked to Keigo sympathetically as he sat in shock - the news not quite hitting him until much later in the day, when the P.E teacher found him in the locker room crying.

Not a day passed when Keigo Takami didn’t think of Toya Todoroki - his best friend that he fell in love with. At the time of his death they were only teenagers, new to the idea of love and romance and not even sure what they liked. As the years went on and more people tried to advance on him, Keigo couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to Toya - making him realize that he was in love with his deceased best friend.

The publicists at his agency thought it would be best if he kept his sexuality a secret. Part of his attraction as Hawks was his looks, he knew that - imagine how much his attractiveness as a hero would go down if society found out he was gay. He always fought with them and told them that they could shove it - but he knew that they were right. There would always be one asshole who would try to tank him for it. 

Everything he did to become the number two hero, he had done with Toya in mind. They had always said they would become heroes together, run their own agency to protect the world from villains. But now here he was, standing on the stage next to the new number one, the person who could no doubtedly be blamed for the death of his best friend - Endeavor. 

Toya hadn’t said much to Keigo about his father - but the scars and bruises were enough to prove to him that the hero wasn’t all he was cracked up to be. But even now, what could he do about it? He had to just smile and put on the show for the cameras - something he was good at. He had been hiding his sexuality all these years, he could pretend to like Endeavor. 

Keigo couldn’t get out of there fast enough - answering the absolute bare minimum of questions that would get the publicists off his back before flying out to his patrol post. The sun was setting by now - the ranking announcement taking way longer than it should have. As much as he wanted to fly back to his penthouse and drink away some of his feelings, he had a job to do - the job that he and Toya always said they’d do together. He wondered how much things would be different if Toya was here - would they be heroes together? Would they be together? Keigo ached to know, even though he would never find out. 

Shouts of commotion from below got his attention as he sighed, standing up and flying downwards. There was a group of thugs confronting a singular villain - trying to go after him. One of them looked up wide eyed, dropping his weapon and dashing away. 

“Oh shit - it’s Hawks!” With a snap of his fingers, Keigo let his feathers fly free, injuring the thugs and letting them fall to the ground. Hawks pressed the police button on his costume to alert the police of the incident before turning his attention to the villain. He landed himself in the middle of them before turning around to face the villain that was causing all the trouble in the first place. 

“Well, well - if it isn’t the number two hero himself. Hawks, right?” he asked. Keigo turned around and his eyes grew wide, meeting the gaze of the villain. No, it can’t be - “What’s the matter, number two? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” the patch work cremator said with a smirk. Keigo knew the blue of those eyes anywhere - the snarky attitude, that face, despite all the staples and burns - he dreamt about it for years. Police sirens started to get closer and closer to the duo before he sighed. “Good talk. I’m gonna take my leave now - thanks for disposing of these worthless thugs for me. Using my quirk is a real pain.” with that, he turned on his heel and started walking away. 

“Toya!” Keigo shouted before he could stop himself. He saw the man stop for the briefest of seconds, turning back towards him. Keigo felt his breath get stuck in his throat - it couldn’t be him, could it? Icy blue eyes locked back on his, a small smile turning his cheeks upwards. 

It was him.

“The name is Dabi now, Keigo. I’ll be seeing you real soon.” Dabi rose his hand and within seconds, Keigo was up in the air avoiding the blue flames. The screams of the captured thugs echoed off the walls as the police arrived on the scene, calling in for back up. By the time some of the smoke and flames cleared, there was absolutely no sign of him. 

Toya’s alive. After all this time, Toya’s alive - 

“Hawks, thank you for calling this in. Where did the flames come from?” a police officer asked the number two. Snapping out of his trance, Keigo turned around to face the police officers, seeing the medical team retrieving the charred bodies of the thugs behind them. With a sigh, he answered.

“Dabi, from the League. Unfortunately, he got away this time. Flames were too quick.” He said back. The police officers looked at him with unease - Hawks was the quickest one around, too fast for his own good, but they didn’t question his answer. For whatever reason, today Hawks wasn’t quick enough to get Dabi. 

After cooperating with the police, he decided he was done for the day. He sent his sidekicks out to patrol some areas while he flew back to his penthouse, landing on the balcony outside the living room and strolling in. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it over a chair before walking over to his bar and pouring himself a drink. 

Keigo had spent the better part of his life trying to deal with Toya being gone - trying to deal with being in love with him - but he had been alive all along? To make matters worse - he was with the League? What the hell had actually happened that night? To his knowledge, Toya had gone up to the mountains to practice using his quirk, and just never came back - burning to death. There hadn’t even been a body found - so how in the hell was he here now?

“You should really have better security up here. Anyone could just… walk in.” Keigo’s feathers acted quicker than he did, several flying out and landing just inches before Dabi’s - Toya’s body. He let out a laugh as Keigo turned around to meet his gaze.

“How?” Keigo asked, voice cracking. He inwardly cringed at himself - if only the public could see him now. Hawks, the number two hero, a bloody mess because his best friend and love was back from the dead. 

“I lived. Clearly - but look at you! Number two hero, all buddy-buddy with Endeavor today. It made me sick.” Dabi said, walking over to Keigo and helping himself to his own drink at the bar. Keigo let out a snort as he refilled his own cup. 

“I meant how did you live. See your attitude is still the same.” Keigo said back to him, turning around to face him sideways. 

“Well, God didn’t want me and Hell didn’t either, so here I am.” Dabi retorted, drinking while eyeing the number two.  “So? Are you now best of buds with dear ‘ol dad?” he asked him. 

“I’d rather tell him to go kick rocks - but unfortunately, I need to pretend to like him. For the public’s sake.” Keigo admitted to Dabi, who hummed in acknowledgment. He watched the scar tissue on his neck bulge as he drank, clearing his throat as he put the glass down after drinking. 

“Yeah, that’d look real fuckin’ bad, right? I hear you’re great at pretending, anyway. If you can pretend to be straight, then I guess you can pretend to like my shithead dad.” Keigo almost spat out his drink at the comment, earning a raised eyebrow from the villain. “Something I said, Kei?” he asked, the two of them putting their glasses down and now looking at each other. 

“How did you find that out?” Keigo asked through gritted teeth. 

“Come on, like it wasn’t already obvious when we were teenagers. Every stupid 13 year old girl in our class threw themselves at you and you could have given a shit.” Dabi said to him smuggly, taking a step closer to the winged hero. “You know, back then - I knew I was too, you know. At first, it was going to just be spite to my old man - imagine him knowing his oldest son was not only a failed experiment, but also gay.” he said with a chuckle. 

“Oh really? Just spite?” Keigo asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Well at first - until after I ‘died’, when I started watching you from the shadows. Saw how bent out of shape you were, really, you were a mess. It actually hurt my heart a little, not gonna lie.” Dabi was walking closer and closer to Keigo slowly but surely, almost on top of him. Keigo made no sign that he was going to move, or was displeased, so he kept going. 

“Huh, so you still have a heart.” he said back with a smirk. Keigo tried to mask how Dabi’s close proximity was affecting him - his heart racing a mile a minute. “What do I have to do with this little story of yours? What, took one look at me and realized you liked men more?” he asked, keeping up the smirk. 

“And if I did? What would you do then?” he asked, voice gravelly as their chests were nearly touching. He could feel the heat coming off of him - body warm from his quirk, that’s how close Dabi was to Keigo. The tension could be cut with a knife, the air thick with it and surrounding the two men. 

“I’d tell you that you were my reason too.” Keigo said honestly, quietly. 

“Well, ain’t that a relief.” Dabi said back to him. Without a second thought, Keigo grabbed Dabi by the shoulders and closed the gap between them, the villain letting out a grunt as their lips met each other. Keigo’s hand went around the back of Dabi’s neck, pushing their mouths impossibly closer together as Dabi’s went around Keigo’s back to crash their bodies together. They both moaned into the mouth of the other as their hips met, each of their bulges harshly pushing against the other. “Where the fuck’s the bedroom, Kei?” Dabi hissed out in Keigo’s mouth. 

“Hold on to me.” Keigo said back, using both his hands to slightly lift Dabi off the ground and fly across the penthouse and into the bedroom. Their lips met once more after Dabi’s back hit the mattress, Keigo moaning as Dabi’s hips bucked upwards to meet his. Dabi used all the force in his body to turn Keigo over, flipping him on his back and panting for breath. His pupils were blown out, barely any blue left to his eyes as they stared down at Keigo’s, in a similar state. 

“Looks like you have a problem there, number two.” Dabi said, voice low and deep as his hand cupped the tent in Keigo’s pants. He let out a pitiful moan as the villain chuckled above him. “Allow me.” 

With that, Dabi unbuckled Keigo’s belt and started to unzip his pants. Once he had those shrugged down enough, his hand went under the waistband of Keigo’s boxers and pulled out his hard cock. Keigo let out a moan as he squeezed it gently, thumb gliding over the slit at the head and spreading the precum that had leaked out. Keigo tried to keep his eyes on Dabi, before they rolled back into his head as the villain’s tongue licked up the underside of his shaft. 

“Fuck…” Keigo moaned, feeling Dabi’s smirk as he took his cock in his mouth. Warmth encased his member as Dabi began to suck his cock, taking as much of his lengthy member into his mouth as he could before his staples started to pain him. What he couldn’t fit in his mouth he wrapped a hand around, starting to pump him. His tongue flicked over Keigo’s head with every bob as his hand pumped him and let out gentle squeezes to his balls, sending jolts of pleasure up his body. Every muscle in Keigo’s body simultaneously tensed up as he felt his cock harden more in Dabi’s mouth. “T - Toya - ” he stuttered as he started to twitch in Dabi’s mouth. 

“Cum, Keigo.” the villain said from below. Keigo let out a guttural moan as he felt himself release inside of Dabi’s mouth. The villain swallowed all of it as Keigo panted and moaned his way through his release, death gripping onto the sheets below him as he felt himself relax. When Dabi stood back up, he shrugged his jacket off and let it fall to the floor, bringing his lips back up to meet Keigo’s. They kissed with a sense of urgency, Dabi’s rock hard erection pressing into Keigo’s still hard cock. “Need you.” Dabi panted as their lips parted, the two men pulling each other’s shirts over their heads. 

“Then come and get me.” Keigo said back as he now tried to unbuckle Dabi’s belt, managing to get it completely undone and pushing his pants down and off. Dabi let out a moan at the actions as he pulled Keigo’s pants the rest of the way off as well and shoved him backward against the mattress once more. Their lips met again as the two were now naked, bodies pressed together and sweating as Keigo felt Dabi’s cock prod at his hole. Dabi guided himself in, pressing into Keigo gently as the latter hissed at the sensation. 

“Relax, Kei - fuck…” Dabi breathed as he continued to settle in. Dabi was losing himself in the feeling - Keigo was so deliciously tight around him and he had been waiting for so long to finally be able to fuck him right. He was inserting himself slowly, savoring the moment as he finally bottomed out.

“I’m not made of glass Toya, so how about you start - fucking shit - ” Keigo was cut short as Dabi started to thrust, a moan falling off his lips as the villain’s pace started out quick and deep. Dabi let out a chuckle as he pounded into him.

“What were you saying?” he asked, a moan of his own falling out of his mouth as Keigo squeezed down on him. “Shit Kei - you do that again and I’ll - ” Dabi moaned again as he felt himself harden inside Keigo, the other man’s cock twitching between their bodies. Keigo was still sensitive from his last orgasm, a moaning and desperate mess for the man above him. Dabi’s pace increased once more as he thrust into Keigo so deeply the hero was seeing stars above him, feeling his second orgasm starting to come up and almost at the bursting point. 

“Toya - I’m gonna - gonna cum - ” Keigo said. Dabi let out a loud moan as his hips kept slapping against Keigo’s ass, the sound of his name coming off the hero’s lips like music to his ears. Dabi’s cock started to twitch inside him and he knew that he was not far behind.

“Cum - cum with me, Kei - fuck!” Dabi cursed, bringing his lips down to meet Keigo’s. Keigo let out a loud moan into the villain’s mouth as he came over his stomach, Dabi moaning back as his hips stuttered into Keigo once more before releasing inside him. They moaned into each other as their releases continued, eventually kissing as Dabi slipped out of Keigo. After a few minutes, they laid next to each other in the bed, Keigo finally speaking up to cut the silence. 

“So, now you gonna disappear on me until you need a fuck again?” he asked the villain. Dabi scoffed as he rolled to face him, eyes narrowing. 

“You want the world to know you just fucked a villain?” Dabi asked back. Keigo humed in agreement as Dabi pressed a kiss to his lips again. He did have a point - obviously, no one could know. 

But even if it was just for a night, for that moment, everything felt… right to Keigo. 

[tiredofexistingsblog]

The one where I lose my innocence

As a teen, I really thought my depression was bad. I dealt with a lot of stuff from a narcissistic- emotionally and physically abusive mother to a passive-aggressive father who skipped out the moment they got divorced. After they divorced my mother became an alcoholic. Growing up I was infatuated by my mother even though she abused me... I just felt like that's what mothers were supposed to do if they really loved their kids. The abuse was normal to me... I was the ocean and she was the moon. Constantly pushing and pulling. Each day was like Christmas morning you never knew what each day carried when you woke up, was she going to snap if I was sad, happy, upset, tired, etc. Was the volcano going to explode today and unleash everything that has been suppressed inside? I always thought these behaviors were normal from a loving parent. Why would a parent who always told you they loved you and how special you are in the same moment tell you how worthless you are unless they really loved you? I see now my mom is the collection of broken pieces from an era fixed on hating mental illness and creating generational trauma. But the cycle did not end with my mom. She made sure of that. I remember one time, a fight so bad that she gave me a bloody nose. I finally built up the courage to call the cops (after being told our whole life that if I or my siblings called the police we would get taken away and put in a shitty system of foster care where our potential foster parents would abuse me and hurt me and that no one could love us like she did) when the cops showed up they didn't ask what my mother had done or if I was okay, they gave me one look and told me that I should stop doing whatever it is that made my mother so angry... if only they knew that being too happy sometimes made her angry.

I never truly have understood the woman I call mom, she has always been like a tidepool of emotions, stagnant until the tides come in again and violently crash against the rocks and the beach. It's hard to understand someone who doesn't even understand themselves. It's hard to hate someone who has convinced you that it wouldn't be this way if you just behaved and listened... it's hard to not believe someone when they make you feel disposable over and over again.

She always blamed us for whatever mood she was in that day. Especially if that mood was a tornado, minutes from destroying everything in its path.

It wasn't until I was about twenty when I was shopping for birthday cards for my mom did I realize, she wasn't what all these cards claimed mothers were supposed to be. "to the woman encourage,... to the mother who gave unconditional love,... to the person in my life who I could always count on..." none of these described the mom I had. I ended up leaving the store without a card.

She wasn't the mother I wanted but the mother I had... for years I remember my mom would always say that all that she did to and for us, made us stronger in the end. But this is not true, because my peers who were allowed to enjoy their childhoods without pain and suffering are a lot stronger and more advanced than I am. While they were enjoying their childhood innocence. Mine was ripped from me.

I always resented my dad for leaving, without looking back. But as I've gotten older I have some understanding of why he would leave a situation like that. But my parents were very toxic to each other.

Between my two parents raising 6 children, it was nearly impossible for both of them to work and/or afford childcare. So my mom was a stay-at-home mom... well in some ways. When they divorced my mom divorced most of my siblings chose to live with my mom, and even if we didn't she still would have fought for us in court. Because she had no money we were forced to be homeless. I had my 11th or 12th birthday in a homeless shelter. My mom slowly got back on her feet and moved into a low-income apartment complex. She decided to go back to school and work really hard.

We started to feel like a normal family, abuse aside. My mom even expressed how she wanted to do more family stuff. So every Friday night we did pizza and movie nights. Papa Murphy's took ebt and then we would rent a couple movies from red box. Because of this, I was so proud of her and the infatuation only grew stronger. Until she started drinking.

It started when she decided to take wine tasting classes at her college... A glass of wine here and there became whole bottles... became mixed drinks... became straight shots... became whole bottles of vodka. She loved her wine tasting classes so much she decided to take a couple more quarters. She started "staying late" after class and then would show up at late hours of the night with her friends she had met at a bar (female friends) so they could drink more at her place... where her kids were... where they had to be up early for school. Friday night pizza and movies became Friday night burnt pizza and no movie because she forgot or spent the money on alcohol.

To be continued....

[singingisfun]

Changing Tides - Chapter 25

link to cover art by @otpapprovedbythegods

And here’s a link to an adorable pic of Dopey as a pirate by @clockadile

ff.net: From the beginning - Current Chapter

AO3:  From the beginning - Current Chapter

The Spark and The Flame

She doesn’t want to let him go and she clings to him with all her might, but the adrenaline is fading and her arms are starting to protest the iron grip, so she eases it and runs her hand back to his neck, letting it rest over the spot she’d healed and concentrating on the pulse she can feel pounding beneath it.

He’s alive.  

His lips glance her temple, soft and reverent and she draws a slow breath.

He’s alive and he’s holding her.  He’s breathing and warm and he’s going to stay that way.

She can hear the others murmuring behind her, the hushed whispers from her father and the rest as they all try to come to terms with the fact that she’s just destroyed their best chance at defeating Regina.  She can see the broken sword over Killian’s shoulder, the hilt on the ground and the edge of the other half peeking out from the top of the stone.  Her eyes then move to the copper case where the Spark of Prometheus resided for so many years – the only spark known to man capable of producing a flame strong enough to forge the sword.  It’s empty, of course, a worthless relic lying on the edge of the round table.  

What has she done?

Guilt flashes through her for an instant before she’s clinging to Killian again, the force of her grip drawing a surprised grunt from him.  

She did what she had to.  And she knows it was the right thing.  Even the sword had agreed with her.  She’d felt the weapon humming while she’d yanked at the handle, an encouraging resonance that had settled somewhere in her chest just before a rush of strength came from nowhere and the blade snapped.

They’ll find another way. There must be another way to defeat the Evil Queen.  And with Killian at her side, she knows that together, they’ll find it.

Slowly, the words being murmured a few feet away start to filter through the haze of her thoughts. They’re talking about mobilizing Katherine’s army, sending for she and Frederick, and Elsa and Anna, and the rest of their allies.  They need to band together now.  They need to have every weapon and power available at their disposal when Regina makes her move.  And it won’t be long until she does.  By now, she’ll know that Merlin has no magic.  She’ll think both he and Killian are dead.  There will never be a better time for her to attack than this moment.

The thought no sooner enters her mind before the doors burst off their hinges and a great gust of wind blows through the room.  Turning, she sees both the Evil Queen and King Arthur on the threshold, the pair flanked by a garrison of black knights.

 K&EK&EK&E

“Sorry, I’m late,” Regina purrs as she strides into the room.  “My invitation was only just now delivered.  And by King Arthur himself.”

Killian vaults to his feet, pulling Emma up with him even as the hiss of swords being drawn fills the air. Without hesitation, he steps to the middle of the room, raising his weapon in front of him.  

The Evil Queen stops dead in her tracks when she sees him, her expression turning from triumphant to confused to furious in rapid succession.  Swinging on Arthur, she shouts, “You said he and the wizard were dead!  You LIED to me!

“They were – they should be,” the king stutters.  “I cut them both with Excalibur… I – ”  his eyes dart around the room.  “Look! The sword is broken again!”

Regina follows his gaze, shock registering on her features just before they slide into triumphant.  She turns to Emma.  “You destroyed the only weapon capable of defeating me to save your pirate?  You foolish child!”  

Regina produces a fire ball and goes to throw it but before she can Emma extends her arm and shoots a stream of magic that whizzes across the room and collides with the Evil Queen’s middle.  It sends her soaring back where she crashes into her knights, knocking several to the floor along with her.  When she raises her head, he can see the surprise at how powerful Emma’s magic has become.

“Perhaps I don’t need a weapon,” Emma replies.

The taunt makes the queen’s eyes darken before she turns to her men.

“Well, what are you waiting for!” she shouts while struggling to stand.  “Get them!”

The knights immediately snap to attention and charge, dozens of them rushing into the room and fanning out in every direction.

They’re outnumbered by a factor of ten and Killian hears Lance’s shout for reinforcements but Regina motions the doors shut, adding a barrier to them before any of the men make it through. Bracing himself, Killian raises his sword to take on the first line just as Emma steps up next to him and waves her arm at the throng, blowing most of the closest group back into the men behind them. She immediately pivots and does the same to the knights on their right, then pivots again to send the next bunch sailing.  It helps but there are too many for her to fend off all of them and Killian lunges for the first one who gets through.  He blocks the knight’s swing with his hook and plunges his sword into his neck.  A flash of purple magic shoots past him as the man slips from the end of his sword to the ground, but he doesn’t have time to look before the next knight is on him.  He aims low, slashing at the legs of his attacker, then immediately ducks as another leaps over his fallen comrade.  He straightens just in time to block a blade that swings perilously close to his throat.  Before he can return the attack, his opponent is on him, his momentum sending both of them to the floor.  They land in heap of limbs and weapons, one of which slices against his right arm. He ignores the pain, wrenching his left arm from where it’s caught beneath his rival’s side and twisting his wrist to make sure his hook slices through flesh as he frees it.  A grunt and a shove and the man is off him, putting enough space between them to finish him off with his sword.  Not wasting another glance, he springs to his feet, whipping around in an effort to locate Emma.  

He catches one glimpse of her thrusting her hand forward to send a white streak of power across the room before his view is blocked, a near wall of armor coming right for him. There are at least a dozen of them and he swipes his sword in a quick, desperate arc that he only prays will catch one or two.  And it does – but with the number descending, it doesn’t help much.  Still, he plants his feet in a wide stance, meeting the first sword with venom, the second with determination and the third with rage.

He’s surprised when one falls without his aid, even more so when the man’s eyes glow purple the instant before they dull, but he just keeps fighting.

 K&EK&EK&E

Emma sees the knight step into the path of Regina’s magic and nearly cries with relief.  The Evil Queen seems more determined to hurt Killian than herself and nearly all of Emma’s energy so far has been in an effort to protect him and the rest of their friends rather than make attacks of her own.

But she’s determined to keep everyone alive.  Regina will not claim one more innocent life in this war. So Emma bides her time, using her magic to decrease the black knight threat and deflect Regina’s magic rather than go on the offensive with the Evil Queen.  

With a wave of her arm, she throws one of the knights sailing.  With a flick of her wrist, she disarms another.  Then she spins on the spot and tosses a shield into the path of Regina’s magic.  

Her eyes meet Regina’s from across the room and, with a deliberate twist of her wrist, she angles the shield to bounce the magic directly back along its path.  It’s a satisfying sight to see the Evil Queen dive to the ground to keep from getting hit.  

Taking advantage of Regina’s momentary distraction, Emma pushes a burst of power at the doors, trying to allow the reinforcements entry but the spell Regina cast must be very powerful and her magic has no effect.

“She must have used blood magic to seal the doors,” Merlin shouts.  “They won’t open as long as blood runs through her veins.”

Dammit!  Emma thinks.  Looks like they’re on their own.

Rather than lament over that fact, though, she waves away the knight currently engaged with Ruby and turns her attention back to the Evil Queen.

Regina has regained her feet, a fireball forming in her hand that she immediately throws once again in Killian’s direction.  Emma deflects it easily with a flick of her fingers, redirecting it into a black knight nearby.

They continue like that for a time, Emma redirecting and diverting Regina’s attacks and using them to dwindle the number of black knights.  In the meantime, Emma makes mental notes of where all her friends are in the room, trying to help them when they become too outnumbered.  

Lancelot and Arthur are locked in a vicious battle, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the chaos and it appears that no one else is approaching them.  Emma can only assume it’s because Arthur had made it known that he wanted the legendary knight to himself.  Jeff and Patricia are lined up back to back, swiping their swords with expertise and Ruby and Merlin are doing the same.  Killian is fighting alone and so is her father but Emma sees her dad maneuvering closer.  She doesn’t see Dopey or Grace, so she assumes Dopey has the child hidden away somewhere and is acting as a guard.  But, no, that’s not it because from the corner of her eye, she sees Dopey stealthily weaving through some fallen chairs, using his lack of height to sneak up on a trio of knights who are pursuing her father.  

It’s just then that the shrill scream of a child rents the air and Emma twists on the spot to see several knights yanking chairs from the round table, one knight peering under it where Grace had apparently been hiding.  In a frozen moment of clarity, Emma realizes no one is close enough to protect the child. Without regret, she turns her back completely on the Evil Queen and throws a whip of magic in their direction, then fists her hand and yanks the one closest to Grace away.  

With the little girl as safe as she can make her for the moment, she pivots back to Regina just in time to see a stream of purple light soar past, heading right for Killian.  

K&EK&EK&E

Killian’s heart is pounding in his chest, instinct and adrenaline guiding his sword.  He’s not sure how he manages to hold them off.  He can’t find openings to do mortal damage but he’s able to block the worst of the swings, picking and choosing which sword will either incapacitate or kill him.  

A shout of rage rings out and then he feels a presence behind him – not another enemy, but the solid feeling of an ally covering his back.  It’s a relief to say the least because with one side guarded, he can now fight back rather than just deflect and he does so immediately, cutting up through two blades and stepping forward to plunge his sword into the gap on the side of one of his enemy’s breastplates.  Without hesitation, he turns to another, taking out his leg and twisting the man’s sword away with his hook.  

A knight falls to the floor on his left, a fatal gash spurting blood from his neck that his partner must have landed, then another falls to his right, his armor clashing loudly into one of the men Killian had previously defeated.  

The volume in the room is deafening, shouts of exertion and screams of pain ricocheting off the vaulted ceiling and echoing forcefully in his ears.  He tries once again to find Emma but doesn’t get enough time to locate her before another sword appears in his vision.  Reflexively, he raises his hook to deflect it, using the momentum to direct it toward another knight approaching from his left.  When it pierces flesh, Killian spins on the spot, kicking out and landing a hard blow to its owner’s gut.  The man stumbles back while the other collapses and Killian slices his blade up, tearing through the arm wielding the weapon.

He hears Grace’s scream and he frantically surveys the room.  Just as he locates her, one of the knights trying to reach under the table is yanked away as though by an invisible hand.  The next thing he knows, Emma’s heart-wrenching cry fills the air and he turns his head just in time to see the stream of purple magic coming right at him.  It’s already too close for him to dodge it, but his partner – King David – must have seen it sooner and he’s already moving in front of him to take the hit.  The king is quick, but not quick enough and the magic smacks into them both, its force enough to lift and fling them hard into the stone wall several yards away.  Killian’s head hits first, a sharp pain that would have been bad enough without getting sandwiched between the wall and David’s full weight, but the combination has him seeing stars, the awful thud of skull meeting stone the last thing he registers before everything goes black.  

K&EK&EK&E

Emma emits a bellow of rage when she sees Killian slump against the wall, spinning back to the smirking queen and letting loose a blast of magic so powerful that it nearly burns her palms as it releases.  

Regina stumbles when the magic collides with her own but she manages to deflect it, sending it sailing into the rafters.  With eyes gleaming in victory, she smiles from across the room.  “So you’ve learned a thing or two,” she taunts, “But while I’m sure Merlin is a capable teacher, he’s got nothing on Rumpelstiltskin.”

Keep her talking, keep her distracted, Emma thinks to herself as the two of them begin circling one another, both with their hands raised and at the ready.  

“And just what did you learn from Rumpelstiltskin that is so valuable?”

The first chance she gets, her eyes flick to Killian.  He’s alive. She knows that much.  His heartbeat is still filling her senses, the steady beat thrumming in her veins.  He may not be moving, but he’s alive and their magic hasn’t so much as wavered in its strength.  

“A great many things,” the Evil Queen replies, shooting a quick stream of magic into Emma’s path.

Emma feints away to avoid being hit and then resumes circling.  

“Would you like to know the most important lesson he taught me, princess?” Regina asks with false amiability.

“How to cover your gray hair?”

Regina chuckles. “No, although that has come in handy.”

Another glance to Killian shows him beginning to rouse.  

“What then?” Emma asks.

Regina stops moving, tilting her head in Killian’s direction and Emma sees her intent.  “Love is weakness.”

With a lightening fast fling of her arm, Regina sends a ball of power toward Killian in the same instant Emma throws a shield.  Regina’s magic hits it but rather than deflecting back at Regina as Emma had intended, it bounces off in a completely different direction, striking against the stone where the blade of Excalibur is still sheathed.

The stone shatters behind Regina, the blade landing next to the hilt and Emma sees the red jewel in the handle begin to glow brightly.  Regina doesn’t notice, but Emma does and something blossoms in her chest.  

A shout of frustration draws her attention back to Regina just as she turns the full force of her magic on Emma.  Emma raises her hands as the stream of purple light approaches, shooting her own magic out to meet it halfway.  The result is a straight stream of magic between them, half purple and half white.

A roar of sound and heavy winds fill the room, whirling around the walls like a hurricane.  Emma tries to keep her concentration on pushing Regina’s magic back.  She tries to gain ground but there’s something… something prickling at her senses. She ignores it at first, too determined to increase her advantage in the light battle to think of anything else.  

But it’s… persistent. And it’s growing.  A hum that vibrates in her blood.  And with a quick flash of recognition, it hits her.  It’s the same hum she felt when she and Killian reunited the blades.  That mixture of serenity and violence, the whip of power that swamped over her.  

And, suddenly it’s clear.

And now she knows what needs to be done.

K&EK&EK&E

Killian groans and rolls over, his head spinning so badly that he nearly passes back out from just that small movement.  Violent winds howl around him, forcing him to squint his eyes when he finally manages to open them.  The first thing he sees is David lying next to him, his face planted into the floor and blood dripping from his mouth.  He gives him a quick shake and is relieved to hear David groan in response.  

Lifting his head, he searches for Emma.  He finds her and Regina in the center of the room, their magic forming a violently pulsing line between them.  It mesmerizes him for a moment, the epic battle that had been foretold so long ago now filling his vision.  Regina is darkness in its most terrifying form, her black dress flapping in the heavy winds while a sinister, purple light shoots from her hands.  Emma though…  Emma is pure light, and she’s…  beautiful.  It’s an awe-inspiring sight, her golden hair appearing almost white in the glow of magic surrounding her.  It’s nearly blinding.  She’s nearly blinding.  But the most beautiful thing about her is her strength.  She’s powerful and stunning, facing off against pure evil and holding it at bay.  

A movement to his right has him snapping to attention, turning to find David gaining his feet to square off against a group of black knights who are heading their way.  Killian rises to help him, the clash of swords nearly drowned out by the howling wind.  

He and David fight side by side now, swords hissing and grunts rumbling.  They may have depleted the black knight threat, but those remaining are skilled and taking them down is getting more and more difficult.  

From the corner of his eye, he can see the light battle at the center of the room, neither Emma nor Regina gaining ground.  Desperation guides his sword, an all-consuming need to rush to Emma’s side and add his strength to hers overpowering the fatigue weighing on his muscles. His blood is racing, and his head is spinning but these last few knights are putting up quite a battle and he can’t leave David alone.

“She’s not gaining ground,” David shouts over the whistling wind, echoing his thoughts, just as one of the knights slips off his sword.

Killian can do no more than grunt in acknowledgement, too concentrated on the sword currently crossed with his while his muscles strain against the brute strength of his opponent.  The man has fifty pounds on him at least and he’s taking advantage of his size to angle the blade toward Killian’s throat. He tries to reposition into a better stance but there’s no room with how close David is standing so his only choice is to continue the contest of strength – a contest where he is outweighed, literally.  

Killian has experienced danger before.  He’s been in many tight spots where the only things he had were his wits and his sword. And there’s a certain quality about them that always amazes him later when he has time to reflect.  Each and every time, there’s a moment of clarity, a moment when your mind sees in an instant what would usually take hours for it to process.  Call it adrenaline, call it self-preservation, call it whatever you will, but that moment could mean the life or death of everyone around you.  

And this moment, while he can do nothing but strain against the sword crossing his is one of those moments.

Flashes of memories, snippets of conversations – things that seemed insignificant at the time but now weave together to create a staggering understanding that blossoms more quickly than the ding of the Jolly’s bell.  It crashes down on him, his eyes widening with the realization.  

It was always right there, staring them in the face.  

And no one saw it.  

But now he does.

And, now, he knows what needs to be done.  

Across the room, he can see the hilt of Excalibur lying on the floor next to the now shattered stone, the blade of it close by.  The jewel imbedded into the handle is glowing, almost like it’s eager to fulfill its destiny.  With renewed determination, his eyes go back to his opponent, a guttural growl releasing as he feints just enough to throw the man off balance so that his size works in Killian’s favor.  That provides the opening he needs and he rips his hook into the back of the knight’s neck.  

The behemoth falls with a loud crash, landing on the dead body of another knight just as Jeff and Patricia appear.  

Killian keeps his eye on the glowing jewel as he battles through more of the knights, impatience eating at him.   It’s frustrating to say the least that he can’t barrel past them all and head straight for the sword but the urgency to finish this makes his reflexes hyper-sensitive and he makes short work of those standing in his way.  With one last mad swipe, his path is clear and he leaps over the fallen knights to run full speed across the room.  

When he reaches the stone, he drops his own sword and tucks Excalibur’s severed blade into his belt, then he bends to retrieve the hilt.  The jewel glows brighter the instant he closes his fingers around the handle and a hum fills his veins.  He looks up to find Emma’s eyes on him even as the stream of light connecting her and the Evil Queen pulses wildly.  

She gives him a small nod.

She knows what needs to be done, too.

The black knights are all but defeated now, the few stragglers all engaged with the others, leaving no one to block his path.  Emma takes a step closer to the Evil Queen, then another, until they are mere feet away from each other, the light battle between them condensing into a sphere of purple and white light.

Regina grunts in exertion but holds her ground, her face a mask of concentration, giving Killian the opportunity to line up behind her without her noticing.  Once he’s in position, Emma takes the final step, angling her hands to push the sphere up to the ceiling where it breaks against the mosaic. Then, before Regina has time to react, Emma’s fist pounds hard into her face, stunning the Evil Queen long enough for Emma to catch the hilt of the sword Killian tosses to her and plunge it into her chest even as he pulls the blade from his belt and sinks it into her back.

The Evil Queen stumbles away in surprise, gulping in breaths as she stares at the handle sticking out from her chest.  Killian can see the moment of realization cross her features and then she raises her head with a wicked gleam in her eye.

“Did you really think this would work?” she spits, “it’s useless now. Nothing but a broken relic!”

“Not for long,” Emma replies.

Regina’s eyes narrow. “The spark of Prometheus is gone! And only the strongest of sparks can reunite –“

“Exactly,” Killian interrupts and Regina rounds on him.  “Have you forgotten the prophecy, Regina?”

He steps around her to stand at Emma’s side. “‘Together they will light the dark,’” he quotes, “’She’ll be the flame.  He’ll be the spark.’”

Regina’s eyes widen in understanding and she gropes for the hilt, trying to pull it out just as Killian clasps Emma’s hand.  

It starts as a red glow in the Evil Queen’s chest, like her blood itself is filled with light.  Then, it spreads, luminescent rays shooting from her eyes, her mouth, the tips of her fingers.  Her skin turns translucent and her head falls back, light magic pouring out in every direction.  It brightens like the sun, the strength of it filling the entire room until nothing but white light is visible.  It pulses once, twice and then bursts in warm gust that washes over him like a wave.

When the light dissipates, the Evil Queen is gone and Excalibur, reunited and glowing, is laying on the floor directly in front of them.

“We did it,” Emma breathes. “Killian, we did it!”

She throws herself into his arms and hugs him close and he chuckles.  “Aye, we did, love.”

*****

*****

That's it for now, folks. Keep a look out for an epilogue. It will be coming when I have time. Thanks again for joining me on this journey!! Your support has meant more than you know. Love to all of you!

Rachel

[sierraraeck]

Why Dads Suck

Spencer x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

(This is my gif so please give credit if used)

Summary: Partially inspired by 4x7 Memoriam. When Aundreya goes with Spencer to talk to his father, she snaps. Story six.

Category: Some angst, some fluff.

Warnings: Cussing. Talk of past abuse.

Word Count: 6.2k

“Listen to me, you worthless piece of shit.”

That was a sentence that I weighted very seriously. I cussed casually in conversation and way too much in my internal dialogue, sometimes I said it just to get people’s attention or stress the situation, but I rarely said it in a meaningful, hurtful, way. But in that situation, I was aiming to be way more than just hurtful.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Over the past 14 months, I allowed myself to care. I don’t know what got into me, but it happened. I actually started to care for the people that I worked with. I always faked that to their faces because I wasn’t a complete cold-hearted bitch, and I’m not saying that I never cared about them, I’m just saying that now I care-cared about them. Like, it was no longer ‘hey I’m glad you’re not dead’, but instead was like ‘hey I’m genuinely concerned for your mental and emotional well-being’.

And it terrified me.

When I first hit the streets, I was determined to keep a hold on my humanity. Soon that proved too difficult and my new mission was to look at everyone like a chess piece; some more useful than others but all disposable in the end if they could benefit the long-term survival of the king. That mission continued in prison and became my new everyday mindset, one that followed me into the FBI. So when I realized that that mindset, the entire foundation of my existence and survival for the past 11 years, was dissolving, and there was nothing I could do about it (I’d tried but it was a futile effort and I knew it), I was terrified. And I felt like I was falling apart.

In BAU profiler terms, that would be considered my stressor. What followed would be considered my trigger.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

Spencer was going to visit his dad.

He and I had grown very close over the course of those 14 months, and I would’ve considered him the closest person to me (with the exception of my mom and sister) ever. He even overpowered Deen and Sydney in my mind. But I guess those two were more of a ‘loyalty-to-the-end-as-a-means-of-survival’ type thing, instead of just simply ‘friends’.

I told him the most out of anyone on the team, and overall just felt like he wouldn’t judge me, which was a complete 180 considering how we started. I just felt like he understood me in a way that I hadn’t experienced, like he understood the roots of who I was, not just who I was in relation to what I’d done.

We even had a couple agreements.

The first was that I was going to make him more ‘culturally-adequate’ while he was going to make me more ‘educationally-adequate’. That took form in a book swap. I would provide him with all of my favorite and popular books (seriously, who doesn’t know the Cullens), and he would provide me with all of the profiling, math, history, engineering, psychology, sociology, chemistry, and philosophy books he’d read, along with any other fascinating topics he’d found in paperback form. We would either swap on the jet, or he’d come over to my apartment to read. We’d tried doing it at his apartment once, but I didn’t bring enough books, so it was just easier for him to be near my library. It also occasionally took form in a tv/movie swap. I would force him to watch some of my favorite shows or movies from my childhood like ‘Supernatural’ and ‘The Hunger Games’ among others, and he forced me to watch ‘Doctor Who’ and ‘Star Trek’. This we always did at his place, as to not get bored of my place. It also worked out well because I wasn’t really allowed to go out much, and he just didn’t want to go out much.

The second was ‘jet talk’. Whenever Reid got going on one of his rants, and the information wasn’t dire to the situation or necessary for understanding, I would just interrupt him and say ‘jet talk’. It was my way of letting him know that he was rambling and needed to get to the point, but that he could tell me all of that extra information on the jet. I’d become his new info outlet that he got to share all of those mind-boggling stats with, without being judged or feeling like he was on a time crunch. I had to smile the other day when he started going down that path and he stopped himself saying, “... it was an ancient ritual started by the Mayans in 500 AD, I’ll skip over all the jet talk, but the main purpose was …” It left me feeling gooey for the rest of the day.

So yeah, we’d grown pretty close, and I would say that I was becoming very protective of him, especially when it came to personal threats he’d already overcome and shouldn’t have to deal with again.

Like his father.

Which was why I was completely against the idea when Spencer suggested it.

“I have to talk to him, I have to know what happened,” he pleaded.

“I understand that, but why does it have to be like this? Why does it have to be you?” I countered. I’d suggested that he stay with either myself, Rossi, or Morgan, while the other two went to talk to that asshat for him.

“I know this case better than any of you. I have to be there.” I looked over to Morgan and Rossi for help, but they were staying completely indifferent, not willing to challenge or support either side. Spencer’s eyes were begging me to agree with him.

I sighed. I hadn’t realized our volume had risen until I brought my voice back down, trying to return to a calming tone. “I know. I just really don’t like the idea of you having to be around him. That’s all.”

He nodded. “I know. I don’t like it either, but it’s the best shot we have.”

I looked back over at Morgan and Rossi, and they both gave me a knowing look. I nodded.

“Okay. Let’s go,” I said.

“Wait, all of us?” Derek paused, his attention on Reid. He hesitated.

“If you don’t want all of us there, we understand that,” Rossi offered.

“No, I want you there,” Spencer said, still a bit hesitant.

“Are you sure? Because if you don’t want any of us there,” he looked over at me, “or you don’t think it’d be a good idea to have one or more of us there, that’s fine.”

What the hell was he looking at me for? I was offended, “Rossi, is there something you’re not telling me that I should know about?”

“It’s just that you being there could be …” he trailed off. I wasn’t sure how to fill in that blank, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. What was I doing wrong this time?

“No,” Reid said more confidently. “I want you all there.”

“Okay, kid. Lead the way,” Derek said. My mouth was still open, reeling from the shock followed by the suspense.

Rossi and I shared the back seat of the car on our way over to William Reid’s office, leaving an awkward silence looming over the vehicle.

“Look, I’m sorry. I only meant that-”

“It’s okay, Rossi, seriously. I don’t think I want to know anyway,” I said, which was a lie. I did want to know, I just didn’t want to have that conversation in the back of a car on our way to meet Spencer’s dad, stressing him, and selfishly myself, out even more.

Reid had been confident about his decision to talk to his father all the way up until we entered the building. His whole demeanor changed and he seemed frozen in time.

“Can I help you?” the lady sitting behind the front desk offered.

“Yeah …” Reid said. We all looked at him expectantly, but it was like the words were caught in his throat, like he couldn’t get enough oxygen to continue.

“We’d like to speak with William Reid,” Rossi helped.

“Is he expecting you?”

“I don’t think so.” Rossi held out his badge.

“He’s in a meeting right now, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll tell him you’re here,” she said, turning back to her desk.

“You okay?” Morgan asked.

“Yeah,” Reid answered, his breathing labored. “No, um, yeah. I’m, I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” He took off, speed walking away from us.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Derek commented. Neither had I. He’d told me bits and pieces about his family life, but that was a topic we both decided to veer away from. In all other stressful or emotionally taxing situations, he was able to keep his composure. Do the job, be objective. He even kept it together when his mom had to get involved with a case of ours. The only time I’d seen him get even a little rattled was when a case had quite a bit in common with his childhood surrounding schizophrenia right after he got some troubling news about his mother’s health, but all the other ones having to do with absent fathers creating killers didn’t get to him. Granted, those were a dime a dozen.

This, however, was a whole new beast.

“... more of a personal matter,” Rossi was saying to a man near the front desk. I must have zoned out.

“It concerns your son,” Morgan said.

“M-my son? Did something happen,” the man said. So that ugly bastard is his father?

“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Reid said, entering the lobby again. His stood more straight, trying to make himself look as tall as possible, and I could tell it was taking all of his effort to appear professional. I saw his back muscles start twitching.

They stared at each other for a few moments, sizing each other up, before Spencer said, “Hello, dad.”

William cleared his throat, “Follow me.” He led us back to his office, Rossi and Morgan sandwiching Reid between them, while I straggled behind, shutting his office door.

“You don’t look like me anymore. You used to, everybody said so,” William started. It was a lame excuse for a connecting point.

“They say some people look like their dogs, too,” Spencer quipped with an eyebrow raise. “It’s attributed to prolonged mutual exposure. Elderly couples also, they unconsciously mimic the expressions of people they’ve been around their whole life, so it kinda … kinda makes sense that I wouldn’t really look like you, I haven’t seen you in 20 years.” Whenever he got anxious, all of his sentences ran together in one long stream of consciousness.

“Are you here on business?” William changed the subject.

“Just wrapping up a case,” Rossi dryly answered.

“A five year old boy was abducted and murdered,” Morgan chimed in.

“Oh, yeah I read about that, Ethan Hayes, right? That’s terrible,” William responded.

“That case got me thinking about Riley Jenkins,” Reid said, and William turned away. “You remember Riley Jenkins?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve been having dreams about him for a really long time, but when we came back here for this case it jogged something and the dream changed. I saw his killer. It was you.”

“Interesting dream.”

“You don’t seem all that surprised,” Morgan questioned.

“I stopped being surprised by Spencer’s mind a long time ago,” William responded.

“There are certain criteria we consider when looking at this type of suspect. You fit parts of that profile,” Rossi said. He was looking at William like he wanted to choke him out right there. I could empathize.

“Me?”

“We just want your cooperation,” Rossi continued.

“My coop-” William started. He looked around at our faces and realized that we were all dead serious. “You’re not actually saying you think I killed Riley Jenkins.”

Reid gave a slight shake of his head. “We didn’t say that.”

“Good, ‘cause that’s absurd,” William stated. That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t just stand there, staring at his face knowing what he did to Spencer and not say anything.

“Is it?” I asked. William looked over at me like he was acknowledging my presence for the first time. “You were able to do something as absurd as abandon your own son, who knows what else you’re capable of.”

Rossi gave me a warning look, but Spencer didn’t even falter, his burning gaze set on William.

“Excuse me?” William asked.

“You heard me,” I simply stated.

“You know, I don’t think I caught your name when I first let you all into my office,” he said, a slight threat resting on his undertone.

“Chambers.”

“And how do you know my son, Chambers,” William asked.

“Your son? You’re getting quite possessive considering you’ve only just now met him for the first time as an adult,” I said. I kept my voice a low growl, trying to keep my head on my shoulders.

“What can I say? I’m concerned about his selection of company.” I scoffed. I was starting to realize why Rossi didn’t think it was a good idea having me around. I quickly scanned myself and remembered that I wasn’t exactly dressed like ‘FBI’ today. I’d already worn all of my official-looking outfits and was left with a more casual one, which I figured was fine because we weren’t ‘officially’ on the job. I was wearing a simple, low cut, white t-shirt under a leather jacket, with black pants and combat boots. My hair was in a ponytail, so from where he was sitting, he could probably spot my four visible tattoos.

“You don’t have a say in my selection of company. You gave that up a long time ago,” Spencer jumped in.

“Well, whatever your friend Chambers is implying-”

“Agent. She’s Agent Chambers,” Reid said. I refrained from smirking.

“Regardless of what Agent Chambers is implying I did, I did not kill Riley Jenkins.”

“We’d just like permission to look through your computer, access your records,” Morgan said, trying to regain control and focus over the situation.

“Yeah and, what would you be looking for exactly?” William challenged. He turned and looked pointedly at Spencer. “You want access to my files? Get a warrant.”

Spencer stared him down, but turned to leave. We headed toward his office door when he decided to add one last thing. “I’m proud of you, you know that? You’ve done a lot of good, choosing to help people. I mean, other people with your talents might have sought out different opportunities, a private sector. My god, you could have made a fortune.” He sighed and the message seemed forced. He sounded condescending, disappointed even, that his son wasn’t making millions.

That’s when I snapped.

“No. You know what, actually, no,” I mumbled to myself, shaking my head and turning around to walk back towards William. I couldn’t even stop myself before I punched him square in the jaw. It caught him so much by surprise that he toppled out of his chair and onto the ground. I placed a foot on his throat, careful not to put too much pressure on it, and squatted down so that I could see the fear in his eyes. “You listen to me, you worthless piece of shit.” I knew that one of the three behind me was calling my name, probably to stop, but I was too hyped up on adrenaline to pay attention. I was committed now. I removed my foot and grabbed a wad of cloth at the base of his neck and yanked him up to standing.

“You’re proud of him? You don’t get to be proud of him. You did nothing to help him get to where he is now. The only thing you did was provide him with the feeling of abandonment and anger, which luckily he was strong enough to use as fuel to become the amazing man standing in front of you, instead of letting it rip him apart. He’s way more than your small mind could ever comprehend, and he is worth way more than the bullshit fortune you wish he was making.”

“He’s also worth more than spending time with a slut like you,” he spat at me. I switched my grip to wrap around his throat, and swiftly shoved him up against the wall.

“You’re right. I have been a shitty person for pretty much my entire life. The only redeeming quality I have, is that I know Doctor Spencer Reid, and for whatever reason, he has allowed me to continually be a part of his life. To be there for him. Which is more than I can say for you. A child, especially a son, needs a good male role model, otherwise they grow up with the feeling that they can’t trust anyone, especially men. They have problems keeping healthy relationships because they can’t trust their partner, or worse, they can’t trust themselves not to end up just like their mom or dad. You were mentally healthy enough to raise him, a luxury that some people don’t have, but instead you were too weak. You left him with a mentally handicapped parent that couldn’t take care of herself, let alone a child. You didn’t even bother checking in on them. What if she’d died? What if their house burnt down? What if something happened and he was left all alone? He would have ended up in foster care or on the streets, and could have easily turned out like one of the monster’s he now hunts.” My face was hot, and I quickly swiped at the dampness on my cheeks. Get it together. My voice lowered to a murmur as the next words rolled off my tongue. It felt like it was the first time I had fully comprehended them myself, “He could have easily turned out like me.”

I swallowed, coming up for air, but I wasn’t done yet. “Is that what you would have wanted? Would you have wanted him coming in here, not to respectfully ask you for your side of the story, not even to just arrest you like he definitely could have, but to come in here looking to kill you? Is that what you wanted! Did you even think about that?”

“No,” was all he could manage to get out. He was choking on his words, so I loosened my grip. But only a little.

“No to what? No you didn’t want that or no you didn’t think about that?”

“Both! I wouldn’t have wanted that for him. And I didn’t think about it that way,” he struggled.

“Exactly. But that’s what you should have been thinking about. You should have been thinking about your child, not yourself.” I released his neck with force, shoving him away from me and further into the wall. I stepped back, giving him room to slouch in on himself. “The least you could do is answer a few simple questions for him. You owe him at least that much.”

With that, I turned around, my brain not even fully capable of processing my co-worker’s reactions, and walked out the door. I kept walking at a feverish pace until I reached the bathroom. The moment I closed the door behind me, I broke down into a sobbing mess.

What is wrong with you? You need to get your shit together! This isn’t even about you, but as always, you had to go and make it about yourself. You are supposed to be there for Spencer, not the other way around. He’s the one having to face his absent father and relive his traumatic childhood, not you. Pull yourself together!

I forced myself to deep breathe.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. In, out. In, out.

I walked over to the sink, careful to avoid the mirror, and splashed my face with water. Once I felt I was sufficiently washed clean of my meltdown, I looked up into my own eyes.

What is happening to you?

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts and refocus on the situation at hand. I grabbed a paper towel and blotted at my face. I took one more quick glance at the mirror, making sure I didn’t look like a complete wreck, and exited the bathroom.

This is about Spencer. Get over yourself. Be there for Spencer.

I walked back out into the main lobby to see that Derek and Rossi were waiting for me.

“Where’s Spencer?” I asked, trying to ignore their worried faces and the urge to just curl up and evaporate into thin air.

“He’s still in there talking to William. They asked us to wait out here,” Morgan answered.

I nodded. “Talking about Riley Jenkins?”

“I’d assume so. You were pretty … convincing,” Rossi commented. I nodded again, not knowing what to say. I stood there with my arms crossed in a self hug, digging into my sides harder than usual trying to control myself and my breathing. I looked down at my feet.

Please don’t ask, please don’t ask, please don’t … wait no. It doesn't matter if they ask because this isn’t about you. This is about Spencer and you all need to be clear headed and focused on him and what he needs.

About 20 minutes later, Spencer emerged looking as pissed as he was before, but now he also looked confused.

“What did he say?” I was quick to ask before the focus could be shifted. Not like I was expecting it to be.

“Not much, just that the three of us should talk about it together,” he answered, voice strained.

“The three of you? Who’s number three?” Morgan asked.

“My mother.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

So I was in an awkward spot. I just blew up the meeting between Spencer and his dad, but I also kind of helped get him talking? I couldn’t tell what he was thinking about it. He seemed irritated and up-tight but those were also feelings he had because of his father and the whole situation, so I didn’t know what to do regarding him going to talk to his mother.

Do I come with, to continue to support him? Do I hang back because I don’t want to cause any more problems? If I hang back and he actually does want me there, then I’m being unsupportive. If I go and he doesn’t want me there, then I’m being pushy.

I tried so hard to look for a hint as to what I should do and it never came. I was forced to breach the topic and ask, “Spencer, what would you like me to do?”

He stopped next to the car and faced me. “What do you mean?”

“I just don’t know … I don’t know if you want me to come with or ..?” I trailed off.

“Oh. Um,” he seemed caught off guard by my question. “My mother is a very difficult person to talk to, and this is a sensitive subject so …”

“You’d rather have me stay here?” I completed. There was no malice in my voice, just concern for him. He wasn’t responding, so I assured him, “Don’t worry if that’s the case. I understand.”

He nodded.

“Why don’t I stay here with Aundreya, which will help lessen the stress on your mother, and you can take Morgan with you to go talk to her?” Rossi offered. Oh no. I knew what that meant. Derek and Spencer nodded at his words, and got into the car together. Rossi gestured for me to join him as he started walking back toward the hotel that was only a few blocks from the office.

I quickly caught up to him and he put his arm out, side-eyeing me and giving me that signature Rossi smirk. For real? I sarcastically let out a sigh and rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help returning the small, closed-lip smile. I looped my arm in his, and we continued to walk. In an alternate universe, he was walking me down the aisle.

We walked in silence for a block before he finally came out with it. “So, would you care to inform me what that little episode was about?”

“I don’t like disrespectful people.”

“Neither do I. That doesn’t mean I’m going to hit every one of them in the face.”

“Well, you tend to have more manners then I do.”

“True. But I also didn’t feel personally connected to that situation.”

“What are you talking about, we are both protective of Reid.”

“We are, but we both know that’s not what I’m referencing,” he said. He stopped walking and turned to face me, taking my hands in his. “Talk to me, Aundreya.”

His eyes were soft but piercing, and his wise-guy aura was getting to my head.

I nodded, squeezed his hands, then dropped them so I could loop my arm back in his. We continued walking as I spoke. “Do you remember what I told you about my family situation about a year ago?”

“You mean when we went to dinner? Yes. You told me that your parents got divorced when you were six, you started living with your mother full time when you were nine, and haven’t had contact with your father since you were ten.” I was surprised that he cared enough to remember all of that.

“Yeah. During those three years that I was splitting time between my parents, my sister and I had to deal with my abusive father. It was mostly verbal abuse and mental and emotional manipulation. Honestly, I’ve dumped most of the memories from that time period,” I said. He glanced over at me, silently inviting me to continue, so I did. “Just the feeling I got every time he showed up to a game of mine when I didn’t want him there, or I ran into him for any other purpose, was the worst mix of feelings I’ve ever experienced. It was terror and discomfort and panic and hatred. I felt physically sick every time and it was like my brain stopped working. Even though I don’t really remember everything that happened to me, that he did to me, I just have this overwhelming feeling of disgust. I guess that Spencer’s dad demeaning him like that, and his situation being kind of similar to mine, just set me off.”

Rossi nodded and his features told me he was deep in thought. He was probably still trying to process everything I’d told him. “You felt the need to fight back.”

“Yes.”

“Can I make an assumption here?” He looked concerned. I just shrugged and nodded. “I think that while you were going through that, your big sister protected you, and you were her support system to fall back on, to keep her grounded. You’ve since become quite the fighter, and somewhere in there,” he gestured to my head, “you regret not fighting back harder when you had the chance. You regret not helping your sister out, and you now feel the need to help Spencer out and fight back like you think you should have with your own father.”

It was stunning to me that he could dissect my thoughts better than I could. Everything he said struck a nerve and made complete sense. I’d been trying to figure myself out for over ten years, and he’d figured me out in under ten seconds. It’s astonishing how that works.

“Damn Rossi. You’re so good at this stuff,” I said, and he offered a gentle laugh. “Seriously. You just described a thought process that I’ve had for ages that I didn’t even know I’ve had for ages until you just now told me about it.”

“Hey, it’s much much easier examining what’s going on with someone else than it is to have to self diagnose. There’s a reason they say that doctors are the worst patients,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Am I your patient now?” I asked, returning the eyebrow raise.

“Would you like to be?”

“If you’re going to enlighten me like that all the time, hell yeah.”

He smiled. “Alright then. That’ll cost you $17.99 up front and an additional $5.99 each month after.”

“Oh, well in that case, just kidding. It isn’t that important to me,” I laughed.

“Well, if you can convince Reid to drink half as much coffee, it’ll be included in the budget.” I laughed again. It felt good after a weird and taxing day.

“Well then I’m definitely screwed!” Oh right. Speaking of, “How do you think it’s going?”

“I’m not sure. I hope for the kid’s sake that it’s going well.”

“Me too.” We entered the hotel, and decided we’d wait in the lobby playing cards until they came back.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

They didn’t get back until 11 that night, during which time they’d talked to Diana, arrested William, released him, found out that Gary Michaels was dead but was the killer, arrested Lou Jenkins for the murder of Gary Michaels, and finally got the whole story out of Diana and William.

“And you didn’t call us?” I accused, grogginess in my voice. Rossi and I had since fallen asleep in the lobby chairs, but only for less than an hour. That was a lot to go through for just the two of them in the back half of the day.

“We had it covered,” Derek answered. I couldn’t help feeling guilty, like it was my fault they didn’t call because they thought I was too unstable.

“So what now?” I asked, trying to brush the feeling off.

“Nothing. We let the local police handle it and we head back tomorrow,” Derek replied. Rossi and I nodded.

“We should all get some sleep,” Rossi commented, surveying our faces.

He had a point, so we headed up to our respective rooms and I just about crashed the moment I entered mine. My stomach growled and I remembered that I’d skipped lunch and Rossi and I forgot to get dinner. Our nerves must have been too amplified to be overpowered by hunger. It didn’t matter now because Reid got his answers, triggering relief to course through my veins and I was much too tired to care about food. I was on the brink of sleep when I heard a gentle knock on the door.

I grudgingly got up and looked out the peep-hole. It was Spencer.

“Hey,” I said with a bit more energy, opening the door.

“Hey,” he said. He stood there in silence giving me an expectant look.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Come in.” The lack of sleep and sustenance was starting to show. I moved to the side so that he could slip by me. He sauntered toward the bed in the middle of the room and sat down. I followed suit. I waited patiently for him to speak, because I knew whatever caused him to come to my room at 11:30 after a stressful day was important, and he had to say it in his own time.

“Thank you.” His voice was a small whisper and I felt like I hadn’t heard him right. What does he possibly have to thank me for?

“For what?” I murmured.

“For staying with me through this. For trying to protect me and standing up for me. For respecting my space. And for letting me come into your room late at night to tell you this.”

“Of course. I’d do anything for you,” I said. It had come out so casually that I almost missed it. Spencer looked up at me with utter shock, which zapped me right back into reality. Oh shit. Had that really just tumbled out of my mouth?

I panicked and tried to quickly cover it up. “Like I’m happy to be here for you and you are welcome to come bug me at any time, day or night. I’m probably not doing anything interesting and I’m probably not getting much sleep either.” Although I could really use some right now if it would help me shut the hell up and stop spouting stupid shit.

Spencer’s mouth was still hanging slightly ajar from the shock of my initial comment. When he realized that I was just going to sit there staring at him until he did something, he shut his mouth and looked away from me again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“You weren’t just talking to my dad in that office, were you?”

I sighed and met his warm brown eyes. I swear those things change color on the daily. Sometimes they’re a perfect hazel, sometimes they’re a light caramel brown, sometimes they’re a dark chocolatey brown, and sometimes, when the light hits right, they look as gold as the soul behind them.

“No,” I admitted, “I was talking to both of them.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Do you wanna hear about it?” I countered. He nodded shyly. “You know how I told you that my parents got divorced and I lived with both of my parents equally for three years and then my mom got full custody?”

“Yes.”

“Well, those three year were hell. I can’t remember everything that happened to me because I must’ve dumped most of it. I told Rossi that I didn’t remember anything at all, but that was a lie. The really big incidents, I remember. Like I remember him shoving me up against a brick wall giving me whiplash for the next two weeks. I remember him cussing out my mother in the rec center, him screaming at us in the car, especially after going to see the therapist, and leaving my sister on the side of the road because she pushed too many of his buttons. I remember him pushing me down on the bed and forcing my legs open so he could look at the rash between them, even though I begged him to just let my sister help me with it,” I choked. I hadn’t told anyone this. I hadn’t really talked about it with my mom and sister much when they were alive. “I remember having panic attacks and being constantly terrified that he was going to kill my mom or sister. And I just remember this intense feeling of complete hopelessness and dread whenever I was around him or his family. They were suffocating.”

He looked at me, eyes glistening, and he let a heavy teardrop fall. I slowly brought my hand to his face, asking silent permission, and when I got no resistance, placed it softly on his cheek. My fingers barely brushed his jaw as my thumb lightly wiped away the tear. I breathed, “Don’t cry. Don’t cry for me. It was a long time ago, and I am who I am today because of it.”

He put his own hand atop mine, engulfing it, subconsciously applying a bit more pressure which I was happy to comply with.

“It’s just … It’s just that no one should have to go through that. Even if it was a long time ago.” He closed his eyes, leaning into my hand.

“I know. Neither one of us deserved what we got, but we survived and came out the other side. That’s what matters now.” I placed my other hand on his cheek, and tilted his head slightly up towards mine. “How are you doing?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “No. I just want you to know that without you, I couldn’t have solved this or gotten the answers I needed. I appreciate your strength to face my father like that.”

“And I admire yours to do the same.” He leaned out of my touch, leaving me feeling cold and got up to leave. I didn’t even know what I was saying before I blurted, “Wait.”

He turned.

“Do you want to stay?” I was too tired to fight the words, too tired to even be surprised by them.

“I’d like that,” he responded. I smiled and he returned it. I didn’t want him to be alone with his thoughts and nightmares, and I selfishly didn’t want to be alone with mine either. He slipped off his shoes and I kicked off mine and he came to lay down next to me. Neither of us cared about the clothes we were still wearing and definitely wrinkling from the long day. I took big spoon, knowing he needed me more than I needed him at the moment, even if he wasn't ready to talk about what he’d just experienced over the last 24 hours yet.

I was just about to pass out, arms hooked on my own elbows around him when he whispered, “I never explained this to you, but I think deep down the reason I was so resistant to you at the beginning was because I knew you and I were only a choice or two away from living the other person’s life.”

“Spencer,” I murmured, “you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I want you to have one, though.”

“Thanks. I’m just glad that the one or two choices after that led to our paths crossing.”

“Yeah. Me too.” That was all he could get out before both of us slipped under, able to finally relax in each other’s arms, finding reprieve from the relentless struggles of the waking world.

[salty-ironstrange-shipper]

For convenience’s sake, I’ve compiled my dark ironstrange/supremefamily headcanons

----

So I love the Dark!Stephen Headcannon, do you have any Dark!Tony or maybe some Dark!Ironstrange ones?

You guys have found my weakness

Some more dark!Stephen ones because I misread this at first (these are separate from the ones at the bottom)

Stephen reads Tony’s mind all the time. He always knows exactly what Tony wants to hear and how to manipulate his emotions. He plays with his insecurities constantly and often makes it seem as though the world is against them and all Tony has is him.

If someone who Tony cares about can be manipulated to his side, they’re fine. If they can’t, then prepare to watch him slowly convince Tony that you don’t actually care about him and are working against him.

Peter’s fine - he’s still young and fresh eyed, and Stephen has no trouble swaying him. But Rhodey and Pepper? Gone.

Pepper was easy - their relationship was already on the brink. He just pushed it over. But cutting off Rhodey involved weeks of prodding at their sore spots and the Accords and the rogue Avengers, and then it’s too late. Tony won’t even listen to him try to warn him away from Stephen. There’s nothing they can do.

Now onto what you actually asked for when I looked at it again

Dark!Tony

It started after Ultron and Wanda’s magic. Tony hated himself, hated destruction, hated what he’d done to the world. But instead of going the route of accountability and the Accords, he takes a different one — it was his job to protect the world, no matter the cost.

He obsessively builds weapons and uses them indiscriminately against his enemies — villains, terrorists, the UN when they tried to control him, the Avengers when they tried to stop him.

He realizes that he can’t protect the world like this. There are too many variables, too much out of his control. The only solution is to take it under his control.

He starts with New York, makes it his central hub. He strikes hard and fast, so fast that by the time whatever other superheros are left can even begin to respond, the city is his.

Drones that patrol the streets. Forced implants that know when you’re planning to hurt someone — or plotting against him. The city has never been safer.

He clears out the prisons and uses them as shelters for refugees, abuse victims, the homeless. After all, what are the prisoners going to use them for now that they’re dead?

It’s during a trip to one of these buildings — he always finds time for the people he’s so carefully protecting — that he finds a young boy (I’m fudging the timeline, not @ me) who tells him that his aunt and uncle died in the attack on New York and that he’s been shuffled around foster homes before ending up there. It’s not the nicest place, but there’s food and it’s warm and no one dares hurt anyone else.

Tony is so heartbroken by his story that he’s moved to take the boys home and raise him as his own. He won’t be having kids of his own now with Pepper dead, fallen when she tried to report his plans.

“What’s your name?” “Peter Parker.” “Well, now you’re going to be Peter Stark.”

And for a while Tony is happy. But it’s not long before he sets his sights on the rest of the country … with the help of a new ally.

Dark!Ironstrange/Dark!Supremefamily (look, two for the price of one)

Stephen Strange has been watching him, and he likes what he’s found. Like Tony, he’s certain that the best way to protect the world is to control it — and he thinks the easiest way to do that will be together.

Getting Tony Stark to the sanctum is easy. Quick portal under his feet. Convincing him is almost as easy. When he looks at Tony’s mind he sees the wreckage of Wanda’s magic. The remnants of her power are easily disposed of and replaced with his. From there, all it takes is his manipulation, his assurance that they want the same thing and will get it faster together. He sees it the moment Tony agrees.

Together, the rest of the states fall to them. Stephen is no longer welcome at Kamar-Taj — tends to happen when you kill most of the people at a place — and the tower has long been destroyed. So they build a new place out of what remains of the Compound, one that is equal parts magic and science.

At first, Stephen pays attention to Peter because he knows that Tony will like it and feel more connected to him — though it is not hard to connect to a man so lonely now that the world has turned it’s back on him — but he’s surprised to realize one day that he cares for him, is proud of his resilience in a world that has tired to destroy him and how he has managed to keep a sense of childlike wonder despite the odds.

Peter adores them both. He doesn’t understand why the rest of the world hates them. Don’t they know that Tony and Stephen are just trying to keep them safe?

But somehow Stephen is blind to his own feelings for Tony until they’re fighting the last vestiges of the heroes. It’s them against Captain America, War Machine, and Scarlett Witch. Thor and Bruce never returned from space (at least not that Tony knows of), and T'Challa is keeping Wakanda closed off and safe from them, ignoring pleas of help (he knows he can’t keep the world safe, only his people).

Stephen never thought that he would see Tony die. Tony Stark seemed as invincible as any human could, but he was still human. And when Wanda blasts him out of the sky, he knows what fear is. He makes her know what it is.

It’s almost poetic, he thinks. Wanda Maximoff started this with her visions and now the last of the resistance ends with her. It’s the last thought on his mind before Tony wakes up. When they kiss this time, it’s real.

… So this was more involved than I thought it would be, but I hope you liked it.

-----

I love the Dark!Supremefamily AU so much.. can you make some more headcanons for it please?

I meant to do more of these on the last one, but I got kind of carried away, so thanks for giving me a chance to do some more:

Stephen teaches Peter magic. “Don’t tell your dad.” Stephen warns. “It’ll be our father-son secret.” Peter kept his secret because it was the first time Stephen ever called him son.

Tony is extremely protective of Peter. If anyone so much of thinks of hurting him (or if Tony thinks they are …), Tony will know, and that person will soon find themselves wishing for death. Stephen makes it easier by monitoring the minds of the people around them.

One of the things Tony did when he took over was take control of companies - including the one that created the spider that bit Peter. Peter’s there one day with Tony, working on learning everything he needs to know for when he’s an adult when one of the spiders gets loose and bites Peter.

Tony is angry and terrified. Even Stephen’s assurance that Peter would be fine was worthless. He never left Peter’s side while he alternated between unbearable pain and unconsciousness. When Peter finally got through it okay - better than okay, Peter thought, looking at his newfound muscle with eyes that saw so much more - Tony wept in relief.

For years, Peter begged Tony to let him fight. There were still people who considered them villains, who didn’t understand their work, and he was eager to prove himself. Tony always said no.

When Tony finds out about the magic lessons Stephen was giving Peter, he was irate. But Stephen always had a way of bringing him around to his way of thinking. “Peter is young now. He won’t be for much longer. He needs to know how to protect himself in a world that will want him dead. Or would you keep him powerless for the rest of his life?”

Tony reluctantly let it go, but he still refused to let Peter fight. Peter begged Stephen to intervene on his behalf, but he only ever smiled and assured Peter that his time would come. Eventually, he gives in enough to say, “Ask him again after your birthday. You’ll be an adult then.”

So Peter waited until his 18th birthday. Tony had been spending more and more time away from him lately, planning something. Peter didn’t know what since by then the planet was more or less completely under their control, and Stephen was annoyingly enigmatic when he asked him.

But eventually his birthday did come. Starting with a ceremonial sacrifice by Stephen, they spend the entire day celebrating. Peter can’t help not thinking about it when he’s too busy enjoying the attention.

When sunset comes, Tony halts the party to make an announcement. “Now, for what is clearly the most important part of the evening, I have a gift for my son.” Peter sat up in his chair as Tony moved to the middle of the room where a black tube connecting the ceiling and floor. “Peter, as my present, I give to you-” the tube opened, revealing- “The Iron Spider.”

Peter stared at the suit - red and blue and, if you looked closely, gold mandalas that showed Stephen’s influence, with a spider in the center of the chest. “Are you serious?”

“Of course. You’re going to need it after all. Because next month Stephen and I will lead our new campaign as we set our eyes not on the ground, but on the sky, and leave Earth and the Solar System to continue our work of protecting the world. And Peter will be with us.”

Peter was speechless. Stephen just smiled and said “Happy birthday.”

Tony made a toast. “To … the future.”

Their guests followed his lead. “To the future!”

------

Please please give me more dark!supreme family, I'm obsessed Ps. I love your blog

I’ve created a monster

Stephen is the fun dad by design. Early on in his and Tony’s relationship, he would manipulate him into doing things that were overly strict or made Peter upset so that he could be the nice one and help Peter out

Stephen dampens Peter’s memories of his family and past friends so that he’ll be more accepting of them

Tony’s birthday present to Peter was the Iron Spider suit, but Stephen’s was a bit different - Steve Rogers, the only surviving hero fighting them, who Stephen happily killed in a blood ritual that would grant Peter protection, simultaneously giving his son a gift and ridding their family of an enemy

Tony is careful to include Peter as much as he can in the decisions he makes and what it takes to be a leader (cough*dictator*cough)

Peter matures quickly. He knows that his dads and their empire have a lot of enemies, and that they might die one day and he would need to take over

Peter didn’t have a lot of friends. Tony and his A.I. took up his schooling, and he was never able to get into contact with the people he remembered. Once Stephen got involved, he started spending time with the sorcerers, but he still spends most of his time with his dads

Usually, Peter goes to Tony for comfort and Stephen for advice. Of course, Stephen’s advice is usually along the lines of “just send them to the dark dimension” but sometimes that’s what you want to hear

That’s all I’ve got for now

[goron-king-darunia]

Annon-Guy: In response to the Successors of Hope, Chapter 9 question; 1. I know why Emil (being abused) and Richter (being a Half-Elf) didn't value themselves too much at the start, but how come Marta doesn't see much value in her own life (like giving up her life for Luin, her freedom for Altimira and even expecting Emil would be relieved she died at the Ice Temple.)? 2. Do Emil, Marta and Richter start to like themselves and begin to give their own lives more value during the True Ending?

I’m not sure. It’s possible sexism is a thing that exists in the land of Aselia and that’s why Marta has a low opinion of herself or sees herself as a disposable pretty object whose only purpose is to be cute and fall in love. But I’m not sure if that’s right. We’re not given any canon information about why she feels or acts the way she does when it comes to her willingness to throw herself in harm’s way, whether it’s helpful or not. It could be cultural. Japan, unlike the USA has more emphasis on the community whereas the USA has more emphasis on the individual. In Japan, people have implicit trust that the community will care for each other. Because of this, it’s not uncommon to see young kids basically walking or taking public transit virtually wherever they want to run errands or meet up with friends all by themselves. In Japan, seeing a kid alone is basically just a thing that happens. (This is probably why Emil and Marta can stay at inns and move around as much as they do with no one questioning it. They’re nearly young adults and unlike in the USA where the immediate thoughts are “vandals/hooligans” and “runaways” in Japan, young people walking around alone is like... normal.) So it’s possible that this same community-mindedness is why Marta feels compelled to put herself in danger. “If I don’t give myself up like Emil said, then all of Luin will be destroyed. It’s better for the community if I turn myself in.” That, however, doesn’t feel quite right, either. Her dad dotes on her a lot, before what happens with the Vanguard so it’s possible that some of this is because she feels rejected by her dad and not fully embraced by Emil or other boys. Because of this, she may be fitting herself into a role she thinks the men in her life WANT her to fit into, and has little self-esteem because she bases her identity around the men she cares about. The only significant female in her life other than Alice who bullies her, was her mother. It’s possible Marta doesn’t know how to relate well to other girls before she starts off on her adventure as she doesn’t seem to have many friends of her own.  This is all purely speculation, though. Again, the game canon and the out-of-game materials don't give us much insight and I don’t know if Tales of the Rays addresses any of this. It could be all of this, it could be none of this, it could be some of this.  My personal theory is that Marta was very attached to her mother. Marta’s entire idea of womanhood is based on her mother. Marta grew up with a devoted and caring mother that was dedicated to making her happy and making Brute happy. When she died, Marta not only lost a person she cared about deeply, but she lost that “life template.” And because of her grief, she distanced herself from whatever friends she had at the time and was averse to making new ones possibly explaining why she didn’t recognize that our Emil isn’t the “real Emil” since she probably didn’t know the “real Emil.” Then, before she could really start putting her life back together, the worlds merge into one and suddenly the cultures of Tethe’alla and Sylvarant are clashing, so she has prejudice to worry about now. Then, when things finally start getting back to normal, helping her dad run the Vanguard when it was a charity, some redheaded dude swoops in and suddenly her dad is acting really weird. She still has no friends and most of her life between her mom’s death and now was spent either grieving or helping her dad. And now she’s losing her dad to his power-hungry madness. So she simultaneously has no friends or estranged friends, a dad that’s gone nuts, a charity she helped run turning into a militant group of bigots and to top it all off, she’s having the classic teenager identity crisis because she’s had basically no time to explore her own desires or interests. She doesn’t really know herself, she has no support group, she’s involved in things bigger than herself and feels trapped, her mom is gone and she feels lost in life. She can’t go to her mom. Her dad tries to keep her safe in her room and never lets her help and won’t listen to her attempts at persuasion. She doesn’t know how to relate to her old friends and she can’t make new ones because her dad is running the Vanguard and a lot of people hate the Vanguard (see: literally all of Luin except for Emil.) She has no one she can offer help to and she has no one to offer her the help she needs. So she simultaneously sees herself as unable to help others (useless) and unworthy of the help she needs (worthless.) This is what I think contributes to that self-sacrificing demeanor and why she gets so upset if you take her out of the main fighting party and have only monsters and Emil fighting.  In terms of who’s got more self-esteem by the end of the game, it’s kind of a wash. Richter doesn’t let anybody treat him badly, but he obviously doesn’t love himself because even without the prospect of getting Aster back, he’s fully on board to just stay behind in the Ginnungagap and burn for eternity to make up for his mistakes. He pinned a lot of his self-esteem on what Aster thought of him and you can see that a lot in the Onshuu no Richter manga. Emil has improved a lot over the course of the game, but, like Richter, he’s also resigned to staying behind to fix mistakes he didn’t really make because he knows Ratatosk needs him and he feels responsible for what happened to Aster and thus what happened to the world since that confrontation with Richter. Marta has also shown improvement, but like Richter, she pins a lot of what she thinks is right and a lot of her self-worth on whether Emil approves of her or not. Ratatosk is a weird case but he’s also basically around the same level. He ACTS like he thinks he’s hot shit, but he clearly understands that everyone likes the side of him (Emil) that he considers weak. Accepting Emil as part of himself at the end of the game is one of his biggest moments of growth. If we consider Emil and Ratatosk separate entities, this constitutes growth in recognizing that Emil is that kindness that Ratatosk has inside him and continues to have inside him, despite trying to quash it so he wouldn’t be hurt again. Accepting Emil represents him accepting both his weaknesses and his kindness as part of himself. Ratatosk is learning to love not just PART of himself but ALL of himself.  I think Richter maybe has a little more work to do, but a lot of that is going to be him recognizing that self-esteem and self-respect aren’t quite the same. Richter definitely respects himself. Aster taught him enough in that department for it to stick. But he definitely doesn't love himself or see value in himself independently of what Aster would think of him or what he can do to make up for the mistakes he knows he made. He sees his soul utility at the end of the game as being part of the temporary seal on the door and is surprised when Ratatosk says at the end of it all, Richter would be free to leave. Having someone consider his life being worth saving and his freedom being valuable is clearly still new for Richter. Emil, Marta, and Ratatosk are all headed in the right direction, but I think Emil and Marta would have a quicker growth into loving themselves for who they are if they had that journey of growth separately, but I can’t say that being loved by others isn't also very helpful to learn how to love yourself. What I think would be most healthy for Emil and Marta (and Richter and Ratatosk, but that’s kind of hard considering Ratatosk puts Emil out front for social things and Richter is stuck underground) would be for them all to be part of a broader social group. Honest to god? If I were their collective therapist? I would diagnose a boardgame night or book club for these guys. Set them all up with a hobby they can do with each other once a week or once a month or something. Let them figure out what their interests are. Let them make friends they aren’t interested in dating. Let that love they get out of friendship be that first little stepping stone. “Ah yes. These people keep inviting me to things. I feel like I’m a garbage person/terrible human/worthless waste of space who’s only value is I helped the world a little bit/I made up for my mistakes/I make someone happy because I am romantically accessible. Now I see that beyond that I am actually a likeable person. People wouldn’t keep inviting me to meetings if they hated me, right?” Once they get to that level of self-love and self-esteem? The rest is fake it until you make it. Emil’s confidence issues? He just has to act confident until he believes in himself. Marta’s feeling like she can’t help or contribute? She just needs to keep helping out in small ways until she recognizes her own impact on the world. Richter’s self-flagellation over basically destroying the world? He just has to pretend to be a good person for a bit, pretend he’s worthy of other people’s genuine affection. Eventually, he’ll start seeing the good he can do for the world and that his existence isn’t just a worthless farce standing as a testament to the loss of a “more valuable life.” For real. Get these poor kids some productive hobbies and a friend-group that isn’t trying to get in their pants and you have a pretty good recipe for getting them to actually see value in themselves. Value that’s more than just “what they can do for others.” Therapy would also work but... I have not seen a therapist in all of Aselia so... clearly they need to discover that profession. XD I’m gonna @aerypear on this one to see if I need to put on the “Bad Therapist” T-shirt again. Sometimes my psychoanalysis is pretty good and sometimes I am a garbage monster. XD

[craftygoateeprincess]

ITInktober Day 5: Stutter

A/N: I swear ots a coincidence, but another TW for rape, sorry guys, these all take place at around that point in Ellies life is all xD

It was not a creature of what a human would call sentimentality. Not really. Yet the small daisy chain itched at the creature's wrist as it went through the business of cleaning up the well house it called a home of what it kept trying to convince itself was ‘worthless garbage’. By the time it had moved (not disposed of) the seemingly endless daisy chains littering the basement it felt numb.

Two hundred and twenty-eight. That was the number of daisy chains Ellie had left. Had they been done in a rush, a manic episode of greif and rage? Or had they been spread out like a remembrance, mourning for her lost friend? Could the creature still walk away knowing it had been wrong, knowing that the girl might still remember after all this time?

No, the question was answered before it could even be asked, he had to see her, even if they didn’t speak, or she hated him, the creature needed to become pennywise the dancing clown once more and see what became of his favorite little human pet…..and then however things would be, the creature would let be, but walking away yet was not an option. The heart the creature didn’t even biologically have ached and demanded he sees this….connection through to the end.

The house that had so often appeared to the creature in dreams was no longer as the creature remembered it. Different people roamed the halls, the girls' room was replaced with a nursery, and her scent was nowhere to be found. She had left, the creature decided, she had made those daisy chains in some guilt fueled goodbye and left this place behind. So too did the creature leave, unaware where to even go, just letting emotions that should be so foreign to a monster well up in ITs’ gut like toxic sludge. 

That’s when the creature heard the familiar sound of train tracks and looking up came the sight that took the breath of the creature away. A girl so changed yet so familiar sat among the daisies, contentedly sewing them into a chain with her fingers. Without even thinking, as if her mere presence blew life back into the act he somersaulted into her view.

“P- P- P-”

“P- P- P-” he mocked. “Pennywise! Ha- ha!” that shocked look on her face only fueled pennywise, as the creature forgot it’s real identity, just being near her, her voice, her expressions, she had breathed life into what was once nothing more than a mask and form to lure children in.

But something was wrong, her stuttering, it wasn't that of fear or surprise. It was all too reminiscent of a boy whose life he had tormented last cycle, each syllable forced and hard fought by a mind that knew what it wanted but a body that couldn't make it, for one reason or another. She shook her head and dug her nails in the dirt, nearly crushing the half made daisy chain in her hands. It caught him off guard, there were so many reactions that he had expected: fear, rage, confusion, joy. But frustration and a stutter was not one of them.

"Speak Ellie," he prompted with a quirk of his brow as he settled crosslegged in the field before her, it seemed to get her attention as their eyes met once more, he felt a smile tug at his lips as he reached out to remove the daisy chain from her death grip, but the second their hands met, whatever hesitence remained in that gaze snapped and she bodily threw herself against the creature, causing him (by instinct alone surely) to wrap her tightly in his arms.

"I-I Eeeeh ever since, e-ever since dad," she was the kid in female form, stuttering and straining to say the words and failing. The creature hardly knew what to say, his fingers instinctively brushing back her bangs. While normally stuttering tended to amuse him, or at worst annoy him, when Ellie did it, all he could feel was concern.

The delectable scent of fear that rolled off of her in waves did nothing to help that concern. Ellie feared only one thing, and that thing should be long dead by now.

"Your father is dead by now, surely, don't tell me that old coot still has ya scared," he teased as he ruffled her hair, but even as she smiled there was a sadness to her eyes he didn't like seeing. It reminded the creature of a dream it had during its long rest, a dream that now felt more like a vision of the future.

"Rape,"

For once she didn't stutter and for once the creature had no questions. It knew who the unknown 'he' was, knew all along the despicable human maggot would be a danger to Ellie, the creature should have just eaten the creature long ago, if it had, perhaps his friend would not be like this.

But it was because she was his friend, because he cared, that he had wanted her to stay with that man, so he knew where to find her, and look where that selfishness had gotten him.

It was not unfamiliar with the tenderer pleasures Earth had to offer, nor was it immune to its tortures. Hate. Pain. Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. 

"I'll kill him," the words were out of his mouth, spat really, before he could think over their implications. But the creature wanted to kill him in that moment, wanted to put his guilt and rage and hunger onto anyone but himself.

Before he could react, before he could stop her, or tighten his grip, Ellie wrapped her no longer tiny arms around his neck, her lips ghosting his ear like they always did when sharing a secret, and my oh my the secrets she had to share.

"Y-you p-p-promise me you would l looove meeeeh, e-even if….even if i avenged myself, r-right?"

The creature didn't need to ask, It knew, and for a moment somehow it saw the man, broken and bloody and very much dead. And oh how it loved her in that moment, more than all the others. But right now, it needed to be pennywise the clown, not IT, she needed her old friend, but perhaps one day, perhaps she could see the creature that had come to love her in its strange, alien way.

"Well then, I suppose now all we need to do is fix that stutter of yours,"

[yanderehetalialand-blog]

Can you please write a scenario where 2p!England's S/O tells him about how her father humiliated her once again, being drunk and saying that she's stupid whore who couldn't even do anything right? I just had enough of that shit and I'm desperate for some violent 2p!England. Thanks.

Ohhhhhh MY GOD YES! I absolutely LOVE murderous violent 2p England! Thank you for the ask! I loved doing this one, also oh my lord this turned out way longer than I thought it would 

BIG trigger warning!! heavy violence, gore and torture in this one

Oliver gets a call from the only person he enjoys talking to. You. He answers the phone in his normal cheery voice 

“Its so good to hear from you love, how are you today!”

He hears you sniffing a little and he immediately stops smiling and asks “Love whats wrong? Did something happen? Are you okay?” 

You respond to him trying to hold it together after dealing with your horrible and verbally abusive drunk father once again “I-I’m fine Oli, I just need someone to talk to, and you are always here for me so can we just meet up and talk?” 

Of course Oliver immediately accepts saying you could meet at the coffee shop near your house and you agree. He wants to know who made you feel this way so he can rip them limb from limb. He wants to slowly take each one of their teeth from their mouth and stab their eyes so they can never have the privilege of seeing you ever again. As he walks to the coffee shop he imagines all the horrible ways he can torture whoever made you cry or even be the slightest bit upset. He will make. them. pay.

When he arrives at the coffee shop he sees you sitting down at a table and hurries over to join you. When he sits down he gives you a look as to say tell him everything.

You sigh and just as soon as you open your mouth it just seems to spill out “I just don’t know what to do my dad he won’t stop getting drunk and when he gets drunk he calls me worthless and says I’m a no good piece of shit and it just gets to me sometimes, I know I should be stronger than this but hes my dad, I want him to love me and be proud of me but.. I guess he can never be like that..” You stop as tears start to leave your eyes and Oliver instantly pulls you into a hug shushing you and telling you not to worry.

He says that if you want to you could move in with him and he says he would never treat you like your father does. You think about it for a second and nod your head. Oliver beams at you acceptance and while he is happy you said yes on the inside he is rather distracted now thinking of all the ways he plans to butcher your father into pieces so tiny no one will ever be able to recognize his pathetic ass again.

Oliver takes you home and waits for you to pack your things, luckily your father is passed out and you can sneak around and leave without him knowing. It takes all of Oliver’s will power to not walk in there and start to stab the man for making you feel worthless. 

Oliver takes you to his house and you settle in quite nicely and he shows you to a spare bedroom you can use. You smile and hug him quietly thanking him for how amazing he is and helping you through your difficult times. He smiles back saying how it’s no problem and anything for you. he tells you he has some business to deal with and that you can make yourself at home to whatever is in the fridge if you are hungry or to watch some tv while he is out. As he leaves and closes the door locking it, he promises himself to keep you there no matter the cost, so no one can hurt you again. You walked into that house not knowing you would never be able to leave it.

Oliver goes to his shed in the back and unlocks it, he grabs some of the tools he will need to deal with that pathetic man called your father. He makes his way with his bag to your old home. He enters the house through the window a now terrifying murderous look on his usual cheerful face. Your father is still passed out on his chair and Oliver stalks over to it. He wastes no time tying your father up making sure he can’t move any of his limbs.

When he finishes his work he smiles a smile that would send shivers down anyone’s spine who saw it. Oliver drags your father into his van he used to come to your house and throws him in the back. He drives into the woods to one of his ‘play rooms’ when he has your father secure in the sound proof room he goes and fills a bucket with ice cold water and goes back to your father. He throws the water on your father and he wakes with a start, sputtering and shivering looking confused as most people would.

“Who the fuck are you!?” Your father yells at Oliver. Oliver just smiles at him not saying a word, he goes and opens his bag and the contents inside glint and shine under the low lights of the dark room. He takes out some pliers and simply says “Lets start with this”

Your father’s eyes widen with fear as he realizes the severity of his situation “I- I have money I can show you where it is, just let me go, please”

“You really are an imbecile. I’m here because of how you treated your child. They are the only light in this world and how they came from you makes no sense to me.” He brings the pliers to your fathers fingers and taps each one while smiling, loving the psychological torture just as much as physical. Your father is shaking at this point begging for him not to hurt him.

Oliver pays no mind he just keeps on smiling “Eenie meenie miney moe” on moe he clamps the pliers down, hard, on your father’s left pinky finger, there is a sickening crunch and that finger is separated from his hand. He starts screaming and begging Oliver to stop.

He just grins more loving the pained screams as he chooses finger after finger to snip off, occasionally pulling a finger nail off before the finger comes off. 

After all the mans fingers are gone he moves to take off the tape on his mouth. Your father is half in half out of consciousness from the pain and Oliver take out a needle and some clear liquid in a bottle. He injects your father in the neck with the clear liquid and suddenly your father is alert once more. “Can’t have you falling asleep on me now can I” Oliver whispers to him. He starts to scream and beg once more because of the pain radiating from where he once had fingers up his whole body. 

Oliver soaks up the screaming, loving the sounds of him torturing this man who hurt his love, his one and only. He takes a drill out of his bag and turns it on and off warming it up as well as loving how the man’s screams and begs became louder but Oliver ignores him. He places the drill on the mans right knee just starting directly into your father’s eyes grinning ear to ear before switching the drill on. Blood from his knee join the blood from his hands on the floor. Sounds of the mans screams some how get even louder mixing with the whirring of the drill as it penetrates his knee cap into his leg. Blood is being slung all over the floor and walls and onto Oliver. He stops the drill and takes it out of the man’s knee.

The man would have passed out by this point if not for the little medicine he gave him earlier. The man’s eyes are bulging out of his skull now and he is breathing heavily. He grabs his pliers once more and grabs the mans face in his hands, the man starts to say something once more but is silenced when his jaw is pried open. 

Oliver takes the pliers and goes for an upper canine and rips it out of the mans mouth. The man is once again giving strangled cries for mercy which Oliver pays no mind too as he goes for other teeth in his mouth. Once Oliver gets tired of torturing this pathetic man he takes a big butcher knife and simply cuts your father’s right arm clean off. After that Oliver just lets the man bleed out and he watches him die. 

“Hm, well that was satisfying to say the lease” Oliver muses to himself grinning once again. He proceeds to chop up the rest of the body and makes plans to dispose of it. After the body is disposed of and his lair is cleaned of blood, teeth and fingers he cleans himself up not wanting you to see him covered in blood and of course start asking questions.

He rides home to find you asleep on the couch. He picks you up and takes you to his guest bedroom putting you in the bed to sleep peacefully. He kisses your forehead whispering goodnight. He walks to his room and lays down knowing soon whether you agree or not you will be his, sleeping in his bed with him, all to himself where no one else can see you. Where you are only his and where you shall stay with him for the rest of your days, no one to call you worthless anymore.

[lestatdesade]

I've been trying not to take adderall bc its been fucking up my skin big time but when I take it I feel so. much. better. It doesnt entirely remove the fatigue but it does mitigate the brain fog and lets me avctually think about things. Also yesterday I was like "wow i've been so unproductive" but actually I plowed through my entire list minus a couple drawings that I cant do bc I ran out of decent paper to draw on. Like I work 5 days on, then 5 days off, but the museam is closed on certain days that are low traffic or have privately done tours. So its a bit weird. But yeah yrsterday I scanned ALMOST ALL THE FILM IVE BEEN PROCRASTINATING ON, I just have one more roll to scan left!!! Then I can justify sending out some more rolls that I have to be developed. Oh, and I got a 45 year old sx70 camera from a flea market thats in super good condition and the 2 pics I took look great but I havent had the chance to take it somewhere nice to use it. It kind of needs full daylight to work and it's been raining or too hot for me to go outside at all. It's such a nicely built camera. I said that I wouldnt get one bc it requires different film than my other polaroid cameras but it's really nice, heavy leather and metal build. and it folds up to be super compact??? It's so, so nice and I'm forever salty that modern tech devices just don't have thje same quality. Everything these days is built to be shitty and have no life. This camera is older than me, and tbh, it'll probably outlive me and still function well. but with the huge advances that we've made technologically, none of my current electronics will ever hope to outlive my 70s camera. I don't think its a lack of ability for companies to construct quality goods, bc manufactuering in a digital age of laser tech thats very uniform and not human made is easier, but they PURPOSEFULLY skimp on quality to sell more. to me, thats just the fuckin epitome of stupid. Like hey, we have such incredible technological knowledge, but lets fuckin ignore it so we can make more money from having phones and computers that are pretty much disposable in usage bc they have such a short lifespan. idk it just bothers me, but as a lead on, I've been working super hard on learning new art skills. I've been working a great deal w/ watercolors and I am dabbling in using UV resin. when i visisted my grandma for her birthday, I asked if I could pick one of her beloved pansy flowers. So I picked it, pressed it and encased it in resin to make a pendant. I think she's really going to love it. She makes great pressed flower art, so i fee like its a collab between us, though I don't have nearly as much experience. She gave me a pressed flower arrangement she did and framed it for me for christmas and everytime i see it I m just filled with this kind of overwhelming happiness that she made it for me. I always feel very bleak about my life expectancy since my dad died before he hit 50, and my mother is in her midsixties and I doubt if she'll make it to 70. But my grandma is like, in her 90s and walks without assistance, climbs stairs, routinely spends time with friends, and is probably more mentally sharp than I am. So I'm hoping my parents bS will skip a generation and I'll get my grandmas health. I'm not really afraid to die, but I think looking at how my parents lack of longevity doesnt really make me feel positive about the fact that I'm inching closer and closer to 30 and that I'm sure that all the psychiatric meds I've taken, and all this stress and fatigue have greatly shortened my life span. But I'm trying to keep positive and realize that much of my goals in life that have been long term were made out of internalizing toxic ideas and psychological manipulation and gaslighting. I know that deep down, most of the ideas that I have formed around even the most basic concepts of life, death and selfqworth are tainted by the abuse I went through as a kid. But I'm reearning a lot of it and really thinking about things in a way that is detached from my own experiences, and trying to reposition my perspectives. I think the idea that anyone can unlearn the hatred they are taught and that even some really "defined:" beliefs we have are more or less conditioning has really hanged the way I feel about myself. I'm less concerned about my own mortality, my legacy, and the thoughts of others. I just want to enjoy this experience of being alive, and anything more was really a lie and a delusion that I was tricked into thinking. I used to belive that if I didn't EXCEED EXPECTATIONS and make a mastery of myself then that would prove my abusers right, and confirm the idea that I am worthless as truth. But I have learned that basing peoples worth off of their success is stupid, and I can't change the illness that has destroyed all my hopes and dreams. And also that well, I don't NEED to have these crazy, unattainable goals and pipedreams to make myself feel like I deserve to live. I deserve to live, exactly as I am, even if I am a nuerotic loser who lives with my mom despite being nearly 30 and having a job. I domt have to be some fucking legend to show people that I didn't need to kill myself. I never should have felt as though that was an obligation to begin with. I exist because I do, and I don't hurt others or act recklessly in a way that endangers other people. I don't hoard resources so that others cant use them. I'm just a nuetral being, thats akll

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

life story part 23

Going up to north Idaho that winter was one of the few things I really enjoyed. Somehow, I didn't get bored up there. My mom got me this old fashioned clickety click type writer and I would just sit around and write all day. It snows hard and constantly up there in the winters. The sights were lovely. After school on Fridays, and during winter break, I would endure the three and a half hour drive up there to be in my grandpa Roy's mountain cottage. I would write and draw, and I found some occult books that I started to read. I was especially fascinated with Aleister Crowley I remember. I didn't obviously have access to his books or anything, just his life story and some statements he made. I think, even though I am not all that big on the guy now, that he might have been a gateway for me to really actually begin questioning reality. I mean, naturally, I have always been very much in my own mind. I had questioned a lot about life before, but this was sort of different. I think it made me interested more so in the way the world works that lead me to be interested in consciousness, the human mind, things like that.

I also started studying Arthurian Legends. It was difficult to understand some of the stories that are in the original book of Arthurian Legends. I got through it though. I made this anime in my mind that revolved around king Arthur, and I was drawing that a lot. In school, we had to read The Outsiders and That Was Then This Is Now. I remember being pretty heartbroken about the later. A comic book shop had opened up in Moscow, and we all swarmed up there to get anime stuff, which we were all very excited about. When we got up there, my friends went towards things they knew they liked. Katie was in love with InuYasha I think. For some reason, I ended up in the vintage anime section, and I ended up buying this really strange comic called Mya the Psychic Girl. My friends thought that the anime was bad, and I grew to be embarrassed that I had picked this out at random, but on looking back, I actually think the art was really good. The story was -eh, but I am actually pleased that went for something a little different.

Going up north, I was removed from my own identity. There was always a fire in the fireplace, and as I would sit there and draw, the dogs, all three, Chester, Tasha and Pepsi would all gather around me to snuggle. There was endless amounts of food to eat in the freezer. I also found this stash of my grandpa Roy's pickled garlic – something he must have enjoyed in life because he had an entire shelf of it. I ate a lot of this. Roxanne also for some reason on one of her spending sprees would buy these enormous boxes of Valentine's day chocolates, and eggnog. This caused me gain a lot of weight. At my dad's as well, I was secretly buying cookie dough and tubs of frosting and eating them straight. I would end up hiding them under my bed when my dad came home, and if I didn't finish them, they would rot. I had to dispose of the waste and this strange pattern of eating horribly and feeling shame set in. I would never/ could never do this now not only because it is terrible, but it is also gross. I had not yet reached the total awareness that eating had any connection to weight gain. Around me, there was a lot of stuff going on that wasn't good. There would be twenty to thirty people who were driving up to find Roxanne to spend her money, and she was gullibly giving it all away, all 90,000 of it. Drugs were everywhere. The whole thing was a mess, and a temporary convenience that was sure to fall apart at any moment.

Roxanne and my mom found out that I was wearing five bras – one on top of the other because they were all training bras and were not in themselves adequate in the job they were supposed to be doing. So, Roxanne was nice enough, despite being high as a kite, to drive me all the way to Post Falls, and at the time I was blown away by the first Super Walmart I had ever been in. She bought me a bunch of stuff I really needed, make up, hair stuff, a hoodie to keep warm, bras and underwear. My dad didn't really get me that stuff even though he had the money to. Roxanne, even as high on meth as she was really helped me during this time. We would also drive around from gas station to gas station going to the sticker machines and she would give me absurd amounts of money to try and get me as many stickers as I could. We would drive around late at night, buying out the machines – which caused me to have a big collection of venting machine stickers that I don't have anymore but wish that I did.

The grandest and most memorable thing of this time for me, was going to the theaters and watching Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. We went with my grandma Marie, my sisters, my mom and a my younger siblings. I honestly at the time thought that it was absolutely the best movie I had ever seen. I was on the edge of my seat. I remember every single aspect of it seemed amazing to me and perfect in every way. Though, now on looking back, I mean, it's okay. I am no longer that into the movies, and to be honest, I am not super into Lord of the Rings. But I mean, back then, that movie coming out had this major impact on me. I remember leaving the theaters feeling better than I had ever felt. It even made Kyle seem kind of distant and lame.

The worst time I had though was one night, I was waiting with Allison, and my mom had left with David. They were supposed to be back in two hours. Five hours went by, and I started to panic. I tried calling her on her humongous cellphone but given that we were too far out in the woods, I could not really reach her. Something switched in my mind, and in my mind, I knew that my mom and David were dead. I began crying out in despair. Another five hours went by. I had been hyperventilating. I had this perfect understanding by that point that the two of them were dead. I began throwing up. I could barely breath. I can't remember most of it, only that I was certain they had died. My mind was very lucid, and I could have been convinced of nearly anything. When finally, my mom and little brother did show up around three or so in the morning, I was at a loss. They had just stayed at my uncle Rusty's a little longer than normal. I tried to explain to them how I had known they were dead, and it was just like 'eh, well we aren't.' This was not my first panic attack, but this was in a way one of the first times where I could definitely point out that I alone had a way of mentally overreacting to my own thoughts. I try to take this side of me into account when I am upset. I have to remember that if I let my mind spin out of control, I can distort my own reality and do some pretty extreme stuff.

As anyone would guess, this arrangement in my grandpa's place did not last. My oldest sister Maria was there at my grandpa's home initially, but due to the poor relationship she has with our mom, there was a big fight. They had both been aggravating one another in ways that were unnecessary to me, but it was my dear old mom was actually really the vicious one. My mom has always been abusive towards Maria. Since Maria had had that panic attack that year, she had this big scar on her head from where she slammed her head into that can of green beans. In this fight between them, my mom grabbed a can of green beans and told Maria to bash her brains out on this can, and to go ahead and kill herself and do everyone a favor. It was extremely cruel, just a twist of the knife that made me sick in it's tone and how she meant it, and I was sickened by her. She always seemed hungover and moody. And to see this exchange go down – I watched something behind Maria's eyes crumple, and my mom had this bloodlust in her eyes like she really would like to see Maria die. I cried out 'MOM, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?' but she ignored me. Maria packed up Jasmine and baby Ian and went to Florida shortly after with Earl, whom she hated.

Then, sometime after I stopped going up there as well, as much as I loved being snowed in. Roxanne and I were in the house. My dad was coming to pick me up to take me back down to Kendrick to spend some of my winter vacation with my Uncle Bob who had flown up to see everybody, potentially go to Red River Hot Springs, and go to some kind of Christmas party with Jodi's family. As I was waiting, Roxanne was getting drunk on hard liquor and taking pills. I didn't know this, and it seemed to come upon her suddenly. We were just talking and hanging out, and suddenly she started telling me I was pathetic. I got confused. She started saying that if I didn't invite Kyle to stay up here during the weekends, than I was worthless. I tried to explain that under the circumstance and how close I was to Kyle, that that was absolutely crazy and sure to get a strong rejection. She started then screaming at me saying I was a ugly little bitch. I got teary eyed, and then kind of realized fully that she was drunk and high. I had absolutely no idea why she even did this to herself. She seemed suddenly quite miserable. She ran into the bathroom and began puking. My ride came and I left and decided that I wasn't going to go up there anymore. The drugs were starting to make people mean. Roxanne remembers saying none of this to me.

Jodi's family's Christmas party was long and boring. It was just a bunch of adults I had never met. I wasn't cute enough for them to be of any interest. There was a gift exchange. I ended up getting gifts from this crazy great aunt of Jodi's who was in a nursing home somewhere whom I never once met. Everyone seemed to silently agree that her gifts were the worst. We all took turns opening the presents. This crazy aunt's gifts were not all that bad though – for me at least. She got me this porcelain doll with this really fucked up look on it's face, with eyes bulging out. It was actually pretty cool, and where on earth did she find this doll? The second thing I received was this jukebox alarm clock. I didn't like it at first, but after awhile, I began having this appreciation for the oldies more so because of it.

I ended up skipping going with my dad, Jodi, Jessie and Allison and David to Red River Hot Springs. I loved that place and it was of course enchanting and all that good stuff, but I wanted to be alone in the house more. I wanted to charge food at the store, and just sit around and read and be alone for a few days. I felt really awkward going anywhere with them. So I pretended that I had the stomach flu. They left without me and I watched them go. And then, inn a strange turn of events though, I ended up legitimately getting the stomach flu. So perhaps it was better I had not gone after all.

I got better and I got to be alone like I had wanted. I heard Kyle going sledding one night, and seeing that my room had this big prominent front window that looked down over the street, I wanted to spy on him, but I didn't want to be noticed. So I sort of ducked and watched him. This behavior seems so ridiculous to me now, and I cannot imagine doing this at all, or even wanting to. In the process of doing this, funniest thing happened. As I was looking down and spying on him as he and his friend were getting their sled ready, I ducked before they saw me, and I think his friend noticed and said something. They watched for awhile looking up at my window, and I tried nervously to not move at all.. But then, Pepsi came to the window, and she looked at them intently and began howling like a coyote. I tried to stop her, but she would not be dissuaded. She howled for ten minutes. I had no idea what had gotten into her.

I had asked for a lot of empty tape cassettes for Christmas. I was getting for some reason obsessed with the radio. I had noticed over the years that songs stopped being played on the popular radio stations as new hits kept coming in, and I never got to hear them again. I didn't have money to buy albums, if there was a way to easily access them on the internet I didn't know how to do that. I have always been an obsessive archivist. I like collecting objects, noting small details. I try to write everything down even if I never put it online. I want to own music on my computer that I don't even like. I have about 100,000 songs on my computer. I like connecting small occurrences with major events. I try to take note of small details – while often times missing big obvious ones. I try to spin this comprehensive web, and I try to organize everything. Which leads to me forgetting about everything around me.

So, I go these tapes to tape the radio, hours and hours alone. I decided that somehow I was going to collect every single song I heard. I went through tapes and tapes. Then my tape deck stopped working to record the radio, and I had to get an individual tape recorder and set it close to the radio, which created weird static faraway sounding versions of the originals. I was up most nights doing this. I would listen over the tapes, and the entire vibe of these songs gave me this cold chill. I also started feeling like there was more to music than what I had always listened to on the pop radio station. There had to be more than Shakira, Sum 41 and all that. I  eventually tuned into the AM stations, which I had never done before. And I got sucked in to these distant recordings that were probably being broadcast over 100 miles away.

This feeling in and of itself caused/ still causes my heart to get this imploding feeling. I found these Mexican radio stations that broke my brain. It sounded like a mariachi band playing from hell. The sound of scratchy faraway sad obscure tunes from the 50's. Some of them were even sixties songs. It felt like some distant memory of a party in sixties where someone overdosed and was forgotten. There was a radio station that played very old country, and occasionally Art Bell would be on. It felt like something was being dragged out of me and I have never been the same. It wasn't pleasant, but it was still good. Sometimes, I would listen to the static with some inaudible preacher ranting. I could not hear it all, but the feelings I got from it was eerie, and made me feel more alive. After doing this for a few months, I stopped listening to pop music. It was no longer good enough for me. It sounded hollow and plastic. The feelings that were generally conveyed were very cheap. Not that there is anything wrong with that. But it's like if you were only aware of the top layers of the ocean where everything is more or less understandable and safe. But things go much deeper, and most people aren't really aware of that.

I had also asked for a few CD's for Christmas. My friends were all really into Avril Lavigne, so I bought that album. I secretly hated it, and it made me feel kind of sick, but for some reason since my friends liked it, I was unable to contemplate not liking it myself. I did eventually give up listening to it though. And then I got this Los Ketchup album, which is this ridiculous girl group from Mexico that did this song that was popular for awhile called The Ketchup Song. I thought that song was just great when I was younger. And I actually listened that silly album a lot.

Jodi had convinced my dad to get Dish. So I started watching a lot of music videos whenever no one was home. Music was becoming my world. MTV by this time had just been taken over by reality television, which never appealed to me. So I spent more time on MTV2 and VH1 (which both eventually were also taken over by reality TV). I stopped going to school whenever possible so I could watch I Love the 80's, and music videos. I really was getting into the 80's music videos. I felt like there was this alternative world in the 80's that never changed. Spandex were always in, Bizarre Love Triangle was always playing. It had this surreal darkness around it. And I was very lost. It had just gotten to this point where I couldn't go to school. One day, I was ready to go and everything. I was even going to be on time. But then this rush of anxiety hit me and I passed out. I couldn't really keep doing this at all. My dad and Jodi were fighting by this time, so I was able to stay home without him noticing. He was never home when the school called. And before there was caller ID, you just used your senses to know who was calling. I always knew it was my school, or if it was a friend. You could just hear something between the rings. I think a lot of people know what I mean by that, but it's hard to explain exactly.

I started dressing differently, and putting my make up on differently than my friends. I dressed in black as much as I could. Somewhere, I had seen a picture of Robert Smith, probably on VH1 eighties hour. I didn't know who The Cure was, but I loved his make up and I wanted to emulate that style. I would usually walk to the school when it got out to greet my friends. I was there maybe half the time, and only because my dad would be home that day. Sarah once asked me why it was that I dressed all in black. I responded that it was the way I felt inside. Which, on retrospect is so cliché. I meant it though and had no idea that I was doing something that had been said and done before, and at the time that seemed really profound to my friends. I also loved watching The Breakfast Club. Today, I have problems with this movie because I don't like the way that the weird girl has to change her look to be acceptable to Emilio Estevez's character. It is actually quite a slap in the face to my kind. But I loved that movie, and would watch it every time it was on television.

My dad just didn't know what to do with me. He decided that he would have Jodi take me to get a makeover at the mall. I think he was hoping to get me more into being into normal 'woman things'. Nobody understood why I taped hours of the radio or had drastically changed my attire, or reading books on horoscopes and the occult. I think a lot of people have thought it was some kind of a faze, but it wasn't really. I mean, I have changed my look over time for sure, limiting some things and expanding others, but overall, this change was honestly one of the first things I had done that set me apart from everyone else and felt more true to myself. The same with the music I was listening to and everything else. For years I had been trying desperately to fit into a certain image, with this dull unsaid promise that everything would be okay, if I could only be like everyone else. But embracing what I liked, I think actually made me a lot healthier. Sure, I was a terrible student. But I started crying less and less because Kyle didn't like me.

The make over was lame. The girl who did my make up was really subtly rude to me. She seemed uncomfortable with touching my face because of my zits, even though my face had been cleaned. She told me I had ugly eyebrows and eyelashes. My eyelashes are really small and light colored, despite having very course dark hair. I think it's because I am part Swedish. They put such light colors on me that it didn't really make me look that different. Everyone was expecting that I would look like a new person when I got home. I could see the disappointment on their faces. I actually did my make up better on my own. The black stuff looked better.

My dad also tried to get me glasses. I feel badly about this, since it was a waste of his money. By this time, I was absolutely blind as a bat, probably genetic since neither of my parents can see well, but maybe due in part to all the times I had pressed my eyes as hard as I could to watch the colors, lights and images that my brain produced. Or maybe all the times I had stared into the sun just a little too long. I went to the eye doctor, and against my wishes, I picked out some glasses. They were very expensive. I thought glasses on women were ugly at the time, perhaps my own internalized sexism against myself at work. So once I had gotten these glasses, I intentionally broke them one day so I would never have to wear them. I didn't want people thinking I was ugly. And looking back, I do feel bad.

There was a winter dance that January. I ended up going. It was the first dance I had ever been to. I was really nervous. Mostly, I stood off to the side. My friends had started hanging out with this girl named Ava. Ava had been popular, but she was a lot different than the other girls, so she had decided to jump the group and moved on over to my group which seemed like a lot more fun. She was really outgoing and forward. I hadn't really talked to her much yet but she had found out that I liked Kyle and she was bold and kind of did her own thing so she intended on asking if guys would dance with all of us, including, and maybe especially me. She did not understand my hesitation at all. We were entirely different in that way, and she didn't understand the lengths I took or how I overthought things. She was going to go straight over to Kyle and ask him on my behalf without my permission. She told me she was going to ask him whether I liked it or not. I was shocked. I begged her not to. So, exasperated, she  instead asked Andrew (boy who spit gum on my seat the previous year) if he would dance with me. He said yes. I have no idea if I danced correctly. I do remember that I was actually really happy. It wasn't bad at all. I didn't like Andrew like that, but it was actually really nice to just dance with boys. It gave me this tingling feeling in my head – which didn't last because I didn't have any real feelings for them.

Eventually I did dance with Kyle. I could not believe he had said yes. I really admired Ava for having demonstrated to me that I could do things like that. I don't even remember the actual dance. I was so overwhelmed and happy, but it seemed to go well (I mean, this was a lame small town junior high dance, so if you take that into consideration). I remember the song we danced to was some slow Usher song. My friends all danced with other guys. I was so excited that after dancing with Kyle, I went straight into the girls' bathroom and slid down the wall. In order to prevent myself from smelling like sweat, I had soaked my arm pits with perfume. The perfume was burning my skin terribly. Despite this, I could not feel any of the painful rash. I was shaking. Suddenly, a bunch of popular girls went into

the bathroom and surrounded me. They started asking me if I had a crush on Kyle. They said they could just tell. I denied it meekly, re situating my appearance of being on the floor to make it seem more casual and less like someone who was so happy they could not walk. They kind of tried to let me know that he was Kayla's, and to leave him alone. I acted like I didn't care.

PART 22 -  http://tinyurl.com/yat6cfnw

PART 21 -  http://tinyurl.com/y783egno

PART 20 - http://tinyurl.com/y8jskymt

PART 19 - http://tinyurl.com/rfhbms8

PART 18 - http://tinyurl.com/ycrznrwk

PART 17 - http://tinyurl.com/y77unlng

PART 16 - http://tinyurl.com/yadpsv8c

PART 15 - http://tinyurl.com/yb3lt6k5

PART 14 - http://tinyurl.com/yb4cfedq

PART 13 - http://tinyurl.com/yalanq9s

PART 12 - http://tinyurl.com/yc79mw94

PART 11 - http://tinyurl.com/yc9qhj84

PART 10 - http://tinyurl.com/yb734w24

PART 9 - http://tinyurl.com/yc2t6vfw  

PART 8 - http://tinyurl.com/ybl37utq

PART 7 - http://tinyurl.com/ybvo283g

PART 6 - http://tinyurl.com/kbc9dwu

PART 5 - http://tinyurl.com/msnz4am

PART 4 - http://tinyurl.com/k9x8esg

PART 3 - http://tinyurl.com/mwp9atx

PART 2 - http://tinyurl.com/lbt6xq2

PART 1 - http://tinyurl.com/l8xbvg8

[saintheartwing]

So, Cap. Marvel had this One Deleted Scene...

It sort of expands more on her stealing that motorcycle. Here.

https://twitter.com/usatodaylife/status/1131620934077571072

I’d say “You should have included this, it adds more personality to her when she kind of needed it in the film” but...then I thought about it. It’s just more FLIPPANCY. Y’know, the only other switch she has other than stoic calmness. Those are the two buttons she predominately has throughout the film. She’s calm and collected and all stone-cold “Don’t got nothing to prove to you” and flippantly snarky when she’s not. That’s it.

I know what you’re thinking. “Well a lot of the Marvel heroes are snarky and quippy and flippant, why’s it okay when they do it”? 

One, it gets annoying seeing it done twenty times. 

Two, the guy who does it the most and started the whole snarky dry wit humor thing? Iron Man. 

And I HAAAAAAATE Iron Man. I have never, EVER forgiven him for the stuff in Marvel’s Civil War comic. Not ever. He got off fuckin’ scott free and he can fuck a garbage disposal. I’m Captain America all the way. Even though they fucked HIM over with the Hydra crap in the comics. 

Three, we actually get to know the characters in the other films who do similar behavior. We know their likes, dislikes, their fears, hopes and dreams. We see their family. We get a buildup. What do we really know about Carol? 

Well, we THOUGHT we knew her when the film starts off, then about twenty minutes or so in...evidently not, something’s off about her past. So everything we THOUGHT had been established about her past was a big fuckin’ lie. She’s not that person at all. So who is she then? Do we see her past? Not really. The most we ever see of her actual past doesn’t add up to ten minutes of screentime and it’s FLASHBACK stuff that first appears with quick, almost seizure-inducing editing when her brain is being scanned. Then there’s the one full scene when Mar-vell is shot and Carol gets her powers. That’s it. 

Let’s compare her to Captain America. We see his normal life. We see him with his friend Bucky, and him wanting to join the army out of a sense of Patriotic duty and because he doesn’t like bullies, and the Nazis are the biggest ones of all. He’s too weak though. But then he gets a chance to be a candidate for a super soldier serum and proves his mettle by trying to fall on a grenade to save his fellow men. We also see he’s smart, and not a brainless brick. He gets a flag down that nobody else did not by climbing up the pole...but by just knocking down the pole itself, then leisurely plucking the flag up. Nobody else thought of that. But he did.

So we see him quite a lot and get to know who he is BEFORE he gets his powers and even then, it didn’t really change who he was inside. It just brought out the potential that was always there. 

But Carol? What do we know about her? We don’t really see her with her friends and family. We get TOLD what she is, but we’re not SHOWN. And on top of that, she doesn’t really suffer any consequences or trials. She gets it easy.

Let’s compare. 

Thor actually gets kicked out of his home. He disobeys his dad’s orders and because he’s such an arrogant toe-rag, he is stripped of his godhood, and he can’t even use his big, fancy hammer because he’s not worthy of it anymore. He’s easily captured by SHIELD. He’s a fish out of water who has no idea how the Earth works and he has nothing but the clothes on his back, and he has to learn humility, and to respect other people. He begins to fall in love with a human woman, and at the end he even offers himself up to save others. So he fell to his lowest point and then got to rise back up by proving himself humble and noble and worthy again through self-sacrifice for other’s sake. 

Guardians of the Galaxy. It opens with a KID LOSING HIS MOM TO CANCER. He’s so hurt he can’t bring himself to take her hand on her deathbed, he runs out of the building to cry and he’s abducted by aliens whom, we get told, joke about doing things like EATING HIM. Which he doesn’t find funny AT ALL.  That kid grows up into a rather selfish jerk who’s an arrogant thief, and he gets into a big fight with bounty hunters AND they all get tossed into jail. Peter, the kid, has to work with others to break out and sell the fruits of his labor, which turns out to be an infinity stone. We learn more about the others, we learn of their pain, and we see them at low points too. Rocket drunk and feeling like a worthless, stupid animal. Drax tries to avenge his murdered family and fails miserably. Groot’s self-sacrifice. And they’re all...well...losers! All of them have indeed lost people and Gamora’s implied to have been heavily mistreated by Thanos, but they’re also all sort of pathetic. Just about everything they try to do blows up in their face in some way. So because they keep getting screwed over and screwing up and then at the END succeed by working together, we can identify with them. They don’t really have these huge, amazing powers either, so you can further identify with them because for the most part, they’re just normal people with guns and knives except for Groot. 

Capt America, as I’ve shown, has a ton of his life shown before he even becomes Captain America. But he loses his best friend. He can’t even get drunk to numb the pain.  And then at the end of the film he has to sacrifice himself to keep WMDs from being launched on America. He crashes into the arctic, and he doesn’t die, but he’s frozen for 70 years. He’s lost the love of his life. He’s lost his whole world, his time. All of his friends and family are dead now. He’s got nothing. He saved America...but he has nothing left. THAT...is tragedy. THAT...is drama. THAT...is good writing and it gets us to identify and relate to him.

Heck, take ANT-MAN. He’s a pathetic thief. He can’t even see his own daughter. He can’t even pay child support. He can’t hold a job because he’s a thief. So from the beginning, this guy is a loser. His only special thing is the suit he manages to steal, and he even at first doesn’t WANT it, he tries to return it. Throughout the film that sense of “this guy’s pretty pathetic” lingers on. His big thing is being able to shrink and to summon ants. Not that impressive. But we can relate to somebody who’s so pathetic, we can see ourselves in him, especially since he sincerely keeps trying to help his daughter. You know, the clear, obvious family that’s very firmly established and we get to know more than Marvel’s family who isn’t even her actual family and most of what we know about them  is from an info-dump scene and very brief flashing images of her singing in a bar with Monica? 

Even TONY has a better origin. At first he’s a smug weapons manufacturer. Then he gets kidnapped. He’s gonna get killed. He gets to know a man named Yinsen, a doctor, who helps save his life. They form a bond and Tony builds a suit made of scraps in a CAVE! But tragically Yinsen dies to save Tony. Tony barely makes it out of their alive, and decides...no more weapons. His company is done selling them. Period. But he does build a new suit, the Iron Man suit, and decides to use it to start helping people and fighting terrorism. He wants to clean up the mess he’s unknowingly made. He was at a low point. Knocked down. Nobody takes his company seriously anymore and they think he’s cuckoo for getting out of the weapons business AND if that electromagnet in his chest is removed, he’ll die. There’s a real threat to his life. So at least he started out at a low point and had to rebuild himself and build his way back up. And even then I still don’t really like him much at all.

There’s only ONE origin that I think is truly weak and could be called worse than Capt. Marvel’s. Hulk. Bruce Banner HAS to control his temper, sure, because when he tried to perform an experiment to make humans immune to gamma radiation...it failed, he went all Hulk and destroyed the lab he was in and killed several people AND he hurt the guy who helped start the project, Gen. Ross AND his beloved Betty Ross, whom Bruce cares for deeply. He’s a fugitive from the law from the very beginning of the film and desperately looking for a cure. And yes, the entire film he’s on the run and there’s never a moment’s peace for him until the very end. But then again, Captain Marvel is also on the road and the run a lot of her movie, and we see more bonding with the people who used to be her friends than Hulk bonding with Betty. And she and Nick Fury get plenty of great friendship too. Not much friendship and bonding in Hulk.

But I think you get the point. Compared to almost all the other superhero origin films in Marvel, Carol Danvers got jack. Even BLACK PANTHER in HIS debut in Civil War got more because we see him lose his dad and he doesn’t even get vengeance and he has to accept that revenge isn’t the answer. There’s an arc. And he’s also more fleshed out as a character. Plus his own actual movie gives him even more of an arc and having to accept responsibility for his country while realizing they’ve really dropped the ball on how to handle power. And the villains aren’t boring either. 

So Captain Marvel’s film is just...ehhhhhh. Meh. Blah. Whatever. That’s it. 

I know what you’re gonna say. “But it got so much money!” Yeah. And one of the big reasons was the same reason Black Panther did. Superhero marvel film featuring a type not seen before. For Black Panther, it’s a mainstream black superhero. For Capt. Marvel, mainstream superHEROINE. We only really had one other, Wonder Woman. People were hungry for more, even if the end result is just OKAY or AVERAGE at best. People will accept poor representation or just average if the alternate is none at all. You’d rather have crumbs than nothing. Even the critics said Captain Marvel was about a 78%, even Ant-Man and the Wasp, one of the weaker Marvel films, got a higher rating. It got ONE point higher than Thor, one of the weaker Marvel origin films. But to be fair it dead beat The incredible Hulk! And again, that’s from the Critics. AKA people who get paid to like this stuff. Sometimes outright directly in Sony’s case since we found out they were paying off critics. XD 

Just saying. Capt. Marvel wasn’t that good. But if I had to say one thing about this deleted scene that didn’t make it into the film, it’s this.

SUUUUUUUUUUUBTLE. XD

[pinkstarbeam]

I feel like it’s time I old you guys this, let you guys know the real me.

You guys are my internet best friends and I feel like you guys deserve to know the real me and why I am the way I am. @justpidgance​ @thenerdbeast @tory-b @prsphny

Hello, my name is Lacie Dawn and this is my story. I was born on July twenty-first, nineteen ninety-eight in Oklahoma to my wonderful parents! Other than my parents and myself there are my divided siblings. My two oldest siblings Charity and Randy were fifteen and thirteen when I was born, they are my Dad’s kids. My third oldest sibling is Lori, she was twelve when I was born and my Mom’s daughter. Together my parents had my only full blood brother Bryan who was eleven. As I grew up I supposedly did a lot of weird and straight up terrifying things that left my Mother nearly tearing her hair out! I would escape out of the house no matter how many locks were on the door, i’d jump off off high places, and I would even just hide from everyone. Yeah I was a bit of a troublesome toddler, but I knew my family loved me no matter how much of a brat I tended to act like. My siblings were all graduated by the time I was eight years old which meant I was more so raised as an only child despite being the youngest of five, but I didn’t mind really, I liked having my parents to myself. School was great for me for the first two years, but once I hit second grade my whole world came crumbling down from one angry girl pushing me down in the hall, her harsh words forever seared into my brain and still to this day I still wonder why she told me to stop being so happy as if it was some kind of sin to smile and enjoy my life. After that push came even more pushes as well as harsh words, trips, and a new playground trend called Lacie germs where all the kids refused to even be near unless they had to be in fear of contracting the so called germs I carried on my person. I would tell my teacher about what was going on, but she always told me that I was either being a tattle tale or that kids were kids and to just run along and play. She hated me and it was obvious despite her telling my parents how much she enjoyed me in her class, all she would do was subject me to ridicule from other kids by making fun of how slow I was in class rather than helping me, it was so bad that I almost got held back, but guess what? Wicked witch of the west became my third grade teacher again the next year so for two years I had to sit and suffer in silence because if my teacher wasn’t gonna help me, then who was? When I hit fourth grade I truly thought that maybe I was free finally seeing as I had an amazing teacher who was also a family friends, but sadly even with my teacher helping me at times there was still playground and P.E class to which were filled with nothing but ridicule and hatred towards me. It was in my fourth grade year that one of the most scarring events of my life happened, I was in an after school program and the only kids left to be picked up were my bully and myself, we were outside with a teacher who was keeping her eye on us, but she said she needed to go get her things and left me and him alone. I remember I was on the swings and he just came running as me with a stick whilst swinging it wildly as he chanted that he was going to kill me and finally get rid of me, a worthless person! I had never ran so fast in my life and though it was only a few minutes that the the teacher was gone it felt like an eternity as I was running for my life, when she returned the boy acted like he had nothing wrong while I was shaking to much to even try and tell her what happened. Once I was home that day I remember running to my room and just breaking down in tears because someone wanted me dead, when my parents came to check on me and I told them what had happened my Dad immediately went to the school the next day, but since it couldn’t be proven my bully did anything he was only suspended for a week rather than a year which only made things so much worse because, now he hated me even more. After that event I started to see my school’s therapist weekly and sometimes even twice a week if I was having a hard time in class, it was than that my school’s therapist first told my parents I suffered from anxiety and depression as only nine years old, but what they didn’t know is that I was growing suicidal though at the time I didn’t know how to describe the extreme feeling of sadness to the therapist. When I hit fifth grade my life took another turn as my teacher noticed I was falling behind and decided to have me tested to which we found out I suffered in mathematics, seeing as I needed more help than others I was placed into a special education math class which only made the already large target on my back grow to one so wide that anything said sent me into an anxiety attack. When sixth grade hit I had decided I decided I wanted to die, that life wasn’t worth living at eleven years old, so I climbed the tallest tree I could find and jumped and though I didn’t die I messed up my ankle enough that to this day it randomly goes out on me. By eighth grade I had grown severely depressed and suicidal and began to self harm as well trying a second suicide attempt that way and a third with pills the summer before high school, both unsuccessful as you could have guess, the cuts weren’t deep enough and I threw up all the pills within a few minutes after taking them. I was stuck. Entering high school I somehow managed to make new friends as well as one of them even becoming my boyfriend, things were looking up for me and even my friend at the time talked me into finally telling my parents how I was feeling and get professional help, for the first time in a long time I was starting to feel happy again, however a year and a half later it was like a wrecking ball came crashing through my life as my so called friends and now ex boyfriend left me because I was supposedly too emotional for all of them which meant that once again I was alone. Another suicide attempt and relapse later I was back in therapy, at this point I was just so tired and ready to give up. When junior year came I was beginning to question who I was as a person as well as why I was actually still here after four suicide attempts, in this thought process a fire began to grow inside of me as I though of all the things people had always told me I couldn’t do, but did them anyway. One of the things people told me i’d never accomplish was graduating high school because of my learning disability, the fire inside me grew even more and I set my sights on graduation. When graduation day came I remember my feeling of accomplishment as I walked across the stage and proved everyone wrong, proved to everyone that I wasn’t some charity case they needed to pity or worthless piece of trash that needed disposal, but an actual human being who has been to hell and back times then they can count and still managed to defy everything that was thrown at them. I stand here now a year out of high school with a job as I work towards becoming an actual adult, I may not have all the answers to every problem I will face, but I know one thing, I will fight and overcome whatever comes my way. I needed a hero and so that is what I became for myself and all I can hope for is that one day I can be one for someone else. This is my story, it’s not finished, in fact this is only the beginning and i’m excited to see where my life is taking me for the first time in my life because I know now with all these friends at my side who truly love me for me and support me I can do anything I put my mind to. Take this small bit of advice if you take anything from this, remember that at the end of the day you are your own person with your own voice! Make yourself heard, don’t just let people walk all over you like I did, and most of all remember it’s okay to ask for help even if you’re scared. Be somebody’s hero even if you’re your own.