#sorry to anyone who was here for star wars and is terribly betrayed by the discovery i mostly write goofy jane austen fanfic

[cheesenames]

Writing Patterns

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I was tagged by @batrachised, who I implore to go do the same thing with last lines of her fics 👀

Whatever bears affinity to cunning: Though Miss Bingley had initially proposed to take a turn about the room, Elizabeth did not protest when her hostess, seizing her arm, guided her out into the hallway.

by any other name: Colonel Fitzwilliam sighed heavily and braced himself as the manservant opened the door to his family’s townhouse.

a second chance, gotta grab it and go: Sheev Palpatine was having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Mercenary Miscommunications: Shortly after their arrival in town, the newlyweds were summoned to visit Mr. Darcy’s uncle, the Earl of —.

you're like my dad (you'd get on well): “Now hold on,” Bail Organa said with alarm, “Lord Vader, are you really going to let this man execute your daughter?”

Darth Plague-y Icks, who dies: Some said the galaxy began with a sneeze—that once, unfathomably long ago, a lonely purrgil had drifted across empty space, separated from its pod.

Far superior to the handsomest of her sex: By all accounts, Clarencia Simmons was a rather sensible girl—and so her father, the Earl of Cheddar, was fairly alarmed to find her sobbing uncontrollably in the breakfast room one morning.

With Silver Bells and Cockle Shells: The five Misses Bennet of Longbourn were pretty, good-natured girls.

2 Odious 2 Business: A single gentleman (in possession of a good fortune, an estate to pass on, and the looming prospect of his thirtieth birthday) must be in want of an heir, and for that he must first procure a wife.

So Long As Ye Both Shall Live: Colonel Barnaby Fitzwilliam, the future hero of a war that had yet not started, was dozing contentedly in a plush armchair in his mother’s third-favorite parlor, a glass of his father’s excellent armagnac on the little table beside him, when a frenzied pounding on the front door of his parents’ townhouse tore him from his slumber.

The two main things I'm noticing are my love of a side character or outsider POV and a tendency to jump in with as little background set-up as I can get away with. I also see that my Austen fics tend to start with much wordier/more meandering sentences than my Star Wars fics, but I feel like that style kind of rubbed off on my first ever Star Wars fic (Darth Plague-y Icks), which is mildly interesting.

I am no-pressure tagging @ozvezdja and anyone who actually opened the read more

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Okay but I would LOVE to here your heretical opinions on Padame if you ever want to share them or any of your other views on star wars prequel characters. Your character analysises are INCREDIBLE and really fun to read <3

Oh boy, are you sure about that? Well, the ask has been made so here, we, gooooooooooooooo!

Padme’s one of those strange characters who appears as one thing but in actuality is quite different. Because she appears as the first thing, and it’s something people really like, most people accept that at face value and if she’s not always consistent--well, she came from a series of screenplays written by George Lucas.

Padme comes across as a very noble, kind, and courageous character who is also quite politically savvy. At fourteen, against all odds, she saves her planet from invasion when the Senate did nothing, secured herself an ally in the chancellor (nevermind him being secretly Palpatine), and even after relinquishing her title as queen remains a major player in the senate for years and is seen as enough of a threat to warrant several assassination attempts (one so bad she has to be guarded by Jedi and sent home to Naboo for several weeks). 

And I’m not saying she’s not any of these things. Padme is very courageous, is one of those odd politicians who... believes she stands for what she believes in (more on this later), and has a remarkable political career.

However, she’s also romantic to the point of being completely and utterly delusional, self-centered, and frankly a little nuts.

(Yeah, you knew you were waiting for me to say something terrible, WEREN’T YOU?!) Right, so what’s wrong with Padme?

Well, if you look closely at a few of her choices, the ones that never seemed to make much sense, then you can look at her other choices and... Well, it all sort of comes together. 

That’s right, I’m talking about “Attack of the Clones” and “Revenge of the Sith”.

Attack of the Clones we have the very lackluster and strange romance of Anakin and Padme.

On Anakin’s end, his infatuation with Padme makes a lot of sense. She was part of the party that rescued him from slavery, she was very kind to him, and was the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his life. Ten years later, always having harbored a crush on her memory and keeping it alive through whatever news he hears of her, she’s grown into a very beautiful woman and Anakin is by chance introduced back into her life. I get why Anakin falls head over heels for Padme, I’ll get more into this later and how their relationship has some major issues (aside from the obvious), but I understand why he marries this girl out of nowhere even when it could get him thrown out of the Jedi. (As an aside, since this is more of a Padme post, I think Anakin was spurred on in part also by the death of his mother and his massacre of the Tusken Raiders. Anakin’s life was flipped upside down in a very short amount of time, one of his great emotional ties is suddenly gone, and I think he has this internal crisis that culminates in him deciding to marry Padme. Without this, he and Padme may have become lovers, but I don’t think he’d marry her).

On Padme’s end... it’s a little less clear. Anakin has grown into an attractive young man, yes. Take out all of George Lucas’ dialogue, and maybe Padme finds Anakin very charming. However, Padme secretly marries a Jedi she’s known for three weeks. Now, I’d be a bit more forgiving of this, love is love and we can’t always think rationally, but there’s some other things.

Unlike Anakin, Padme hasn’t been spending the past ten years romanticizing her memory of Anakin Skywalker. When they met in Phantom Menace, Anakin was not only five years younger than her, he was nine-years-old. To fourteen-year-old Padme, Anakin was not then dating material and was instead this poor boy in slavery. Which means while Anakin has build up justifying this rapid romance, Padme really doesn’t. What this means is that her romance with Anakin reads a lot more like a romantic fantasy. Cute dashing bodyguard shows up, saves her life, through contrived circumstances they’re sent back to beautiful Naboo where they spend time together, only cute bodyguard is a Jedi and can’t marry, which makes their love excitingly taboo! 

Everything Padme does, before and after this point, lends itself to this overdeveloped sense of romance. Padme wants to be whisked away, wants to have this secret unsustainable marriage with a man who cannot be married, she’s in love with the idea of being in love. Given how little time she spends with Anakin, how little they really know of each other, I’d say she’s more in love with the idea of Anakin than Anakin Skywalker himself. And this isn’t a bad thing necessarily, or at least not a grievous flaw, however, that’s not all. 

Padme chooses to marry Anakin knowing he murdered an entire village of men, women, and children. She marries him almost immediately after the massacre of the Tusken Raiders. Note, she does not learn about this later and have to come to terms with it, she is right there. She is on Tatooine with him and sees him go to do it and then return. 

Padme doesn’t take it... particularly well, that said, she also seems to shove it under the carpet immediately. She, first, marries Anakin within days after this event. She second, never really has a “holy fuck, Anakin” conversation with him. And worst yet, she never confesses to anyone else. Padme is a hypocrite and willing to sacrifice everything she believes in, albeit I believe unwittingly, for her romantic fantasy.

She tells no one about what happened. An entire village was brutally massacred, those who are already poor and oppressed and have no voice, by a man who is supposed to be a protector of all people in the galaxy. I’m sorry, Anakin, but if Padme was who you think she is then she would have to tell the Jedi Order at the very least if not the Republic. Instead, there are no consequences, only Anakin’s descent into guilt and madness as three years pass with it festering in the back of his mind.  Padme does not stand for the poor, for the people, or for justice. She only does so when it does not conflict with her own interests, i.e. her actions regarding the invasion of Naboo. More, I do not believe Padme has the introspection to realize this about herself, she never realizes that not narking on Anakin was very very very bad. Three years pass and she lives the whirlwind romantic fantasy that she and Anakin both want. They’re secret lovers/spouses, meeting up at the oddest hours of the day and... This is three years of this ridiculous affair. Three years to come to terms with the fact that something must change. And then the kicker, Padme gets pregnant, and this is where the extra delusional comes in.

The child should have been a signal of the end. There can be no more secret now. Padme is having a child, presumably out of wedlock, and even if space is very very very different from our society I imagine this would be quite the scandal that could even get her thrown out of the senate. I believe Padme mentions as much to Anakin. More, Anakin is no longer a lover, he is now a father. What’s supposed to happen now? They raise this secret child, instructing them that Anakin is only a father in private, never in public?

Anakin and Padme briefly flirt with the idea of Anakin leaving the order. Anakin even wants to do so, but it... never happens. Now is the time it absolutely should happen. Yes, Anakin’s a big part of the war effort, but he could at least start talking to the Order and they could decide if it’d be a slow or fast exit. 

My theory, Padme’s too in love with the fantasy. Anakin leaving means he’s no longer a Jedi, it means he’ll come to Naboo, be unemployed and be around. Anakin visiting will no longer be this romantic, fraught with the danger of being found out, passionate, short lived event for Padme. It’ll become real life. He’ll be a real, ordinary man, she’ll be a real, ordinary, woman, and that spark of romance will be gone.

I don’t think Padme wants that. 

Which is why, even with the child on the way, we see Anakin and Padme continue to play out this ridiculous secret lovers fantasy. And then, of course, Anakin goes insane off screen.

Padme is told that, once again, Anakin has murdered dozens of children. Of course, this is a terrible thing to be told and she can’t process it. She needs to find Anakin and confront him, but people always criticize Lucas here and feel it’s out of character for Padme to have run to Anakin in sobbing hysterics with no plan of enacting vengence.

Frankly, I think it’s very in character. She did nothing about the Tuskens, remember? I think at the end of the day, the murder of the Jedi children means very little to her. What hurts Padme the most is that the fantasy of Anakin she married is not real. The Anakin she married would never murder the Jedi children, betray the Republic, or do any of what he’s done. And I think Padme only has that strong, iron, will when she knows the world she’s in. With the Trade Federation, her stance was obvious. Her people were being oppressed, butchered, and invaded. In this case, the world she knew no longer exists.

The Republic is gone, perhaps hasn’t existed in thirteen years, as it turns out the senator who had always been her biggest supporter was a Sith Lord. The Jedi are gone, children murdered by Anakin while those in the field are picked off by their own clone soldiers. Padme’s world has fallen apart, and I think that makes it much harder for her to be the girl we saw in Phantom Menace. In time, perhaps, she would have joined the rebellion but... I do think Padme might have also given into despair.

So, yeah, that’s Padme for you.

[sidespart]

The Fall of Romulus Part 5

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue     Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4

The first time Virgil had seen Patton, it had been on the battlefield. The larger man was on his knees, three men wearing the same uniform as Virgil strewn around him, fresh blood gushing from deep gouges on his face. He’d looked up at Virgil like he expected to die, his eyes bright with relief.

The first time Virgil had seen Logan, he’d barely been more than a kid. Even skinnier than he was now, drenched to the bone in his threadbare apprentice robes and shaking with rage. He’d thrust a handful of coins across the table at Virgil and Patton, newly minted heroes for hire, and demanded they kill his master.

The first time Virgil had seen Roman, he’d been singing to a horse.

It wasn’t even his horse.

Virgil had wanted a break from the noise of the tavern and the simmering tension between his companions. But standing in the dark in an unfamiliar town had been unappealing and so he’d ducked into the taverns small stables. The hayloft was more of a glorified shelf, set close to the ceiling, but standing amongst the horses meant potentially having to explain himself to the horses’ owners and so he’d clambered up and shimmied his way into the narrow space, ducking down out of sight.

He just wanted a few minutes peace. Long enough to figure out what to do.

Logan had accepted a job. Without consulting either Patton or Virgil. It was a simple enough assignment -to transport a crate full of merchandise to a town on the other side of the mountain pass. So why could the townsfolk not deal with that themselves? Because the pass was full of bandits. Obviously.

Logan said they needed the money and he wasn’t wrong. Patton said they needed a break and he wasn’t wrong either.

They had been travelling from one skinflint town to the next for what felt like an age…but half the reason travel was taking so long was that right now they didn’t have enough coin to even to rent horses. Which meant Patton was going to end up dragging the gods-forsaken chest the entire way. Which was going to aggravate the hip injury- which he still refused to acknowledge existed - and leave all of them vulnerable to attack, since Logan wasn’t winning any fights unless it was a debate and Virgil…Virgil did better with the element of surprise.

Looming out of the darkness, his eyes glowing purple and his crossbow held aloft – Virgil had watched many an enemy turn tail and run at the sight of him with great satisfaction.

Actually aiming that crossbow, in broad daylight, at attacking bandits and successfully hitting one? That seemed less likely to be satisfying for anyone. Except maybe the bandits.

So now there was a stalemate, both Patton and Logan bristling at each other over their meal. Both waiting for Virgil to be the tiebreaker.

Hence the hiding in a hayloft.

Maybe if Logan had just talked to the them instead of making decisions for everyone-

“Who’s the prettiest girl in this stable? Is it you? I think it is!”

Virgil froze.

“My lady fair is pale as night and strong as all the stars that bright th- hey!” holding his breath, Virgil slowly turned his head until he could see the man below, who was currently trying to tug his sleeve out of the mouth of a blond mare. It was the bard from the tavern. Even without hearing his voice, the bright white outfit and ridiculously flouncy red jacket gave him away.

Virgil frowned. It was still relatively early in the evening and the bard had had a good audience – even Patton and Logan had looked away form their argument to appreciate his tune. Why leave now?

“Okay, okay you don’t like the classics.” The bard was back to petting the mare’s nose, “but you’re still stunning despite your terrible taste. And a beautiful horse deserves the most handsome of riders hmm?”

Virgil rolled his eyes and relaxed back against the hay. The movements of over the top performers were none of his business.

“That you singing back there?”

Virgil tensed again.

Two men were blocking the exit. Both big, broad and wearing matching insincere grins.

The one who’d spoken had a knife in his hand. The bard apparently didn’t notice and stepped away from the horse with his arms spread wide.

Under the dim shaft of moonlight spilling from the stable door, the silky material of the bards jacket seemed to shine.  It highlighted his pockets, where the thin material was sagging under the weight of his bulging coin pouch

“Always a pleasure to meet my fans!”

He gave them a cheeky bow, his pockets jingling as he moved.

Virgil resisted the urge to bang his head against the ceiling.

If this idiot wanted to get himself stabbed was it really Virgil’s responsibility to intervene?  What would Logan call this – natural selection?

“Must’ve made a pretty penny.”  It was the second man who spoke, he leaned carefully against the stable door as knife-guy stepped forward. “Nice voice like that.”

He looked pointedly at the bard’s jacket pocket. The bard took a half step back, almost disappearing from Virgil’s view.

“Your town is very generous.”

“Yeah. Good people” The second guy smiled. “Drop it.”

Virgil heard the bard sigh, deep and theatrical. But, much to Virgil’s relief, he threw the bag down on to the ground between them. Murder, Virgil was probably morally obligated to try to stop. But if the two robbers just took the bag and ran? Well. Patton was constantly asking Vigil and Logan to keep out of trouble so he could hardly disapprove.

Knife-guy grinned dumbly and reached down to his prize. Virgil tensed himself, he wasn’t going to be able to leap gracefully into action form his confined hiding place but he could potentially…roll onto the guy if he tried anything.

He didn’t get the chance.

As soon as the wannabe thief bent down the bard was on him. A blur of white and red shot out from beneath the hayloft, slammed the butt of a sword – had he always had a sword? – down on knife-guys skull sending him sprawling to the ground.

The second man let out a shout but before he had chance to take more than a step forward the bard was there, sword swinging though the air before coming to rest less than an inch from the man’s throat.

There was a pause whilst the man just gaped at the bard. Breathing heavily.

“You have a choice. Leave now, with your head still attached or…”

There was a yell and Virgil cursed himself for being distracted as knife-guy barrelled towards the pair, weapon raised high –

Only for it to instantly be knocked out his hand by the bard’s sword. The big man let out a high pitched yelp as blood spurted from where his fingers had been moments before, the knife clattering to the ground. The second man aimed a swing at the bards head but he dodged low, springing back up to deliver a punch of his own to the man’s throat, which left him gasping for breath.  

At this point, knife guy clearly decided he’d had enough, running for the door with his bleeding hand clutched close to his chest. The second thief, seeing his backup flee, shot the bard a venomous glare and hurried after.

And then there was quiet.

“Sorry about that.” Virgil startled – was he talking to him? “My precious babies.” No. The bard was heading back towards the horses, who had been remarkably unconcerned throughout his ordeal.  This gave Virgil his first proper look at his face.

He looked young. Not much older than Logan. And tired.

“Did those mean old robbers scare you?” he cooed “Not to worry – your hero is here to save the day!”

With the bard facing the horses, Virgil took the opportunity to squirm out of his hiding place, managing to land lightly enough on the stable floor behind him.

“Hey.” He said.

The hero’s shriek of surprise was so loud that the horses reared up in their stalls.

 After hasty explanations, Virgil had hired him as extra muscle for their trip. It’s wasn’t t an ideal solution, but the knowledge that there would be extra protection around for Logan and Virgil eased some of Patton’s tension. And since Sir Sing-A-Lot  had pissed off two would be thieves who were presumably still in town somewhere, he was willing to leave quickly and for cheap which suited Logan.

He met them the next day about a quarter mile out of town, performance outfit replaced with something moderately more travel worthy and sword strapped to his side. Virgil had suggested he stay the night at the tavern but he had shaken his head. Said if he went back in there the bartender would insist he stay to play another night – and then he’d have to let him down, which would be far too painful to bare.

Virgil privately thought skipping out halfway through the night was probably letting him down worse, but whatever. One mans loss is another man’s gain.

It was only when he’s was making the introductions that he realised Roman hadn’t brought his horse. Which led quickly to the realisation that there were three would be thieves in the stable that night.

Virgil spent most of the first day with his eyes fixed on Roman, waiting for him to betray them and skip off with the loot himself. But as the hours past and the bard did nothing suspicious he slowly started to relax.

It was only going to be three days.

***

Three years later, Virgil was growling to himself in his mother’s language as he swept his eyes across the room again, finding absolutely nothing. Not that he expected to -the small room wasn’t exactly flush with hiding places. All he had managed to unearth in the first frantic search was one of Roman’s notebooks, tossed under the bed with its leafy bookmark a few inches away. Patton had carefully put both away in his own coat pocket, a look of abject misery on his face as his hands ghosted over Romans drawings.

The thing was. It wasn’t like adding Roman to the group had instantly fixed everything.

But-

But Patton got sad sometimes. And Virgil, he’d been through a lot of the same stuff as the big guy but he didn’t know how to reach him when he got like that. Virgil was pretty sure he actually made things worse. But Roman – Roman distracted Patton without even trying half the time. He’d sing, weave a story out of nothing, disappear down a side street and reappear with a gaggle of kids and two puppies he seemingly conjured out of nowhere. The two of them had the same bright energy and when they got together they laughed loud enough to banish any shadow.

And Logan – Logan had this need to prove himself. All the time. He needed a challenge to throw himself against or he wilted. Patton hated arguing and Virgil frankly didn’t have the energy but Roman? Roman loved it. The two debated everything, from poetry to politics and threw themselves into preparation with more gusto than seemed healthy. The first big blow up they had, Virgil had looked over at Patton, panicked, before realising both men were grinning ear to ear. Relishing the debate in a way that Virgil didn’t really understand.

And as for Virgil himself…well actually he had always been perfectly fine and Roman basically drove him crazy.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was, the four of them worked better as a four. They balanced each other out. Even if they sometimes went too far and hurt each others feelings, they always apologised and moved on. And even if having four meant that their could never be a tiebreaker and every decision had to be discussed around and around until someone gave in…that was just what family was like.

And now Roman was just going to walk away from them? Without even saying goodbye?

Unacceptable.

“This is all my fault.” Patton wailed for third time. “I never should have left him alone.”

And on top of everything he’d upset Patton? Virgil was going to find their wayward bard and bring him home. And then kill him.

“Tell us what he said again.” Logan demanded imperiously, notebook and pen at the ready as he stared Patton down.

Virgil sighed and answered for him:

“He told him he wanted to leave the city. And now he’s left the city.”

Logan frowned. “The city gates are closed at sunset – unless he had a royal decree he would have been unable to leave last night.”

Virgil grit his teeth, “Okay, so, assuming he didn’t know that – because none of the rest of us knew that – he left the inn to try to leave the city.”

“So then why leave the inn at all?” Logan continued, pacing up and down the limited floor space and utterly ignoring Virgil “Why not just wait till morning? It makes no sense unless.” He paused at the window. “Unless he was taken against his will.”

Patton and Virgil exchange wide eyed looks. Virgil was normally the one jumping to worst case scenarios, not Logan. “You, uhh, you got any evidence for that one Lo?”

“He left his sword.” Logan pointed. “Amongst almost all his other possessions – he told Patton he wasn’t safe and then he leaves without taking a weapon? It’s illogical.”

“I’m not sure he was thinking logically.” Patton said softly, looking at Romans neatly piled possessions. “You didn’t hear him guys he – he sounded so scared.”

Virgil flinched. Fingers flexing uselessly. “Okay. Okay so. What spooked him? Something in the forest?” He asked, thinking guilty of Romans thorn scratched hands after he’d got himself lost trying to escape Virgil foul mood. “He was totally spaced out last night.”

“He seemed fine this morning.” Patton said  with a frown “Logan?”

“He was fine before we saw The Crone.” Logan murmured, “he was, if anything, too effervescent. But when we left he seemed…” he trailed off, adjusting his glasses before glaring defensively at both of them “he didn’t say anything so I can’t be sure – but, he was very quiet. The Crone was northern so I thought perhaps homesickness? But I don’t believe he was scared. Not until the episode.”

Virgil nodded, Logan had already described the episode – Romans sudden sprint through the city street and subsequent panic attack – in detail, although he’d been unable to pin point what had set him off.

“Um I’m sorry …The Crone?” Patton looked horrified, “Logan, do you mean our customer?”

“I. Uhm.” Despite everything Virgil couldn’t help but grin the flush of embarrassment that quickly took over Logan’s face. “She was from the North” Logan told them with great dignity, “Roman has told us many time that it is considered rude to ask a strangers name on first meeting.”

“But, did you…know she was form the North? Before you started calling her crone?” Virgil couldn’t resist teasing.

“Logan that is so rude!” Patton said, giving his best disappointed dad eyes.

“SO rude.” Roman ginned  “honestly Patton – Virgil - this kind of behaviour reflects poorly on you as parents. I personally think you should send him to bed without supper.”

And Patton laughed, a secretly pleased smile at being compared to a parent and Virgil rolled his eyes and shrugged Romans hand off his shoulder and Logan let out an offended humph before reminding Roman, again, that he was only a few years older than him and if he was a child Roman was too and a brat besides – an old and well-worn argument that made all of them laugh, tension broken.

Except it wasn’t. Because Roman wasn’t there.

Instead Patton’s exaggerated disappointment mellowed into real sadness as he glanced around the room again and Logan hunched his shoulders, burying his face in his notebook. Silence filled the room.

“I’m going to uh, look outside again.” Virgil jerked his thumb awkwardly to the door and set off without waiting for a response.

Definitely kill him, Virgil thought. Once they were sure he was okay.

**

Apart from his unusual eye colour, pointed ears and a youthful complexion well into his thirties, Virgil had inherited very little from his mothers people. But his night vision was undeniably better than his fully human companions.

Not that it was doing him much good right now. Didn’t matter how good your eye sight was if there was nothing to see.

It was easy enough to track Roman from the open window, down the wall of torn climbing plants to the ground, but after that the trail immediately went cold. If this was a small town with a dirt road there would at least be footprints, but on the cobblestone streets of the well-to-do there was nothing to follow.

He could be anywhere.

Virgil kicked a pebble with a snarl, sending it clattering across the square. Reluctantly he started to prepare himself for the long climb back up to their room, when he was distracted by a faint whinnying.

The tavern connected to stables.

Huh.

Well….he knew Roman had been prepared to steal a horse before…

Quietly, Virgil slipped around the corner and into the stables. This was a far cry from the glorified shack where he had first met Roman. The ‘stables’ was more of a courtyard, with various coaches and waggons parked in the centre, and an enormous number of stalls ringing the outside. Virgil guessed it was shared between the tavern and the several other buildings that bordered the square.

His heart began to race.

He hadn’t really expected to see much – how would he know, after all, if a horse was missing? But with this much money in one place, there had to be a guard. Someone who might have seen Roman pass through.  

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his expectations low, and began to search.

**

“Virgil. Did you kidnap a child?!”

Virgil winced. The force of Patton’s disappointed dad glare was a lot less funny when it was directed at him. “I mean,” he tried “is it kidnapping? She lives here! It’s not that bad!”

“I would say it’s significantly worse that calling a woman a crone in the privacy of your own head.” Logan muttered under his breath. Virgil glared at him.

“And I don’t live here,” the girl offered brightly “I just work in the stables.”

They were in the inn’s kitchen. Somewhere that they were absolutely not allowed to be. But between cancelling the promised performance, negotiating a week’s stay in an already overbooked establishment and then almost immediately afterwards cancelling that too and the panicked interrogation of the few remaining customers when they’d first discovered Roman missing; Virgil didn’t think the inn’s landlord could really get more irritated with them.

Although the whole kidnapping thing was probably not going to help.

“Here you go sweetheart.” Patton said, pushing a mug of sweet tea towards the girl and taking a seat next to her. He did not offer Virgil or Logan a cup.

“Thanks Mister Pat!” She smiled sweetly up at Patton before turning away from him and sticking her tongue out at Virgil. Virgil gestured wildly between the girl and himself but Patton just sipped his own drink, nose in the air.

Virgil slumped in his chair, glowering.

He’d found her sleeping in one of the empty stable stalls. The space was clearly being used as a hut for the stable boy – or in this case girl – with a small wooden bed pushed against the back wall and a desk covered in half cleaned riding gear near the entrance.

Elated to have found a possible lead he had rushed towards the bed and shaken the occupant awake immediately. And released in one horrifying instant that he was a fully grown man shaking a literal child who probably couldn’t even see him in the darkness.

She yelled.

He yelled.

She threw a horseshoe at his head.

He had managed to bundle her half way back to the inn - one hand clamped over her mouth despite the fact that she was biting him - before Patton appeared, ripping them apart with a growl and then blinking a Virgil in complete confusion when he realised who the would be kidnapper was.

“I – we – just want to ask you some questions.” Virgil said in his calmest I-am-not-deranged-I-have-just-had-a-very-long-day voice “Okay, um, sweetheart?”

All three of them stared at him.

“’Sweetheart’ sounds odd when you say it.”

“I know it does Lo’.”

“It might be the tone of voice.”

“I know it is, Lo’.”

“I’m Lucy.” Said the girl. Lucy sat back in her chair, swinging her legs back and forth. “Are you gonna’ pay me? The last guy gave me five gold pieces.” she grinned at them expectantly.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Okay well, that’s ridiculous.”

“We don’t have much money.” Patton told her, “but I can make you another tea?” She considered him for a minute but was clearly already besotted with her ‘rescuer’, so she just smiled and held out her mug.

“Now,” Patton asked gently as he poured a refill. “What guy is this?  And���what did he ask you to do for that kind of money?”

She shrugged, unconcerned. “Just some rich guy. He wanted to know how many people had come in today, and then for me to let him hang around in my hut until his friend got there.”

“So you left your post?” Logan said disapprovingly. “What time did he arrive? What did he do? What friend was he meeting?”

“He paid me five gold pieces so he could sit in a shed” she told him. “If the guy wanted a horse he could have just bought one. And I just went and sat on the roof anyway, the market was way too busy.”

“Smart.” Virgil said. She glared at him, just long enough to let him know that his approval meant nothing, before continuing.

“He came just after four o’clock, that’s when Tommy goes home and I take over. And he didn’t do anything. Just sat there all grouchy. Then he left with the pretty guy.”

“Pretty?” Logan asked sharply, making Lucy giggle.

“Yeaaaah he had pretty eyes and a lute and really cute short hair. He was way better looking than the rich guy. I think he was a musician.” She sighed.

The three men glanced at each other, excitement building.

“Was he being taken by force?” Logan asked, steepling his hands “Could you see any sign of a struggle? Was he restrained in some way?”

“Logan don’t scare the kid for fucks sake.”

“Oh sorry, the one you kidnapped?”

“Guys.” Patton’s glare quelled them both into silence. Lucy took a long sip of tea, thinking before answering.

“He just walked up to him and they left together right away. I couldn’t hear nothin' but, they didn’t have time to say more than hello before they left.”

“So much for that theory.” Virgil muttered, disappointment settling in his chest. Not that he wanted Logan to be right, that Roman had been taken away by force but- this meant he really had just decided to leave them.

Logan wasn’t convinced. “A physical struggle is not necessarily required to move someone against their will – he could have been coerced.”

“How coercive can you be in one sentence??”

“If he was lying in wait and recognised him instantly the obviously we can assume they knew each other.” Logan told him snottily “Groundwork could have been laid beforehand.”

Virgil frowned, he hadn’t thought of that. But Roman hadn’t arrived until well past four – how had the mystery man known to come to this particular inn?

“Can you tell us anything about the first man?” Patton asked Lucy, “What he looked like or – ooh how about you draw a picture of him!” he produced Romans notebook from his pocket and opened it too a blank page.

“He was just some old rich guy,” she insisted “he was wearing one of those fancy patchwork coats. Pink and blue, and he had dark hair…” she shrugged. ”I don’t remember anything else, sorry Mister Pat.”

“What about an emblem?” Logan asked.

“What’s that?”

“A symbol of his house. Lots of rich people have them, maybe on a bit of jewellery or embroidered on his clothing?”

“He had a cape clasp with a pattern on it.” She said doubtfully, “it wasn’t fancy though just- here – “ she took the note book from Patton and hastily scribbled three interlocking Vs, the largest in the centre.

“We can go to the library and look for it when they open.” Logan told them brightly “If it’s one of the noble houses in the city we should be able to find an address.”

“And we can go see the cro – the customer too” Patton added putting a hand on the scholars shoulder, “Logan says Roman seemed down after they left- she might know something.”

“Right.” Virgil nodded absently.

“One of us should go to the city gates before they open,” Logan continued, “If he still intends to leave the city we can watch for him there.”

Virgil thought of the hordes of people making their way through the city gates. Spotting one man in amongst that throng was going to be near impossible. And even if they found a symbol that matched the child’s drawing, there was no guarantee they would be able to track down the owner. And from Logan's description, Roman hadn’t left his sight whilst they were at The Crones house, what could she possibly tell them that they didn’t already know?

And even if they found him. What good was that, if he truly wanted to leave? It’s not like they could order him to stay.

He felt one large, warm hand land on his shoulder and squeeze gently. “We’ll find him.” Patton told him reassuringly. At the table, Logan was scribbling in his note book again, eyes bright with excitement as he continued the barrage of questions at an amused looking Lucy.

Virgil nodded, and did his best to smile back.

It had been a long week on top of a long month of traveling, and none of their leads were things they could follow right now. They needed to sleep. Get enough rest for a full day of bard hunting in the morning.

And then, well.

If Roman wanted to leave he could leave.

But he was going to damm well explain himself to his family first.

Virgil glanced at Lucy who was watching them with open curiosity.

“I don’t suppose we could convince you not to mention the whole…kidnapping thing to the land lord right?”

She smiled at him. “That’s gonna cost you more than tea.”

Vigil sighed.

chapter 6 

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding Part VI - Star Wars Time Travel AU

Part I - - - - -  Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V 

Anakin watched Obi-Wan through the stalks for several minutes. He could see him kneeling at the base of the waterfall, occasionally glancing around, as if searching for someone. Just when he was about to break and interrupt him, Obi-Wan stood and walked over. They sat together on the low bench, surrounded by the carefully cultivated colored fungi. 

“Obi-Wan...maybe we should talk about what’s going on with you. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.” Anakin offered hesitantly.

Obi-Wan tensed, hands clenching in his lap. 

“No.” 

“Master Windu and Bant both seemed to think this isn’t a drug thing. Please, let-”

“That wasn’t what I was saying no to.” 

Obi-Wan stood and began threading a path through the mushrooms, careful not to step on any of the smaller ones. Anakin was forced to follow directly in his footsteps, not wanting to risk damaging something Obi-Wan clearly seemed to care about, but wishing he could look at his Master’s face.

“Did I ever tell you about Bruck Chun?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No. Who’s Bruck?” Anakin responded with deliberate patience.

“He was an old crechemate of mine, quite gifted, though he had a temper. There have been times you remind me of him. We were rivals.” They were approaching the end of the alcove, a large stone overhang throwing them in to shadow.

“Were?”

“He died. When we were twelve.”

When they reached the rock face, Obi-Wan started climbing straight up. Anakin followed. Several clicks above the floor, Obi-Wan squeezed his way into a narrow crack, invisible from the floor below. Anakin followed. They awkwardly shuffled along the passage until Obi-Wan suddenly dropped out of sight. Anakin followed.

They landed in a hidden alcove. It was half lit by sunlight filtering in from cracks above, and half lit by the glow of mushrooms and crystals tenaciously embedded in the rock face around.

“Oh.” Anakin said softly. “Is this where you go when you visit the fountains to meditate?”

“No, I hadn’t been here in years.” Obi-Wan answered wistfully. “I started getting too big, didn’t want to damage the passageway too much. I figured some other younglings would stumble upon it someday like I did. I’m sorry. I avoided this room for the first year or two of your padawanship. By the time I even thought to share it, you had already grown so big...”

He sat down, legs stretched out in front. Anakin sat next to him, mirroring his position.

“I’m glad you’re sharing it with me now.” Anakin smiled reassuringly, but Obi-Wan was staring ahead blankly.  

The young knight swallowed nervously. “Did you...come here with Bruck?”

Obi-Wan let out a snort. “Gods, no! I hid here from him. Before we were rivals, he bullied me relentlessly.”

“And...this is the guy you said I remind you of?” Was he being insulted?

“At times. Math lessons, saber practice, none of that ever came easy to me. But you and him...you never even needed to study. And you do have a vicious streak, Anakin.”

Rather than try to argue in vain against the slight hurt, Anakin just asked, “How did he die?”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes. “He fell.” 

Anakin jerked in surprise, “Wait, you mean-”

“We were fighting at the top of the waterfall- it- he had nearly killed Bant. He was angry that we both had been chosen by Masters, and Xanatos used that to manipulate him into helping with an attack on the temple. Bruck was lashing out. He was a better swordsmen, but his anger made him unbalanced. I knocked him back. And he fell. I’ve forgotten a lot of details about him as a person, but I still remember his body at the bottom of the falls.”

"That’s...awful. I’m sorry.” Anakin said helplessly. He had known the bare basics of Xanatos’s fall, but clearly not the full story.

Obi-Wan sighed, leaning slightly to press their shoulders together. Anakin scootched over to try and provide a little extra silent comfort.

“I thought I had learned to live with my guilt over my part in what happened to him, but I suppose recent events have torn open old scars, so to speak.”

Anakin held his breath, Obi-Wan didn’t add anything else. 

“Obi-Wan” he tried to nudge gently. 

“Hmm?”

Anakin lost his patience, jumping up. “Master, please!” He half yelled, looming over his Master. A flash of fear crossed Obi-Wan’s expression as he looked up, which immediately halted the fit of rage. 

He knelt down penitently, “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan, I shouldn’t have yelled, but please, let me help. I won’t get mad like that again, I swear. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

“You’re not.” Obi-Wan whispered, expression blank. He shuddered all over, fists clenching tightly.

“You’re NOT here for me!” Obi-Wan shouted, suddenly offended. “How can you POSSIBLY claim to be there for anyone after what you-” Obi-Wan seemed to choke on the words. He let out a strangled cry and pulled his knees up to his chest. Tears welled, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Anakin stared wide-eyed, cold all over. “This...this is about something I did. I don’t understand. You... told me a few hours that I’m dear to you, what...what could I have done since then to make you...I don’t understand.”

“You know what you did.” Obi-Wan let out. “And the fact that learning about it didn’t stop me from caring about you doesn’t help, it just makes the heartbreak a thousand times more painful.”

Anakin racked his brain wildly. This couldn’t be about his marriage with Padme, right? He told him this morning that he didn’t mind the sneaking off. There was only one screw-up big enough that could possibly warrant this severe a reaction, and only two people alive knew about that, both sworn to secrecy.

“The younglings,” Obi-Wan whispered. “You - you didn’t even spare the younglings.” Obi-wan looked gutted, terrified. 

Anakin felt like he had been dropped in ice water. This was- this was his worst fear- that Obi-Wan would learn about his darkest failing as a Jedi and be ashamed of him, angry at him, would abandon him. He had already made his judgement. How could he have even learned about about the Tuskens?

“Padme-” he breathed out. “Padme told-”

“No!” Obi-Wan denied desperately, lurching forward. “Padme would never betray you! I would never betray you! We both love you, Anakin. Please, some part of you must know that! You must!”

His master seemed frantic, fingernails digging painfully into Anakin’s arm.

“You love me?” Anakin asked brokenly, heart cracked open.

Obi-Wan let go of Anakin to curl in on himself again. He seemed very small. It hurt to look at.

“I think its safe to say at this point that there’s nothing you could, no betrayal or atrocity you could commit that would make me stop loving you. Despite what you’ve done, you’re my brother, my son- of course I love you. The fact that I led you to doubt my love for you might be my greatest failing, though there are so many its hard to really say.” Obi-Wan sounded utterly defeated.

Anakin’s heart was pounding. This was a nightmare and a childhood dream. Obi-Wan loved him unconditionally, but he knew about his slaughter of the Tusken's and was ashamed. This couldn’t be real. He can’t know.

“Palpatine-” Anakin tried to ask.

Obi-Wan growled. “I do not need to talk about how that power-hungry liar systematically worked to tear us apart. I want to know why you would-” he cut himself off again.

Palpatine told Obi-Wan- that was more than he could even begin to process.

"I’m sorry, Master. I’m so sorry for failing you.” The words came desperately tumbling out, “I was just- I was so angry about my mom’s death and-”

“Your mother’s death? You killed innocent children for the sake of your Mother?! I don’t- how could anyone possibly rationalize-” Obi-Wan hissed out, truly angry for the first time that day. He took a deep breath and pulled himself upright.

“Your mother’s death was a terrible tragedy and I will forever regret my role in it. I should have tried harder to free her, for her own sake. I was so afraid that if I pushed for permission with the council they would think I was failing you, and they would take you from me. I made- so many decisions out of attachment, out of fear of losing you, and in the end I hurt you so badly you couldn’t trust me. You didn’t trust me with the truth of your visions, so I gave you bad advice born of misunderstanding, and your mother died horribly. I- I can see how you would blame the Jedi for that, even if its not rational. I certainly understand why you would blame me for that, why you would hate me because of her death.”

Obi-Wan scrubbed at his face mercilessly, practically tearing skin in his haste to wipe away snot and tears.

“But why, if you were getting revenge, would you kill the children and not me?” “Why couldn’t you just kill me and be satisfied?” He finally looked straight at Anakin, asking like it was a real question.

Anakin was horrified. After a few false starts he finally choked out, “Master, I love you. I told you, you’re the closest thing I have to a father. You’re the last person I could ever kill.”

“The last person you could ever kill,” Obi-Wan echoed back, looking pained.

“Please, Master, tell me how to fix this. I want to make things right. How can I fix things?” Anakin begged.

“That’s not a fair question. You can’t unmurder people. You can’t put them back together like a- an engine or a droid- ”

“There has to be something I can do to make you forgive me!” Anakin said desperately. “You can’t just tell me you love me and then say I’m an irredeemable monster!”

“Well that’s an entirely different matter, though no less cruel to think about.”

He leaned into Anakin’s side once more, the press providing a hint of warmth even in the unshakable cold. “Anakin, it isn’t very rational or fair of me, but it wouldn’t really take that much to get me to forgive you. Kriff, if you just acted sorry for what you had done.” Obi-Wan sighed.

“If you told me that you regretted the lives you took and swore you were going to stop murdering, force help me, I’d probably take you back in an instant. All I ever wanted was to help you be the best version of yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” Anakin said immediately. “I’m so, so sorry for what I did. I lost control of myself because I was scared, and angry, and suffering and, and then I was so scared that you would hate me that I pretended it was ok, and I told myself that they deserved to die, but how could children ever deserve to die and please Master I’ll throw away my lightsaber just please, please don’t leave me, I need you, please-” and the rest of the words dissolved into large, ugly sobs.

Obi-Wan keened and pulled Anakin into his lap like he was a child again. Anakin scrabbled at his cloak, desperately trying to hold on. The terrible chill that had been haunting him slowly started to fade away as he was rocked back and forth. 

After a minute, Anakin got enough of a hold on himself to consider trying to stop blubbering like a crecheling on his Master’s robes. But he quickly realized that Obi-Wan was also crying, so instead threw his arms around the older man and let himself go.

An uncertain amount of time passed before they both slowed from heaving sobs, to dry hiccups, to quiet whimpers. Eventually they ended up laying in a heap, boneless but for their hold on each other. And finally, the cavern was more or less silent.

Anakin felt physically lighter, mind clear like he had just completed an extremely successful meditation session.

Without a word, they slowly shifted so they were leaning on the wall instead of sprawled on the ground. Obi-Wan pulled his robe off, first using it to wipe his face, then tenderly cleaning his Padwan’s. 

Anakin just chuckled. 

Obi-Wan threw the robe so it covered the two of them, which was a little gross, but that only made Anakin snort giddily. 

They sat there peacefully for sometime. The shadows from above started shifting, and Obi-Wan sighed, “I really should go eat something.”

Anakin sighed back at him in agreement. They both stretched in the small space, joints popping.

“Do you need to walk through the rest of the gardens first?” Anakin asked.

“No,” Obi-Wan replied, tenderly fussing with his kid’s hair and robes so they looked presentable. “This was...more than I could have hoped for.”

Anakin beamed, giving Obi-Wan one last quick hug before gesturing upwards. “Time to get back to the real world?” he joked with a hint of regret.

“Time to get back to the real world.” Obi-Wan repeated heavily.

Part VII

[astridthevalkyrie]

Do you think AOT is better than FMAB?

sorry not sorry for the blunt answer but no, never, not in a million years, not even close, not for a number of reasons.

few reasons under the cut, because apparently I’m doing this instead of focusing in class. obviously there will be spoilers for both shows, and obviously some of this will be based on personal preference.

1. Genocide/Oppression

so both shows have some vivid imagery of nazi germany. bradley is addressed as the fuhrer in fmab, and the eldians wear stars on their sleeves in aot. and even if the aot writer wasn’t pretty much confirmed to be a nationalist and raging anti-semite, it’s rather painfully obvious which show handles it better.

in aot, the eldians are oppressed because they can turn into titans and were originally trying to take over the world or something, which is so blatantly anti-semitic that it’s terrible. shows are allowed to tackle these kinds of topics, but they should handle them well, not be a stand in for nazi propaganda. this is something so many fucking shows do wrong whenever they make an oppressed group of people - there’s always somehow a reason for having them be oppressed. take bbc merlin. wizards are oppressed because they can do magic and so they’re dangerous, just like how eldians can turn into titans and so they’re dangerous, and that’s a bad thing to imply, because it implies that jewish people somehow deserved what happened to them and that’s a fucking dangerous idea to put into an already anti-semitic world.

and that’s exactly why i was so relieved and appreciative of how fmab did the battle of ishval. it is clear who the bad guys are in that scenario, and it’s clear that it was never deserved and that the soldiers who carried it out are war criminals and deserve to be put into jail. riza says as much herself. while i think scar shouldn’t have been as guilted as he was (sure, he shouldn’t go after innocent people, but him killing winry’s parents is not comparable to what happened to him and doesn’t put all of them on equal footing), i was pleasantly surprised that he lived and wasn’t killed off in some stupid form of “redemption.” if roy deserved to live, so did scar, a hundred times over.

2. Characters

characters in fmab are done ridiculously better than in aot. let’s compare similar characters!

edward and eren - the protagonists

up until the third season onwards, eren is very one dimensional and uninteresting. he’s entertaining, but his one and only goal is killing the titans and it’s super frustrating because they lay down the groundwork for more, but it’s never really addressed. show more how he cares about his friends, show him dealing with his trauma through anger and how it’s unhealthy. (actually, a lot of problems could be fixed if they showed more of the cadets’ training days. i feel like i wasn’t feeling as betrayed by annie and reiner and bertholdt because i never really felt they were that close to eren.)

ed is a delightful main character. he too is angry and doesn’t mind talking with his fists, but at the same time, he’s starchly against killing anyone and has multiple goals. ofc his primary one is getting their bodies back, but when he finds himself in the conspiracy about amestris, he doesn’t hesitate before making that his problem as well. every relationship he has is wonderful. i could get bored with eren on the screen, i wasn’t bored with ed.

armin and alphonse - the deuteragonists

i’m sorry but armin is literally just “the smart one.” that’s it. he’s also the dreamer but it only comes up when they’re about to do something dangerous.

i feel like i don’t even need to go into how good of a character al is? he’s very obviously multifaceted and the epitome of sweet and badass at the same time.

winry and mikasa - the love intests-ish

i don’t like referring to either of them like that, but while mikasa is the tritagonist (or deuteragonist, her and armin can interchange there), winry is not. 

and surprise, surprise, this is actually where i’m not so sure winry comes out on top. mikasa is, in my opinion, the most interesting out of the trio. she also has a very single-minded goal, but seeing her interact with other characters (armin, jean, levi) who either fall in line or disagree with that goal is fun to watch. she’s also obviously super competent and i have a thing for competent characters.

winry is a good character and i love her, but it’s always bothered me how out of place her scenes feel in relation to the entire show. and as much as i know it doesn’t deter her agency, there’s just something off about ed telling her to have an apple pie waiting for them. it actually brings in one of my few problems with fmab. while its female are pretty good, they’re far from perfect, and that’s because nearly all of them exist because of their relation to the more important male character. winry is ed’s mechanic and the elrics’ family friend. riza is roy’s lieutenant. lan fan is ling’s bodyguard. izumi is the elrics’ teacher. i’m not saying that’s all they are, but this is a major part of their role in the story (olivier and mei stand out as female characters with goals relating to themselves and not a guy around them.)

so who’s the better character? mikasa is more fierce and winry has better lines that aren’t just calling out the protag’s name. i’m gonna give it to winry, but by a short shot.

roy and levi - the op fan favorites

this one’s much easier. roy is not just a badass who’s also the hero’s direct superior like levi is, he’s a person with clearcut goals and weaknesses and he has to make sacrifices and work for what he wants. levi has all the makings for a great character, a tragic backstory and a chill personality, but he doesn’t have a reason to stay in the scouts, he just...does. out of loyalty to erwin, i guess? it’s not clear and it’s even worse if you don’t watch the ova. roy’s reasons are clear and relatable. he also has a dorky and endearing side, plus the political side of things he brings to fmab is interesting and an equally important part of the story. his fight with envy is satisfying and thrilling. levi’s fight with the beast titan, while it is super well animated and cool, kiiiinda falls flat because there was no set-up for him being the one to take the beast titan down (should have been connie). it also ends a bit too fast, honestly.

but hey, you say, aren’t you the one writing 15k worth of fanfiction for levi within two weeks? didn’t see you writing that much for roy. yeah, well, unfortunately, my attraction doesn’t determine the better character and i never said i was proud of this, please leave me alone.

there’s more comparisons i could make - carla and trisha, hohenheim and grisha (ha, trisha and grisha rhyme), roy can also be compared to erwin, there’s multple side characters, but fmab wins, you guys get it.

3. The Story, Plot, Deaths

listen, i get it. aot is a bloody, brutal show and you’re not supposed to get attached to characters. i’m not gonna complain about pointless deaths, because that in itself is the point. it’s like twd or got, it’s gonna have lots of death. but the deaths don’t have to be so stupid. i’m specifically thnking of levi’s squad, because the way they die is so dumb. gunther should not be taken down by a cadet, petra shouldn’t be flying so close to the ground, oluo should know not to engage the female titan alone. these were elite titan killers, they knew not to be stupid. there were ways to kill them off without making them look so stupid. and if there’s not, consider not killing them off just for shock value.

fmab’s deaths mean something, especially since one of its central messages is that life is precious, no matter whose it is. everyone’s life means something and no one dies in vain.

.

there’s more i could go into, but i just spent my entire classtime doing this and now my second one for the day is about to start, sooo i think i’ll stop here. thanks for the ask!

[greenygreenland]

Dawn: Garmadon and Wu x Reader

-sorry this took so long, I was trying to generate ideas I liked, but then writers’ block was like

~no~

Summary (given to me by @minneholmes): What about “in the period of garmadon and wu’s adult years (the anacondrai wars) where reader is trying to keep all the elemental masters together?” The reader could be a childhood friend or a significant other of one of the brothers.

You knew nothing lasted forever, but this? This was it. The final and only breaking point left to snap was this. The Elemental Alliance had been solid. It was like Earth, rigid, unyielding, and whole. Now, it lay in shambles, leaving you with nothing save for suffering. 

The war would end soon, you thought. But not in your favour or anyone else  beside those slithering pieces of slime. You sighed, running a hand through your hair as Wu have your shoulder a good squeeze. “There was nothing left to be done.” he said. You sent him a glance, shrugging off his hand with a frown. 

“There’s ‘nothing left to be done’?” You were beyond angry. Angry at yourself, at how stupid you had been, at how badly everything had turned out to be. Your eyes stung with hot tears but you didn’t care, you had to yell, had to let the universe know just how angry you were. 

“Wu, if we had been more alert, then we all would have seen it coming! We shouldn’t have trusted the word of our own, no matter how tight knit we are. That was how they got us. We were fooled by our own blind belief in each other!” You grasped the sides of your head, ruffling your hair and extending the gap between you and Wu. “I don’t care what we do next. I’d rather die than lose to the anacondrai! I will not bow down to them. Never.” 

You couldn’t see through the tears blurring your vision. You were just so angry at everything and anything that came in your way because nothing was supposed to turn out like this, nothing was supposed to not get better. You were tired. Tired of it all. “There’s--there’s nothing left to do Wu and I...I don’t know how we can win when we...” 

Suddenly, warm arms pulled you in fast. They were warm, comforting, and loving. You hadn’t hugged anyone in a while, not since the start of the War that left you scraping over war plans for days. There was no time for sentiment when anyone could die any moment. 

The last rays of sun shone over Wu’s golden locks, illuminating the precious colours over your cheeks. Wu was the very embodiment of light. He practically exuded it wherever he went. 

“When I was young,” he tenderly began, “my father always told me to have faith. Forever, that is what I will hold onto, and for that reason, I will never admit defeat until I know it to be the right path.” Your knees began to give out and Wu crumpled to the floor by your side, arms still tightly secured around your shoulders. 

“When we walk, it will never be in a straight line, so when we face adversary and hardship, we must never lose faith in ourselves or those around us. I know hope may be lost, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find it again.” You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in his shoulder. “Wu, I--I’m falling apart. I can’t...I can’t do this...” 

“Yes you can.” he affirmed. “You’re strong, so much stronger than you know.” 

You sat there in the quiet courtyard for a while longer, savouring the comfort that encased your soul. Maybe he was right, maybe he wasn’t. You wouldn’t know, not until you were sure the war could be won. 

When you had finally calmed, Wu glanced at the purple sky mashing with pink and blue. “It’s getting dark.” he gently said. “Do you want to go inside?” You shook your head. “I think I’ll stay a while longer.” He nodded in understanding, giving your elbow a pat. “Good night (Y/n). There’s dinner on the stove and tea on the counter if you want some. Get some sleep.” He glanced at the dark circles under your eyes. “Please.” 

You watched as Wu made his way to the doors and slid them open. For a moment, warm, yellow light engulfed your figure with warmth. But as soon as it came, it disappeared, along with Wu and his comforting smile. You rested your head in your knees, and for an eternity, you sat in the fading light, allowing the darkness to consume you until the stars and moon decided to enter the stage. 

You knew it hadn’t really been an eternity, but it could have been. You were drowning in your mistakes, your misplaced steps that could have led to victory. The broken alliance was left in shards, shards you could never piece together. 

“Hey.” 

You lazily opened your eyes, squinting at the small lantern that burned through the night. “Garmadon.” Your voice was soft, nearly lost to the wind. It was a miracle he heard it, and another that he allowed a smile to reach his lips. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Drowning in my own sins.” 

Garmadon set the lantern at his feet and plopped down by your side. He leaned against the wall, allowing his head to fall back so he could gaze at the stars. “You didn’t show up for dinner. Are you hungry? Or has that urge been drowned too?” You chuckled a little at his lame attempt at a joke. 

“You look better when you smile.” he boldly admitted. “Keep it that way.” You ignored the heat rising to your cheeks. “Garmadon--”

“When we were younger, you used to smile all the time. So much that your cheeks hurt. I called you stupid for that, but now I wish I hadn’t.” He let out a long sigh, and you realised that he was reliving memories of the past. Garmadon was hard to read compared to Wu, but it was times like this that you knew what he was thinking just by feeling. 

“Something is on your mind.” you blurted. Garmadon glanced at you and then back at the stars. He fiddled with the edge of his sleeves. “Even if I am, it’s not important.” He turned to face you head-on. “Talk. You’re not okay and I will not sit here watching you fall apart.” You bumped his shoulder, almost playfully. “I’m alright. I’ll get through this like I always do.” 

“’Like I always do’.” Garmadon scoffed. “This is a battle you can’t win on your own. No matter how strong you are. Nothing was your fault, no matter how you look at it.” 

There was a long beat of silence that stretched for seconds, then minutes and more. You didn’t know what to say, and maybe that was because there was nothing to say. Garmadon was right. First Spinjitzu Master did you hate when he was right. 

“The Time Twins were the key,” you quietly stated. “They were the first step that caused doubt to spread between all of us. Garmadon, who do we trust? What if they managed to convince other Masters to turn? Then what can we do? We are all filled with doubt, and that doubt is more powerful than any army. I said it once and I’ll say it again, we are losing.” 

Garmadon didn’t say anything. 

He was supposed to be the smart one. The solid boy who you looked to for ideas and support when you had none. This time? All he gave you was a look of uncertainty. Shivers ran down your spine.

---

A brand new day. A brand new dawn. Your stomach grumbled, and you knew it was because you had skipped dinner and breakfast. It was a terrible coping mechanism you did under stress, something that would later come to bite you in the back. 

But you couldn’t worry about that now. You had a duty, as the Master of Aether, to the last of the Alliance. 

You could practically feel the doubt coursing through the Master of Ice’s veins as you passed him. He had his arms crossed, and his lips pursed so paper thin. “How can we win without the Time Twins?” he inquired. “They were our most powerful allies, and now, I do not believe we stand a chance.” 

The Master of Lightning ran a hand through her thick hair with a sigh. “I can only hope we win this. They have all the time in the world they need, all while controlling it and everything. What do we have? Just the last of us. And even if we do win, how do you restrain two Masters of Time?”

You paused in your step, flicking your katana a few times to ease your nerves. You carefully listened as they continued talking amongst themselves. 

We can’t do this...

We can’t win without them...

How do you beat time?

We’re going to lose.

It’s over. 

It’s all over.

Suddenly, as if you had been struck by the Master of Lightning herself, you froze. Everything became clear, and it was then that you knew you had to do something. Even if you doubted your own abilities, your own allies, and everything Ninjago had to offer, you couldn’t sit around and watch it unfold.

You had to be there for the Alliance when no one else could. You had to mend the broken pieces, even if it was one by one.

You turned to the Alliance gathered in small groups. They mingled with each other, discussing the latest battle plans or complaining about how this was ‘the end. “Excuse me!” you called. “Can I have everyone’s attention!” 

The Masters all turned to you, eyes wide in bewilderment. 

“Don’t tell me we’ve been betrayed again. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the Master of Lightning’s fault. She has a big mouth anyway.” 

You didn’t care who said that; you’d chew him out if you saw him again after the battle. “I know we all feel doubtful,” you glanced at the guy who complained a second ago. “But that does not mean we can accuse each other of betrayal! If you want to continue doubting each other, then fine. If Ninjago falls, then I know I can blame someone other than myself. This is our last stand. We cannot let the Anacondrai win! Not when there are families--mothers, fathers, children who rely on us! We cannot fail them. Not this time. 

“Someone told me to have faith,” you glanced at Wu, “and that when we walk, it will never be in a straight line. This...setback, this betrayal, will not hinder us further. Today is a new day, meaning new beginnings, and new opportunities. We are strong, but only as our weakest link. Together,” you glanced at Garmadon, “we must mend what has been broken, and triumph for the Alliance! For all of Ninjago!”

You heaved in a deep breath. 

“So let this be our last stand, and together, let there be another dawn.”

My Ko-fi (please support me 👉👈) Also please reblog so this ca reach more people. Also, also, happy Christmas if you celebrate.

[pricetagofficial]

The Archer -Part 7

Warnings: Language, prank war (I’m sorry, 2 am me had a moment), again give it another chapter or so until the cringe slows down.

Part Eight

Word Count: 5167.... (Holy shit I’m sorry)

Tag list: @kishony-the-geek​ @idkmanicantenglish @catxsnow @unknowntoanyone @starxfires

A/N: This goes to my girl Amanda, hope you feel better! Also, again i am sorry for the blegh you are about to read.

As Rory healed, she was forced to stay out of the action. Every night she would attempt to put on her suit and every night she would be derailed. It had been a week and Alfred finally gave in on letting her out of bed rest, not that she minded it all that much with Tim joining her every day.

He would lead her out on short walks, make sure her wound was dressed properly, and let her fall asleep in his arms. Tim couldn't ignore the feeling in his stomach he had every time he was around her, and it got worse every time she smiled at him, laughed, or even looked at him.

There was no way he had that kind of feelings for Rory, she was his best friend and didn't want to ruin their friendship. But he never felt as happy as he was whenever he was around her, sure she was a little cynical and hard to understand sometimes but it's what made Rory, Rory, and Tim wouldn't want to change her for the world.

Of course, all of their time spent together did not go unnoticed. Unknown to them, Dick Stephanie and now Roy and Jason were all conspiring against the two of them. Dick, Jason, and Stephanie knowing Tim as well as they did could tell that Tim was falling hard for Rory and according to Roy, this was as close as she got to someone. She never let anyone get close to her these days and it amazed Roy just how close they were getting.

So naturally, they organized a secret meeting with just the four of them. They met down in the Bat cave because Rory was officially banished from it because she wouldn't listen to Bruce when he said no patrol. His last resort was calling Oliver and that was when she quit trying.

"So obviously, our little Timmy has a thing for Rory. What do you guys think we should do about this situation?" Dick asked, leaning against the wall.

"Well, I say we should convince him to take her out on a date," Stephanie suggested. "I can try and give him suggestions without being suspicious."

"No offense Steph, but you are one of the most suspicious people we know. Maybe that's not the greatest idea." Jason interjected. "Besides, Rory is still on house arrest and she can't go anywhere. We need to get them to admit they have feelings, maybe not to each other but to one of us." Roy finished.

"They have a point, so maybe just ease them into the idea of possibly liking the other," Dick said and pushed himself off the wall. "Now, I need to ready for patrol. It's Jason's night off so he's going to be keeping an eye on Rory and maybe do some digging. Of course, you and Jess are welcome to join us like usual."

Roy grinned, "Count us in Grayson."

Hours later, everyone was out on patrol with Barbara and Alfred down in the Bat cave while Rory was with Jason sat in the home theater. They were watching one of the many versions of Romeo and Juliet, Rory had no idea that Jason was a major literature buff and loved to read.

"Why are we watching this sappy romantic tragedy again?" she asked, leaning back in her seat as she ate low sodium popcorn. Alfred being Alfred, made sure that Rory got the food and nutrients she needs and also that she didn't eat anything too hard on her stomach because she was still on the mend.

"Because I wanted to. After watching My Fair Lady three times with you, I had 'I Could Have Danced All Night' stuck in my head." he explained, eating some of his popcorn. Rory gave him a look, "That's not terrible. It's a great song, one of my favorites."

"I was humming it in public, you're lucky Dick or the gremlin didn't catch me. Also, of course, Replacement would watch whatever you asked him too so he has watched more than I have. It seems he would do anything for you." Jason said, popping another piece in. "Besides, what is your obsession with this movie?" he asked, looking over at her ignoring Romeo confessing his love to a balcony in the middle of the night.

"My mother watched it with me for the first time when I was about four, and it stuck with me. I remember wanting to be Eliza Doolittle and tried to dress in my mother's fancy clothes and attempt to try a British accent." Rory said with a forlorn look on her face. "I've been watching it every night because it's something I can fall asleep too."

"Have the nightmares gotten bad again?" he asked, sitting up more to look at her better. Rory gave him a slow nod and he swore under his breath. "I told you, you can come and find me any time if they get too bad," he said and pulled her into a hug.

"I know, it's just that Tim is so adamant that I sleep. He wants me to heal quickly because he is so worried. I can tell that he still blames himself, I see it in his eyes every time it's mentioned or he gets a glance at the bandages. I just hope he isn't going to do anything reckless without me around." she sighed and leaned into Jason's hold relaxing slowly.

"Well, know that Dick, Bruce, Damian, Steph, and I will take care of him. Have been for a few years now, princess," he said with a chuckle. "There is no trouble he can get himself into that we can't get him out of."

Rory let a smile spread on her face. "Thanks, Jason, and speaking of Tim I need a way to get him back for picking me up over his shoulder. I said that I would attack the thing he loves most, but what is that?" she asked.

Jason was half tempted to say her but decided against it. Instead, he went with a better option. "Timbo loves coffee and computers. Maybe you could do something with those," he suggested. "But if this gets turned into a prank war, you are on your own princess. I will not save your ass if he has better pranks than you."

"Gee, such a great friend you are." she laughed, wincing from the sudden movement. Jason gave her a look and she saw it from the corner of her eye. "Stop looking at me like that, getting it from Tim is bad enough."

Jason put his hands up and sat back in his chair again. "Alright, sorry. Do you have any ideas on what to do with his coffee or computer?" he asked.

Rory grinned and turned her head to look at him, "I might have a few up my sleeve."

That night before she went to bed, she and Jason enacted their plan to sabotage Tim's coffee. The two of them made sure that they were up before everyone and went down to the kitchen and saw Alfred cooking, with a fresh pot of coffee brewing. The house rule was that no one was allowed to touch the pot until Tim had his first cup.

The two of them talked with Alfred as everyone began to file in. First was Dick, then it was Damian, Roy, Stephanie, Jesse, and Bruce. Bruce made his way over to Rory and looked at her, "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm feeling good." she smiled. "I'm excited for the day."

Bruce gave her and Jason odd looks when Tim finally entered the kitchen. As they predicted, Tim went straight for the coffee pot and poured his coffee and grabbed the milk and sugar. He poured a bit of each in before stirring it and taking a sip.

No sooner did the coffee touch his lips, that he spat it out all over the floor. "What the fuck!?"

Rory and Jason tried to hide their smiles, as everyone else laughed at Tim's disturbed face but Tim saw them and narrowed his eyes. "What the hell did you two do to my coffee?" he glared.

"I may or may not have switch the sugar out for kosher salt," Rory said with a laugh, covering her mouth. "This is payback for picking me up over your shoulder, I did say that I would attack what you loved most, and here we are."

"Then why is he laughing too?" Tim looked at Jason who was trying to keep his mouth shut.

"Why, Timothy dear. It was his idea."

Jason looked at Rory with a bewildered expression, "It was not my idea! It was hers." but Tim didn't seem to believe him.

"I'm gonna kill you, Todd." Tim frowned and charged at Jason, who got up quickly and took off down the hall wanting to avoid coffee deprived Tim, for coffee deprived Tim was scarier than Damian on a bad day.

"Miss Aurora, would you please tell me where you and Master Jason put the sugar? I would like to have sweet tea, not salty this afternoon." The tone of Alfred's voice was disapproving, but his eyes betrayed him. It seemed that he had thought Rory and Jason's prank was funny.

"Sure thing Alfred." Carefully she got up and walked over to a cabinet where she had stashed the real container of sugar and gave it to the butler. "I can help clean up the mess?" she asked with a small smile.

As the week progressed, Rory grew more and more anxious about whether Tim would try and get her back or not. According to the others, especially Damian, it would be more likely than not that he would try and get her back so she chose to watch her back just in case.

Alfred had declared her wound healed for the most part, and Rory was once again allowed in the Bat cave but still not on patrol. She just had to work with Barbara and keep an eye on them and provide help if they needed it. It wasn't a bad job, Rory was a genius when it came to computers and enjoyed working with Babs who in turn taught her things while Roy and Jesse left for Star City to check on Oliver and let them know she was okay.

It was after one of those rough nights of patrol that Tim finally attacked.

Rory drug herself into the kitchen late one morning after Damian left for school and Dick went to work. Tim was in the cave, working on a case while Jason took some time to himself. Stephanie was down in the kitchen as well, munching on a bowl of dry cereal when Rory opened the fridge and pulled out the jug of orange juice.

Orange juice was one of Rory's favorite things, and Alfred had been wanting her to drink more of it because it gave her the vitamin c she was missing. Stephanie watched as Rory grabbed a glass and poured it mostly full. Placing the jug on the counter, Rory took a big gulp of the juice. What she got instead was not what she expected.

Almost immediately, she ran to the sink and spat it out gagging in the process. The taste was so horrible, Rory wanted to vomit. Quickly getting a new cup, she filled and drank water out of it multiple times to try and get the wretched taste out.

Only then did she realize that Stephanie had her phone out and was trying to hide her giggle. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at the blonde sitting on the counter. "Steph, what the hell was that."

"That, dear Aurora was cheesy orange juice. I opened a few packs on mac and cheese powder and poured it into the orange juice." Tim's voice sounded from the phone. Stephanie turned it around and saw Tim was video chatting her to see the reaction of the juice prank.

"You know what, dragon boy? This means war. I went easy on you with the salty coffee, so you better surrender now." she threatened, holding a wooden spoon in her hand. "Because this is going to get so much worse for you before it gets better."

And that's how the 6th Wayne Manor Prank War began.

The orange juice event had spread around the manor quickly. Stephanie not only video called Tim, but she managed to get a video of it and sent it to the entire Wayne Manor residence. Damian never let her forget her moment of shame mumbling something along the lines of "I always check my drinks for I ingest it, any civilized person would do the same." which earned him a whack on the back of the head from Dick, telling him to be nice.

Ever since she declared war, it was almost as if Bruce and Alfred were hiding, not wanting to get caught up in Rory and Tim's war. No one knew when Rory would strike next, and they didn't want to be caught in the middle of it or worse be the one to accidentally set of whatever she planned. Lucky for them, Rory wasn't pulling out the big stops yet, she went for another small prank.

It was simple, everyone knew that Tim had a specific cup he carried around. It was a basic white mug with the saying "World's best detective." Bruce's said "World's second best detective." Tim made the mistake of leaving it out on the counter one evening and Rory decided to leave a little message.

When the next morning came around, everyone was getting breakfast except Bruce and Barbara who were still in the cave working from the previous night. Tim was working still too, but he had come up for some coffee with the pot downstairs empty and no supplies to brew another pot.

When he entered the kitchen, only Dick, Jason, Damian, and Stephanie were in sight and were quietly eating their food. This set off red flags in Tim's mind, there was some reason all four of them were so quiet and he had a bad feeling about it. Grabbing the pot, he poured coffee into it and checked the sugar once more to make sure that it was not salt again even though it would be idiotic to repeat a prank.

Tim leaned against the counter and watched his siblings eat quietly as he sipped his coffee, but the second he took a sip the four of them started giggling. Quickly he removed his mug from his lips and inspected his coffee. "What's so funny?" he asked.

The four of them shrugged and went back to eating, something was not right. He knew there was nothing wrong with the drink itself, he had already tasted some and it was normal; so what made them laugh? He took another sip and they laughed some more. Again, Tim lowered his mug and this time felt his lip expecting something to be there. But nothing was.

Adjusting his grip, he felt something on the bottom of his cup and quickly he peeled it off to see that it was a stick note. He flipped it over to see the words "Aurora Queen is a mother fucking beast and will win this prank war."

Tim crumbled the note and saw that Jason was holding up his phone with Rory on a video call much similar to what he and Stephanie did. "See you got my note dragon boy, sticky notes don't lie. That was my last nice prank, Timothy, give up and I'll let you grovel for an hour instead of prolonging it." she grinned.

"Just you wait, songbird. I have a few tricks up my sleeves, you won't see them coming." Tim hit the red button and hung up the call. "Hey Damian, I'll drive you to school today yeah?" Damian gave Tim a skeptical look, he never wanted to drive him anywhere let alone drive period. What was he up to?

Rory sat in the kitchen later that day, reading a book when Stephanie walked in holding a bag from Burger King. "Hey Rory, I was out and got you something," she said and pulled out a box of ten-piece chicken nuggets, placing them in front of Rory. Everyone knew that these were her favorite and quickly grabbed the box.

"Thanks, Steph," and with her mouth salivating for the taste of Burger King nuggies she opened the box. What she was in the box was not chicken nuggets. Instead, they were replaced with the worst thing on the planet, roasted brussels sprouts. Immediately Rory knew what this was. This was Tim's prank at getting back at her for the note, well it was time to stop playing nice.

With this newfound revenge, she quickly enlisted the help of Damian promising to do his homework for two weeks if he just 'accidentally' destroyed the coffee pot in the kitchen, which he did. Alfred replaced it and before anyone could notice, Rory printed out a sticker that said "Voice-activated" on it and had a list of commands underneath it.

Knowing how tired Tim has been, it was perfectly timed. This time she was in the kitchen with everyone to see the chaos that was tired Tim ensue. He trudged into the kitchen and saw the new pot with the label saying it was voice-activated.

He shrugged it off assuming it was some fancy high tech pot that just came out. Looking through the list of commands he said "Brew black coffee." Nothing happened. He said it twice more and still, nothing happened.

Rory and Jason, who had seen her labeling the pot bit back a grin watching a now tired, and irritated Tim yell at a coffee pot to make him coffee only for it to not be voice-activated at all. Alfred walked in and saw Tim still yelling and now insulting the pot. "Master Tim, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to get some coffee." he grumped. "But this stupid ass pot won't work!"

"That's because it's not voice activated sir."

Tim's jaw dropped and he turned on his heel to see both Rory and Jason gone. Of course, he just fell for another prank. He was determined to win this war so he looked at Alfred, "Could you help me with something?"

"Of course, sir."

A couple of hours later, Jason and Rory were sat in the bat cave getting her wound checked once more. After a little poking a prodding, Jason deemed it healed. Her skin had healed together nicely and she didn't feel much pain moving anymore but she still had to take it easy and no patrol for at least another week.

Alfred had come down and told them that he had made his famous brownies if they would like any. Of course, if anyone knew anything it was that Alfred made amazing brownies and they were so good you would kill for them. Quickly, the two of them bolted up the stairs and into the kitchen where they saw Tim, Stephanie, Dick, and Damian all eating some of Alfred's famous brownies.

When they got to the pan and pulled back the foil, they frowned. There were no brownies in the pan, instead, there were several brown e's in the pan with the word 'gotcha' written on the underside of the foil. The two of them turned to look at Tim who was smugly enjoying his brownies.

"That's cold replacement, getting Alfred to help you and with the brownies no less," Jason said, sending his younger brother a glare. Rory was just as pissed if not more so, she had never tasted Alfred's brownies she has only heard of their greatness.

"This is for that voice-activated coffee bullshit," he said with a grin. Rory walked over, grabbed his plate, and shoved it into his face.

"And that's for involving poor Alfred." and she walked off.

Days had gone by and there was no retaliation prank by Rory and Jason, which worried everyone. Or so it seemed. This prank was very low key and it would take a very sharp eye, or nose more likely to notice it. Eight days had passed before Dick finally spoke up, he wasn't sure but to him, Tim had been smelling like dinner for the last few days and he was confused.

"Hey, Timmy, did you change your body wash or something? You smell like dinner." Everyone in the cave nodded in agreement, the only ones silent were Jason and Rory.

"Yeah Timbo, you smell like chicken soup." Stephanie laughed, "We all just assumed that you had changed something when you showered but with the look on your face and the sudden silence of the dynamic duo tells us otherwise."

Now that they had mentioned it, Tim's showers had been smelling like chicken soup. He just brushed it off as Alfred cooking, but he hadn't made anything chicken-related in two weeks. Rory sat in her seat with a wide smirk on her face, with Jason keeping a straight face but smiling with his eyes.

"What did you two do to my soaps?!" he cried, walking over to them.

"We didn't do anything to your soaps replacement, relax," Jason said, turning in his chair to polish his helmet once more. Rory however, kept looking at him.

"He's right, we did nothing to your soaps. The showerhead however is a different story dragon boy, or should I say chicken boy now?" she grinned. Tim's eyes widened and he ran upstairs to his shower and pulled off the showerhead. Once he pulled it off, three chicken bouillon cubes fell out and into the tub.

No wonder he had been smelling chicken soup, he had been showering in it for over a week!

Once everyone learned of the prank, they began to call him chicken boy which only fueled Tim's determination to get his final prank done. It was three days before Rory was allowed to join patrol again so the two of them decided to have a sit-down and talk about their prank war.

Rory had brought Jason and Tim surprisingly brought Damian with him. "What do you want to discuss chicken boy?" she asked with a grin.

"You are going back on patrol in a few days, right? Bruce wants this war of ours to end before then so I have a proposition. We get to play one final prank on the other, and we get help from one other person. Everyone else will decide who had the better prank at the end. I assume you are picking the walking dead over there and I picked Damian." Tim replied, Jason, making a rude hand gesture at the name.

"How did you get Damian to agree to help you? I bargained two weeks of his homework." Rory said crossing her arms.

"He promised not to say or do anything stupid for two weeks," Damian said, adjusting his stance behind Tim. Rory nodded, mentally applauding Tim for his choice of bribery and assistant.

"Alright Drake, I'm assuming we get tomorrow and the next day to enact our prank and the team with the best prank wins?" she asked, raising a brow. "And what does the winner get?"

"The winners get bragging right and an entire batch fo both Alfred's cookies and brownies," Tim said, leaning back into his chair. "Deal?" he stuck out his hand and Rory gave it a shake.

"Deal."

The next two days were total chaos, everyone in the manor knew of their final prank and they were scared just how far they were going to go with this. No one was more than Bruce and Alfred.

The first day and come and gone and nothing had happened, so if they were going to pull a prank it was going to be on day two, and Tim, Rory, Jason, and Damian were ready. The night before while Tim and Damian were out on patrol, Jason and Rory snuck into Tim's room and reorganized everything.

His dresser drawers were switched around, the files in his filing cabinet were rearranged, his containers were switched and so were the flies on his computer. Rory managed to hack into it and renamed every file and reorganize them so it looked like nothing had happened, making sure to leave no pattern for him to follow to put everything back the way it was. Then they crept into Damian's room and did the same, even though there was not much to reorganize.

Tim and Damian had gotten back from patrol later that night once Rory and Jason were asleep and put their plan to action. Under everyone's door, they left a note warning them to be careful opening the doors in the manor and to not sit on any of the chairs either.

Behind every door, they had duct-taped an air horn so once they opened it the horn would go off and under every chair, they could so when they sat, the horns would go off too. Once everything was done they retired for the night.

The four of them woke up at around the same time and the first casualty of the final prank was Tim. When he went to get dressed, he opened his drawer to find that his pants were where his underwear and socks should be. Taking this as a hint, Tim looked around to see that everything was different. How the hell did he not notice that, to begin with? Tim was always very particular about his stuff and those two knew and yet they messed with his stuff.

The next casualty was Damian who suffered from the same fate only it didn't bother him as much as it did Tim. It was easier to fix it and put it all back where it belonged, what irritated him was that he was roped into something that Drake had started. Being part of the prank was not what he agreed to. Damian shrugged and began to reorganize his room.

Jason and Rory were next. When they went down to breakfast, the door to the kitchen was left open slightly. Being as tired as they were after reorganizing Tim and Damian's rooms, they swung the door open only to be greeted with a very loud horn. Rory let out a scream and fell to the floor as Jason jumped three feet in the air.

Tim stood behind them with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. "What happened Rory? You alright?"

Still, on the floor, Rory flipped him off. "Fuck you, dragon boy. You still seem to be in a good mood, so you haven't even seen the worst of what we did." Jason bent down to help her up, the two of them careful of the kitchen door this time. Rory moved it away from the wall and saw the air horn taped to the wall.

"Well played, I'm guessing you gave everyone else a heads up?" she asked, looking around everyone didn't seem as disturbed as she and Jason were but they were definitely laughing.

"I don't think I have ever seen Jason jump that high, or even move that fast." Dick laughed, eating a spoon of cereal. It was Jason's turn to flip him off and the two of them got breakfast, checking behind the fridge and cabinet doors. It was safe to say that they were slightly scared now.

What they weren't expecting was when they sat down on the only two open stools, more horns went off scaring the both of them again, this time flinging their food into the air. At this point Rory was pissed, that was twice he got her in five minutes. Was nowhere safe in the manor? Pulling the horn of her seat, she threw it at Tim's head who only caught it.

"Scared of a little horn songbird? I thought you were tougher than that." he grinned.

"Watch your back dragon boy, I might just try to throw you off a building." she threatened and got herself a new bagel because hers landed in one of the potted plants. Jason had gotten himself a breakfast sandwich and all the pieces were across the room.

With breakfast done and over an hour later, every room Rory and Jason walked into they opened the doors carefully and checked before the sat down on any suspicious chair. "I think we're safe on the couch, at least until he finds what we did to his-"

Jason was cut off by loud yelling, followed by what sounded like someone running downstairs. "You wanna try that again princess?" Rory asked and got up, ready to run if Tim was feeling a little murderous.

Tim slammed the door open, making a horn go open and scaring himself with Rory laughing at him. "What happened Timothy? Something wrong?" she asked with a grin. Tim stomped over and held out his laptop.

"What did you do to all of my cases!?" he yelled.

After a lengthy explanation, Rory fixed everything on his laptop to the way it was before. "Now, to decide the winner," she said and went down to the Bat cave, as the passage opened Rory, Jason and Tim made their way down. What Rory didn't know was that there were more horns hidden for them.

Not thinking that Tim would rig the chairs in the cave, both Jason and Rory plopped their butts down onto a chair only for them to jump off and onto the floor when the horn went off.

"Well, now that everyone is down here there is a matter for us to discuss," Dick said. "Who had the better prank?"

Almost everyone said Tim and Damian, apparently watching the two of them scream and jump every time there was a horn was funnier than watching Tim try and refigure out his room. Rory slumped in her spot and pouted. She was never going to hear the end of it from Tim nor Damian.

What made it worse was that they both get a batch of Alfred's cookies and brownies all to themselves. Twice now that Jason and Rory were denied that chocolatey goodness, but Tim and Damian did win fair and square even though Rory's earlier pranks were better. It seemed that Tim saved the best one for last and it's what got him the victory.

"Now that this prank war of your is settled, you two are going to be partnered on patrol again. Rory, you will be helping Tim with his case on Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, and Cobblepott. You two will leave continue tomorrow as Alfred has requested she rest for at least another day to make sure she is healed enough to get back out." Bruce said.

"Also, please try not to start another prank war or anything for at least 6 months."

[novannna]

I Dare You

based on a pin I saw on pinterest where i use a song and write a story sing every single word. I used I Dare You by Bea Miller to write this fic. 

here's the song (:

It takes place mid supernova, when Nova has Danna caught in a jar. She struggles with her guilt for trapping Danna, and questions her loyalties to the Anarchists. This was a bitch to write bc trying to fit lyrics in order is a pain, so please leave likes and reblog!

Wc: 3440

Nova rubbed her eyes, collapsing onto the bed in her and Honey’s room.  She groaned, kicked off her shoes and fell backward.  

She was so fucking tired of the anarchists.  She knew that they had done so much for her, but they expected too much.  And she was exhausted.  They wanted her to keep the charade up with the Renegades.  

And she hated it.  She hated having to pretend to love Adrian.  She hated having to spend every single second of her day with Adrian, Oscar, and Ruby, getting as close as she could when, in the end she knew she would betray them.  

And that was going to make her feel miserable.  Even more miserable then she already was.  

A flutter of black and orange caught her eye, and Nova pulled herself up.  

In her moment of self pitying, she had completely forgotten about her butterfly friend.  

That was another thing weighing heavy on her consciousness.   

She walked over to the vanity, and picked up the small jar.  

“I can remember a time when I was so afraid,” she said to Danna, “maybe the first time I ever felt real, true fear.  A man entered my apartment.  He killed my mom and dad right in front of me.  He killed my sister,” she said with a small sob.  “I couldn’t save her.  But maybe… maybe if I had tried harder I could have.  That was the first time I felt fear.  When I went to a place even my shadow wouldn’t follow me.” 

Nova slumped down to the floor, and cradled the jar to her chest.  “I don’t know why I’m even telling you this.”  Nova groaned.  “I’m a fucking mess.  But I feel like I can talk to you.  Is that weird?”  She laughed, and shook her head.  “I don’t even know if you can hear me.”    She looked at the butterfly.  It was still for the first time in days.  It seemed as if it was looking straight at Nova.  She groaned again.  “I’m sick of being a tool.  I’m sick of being just another step in my uncle’s plan.  But they are my family, and I have to help.  Don’t I?”

Danna barreled into the wall, then flapped her wings adamantly.  

Nova breathed in deeply.  “I’m so sorry Danna.  I can’t imagine what it must be like in there for you. I- I would hate it.  I’m sorry for being an anarchist.  I know you wanted to believe in me.”  

“Nova!”  Honey’s shrill voice yelled.  “Get your ass down here!  We need you!”

Nova grimaced.  “I guess I’m picking up my sword.  Thanks for listening, Danna.  You actually helped me a lot.”  She set the jar back on the vanity, and scattered a few pins over it, making it look like nothing had been disturbed. 

And she was struck by an urge to shatter the jar.  Let all the pieces scatter, and let Danna free.  Then Danna could go tell the Renegades.  

And Nova could stop pretending.  

She could go back to the person she was before.  Before she met Adrian, and Oscar, and Ruby.  Before she met Danna.

---

“Nova sweetie, what took so long?”  Honey asked.  She dipped her finger into a jar of honey, and lazily stirred it around.  

Nova ignored her, and sat down around the table.  “I thought we were done.  What else do you need?”  She was in a bad mood.  A very bad mood.  She couldn’t handle Honey and the others right now.  

“So snappy,” Honey sniffed.  “I thought you wanted to get back at the renegades for killing your family.  

“I- of course I do!”  Nova said, annoyed.  

“Well you're certainly not acting like it.  I’m beginning to think you’d rather be with that Everhart boy than us.”

Nova sighed.  “Honey, I would never choose Adrian over my family.  His parents basically killed them.  I am one hundred percent committed.”

“Good.”  

Leroy cleared his throat.  “The window of time to rescue Ace is closing.  We have to act soon.  So, we need you to figure out whatever you possibly can about Cragmoor.”

Nova sighed.  “You want me to go talk to Adrian.”

They both nodded.  “Sorry Nova, I know you just got home.”

“Listen, I want to rescue Ace as much as you guys do, believe me.  But give me a break.  ‘Cause I… I- .”  Nova took a deep breath in, and out.  “I’m worth fighting for too.”  Honey started, and stared at her in complete shock.  “Just for… for..”  nova sighed and stared them straight in the eyes.  “For once in my life, give me a break.  Yes, I know what the Renegades did.  But don’t play innocent.  I know you’ve manipulated me my entire life.  And I let it happen.  So just… leave me alone tonight.  I have a lot to think about.  We can overthrow the Renegades tomorrow, alright?”  

Before Honey could respond, Nova stormed upstairs.  She threw the window open, and was half-way out before a thought crossed her mind.  She ducked back in and put the small jar with the golden butterfly into her pocket.  

She pulled herself to the roof, and leapt off.  She bounded across the rooftops, until she had reached an old office.  She scaled to the roof, and pulled the jar out of her pocket.  

“So they can put me in a cage,” she muttered to herself.  “Lock me in a room and throw away the key.  But they get mad at me when I try to stand up for myself.”  She flipped onto her back, and looked at the setting sun.  The sky was alight with colors.  

“I know you hate me,” she said to the butterfly.  “I’ve done terrible things.  I hurt you.  But I’m not sorry for what I did.”  Nove realized she had started to cry.  “I dare you to do something else if you had been in my place.”  

She sniffed, and wiped her tears away.  “I’ll break down the walls trying to keep me down.  I’ll be a higher wrecking ball then the Renegades.  I’m gonna hurt them the way they hurt me.  And I won’t let them tear me down.”  No.  Oh, Nova would never let them win. Oh, she would never let that happen.  They could lock her away at Cragmoor, and throw away the key, but Nova would never stop fighting.

“Danna, I dare you to spend a day in my shoes.  Oh, someone like you?  So used to freedom and choices?  Oh, you wouldn’t last a day.  And I won't let you tear me down.  No, the Renegades will never best me.”  Nova wiped her face again.  

She looked at the small insect.  

“At least I know the Renegades are bad. The anarchists…”  Nova sighed.  “They pretend they're so much better, but I know they’re just using me.  They don’t actually care about me, just what I can do. I had an opinion, but I never spoke my mind, and I wouldn’t argue, even when I knew I was right.  I was too fucking scared of what would happen.  What Honey might do.  But I’m not that girl anymore.  I can stand up for myself.  I can say what I want now.”  The sun had now fully set, and a speckling of stars covered the sky.  

Yeah, Nova had lost almost every battle against Honey and the other Anarchists.  She never won an argument so she had stopped trying.  But she was determined to win the war.

“I’m worth fighting for, Danna.  For- for years of my life, I watched the Renegades abuse me and the Anarchists.  And I know that you and Adrian, and the others want me to be good and do the right thing, but that's not gonna happen.  I’m not changing who I am because it’ll get me farther in life.  So if the Renegades do end up winning, you can put me in a cage, you can lock me in a room and throw away the keys.”  She leapt to her feet, and strode around, her mind too crowded to enjoy the starry sky.  

“In fact I dare you.  I dare you to lock me away, because I’ll break down the walls.  I will be a higher wrecking ball.  And I won’t let you tear me down, no.”  She breathed out heavily.  “But I am sick of this guilt I have.  Sick of convincing myself I’m doing what needs to be done.  I’m fucking sick of having to see you every day, just to be struck by another wave of guilt at seeing you trapped because of me.  I’m so sick of being confused and torn between everything.”  Nova scooped the jar up, off the ground and held it to her chest.  

“I want to throw away the key to my heart,  make it so I can never open it.  So no one can ever open it.  I don’t ever want to give anyone power over me again.  Look at what it’s fucking doing to me!”  She sobbed, to the butterfly.  “I dare you to go to the Renegades.  Bring them here, let them catch me.”  Nova turned to the edge and screamed, ���I am done being the double agent!  I am fucking done!”  But no one responded.  No one cared.  Who would?  

“I won’t let you tear me down?  No what a fucking joke.  Danna, you’ve already torn me apart.  With guilt.  With your hate.  With the knowledge that when you’re human again, you'll hate me!”  Nova collapsed back onto the hard roof.  

“I just keep running, running, running.  Trying to find my place in the world, and it always ends back at good vs. evil.  Villain vs. hero. Just like you and me.  Monarch vs. Nightmare,” Nova spat, still crying.  “I’m still fucking trying to find who I was.  Am.  I don’t know.  I would go the distance to find out, but it’s never far enough.”

She held the jar up to eye level, and looked at the delicate golden insect.  

Nova knew exactly what she wanted, but she knew that would never happen.  She knew what she wanted for once.  Yes, she wanted to destroy the Renegades for what they did to her and her family.  Yes, she wanted to tell the Anarchists that she was done being their tool.  Yes, she wanted to save Ace from his fast approaching death.  Yes, she wanted to have it all be over.  

But in that moment, the one thing she wanted, wanted more than anything was to see Danna right in front of her.  To stop that constant guilt from devouring her.  It might mean the end of her freedom, but it was worth it.  To see Danna one more time.  

“But now, Danna, I'm standing straight and I think I know exactly who I am.”  Nova breathed in.  She smiled a little and laughed amid her tears.  

“My name is Nova Jean Artino.  I’m not a Renegade or an Anarchist.  I’m just Nova.  Yeah, I was raised as an Anarchist.  Yeah, I pretended to be a Renegade.  But that’s not important.  Because I’m Nova, and that’s all that matters.”  She carefully unscrewed the top and let the gold insect fly out.  

As it disappeared, Nova whispered to herself, “I can remember a time when I was so afraid.  I trapped a golden girl in a jar so she wouldn’t hurt me, and by doing that, I hurt her.  So now, now I’m terrified she’ll hate me forever.”  

Nova sat down on the rooftop, and waited.  For what though, she wasn’t quite sure.  Common sense told her to run.  Run far, and hide.  Danna would tell everyone, and she would spend the rest of her life behind bars.  

A flicker of orange caught Nova’s eye.  A swarm of brilliant monarchs were flying across the night, heading straight for Nova.  She sprang to her feet as they cycloned in front of her.  

They consolidated into a form still in a Renegades uniform, blonde dreadlocks wild and crazy, brushing against warm brown skin.  Danna.  

“Nova,” she whispered, before pitching forwards.  Right into Nova’s arms.  

Nova hugged her tight against her body, and inhaled the scent of flowers.  She gently lowered the unconscious girl to the ground, using her leg as a pillow for Danna’s head.  

Danna’s eyes flickered open.  “Nova…” she croaked.  

“Hey Danna,” she replied through a blur of tears.  “I’m sorry…”

Danna cut her off by reaching up and cradling Nova’s head.  She kissed her firmly, stopping anymore words from leaving Nova’s mouth.  

“I wanted to do that from the moment I saw you,” Danna breathed.  

Nova sprang to her feet, Danna right behind her.  

“Danna, I’m a bad person.  You should turn me in.  Find a better person to be with,”  Nova said softly through tears.  “I’m tired of living a lie.  Please… just do it already.”  She screwed her eyes shut and held out her hands, expecting Danna to handcuff her, or call Adrian and the others.  

Instead, warm arms enveloped her.  

Nova broke down sobbing, crying into Danna’s shoulder.  It wasn’t pretty or cute, it was an ugly cry.  Tears and snot ran down her face.  

“I’m so so sorry,” she sobbed.  “I trapped you.  I betrayed you.  How are you not mad?”

Danna sighed, and rubbed Nova’s back soothingly.  “In the beginning I was.  I was so mad that you had been spying on us, using us.  I was pissed that I was stuck in swarm mode.  But then… I saw how you lived.  The way the other anarchists used you, and the way you were manipulated.  I know that the Renegades messed up your life a lot, and I understand Nova.  I don’t agree with what you did, but I do understand.”

Nova sobs gradually ceased.  “You should go.  I don’t want to get you in trouble for helping me.  Thank you for everything Danna.”  She pulled herself away from the warm hug.  

“Nova,” Danna said sharply.  “You can put me in a cage, or lock me in a room, however much you want.”  She inhaled sharply.  “You can do whatever you want to try and convince me you're a bad person, but I know the truth.”

Nova turned to look at Danna’s wide brown eyes.  

“You can throw away the key to your heart, but you can bet that won’t stop me.”  Danna smiled at Nova.  “I dare you to let me into your life.  Because I'm in love with you.  And if you think that we can’t be together because you think you're a villain, then I’ll break down the walls guarding you.”  Danna smirked, her soft lips curving into a smile.  “I’m a higher wrecking ball, and you can’t stop me.  Nova Jean Artino, you are going to have to accept the fact that I love you, and I don’t want you to turn me away because you think you’re a villain.  I understand if you don’t want me, but I need you to realize that I want you as who you are, villain or not.”  

Nova shook her head.  “But what about my uncle?  I can’t just let him die, he’s done so much for me.  I won’t let you tear me down, away from my goal, and my family.  No, oh no.  He’s all I have left.  ”  

“Nova, it's too late for him, but it's not too late for you.  Throw away this pointless hope that he can survive this.  I agree the renegades need to change, and you are key to that, not him.”  Danna reached out to grab Nova’s hand, and pulled them together.

Nova pressed her forehead against Danna’s, their warm skin touching together.  

“Nova, I dare you to forget everything.  Forget the Anarchists and the Renegades.  Forget everything, and just think about me.”  Danna smiled at Nova.  “Do you want me the way I want you?”

“Yes,” Nova breathed.  “Oh, more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?  We can leave.  Start a new life, just us.   Forget renegades and anarchists.  There would be no Nightmare and Monarch.  Just Nova and Danna.”

“We can’t…”

“Why not?  What’s stopping you?   Is there anything for you in Gatlon?”

Nova shook her head.  “But Ace…”

“He’s already dead.  We can’t do anything for him.  But we can do something for you.  I know how huge this is- asking you to leave everything and start a new life, but I love you Nova Jean Artino, and I never want to see you caught by the Renegades, or used by the Anarchists ever again.”  Danna looked straight at Nova.  “Will you leave with me?”

“Okay,” Nova said, surprising herself.  “Okay,” she repeated with a small laugh.  “You’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

Danna’s face darkened.  “Everyday when I was in the jar.  When I saw the way you were treated, I knew I had to get you out of there.”

“That must have been terrible for you to be stuck in there,” Nova murmured.  

“You helped me.  Whenever I saw your face, or heard your voice it made me feel better because I knew nothing had happened.”

“You helped me too.  I’ve never had anyone I could talk to, but for you it felt like you were listening.  And understanding.”  Nova shrugged.  

“I was. Well not listening exactly, but I did understand.  And I wanted to form so I could wrap my arms around you, and kiss you until you were better.”  

“You can do that now if you want,” Nova said lightly.  “I hear it’s good to practice.”

Danna raised her eyebrow.  “Well, we’d better make up for years of missing out then.”

Nova’s face flushed a brilliant shade of red.  “You’re not the first person I kissed,” she mumbled.  

Danna laughed brightly.  “Really?  Who else?”

“Narcissa Cronin.  The Librarian’s daughter.  I don't think you've met her.”  

“Interesting.  But I still think you need more practice,”  Danna grinned, and cupped Nova’s face in her strong hands.  

Danna pulled them together, and they kissed.  

It was like nothing Nova had ever experienced before.  Small fireworks shot through her mind as she wrapped her legs up around Danna’s waist, and they tumbled down to the hard ground.  

They didn’t care.  

Danna ran her hands through Nova’s choppy hair.  

“We should go,” Nova said, breathless.  “If we really want to leave.”

“Yeah,” Danna said, equally out of breath.  She tucked a loose piece of hair behind Nova’s ear.  “We should.” 

She reached up and pulled Nova back down, Nova straddling her hips and leaned down over Danna again, her hair a thick curtain.  

“You’re beautiful Star,” Danna said thickly.  

“You too, lepidoptera,” Nova chuckled.  She leaned back up.  

“Oh stop it.”  Danna pretended to glare at Nova, and leaned back up.  

“Never.”  Nova smirked.  “So you really want to leave?  We can’t come back.  This is a forever decision,” Nova said, her expression souring.  

“Nova, I want you to be my forever,” Danna said, rubbing Nova’s hand.  “I love you, and I’d give up the world for you.”  She stood, and offered a hand to Nova, which Nova accepted.  

“I love you too, but I don’t want you to throw your life away.”

“I’m not throwing it away if it's with you.  I’m just making it better.”

Nova went up on her tiptoes, and brushed a kiss against Danna’s chin.  “I want to leave Gatlon forever and never look back.”

“Me too.”

“Ready then?”  

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”  

Danna burst into her swarm, and followed Nova closely as she made her way down the old building.  

She solidified, and together the two of them walked through the city, hand in hand.  

Nova thought back to the Anarchists, the way she was just leaving them.  They would not last long without her.  But Leroy was smart, and they knew how to survive.  

“Thinking about the others?”  Danna asked.  “I know I don’t like the idea of leaving our team by themselves, but I’d rather you be safe.” Danna squeezed her hand reassuringly.  “They’ll be okay.”

“I hope so,” Nova responded, thinking about the Anarchists not the Renegades.  

As they walked past the cathedral ruins, Nova whispered, “I won’t let you tear me down, Uncle.  You did what you could to mold me to become your perfect soldier, but now I'm becoming my own person.  And I say no more heroes and villains.  Just me and Danna forever.”  She looked back at the tall girl and smiled.  “She feels better than revenge will ever feel.  And I want her to be my forever.”

Together, hand in hand the couple left the city, and never returned.  

tag list: @honey-harper-official @quinterickson @thepurpledragon4444 @nova-artino @lesbianariescalante @prudence-barnett @plain-jane-mclain

(this is my first tag list so please let me know if you want to be added or taken off)

[beneathstarryskies]

Hell Doesn’t Freeze

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Adelaide Swanson (OC)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut 

Summary: When Thomas Shelby shoots Alfie Solomons, that was supposed to be the end. Adelaide Swanson has to pick up the pieces of her life after losing the seemingly unstoppable gangster. 

A/N: See, I told you I write more than just Star Wars. 

No matter how careful Alfie tries to be, as soon as his warmth recedes, Adelaide's sleepy hands search for him. Most mornings it doesn’t take her long to fall back to sleep, but this morning she doesn’t give up her search for him. Her green eyes crack open a bit to watch Alfie as he pulls on his trousers.

“Will you please come back to bed?” She asks, her voice is still raspy from sleep.

“I’d love to. I can’t,” he answers.

She lets out a heavy sigh, “Please.”

He sits on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots. The morning light shines across the floor in golden streaks. He feels the blankets shift as she pushes them off of her. Without looking he knows she’s crawling across the bed, and a small smirk plays on his lips. She wraps her arms around him. Her hands come to rest on his chest, and she pushes her legs around his waist.

“Stay,” she mutters as her head rests on his back. He brings her hands up to his mouth to place soft kisses along her fingertips.

“You make it fuckin’ hard to resist you sometimes,” he chuckles.

“Then don’t,” she suggests. “You deserve to stay in bed.”

Hesitant hands continue reaching for him as he stands up. He strokes his beard as he attempts to remember exactly what he was doing.

“What’s gotten into you?” He smirks.

“I want you to stay in bed,” she pouts. Her hands find him and she attempts to tug him towards her once again. He leans down and leaves a soft kiss on her lips.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promises before finishing up the buttons on his shirt.

She sits on her knees in the middle of the bed watching him with her arms crossed. While he finishes getting dressed, it takes a great deal of effort not to surrender to her pouting.

Adelaide doesn’t usually make much of a fuss about wanting his attention. She lets him come and go as his work requires. Having a few more moments of his attention isn’t unfair of her to ask, it’s not possible today. There’s too much going on that she would only worry about if he told her.

He doesn’t want her to worry about him. In fact that was one of the reasons he’d taken so long to engage in a relationship with her, and why they’re still not married. Alfie fights his guilt every day, although he never voices it. Adelaide is a smart girl, but she's not great at thinking of her own well being. It would be easy for her to marry some boring man with money rather than shacking up with a dangerous gangster. He feels selfish for not wanting to break things off, yet he still hopes she’ll see the time she wastes with him on her own. He pushes the guilt down when she lets out a deep sigh that catches his attention.

“You’re being a brat,” he teases.

She smiles now, “I know. I thought it would work.”

He sits down beside her on the bed, and places a scratchy kiss on her cheek. She lets out a sigh knowing that she’s defeated.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he cups her cheek and turns her face towards him. She waits for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. His eyes seem to be studying her face.

She raises an eyebrow before closing the space between them to pull him into a kiss. For a moment he sinks into her touch, her fingers move to caress his beard before moving to tangle in his hair. She’s almost won her cause when her tongue teases between his lips. Alfie forces himself to pull away from her.

“I’ve gotta go,” he whispers.

“Fine,” she sighs. “It’s for the best. Jane is coming for tea.”

“She fuckin’ hates my guts,” he laughs as he stands up. “Alright, I’ve gotta go love.”

“Be safe,” she tries to smile as he leaves the bedroom, but it's a halfhearted attempt at best.

She hears him summon his dog, Cyril. She hears the two of them walk down the stairs, followed by the sound of the front door closing.

***

Adelaide isn’t sure whether her chest hurts from stress or the cold air hitting her as she stands on the front porch.

“Alfie’s dead,” the words fell off her lips in a whisper. She thought saying them aloud would help her mind wrap around the meaning. Instead a choked laugh follows them.

The poor boy tasked with delivering the news to her looks down at his feet while toying with his hat. He's avoided making eye contact the whole time. She watched the bony fingers tug at a loose string on the hat. The punchline to what she assumed to be a terrible joke never came in the silence that follows.

“You’re not joking,” she whispers finally.

The boy shakes his head, “I’m afraid not.”

“What happened?” She asks finally.

“Thomas Shelby shot him,” the poor boy finally delivers the punchline. As soon as she thought there wasn’t one, here it comes.

She should’ve been able to guess it would be Thomas-fucking-Shelby. Ever since Thomas and Alfie met, the two were always at odds. Yet no matter how much she loved Alfie, she couldn’t deny that he betrayed Thomas on whims. It was inevitable that one of them would kill the other eventually. Things could never go on as chaotic as they’d been.

“Who sent you?” She asks, not sure why it was important to her.

“Mr. Shelby,” the boy looks down. “He wanted to make sure you didn’t hear it in an unpleasant way.”

Adelaide laughs bitterly, “This is pleasant, of course.”

“Addie, the tea is getting cold,” Jane calls from the living room.

“I am sorry for interrupting your tea,” the boy says, still avoiding her eyes.

“It’s not the tea I’ll be mourning,” she whispers.

She closes the door before the boy can say anything else. Her heart pounds as she walks back towards the living room. Jane still sits on the sofa with her legs crossed.

“You should go,” Adelaide’s voice is tense as she tries to keep hold of her own emotions.

“What’s wrong?” Jane asks.

“Alfie is dead,” Adelaide answers finally. "Shot.”

She can see the mixed emotions in Jane’s eyes. Jane and their mother were never approving of Adelaide’s relationship with Alfie. He was a brash criminal who lacked the kind of dignity they respected. Simply being connected to him put Adelaide in danger. Perhaps the most pertinent issue in the eyes of their mother at least, was the lack of marriage. Jane looks down at her hands, obviously unsure of what to say about the situation. She’d never had much affection for Alfie, and had often spoken of the day danger caught up to him.

“You should leave,” Adelaide tells Jane before turning to walk up the stairs.

Jane’s footsteps follow her up the stairs, “Addie, please talk to me about it.”

“I just need to be alone,” Adelaide insists as she closes the bedroom door.

“Okay, well, I am at least going to stay over.”

“Whatever you want, just leave me alone.”

She sits down on the bed. Her fingers trace over the sheets where he had slept beside her just last night. The smell of him still lingers, but she knows within the next night it will be gone.

The strength she’d attempted to display begins to disappear as she wraps herself in the blankets. She pulls his pillow against her, and buries her face into it. She breathes him in, and then releases the breath in a muffled scream. Her rage and pain finally released from her tightened chest. The pillow catches the tears she lets freely fall, her body shaking uncontrollably now.

The memories of their last night together play over in her mind. The feelings of his beard scratching against her skin while kissing his way down her body. His beard always left her skin red and sensitive for the warm touches to come. His strong, rough hands clinging to her hips with each thrust. His breath warm against her skin while asking her if anyone else could ever make her feel so good. Seeking approval from her as though he ever truly needed approval from anyone. She tries again to push the memories out of her mind, but they keep coming like the tide.

She remembers feeling as though something was off with him, but not knowing if it was good or bad. He’d been slower to argue with her than usual. His hands were more tender, his lips taking more time to taste her. He’d taken great care to leave a mark between her breasts. He took his time. In the bath his hoarse voice whispered how much he loved her. Then this morning, he’d been so soft. Usually Alfie had a tendency for impatience, she’d never imagined him letting her be a brat for so long.

Did he somehow know?

In the coming weeks, she would find herself becoming more and more overwhelmed. Visits by a series of shady lawyers detailing the money he’d left for her dragged on. Often with insulting offers of advice on how a young unwed woman would be able to keep such a fortune. As though she would be foolish with the money, as though there was much to be foolish with. It takes ages for her to finally sign the paperwork. If he’d been around to hear some of the comments made, his hands would stay covered in blood. Luckily, she discovered he did have his affairs in order. It’d be foolish to be in his line of work with his penchant for making enemies to not. Despite seeming not to fear death, he at least made sure everything was ready for when it finally found him.

Jane had been eager to help settle everything. Adelaide knows that to Jane this was a welcome ending to a relationship that should’ve never been. Their mother felt much the same way about it, although when Alfie was alive they’d never said so. They were afraid of him and afraid for Adelaide. She’d never been afraid with him, but she finds herself being afraid now.

She’s afraid of how quickly the world moved on. How little his death affected everyone who wasn’t her. His crew fell in with other gangs if they could, but many dispersed to find legal work. The Peaky Blinders began taking even more of a role in things, spreading like a virus now that Alfie is gone. She could spot them everywhere now.

Truthfully she was starting to wonder if he’d ever existed outside of her own imagination.

***

Alfie Solomons is not a man prone to feelings or acts of tenderness. His demeanor almost always resembles the slumped posture of a mad dog ready to attack. Words fall from his lips in a gruff tone, often spaced out with curses. He commits acts of brutality with such nonchalance it’s shocking even to him at times. There was never much of a reason for him to be in touch with any kind of feelings. Yet when he wakes up at Margate, his first thoughts are of Adelaide. He mutters her name softly, only to be told by the doctor that there’s no one named Adelaide present.

“She is home,” Alfie mutters. “At home. I need…protect her.”

“You won’t be going anywhere for a while I am afraid,” the doctor says before injecting Alfie with a sedative.

“Where’s my fucking dog?” Alfie asks, “Take my dog home.”

“There’s no dog,” the doctor says before Alfie’s eyes close again.

He forgets he’s been shot as his dreams take him back to their bedroom. The smell of lavender surrounds him as he sees her walk across the room with a small smile on her full lips. She’s wearing that blue silk robe he loves so much. She sits down on the edge of the bed beside him, and her hands rest on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Alfie whispers. “I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve stayed with you.”

She lets out a chime of a laugh. Her freckled nose crinkles as she shakes her head, “Did Alfie Solomons just apologize? Has Hell frozen over?”

Everything starts blurring around the edges. Her features begin disappearing a bit at a time. He reaches for her, to keep a hold of the dream.

“I’ve gotta go love,” she echoes the last words he said to her.

Everything disappears. He assumes this is Hell, and it’s not quite frozen.

***

Adelaide Swanson,

I am coming into London on Friday afternoon. While I know I am likely the last person you ever want to speak to, we need to talk. It’s very important that we do so in person. I won’t bring anyone else with me, and I trust you will not alert anyone. We need to talk about Alfie.

-Thomas Shelby

Dear Mr. Shelby,

There’s no reason to worry about an ambush. If I see you, I will shoot you myself.

Sincerely,

Adelaide Swanson

PS. Where is Cyril?

Ms. Swanson,

I will be arriving at the house at 5:30. I do ask for at least ten minutes of your time before you begin shooting.

-Thomas Shelby

 PS. Cyril is safe and sound.

Thomas Shelby arrives at exactly 5:30 as promised. He knocks on the door. As he waits for an answer he finishes off his cigarette, and then takes off his hat. Through the window he sees her coming down the stairs. Adelaide’s green eyes are cold when she opens the door.

Alfie had spoken of her before, when they’d been a couple drinks in and both let their guard down. He’d said she was beautiful, but Thomas is still surprised by how beautiful. She looks younger than Alfie, but there’s no signs of naivety in her eyes. Knowing Alfie's disposition made it easy to assume she had to at least be rough around the edges, and a bit scarred. Yet, she looks like a banker’s wife.

“I suppose threats don’t work on a man like you,” she quips.

“Not much.”

She moves to allow him inside. There are boxes spread out throughout the house.

“Don’t mind the mess,” she says before closing the door. “I’m moving.”

“Were you evicted?” He asks.

“No. I can’t stand staying here without him.”

“Been getting the money I sent?”

She laughs, “Yeah. I’ve been getting it.”

A small table in the corner of the living room has three envelopes containing checks from Thomas. She points to it and then shrugs.

“I don’t need your money, Mr. Shelby. Alfie made sure I had enough money. Although having him here would be better,” she sits down in the only chair in the living room. She lights a cigarette. “Your ten minutes has started, by the way.”

Thomas smirks, there’s that toughness he’d been expecting. She takes a deep drag off the cigarette while she waits for him to begin speaking. He notices the gun sitting on the mantle.

“I received a letter from Alfie,” Thomas explains. “Apparently, he’s not a man who is easy to kill. I shot him in the head, and yet he wrote me a letter wanting me to bring his dog to Margate.”

Adelaide’s face goes pale, “You’re lying.”

“I’m afraid not.” He pulls the envelope out of his jacket, and passes it to her. She takes the letter from him, eagerly reading Alfie’s scrawled handwriting. She’s careful not to get her hopes up too much at first.

“Listen, you shouldn’t tell anyone he’s alive. Nobody needs to know, but I thought you should.”

Thomas turns to leave when tears begin rolling off her cheeks. He knows better than to attempt to comfort her.

“Thank you,” she says before he walks out the door.

***

Adelaide goes to the address on the front of the envelope. Her heart pounds as she stands in front of the door. She doesn’t know what she’s more afraid to discover he’s alive or to find that she’s been led astray. If he’s alive, she must deal with why he never reached out. If he’s not alive, she has to be afraid of why Thomas would lead her here.

She knocks on the door three times. There’s a bit of silence before an older woman answers the door. She’s wearing a uniform that shows she’s a maid.

“Hello, I’m looking for Alfie," Adelaide stammers.

“Is he expecting you?”

“Um,” she takes a shaky breath. “He's not.”

“Stay here,” the woman says before closing the door.

Adelaide moves to look into the window, and her heart pounds as spots him sitting in a chair by a window. Every nerve in her body springs into action. He’s reading a book, as usual. The maid whispers something to him, and he stands up in haste. Without caring anymore about politeness, she pushes the door open.

She collides with him in the landing below the stairs. Her arms wrapping around him. She buries her face against his chest, and takes deep breaths of his scent. His arms wrap around her. Sobs shake through her as the reality of Alfie being right here with her.

“I can’t believe it,” she sobs, “You’re alive. You’re here!”

“Listen, pet, I’m so happy to see you,” he responds. “But there’s a reason I haven’t reached out.”

She tries to lift her head to look at him, but his hand comes to rest on the back of her head to stop her.

“Don’t look at me,” he says in a harsh whisper. “I’m an ugly sight. I’m in a bad way.”

“Alfie, please.” she loosens her embrace and attempts to move away from him. He still holds her in place.

“Don't beg," he chuckles. "You'll regret seeing me this way." He moves his hand to cover her eyes before letting her stand up straight.

“Alfie, this is ridiculous. I’ve thought you were dead for so long. I want to see you.”

“No you don’t. You need to remember me for how I was. You know, back when I was pretty.”

She laughs, “When was that?”

“You think that’s funny, huh?”

“Of course.”

“Please Alfie,” she reaches up to move the hand covering her eyes, “Let me see you.”

He resists her attempts to move his hand from her eyes at first. No matter how much she loves him he knows there will be a look of fear or disgust on her face when she sees him. Half of his face is now scarred from Tommy’s gunshot. His eye took a good deal of damage, leaving it lifeless looking. He doesn’t know if he could deal with seeing her feelings change. Still, she tugs at his fingers. He lets his hand fall, but he looks down as he awaits her reaction.

She lets out a gasp, and he expects to hear her footsteps recede away from him. Instead she closes the gap, and places a soft kiss on his cheek. He’s still Alfie, and having learned what life is like without him she’s not picky on what condition she gets him back in. Her hands cup his before pulling him into a kiss.

He kisses her back, a hint of hesitation still lingering from him. Sure, right now she’s still happy to see him. But will she be willing to look at him day after day? He pushes this thought away as her hands soothe through his beard before coming to rest on his chest. He deepens the kiss, wanting to enjoy having her with him right now. Her tongue is silk against his. Their eagerness becomes more plain with each movement.

She pulls away with a small smirk, “So, what does a girl have to do to be shown the bedroom in this place?”

Their hands stay intertwined as he walks her up the stairs to his bedroom. Yet all she wants is to be close to him again. To soak in the presence she’s missed so much. Obviously none of this had anything to do with her, or else he would’ve turned her away at the door.

He leads her into a bedroom with a large bed in the middle. A few medicine bottles still sit on the nightstand. She releases his hand to walk around the room for a moment while pulling off her coat. He watches her, trying to decipher her thoughts.

Despite all the time he’s spent here, he’s done very little to make it feel personal. There’s a stack of books beside the bed. She inspects the bottles on the nightstand, noting they seem to all be pain medicine.

“Does it still hurt?” She asks.

He shrugs, “Not much. Hurt pretty bad at first.”

“Why didn’t you contact me?” She sits on the bed, and kicks off her shoes.

“I was hoping you might have moved on,” he sits down beside her, “Which it’s not too late for.”

She takes his hand and laughs. Her nose crinkles in that way he loves.

“It’s a bit late for all that,” she smirks.

“I’m serious, Addie. You don’t have to be with me anymore. I'm giving you an out,” he looks down at their intertwined fingers. Of course he wants her to leave and find someone else. Even more so, he wants her to stay with him.

“You know I’m not going to do that,” she insists.

“I know,” he smirks now. “I shouldn’t be glad, but I am.”

“I suppose I could be a bit angry at you though,” she leans over to kiss her cheek. “I suppose I would be if I hadn’t missed you so much.”

He pulls her onto his lap. She plants kisses along his cheeks before landing on his soft lips she’d missed so much. She loosen his shirt before starting on the buttons. He pushes up her dress, exposing her thighs. His hands rest on them as their lips continue moving together in harmony. It feels as though no time between them has passed. She could’ve just as easily spent the morning begging him to stay in bed, and he could’ve just arrived home. She pushes his shirt off his shoulders and tosses it to the side. Greed takes over as she moves her hands along his body, wanting to feel every inch of his skin beneath her hands. He lets out a groan when she grinds her hips against his crotch. She leans down to leave a trail of kisses along his collarbone and chest before standing up.

His eyes soak her in as she pulls her dress over her head. She stands before him in her slip and stockings. She begins rolling her stockings down her legs. She kicks them off to the side. Then she takes off the slip, and tosses it into the pile with the rest of the clothes. He reaches out to take her hands, and he pulls her back to him.

His calloused hands massage her breasts before moving along her abdomen. She closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her. She never thought he would touch her again, and now her emotions are threatening to spill. One of his hands slides between her thighs, teasing her clit before dipping into her wet entrance. She lets out a soft moan as he begins working her with his hands. His fingers pump in and out of her at an agonizing slow pace. He leaves soft kisses along her abdomen, his beard tickling her skin.

She opens her eyes again to look at him. Still she’s in awe that he’s actually here, her hands run through his soft hair. A tingling ball begins tensing in her core. Her fingernails scratch lightly against his scalp. His fingers recede from her, earning a soft whine from her lips. He grabs her waist and pulls her onto the bed. She lets out a surprised giggle, only to gasp when he buries his face between her thighs. His tongue circles her clit.

“Fuck, Alfie,” she moans.

“You taste as good as I remember,” he growls before returning to his ministrations.

His tongue continues on her clit while he dips his fingers back into her entrance. It doesn’t take long for her climax to begin building once again. Her toes curl as the tension in her core becomes almost unbearable as the pace of his fingers quicken. She grasps the sheets between her fingers as her orgasm shudders through her body. He continues fingering her and licking up her juices until the pulsing of her walls subsides.

“Fuck,” she whispers.

Alfie stands up to unbuckle his pants, finally releasing his hard cock. He kicks his pants to the side before crawling onto her, leaving a trail of kisses as he does so. She can taste herself on his lips when he kisses her.

He rubs the head of his cock against her wet slit. She raises her hips, urging him to enter her. He can’t help but find her eagerness amusing, as it’s never changed. He sits up on his knees between her thigh, a small smirk playing on his lips as he continues teasing her. She shifts to be closer to him, and lifts her hips again.

“How can you tease me so?”

“You make it so easy,” he smirks.

His eyes soak her in while his hands soothe along her abdomen. He traces his fingertips along the soft swell of her breasts. He teases her nipples between his fingers until they're hard and sensitive.

“Do you want me to beg?” She groans.

“Of course," he smirks.

One of his hands soothes along her neck feeling her heightened pulse beneath his fingers.

“Please,” she whines. “Please fuck me.”

With a satisfied smile he pushes inside of her, relishing the soft moan she lets out when he does so. He gives her a moment to adjust to him before pulling all the way out, then he thrusts inside of her. She holds onto him as he begins setting a faster pace, pulling him to be on top of her.

Both of them are feeling greedy for the other. Sloppy kisses press against any bit of bare skin within reach. Her fingernails dig into his back as his pace quickens. He becomes relentless in his thrusting. She whispers his name over and over, reminding herself he’s really there. His heart beats against her chest, and the moans coming from him fill her ears. Tears begin pricking her eyes. She becomes a bit overwhelmed with the mix of pleasure and emotions flooding her. He notices, and stops thrusting.

“What’s wrong?”

She smiles, “Nothing is wrong. I’m just happy. Please don’t stop.”

He shakes his head before capturing his lips with hers. He begins thrusting again. Their tangled lips move together in perfect synchronization as his thrusts begin getting faster. Her orgasm begins to build again in her core. He brings one of her legs around his waist so he can thrust even deeper inside of her.

“You feel so good,” he groans against her neck. “Such a good girl.”

He reaches down to stroke her clit in sloppy circles. It takes no time for this to push her over the edge, and the pulsing of her walls around him urges his climax along with her. They ride out the highs together with sloppy kisses and words of praise.

He moves to lie down beside her. She snuggles against his chest, her fingers tracing all the scars on his body while they lay in silence. The only thing she could hear was the sound of his breathing.

“I should’ve stayed with you that day,” he whispers. “And I should’ve contacted you. I’m a damn fool.”

She looks up at him, “Is that the beginning of an apology?”

He chuckles, “It’s as close as you’re getting.”

“Hm, so Hell isn’t frozen over yet.”

She rests her head back on his chest. Alfie runs his fingers through her red curls until he finds sleep tugging at the corners of his eyes. He waits until she’s asleep before he allows himself to give into his own sleepiness. For the first time in months, he doesn’t dream about missing her.

[ghostmartyr]

SnK 127 Thoughts

“Let us speak for 46 pages about how we still don’t actually have any real plan, we’re just all very against genocide (except Magath and Yelena) and very upset and feel like we should be doing something.”

The characters are sort of doing my job for me this month.

Maybe this whole post should just be illicit screencaps from Crunchyroll with me providing links and saying, ‘and here’s the panel that makes the point I whined about in this post here.’

That would probably provide more entertainment than whatever I’m about to come up with.

-sees the amount of swearing in the first section-

Hm.

First off, fuck Magath.

Like no, I’m sorry. This is not about what happened 2000 years ago. You know what it’s about? It’s about Marley sending in child soldiers to assault and rob a land that had caused literally no problems for 100 years. It’s about Marley doing this despite being aware of its own history, being that their personal hero collaborated with the First King of Paradis to make Marley’s independence possible.

You want to talk about history, Magath?

Jean isn’t the one who sounds like a child.

Jean is reacting to actual pain that he has experienced in his lifetime thanks to Magath’s very intentional military strategies.

Magath is blaming Jean and everyone else on the island for being born.

That is not equivalent.

That is not remotely equivalent, and while Eren is being a fucking bastard about it, Jean’s right. Eren has the power, means, and will to do all of this because of what Magath and Marley did to Paradis.

Magath doesn’t recognize Eldians as people.

The Eldian Empire was bad.

No one except Floch is disputing that. That is how you know that it is bad.

Marley, as well as the rest of the world, has been free from the Eldian Empire for over a hundred years, and in that time, all they have done is take every horrible thing about the Eldian Empire and exploit it for their own gains.

Magath doesn’t get to be angry that he lives off the backs of abused, brainwashed children that he treats like crap.

Years ago, the Eldian Empire was the worst terror in the world.

A year ago, it was Marley.

Now, it happens to be Eren.

And you know, I’ve been actively against pretty much everything Eren’s done. His plan, if he has one, has mostly managed to make everyone angry and get a lot of people killed who weren’t even involved in the beginning. He gets his head blown off close enough to his brother that he doesn’t die. That’s how the beginning stages of him committing genocide goes. He betrays his friends, makes his besties from childhood feel like crap, and honestly has just been a dick to pretty much everyone.

But at least Eren���s indiscriminate murder has the decency to actually be indiscriminate.

Marley takes children it despises and turns them into their willing slaves for the promise of a better life they have no intent of dispensing. They take these children, and full of hatred for the very ability, demand that they shorten their lifespan and murder people to prove that they’re a “good Eldian” who deserves to live.

Marley is why people can stomach rooting for Eren.

Because Marley is such an abomination that it almost feels worth it to destroy the world if it means Marley’s gone too.

Hell, I’m with Hange. There’s not an avenue where I accept genocide as a way to deal with any of this.

But if someone wanted to burn Magath alive, and we spent a dozen pages gloriously detailing his flesh curling off his bones, it would make me happy.

That’s a more dignified death than he’s given any of the children he’s forced into Marley’s wars.

He does not have the fucking moral high ground.

He's the one Jean should have punched. There is not a single person around that campfire that he has not damaged deeply, and noticing that Gabi is a little girl and he cares when she is in pain does not magically remove that.

Fuck Marley. Fuck Magath.

Grow the fuck up and stop viewing genocide as an acceptable response, you fucking halfwit child. You are the individual who saw four children off on their solitary mission to murder thousands of people. Two of them are dead. Two of them are deeply traumatized, with one of them wishing he had died.

But oh yes, Magath. You’re the victim, here.

Because you baited one angry idiot with the power of a god into destroying part of a city you didn’t give a damn about.

Truly, your justice is a thing to aspire to.

Perhaps Eren taking notes is the real reason we’re here.

Motherfucking fuck I hate Marley. I hate that Eren’s put any of these characters in the position where they have to put up with this shit for the sake of civility. I don’t have a problem with the Warriors. I don’t have a problem with the Survey Corps. I don’t have a problem with the kidlets. Hi Onyankopon, sorry about your life. Yelena has many problems, but she’s also attractive, so I don’t mind as much.

Magath, though.

Pieck, just eat him. Everyone’s too depressed to really throw down over it at this point, and the two small ones are so deeply traumatized that one more body really isn’t going to make much of a dent.

Jean’s clearly the star of this chapter, and a good deal of that comes from the potent hopelessness hovering over him like a rain cloud.

He can point to how bad everyone is at talking things out like it’s the key to the entire mystery, but the long list of problems Jean offers at the beginning of the chapter are still present. Unless they have a way to talk to every person in the world out of their (at this point, rather justified) fear and anger, Paradis and Eldians around the world are very much screwed.

Paradis has forever been running out of time against the hatred the rest of the world has for them.

They do have to fight against what Eren’s doing, and talking instead of blowing each other’s heads off is a good start, but it’s a good start thousands of years after the worst possible one.

And the last time they tried to talk to Eren, Armin punched him, and that was the most productive thing to come out of it.

Jean being the everyman who recognizes the heart of an average person because he is one has been a great tool. It’s still great, here. He wants to close his ears to all of this. He wants, desperately, to run away, because there is no good solution that doesn’t end in death.

When he joins the Survey Corps, they at least have Eren as a brand of hope. They can believe that years of the same tactics and bodies piling up won’t end the same way.

Joining this squad is all about stopping Eren, and despite having figured out their next course of action, no one has yet to provide a real idea.

Genocide is wrong, so you stand up and try to stop it.

That’s the only plan they have.

The Scouts from Paradis don’t even have the promise of saving the people they love if they stop Eren. Annie, Pieck, Gabi, Reiner, Falco... they have a home. The world might forget to hate them. They might get to go home and have a life after this.

The people sitting on the other side of the fire are fucking screwed. They’re fighting entirely for their principles.

...Also Yelena is here.

I do like Yelena.

She’s not the worst, because this manga has too many horrible people in it, but she’s delightfully terrible. I especially like how the fact that she’s actually from Marley hardly gives her any pause.

I do so like Yelena.

It’s a beautiful sentiment.

After all, everyone’s drunk on something.

If you can just save the world, what does the rest matter? What do the crimes that kept you awake at night mean, when you’ve accomplished something so miraculous? All the good deeds cleanse the rottenness, and maybe then the world rights itself and you can breathe again.

...Hey wait, where’s Reiner’s reaction shot to finding out Gabi killed Sasha?

...Did he even know Sasha was dead?

But I guess we’re doing Marco angst.

Wow. Marco angst in 2020.

I think my favorite thing about this chapter (outside of the fact that Mikasa still hates Annie and it makes me giggly because wow Mikasa) is that Annie does absolutely nothing while Jean’s beating the crap out of Reiner.

My less favorite thing is I’ve stopped enjoying Reiner getting the crap beaten out of him. It’s been done, and... really the kid just needs to have not been born into this particular life. Watching Jean beat him bloody is. not cathartic. It’s really just awful.

Annie dodging with her food is glorious, though.

Because while Jean beating up Reiner over Marco is sad and kind of miserable, Annie watching someone beat up Reiner after the years she spent putting up with Reiner and Bertolt brings it back to almost funny.

Until you look at Reiner’s face and go back to feeling bad.

-turns page back to Annie getting out of the way-

Much better.

Truly, I love Annie.

Her forgiveness status is interesting, though. I think besides Marco, she enjoyed more of the kills she’s responsible for than anyone feels a need to dig up.

She’s also been more alone than most of the others in the wagons, and essentially spent four years imprisoned for her crimes.

I’m not surprised she asked, because she’s Annie, but I’m a bit surprised we don’t have an answer yet. Probably too close to the end of the chapter to open up that can of worms.

If it makes everyone feel better, I think we know for a fact that Mikasa will never forgive Annie for anything, even if it only displays itself as petty brandishing of weapons every time they make eye contact.

It’s not even a ship thing.

I just love that Annie is the one person Mikasa can’t stand. They’ve been in one chapter together and Mikasa’s already pulling out swords. These two shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near each other. It’s perfection.

Then we get to plot complications that really don’t register as complications because like. Yeah, you guys need something to do while you figure out what the hell you’re doing.

Because you don’t actually have a real plan, just so we’re clear.

Killing Eren would result in all those Wall Titans operating under their own power.

That is not fundamentally less destructive.

Killing Eren has a nice ring to it, but much like talking to Eren, it does not solve any of the other problems looming ahead.

So you enjoy your little subplot with Floch!

It’s one of the last times your combined competence will have any meaning.

-looks over at Kiyomi-

Honest question, but why are you alive if Floch dislikes you enough to hold you hostage? If Eren’s gonna kill everyone, shouldn’t Floch be following suit and just do his Floch thing of murdering every slight inconvenience?

We’re in the boring stages of the finale right now.

No clear plan for either side to contend with. No real progress in any direction because the tiny squabbles are just a delaying tactic for the massive squabble that no one has an answer to. None of any of this chapter really matters except for clearing the air.

Which is not a useless investment, it’s just not very exciting.

At this point, no excitement is allowed, because there’s that One Huge Thing, and the entire story hinges on it. Maybe someone will die on the way to dealing with it, but that’s all the drama we’re going to get until we find out enough about the plot to have a future worth rooting for.

Right now, there is no good outcome for the people we’ve watched fight for 127 chapters.

Pulling a story along with that weight is hard, and I can feel my brain turning itself off until we’re back to a point where the story is permitted to address the stegosaurus in the room.

One more month.

Again.

Until something happens and we all regret everything.

[padfootagain]

Nap Time

Here I come with a little fluffy thing with Sirius!! I know I haven't written much for my 3k event, but I still have the requests, so I'm writing a few once in a while. And I haven't written for Sirius in a while, so I had to come back to my baby!

I used the prompts that were asked by an anon :

20. "I love you."

"I know."

from Star Wars : The Empire Strikes Back.

53. "Can I stay for a while?"

"Stay forever."

from Notting Hill

Nothing but the cutest of fluff, honestly, everyone is happy and having a cute moment.

Gif not mine

Word Count (it's just a short little cute thing): 1308

It was just another rainy afternoon.

The sound of the droplets falling through the branches of the trees in your garden and against the windowpane was a soft melody that lulled you back to sleep. You had closed your eyes a few minutes before while reading this book about herbology, and couldn't find the strength to open them again.

It was Sunday after all, time to rest and enjoy the little things that made life beautiful, like the concerto the rain had decided to play through your garden for example.

You could feel your book slowly slipping out of your hold, but couldn't muster neither the strength nor the will to tighten your grip and stop it's fall. Your mind was drifting away already, starting to form dreams that all had this soothing sound of the falling raindrops.

Your book fell to the ground in a thud, but you barely acknowledged it. You were too far gone in sleep already.

But you did hear a low chuckle coming from behind you.

Sirius loved watching you sleep. He loved watching you in general, but you wore this innocent and serene expression when you slept, that never failed to make his feel calmer. No matter what worries were in his mind, the second he saw this angelic look on your face, they all vanished into thin air. No one but you had this talent to make him feel like everything would be alright. Like the world actually held more good than bad within it. Like the past wasn't as important as the present or the future.

He walked in the bedroom to pick up a blanket, and set it upon your relaxed form. You recognized the feeling of his palm onto your arm as he let his fingers linger down your limb and you smiled at the feeling.

You forced yourself to comeback to the present, and Sirius welcomed you back to reality with a smile.

"Well, well, well… look at what we have here. A napping baby."

You yawned, reaching for Sirius's hand, and as he wrapped his fingers around yours, he reckoned that this was the most adorable sight he had ever seen.

"I'm very tired. Are you done working?"

"Yeah… I'm sorry. I know it's Sunday and we were supposed to do something together today, but… Auror is a demanding job."

"I understand. Criminals aren't going to get arrested all by themselves. Besides, I know how much you love playing the hero."

"The hero? Me? I had always thought I was a prankster."

"You are both. Or, to be more precise, you're a hero who's trying to fool everyone by making lots of funny jokes."

"I knew it! My jokes are hilarious. I knew you were a fan of me and the boys back in the days."

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed your thoughts.

"Your pranks were terrible."

"They were brilliant."

"They were the reason I didn't want to date you when we were at Hogwarts."

"You didn't want to date me because you were a rebel, and you didn't want to look like a girl who was easy to catch."

"I just didn't like you at the time."

"Of course, you did."

"In your wildest dreams only."

"What made you change your mind then?" He rose an eyebrow with a playful smile, leaning against your armchair.

You played with his fingers in an intimate gesture, comparing the size of your two hands, intertwining your fingers, stroking your thumb against his.

"You can be a very charming asshole when you want to," you answered with humour, making him laugh.

"An asshole? Am I really supposed to take that as a compliment?"

"No, you aren't." You shook your head, dropping a sweet kiss on his knuckles. "You aren't an asshole. You're just a little annoying sometimes. But you're mostly a sweetheart who plays the tough guy."

"That's because I am tough."

"Oh really?"

"I am!" he faked outrage. "I am tough."

"Because you have an illegal motorcycle and a leather jacket?" you teased, and you knew he would take the bait, and he didn't fail you.

"Because I used to kick Death Eaters' arse on a daily basis. I am also an illegal Animagus. I have broken more rules in Hogwarts than anyone before me."

"You also turn into the cutest of puppies as an Animagus."

As to prove your point, he turned into his furry form, large black dog that licked the tip of your fingers enough to make you giggle, before he turned back into a man.

"You were saying? I'm a very scary dog."

You laughed, feeling your fatigue take over your whole being again, and you let your eyes close for a few seconds.

"I think I'll take a nap though," you yawned once more.

He took you hand in his again, and pulled gently.

"Let's get you to bed then."

You let out a moan.

"Sounds like a good idea. But I'm too tired to walk, so I think I'm gonna stay here."

Sirius let out a low chuckle.

"Well, then… I guess we don't have a choice. Move."

He pushed you until he could slip inside the armchair with you, and you ended up sitting partly on his lap, his arms wrapped around you. You snuggled into his embrace, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

You had been together for around a year now. Ever since the end of the war. But sometimes there were still moments when he doubted. Oh, he didn't doubt you, nor your relationship, or the way you made him happier than he had ever been. It was himself he doubted. His value. If he deserved you. If he was going too far, too fast. If he held back too much. If he was making you feel happy and safe and loved the way he longed to make you feel. You had learnt to recognize these moments of doubt in him. He grew quiet. He tensed a little more. He seemed lost in thought, his features painted with melancholia and a sad glint alit in his eyes.

You were so familiar with it by now, that you didn't need to look up at him to know that he was going through one of these moments.

You dropped a tender peck on his neck in response and covered his body with the blanket too. A wave of fondness washed over him at your gestures, and he was so touched by the way you loved him, that he was ready to cry.

"Can I stay for a while?" he asked with a fragile tone.

You smiled, your eyes still closed.

"Stay forever."

He tightened his hold on you as a response, a grin forming on his lips.

"Always with the excessive option, huh?"

"Why? Would it be so terrible if we stayed like this forever?"

He kissed your temple.

"No, that would be quite a good way to spend eternity, actually."

"Yes. You make a very comfortable armchair."

He let out a laugh.

"I should make you pay then."

"Pay to sit on you?"

"Well, yes, I'm apparently a human armchair, don't you think this deserves some retribution?"

"What if I pay you in kisses? Is that enough for you?"

He faked to be thinking about it, but ended up kissing your temple again.

"Fair enough."

He closed his eyes as well, listening to your breathing as each intake of breath was deeper and slower. You were drifting towards sleep again, relaxing in his arms, but before you would surrender to slumber for good, you had one more thing to say.

"I love you."

A mischievous grin formed on his lips as he answered, making you both chuckle.

"I know."

It took the two of you less than five minutes to be deeply asleep.

**********************

Tag list : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi @presstocontinue @ilmiopiccolounivers0 @madamrogers @drinix @sad-orange-thoughts @mxrihollxd @geeksareunique @giggleberts @justanothermaraudersblog @sad-orange-thoughts @aylinnmaslow @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla @drinix @joelynnp @mxrihollxnd @mikeselevenn @knowledgeisthebomb @madamrogers @newtstarmander @wangmangagavroche

[trashpandaorigins]

The Body Keeps the Score Ch. 15 Where We’re Going Where We’ve Been

You said it yourself bitch, we're the Guardians of the Galaxy." Gamora is finally a part of something. But the past always follows you, eats at you and she must come to grips with her deeds as she tries to build a future. Meanwhile Rocket has never cared much for anyone or anything. Together the two of them discover they are more alike than different and try to heal themselves by befriending the other.

*Content Warnings: Mentions of child/animal abuse, trauma, character death, physical torture/pain*

Title of this fic is taken from the book of the same title "The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma," by Bessel van der Kolk

Daughters sharpen their knives and they hunt for food, others watch their children grow

Mothers going to work, and they shake the hands of a corporate tycoon's ghost

And I'm afraid, ah, I'm so afraid

Ah, what if I lose?, is what I think to myself

I'm finding my shell, I’m afraid of it all, afraid of loving you

So Afraid - Janelle Monae

Back in the beginning when she and the others were newly taken, when they were still themselves, Gamora, Proxima, Nebula and the others dreamt of escaping. Each attempt was futile of course. No matter how strategic Proxima tried to be, no matter how thorough Gamora had surveyed the guards and goons. They were caught. On the eleventh and last attempt they’d been so close. Proxima was getting the stolen ship ready for takeoff, it was Gamora who insisted on waiting for their youngest sister. And when the cyborg girl-more her own flesh then metal at this point-finally had appeared, it was with Thanos. She had told him of their escape plan. That was the first time she had tasted the bitterness of betrayal.

Even now, walking the streets of Tarque with Peter, Drax and Groot she kept a lookout for Nebula. One hand on her sword, the other swinging by her side, ready to reach out and seize anyone who dared come close.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Peter whispered as they walked. His warm breath against her ear tickled, making her stomach flit pleasantly for a moment. “We’ll find some way to explain this to the Nova Corps, there must be a mistake.” Gamora only bit her lip, to have an ounce of Peter’s laid back attitude. I envy it. She forced a nod, maybe it would be okay. Maybe. Probably not.

“We killed their officers and destroyed their ships!”

She whispered back, inching just close enough to him.

“Yeah, well... I mean…”

His voice drifted off.

“Awe crap,”

“What is it?” Drax asked, turning to the two of them.

“Nah, it’s just that I wanted to look over which planets in the Keystone quadrant had Nova Corps bases but I left the little thingy back on the ship.”

“I’ll go,” Gamora immediately volunteered. She needed to clear her head, get some space.

“Gamora, are you sure you want to be walking around alone after our recent battle?” Drax asked, a concerned kindness she almost never saw from the man. She grinned, appreciatively.

“Thank you Drax, but I”ll be fine.”

The destroyer’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded after a time, conceding.

Gamora left the three of them, making down the winding thoroughfare back to the Benatar. Eyes scanning every which way for any sign of trouble.

The Nova Corps would know of the fight by now. They’ll notice that three ships did not come back and none of the officers….they’ll come after us. Kill us. Capture me. The thought of another cage made her heart quake with dread. Thanos, Nova Corps. A prison was a prison. She walked on, darting between people, examining them for any concealed weapons or motives. Tarque was small, but no less reassuring. Gamora looked behind her, every several feet, checking the alleys and shadowy corners. Looking up into the buildings and the ships that flew low above the streets. If she were here Nebula could be hiding anywhere, and so could Nova Corps agents.

Under arrest for endangering my crew? Preventing further harm to planets and peoples? I didn’t endanger anyone…. her mind rolled through the list of decisions, and arguments, and recent actions in the past few turns.Finally out of the throngs of people the orange, blue chrome of the Benatar stood out. Gamora breathed a sigh of relief.

She looked around her once more, palms sweaty. Jogging forward Gamora quickly punched in the codes and ran up the ramp of the ship, sealing the doors shut.

Calm down, breathe. In...out...you’re in the ship, which has more security systems in place than most prisons.

Still she did not let her guard down, peering around each corner and down every hallway towards Peter’s quarters.

Something creaked, Gamora’s heart spasmed a moment, instantly pulling out her sword instantly expecting some enemy.  Right, left….above...down.. something blinked:

Rocket’s data pad. That should have plenty of maps on it.

She picked it up fiddling with the thing. Something blinked, a hologram appearing on the screen.

“Incoming Message: Officer Vakrien of the Nova Corps.”

Her stomach dropped, knees swaying.

No….no he wouldn’t….not after everything they’d gone through. Even someone as selfish and greedy for units wouldn’t...  

Gamora selected the icon. The image of a helmeted Nova Officer appeared, reciting a pre-recorded message.

“Subject 89P13, your intelligence has proven most valuable. We are on our way to you now to apprehend Gamora. We appreciate your cooperation. We are transferring another  60,00000.00 units to you.. However, if your crew or yourself should attempt to hinder our arrest you will also be arrested. We look forward to your continued cooperation.”

The message ended with a static, the hologram of the officer going fuzzy and clicking off showing the blank screen.

He did….he... she swallowed, mouth dry. Her stomach turned with discontent. The wires beneath her flesh pricked and stung. The very arm which he’d taken such good care of now trembled. How dare he......after everything… Gamora gripped the data pad tightly, stuffing it into her pack. He healed me….he...cared…no. Thanos said he cared too, Thanos would heal her wounds occasionally, speaking sweetly as he did to comfort her, reassure her. Only to laugh as she was tested the following day. She warred with herself conjuring the image of Rocket dexterously fixing her wounds. The oddly soft way he’d spoken to her. Thanos whispered nice things too. Made me believe he loved me…. the memories of it threatened to drown her. She stormed off the ship. That miserable….rat! No, he’s not a rat. But... I thought he changed. No he hadn’t and she was fool enough to believe it.

Rage simmered, rushing into the place of raw sorrow and dejection. Betrayal. I trusted him…. she thought painfully.

Then, even worse the realization dawned on her:....... he was my friend.

She sniffed,  straightened and tightened her grip on her sword. Where is he? She bypassed the main street, slipping down alleyways. No wonder the treacherous rodent slunk away as soon as we landed. She walked with purpose, peeking into every bar window.

“How could I have been so stupid?”

How long had he been feeding the information? Since they left Xandar? Since they’d broken out of the Kyln?

“Evmon’s,” Gamora spotted the glowing sign across the way and dashed towards it, looking through the dirty window. There he is, the image of the raccoonoid illicit  an all consuming fury in her chest, weeping out of  the hurt and vulnerability. She pushed open the door, ready for yet another battle.

“You,”

Rocket turned slowly in his stupor. Already reeking and blinking slowly.

“You betrayed me to the Nova Corps!”

The words tumbled out, bubbling up from the place of self-loathing and hatred Thanos had so keenly exploited. Gamora shouted down at him, miserable wretch.

“Star-Shit?” He mocked cruelly, those foreign animal orbs eyeing her. He could see through her, into the feelings she harbored for Peter, he was trying to exploit them.

“Groot,” she corrected.

Make him hurt. He’s a monster….like Thanos and he manipulated you just like Thanos did. You fell for it. After all this time you fell for it.

“ I thought...we were a family after that. That we could be something better. Groot taught me that.”

It was true after all. The large flora had sacrificed himself for all of them, her and Rocket included. Though she’d hardly ever done anything to warrant such a selfless act. The longest she and Groot had ever interacted was when she’d lopped his limbs off.

I never apologized for that, she realized. But in this instance of hurt and betrayal she twisted that guilt back, spouting it upon Rocket.

“I guess his death wasn’t worth much after all. Not to you anyway.”  The words were out of her mouth before she could stop it. The drunk ringtail flinched, alien eyes narrowed.

“You were right Rocket. You are a monster. I’m sorry Groot didn’t realize that sooner. It would’ve saved him if he had.” The grief of it made her voice crack. The raccoonoid was not the only one who missed that calming, innocent, stable presence amid a very unstable life.

Rocket inhaled sharply, his bottom lip quivering. Something beamed within her, satisfied at his hurt. Good, she mused inwardly. He’d hurt her, terribly. But Gamora was never one to succumb to a blow. Oh no, she resolved, she’d beat him back and hit twice as hard because that was the only thing that had ever kept her alive.

“Your heart. You have none. The only thing that's there is a cybernetic pump. No different then this tap,”

The ringtail spluttered for words, mouth agape. His usual blustery demeanor now diminished. Wounded.

“Shut up! You don’t know what the flark your talking about!” He tried to defend, but it was no good. Gamora huffed, eyes wild.

“I saw the scans Rocket. You had them saved on your data pad. You want to know what was in there? A metal pump with wiring connected to your main circulatory system. There’s no heart. Just a machine.”

 The lie was out of her before she could stop it. Of course she’d seen a passing file on the data pad labeled “89P13,” assuming it contained images of Rocket’s past but she hadn’t opened it. She fumed but the traitor in front of her didn’t seem to notice the lie. His own pain turning to anger as quickly as her own.

“Shut up! You're no better than Thanos!”

It was her turn to look struck, though she should’ve anticipated it from someone so defensive as Rocket. I am nothing like Thanos.  The ringtail of all people should know, how hard it was to separate yourself from your creator. His words cut deep, to the bone.

Enough of this,

She snatched him up by the back of his head, depositing him out on the street.

“When we get back to the ship, I’m telling the rest of them what you’ve done,”  she stated. Rocket quaked, trying to gather himself up.

“N...no!” He slurred, giving her one last nasty snarl. She shrugged, not bothering to indulge his tantrum.

Gamora stalked away, back into the crowds. Better to be attacked by a stranger then someone you know.

She found Drax, Peter and Groot shortly, following the little flora’s incessant “I am Groot-ing”

“Gams!” Peter grinned across the way, opening his arms for a hug. “There you are! You got the maps?”

She allowed herself to be wrapped in his arms, if only for a moment. Safe, comfortable. Too safe. Too comfortable. She pulled away, revealing Rocket’s data pad from her bag.

Predictably the raccoonoid indeed have an interactive map of all Nova Corps bases not only in the Keystone Quadrant but every quadrant in the known galaxy. Intel on their total numbers, codes to several of their files included their most wanted list and their registry of bounty hunters in their employ, of which he himself was still registered.

Peter’s words of assurance did little to calm her nerves. Her mind inwardly toiling with mixed emotions of fury and raw hurt peppered now and again by occasional guilt.

I should not have lied about the scans.

“Okay so good news is there’s no Nova base on Tarque!” Peter exclaimed happily. We’ll head back to the ship and go from there. I’ll transmit a message to Danarian Dey, let him know it was honestly our bad for killing those guys and we’ll smooth things over, how’s that sound?”

How Gamora wished she could believe him, wanted to allow herself that peace of mind. His efforts to make things better were heartening. But she could hardly reciprocate, not with the drip drip drop of Rocket’s betrayal eating away at her like acid.

I have to tell him, she looked up again at Peter’s bright eyes. In the moment Gamora managed a nod, and a smile as they turned and headed back to the Benatar.

“I am Groot?”

“I’m sure our furry friend will catch up to us,” Drax assured the little flora with a pat on the back.  

“I AM Groo!!” Gamora swallowed the irritation of Groot’s cries.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go get him,” Peter offered, turning to her as if for permission. This time she could not bring herself to nod or smile, but motioned for Drax and Groot to follow her. She watched Peter taper off through the streets, the air of momentary levity gone with him.

---

Gamora retreated to her quarters as soon as they made it back on the ship. She needed to hide, to get away and be gone from all of them.

Nova Officers would come after them again. They would not give up the hunt, they were ruthless in their prosecution. I got into this mess, by trusting. By thinking that vermin was capable of friendship.

She practiced with her blade the remainder of the evening, swinging and slicing, turning her animosity into something productive, something that could serve her.

“Again Gamora,”

Thanos words toyed with her mind. She thrust forward, stabbing the target with the tip of her sword.

“You will have to do better than that,” and then he’d sigh, or shake his head and gesture for Ebony Maw to take her, for another session of procedures, for more modifications.

“No!” She screamed, twisting and slicing again.

“G...Gamora?”

Peter.

She tried to steady her breath, wiping her head with the back of her arm and wiped her blade; putting it away before she opened the doors to her quarters.

“You look...good,” he tried awkwardly.

“I’m covered in sweat,” she laughed, this time genuine.

“Yeah well...I just mean...you...you look….like, ready for battle.”

She stepped aside allowing him to enter. He looked around awkwardly, anywhere but her.

“You don’t have a lot of stuff in here,” he noticed.

“I don’t have a lot of stuff anywhere. Thanos allowed us no possessions but our choice weapons and I didn’t exactly catch the orb on Xandar thinking I’d join this….this…” she gestured with her hands. Peter’s eyes shifted around, considering, then finally landed on her again.

“I’m sorry Gamora, I didn’t mean…”

“It was Rocket.”

She picked up a weight on the ground and lifted it with ease, focusing on taunt muscle and the sweet burn of her body pushing itself.

“W...what do you mean?”

She put the weight down, with more force than necessary and sat on her bunk, hands gripping the metal rim of it. Body tense and rigid with exertion.

“It was Rocket who sold me out to the Nova Corps.”

Peter blinked, fumbling for a moment and finally sat down beside her. She watched his arm move out of the corner of her eye, almost making to place it around her but stopped, placing it back in his lap.

“He wouldn’t. I mean, he’s bad. But he’s not that bad. He wouldn’t do that to any of us. Say what you want about him. He’s not a snitch and you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Gamora smiled, tentatively placing her hand on his. Large and warm and always open. He squeezed it but made no further motion, stars knew how grateful she was for that.

“Do you still have his data pad?”

Peter nodded it, pulling it out. Gamora found the messages easily and tapped the one from Officer Vakrien. The message played, but she hardly heard, staring down into the floor and curling her fingers around the metal rim of her bunk. That inexorable rage rose in her again, she almost wished the raccoonoid was here.  Her attention moved back to Peter, watching him take it in. His eyes widened, listening then set his lips in a firm line, brow furrowed. The recording clicked off.

“That little…..” the man’s eyes searched for a while, Gamora could only imagine the various scenarios playing out in his mind. Finally Peter’s look softened. 

“....what do you want to do about it?” Gamora huffed, flopping backward uncharacteristically laid back down on her cot, staring up at the chrome ceiling of her small room.

“I confronted him,” she sussed out. “Back on Tarque, I….what’s the expression, let him have it?”

Peter laughed, laying down sideways next to her, one arm propping his head up so he looked down at her with ….admiration? Sympathy? Understanding? Longing? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“I lied to him,” she finally muttered, redirecting her gaze upward. “Told him I looked at the scans on the file he must’ve stolen of himself.” Peter’s face twisted in confusion but he let her continue, leaning only slightly closer, listening. 

“He told me once, he doesn’t know what his creators did to him. If they replaced his flesh and blood heart with metal machinery like nearly everything else.” She took a deep breath, “It eats at him. I can tell.” The same way it eats at me.  After all, Ebony Maw did much more than simple enhancements for fighting. They were both, as it were, built to be weapons. She shivered. Peter reached out, gently rubbing the ball of her shoulder. Gamora only stiffened once but found herself relaxing under his coaxing touch. He withdrew after a moment.

“But….so what?”

She frowned.

“So what if he has a flesh and blood heart or not? What he did was heartless. He acted heartless and my mom always said actions speak louder than words. Or...I guess...body parts in this case? Man...that’s..weird...but...I guess taken out of context..”

“What’s your point Peter?” She nudged, hopefully not unkind.

“My point, ooof yeah my point is,” he flopped the reset of the way down beside her on the bed, the two of them laying just close enough that she could feel his warmth. I could lean into it...it’d be so nice and safe….relaxing. Peter wouldn’t hurt me. Wouldn’t betray my trust. Maybe he’s the only one who wouldn’t. No….no he could just as well. You felt safe when Rocket was holding your hand in the forest, you felt comfortable when he was checking out your wounds in the common area...Peter is no different. You can’t. You’ve already let your guard down once. Do not do it again. Do not do it again little one. Thanos taunts echoed from the back of her head. She bit back the anxiety, focussing on Peter’s words.

“It doesn’t matter even if he does have a literal heart. Or a machine, whatever is in there certainly isn’t making him into some altruistic hero. He...he betrayed you, he lashed out at Groot, he’s nothing but mean and unforgiving to all of us...he’s acting heartless. And besides, you could be right. They could have replaced a little raccoon heart with something more...uhh...advanced. I mean everything under his skin is probably cybernetic. In all likelihood you’re right. But it doesn’t even matter.”

Gamora nodded, considering. He had a point. A good one. One that was assuring and placated, at least for a moment her guilt at lying.

“You know,” he continued with that impish tone she’d come to recognize as ‘I have an idea. It’s probably not a good one and you’ll never agree to it but I’m going to say it on the off chance you do agree.’She decided to humor him this one time. “We could find out the truth,” he moved his fingers across the data pad, clicking open several files until he reached the one labeled 89P13.  Gamora slapped his hand away,

“That’s private, we shouldn’t.”

“Awe co’mon now I’m really curious!”

“No Peter,” she repeated, though less stern. “I may have been unsure about the truth but that isn’t ours to discover. If Rocket really wanted to know the answer to that question, he would’ve looked at his own scans by now. He hasn’t done that because he knows the truth. He’s a hardened little monster,” she spat. Even Peter flinched this time but did not leave her.

“Well,” he began slowly, putting the pad down on the bed behind him. “I did just see Rocket off. He went somewhere in our last escape pod.”

“What?!” Gamora sat upright,

“Yeah, he didn’t say where he was going just that...I’m to take care of Groot if he doesn’t come back in a bit and...he told me to...tell you that he’s sorry. Wow this makes so much more sense now that I know he was snitching on you and got chewed out for it.”

“Any idea where he went?”

“No,” Peter sat up beside her. “But we can find out. He took the only other escape pod after Nebula grabbed the first one….we really need to start putting some security procedures and locks on those things.”

“The Nova Corps may have already  caught up to him,” Gamora thought aloud. “If he’s caught by the Nova Corps he’ll tell them where we are.”

“...you think he’d do that?” Peter broached slowly. Gamora raised a brow skeptically. The man nodded, reluctant.

The woman reached up, running a hand through her hair.

“How could I have been so stupid? You think running from Thanos and Nebula would teach me a lesson,” she shook her head pursing her lips.

“What lesson?” Peter asked gently, he stood up, coming to her slowly, tentatively as if waiting for her to swat him away. She eyed him carefully, planting her hands on her hips, pacing.

“Trust,” she answered curtly.

Peter looked at her with sympathy, his hands gingerly touching her wrists. He stood close, the scent of leather and fuel and maybe some sweet rellian candies lingering on his body and breath. Gamora clenched her jaw, willing herself not to blush, not to feel at ease, not to lean into him.

“When I was with Yondu as a kid, man, I couldn’t trust anyone, especially not the blue bastard himself. I used to hide in the storage or up in the ventilators in fear of being eaten, or beaten or dragged into some dangerous scheme,” he spoke with unbelievable ease. “...after a while the only person I trusted was myself. But….for what it’s worth, I trust you.”

She glanced up at him sharply, her eyes softened. She took his hands, and allowed him to rub her arms. He smiled, sadly this time, bittersweet.

“You do?” She whispered.

“Yeah, Gamora, I do.”

He inched towards her, face close to her, their noses almost touched. Lingering in that space just before intimacy, so close. Gamora yearned for it, closing her eyes. She was not about to kiss this human on Knowhere, not even with his music in her ears and the shimmering celestial stars all around them-but here….on this ship, now...maybe, just maybe she could…

“Quill! Gamora!”

Drax’s shout from the other side of the door shattered their moment. Gamora’s heart sank as she stepped back. Peter pressed his lips into a thin line, closing his eyes,

“What is it Drax?”

“If you two are not engaging in intercourse I have a plan for how we may seek out and destroy this traitor.”

Gamora gave Peter one last grin, opening the door to her quarters.

The large tattooed man looked between them in confusion.

“So you are not having a sexual encounter?”

“No man of course not!”

“Oh….that is too bad. You would make a handsome pair. “

“What was your point Drax?”

“Well, I have been thinking about this treacherous fiend. I say that we go back to every planet and place we have been since Xandar and destroy anyone we came in contact with if they do not agree to tell us the truth.”

“Drax I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gamora reasoned.

Do I tell Drax? There will be no hope for him and Rocket if I do, with one so honor bound as him.

“Drax, where’s Groot?” Peter wondered all of a sudden concerned with the well being of the sapling.

“Oh,” the Destroyer looked over each shoulder, then to the ground and frowned. “I do not know where the small dumb tree went. He was annoying me so I went to find you.”

Peter grumbled something, shaking his head and leaving to go find the little flora; not before throwing Gamora one last sympathetic look. She returned it, waving for him to find Groot.

“Gamora,” Drax rumbled.

She stopped, going rigid for a moment glancing at her swords laying nearby.

“I just want to assure you, it was not me who was selling you out to the Nova Corps. I would never betray my friends that way.”

“Thank you Drax.”

“I would very much like to disembowel the honorless traitor myself. But, I will restrain myself. When we find them, I would be honored to watch you laugh as they screamed. And marvel as you bathe in their blood.”

“.....Thank you Drax,” Gamora placed a hand on his large shoulder, the skin raised and taunt, rippling with tattoos. He returned the gesture comfortably with a bubbling beaming smile she had not seen outside of fighting. Warmth crept into her chest, different from that she felt with Peter and different from...the friendship she had felt when she took Rocket’s hand. But still budding and strong with potential.

“Guys,” Peter called. Drax and Gamora took off down the hall towards his voice. “I found Groot!”

They came on to the flight deck of the Benatar, Peter crouching over Groot who was playing with the controls of the two escape pods.

“I found Groot….and Rocket.”

Gamora looked at the screen, used for tracking the pods. A crude map of the Keystone Quadrant with a blinking blue dot shown in the fourth sector, drifting further away. She scrutinized the screen, another set of blinking catching her eyes. The second pod, Nebula.  Her escape pod was flying just inside the third sector. The realization dawned on her slowly, anger returning anew.

“Peter,” she whispered, “I know where Rocket’s going.”

[spectraspecs-writes]

Tatooine - Chapter 65 (Zaalbar, Carth)

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 64. Chapter 66.

@averruncusho, @ceruleanrainblues thank you for reading you get a tag. @skelelexiunderlord thank you for your support you get a tag.

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

It’s about thirteen hours from Tatooine to Kashyyyk, but these gizka are threatening to drive everybody nuts before we get there. For a little while, we managed to keep them isolated in the cargo hold, but someone must have opened the door long enough for them to get out. According to Canderous, Juhani found one in the fresher this morning and screamed, before muttering curses in Cathar. Personally, I think they’re adorable, but I’m in the minority. These little frogs are testing even Bastila’s patience. 

But they are simply adorable in my opinion. They like to be scratched behind the little nubs where their ears should be. It makes them purr a little. Unfortunately I’ve petted enough of them to have a small mob hopping behind me. HK wants to shoot them all but that’s not a very good option. We’d end up with a pile of dead bodies. And gizka aren’t particularly tasty so we couldn’t do much with the dead. I think Zaalbar tried to eat one of them, but couldn’t finish it. They’re just not that appetizing to anyone but Ithorians and Aqualish. And at this point they aren’t fit to sell for food - the regulations are very strict as I understand it as to who can sell gizka, the circumstances they’re raised under, the food they can eat while being raised. If they’d been delivered to the right people instead of to me, that’s probably where they’d have ended up.

If they’re still here by the time we’re done with the Star Forge, I’ll see about taking them to one of their native worlds, but until then they’re along for the ride.

Zaalbar has asked for my help trying to wrangle them once more into the cargo hold - which is the only place on the ship large enough to house them all now - and I’m helping him, but I don’t see how much good it’s going to do. If I may coin a phrase, the gizka’s out of the bag, so to speak. It’d be easier to keep them out of places than it would be to keep them in. 

When his makeshift gate collapses again, he groans in exasperation as the gizka hop out of the cargo bay again. “I’m telling you it would be a lot easier to just set up little electrical fields to keep them out of the dormitory quarters and the fresher. I can pick up some parts for it on Kashyyyk,” I tell him.

Zaalbar sort of huffs a sigh. His heart just isn’t in this anymore. “You okay?” I ask.

“Kashyyyk…” he says softly, slowly, “... my home. I should prepare you to go… but I don't know if I'm prepared myself.”

“How do you mean?” I ask him.

“I didn't leave Kashyyyk voluntarily. Mission must have told you how I was fleeing slavers… but there was more,” he says, “I am an exile. The slavers on Kashyyyk only took me after I was forced to leave my village home, 20 years ago.”

“Why were you forced to leave? What happened?”

“My brother made deals with the slavers and allowed them to get a foothold,” he says, “I found out and attacked him. The fight was stopped, but my father did not believe me when I told him about my brother's actions. I was made an exile, disowned by my home and people. I should not be here. They will not accept me back.”

“Why didn’t your father believe you?”

I almost get a sense of shame from him. “When I attacked my brother,” he says, “I was so mad… I used my claws. You don't understand what that means to a Wookiee. Our claws are tools, not weapons. To use them in battle is to become an animal. It is madness without honor. I am forever a madclaw in the eyes of my people. Nothing I say is to be trusted. They were right to cast me out.”

“Maybe things have changed,” I say, trying to be optimistic.

“Perhaps,” he says skeptically, “I just hope I can prove myself to my people. It will be difficult to make them listen. I just don’t know. I don’t have much hope.”

“Well,” I say, “I know it doesn’t mean much, but you’re always welcome here.” He sort of grunts. Perhaps that was the wrong thing to say.

-------

I knock on the bulkhead near the cockpit and Carth turns. “Hey,” he says before looking back at the controls, “What’s up?”

“Want a co-pilot?” I ask, “My piloting skills aren’t that great, but under the tutelage of a master such as yourself, I…”

“Don’t be such a kiss-ass,” he says with a smile, “Have a seat.”

I come the rest of the way in and turn the co-pilot’s chair.

There is a gizka sitting in the chair.

“There’s a gizka here,” I say.

“Yep.”

“Did you… put the gizka there?”

“Nope.” So I pick up the gizka and it wriggles out of my hands onto the deck, hopping away. So I sit down. “Although,” he says, grinning, “I was enjoying its company.” 

“Shut up,” I tease, surveying the controls. “I’m really not a good pilot,” I say, “I can navigate okay, but at least in surface vehicles I hit a lot of things.”

“Well, hyperspace is the most stable part of the trip,” he says, “Not much really needs doing.”

“Seems like the perfect time for me to come in, then,” I say, trying to interpret sensor readouts, “I won’t break anything or shoot somebody, run somebody over.”

“Well, you could knock us off the hyperspace route,” he replies, “Then we’d be in trouble.”

I quickly pull my hands off the console. “Maybe I shouldn’t touch anything then.”

He laughs, just a little. “I’m just saying it’s possible,” he says, “The controls for that are over here, anyway.”

I shake my head. “I guess I should just stick to droids,” I say, and I start to stand up.

“No, please, stay,” he says, “I could use the company, same as you.”

I stay, but -- “What do you mean, same as me?”

“You didn’t need my help to work on HK-47 the other day,” he says, “You didn’t even want my help. My company was a lot more valuable than my assistance. If it was just another set of hands you wanted, you would have used Teethree.”

I start to open my mouth, but I don’t say anything. “Uh-huh,” he says, “You know…” And then it just drops off. “Never mind,” he says, shaking his head, “Come on, where’s the woman with all the questions I was stuck with on Taris?”

Out of questions for the moment. Although I am curious what he was about to say. But when has a direct question worked on Carth? Something seems to be bothering him, he’s just putting up a front. I can’t tell if my people skills are telling me that or the Force, or what, but I know. “Well,” I say, “here’s a question for you, if you’re so eager.”

“Fire away.”

“Tell me why you want revenge on Saul so badly.”

He looks a bit surprised. “I already told you,” he says, “He betrayed us all.”

I shrug. “It just seems to be more… personal than that, that’s all.”

He sort of tosses his head a bit, looking a bit hesitant. But hey, he did tell me to fire away. “Well,” he starts to say hesitantly, “there… there is more to it. I'm… I'm sure you don't want to hear about it.”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“It's just that I… don't talk about it very much. Okay?” Obviously. “I told you about my homeworld. Telos. Four years ago, Saul led the Sith fleet there and demanded its surrender. The planet refused and Saul proceeded to devastate its entire surface. Millions died.”

He hesitates again. “I had… a wife and son on Telos.”

Oh, so he was a dad. I knew it. Come on, Rena, not really the time for that, is it? “I thought they would be safe there,” he continues, “But my task force arrived too late to be of much help.” He takes his hands off the controls, just sort of letting them rest on the panel. “We didn't have enough medical supplies. The colony was burning and the dying were everywhere. I-I remember holding my wife and screaming for the medics.” And for a moment, I can see it, hear it, feel it like a rock on my chest. It’s weird, and I don't think either of us wanted it to happen. I’d have to ask Bastila about it to know for sure (and I know neither of us want that either), but I guess the emotion of the memory is just so strong that I just… felt it, I don’t know. “They… didn't come in time.” The feeling starts to fade. But I’ll never forget it. And neither will he.

“I’m so sorry,” I say softly, “That’s terrible. I had no idea.”

He stammers a little. “Of course not. How could you?” He shakes his head and goes back to the controls. “I… had nothing left after that, really. I devoted myself to the fleet. Hunting Saul was my only purpose. I… I miss them,” he says. His mind isn’t really on the ship. “I know killing Saul won't bring them back, and it won't make me happy again… but I have to do it. I don't expect you to understand. I have to pay him back for what he's done - I have to. It's all I have left.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” I say.

“No, it’s alright,” he says, “I don’t mind.” Well that’s a change.

“What was she like, your wife?”

He smiles. Of course he does. “She had courage… and she was stubborn.” He chuckles shortly. “A bit like you, in that respect.” (I felt a weird jealousy for a minute, but now it’s gone.) “I could never talk her out of anything once she put her mind to it. And she hated it when I signed back onto the fleet at the start of the war. I had planned on- on leaving soon, to join her…”

It’s nice to know where all the anger comes from. I couldn’t get over that either. “So what happened to your son?” I ask, “You never said.”

“His name was Dustil,” he says, “and I don't know what happened to him. The colony was a complete ruin, and we never found any trace of him.” Ouch. “I made inquiries and followed the reports from Telos for years, but… I stopped.”

We’re both quiet for a little bit, before I give a grim chuckle and say, “I guess this isn’t what you had in mind when you asked for my company, is it?”

He returns the chuckle. “No, but to be honest, I’m just glad you’re here. I like it when you’re around.”

“What a charmer,” I say. I’m glad to see him smile again. “You’re the most normal person on the ship to talk to. Canderous has nothing but war stories, which Mission loves but you have to be in the right mood for it, in my opinion. Juhani’s… a bit clingy, don’t tell her I said that. HK is… HK.” He laughs a bit at that. “And Bastila usually just wants to talk about Revan and Malak.”

He shakes his head. “To think that I once looked up to those two as the best that humanity had to offer,” he says, “Now I'd like nothing more than to put a blaster to both their heads. Although I suppose only Malak is left, isn't he? Turned on his own master, not that Revan didn't have it coming.” A wry chuckle. “Typical for their kind, I guess.”

“Did you ever meet either of them? Bastila hates talking about Revan.”

“I didn’t know them personally. They aided the Republic during the Mandalorian wars. They were heroes. Without them the Mandalorians would have finished us for certain. In the fleet, we didn't see much of the Jedi. I only met Malak once, but I was impressed by him,” he says, “I guess that just shows how much the Dark Side can change someone.”

“Do you… know why they turned?” I ask. I don’t take Bastila’s concerns seriously, but then maybe I don’t have enough information.

“Nobody does.” Well, that’s helpful. “When they left after the Mandalorian wars ended, they were Jedi. When they returned… they were something else. They had an entire fleet with them. Nobody knows where they got the ships. They had a lot of them and as the years have passed there always seems to be more and more… while our forces dwindle.”

“I have a feeling the Star Forge has something to do with that,” I say, “I mean, all the Dark Side I felt in the ruins on Dantooine, I’d be surprised if it didn’t have something to do with them.”

“In the end, the Dark Side won’t help them,” Carth says.

“You say that like you know something about it,” I say.

“I, uh… I used to think that it was a fancy name for something that I see every day. Corruption is everywhere. People are greedy and stupid and do horrible things,” he says, “I'm starting to think it's different for the Jedi, however. That there's this evil watching them, waiting for its chance.”

“Wow,” I say, “somehow you make it more ominous than Bastila.”

“I mean, you have so much courage and strength in you... yet, somehow, I have no trouble imagining it differently. Like the flip side of a coin,” he says. Please give me some words of comfort. “It's not just you. It's Bastila, as well. She's so... intense.”

I scoff. “Tell me about it.” 

“I don't pretend to know much about the Force,” he says, “… but I know evil.”

That’s an interesting thing to say. “You think Bastila and I are evil?”

“No, of course not,” he says quickly. Good, finally something comforting. “All I'm saying is that when you have so much power, the stakes are higher. I can only imagine the kind of conflict that goes on inside you. Neither you nor Bastila are fully trained on how to handle your power.” Well, that’s certainly true. “I'm just concerned at what might come.”

Oh, my God, what is that feeling? “That’s sweet,” I say, “I didn’t know you cared.”

He tries to backpedal, but the damage, so to speak, is done. “Well,” he stammers a bit, “that’s not what I… I mean… I wouldn’t want to see you hurt. Either of you.” Uh-huh. Sure. “I suppose finding the Star Maps is more important than your training… and your safety,” he says, “I just hope there isn’t a price for you to pay.”

“Believe me,” I say, “so do I.”

[honeymoonlover-moved]

Iron Angel [Prologue] // MCU OC

summary: the story of the estranged daughter of tony stark and her journey growing up amongst aliens, gods, and super soldiers - maybe this was fate

word count: 2,566

warnings: slight smut if you squint your eyes (like it’s barely smut), unplanned pregnancy, kissing/making out

a/n: y’all I did it. i finally started writing for my oc. i’ve had this character/idea/story in mind since infinity war came out (yes it took me this long leave me alone lol) and i’m happy to share it with y’all! ask to be added on the tag list here! sorry if the “read more” isn’t working!

SERIES MASTERLIST // MASTERLIST // WATTPAD // PROLOGUE / CHAPTER 1

August 1st, 2000.

Katherine was in disbelief. Sitting on the toilet seat, she stared at the little stick in her hand.

Two lines, staring right back at her.

How could this be possible? She was on the pill and never missed a day.

How did this happen? Why did this happen? Maybe this was punishment. Maybe this was the universe’s way of telling her that she should have stayed in Boston and not follow Tony all the way back to Malibu. Maybe she should have listened to her mother. Maybe she should have stayed away. Or maybe the stars aligned and this was meant to be. Maybe this was fate.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stood up and walked towards the sink. She placed the pregnancy test on the sink and washed her face. After turning off the facet and drying her face, she met her reflection on the mirror. Her face was red and blotchy. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

Pregnancy tests can be wrong. They’re not always reliable. She probably just had a stomach bug.

“It’s okay,” Katherine whispered to herself. “I’ll just make an appointment with Dr. Garcia, and I’ll find out I’m not pregnant, and things will go back to normal, and everything will be fine.”

She grabbed the pregnancy test and tucked it under her shirt. Even though she peed on a couple of minutes ago, she didn’t want Tony to see it just in case he was in the room. She didn’t want him to find out and wanted to wait until she knew. Walking back into their shared bedroom, she slipped the pregnancy test into her purse and started to get ready.

“Come back in bed Kat,” Tony mumbled, sheets covering his naked body.

“I can’t. I have to get ready for work,” she answered, as she was changing into a white button down. “And you need to get ready too before your late again.”

“I’m the CEO, I decide when to go to work. And since I’m your boss, I order you to come back to bed with me.” Katherine looked over her shoulder and saw Tony with a smug smirk on his face. She rolled her eyes and threw the pants he discarded the night before at him.

“Get up loser.” Tony caught them and started to get out of bed. Katherine tried her best to keep herself from smiling, but the corner of her lips betrayed her. Pulling a pair of black trousers up, she felt Tony’s body coming from behind. His hand caressed her hair and softly kissed the side of her head.

“Kat, you are amazing you know that?” Tony said as he peppered her face with kisses. Katherine now had a huge grin on her face and felt her cheeks warm up. “So amazing.” His hands slide down her waist as he continued to whisper sweet nothings in her ear and for a couple of seconds she forgot what happened in the bathroom not too long ago. Then she felt his hands crept under her shirt, onto her stomach and jumped away.

“What’s wrong?” Tony asked her, slightly surprised by her reaction.

“Um- uh, your hands are cold.” She stammered, turning around to face him. She felt her heart beating rapidly and her face heating up even more.

“Oh okay. I’m sorry for my cold hands.”

“It’s fine, it just freaked me out a little.” Tony reached out for her hands and pulled her closer. He leaned in and gently pressed his lips against hers.

“You’re such a weirdo,” He said, pulling back slightly and resting his forehead against hers.

“Well, your dating this weirdo.” Katherine nervously chuckled.

“Yeah, and I also love you, so I guess that also makes me a weirdo too huh?”

“I guess so.” At this moment she knew no matter what happens Tony will always be there for her. All the anxiety she felt slipped away and right then and there, it was just the two of them. Maybe it’s not so bad she’s pregnant. All she needed was right here.

“We do still need to get ready though,” She said pulling away from him. “And put on a pair of pants.”

After Tony and Katherine fumbled around the room to get ready, they made their way to the car where they found Happy standing by it.

“Good morning Happy,” Katherine said, wrapping her arms around him for a hug.

“Good morning Dr. Pham.” Happy responded with a smile.

“Happy I told you-you didn’t need to call me that.” She said as she pulled back.

“I know, I know. I just like how it sounds. It’s official ya’ know.” He said opening the car door.

“Why don’t you call me Mr. Stark?” Tony asked as they got into the car. Instead of answering, Happy slammed the door closed. “Thanks.”

“Oh Happy, you gotta love him,” Katherine said.

“Who’s side are you on?” Tony responded. Instead of answering, she started to laugh. Happy slid into the driver’s seat and started driving. Along the way, some jokes were thrown around and for a second Happy was about to slam on the breaks and hurl Tony out of the car. After 30 minutes of driving, Happy finally pulled up to Stark Industries. He quickly ran out and opened the passenger side door. Tony and Katherine stepped out of the car and before Katherine walked into the building, Tony twirled her back to him and pressed his lips against hers. She melted into the kiss for a couple of seconds, then pulled back not wanting anyone to see what they were just doing.

“Tony I told you to tone down the PDA.” She said, as her cheeks warmed up from embarrassment.

“What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend before she heads to work.”

“When your girlfriend works for you and doesn’t want her co-workers to think she’s just sleeping with the boss to get promoted, then yes.”

“Everyone already knows we’re together.”

“I know, I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Can I at least get a kiss on the cheek?” He asked, turning his cheek to face her.

“Of course,” Katherine answered. She leaned in to peck his cheek, but Tony quickly moved his face, so her lips landed on his lips. “Tony!” She exclaimed, after being tricked.

“Gotta go. Have a good day at work!” Tony quickly pecked her lips again and started heading into the building, leaving Katherine standing there astonished.

“You guys are so cute,” Happy said, standing beside her. “It’s gross.”

“Oh shut up.” She said, playfully rolling her eyes. Walking inside, Katherine exchanged a couple of good mornings and hellos with her coworkers making her way to her office.

“Good morning Dr. Pham,” her assistant Carolyn said, standing up from her desk that sat outside her office.

“Good morning Ms. Carolyn, how was your weekend?” Carolyn trailed behind her as they made their way into the office.

“I met my boyfriend’s family, and we had dinner at some Italian restaurant. I don’t remember what it was called. How was yours?”

“Tony had another party, so what’s new,” Katherine answered, sitting at her desk. “Do you mind closing the door, I have to ask you something in privacy.”

“Of course.” Carolyn closed the door and sat on the chair in front of the desk.

“Please don’t tell anyone this, but I need you to make an appointment with Dr. Garcia.”

“Wait, isn’t she your gynecologist?” Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“Yes-”

“But you already had your checkup? Why would you need to visit her unless you-” She gasped and covered her mouth. “Are you pregnant?” She whispered.

“Yes-no, I mean. I’m not sure. I took a pregnancy test this more, and it said I am, but you can’t always rely on those you know?” Katherine felt her anxiety build up again. She felt her heartbeat thumping in her ear.

“Does Mr. Stark know?”

“Not yet. I don’t want to tell him until I know for sure.”

“Okay… I’ll make an appointment. Do you need anything else?”

“No that’s all for now. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Carolyn stood up and made her way to the door. Before she left, she paused and looked back. “You and Mr. Stark would be great parents.” A small smile graced her face.

“Thanks,” Katherine said, smiling back. Carolyn nodded her head in response and walked out.

Katherine leaned back and let out a sigh. She had no need to panic or freak out. Despite how terrible of a father Howard, she knew Tony was never going to be like him. She knew he was going to love that child with all his heart and always be there for him. She knew that their child was going to grow up in a home where they are loved and accepted and never feel less than what they're worth. But she was still a little scared. She was going to be a mom, and she didn’t know if she was ready. Only time will tell.

A couple of days went by since that morning. Katherine had her appointment with Dr. Garcia, and Tony still didn’t know. Once in a while, Katherine would forget she might be pregnant and go on throughout her day like nothing happened. But the universe would remind her again and again. Everything baby related started coming out of nowhere, and that was all Katherine would see. Babies in strollers, baby clothes, pregnant mothers all seemed to be everywhere. Even her research at work started to relate to babies in some way, shape or form.

“Dr. Pham?” Katherine heard Carolyn say, as she was working on one of her experiments. She looked up and saw she had a nervous expression etched on her face. “Dr. Garcia is on the phone.” Katherine’s breath hitched, and she nervously gulped.

“Okay, I’ll be over there. Continue on without me.” She said to her lab techs. She felt ringing in her ears as she made her way towards her office and it got louder the closer she got. After closing her office door, she slid into her seat and hesitantly picked up the phone. “Good afternoon, Dr. Pham speaking.” Her voice was shaky, and her heart started to thump harder.

“Good afternoon Dr. Pham, it’s Dr. Garcia. I have some exciting news. You’re pregnant!” Katherine’s eyes widen, and everything fell silent. As Dr. Garcia continued to talk, the only thing she could hear the was her heart beating against her chest. She was pregnant. A little baby was growing inside of her. She was going to be a mom. Tony was going to be a dad. Everything was going to change. “Dr. Pham? Dr. Pham are you still there?”

“Y-Yes. Sorry, I was just trying to process that I’m pregnant.” She chuckled nervously.

“It’s okay, take as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “How many weeks am I?”

“You’re three weeks pregnant. The embryo is the size of a pinhead. Do you have any more questions?”

“Um, I think that’s all for now. Thank you.”

“No problem Dr. Pham. Make sure you call in and book your prenatal appointments. Have a good rest of the day.”

“You too.” Katherine put down the phone and leaned her head against her hands. How was she going to tell Tony? After a couple of minutes processing what she just heard, she calmly collected herself and walked out of her office.

“Dr. Pham what did she-” Carolyn paused when she saw the look on Katherine’s face. She didn’t need to hear anything to know the answer to the question she was about to ask. She just nodded and continued to do her work, knowing that was what Katherine wanted her to do.

As Katherine walked back to the lab, she felt the world around her slowing down. All the noise around her blended together, and she felt alone. She walked back a glass wall and saw Tony at a board meeting. He looked over at her and winked as he was listening to one of the board members talking. She nervously smiled back as she continued to walk down the hall. Maybe this wasn’t bad. Maybe this was fate.

Once she made it to the lab door, she scanned her company badge, and the doors opened.

“Anything wrong?” One of her lab techs asked when she walked over to the computers.

“No, everything’s fine.” She answered with a smile. Everything was fine.

The rest of the day flew by and the following morning crept in. Katherine decided not to tell Tony right away and wait for their three-year anniversary dinner that night. After work, they were planning to have dinner at this restaurant in Beverly Hills which is where they had their first date. It was going to be perfect.

Katherine’s eyes fluttered open and found herself lying across Tony’s chest. Gently resting her hands on his chest, she looked up and admired him as he slept. He was still asleep with his mouth ajar and snored softly. His skin slightly glowed underneath the sunlight, and his forehead had little crease marks.

“I know you're staring,” Tony mumbled, his eyes still closed.

“I’m enjoying the view.” She quipped back. He opened one eye and saw Katherine with a big grin on her face. “Happy anniversary.” She sung, leaning in a placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Mhm, yes.” He mumbled in response. He placed his hand on the back of her head and pulled her down for another kiss. Tony’s hands moved to the side of Katherine’s head, gripping onto her hair as their lips molded with one another. He then swiftly flipped her onto her back, hovering over her as she giggled at the movement. Her hands moved from the side of his torso to his back, gently holding onto him. Tony pulled back ever so slightly, the only sound in the room being their heavy breaths. “I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you too.” She whispered back.

“No, I’m in love with you. You feel this?” He asked, grabbing her hand and placing it on his chest. Katherine felt Tony’s heartbeat and his chest heaving in and out. “That’s for you. You have my heart, Kat.” She felt her eyes water as she stared into his eyes. She moved his hand onto her chest.

“And you have mine.” Tony leans in again, and their lips met. A symphony of emotions poured out, and all they felt was each other.

At work, Katherine was giddy all day. She was glowing and felt invincible, and nothing can ruin her mood. It was the best day of her life.

Right when she walked into her office, she stopped.

“Hello, Dr. Pham.” Obadiah Stane said, leaning against her desk. Katherine felt her smile falter and fear seeped into her eyes. “I should be congratulating you on your anniversary with Tony, but it seems like there something bigger we should be celebrating. Why don’t you close the door and sit over.” He pointed to the chair in front of him.

Katherine closed the door behind her and slowly walked towards him,.

Maybe this was fate, maybe this was fate, maybe this was…

tag list: @wazzupmrstark @considerablylethal @starksparker @hollandroos @hey-its-grey @madmadmilk @screamholland @spiderboytotherescue @sunriseparker @h-osterfield

[sw-fixit-of-the-week]

by Jen425

Shadow Warriors AU. Padme is given a choice, follow her heart or protect the Republic...

And she chooses the Republic.

And in doing so, she saves it.

…After all, shattered minds may reveal more than you even knew was there.

(Note: This story is actually a collection of shorter stories that all occur in the same universe and tie into each other. For the purposes of this post, I incorporated all of the tags, categories, and warnings in the collection, and marked it at the highest rating. However, the stories range from fairly light g-rated pieces to incredibly dark and violent works. I encourage anyone interested to browse all the stories in the collection and review their tags and ratings.)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Categories: F/M, Other, M/M, F/F

Characters: Dooku | Darth Tyranus, Padmé Amidala, Darth Maul, Savage Opress, Ahsoka Tano, Asajj Ventress, CT-21-0408 | Echo, CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, Bail Organa, Jedi Council, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda (Star Wars), Mace Windu, Plo Koon, Shaak Ti, Luke Skywalker, Mentioned Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, mentioned Rey (Star Wars), Mon Mothma, CT-7567 | Rex, R2-D2 (Star Wars), Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Cut Lawquane, The 501st, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Leia Organa, Han Solo, Father (The Clone Wars), Jar Jar Binks

Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano & Asajj Ventress, Ahsoka Tano/Asajj Ventress, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker & Bail Organa, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555 & Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker & Mace Windu, Padmé Amidala & Bail Organa, Cut Lawquane & CT-7567 | Rex, CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555 & CT-7567 | Rex, Padmé Amidala & Mon Mothma & Bail Organa, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Mace Windu, R2-D2 & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala & CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker & The Council, CT-21-0408 | Echo & Anakin Skywalker, CT-21-0408 | Echo/CT-27-5555 | Fives | ARC-5555, 501st Legion & Anakin Skywalker, Dooku & Anakin Skywalker, Darth Maul & Savage Opress, Dooku & Yoda

Additional Tags: Shadow Warriors AU, Episode: S4e4 Shadow Warriors, Angst, Padme chooses the Republic, Dooku has a horrible plan, War, prisoners of war, I struggle with Padme's POV, I'm Sorry, Introspection, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Obi-Wan, Padme made her choice even if it will haunt her forever, Dysfunctional Family, ...pretty much defines Star Wars in two words, Anakin and Padme are as subtle as a brick to the face, And they know it, Lightsabers, Jedi Culture, A not-so-happy reminder that Dooku used to be a Jedi, Pre-Femslash, Spin-Off, Pre-Relationship, Torture, Psychological Torture, Mind Rape, The only rape is mind rape, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin Skywalker: Infinite Pain, Force Visions, kind of, Mortis (Star Wars), Anakin is not in a good place right now, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Anakin is betrayed up until he find out what HE would do to HER, Poor Anakin, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, all those character tags except the first two are for Mortis, (duh), The Author Regrets Everything, Aftermath of Torture, Hurt/Comfort, This is probably a fix-it, but right now it's just making Anakin's life worse, Anakin has a crappy life, Why do I do this to him?, Eventual Fix-It, Why Did I Write This?, Anakin Skywalker knows he has issues, Anakin Skywalker is not in a good place right now, Anakin uses his brain, ...Kinda, Anakin is still in a really terible place right now, and lying to everyone about the extent of it, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kinda, Anakin still needs that hug, and he's still failing at Jedi-ing, Mentions of murder torture genocide and all the other things Vader did, and some very subtle obitine, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Again, Multiple Times, Tags Are Hard, Hugs don't count if you're the one giving them, Yelling at the Council is fun, Jedi Code, Child Soldiers, General Ahsoka, The Jedi are stupid, Anakin calls the Council on their shit, Anakin is lying to himself again, Ahsoka deserves none of this, neither does Anakin, Suicidal Thoughts, ...but they're very brief, breif mention of, Clone Rights, Umbara, Zygeria, Terrorists, I really hate the Council, Ecxept Obi-Wan, And Yoda, ...sometimes, The start of the Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Anakin is starting to consider actually SURVIVING his fight with Sidious, It's slow going, Anakin works best when he knows how to protect his family, Anakin Skywalker Has Issues, he's trying, He's also trying to protect Ahsoka from his issues, He's failing, Ahsoka is Anakin's daughter, Anakin is a good dad, the Big Reveal (not), Sheev is a creep, and Anakin is questioning everything again, but that’s not entirely bad, how much was Palpatine’s fault?, Anakin doesn’t know, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hardeen arc, fighting with Dooku and Magna gaurds is the last thing Anakin needs, Force exhaustion, Obi-Wan is trying, but he tried hard in Canon too, Past Mind Rape, Anakin isn't doing well here people, Setup, a lot of setup, Anakin still being in that horrible place right now, Delegation of 2000, Clone Rebellion, Mace Windu hates Anakin, and Anakin knows this, Artoo is awesome, Force-Sensitive Clones, and droids, Artoo and Fives are Force sensitive. fight me, Clones are way more aware than the Jedi, and the 501st would like to join me in hating the Council, Except Plo Obi-Wan Shaak ti and sometimes Yoda, Alternate Universe - Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Fix-It, Suicide Attempt, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, The 501st love their General, ...s, I still hate the Jedi, Order 66, ...Kinda, Force-Sensetive Fives, Final Battle, these tags are a mess, time-travel, (kinda), Anakin's extra-weird Force Visions, Scenes that I wanted from TLJ, Alternate Timelines, Brief suicidal thoughts, Forgiveness, It's harder to forgive yourself, Force Ghosts, Slight breaking of the fourth wall, This was supposed to be crack, it's NOT crack, Post Fix-It, Past Suicide Attempt, After Many Hours of Meditation, Mace Windu Has Discovered that the Jedi had been cruel to Anakin, and continuing down that path would lead to someone's death, how is Ahsoka so well-adjusted, Ahsoka Tano-centric, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Anakin is tryiNG, Anakin Skywalker ALSO Needs a Hug, Anakin calling bullshit, Windu not being terrible, Anakin is very literal, This is why I like writing out of order, jedi politics, the jedi treated Anakin like shit okay?, What is this?, The Never-Ending Council Meeting, (Don’t worry this isn’t its only appearance), Anakin finally GETS that hug, Cuddling & Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Healing, Healing takes time, Complicated Relationships, Conversation with a capital C, Jedi Apprentice references, Anakin is STILL not in a very good place right now, Padme is trying, Anakin is just a mess, Ahsoka is wonderful, honestly this normalcy is so wonderful for Anakin right now, and then he gets work shoved into his lap, Anakin is a shipper, Sith Shenanigans, Anakin Does. Not. NEED THIS!!!!!, Dooku is an ass, Anakin is an Idiot, but he's not exactly thinking straight here so..., Anakin is a mess, Kind of..., Crack Treated Seriously, council meetings, shady politics, Nightmares, Recovery, Mind Rape Aftermath, I accidentally made the same thing happen twice, when clones act like Jedi something is Wrong, happy endings, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, except Grievous and Palps, but who actually cares about either of them?

[mrgrant9559-blog]

Safe Keeping: Prologue

A/N: Ayo, whats gucci? Yup, I’m back with a brand new fic! This one is Tony paired, which is a character I honestly thought I’d never write for, and yet here we are! Funny how things work, huh. I should include that Reader can fly and shoot basically energy blasts from his hands. So, pretty much Captain Marvel but not really Captain Marvel, ya know. Anyways, I’m hoping to be better with this fic than I am with Witch Way Is Right, as far as continuity goes. Btw, WWIR is still continuing!! It’s just I’ve been told by mutiple fic writers that in order to get rid of writer’s block, I should write something else. Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

Subject: Tony Stark x Male!Reader

Prompt: @trampledcactusboy - I am humbly requesting a something parter Tony one shot when you have the time too :) (like 2,3,4 however many parts you choose) I hope it can be in civil war time period so Tony's in that kind of mindset/feel and maybe reader can be a shield agent or hero who helped cap & friends escape but really agrees with Tony so he gets protective over him? if not you do you cuz you can never go wrong <3

Tags: @avengersohyeah @uselessace @writeyouin @trampledcactusboy @thegreatficmaster

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You’d been with the Avengers for as long as you could remember. You’ve shared laughs, drinks, food, and a couple of moments along the way. So, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you realized what had become of you guys at this point. If someone would’ve told you 3 years ago that your team, THE Avengers, would split into two disagreeing sections over a stupid Sokovian accord, you would’ve taken a shit on their shoes and laughed in their face.

But now, it was almost like you were living a nightmare. No scratch that, you WERE living a nightmare. The same extraordinary people who you could call your brothers and sisters, were literally at each other’s throats.

You see Steve fighting a man dressed in red and blue spandex. And it looks like Steve is losing? You fly at Steve and swoop him up to the roof of the airport building and drop him off, landing in front of him to give the star spangled jolly rancher an ear full.

“What the hell are guys doing?!” You ask angrily.

“It’s long story, Y/N. And I really don’t have time for this.” He replies.

“We’re supposed to be a team, Steve. Almost like family.” I add. “So, imagine how I feel when I’m informed by SHIELD agents that not only are you and half of this so called family commiting treason, but you’re also protecting the man who killed King T’Chaka in cold blood!”

“I know it sounds crazy, but you’ve gotta believe me, kid. Buck is innocent. He’s being framed.”

“He tried to kill you and Fury just a year ago! If he’s willing to kill his best friend, brother in arms, then how am I supposed to believe that he wouldn’t to do the same to the now former king of Wakanda” I interject.

“That wasn’t him! You know as well as I do that he was under HYDRA’s control for years! He’s been trying to escape his past ever since and he’s been doing a great job so far!”

“Listen, I know Bucky is an innocent man, but what if the Winter Soldier comes out again. He’s a threat to others and himself!” I argue.

Steve sighs, realizing that what you’re saying is sorta true. “What if I can prove to you that Bucky didn’t kill anyone including the Wakanda’s king and that he’s innocent?”

“I don’t know Bucky well, but I do know he’s NOT innocent.” I say causing him to look down at his feet in disappointment. “However, if you have proof that he didn’t kill the king, then I’ll be willing to give him a second chance.” Steve looks up at me with a smile and nods in agreement. “Ok then, what do you need me to do?”

“Can you help us get to the quinjet? Take care of whoever gets in our way without causing permanent damage?” He asks.

“I can try.” You say before flying into the battle zone, making sure Steve and Bucky had a clear opening to the quinjet. You had to admit, these new people that Tony found were tough as nails. Definitely wasn’t their first time in a fight, but luckily, you were no rookie youself.

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“Rhodes!!” You hear Tony yell in his suit while flying over to Rhodey’s aid. Rhodey was shot down by Vision, who was aiming for Sam. You tried to fly as fast as you could to catch him, following Tony and Sam in suit, but he had already hit the ground.

The sound. The sound his body had made when it made impact was haunting to say the least. Tony landed down next to Rhodey’s side and took off his helmet to examine the damage. He was unconscious with a bloody nose, which usually means that the person is either dead or damn near. Tony tells FRIDAY to read his vital organs. Thankfully, she replies by saying that there’s a heartbeat and that EMT are on their way.

Finally, Sam swoops in. “I’m sorry”, is all he could really say at the moment, even though he wasn’t entirely at fault. Tony didn’t care though as he raised his hand at Sam and blasted him, knocking him unconscious as well.

“Tony, you didn’t have to do that! It wasn’t his fault!” You say.

He moves his arm in you direction, his repulsors ready to fire. “Shut the hell up, Y/L/N! You’re just as in the wrong as him! I saw you helping Steve and Bucky back there. You’re supposed to be on MY side. You’re supposed to be MY friend!” He yells at you in anger, feeling betrayed and mostly hurt.

Your eyelids start to build up tears, as you find pain in what you’re about to say next. “Last I checked, we’re ALL supposed to be friends.” The look on Tony’s face tells you he was taken back by your words. “Look around you, Tones. Look at what’s become of us. We’re supposed to fight the enemy, not each other, and you know Bucky had nothing to do with the death of King T’Chaka.” Tony starts to lower his arm, which has now powered down.

Realization washes over him as he sees medics take Rhodey away on a stretcher in critical condition and the rest of Cap’s team get detained. The Wakandan Prince disappeared probably gone off to find Steve and Bucky. Tony knows Bucky couldn’t of been the one doing all these terrible things, at least not on purpose.

You and Tony finally arrive at a high max security prison in the middle of the ocean, where they were keeping the rest of Cap’s team for God knows how long. Tony walks over to each cell to talk to them about what they’ve done and how foolish they were being. Clint mostly, who retorted with his own words going back and forth with him. Tony then sees a new guy and wonders who he even is which punt a dent in the poor guy’s ego. He then walks over to Sam and asks if he’s been fed at all.

Sam just replies with snark, “Oh, so you’re good cop now?”

Regardless of what happened, Tony still cares for everyone and wants to make sure they’re at least being treated right. “I’m just the guy who need to know where Steve went.” He replies.

Sam tell hims that the only way he’s gonna get info outta him is if he goes full benny hanna on his ass. Tony starts messing with his watch, shutting off all coms in the prison system.

Tony tells Sam this, and he reveals to him everything he knows about where they could’ve gone. Tony rushes out of the cell block, with you following in suit. “Did you find out where they went?” You ask, following him to his private helicopter.

“Yup.”

“Great, I’m coming with you...”

“No, you’re not.” Tony retorts, spinning on his heel to face you.

“But I-“

“No, you don’t.” He interjects before you can finish your sentence. “What I need you to do is to stay here with the general and make sure he doesn’t send any of his people to follow me. I already told him I’m going back to the compound, but he might still suspect something.”

“Just, make sure you come back as friends. Last thing I wanna see is The Avengers break up over some dumbass accords.”

“I promise, we’ll all being sitting in front of a campfire singing Kum Ba Yah, and eating s’mores.” And with that, he enters the helicopter, on his way to help Cap and Buck find Zemo, so we could all be a team again.

Or at least thats how I hoped this day would end.

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I’m so sorry for taking so long people! I’m a busy guy, but I knew I needed to out something out for you guys so here it is. This was pretty much my way of adding Reader into the movie without changing much. Also, I’m thinking of upload my fics to Wattspad. Should I do that?? I don’t know, but I hope you guys like this new fic!