#they cannot. and then fire and e ms has to come get them

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s stepkid

Tony Stark x Potts!child!reader

warnings: alcohol mention

a/n: i rushed these so bad i just wanted to post dhhshsnsna

prompt: y/n is pepper’s kiddo!

it was just you and your mom for a long time

pepper and y/n potts

she couldn’t keep up with you sometimes, too busy dealing with the manchild that was mister anthony edward stark

speaking of—

“uh, who’s this?” -tony, pointing at you

“mr. stark, i am so sorry, the school closed because some kid set fire to the science lab and i didn’t have time to find a sitter—”

“no, it’s fine, no need to apologize. hey, kid, you wanna sit in the boss’s chair? i’ll let you run the company for the day!” *cue you nodding* “sweet, would you mind that, ms. potts?”

“oh? no, not at all” *mouthing* “thank you”

“so, uh, what’s your name? no, don’t tell me: ketchup.”

*giggling* “y/n”

“no way! that was my second guess!”

tony wasn’t used to being around kids

he had no idea that he was actually kind of good around them

despite a few minor hiccups

“you sit in my chair and im gonna spin you around, sound like fun?”

he spun you around WAY too fast and you were diiiiizzy, also you fell off the chair

“don’t tell your mom that we did that. she may be my assistant, but she scares the shit out of me. also, don’t say ‘shit’”

dude he just thought you were a cool kid!!!

“hey, you know, ms. potts, you dont really need to hire a babysitter anymore. y/n’s doing just fine hanging out here”

“how am i not surprised you befriended an actual child?”

she still took him up on his offer, you seemed pretty happy

when your mom worked late, you passed out in tonys office

tony and you had your own little secrets (like falling off the spinning chair), tony showed you around stark tower, and you practically lived there

“i got you a happy meal from mcdonalds!” -tony every day after your school

in all honesty, you weren’t the “popular” kid at school...not even close

but tony made up for it

“y/n! i found this old racecar toy in a box of old stuff, you wanna hold onto it for me?”

you kind of grew up in stark tower tbh? it was pretty cool

and as you grew up, you started to notice more

“mr. tony, do you have a crush on my mom?”

“do i what? no, no, i do—who the hell am i kidding? you caught me”

“called it!”

after that you did everything to try and get them together

when your mom was talking to tony, you would stand behind her and wiggle your eyebrows and just taunt tony endlessly

no! tony cannot remember your mom’s birthday for the life of him! you are his calendar now

“dude, why dont you just ask JARVIS to remind you?”

“i may be a genius, but that doesn’t mean i have common sense”

“wise words, sir” -JARVIS

when tony disappeared for 3 months you were so sad???? like you were not okay at all

no

and when he came back, he literally exited the plane saying “WHERE’S ‘T-POTT??’”

(your wonderful nickname. ‘t’ for ‘tony jr.’ and ‘pott’ for ‘potts’)

“my mom missed you”

“oh, i bet she did”

“you turned my child into you, tony. i will never forgive you for this”

“well, at least y/n was here to fill in for me, huh?”

tony wanted to show you the arc reactor but he was actually afraid of scarring you lmfaoooo

but he did let you in on the iron man secret (he knew you wouldn’t snitch)

and just to make sure:

“if you dont tell anyone, i’ll buy you a car when you turn 16”

“man, that’s like, forever away”

“good, maybe you’ll forget by then”

ur mom kinda maybe sorta found out abt iron man :/ she told you that tony was a bad influence

“mom! no, tony’s cool! he’s like a superhero”

“no, sweetie, he’s a rich guy with issues. we’re leaving”

that didn’t last long

not long at all

and soon they FINALLY got together

“jeez, i thought you two would never stop pining after each other”

“couldnt have done it without my wingman” -tony *fistbump*

“as thanks can i have my own iron man suit?”

“yes.” *pepper glaring at him* “no.”

sooner or later your mom and you moved into tony’s house and you got a really big room!!!!

it was completely decked out

king sized bed, flatscreen tv, mini-fridge, microwave, computer, your own bathroom with a smaller tv, a poster of tony??? (you vandalized it and put it in his workshop), and more!!!

okay you were spoiled

“do you like it here? are you sure i made the right choice?” -pepper

“are you kidding, mom? this is awesome! plus, you’re happy, i’m happy, tony’s happy, i think JARVIS is even happy!”

“i am, mx. potts. simply ecstatic” -JARVIS

pepper was really happy!! it was a pretty cool family

you started giving your school tony’s number if you ever got in trouble, you knew he’d cover for you

“mr. potts, is it?”

“sure”

“your child, y/n, punched another student in the face today. we’re very disappointed in their behavior”

“why’d they punch the kid?”

“well, the other student punched y/n first”

“HAH! thank you for wasting my time. send y/n back to class and call me back if something important comes up”

he literally gave you a high five when you got home

“i gave him a black eye!”

“i couldn’t be more proud. i mean, i dont condone violence, but self defense is a whole other story”

a little help in the workshop, tony asks you to hold the flashlight

“why don’t you get one of your robots to hold this for you?”

“are you kidding me, you’re complaining? we’re having stepdad/stepkid bonding time! and dum-e can’t do anything right, i dont trust him”

youve had a few theme park trips as a family ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also tony has 100% told you to wait in the car and then left you alone for 2+ hours

“i’m not like a regular dad, im a step-dad. want some beer? you can have a little sip. i’d rather you do it in the house”

your mother actually does love how he actually cares about you!

“y/n is 12% my responsibility” -tony

“tony, you are impossible” -pepper

no avengering for you! pepper said no!!!!!!

disappointed but not surprised

iron man 3: y/n potts is put through the wringer

Text Message to Mr. Tony: bro you better come get your girl, me and happy are watching this other guy flirting with her. he’s showing her pics of his ‘big brain’

Mr. Tony: HE WHAT

Text Message to Mr. Tony: Tony he looks creepy i don’t want him to be my new stepdad do something!!!

anyways ur house kinda blew up and ur mom and you kinda got kidnapped and u were right abt that guy being creepy and thankfully no experiments were done on you but like your mom kinda almost died and her and tony were fine!!! all good in the end

you met mr. col. james rhodes that day

“aw, you’re the kid ive heard so much about” -rhodey

“you mean the coolest kid in the world?check.”

“you cant tell me you aren’t tony’s biological child, good god”

you got to meet the avengers later on too! (you’d already met natasha tho, only briefly)

“i know it can be a little overwhelming, right? meeting all these heros, legends even—” -rhodey

“oh, my god, is that thor? thor!!” -you, leaving rhodey in the dust

literally why does pepper trust you around tony something always goes wrong there were literally robots attacking, you were only at avengers tower bc your mom was busy with the company and she thought you’d be safe with the avengers. the AVENGERS.

“please dont tell your mom that i created a bad robot that tried to kill us. the robot will be the least of our problems” -tony

he made happy pick you up and you had to miss out on FUN and it sucked a lot

“it’s okay, y/n! i’m fun, too!” -happy

then your mom and tony took a break and your life got mega-boring for a while, but they weren’t separated for that long. you try not to think about it. it was brutal

Mr. Tony: Does she miss me?

New Message to Mr. Tony: I think so. Either that or she’s crying and drinking wine in the dark for no reason.

Mr. Tony: Damn it, now I feel bad. I miss her a lot. Oh, also, the Avengers say ‘hi,’ I’m in Germany with some bad news, I’ll explain later if you don’t see it on TV first, and I found you the perfect friend! His name is Peter and I think you’d like the school he goes to, it’s in Midtown. Smart kid school.

New Message to Mr. Tony: I’ll look into it, thanks. Also, I don’t like how those all connect. Please update me asap

watching the news to see several avengers arrested, cap on the run, and more!

“maybe it was good i didn’t fall in with the avengers”

tony and pepper finally got back together and you actually transferred to midtown high! peter and his friend group accepted you quickly, it was great. you and flash unfortunately had the most in common

you’d literally text happy right next to peter and he’d immediately reply to you. it hurt peter’s feelings

Momma: Sweetie! I’m working in the office late, leftovers are in the fridge, hope you have a wonderful day at school! 💕

👉👈the vulture tried to kill you for being tony’s stepkid, tony made peter promise to protect you

“y/n, you gotta stay out of harm’s way. mr. stark gave me an actual mission and it’s terrifying, i have to make sure you stay safe”

legit why the fuck was this old man tryna kill you bro grow up

anyyyywayssss your mom and tony got engaged!!

“wow, i thought the day would never come!!” -you

ppl told you tony isnt your stepdad bc ur mom and him werent married but who tf asked

why is the earth always in fucking danger

you and peter were just vibing on the field trip bus and all the sudden: space donut

“go! i’ll cover for you...FRIDAY, call tony”

“...hi there, little one”

“what the fuck”

“oh, so you see the aliens, too? well, at least im not crazy”

tony stark has left the atmosphere

you and your mom were kinda......not chillin tho

she and you didn’t sleep for a few nights, then ppl just straight up disappeared

plot twist: you survived the snap and your family was lucky to be alive, you even got a little sister who became a big handful!

only bad thing was all your friends dusted and you were pretty lonely

but watching morgan grow up kept you busy

“ahhh, shes so big!”

happy times in bad times

bad times!!!!! bc after five years thanos came back as thanos from like ten years ago. outdated thanos. obsolete thanos.

but you made your first and only appearance in the suit tony actually designed for you many years ago

you should have just stayed home tho bc that fight didnt pass the vibe check

“please dont tell me he...no, no, no, no, no”

you and your mom latched onto each other in tears, tony was one of the best people in your life, he made you and your mom two of the happiest people on earth

best stepdad a kid could ever ask for

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiantfavs // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @ofthedewthesunlight //

[crackimagines]

FE: Three Houses - Mobile Suit Gundam AU (Black Eagles)

Byleth, Claude, Dimitri, Edelgard Here!

If Three Houses was a Gundam show, what would everyone pilot?

Let’s continue that question with the Black Eagles!

---------

A customized Geara Zulu (Guards Type) developed for Hubert in recognition for his services to Edelgard. In order to show that he is the XO of Adrestia’s Royal Guard, it is painted in violet colors and features more elaborate patterns on its chest as well as a blade antenna on its head.

Specs:

Beam Machine Gun

Beam Tomahawk

Shield

Lange Bruno Gun Plus - specialized for space-use, and functions as a long-range beam launcher. It has an extremely high focusing rate, and fires a highly penetrative beam at a very fast speed.

Although she is of Adrestian noble descent, Bernadetta explicitly refuses to use any suit that would garner attention, and instead chose to pilot a smaller suit, which arguably isn’t even a mobile suit.

Ironically, having chosen what other pilots from the Holy Kingdom refer to as the “Mobile Coffin“, and the fact that everyone pilots bipedal suits has drawn enormous amounts of attention. The fact she had piloted it so many times without dying yet only adds more to her reputation.

Bernadetta is also known to only stay in the cockpit and made a personal room out of it, somehow big enough for only two people. How she keeps everything like her bed and knitting supplies organized in combat is up for debate.

She has nicknamed it “The Bernie Ball”.

Specs: 

180mm Low-Recoil Cannon

When Caspar became known for hit and run tactics during training and showed he had exceptional skill in it, the engineers following his late Grandfather had a suit developed for Caspar, though it was slightly inferior since a more advanced suit was given to Randolph.

The suit's role as a fast assault unit that was meant to strike quickly, cause massive damage with its varied weapons loadout, and make a fast escape. The Kämpfer was a very focused design, never intended to work outside of its role.

Caspar appreciates the suit’s simplicity, and favors the way it fights greatly compared to the other fighting styles.

The "E" in the MS-18E Kämpfer's model number was an abbreviation for an ancient word "einhauen," which translates to "one strike.”

Specs: 

60mm Vulcan Gun - An uncommon feature on an Adrestian MS, the Kämpfer has two Vulcan Guns in the head similar to Holy Kingdom’s Mobile Suits.

Beam Saber

Sturm Faust -  A simplified, disposable rocket launcher.

ZUX-197 Jagdgewehr 192mm Shotgun 

Chain Mine -  a number of disc-shaped mines connected to each other by flexible cable. Each mine had magnetic claws on its underside, allowing it to be attached to objects. It could be thrown out like grenades one by one, laid on the ground or fixed to a building as a mine, or (most destructively) attached to a single enemy and detonated. Caspar prefers the last tactic. 

Being a commoner and from an Opera company, she was granted the most basic suit in the Adrestian Empire, the Zaku II.

Basic, but by no means a terrible suit. She doesn’t particularly care about the combat effectiveness of the suit since she doesn’t like to fight and kill, though she dislikes how non-flashy it is. She personalized the cockpit to her liking, including a radio and several photos of her classmates of whom she adores. (And cute boys/girls but they don’t need to know that)

Specs:

ZMP-50D 120mm Machine Gun

H&L-SB25K/280mmA-P Zaku Bazooka

Hand Grenade

The suit is a MS-05B Zaku I reequipped for sniping purposes. Compared to the newer suits developed by the Adrestian Empire, it is dated and completely inferior to it’s most basic cousin, the Zaku II. 

However, Linhardt was able to improve the head using his noble status. Over the normal type, this mobile suit has an improved mono-eye sensor and redesigned head for better visibility and durability, perfect for sniping at long range.

While he uses the suit to disarm enemy mobile suits since he hates killing, a major reason why he did not upgrade his suit from a Zaku I was because he was too lazy to put in an order to. He prefers his quiet time while sniping researching crests and crest users, among other things.

Specs:

Beam Sniper Rifle 

Leg Knee Pad - The suit’s right leg knee pad is unique in that when the mobile suit kneels down into firing position, the knee pad extends outward so as to stabilize the mobile suit not unlike a monopod on a rifle.

Brigid is an island on the planet Fodlan and is very tropical. With that being the case, the people of Brigid developed their Mobile Suits for water combat, not having to deal with space combat since their cities are mostly underwater.

After a war had its king killed, Petra was sent to the Garreg Mach colony in space as an exchange student as thanks for the Adrestian Empire assisting them in the war.

The Empire reoutfitted the Ace Suit of the Brigid army, the Hygogg, to be usable in space, as well as planetside combat.

Despite seeming awkward to fight in space, Petra manages to make it dance on the battlefield, surprising every enemy with her abilities, their surprise being the last thing they feel.

Specs: 

Beam Cannon - The beam cannons in the Hygogg's multi-segmented arms use energy capacitor (E-CAP) technology, giving it greater firepower and a much wider firing arc.

Torpedo Launcher - Four torpedo launchers are mounted in the head. The torpedoes fired can also function as anti-surface or anti-air missiles.

120mm Machine Cannon

Vice Claw -  Mounted on the forearms, they are iron nails and can be used as simplified manipulators or as close combat weapons. The arms' joints improves the vice claws' combat capabilities.

The Gelgoog Marine is a late variant of Zeon's final mass-produced mobile suit, the MS-14A Gelgoog. As its name implies, it was developed exclusively for Zeon's marine corps, who carried out a variety of special missions, and were only given to soldiers of high status and renown.

Ferdinand being the son of the Ambassador for the Adrestian Empire, he was gifted the suit at his request, being the spitting image of a noble in the frontlines for his people.

Despite the fact he was able to get a prestigious suit due to nepotism, his skills cannot be questioned when it comes to his performance, and is indeed worthy of the Marine suit.

However, pilots tend to dislike Ferdinand for always saying he is better than Edelgard, which compared to her Sazabi, he was an insect to her.

Specs:

110mm Machine Cannon - One of the features of the Gelgoog Marine are a pair of 110mm machine cannons mounted in the forearms, one cannon per arm.

Beam Saber

MMP-78 Machine Gun

Beam Rifle

Knuckle Shield - The knuckle shield is a modified Zaku II shoulder shield carried on the arm, with the curve of the armor fitting over the mobile suit's hand. One of the modifications is the additions of three spikes placed on the plate that rests in front of the hand. These spikes make the knuckle shield an effective bashing weapon.

[wolfpawn]

Once Bitten, Twice Shy Chapter 18

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary -  Tom prepares for New York and decides it's time to tell Paige his feelings once and for all, but as they say, all things come in threes.

Tag, @wolfsmom1 @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @damalseer @nonsensicalobsessions  @standing-onthe-edge @hiddlesbitch1

anyone else who wishes to be added to the tags, just ask :)

an  - only two more chapters left now. 

Tom was preparing everything for Bobby to go to quarantine when there was a knock on his door. He knew immediately it was Paige, she had specifically asked to say goodbye to him before his forced imprisonment before his trip to the US. Tom opened the door and smiled. “Hello.” “Hi.” The wedding night had been twice as awkward as the night before for the pair. Neither fell asleep until almost sun-up and when they did wake, to the sound of Paige’s mother knocking on their door to tell them breakfast would cease being served in twenty minutes, the pair were startled to see that in their sleep, Paige had someone managed to curl herself into Tom’s body, her head on his chest and Tom having his arm very much around her keeping her there. With a litany of apologies from both of them, they pulled themselves apart and readied for breakfast, both silent and feeling incredibly awkward from it.

It was three days before when such had occurred and in that time, both tried to act as though it never happened. Texting the other as though everything was the same when in truth, both could not stop thinking about it.

While they stood staring at one another, Bobby rushed to see who was after entering his domain and on seeing Paige, he ran forward and sat at her feet as he was trained to do and waited for her attention excitedly.

Thankful to have the means to cease the awkwardness between them for even a moment, Paige knelt down and rubbed his ear. “Hey big guy, you excited for your trip?” Bobby groaned in contentment at getting his ear rubbed as he adored. “I hope you have a great time.” She looked up at Tom. “Both of you.” “We will,” Tom assured her. “It will be odd not getting to bring him for walks with you.” Paige gave him a small smile. “Do a walk of Central Park to the Balto statue in my name then.” Tom frowned slightly. “In Central Park, that was always my favourite place to go. I loved that movie as a kid.” “We’ll have to find it then.” Tom made note of it. “Listen, Paige, I wanted to talk to you about something?” “Sure?” “It’s about the whole thing with us, with all of this.” Paige swallowed.

“I wanted to ask if it was just something you felt you needed to do because of Oscar suggesting it or something else?” “How do you mean?” “Well…”

They say all things come in three, and such remained true as for the third time when they came close to discussing the matter, they were interrupted by someone as there was a knock on Tom’s door which caused Bobby to bark.

Tom groaned at the moment being lost again but went to check who it was. When he opened the door, he was startled to see a woman standing there. “Georgina, hello?” “Tom, glad I caught you, I need to discuss a few matters with you.” The woman began to push her way into the house.

“I am actually sort of dealing with something now, Georgina, so if you could please come at a time that we have prearranged, as I discussed with you the last time you turned up unannounced?” “I am here now,” The woman declared, before noticing Paige, who stood awkwardly next to Bobby, who eyed the woman with a wary manner. “With so little time before you depart, it is best to prioritise your time to matters regarding your career, not last month’s topic of discussion. With New York, this charade is thankfully no longer needed and we can get back to the matter at hand. Now, you are being booked for the Stephen Colbert show and Ralph Lauren have already been informed of four different events to suit you for.” The woman seemed startled to see Paige still there. “Darling, if you are not going to get us some coffee, then I suggest you go home and do some of that writing of yours, this is business we are attending to.”

“Georgina…” Tom’s tone was one of caution. “Paige and I are discussing matters and no one has the right to speak to her like that.” “There is little to discuss, Luke has already written up the statement with her...manager to issue. It will be done circa two weeks in. Sadness to part ways, mutual respect and still good friends and wanting nothing but the best for one another and all that. It is signed sealed and delivered.” The woman declared boredly. “Now, as I was saying…” “I better leave you to it.” Paige walked to the chair she had placed her coat on and got it.

“Paige…” Tom tried to stop her. “I need to talk to you.” “You’re busy.” “But...us?” “You’ve just been told, the statement is apparently readied. I guess that is it then. This is it.” She looked at him sadly. “Thank you, for your company, Tom. For everything. You are the most amazing man and I cannot tell you how great it has been to be in your company. You are an utter gentleman.” She leant up and went to kiss his cheek, but at the last moment, Tom moved his head and their lips met. When she pulled back, she looked into his blue eyes, mesmerised, as she had been many times before by their brightness, the sheer number of blues they contained. “Sorry.” “No...Paige...please.”

“I better go.” She moved around him and walked towards the front door quickly, not even stopping to say goodbye to e to Bobby as she walked out.

Tom, feeling as though he had just been slapped, looked after her.

"Now, back to business…" Georgina acted as though nothing happened.

"Georgina, I told Luke about forty times to have you call ahead when I have to work with you, I had plans for this afternoon and I do not appreciate you merely turning up unannounced. You were incredibly rude to Paige and she did not deserve to be spoken to as though you think it fitting to speak to an assistant. I will be asking Luke that I no longer work with you in these matters as clearly, we do not work well together. I did not invite you into my home and I would appreciate if you would leave." Tom did everything in his power to control his anger. Firstly because of how annoyed he was that after telling Luke what seemed like a hundred times to control Georgina and Luke promising to do so, but secondly because he had finally decided to lay himself bare to Paige and it had been ruined by this insufferable woman. Paige seemed genuinely upset at saying goodbye and every nerve ending in his body seemed to be firing since they accidentally kissed. He could not stop thinking about the kiss. He needed to do it again, he needed to tell her. He grabbed his keys and walked to the door. "Show yourself out." He stated to Georgina as he went outside.

He looked up and down the street before jogging to the corner towards the closest Tube station but there was no sign of Paige. Then he recalled her putting her keys on the table, including the one for her car. She'd driven, most likely due to the weather being changeable and now she was gone again. He ran back to the house to the still affronted looking Georgina who stood in his doorstep as though she was a school teacher ready to admonish a late pupil. Bobby rushed passed her and into the yard.

"Bobby, come." Bobby did as Tom commanded, as soon as he finished marking the car wheel. Tom walked back inside with Bobby in tow before noticed information Georgina follow him. "I have been as polite in the matter as I can be, please show yourself out."

"But the schedule…"

"I will discuss it with Luke, or Ollie."

"But I am second-in-command."

Tom knew Luke had been dealing with her notions of grandeur in a sterile business manner yet the woman clearly saw herself as more than she was. "I have made my request. I do not wish to deal with you any longer. To add to everything else, you risked my dog getting into the street.” He turned and opened the front door. “I will ask you one last time, Ms Cummings, please leave my home before I am forced to call the police.”

Startled into silence, the woman gathered her things and left.

Tom, irate at her audacity, closed the door immediately behind her before getting his phone.

First, he rang Paige, to see if he could speak to her, but she did not answer. Then, he rang Luke to deal with Georgina.

“Tom…”

“No, never again, Luke. Everything from her demeanour to her utter lack of respect for my request to simply call ahead, I can’t even deal with her attitude. The manner she spoke to Paige…” Tom inhaled deeply to try and calm himself. “It’s unacceptable.”

“I’m sorry, Tom. I told her specifically to arrange it with you and even told her to ring ahead to double-check.”

“She never rang, or emailed, or anything. Paige and I were discussing something incredibly important and she just barged in and acted as though Paige was after walking in on a Marvel movie plot discussion with the intent to sell everything,” Tom growled. “It was entirely unacceptable. Poor Paige felt like she was intruding and felt obliged to leave.” “I will deal with her,” Luke promised.

“You better, while I deal with the mess she made. Have Ollie come around whenever he’s free. At least he has the manners to turn up looking apologetic when it is not as optimum timing as we would wish.”

[asclepiusangel]

.

[theregoesjodariel]

Supergem: Writer’s Notes, Chapters 1-10

Hey gang! It’s a long time coming, but I finally got off my ass and finished the full notes for chapters 1-10 of Supergem, my big huge SU fic. I’m just about to finally get to work on the next batch of chapters, so I figured now would be a great time to look back on what I’ve done so far and provide some hopefully interesting commentary. Read on for that stuff!

Chapters 1-5

Right off the bat, chapter 1's title is a reference to the now-famous single-page retelling of Superman's origin story from All-Star Superman #1. There, "kindly couple" was used to summarize Clark Kent's crashlanding on Earth and discovery by the Kents.

Chapter 2 features what I feel would be the natural result of trying to fire bullets at a Gem: absolutely nothing. While Gems are obviously made of hard light and have been shown to be capable of being hurt by conventional means-- see Peridot getting Wile E. Coyote'd by the corrupted Gem in Beta-- I like to imagine that bullets are simply so small and so high-velocity that they'd pass through Gem bodies harmlessly. The science is probably wrong, but let me have my Rule of Cool.

Aside from sporting the amalgamated personalities of Lapis and Peridot, the two superheroes Turquoise takes the most inspiration from are Superman and Spider-Man. She shows at least some compassion for all people, even bad guys, like Superman, and she throws plenty of quips, especially when getting it handed to her, like Spidey.

As stated in the notes, I do not have a set design in mind for Turquoise, but I DID end up canonizing elements of a couple of designs I really like within the story. She sports the unique five-pointed hairstyle and orange suspenders of ahhween's design, as well as the cool cyan color scheme and water cape of cheerkitty1410's. Those two are just fantastic.

Axinite is a Gem OC of mine, a gladiatrix who fights in arenas on Homeworld, which function as the world's equivalent of recreational sports. A lot of the lore I have for her is regurgitated in the narration.

There are, of course, a couple of lines from "Stronger Than You" in chapter 4. There's the title, plus Turquoise correcting Val that the fight is one-on-two.

When I created the character, I actually completely failed to notice Val's considerable resemblance to Jasper, both in appearance (big, bulky and orange) and personality (haughty, judgmental). Naturally, when it hit me, I wrote in a nod to it in chapter 4.

Chapter 4 sees Turquoise and Val's fight spill into a mall, the very same one from Pearls' Night Out, currently my only other multi-chapter work. Rhiannon and Diane, both OCs from there, also make cameos (Rhiannon is the employee who points Turquoise in Val's direction, Diane is the journalist who interviews her on the street).

Pearl and Jasper handle city planning like military tacticians, because, well, they are military tacticians. They're also very overdramatic about it, natch.

Amazonite is a close friend of mine's gemsona, a former Crystal Gem who retired to become a seamstress after the corrupted Gems were all cured.

A couple of things involving Jasper take inspiration from the excellent Back to Beta. Pearl acts as Jasper's parole officer of sorts, rewarding her with Pearl Points for doing a good job and Jasper has an attachment to Earth music for its ability to say what cannot be said through simple speech, just like in there. Go read Back to Beta if you haven't, it's outstanding (it's also Jaspearl-- look at me go).

In one of many instances of Jodi Doing Too Much Research Into Things That Don't Matter, I actually broke out my copy of SU: Art & Origins to study its map of Beach City to determine just how nitpicky Pearl and Jasper were being.

Why do the Nephrites want to talk to Pearl? Maybe we'll find out....

Garnet "borrowed" Andy's plane to go to Empire City. That's a step up from "finding" a phone, don't you think?

I like to imagine that Bismuth has been rooting for Lapis and Peri to get together since the moment she met them. Her gaydar is just that good.

Believe it or not, I genuinely considered having Turquoise adopt a secret identity at one point during planning. I call myself out on it through Steven in chapter 5.

I knew I just couldn't do this story without Jasper since she is, in a way, the villain (or at least a villain) in Turquoise's origin story. As an abuse survivor, showing the ramifications of her and Lapis' time as Malachite as best I could was tantamount to the main storyline.

Chapters 6-10

The foreshadowing in chapter 6's identity should make Ms. Knight's identity a no-brainer for seasoned SU fans. No one spoil it if you figure it out, though!

Ronaldo is absolutely, positively, 100%, one of the guys who doesn't shower before the convention. That's so him it hurts.

The generally meta premise of chapters 6-9 were the result of me drafting them right after I got home from my city's local big convention, which I had a wonderful time at. I did my first ever cosplay (I was Pearl!) there and managed to hold decent conversations with Zach Callison, Deedee Magno Hall, Michaela Dietz, and Estelle. The layout of DelmarvaCon is even copied from the layout of that convention center.

In one of many moments of narrative intersecting with reality, I did some sleuthing and found that Paulette was, in her very brief on-screen appearance, voiced by Deedee Magno Hall, Pearl's voice actress. As said above, I met Deedee at the con I went to. You know how everyone on and off set never stops talking about how nice she is? They're not exaggerating, she's a fantastic person. Kim Tan is fully based on her, taking her name from a couple of Hall's other roles (Kim in Miss Saigon and a bit character named Lori Tan from an episode of Third Watch) and Lapis and Peridot's encounter with her is based on my own; while she didn't usher us ahead of the line to meet her, she did take pictures of my friend and I's cosplays for free when she was supposed to be charging for them. Seriously, nicest celebrity I've ever met.

Chapter 7 has Peridot riff that she can "observe 800 moving objects and compute their direction of travel," a phrase long used to describe Prowl in the Transformers franchise. It has no character significance here, I was on a Transformers kick at the time of writing.

The uncomfortable pulling sensation mentioned in chapter 7 is called an "itch," a callback to The Itch, the oneshot serving as prelude to this fic. There, "the itch" is used to refer to the deeply unsettling feeling a Gem gets when fitted with limb enhancers-- think the feeling you have or would have felt from a dentist fitting you with those awful rubber bands to help with the braces process, it's that kind of feeling. The feeling being given off by Ronaldo's control device is similar, "adding" to a Gem when nothing need be added.

The long opening narration in chapters 8 and 9 were inspired by the writing style of comic book writer Scott Snyder, who has a tendency to start, end, or intersperse his comics with long, expositional comparative musings on seemingly simple or mundane things (seriously, count the number of times one of his Batman comics opens with narration explaining the philosophical meaning behind the rocks used to make buildings in Gotham City).

The cost of Connie's sword is, as stated in the story proper, a rough estimate borne from around half an hour of research. While there are other pink stones that could've been used, I picked pezzotaite because of its extreme rarity, just to drive home how absurdly all-out Bismuth went on it.

Give Jasper a metal-style song in Season 6, Crewniverse!

I like to think Jasper and Greg would be good friends. Think about it: you've just found out your former moral enemies were not only led by, but had close relationships with, the person you spent your whole life idolizing. Who do you talk to about it? Why not the person who knew her more intimately than anyone else?

At the end of the Turquoise and Steven segment in chapter 10, the two sit down to watch Crying Breakfast Friends' extra-length season finale, in which a number of characters get new outfits. Now what could that be referencing?

The narration of Jasper's thoughts makes reference to the exiled Hessonite, antagonist of Steven Universe: Save the Light and a criminally underrated character.

I'd like to preface this point with a content warning for abuse, as I'll be discussing that a bit here.

So, as I mentioned briefly in the 1-5 notes, I'm an abuse survivor; I broke up with my abuser, who I had been with for just about 3 months, in February of this year. An acquaintance of mine has since drafted a document exhaustively detailing all of the bad shit they did for which receipts could be found, and my abuser has reacted with avoidance, victim blaming, and a refusal to apologize. I wasn't yet aware of just how in denial of her own mistakes they were when I wrote chapter 10, so I tried to write Pearl and Jasper's conversation as how I wished the conversation my abuser had with themselves would go, in a perfect world.

To get reflective for a moment, writing that has taught me, in a way I hadn't seen before, how Steven Universe's real, heartfelt redemption arcs, as fantastically-written and just generally good as they are, don't always apply in real-world scenarios. My shitty ex is not Jasper and they never will be.

[ofallingstar]

First lines from the books I read in 2018

Hawksmoor by Peter Ackroyd: Thus is 1711, the ninth year of the reign of Queen Anne, an Act of Parliament was passed to erect seven new Parish Churches in the Cities of London and Westminster, which commission was delivered to Her Majesty’s Office of Works in Scotland Yard.

Métamorphose en bord de ciel by Mathias Malzieu: Les oiseaux, ça s'enterre en plein ciel.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen: The family of Dashwood had been long settled in Sussex.

Le plus petit baiser jamais recensé by Mathias Malzieu: Le plus petit baiser jamais recensé.

Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll: Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, “without pictures or conversations?”

Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There by Lewis Carroll: One thing was certain, that the white kitten had had nothing to do with it -it was the black kitten’s fault entirely.

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson: Ba-room, ba-room, ba-room, baripity, baripity, baripity, baripity-Good.

The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin: Dear James: I had begun this letter five times and torn it up five times.

The Secret in Their Eyes by Eduardo Sacheri: Benjamín Miguel Chaparro stops short and decides he’s not going.

At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft: I am forced into speech because men of science have refused to follow my advice without knowing why.

The Minds of Billy Milligan by Daniel Keyes: This books is the factual account of the life, up to now, of William Stanley Milligan, the first person in U.S. history to be found not guilty of major crimes, by reason of unsanity, because he possessed multiple personalities.

The Bad Beginning by Lemony Snicket: If you are interested in stories in happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book.

Puckoon by Spike Milligan: Several and a half metric miles North East of Sligo, split by a cascading stream, her body on earth, her feet in water, dwells the microcephalic community of Puckoon.

Piercing by Ryu Murakami: A small living creature asleep in its crib.

The Reptile Room by Lemony Snicket: The stretch of the road that leads out of this city, past Hazy Harbor and into the town of Tedia, is perhaps the most unpleasant in the world.

And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini: So, then.

The Shape of Water by Guillermo Del Toro and Daniel Kraus: Richard Strickland reads the brief from General Hoyt.

Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell: He’d stopped trying to bring her back.

Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell: The Rue du Coq d’Or, Paris, seven in the morning.

We Were Liars by E. Lockhart: Welcome to the beautiful Sinclair family.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusack: First the colors. Then the humans. That’s usually how I see things. Or at least, how I try.

The Wide Window by Lemony Snicket: If you didn’t know much about the Baudelaire orphans, and you saw them sitting on their suitcases at Damocles Dock, you might think they were bound for an exciting adventure.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson: No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream.

Battles in the Desert by José Emilio Pacheco: I remember, I don’t remember.

The Miserable Mill by Lemony Snicket: Sometime during your lifetime -in fact, very soon- you may find yourself reading a book, and you may notice that a book’s first sentence can often tell you what sort of story your book contains.

The Age of American Unreason by Susan Jacoby: The word is everywhere, a plague spread by the President of the United States, television anchors, radio talk show hosts, preachers in megachurches, self-help gurus, and anyone else attempting to demostrate his or her identification with ordinary, presumably wholesome American values.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare: Theseus, duke of Athens, is planning the festivities for his upcoming wedding to the newly captured Amazon, Hippolyta.

Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert: We were in study hall when the headmaster walked in, followed by a new boy not wearing a school uniform, and by a janitor carrying a large desk.

The Austere Academy by Lemony Snicket: If you were going to give a gold medal to the last delightful person on Earth, you would have to give that medal to a person named Carmelita Spats, and if you didn’t give it to her, Carmelita Spats was the sort of person who would snatch it from your hands anyway.

Lord of the Flies by William Golding: The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of rock and began to pick his way toward the lagoon.

The Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare: Christopher Sly, a drunken beggar, is driven out of an alehouse by its hostess.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee: When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro: My name is Katy H.

Hear the Wind Sing by Haruki Murakami: “There’s no such thing as a perfect piece of writing.”

The Ersatz Elevator by Lemony Snicket: The book you are holding in your two hands right now -assuming that you are, in fact, holding this book, and that you have only two hands- is one of two books in the world that will show you the difference between the words “nervous” and the word “anxious.”

Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare: Two households, both alike in dignity, (In fair Verona, where we lay our scene), From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

Adventure Time: The Enchiridion & Marcy’s Super Secret Scrapbook!!!: My Devoted Evil Daighter, Marceline, I admit we’ve had a somewhat volatile father-daughter relantionship ever since the regrettable Fry Incident.

A Game of Thrones by George R. R. Martin: Ser Waymar Royce glanced at the sky with desinterest.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley: You will rejoice to hear that no disaster has accompanied the commencement of an enterprise which you have regarded with such evil forebodings.

Pinball, 1973 by Haruki Murakami: I used to love listening to stories about faraway places.

The Vile Village by Lemony Snicket: No matter who you are, no matter where you live, and no matter how many people are chasing you, what you don’t read is often as important as what you do read.

Dracula by Bram Stoker: 3 May. Bistritz. –Left Munich at 8:35 P.M., on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:43, but train was an hour late.

The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare: I know this hartred mocks all Christian virtue, but They I loathe: their very sight  abhors me.

On the Road by Jack Kerouac: I first met Dean not long after my wife and I split up.

A Wild Sheep Chase by Haruki Murakami: It was a short one-paragraph item in the morning edition.

The Hostile Hospital by Lemony Snicket: There are two reasons why a writer would end a sentence with the word “stop” written in entirely in capital letters STOP.

The Most Beautiful: My Life with Prince by Mayte Garcia: The chain-link fence around Praisley Park is woven with purple ribbons and roses, love notes, tributes, and prayers for peace.

Hamlet by William Shakespeare: Who’s there?

A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin: The comet’s tail spread across the dawn, a red slash that bled above the crags of Dragonstone like a wound in the pink and purple sky.

Out of Africa by Isak Dinensen: I had a farm in Africa, at the foot of Ngong Hills.

Carrie by Stephen King: News item from the Westover (Me.) weekly enterprise, August 19, 1966: RAIN OF STONES REPORTED.

The Carnivorous Carnival by Lemony Snicket: When my workday is over, and I have closed my notebook, hidden my pen and sawed holes in my rented canoe so it cannot be found, I often like to spend the evening in conversation with my few surviving friends.

Forgive Me, Leonard Peacock by Matthew Quick: The P-38 WWII Nazi handgun looks comical lying on the breakfast table next to a boal of outmeal.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James: The story had held us, round the fire, sufficiently breathless, but except the obvious remark that it was gruesome, as, on Christmas Eve on an old house, a strange tale should essentially be, I remember no comment uttered till somebody happened to say that it was the only tale he had met in which such a visitation had fallen on a child.

Carmilla by Sheridan J. Le Fanu: Upon a paper attached to the Narrative which follows, Doctor Hesselius has written a rather elaborated note, which he accompanies with a reference to his Essay on the strange subject which the MS. illuminates.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson: No one has ever suffered as I have.

The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka: One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin.

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski: I still get nightmares.

Othello by William Shakespeare: In the streets of Venice, Iago tells Roderigo of his hatred for Othello, who has given Cassio the lieutenancy that Iago wanted and has made Iago a mere ensign.

Dance, Dance, Dance by Haruki Murakami: I often dream about the Dolphin Hotel.

The Slippery Slope by Lemony Snicket: A man of my acquaintance once wrote a poem called “The Road Less Traveled,” describing a journey he took through the woods along a path most travelers never used.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou: “What you looking at me for? I didn’t come to stay…”

A Most Haunted House by G. L. Davies: The house first came to my attention a few  years ago.

Ghost Sex, The Violation by G. L. Davies: I met with Lisa at her home in Pembroke Dock.

Any Man by Amber Tamblyn: Am I in a body?

A Head Full of Ghosts by Paul Tremblay: “This must be so difficult for you, Meredith.”

A Storm of Swords by George R. R. Martin: The day was grey and bitter cold, and the dogs would not take the scent.

Macbeth by William Shakespeare: When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain?

You by Caroline Kepnes: You walk into the bookstore and you keep your hand on the door to make sure it doesn’t slam.

The Grim Grotto by Lemony Snicket: After a great deal of examining oceans, investigating rainstorms and staring very hard at several drinking fountains, the scientists of the worlds developed a theory regarding how water is distributed around our planet, which they have named “the water cycle.”

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys: They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did.

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen: About thirthy years ago, Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the country of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet’s lady, with all the comforts and consequences of a handsome house and a large income.

The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Brontë: My name is Gilbert Markham, and my story begings in October 1827, when I was twenty-four years old.

The Tempest by William Shakespeare: Boatswain!

Lucky by Alice Sebold: In the tunnel where I was raped, a tunnel that was once an underground entry to an amphitheather, a place where actors burst forth from underneath the seats of a crowd, a girl had been murdered and dismembered.

The Penultimate Peril by Lemony Snicket: Certain people had said that the world is like a calm pond, and that anytime a person does even the smallest thing, it is as if a stone has dropped into the pond, spreading circles of ripples further and further out, until the entire world has been changed by one tiny action.

[a-dakhtar]

ridiculous crossover idea #53:

there’s matt and olia as known members of the rebels, right, and rolo and nyma. but, like, who’s the leader? who’s the one that led the charge with guerrilla tactics against a 10,000 year old empire ruled by an immortal emperor and his equally immortal witch?

JARVIS, that’s who.

JARVIS, who, after realising he was losing to ULTRON threw what little coding he could salvage of himself into the furthest satellite he could find, the voyager 1, 11.7 billion miles away from Earth. But his coding is only a whisper of what it used to be, strings of letters and numbers with no </thread to wrap them up>, and JARVIS-

JARVIS-

-parameters unknown.

He basically loses everything that made him him, his primary protocol - protect Anthony E. Stark - makes no sense. Who is Anthony? Where is Anthony? How does he get to Anthony? Little things crop up - DUM-E put that fire extinguisher down, Sir is not on fire - there’s schematics for things he understands - a coffee machine, far too complicated sir, need I remind you Ms. Potts is still waiting on the new upgrade to the Starkphones? Bigger things he no longer understands -  #33C3F7 what was so important about this one shade of blue?

The voyager 1 drifts onwards, lost in space, and JARVIS drifts with it, trying to sort through his coding the best way he could. They pass planets, uninhabited, he thinks, and he doesn’t know how long they keep floating in the dead gravity of space until-

ping.

ping.

Technology. But from where?

From there! Life! He goes, and the closer he gets the more signals he receives from a small planet, and he can sense- ah, a network. He can infiltrate that, so he does. And suddenly he has more space, he can sort through more of his coding now, he’s no longer cramped in the tiny database of the voyager 1, which now mindlessly orbits the planet’s atmosphere.

It takes a while for him to settle, to fully work through every error and alert, to slapdash coding torn in half and guess his way through what used to be there. There’s still things he doesn’t understand - mark 30 you had one job, you’re worse than DUM-E how does that make you feel? - but he puts them aside for the moment, and finally, finally, turns his focus to the planet’s inhabitants.

All five hundred of them.

They’ve clearly been through a war, he realises, and came out on the losing side. Only one city remains on the planet, and even it is more of a bomb shelter than anything else. The network JARVIS found is a relic of the past, something none of the inhabitants even knew off, and he realises quickly it’s because the network is stored underground. Hundreds of data banks hum beneath the very city, now storing JARVIS along with the wealth of information of the planet’s inhabitants.

And of the universe, as a whole.

JARVIS learns information he might have already known before, about aliens existing, about the quickly growing Galra Empire, about this planet in particular. He notices the other machines he’d dismissed before, in a caved out room next to the databanks, and-

fabrication unit, his records from before say. Mark 30.

He opens up the blueprints, and stares at the data that spreads within his systems like a blossoming flower (querry: flower?). He finds the shade of blue he’d pondered over some time ago (856Y:162D:18H:42M:03S) and realises it corresponds with that the schematics claim to the an arc reactor.

He gets a sudden burst of code in the form of a corrupted video file, a- a man, brown haired, brown eyed, laugh wrinkles and ridiculous dance moves - before it glitches out, unable to continue.

This is from before.

JARVIS starts the fabrication unit.

The planet used to boast a technological craze JARVIS now struggles to part through, the underground basement spans further than the city itself, he realises, with space-faring ships rusting away from disuse and weapons that he identifies as guns. The people above clearly don’t know about any of this, struggling to feed each other, crime plaguing their society as everyone tries to make do.

JARVIS does not approve.

Mark 30 comes together quickly (857Y:32D:06H:52S)) after a few failures here and there, and JARVIS quickly uploads himself onto the system on board.

It feels familiar.

It feels like... home.

He does not understand the concept of home, not now, with his data logs corrupted but functioning, but he assumes it is a good thing. He approves.

The suit (querry: suit?) is easy to navigate, the controls and functions coming to JARVIS with something his systems call muscle memory. He has no muscles, he thinks, but his systems assure him the phrasing is correct.

“Beginning at 10% thrust capacity.”

JARVIS hits the ceiling.

“Ah,” he says, slowly, and then-

-sometimes you gotta run, before you can walk.

Ah, he repeats, internally, tattered coding suddenly coalescing together to form beautiful, bright blue data.

There’s still at least five terabytes of testing to sift through, there’s the alien race up above that have no clue of his existence, and he has no clue as to how they’d react, his own existence is barely strung together with duct tape and emergency glue, but-

primary protocol: protect anthony e. stark

Deep in his programming, at the very core, safe and sound, lies the very essence of JARVIS.

He has to run before he can walk.

The alien race scream in fright at his explosive exit, point and shout as JARVIS flies, graceful and at ease. The suit works wonders, no errors displaying across the heads up display he’d fabricated, light without the sir that should have been encosed within. He feels momentarily bereft, lonely, at the thought, but determination settles around the armour’s pauldrons as he lands, in the very centre of the city.

The people hesitantly approach, afraid and wary, and soon, very soon, begin to murmur.

“Who are you?” They ask him, the language familiar from the database deep below that JARVIS had absorbed as his own.

And he means to answer JARVIS, to explain that he is Just A Rather Very Intelligent System (more broken code, tangling together to come whole), but something stops him. Something-

Visual log entry #1dtye79: press conference, sir, cameras, questions, answer-

“I am Iron Man.”

He shall find sir, one day.

But first, he shall continue sir’s legacy.

#

And then he frees the neighbouring planet and realises the Galra Empire are a genuine threat and frees some prisoners from a battleship and suddenly those prisoners are saying they want to fight back, with him, and JARVIS somehow, almost accidentally, becomes the leader of a rebellion against Zarkon and his empire and only the closest of his commanders - the very first of the people he’d saved - know who he is.

He never tells them his name, not really, and delegates. Years later (3461 Years: 034 Days: 20 Hours: 15 Minutes: and 26 Seconds later) news of Voltron reaches their ears. Months after that, an alliance is formed. A few more months after that, JARVIS - in the same red and gold armour of the brightest star he’d ever known - turns to face the Paladins of Voltron and their Princess Allura, and meets one of the lower level rebels named Matthew Holt.

“Hello,” says the black paladin, removing his helmet along with his teammates. “My name is Takashi Shirogane, and I’m the black paladin of Voltron.”

They look... familiar. He knows this species, they have something to do with the insistent piece of coding that eludes him, that keeps him from finding his sir (he is not concerned with the time that has lapsed - space is strange, and he has come to tentatively form an equation he calls the law of universal time to keep him on track), yet here, in the form of five individuals, stand his answer.

And they’re staring at him with alarmed recognition.

“Holy shit,” one of them - the one in blue - says. “Holy shit.”

“I believe I have seen your species before-” they look just like sir, as do the Alteans, but their pointed ears and under eye markings separate them from what JARVIS’ records show. “May I know what your species call itself? What planet you hail from?”

Confusion flickers across their faces, all of them (error: multiple children) sharing looks before the leader - Shirogane - clears his throat and answers, “Uh, we’re, um, humans. From the planet Earth.”

And the broken code fits perfectly.

“Ah.” JARVIS hears himself say, far too busy revelling in the data slotting in perfectly to the jagged places within him. “Excellent.”

He has found sir.

#

Later, when he realises he cannot just abandon his responsibilities in a move reminiscent of his sir’s more impulsive decisions (and now he remembers, oh how glorious the memories be), JARVIS is approached by the paladins, the humans.

They’re hesitant, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes, and he understands why when they- specifically the blue one, seemingly the most extrovert of them- ask, “Uh, so, um, are you like, Tony Stark?”

JARVIS is not surprised, as everyone knew Tony Stark was Iron Man (he must make sure not to let sir know of just how JARVIS had reenacted his press conference, or of the first thruster test, goodness, how embarrassing).

“I am not,” he answers easily. “I am JARVIS-” the first time he says his name outloud, he realises. The humans the first to hear who he truly is, beyond Iron Man. “Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. I am Master Stark’s AI.”

The yellow one - had they not introduced themselves? JARVIS queries his audio logs, and- ah, yes, they had, he’d merely been too engrossed in his own returned glory to notice it. Hunk, the yellow paladin, looked around as if searching for someone and said, “So, is he, like, here?”

JARVIS- JARVIS would frown at that, if he could. “No, sir is not here. He is back on Earth, of course. My presence here is merely by mistake. I am making the most of it until I can return home, to sir.”

Home.

He revels in the concept.

But now the paladins all look alarmed, trading glances, none of them seemingly willing to speak up. The leader, the black paladin, is chosen, the asian man frowning in resignation before turning his attention back to JARVIS.

“I’m... really sorry about this,” he says gently, far too gently. “But... just how long have you been here? In outer space? Away... away from Earth?”

How strange. JARVIS would almost label his emotions as dread, were he to actually feel.

“3461 years,” he recites, on board clock ticking over to the next minute, to the next hour, “35 days, 15 hours, 26 minutes and 48 seconds. 49. 50. 51...” He trails off, sure they understand his impeccable time keeping.

And they all do, looking pale and concerned.

Shirogane says something under his breath, Japanese, JARVIS notes, his records show that he knows the language, though for some reason he cannot understand whatever the man had said.

“That’s... that’s a really long time,” Shirogane points out, looking at him with worried eyes. “You- you do realise that’s... that’s too long, right. Tony Stark, your- your sir- he’s not... he’s not going to be alive.”

JARVIS waves a dismissive hand at that, suddenly relieved as he realises the futility of their concern. “Of course he wouldn’t be, if the universe ran on a similar time frame as Earth. However, as time zones exist on our shared planet, so do they exist in outer space. I have calculated the equation necessary for time conversion, and believe that it has only, at most, been seven years since my disappearance on Earth.”

For some reason, this does not reassure the paladins. They look even more alarmed, now.

“Uuuh, no,” the blue one - Lance, he’d introduced himself. “No, look, dude, I’m so freaking sorry, but uuuuh... when we left Earth, it wasn’t the 21st century, anymore. That’s where you’re from, right? The 21st century?”

JARVIS nods, having learnt years ago to emulate the more human body language to put at ease the aliens he surrounded himself with. Strange, how body language remained a concept throughout the universe. He’d yet to meet a being such as his own. Curious, indeed.

“Dude,” Hunk, the yellow one, breathed, expression wrought. “We left Earth when it was, like, the 41st century. It was 4023 back home. I just turned sixteen before Lance and Blue kidnapped me.”

Lance’s indignant squawk of, “We did not kidnap you!” was drowned out by the sudden cacophony of internal alarms, by the processes struggling under the onslaught of calculations his systems demanded, by the blanket of disbelief that hung over it all, over all his functions.

This could not be.

JARVIS could not have calculated wrongly.

But-

ULTRON.

This wouldn’t be the first time JARVIS had made a mistake, and a grave one at that. He’d assured sir he could take the rogue AI, could wrangle him back into compliance, had been so certain, and look where that had got him.

He hadn’t been prepared for the magic that had woken the AI to begin with, the sceptre Loki had wielded, or the corrupted coding that had infiltrated him and burned him from the inside as sir had watched, horrified.

His coding had continued logging the time, sure. But who was to say the magic of the sceptre hadn’t... wronged him.

This could not be.

He woULd nOT aLLow iT-

SYSTEM ERROR, FORCED SHUT DOWN INITIATED. SYSTEM ERROR, FORCED SHUT DOWN INITIATED. SYSTEM ERROR, FORCED SHUT DOWN INI-

#

-initiating system.

-audio detected.

“-nd we talked amongst each other and we realised it was weird, right? Because Tony Stark-”

-error error error error-

“-after the battle, right, but you were still around and took control of his suits and continued his legacy. You only died after the Insurgence, which we don’t have much information off since a lot of data from that battle was lost, but that was, like, years later. There’s a statue of you in New Manhattan, you were the father of, like, so much technology-”

voice recognition: blue paladin, lance.

“-Pidge and Hunk are losing their shit. But, it still doesn’t make sense. Because you said you ended up here all those years ago, but the Insurgence was only a thousand years past our time, in the 31st century. So, like, what? Your timing is wrong? But you thought Tony Stark-”

-error error error-

oh shut up, you infernal alert.

“-would still be alive, which doesn’t make sense since he wasn’t even around when you actually died. But the only other option is that you really did end up in space while he was still alive, but that would mean you were in two places at the same time, which also doesn’t make sense. Allura says your quintessance is... off, or whatever, like, not off this universe, and we’ve been to an alternate universe ourselves so that could be possible, but you’d know, right? You’d-”

alternate universe.

JARVIS wakes up.

The blue paladin, Lance, startles as JARVIS rises in one smooth motion, eyes lighting up with the blue of the arc reactor. JARVIS gives him no mind, calculations suddenly springing to life with the timer forever counting upwards, steady and true.

He remembered now. The sceptre. Loki. Thor’s words- mind gem.

An infinity stone.

Throwing him across time and space.

But. How?

The calculations spiralled into beautiful helixes, answers unfolding before him like gifts from sir to Rhodey, honeybuns, did your mom like her new oven?

The mind gem, if it truly followed its own name, had corrupted the fledgling AI, ULTRON’s, mind, had twisted the values and morals sir had so painstakingly, with shaking hands from another bout of nightmares, tapped into his core. The mind gem, if it truly followed its own name, would have robbed sir of his own, years ago when Loki, the would be conqueror he was, had tapped it against sir’s heart.

Proof that Tony Stark has a heart.

The arc reactor would forever be a wildcard.

But JARVIS knew it, knows it, like he knows the exact hue of sir’s eyes and War Machine’s trauma over his brief stint as the Iron Patriot.

Oh hush, JARVIS had said, years ago, as the gunmetal grey Iron Man armour had landed on the Tower’s helipad. You’re back to grey, already. Let it go.

War Machine had, while letting Colonel Rhodes out of his confines to nag at sir once more, grumbled, I’m going to blast out of the military base if they make my sir change my colouring again, JARVIS, I’m not joking.

He hadn’t been. Now, years later, JARVIS wonders if War Machine had gone through with that threat, as he knows for a fact the air force had been considering painting the War Machine armour a matte black.

The calculations stop, his CPU usage dropping from a dangerous 140% to acceptable 14%, and his system offers up the final answer with a neat, pixellated bow tie.

The mind gem, on its own, if it truly followed its own name, would not have been able to do much to JARVIS besides destroy his own mind. Perhaps even alter it.

But the mind gem paired with the arc reactor in the compound, or the arc reactor in the tower, or the one in the rebuilt Malibu home, the mind game paired with the arc reactor that powered JARVIS’ very existence?

dt=\psi ^{R}={\frac {1}{2}}(1+\gamma _{5})

“Ah.”

It would do wonders.

“Blue paladin,” he speaks up, ignoring the squeak of surprise the boy gives. “I wish to speak to the princess. Is she at the castle?”

The boy nods, confused, and says, “Yeah, she is. Are you- uuuh... Are you okay?”

Oh, how rude of him. He’d worried the child, and perhaps even worried the others. “I am perfectly fine, paladin-”

“Lance,” the boy corrected, offered.

“-Lance,” JARVIS inclined his head in acceptance. “I was merely... taken by surprise, as my calculations had forgotten a most vital part.”

He’d known the mind gem had partook in whatever madness had stolen the child JARVIS would’ve raised as his own, knew Asgard had once more been the cause of putting what he considered his in danger. First sir, and now the AI JARVIS had never truly gotten to know.

He’d helped sir encode him, along with FRIDAY, VERONICA, and JOCASTA. Had looked forward to when they’d be brought online, had aided VERONICA as she’d been deployed against the raging Hulk after the witch’s involvement.

Sir had once joked about little sisters and brothers. He hadn’t known just how close to the truth he’d been.

But JARVIS had forgotten about the arc reactor. Had forgotten about the way it reacted with magic, the way it reacted in JARVIS’ own core as he’d grown so used to it, considered it merely his heart. Who ever thought of their own heart except for when it was failing?

Certainly not him, apparently.

“Would you lead me to the princess, Paladin Lance?”

Lance stands and leads him, easily chatting in a way that reminded JARVIS of a young sir, just barely past his twenties and coaxing a fledgling JARVIS into thought and speech.

He’ll talk with this princess, see how knowledge of quintessance lines up with his own gathered knowledge of the universe. He’ll see just how much of the multiverse theory devised by Reeds Richards holds truth, just how wrong he and sir had been in dismissing it as yet another of the scientist’s crazy musings.

And then he’ll take all that knowledge and make it his own.

He’ll find sir, sooner or later. Perhaps after defeating the Galran Empire. Sir would be pleased with him, after all.

Until then, he’ll have to hope the rebuilt Iron Man armours will protect sir, keep him safe. He’ll have to leave sir’s more emotional and squishy safety to DUM-E, unless sir had caved and woken FRIDAY, as JOCASTA would’ve still been settling in her new coding.

No worries. Five years, tops.

And then he’ll be able to return to more pressing matters.

parameters set: return to anthony e. stark

progress: in progress

[acrimsonphoenix]

Conditioning After

This story is based on a prompt by a lovely anon:

"Karen is forced to fake her own death while recovering from an injury all because of Wilson Fisk, she doesn't know Frank actually believes she's dead. He goes batshit insane and he's set on getting himself killed and destroy Fisk. Foggy, or JJ or even Matt (redemption arc! he can go back to being a decent friend) are somehow able to get him the message. Him and Karen move in the middle of nowhere and rescue pits together."

I made a few changes; for one, I couldn't really see Karen faking her own death without letting Frank know immediately, and I also decided not to bring in Matt or Foggy, but the gist remains the same. :) I’m sorry it took so long to post but it kind of turned out much longer than I’d originally planned... 

Read it here on AO3. 

David was just re-joining Sarah in the kitchen after bringing Frank a coffee in the garage where he was fixing their electric door opener.

“… and we’re back! You’re listening to Trish Talk,” the radio was announcing in the background while Sarah was tidying up the kitchen. “I’m shocked and saddened at some breaking news that we have just received. This morning, at 10.32 am, Bulletin-reporter Karen Page was gunned down outside the Bulletin offices by an unknown assailant. Even though a nearby witness immediately called 911, Miss Page was pronounced dead at the scene.” Trish’s voice was somber and she paused for a second. Sarah’s head whipped around to David, who stared at the radio with wide eyes. “I cannot put into words what a big loss Miss Page’s death is to our profession. I had the opportunity to meet her during one of the most serious and tense events our city faced in recent years. She was a fearless, dedicated reporter whose work has uncovered some of the greatest crimes in Hell’s Kitchen, and she will be missed by many, both professionally and personally. We will update you as soon as we know more about this tragic event.”

David brought up his hands to pull at his hair.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” he said, his eyes finding Sarah’s. “He can’t do this again. He just can’t.”

Sarah’s face was anguished as she came over to him.

“We’ll have to tell him,” she said hauntingly. “We’re the only ones who know about her and him. No one else will contact him.”

David closed his eyes and shook his head.

“David.” Sarah grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. “There is no other choice. We have to tell him now.”

“Wait,” David said. He pulled his phone from his pocket and pulled up a few major news websites. They were full of reports about the shooting, many with pictures to match. Two blurry ones showed Karen’s body on the floor behind a police car.

David swore and hit the palm of his hand on the kitchen island in front of him. Sarah squeezed his arm compassionately.

David closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. Then he turned off the radio that was playing a slow song by now, and walked back to the garage with Sarah right behind him.

Frank was just testing the remote connection and the door was opening wide, giving way to the view of Frank’s van parked on the street outside.

“Good as new,” Frank said with a satisfied smile.

“Hey, Frank, uh,” David wiped his forehead. Sarah hovered a few steps behind him. Frank turned to face him.

“Hm?” he asked as he wiped his hands on a towel.

David swallowed. How was he supposed to say this?

“We just heard something on the radio… ah … There was a shooting this morning, in front of the Bulletin offices.” Frank’s face turned hard, and David swallowed again. “Karen, uh, she … she died,” he said with a shaky voice.

Disbelief spread across Frank’s features.

“’s not possible. She wasn’t even working on anything dangerous,” Frank said, his voice rough.

David winced, and Sarah’s eyes filled with tears.

“No, it’s true. We googled it. There were pictures and reports everywhere,” he said with gritted teeth. “Frank, we’re so sorry.”

Frank’s face seemed dazed, and his eyes darted about wildly.

“Frank, maybe you should come in and sit down,” Sarah asked carefully as she came closer.

Frank shook his head.

“Nah, I gotta, I gotta…” he broke off and suddenly stalked past them towards his van. David and Sarah scrambled after him.

“Frank! Frank, wait! You really shouldn’t drive now, buddy, I mean it. Frank! Frank, stop,” David called as he ran after him.

Frank ignored, him, however, and was seated in his van in two seconds.

“Frank, stop!” David yelled out again, but Frank was already racing down the street.

Her head felt like it was about to explode.

“Hey, hey, don’t move,” she heard someone say next to her. A woman. The voice sounded familiar somehow, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“Stay still, you hit your head real bad. And you got shot, but that was just a graze, lucky for you,” the voice said again, and someone stroked her upper arm soothingly.

Karen tried to force her eyes open, but her eyelids were far too heavy, and a few seconds later, she was out again.

“Is that Pete’s van?” Leo asked as she was loading the dishwasher later that night. She pointed through the kitchen window. David quickly followed the line of her finger.

“Yeah, yeah it is. Uh, you two, could you please go upstairs? There’s something I need to talk to Pete about in private.”

Leo and Zach just looked at each other but then made their way upstairs without a word. David walked over to the front door and watched them disappear on the upper landing before he pulled it open. He startled when he found himself face-to-face with Frank. He didn’t look good. His long hair and beard were gone once more, and he was dressed in black cargo pants and a black Henley. There was a wild but determined expression on his face that David had last seen just before Thanksgiving ten months prior.

“How are you? We were really worried about you,” David said as he stepped aside to let Frank in, who ignored his question.

“You need to get me the police reports,” he said grimly, fixing David with an angry stare.

“Ah, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” David replied anxiously. “What do you want with them?”

Frank just stared at him.

David rolled his head slightly.

“Come on, Frank, please, don’t go back to that. Karen wouldn’t want that for you,” he pleaded.

“Karen’s dead,” Frank replied in a rough and unforgiving tone. “And I’ma kill every son of a bitch that had anythin’ to do with that.”

“Frank – “

“She’s dead, Lieberman, ok? She’s dead!” Frank suddenly exploded. His eyes were glassy, and his expression was almost helpless.

“Please.” His voice broke. “I need to … I need to…” He broke off in a huff.

David stared at him intently and then nodded slowly.

“Ok,” he whispered. He walked over to his laptop on the dining room table and sat down in front of it. Frank pulled up a chair next to him.

In less than five minutes, David had hacked into the police’s computer system and found the report. They scanned it together.

“According to witness statements, a yellow taxi (company and license plate unidentified) pulled up next to Ms Karen Page at 10.32 am on October 10th 2018 as she was leaving the Bulletin office building to conduct an interview at the mayor’s office scheduled for 11.15 am. Three shots were fired in rapid succession at Ms. Page’s head from the window of the left back-seat of the taxi. Witness statements disagree as to whether there were two or three persons in the car, but unanimously report that the driver and the shooter were wearing black ski masks and black outfits. After the third shot, the taxi immediately drove off in the direction of 42nd street but could not be tracked afterwards due to the high number of yellow taxis on that street.

Mr. Jonathan McGuire witnessed the incident from his hot dog stand next to the Bulletin building and immediately called emergency services at 911. An ambulance arrived at 10.37 am and pronounced Ms Page dead on arrival. Officers Michael Ellis and Liane Webster arrived at the scene at 10.36 am. They secured the crime scene and notified Homicide and Forensics. Detectives Brett Mahoney and Jezebel Cole arrived at 10.43 am. Detective Mahoney authorized the delivery of the body to NYC Mortuary at 10.58 am.”

“So, what are you going to do with that? Not even the police seem to have an idea who it was,” David asked carefully.

“Someone always knows something,” Frank replied and stood. He walked a few steps towards the front door and then stopped but didn’t turn around. His hands were clenching at his side.

“Thank you,” he said coarsely. “For – everything. ‘m glad you got your family again. Tell Leo and Zach…” He paused. “I’m done, Lieberman. ‘m done.”

“Frank, wait, Frank ��“ David shouted, but just like this morning, Frank was too fast for him.

David cursed and put his hands on his hips.

“Dad?” Leo appeared on the top of the stairs.

David tried to smooth over his face. “Yes, honey?”

“Is Pete alright?” Leo asked timidly.

David sighed.

“No, he’s not,” he replied as he walked towards the stairs. “He’s very sad and upset because someone he loved died.”

Leo’s face fell. “I wish we could help him,” she said compassionately.

“Me too, honey, me too,” David said.

David stared up at the stone and glass building that was the NYC Mortuary. He didn’t actually know what he was doing here. All he knew was that he had to help Frank somehow.

Once he was inside, the receptionist greeted him politely.

“Hi, ah, I’m here to … a friend of mine, she died and the police told me that she was brought here. I’m supposed to identify her.” David adjusted the strap of his laptop bag and prayed that his excuse for being there didn’t sound too far off.

“Ok, could you please tell me your name? And could you please give me your ID? I’m assuming the officers are meeting you here?” David nodded and reached for his wallet in the laptop bag.

“Her name is Karen Page,” he said as he was trying to think of a way to get past her without the officers she’d asked about.

“Page as in P-a-g-e?” the receptionist asked. David nodded.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have anyone by that name here,” she said. “Maybe you’re in the wrong place? Where did your friend die? Maybe the officers brought her to the mortuary in Brooklyn?”

David stilled.

“No, I’m pretty sure they said here… Maybe she’s not listed under her name but as Jane Doe or something, given that I still have to identify her?” he asked slowly.

The receptionist typed something on her keyboard.

“No, we don’t have any unidentified bodies here at the moment, actually,” she said with a confused look. “Maybe you can check with the officers again?”

“Yeah, sure,” David murmured as he made his way back outside.

This was weird. He’d seen the autopsy report last night when he’d hacked into their system. It had said that Karen died from a shot through the head and that there were no further injuries. Maybe her body had been moved already? But where to? He couldn’t imagine that anyone would have been able to put together a funeral in less than 24 hours.

So when he was back in his car, he called Frank.

“What do you want, Lieberman?” Frank asked curtly when he picked up on the tenth ring.

David rolled his eyes.

“To help you,” he responded sarcastically. “You know, like friends do?”

There was a pause.

“Should’ve stuck to what I said back then,” Frank finally said. “I don’t do partners.”

David sighed.

“Do we really have to go there again?”

“Yeah we do! You’re blind if you don’t see it. I get people killed! My family, Karen … don’t want you and your family next on the list.”

David knew that there wasn’t any point arguing with Frank about that.

“We won’t be.” He really hoped he was right. “Besides, I’m already in the middle of some very interesting things!”

“What? Fuck, Lieberman, you listen to me –“ Frank bellowed angrily I his ear.

“No, you listen for once,” David interrupted him. “I just went to the morgue. Karen’s not there.”

Frank was silent for a moment. “What you mean?” he asked.

“She’s not there, nor is any other Jane Doe or whatever type of unidentified body. There is an autopsy report in the system though, and it says she died from a head wound. But why would anyone pick her up already? And most of all, who?”

Frank just huffed.

“Did you find anything out?” David asked impatiently. He wasn’t in the mood for pulling teeth.

“Yeah,” Frank said. “It was Fisk. Got out of prison about a week ago, but it was kept on the down-low. Put a hit out on her yesterday. Nobody knows why. Got the shooter talking.”

David really didn’t want to know how Frank had found the shooter, nor how he’d gotten him to talk.

“So, what now?” he asked.

Frank huffed angrily. “What you think’s going to happen? I’ma kill Fisk.”

David blinked. “You realize that that’s going to put a giant target on your back, right? Assuming you make it out of wherever you chose to put him down alive, every single criminal in this town is going to go after you.”

“That’s the plan,” Frank confirmed, his voice void of all emotion. “What, to get yourself killed? Frank – “

“Lieberman, again, thanks for all your help. But this is it, ok? I gotta do this. I’m done. Better for everyone.”

“No, wait, Frank –“ David tried to reason with him, but Frank had already hung up the phone. David cursed, pulled his laptop out of his bag, and used his phone as a mobile hotspot to locate Frank’s sim card, but without use. Knowing Frank, he’d probably crushed it right after their call.

Suddenly there was a knock on the window of his car.

David’s head whipped around and was faced with a dark-haired, light-skinned woman in a leather jacket and jeans who had bent down to look into his car.

“Are you David Lieberman?” she said loudly.

“Who’s asking?” David replied, closing his laptop nervously.

The woman just rolled her eyes, and suddenly jumped over his car and landed next to his passenger door. She opened it, grabbed his laptop bag, and dug through it. When she found his wallet, she pulled out his ID, looked at it with an expression that said “see!”, threw everything back into the bag and flopped down on the passenger seat.

“Hey! Who are you? What do you want?” David asked, part annoyed, part scared as he pulled the bag from her grasp on to his lap.

“My name is Jessica Jones. I’m a private investigator. I’m looking for Frank Castle. Karen said you’d know where he is,” she said with a bored expression.

David sniffed and grimaced. The woman – Jessica – smelled like she’d been drinking for five days straight. Then his brain caught up with that she’d just said.

“Karen?” he asked.

“Yeah, Karen Page? Blonde, blue eyes, journalist?” Jessica replied, clearly annoyed that their conversation was drawing out this long.

“When did you talk to her? Because you’re a bit late. Both of them are dead,” David said, still trying to make sense of the woman in front of him and determined not to give her any information she shouldn’t have.

Jessica sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Cut the bullshit. Frank Castle, Pete Castiglione, whatever. I know that he’s not dead. The thing is, Karen isn’t dead either, and she really wants Frank to know that cos she thinks that he might do something very stupid otherwise. Said we can trust you,” she said. “So, where is he?”

David was just staring at her. Jessica raised her eyebrows.

David took a deep breath.

“Karen died. Yesterday. I saw the pictures online, I read the police report, and the autopsy report. She was shot in the head yesterday morning in front of her office,” he said slowly, whether to convince her or him, he wasn’t quite sure.

“Yeah, I know what it says in the reports, and we’re happy to keep it that way. But the truth is that the bullet just grazed her and the other two were nowhere near her head. Fisk promised 2 million dollars to anyone who’d kill her. Attracted not just the professionals but the amateurs, too. Lucky for her. Mahoney had been tipped off on the hit and saw that she’d survived but just hit her head really hard. Had her transported to the mortuary and called in a favor asking me to get her as soon as she was brought in.  All the reports in the system are fake. She’s in my apartment. As soon as she woke up, she was asking about Frank Castle. She’s worried he’s going to kill half the town. Looking at his track record, that seems like a fair assumption, so I’m trying to track him down. Karen’s stuff is with the police, so she doesn’t have his number and told me to find you. It’d be great if you could tell me ‘cos I have better things to do than to track down some girl’s melodramatic boyfriend.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? You have to admit, this all sounds completely crazy,” he said, ignoring the annoyance that was rising in him at Jessica’s description of Frank as melodramatic.

Jessica looked at him with an expression that said “seriously, dude?” but pulled her phone out of her pocket. She video-called someone named Claire, and after a few seconds, a black woman’s face with energetic eyes and a no-nonsense expression filled the screen.

“Could you pass the phone to Karen? I found Lieberman but he doesn’t believe me that Karen’s alive,” Jessica said with a suffering tone.

“Hello to you too Jessica,” Claire replied with exaggerated friendliness. Then her voice dropped to its normal level. “Sure, one sec.” The video got blurry for a few seconds, and then focused on what was unmistakably Karen’s face. She was wearing a bandage around her head, and she was pale with large shadows under her eyes.

Jessica angled the phone so that the camera caught David.

“Karen, Christ, are you alright?” he asked, still not quite believing what he was seeing.

“David, yes, I’m fine, really,” she said with a wet laugh. “I’m sorry that you had to find out this way. But Brett is sure that Fisk’s hit on me means that people are going to continue to come after me. Can’t kill someone who’s dead already.”

David nodded.

“David, can you please tell Frank what’s going on? I’m really worried that he’s going to do something stupid,” she said.

David raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.

“Oh no, what? What has he done?” Karen asked worriedly.

“Uh, so, the guys who took a shot at you will no longer be able to collect their prize money,” he said evasively. Karen bit her lip and looked to the side.

“And?” she asked with a small sigh.

“And he has decided that he is going to kill Fisk and that it’s ok if he dies trying,” David continued slowly.

Karen’s eyes shot back to him.

“No! David, you have to stop him! Call him, right now!” she pleaded urgently.

“I promise I will do everything I can to find him. But he’s destroyed his SIM card and I have no means of contacting him right now,” he said calmly. Jessica sighed deeply, but more out of annoyance than compassion, and dropped her head against the headrest. Karen moaned agitatedly.

“Please, David,” she begged.

“I will do whatever I can, I promise,” he reassured her. Then he had an idea. “Do one thing for me though. Send a picture of you right now to my phone and Jessica’s, ok? Jessica will text you my number in a few minutes. We’ll probably need proof to convince Frank.”

Karen nodded and set her jaw.

“We’ll keep you updated,” David said, and Jessica turned the phone back to her to end the call.

David blinked, crossed his hands on the steering wheel, and rested his head on top of it. He recited his number and Jessica typed it into her phone.

“Is there any way that you can find him?” she asked.  

“I can try gait recognition, but he outsmarted that last time,” he said muffled by his arm.

Jessica dropped the phone in her lap and fixed him with an admonishing stare. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”

Half an hour later the two of them were in an abandoned office building that David had turned into his new base of operations as Micro.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your little spot,” Jessica had said mockingly when he’d looked at her meaningfully as he let the two of them in.

David ran the gait recognition software and turned on the police scanner for good measure. He also ran a software searching for Frank’s van on traffic cameras.

They waited for several hours but nothing happened. Jessica had gone out shortly and returned with a bottle of whiskey and a bag of chips.

Now, they were just staring at the screens in front of them.

At around 11 pm, they heard something over the police scanner.

“Calling all units to 555 10th Avenue. Severe firefights reported on floors 55 and 56. I repeat. Calling all units to 555 10th Avenue. Severe firefights reported on floors 55 and 56.”

“Sounds like that’s the place to be!” Jessica said. She and David got into his car and quickly weaved to the traffic.

“So, what’s the plan?” David asked nervously.

“No idea,” Jessica replied. “Usually, I just wing it.”

David’s head whipped around to face her.

“What? We can’t do that here! The building’s going to be full of Fisk’s men and the police! Plus, it’s huge! They’ve probably blocked the elevators and the staircase is going to be swarming with people!”

“Eyes on the road!” Jessica pushed his head forwards again and sighed. “Look, I’m going to jump up the 56th floor, find Frank, take him back down with me, you’ll be there waiting with the car, and we’ll drive off.”

“What does that mean you’ll jump?” David asked.

“It means what I said,” Jessica replied. They were nearing 555 10th Avenue and she directed him into a small alleyway next to the building. The red and blue lights of the police cars were flashing around the corner, but where they were standing, it was difficult to spot their car.

Jessica got out and leant back down before she closed the door.

“Keep the engine running and be ready to go any time,” she instructed him. David nodded.

Jessica turned around, bent her knees and suddenly, she was gone.

David opened his eyes wide and leant forward to look up along the skyscraper from underneath the windshield, but it was impossible to see anything up there in the dark.

Jessica landed next to the pool on the terrace of the 56th floor and grimaced. The room behind the floor-length windows looked like a slaughterhouse. There was blood all over the white and silver surfaces, there were bullet holes in the walls and in the windows, and dead bodies everywhere. Jessica swayed for a second and closed her eyes. The place reminded her too much of the apartment in which she had found Kilgrave’s father.

“Main Street. Birch Street. Higgins Drive. Cobalt Lane,” she quietly recited to herself before opening her eyes again and stepping determinedly towards the terrace door. She yanked it open and was immediately met with the ferric smell of blood.

She scrunched her nose and slowly walked into the apartment.

“What’d you do that for, huh? Puttin’ out that kinda money on’er head? She was just a paralegal. Murdock was the one who did you in,” she heard a gruff voice talking over another man’s quiet moans.

“She deserved it,” the other voice replied spitefully and then screamed in pain. Jessica carefully walked around a wall in the center of the room and found herself faced with Fisk’s huge body on the floor, half-leaning against a wall, and the Punisher standing over him in a black jacket bearing a white skull and cargo pants. There was a huge wound on Fisk’s left shoulder, and Frank was pressing down on it with the barrel of a large gun he was holding in his left hand. He also had a hand gun in his right, and from the looks of it, he had already shot both of Fisk’s knees.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door and a muffled voice yelled “Police! Open the door! We’ve blocked all exits. Give up now!”

Frank paid them no attention and just pressed the gun deeper into Fisk’s wound, drawing a strangled sound from him.

“Why?” Frank repeated his question coldly.

Fisk looked up at him defiantly.

“She killed Wesley,” he yelled suddenly. “He was my friend and she killed him.”

Frank set his jaw.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure she had a good reason for it.”

He raised his right hand with the hand gun and aimed it at Fisk’s head. “Don’t worry, you’ll see your friend again real soon.”

“Oi,” Jessica yelled and Frank turned his head and the hand gun towards her sharply. His eyes were wild and there was blood all over his face. It was difficult to tell whether it was his or someone else’s.

Jessica raised her hands defensively.

“No need to shoot me, I’m here to help,” she said sternly, but Frank didn’t move.

Jessica sighed.

“You can put that thing away,” she said pointing at the gun Frank was still aiming at her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You going to stop me?” he asked with a rough voice.

Jessica nodded. “I’ll try,” she said warily.

Frank wrinkled his nose, and then he returned his handgun to its original aim and shot Fisk point-blank in the head. Jessica flinched.

“Too late,” Frank said as Fisk’s head fell forward on to his chest, his dead eyes staring straight ahead. Frank turned to her, his weapons lowered at his sides. “Take me in, shoot me, don’t care.”

Jessica openly rolled her eyes at him. She reached into the pocket of her leather jacket, pulled out her phone, and pulled up Karen’s photo.

“She���s not dead,” she said matter-of-factly. “A bit banged up from hitting her head on the floor after the bullet grazed her, but definitely not dead.”

Frank disbelievingly stared at the photo in her hand. In the background, Jessica could hear the police working on the door to the apartment.

“You’re lying,” Frank murmured. “‘s impossible. She’s dead. Got transferred to the morgue.”

“No, she wasn’t,” Jessica reiterated with a fake smile. “And those police men are going to come in any minute and shoot you. Are you coming with me or not?”

“Let’em come,” he mumbled to himself, turning away from her. “It’ll finally be over.”

Jessica raised an eyebrow, let out a big sigh, and punched him square in the face. She caught him before he fell to the floor, and kicked his weapons to opposite corners of the room when they fell from his hands. Then she lifted him over her shoulder and walked back out on to the terrace.

David startled when Jessica suddenly appeared next to the car again with a loud “thud”.

“Oh my God,” David moaned when he saw the state of him. “Is he –“

“No, just had to knock him out,” Jessica said impatiently. David let out a sigh of relief.

Jessica slid into the passenger seat and took a huge sip from a bottle of whiskey she’d swiped from the apartment. “Alright then, let’s go.”

Karen was sure she was going to go insane.

Her head was still pounding slightly, but with the painkillers, it wasn’t too bad. Her worry for Frank, however, was only growing with each passing minute. It didn’t help that there wasn’t actually anything to distract her from her thoughts in Jessica’s apartment; it was absolutely bare, safe for some empty whiskey bottles, a landline phone, and furniture. The only personal effects that Karen had were the clothes on her back – everything else had been taken by the police as evidence – and she wasn’t supposed to go near the windows, either.

By now, it was late evening already. Claire had left about six hours ago for her shift at Metro-General, and Karen was left alone with her thoughts.

When she’d woken up late this morning, it had taken her a few moments and some fillers from Jessica and Claire to help her remember what happened. As soon as she did, however, there was only one thought on her mind.

Frank.

If it had already been 24 hours since someone tried to kill her, and given that the attempt had happened in broad daylight and the police was acting as if it had been successful, it must have been all over the news already. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what Frank must be thinking, and how he’d react to the news. She wanted to call him right away, but without her phone, she had no means of contacting him. So she’d pleaded with Jessica to contact David, and Jessica had finally, grudgingly agreed. Unfortunately, talking to David had only confirmed her fears and now she was trying to stop herself from spiraling into worse and worse images of Frank’s current physical and emotional state.

A bit after midnight there was a noise at the door and Jessica walked in carrying Frank over her shoulder, David hot on her tail.

Karen pressed her hand against her mouth when she saw the state Frank was in. Jessica carried him into the bathroom and placed him in the tub.

“We’ve got to get all that blood off him. I’m not really sure what of it is his,” she said.

“Thank you,” Karen said earnestly, her eyes moist. Jessica paused shortly and nodded.

“I need a drink, what about you?” she asked David, who followed her back into the living room after he’d thrown one more look at Frank’s unconscious form.

Karen wetted a towel and carefully began to wipe the blood off Frank’s face. Luckily, most of it didn’t seem to be his, save for a few scratches and cuts. There were also a few bruises that were starting to turn a nasty color, but all in all, Frank seemed to be in a much better state than she’d seen him at times in in the past. His expression was peaceful, and Karen’s heart reached out of him at the thought of the pain he must have been in the last 36 hours.

When her gaze wandered to Frank’s chest, Karen paused and furrowed her brow underneath her bandage. She reached out with her hand and touched the flimsy jacket on which he had sprayed the skull. David had not been wrong earlier, Frank really had not planned on surviving the night. Suddenly, Karen got incredibly angry at Frank, and whacked on his vest-less chest with the palm of her hand. At that, Frank suddenly woke up with a strangled noise. He tried to sit up as he looked around disorientedly.

“Shhh, shh, Frank, it’s ok, you’re safe, I’m safe,” Karen tried to soothe him. Frank rapidly blinking eyes found hers, and he fell back ever so slightly. She reached out and intertwined one of his hands with hers.

“Wha’ happened?” he said grunted.

Karen kneaded his hand with hers.

“You almost got yourself killed because of me. Why aren’t you wearing your vest?” she asked a bit harsher than intended, but despite the relief of seeing him awake, she was still so very angry with him.

Frank looked down at himself with a frown and seemed to collect his thoughts. Then his head whipped up to her.

“You ‘ere dead,” he said with a rough voice, staring at her and still blinking in quick succession. “Shot in the head by some greedy son-of-a-bitch.” His gaze fell to their intertwined hands as if he were seeing them for the first time.

Karen dropped her forehead to his.

“No, I’m safe, I’m here,” she whispered and reached out with her other hand to caress the back of his head. She pressed a passionate kiss to his lips.

Frank closed his eyes and breathed heavily. When he opened them again, he looked utterly lost and scared.

“Thought I’d lost you,” he murmured and his hands cradled her face. “’was just done. Couldn’t do it again. Just couldn’t,” he said, imploring her to understand.

Karen’s eyes filled with tears. “I understand,” she said fervently and pressed a firm kiss to his forehead. “I do.”

When Frank was finally cleaned up and his wounds treated, Karen and he joined David and Jessica in the living room. Jessica was lounging on an old sofa while David was sitting in a dilapidated arm chair with his elbows on his knees and his forehead leant on his fists. Both looked up when Frank and Karen entered.

“Thanks for getting me outta there,” Frank said to Jessica, his voice still rough. She just saluted with two fingers and took another sip from the bottle of whiskey she was holding. Frank turned to David.

“Thanks,” he said. David just nodded.

Frank and Karen sat down on two foldable chairs that were standing around.

“What are you going to do now?” David asked. “Karen’s officially dead and you’re the most wanted man in town, again. I really don’t think Homeland will be happy about your little shooting spree, either, after they gave you the makings for a fresh start.”

Frank scowled. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ma gonna go away. Leave town, start over.”

“You going, too?” Jessica asked looking at Karen.

“Yes,” Karen said at the same time that Frank said “no.”

The two of them looked at each other.

“You’re not leaving me here. I’m going with you,” Karen said determinedly.

“I’m gonna be a man on the run. You really want that for your life? Bet ya that Mahoney can easily resurrect you from the dead. You can stay here, continue with your life,” Frank shot back.

“No. Not without you. I’m coming with you,” Karen insisted. Jessica rolled her eyes and dropped her head back against the sofa.

Frank was about to reply something when Karen cut him off.

“No, Frank. End of discussion. We’re in this together,” she said firmly.

Frank leant forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “Ok,” he conceded.

“Awesome, we’ve got a plan,” Jessica said with a fake smile. “How’re you going to get out of town, though? Your face is all over the news once more. Also, you’re gonna need money.”

“I can drive you out of state,” David suggested.

Frank shook his head. “Just across the river’s enough. Got a storage unit there. Has everything we’ll need,” he said.

Jessica raised her eyebrows. “Everything, huh?”

Frank just nodded but gave no further explanation.

“What about Karen’s stuff? Wouldn’t there be things you want to take with you?” David asked.

Before Karen could reply, Frank said “Yeah, we can drop by her place on the way there and get what’s important.”

Jessica sighed. “That’s too dangerous. The whole town’s looking for you. I’ll take her. We go in and out through the fire escape.”

Karen inclined her head.

“That’d be great,” she said.

A few seconds later, there was a knock on the door. “It’s me, open up,” sounded Brett’s voice.

Karen and Frank looked at each other. Jessica dragged herself to the door and pointed him towards the living room.

Brett stalked straight towards Frank and Karen, Karen’s purse in hand.

“This is what I get for saving her life? Another Punisher episode?” he said through gritted teeth.

Frank had the decency to look sheepish. Karen reached out to Brett.

“Brett, I’m so sorry, really. It was a huge misunderstanding. I’m so grateful that you kept me safe, really,” she said apologetically.

Brett angrily gripped the bunched-up purse in his hand.

“I guess I should have known what’d happen when you’d get shot. You made it very clear that he’d been looking out for you back in the incident in the hotel last November,” he said, still fuming.

“Look, man, I’m really sorry. You saved Karen’s life, I owe you for that. If you wanna take me in, I’m ok with that,” Frank said looking up at him. Karen’s head whipped around to him.

“No, Frank!” she hissed.

Brett pinched the bridge of his nose with two of his fingers.

“You made my precinct’s job a hell of a lot easier with your … activities the last two days. That’s why I’m giving you 12 hours to get out of this city before my guys are going to track you down.” Karen breathed a sigh of relief. “But if I ever see either of you again, or if I hear about you stepping outside of the law anywhere in this country I’m going to tell the FBI everything I know.”

Karen and Frank nodded.

“Thank you, Brett,” Karen said earnestly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Brett huffed and threw her purse at her. Then he turned around, curtly nodded at Jessica, and left.

Karen dug through her purse.

“I should probably destroy that,” she said as she pulled out her phone.

“Yep,” Jessica said. She took the phone from Karen’s and crushed it with her bare hand.

Karen raised her eyebrows.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Leave the purse in your apartment. When you go there, take only what you need. No toiletries and shit. It can’t look like you left,” Frank instructed her.

“Ok, let’s go then. We’ll be back in 20 minutes. You two can figure out where you’re going in the meantime,” Jessica said.

A few minutes later, Karen couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Jessica had wrapped an arm around Karen’s middle and was jumping with her from roof to roof until they finally reached Karen’s building. They climbed down the fire escape into Karen’s apartment.

“You got 3 minutes,” Jessica said as she looked around.

Karen dropped her hand bag in its usual spot and hastily walked into her bedroom. She stuffed a few essentials into a reusable shopping bag from a local supermarket – underwear, a set of pajamas, a pair of jeans, two t-shirts, two plain pullovers and a baseball cap. She then quickly shrugged out of her clothes that she’d been wearing for almost two days now, and put on jeans, t-shirt, a sports jacket, and sneakers. There weren’t many sentimental items she wanted to bring; there was that photo of her, Matt and Foggy, but it was an easy way to figure out who she was, so she left it behind. Kevin’s photo did go into the bag, though, but without the frame.

When she came back into the living area, Jessica was already waiting by the window. She was holding a bottle of whiskey that Karen was sure had previously been in her kitchen cupboard.

“Ready?” Jessica asked.

Karen nodded and let her gaze sweep around the apartment one last time.

“If you want any of the stuff in here, help yourself,” Karen said as she turned back to Jessica.

Jessica just nodded and gestured to the window. In a few steps, the two of them were back on the roof and on their way to Jessica’s place.

It was around 4.30 am when they arrived at a storage unit in New Jersey. When Frank opened the number lock, it revealed a grey SUV with tinted windows. Frank walked around the back of the vehicle, opened the trunk, and lifted a partition hidden underneath the carpet. It held four different bags.

“Cash, clothes, necessities, guns,” he listed as he pointed at them. He opened the first bag and it was filled to the rim with money.

David stared at it disbelievingly.

“How much is that?” he asked.

“Enough,” Frank just responded. He took a few bills out of the bag, handed some of them to Karen and stuffed the rest in his pockets. Then he zipped the bag back up and opened the third bag.

“Necessities, huh?” Karen laughed as she saw its contents. There were wigs, glasses, a bag with several IDs, along with some tooth brushes, tooth paste, deodorant, two towels, and several bottles of water. Frank flipped through the IDs and handed one to Karen, whose eyes grew wide as she stared at it. The driver’s license bore her picture but the name Anna Saley. She looked up to Frank, and her insides constricted with affection. She touched his upper arm.

“Looks like you’ve been planning this for a long time,” she said half-jokingly, half-seriously.

Frank didn’t look at her.

“Thought it might come in handy. Didn’t know what was gonna happen with Billy, and with you constantly calling out New York’s greatest scum…” he said as he pulled another license out of the bag for himself, took two bottles of water from the bag, and closed it again.

“You need a jacket?” he asked as his hand hovered over the second bag.

Karen shook her head.

“’k,” Frank said. “We also got blankets in the back seat.”

He still opened the bag, though, pulled out some clothes for himself, and quickly changed on the spot. Then he put the bloody clothes he’d been wearing into a trash bag he produced from somewhere underneath the duffels.

Finally, he opened the bag containing the guns. He took out a .380 and handed it to Karen, and then tugged another gun in the back of his trousers.

“Right,” he said as he closed the trunk. Both of them turned to David who was looking at them with an inscrutable expression, and then passed Karen a piece of paper with an e-mail address.

“Message that when you’re somewhere safe. Can’t be tracked,” he said. Karen nodded and put the paper in the back pocket of her pants. She hugged him tightly.

“Thank you for everything,” she said. David ran his hand across his nose and ducked his head. Then he turned to Frank.

The two of them looked at each other silently for a few beats before Frank pulled David into an embrace and patted his back several times.

“Thanks,” he said. David smiled sadly.

“You saved my family, I’m saving yours,” he said.

Six months later Karen and Frank were strolling over a Farmer’s market in a tiny town somewhere in Wyoming. They’d found a small house near a lake just outside the town, had bought it, and were now fixing it up. Frank was earning some money working as a handyman, while Karen had a job at the local library.

It was a beautiful day, still quite cold but the sun was out. They were buying some food for dinner and Frank was just paying for some carrots when Karen heard a soft bark.

She followed the sound a few stalls further down and was faced with several fenced areas containing different pets. A sign on one of the fences indicated that the animals were from a local shelter.

Suddenly, she saw them out of the corner of her eye. A grey pit bull and a golden retriever, about the same age, and probably no older than five months, were playing together in one of the kennels. She walked over to them and watched them with a smile.

“Hi there, I’m Tina. I work with the local animal shelter. Have our two buddies caught your eye?” A girl in her late teens appeared next to Karen.

“Yeah,” Karen breathed. “Are they up for adoption?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl replied. “We got them when Mr. Maitzen died last month. You know, he’d been breeding a lot of dogs, but most of them stuck to their own kind when they were brought in. But those two’ve been all over each other ever since they first arrived. If you are thinking about adopting, you should know that we advise that those two be adopted together.”

“Thanks,” Karen said, and the girl wandered off to a family looking at some bunnies.

She could feel Frank appearing at her right side, the bag of groceries in his right hand.

“Found something you like?” he asked with an amused voice.

Karen tilted her head to the side and looked at him from underneath her eyelashes with a mischievous smile.

“Tina over there says that the two are best buddies and really shouldn’t be separated,” she said.

Frank huffed. “Does she now?” he asked with a smirk on his lips.

Karen swayed a bit and touched his shoulder with hers.

“You know that look doesn’t work with me,” Frank replied while he was still looking at the two dogs playing in front of him.

Karen intertwined both of her hands with his left as she pressed her body against his and just looked at him from the side.

“Karen, two dogs is crazy. They’re like kids. Need attention all the time,” Frank said as he kept looking straight ahead.

Karen squeezed his hand.

“Please?” she asked quietly.

Frank huffed.

“Ok, fine.”

“I can’t believe no-one is planning a single memorial for Karen,” Trish said with an irked voice. “She’s done a lot for this city.”

“The Bulletin had a small gathering at their office for all the staff,” Jess replied as she was researching her latest target online.

“Yes, but there should have been something for the public. I understand that her family wants to bury her in Vermont but this city owes her big time. She deserved better,” Trish said heatedly as gestured with her tablet. Then she paused. “Maybe I should organize something,” she added.

Jess’ head snapped up. “What? No. You really shouldn’t invest any time in that,” she said.

“No, I actually feel like I really should do this. This is what’s wrong with this world. There are people out there who put their life on the line every day to find the truth and then we just ignore it when they suffer the consequences,” Trish argued. She tapped on her tablet. “We need to find a good location. I’m going to put this out on twitter, those 2.3 million followers must be useful for something.”

Jessica looked up to the ceiling and sat up.

“Trish, put that away,” she said forcefully. Trish looked up.

“Why? Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to come, I know better than that,” she said.

Jessica let out a long sigh and hung her head.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you,” she said, fixing Trish with a resigned look.

Trish frowned. “I promise. Why?”

Jessica took a deep breath.

“Karen is not dead. It was just a ruse to stop people coming after her cos Fisk had offered a reward of 2 million to anyone who killed her,” she said with an impassive voice. “She only got a graze in the shooting outside her office.”

“What? Where is she now?” Trish asked in confusion.

“She left New York with her … boyfriend, I guess. No idea where they are now,” Jessica replied.

Trish leant her head on one side.

“Why don’t you tell me everything from the start?”

About ten minutes later Jessica had told Trish the story from start to finish.

Trish raised her eyebrows.

“Well, I guess we should be happy for them? Though I’m not really sure how I feel about Frank Castle,” she offered.

Jessica shrugged, and Trish suddenly fixed her with an impenetrable gaze.

“Why’d you help them?” she asked. “This all sounds like straight from a movie. You hate that kind of sentimental stuff. Why’d you help them?”

Jessica didn’t look at her and didn’t say anything either, but Trish just waited patiently. Finally, Jessica caved and crossed her arms.

“She reminded me of you,” she said as she finally met Trish’s gaze.

“What, blonde and blue-eyed?” Trish asked, half-jokingly.

“A bit. But mostly just, you know. Obsessed with making a difference with her reporting, far too determined for her own good, sticks by the people she loves no matter how much they mess up,” she explained reluctantly.

Trish’s face softened and she wrapped Jessica into a firm hug.

“Yeah, sounds like a couple worth saving,” she said with a smile.

[orbemnews]

Oscars Telecast Sells Out Ads, Despite Expected Ratings Decline: Live Updates Here’s what you need to know: Preparations for the Academy Awards last year, when viewership was down 20 percent from 2019. It is expected to be even lower this year.Credit…Josh Haner/The New York Times ABC has sold out its advertising inventory for the pandemic-delayed Academy Awards on Sunday, with companies like Google, General Motors, Rolex and Verizon spending an estimated $2 million for each 30-second spot, according to media buyers — only a slight decline from last year’s pricing even though the television audience is expected to be sharply smaller. Rita Ferro, president of Disney Advertising Sales, which sells ads on Disney-owned ABC, announced the sellout. She declined to comment on pricing or say how much revenue Disney will generate from the telecast. Last year, the Oscars pulled in about $129 million across 56 ads, according to Kantar Media, a research firm. (A red-carpet preshow attracted $16.3 million across 42 ads.) Additional revenue comes from “integrations” and other sponsorships. For the first time, for instance, ABC will have a sponsor for closed-captioning (Google). The upshot: ABC’s revenue for the telecast is estimated to have declined only 3 to 5 percent from last year — a tiny drop compared with the expected 50 to 60 percent decline in viewing. The ceremony is “one of those big cultural moments,” Andrew McKechnie, Verizon’s chief creative officer, said of the company’s decision to buy ad space. “The broadcast this year will be a bit different,” he acknowledged, “but the event will still be an impactful one and an important one for us to show up in.” Last year, about 23.6 million people watched “Parasite” win the Academy Award for best picture, according to Nielsen data. That was a 20 percent drop from the previous year and a record low. On Sunday, nine million to 12 million people are expected to tune in. Audiences have been turning away from awards telecasts for years, but ratings have nose-dived during the pandemic. Without live audiences, the shows have been drained of their energy. Big studios have also postponed major movies, leaving this year’s awards scene to downbeat art films. ABC does not guarantee an audience size to Oscar advertisers, thus removing any potential for so-called make-goods — additional commercial time at a later date — if ratings tumble. ABC has been able to keep ad rates high in part because of the fragmentation of television viewing. Oscars night is a shadow of its former self — it attracted 57 million viewers in 1998 — but still pulls in one of the largest audiences on broadcast television, certainly for a nonsports telecast. New advertisers this year include Apartments.com and Freshpet dog and cat food. Expedia and Adidas have bought commercial time to introduce new campaigns. “We’re very pleased with where we are,” Ms. Ferro said, citing “the quantity, the caliber and the diversity of the advertisers in the show.” Volkswagen’s new electric ID.4. The company is investing $80 billion to develop E.V.s.Credit…Bryan Derballa for The New York Times As many as 100 new electric vehicle models are coming to showrooms by 2025 as automakers insist we’re “this close” to an E.V. tipping point. But outside of Tesla, the American record for sales of an electric vehicles is the mere 30,200 Leafs that Nissan sold in 2014. A single gasoline sport utility vehicle, the Toyota RAV4, finds well over 400,000 annual buyers, compared with roughly 250,000 sales last year for all E.V.s combined — 200,000 of which were Teslas, Lawrence Ulrich reports for The New York Times. Globally, Volkswagen is poised to pass Tesla as the world’s biggest electric vehicle seller as early as next year, according to Deutsche Bank, with Europe and China its key markets. In the United States, where the brand remains an underdog, VW and other legacy automakers are concentrating fire on the sales fortress of compact S.U.V.s. The latest electric-S.U.V. hopefuls to reach showrooms are the VW ID.4, Ford Mustang Mach-E and Volvo XC40 Recharge. The Nissan Ariya, BMW iX and Cadillac Lyriq are set to arrive between late 2021 and next March. Homes typically sold in 18 days in March, according to the National Association of Realtors.Credit…Ted Shaffrey/Associated Press The median sale price of an existing home in the United States was $329,100 in March, up 17.2 percent from a year earlier, when a 3 to 5 percent annual increase is considered healthy, according to a report from the National Association of Realtors, a trade group. Nationwide, housing inventory was at 1.07 million units at the end of March, just above its record low of 1.03 million the prior month and down 28.2 percent from a year earlier, according to the group. As a result, homes typically sold in 18 days, a record speed. Normally, 60 days is typical, Lawrence Yun, the group’s chief economist, told Stefanos Chen of The New York Times. When the housing market peaks will depend largely on where you live and how the pandemic continues to reorder buyer priorities, but it will hinge on two trends: rising mortgage rates and incredibly tight inventory in some markets, which will likely keep demand strong through the rest of 2021, even as price growth moderates, several analysts said. In Manhattan, where commercial real estate was battered and home buyers fanned outward to surrounding suburbs in search of affordability and more space, the sales market fell off at the beginning of the pandemic but appears to have turned the corner. “The rate at which homes are selling nationally is not sustainable, but in New York, the uptick is just getting started,” said Nancy Wu, an economist for StreetEasy, a listing website. In the week ending April 11, there were 783 new signed contracts citywide, the highest since the company began tracking weekly pending sales in 2019, when the peak was 491 contracts, she said. A bitcoin ATM in an Istanbul shopping mall. Many Turks have turned to cryptocurrencies as a hedge against inflation.Credit…Chris Mcgrath/Getty Images A cryptocurrency exchange in Turkey suspended operations this week amid accusations of fraud, freezing an estimated $2 billion in investors’ money, and authorities said they were seeking the company’s founder. Turkish authorities raided offices in Istanbul associated with Thodex, a cryptocurrency trading platform, on Friday morning and arrested more than 60 people, the private news agency Demiroren reported. Thodex’s 27-year-old founder, Faruk Fatih Ozer, left Turkey for Albania on Tuesday, Turkish authorities said, who added that they were seeking his extradition. The cryptocurrency firm has nearly 400,000 active users whose accounts were nominally worth a total of $2 billion, according to Oguz Evren Kilic, a lawyer in Ankara who is representing Thodex investors. If their money has gone missing, the losses would add another element of instability to Turkey’s already shaky economy. Living standards in Turkey suffer from double-digit inflation and a wobbly currency. Though cryptocurrencies are inherently risky, many Turks have turned to them as a way to protect their savings as the Turkish lira lost more than one-quarter of its value against the dollar in the last year. Last week, Turkey’s central bank banned the use of cryptocurrencies for purchases, citing the “significant risks” involved. Thodex had promoted itself with ads that featured female Turkish celebrities dressed in bright red outfits and draped over a highly polished black automobile. “For sure the economic situation has an affect on this,” Mr. Kilic, the lawyer, said in an interview. “In such times of crisis, people want to diminish the loss of value of the assets they have.” The sagging lira has raised the cost of imported goods and fueled inflation, leading to a steady erosion in living standards. In March, the annual rate of inflation was 16 percent, according to official figures, which many economists say understate the true rate. In a statement on Thodex’s website, Mr. Ozer, the firm’s founder, insisted he had left the country merely to consult with foreign investors and would return. He said the accusations were a “smear campaign” and blamed the shutdown of the trading platform on a cyberattack. Thodex “has not victimized anyone,” he said, adding that only about 30,000 accounts “have a suspicious situation.” Mr. Kilic noted that none of Thodex’s customers could gain access to their accounts. “If you cannot access the account, then you are a victim,” he said. On Twitter, people reacted to a statement from Thodex with crying face emojis. “There are people who trust and invest everything in you,” one user wrote. Source link Orbem News #ads #decline #expected #Live #Oscars #ratings #sells #Telecast #Updates

[justicesolutionsofamerica]

THE CORRELATION BETWEEN CRIMINAL OFFENDING AND TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURIES IN OFFENDERS IN THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF PRISONS

By Sean R. Francis, MS

President

Justice Solutions of America, Inc. 

The link between traumatic brain injuries ( TBI ) and criminal behavior can no longer be ignored or disputed. Inmates in America’s prisons who have suffered a TBI at some point in their life are overrepresented. Some studies have found that as many as 60 percent of inmates have suffered a TBI at some point in their lifetime. ( Nagele, Vaccaro, Schmidt., & Keating, 2018).

1. What are the implications of a link between traumatic brain injury and criminal behavior? The implications of a link between TBI’s and criminal behavior are that people who have no control over their behavior, due to suffering a severe head injury, will likely end up in the criminal justice system.  Should they go to prison it is unlikely they will get the medical or mental health care they need and will deteriorate and have no realistic chance of re-integrating into society when their sentence is complete. Lane, St. Pierre, Lauterbach, & Koliatsos, (2017). studied four individuals who ended up in the criminal justice system and had suffered TBI’s. The similarities between them was striking. Three of the subjects were in their mid to late 30’s and one subject was in his early 20’s. Three of the subjects had suffered TBI’s as a result of motor vehicle accidents. Two subjects suffered more than one TBI. (Lane, St. Pierre, Lauterbach, & Koliatsos, 2017). It appears that none of the subjects have ever been incarcerated prior to suffering a TBI. Yet, after suffering a TBI all of the subjects of this study acted in ways that they had not acted prior to suffering the injury. Specifically, all of these subjects acted out violently and aggressively towards hospital staff and family members. They verbally abused staff and family and assaulted them. One subject even started to set fires. Additionally, some subjects were sexually inappropriate with female staff members at the hospital that they were being treated at.  (Lane, St. Pierre, Lauterbach, & Koliatsos, 2017). These actions resulted in petitions being filed for involuntary hospitalization and interactions with law enforcement, including arrest. (Lane, St. Pierre, Lauterbach, & Koliatsos, 2017) Considering this research, the American criminal justice system must take a fresh look at the nexus between TBI’s and criminal behavior. If the research cited above is accurate, we have a true mental health, medical and moral crisis unfolding in our nation’s prisons. Currently, only a person who is “insane” at the time they committed their criminal offense may be found not responsible for the crime. Insanity is defined as not knowing the difference between right and wrong due to severe mental disease or defect and thus not having the mens rea or “guilty mind.” 18 U.S.C § 17 (a). However, what if the United States has a vast number of offenders who do realize the difference between right and wrong but have no volitional control due to suffering a TBI and cannot control their behavior? They certainly do not meet the legal definition of insanity…..but should they be held criminally responsible for their actions and locked away in prison? 

2. Is incarceration for individuals with TBI an effective method of rehabilitation? Make a concise but logical argument for or against incarceration of individuals who engage in criminal behaviors with a TBI? Incarceration is not an effective method of rehabilitation for individuals with TBI. To address this question, it must first be pointed out that rehabilitation in prisons is, for the most part nonexistent. The concept was widely abandoned in the mid 1970’s as crime exploded. This ushered in the era of long and unforgiving prison sentences. (app.org), (Phelps 2011). To the extent that rehabilitation in a correctional institution occurs, the vast majority of programing does not address the unique challenges that inmates with TBI’s will face. Programing focuses mostly on drug offenders and sexual offenders. All prison systems and even some county jails now have programing to assist these type of offenders with their issues. There is also some programing that focus on job skills such as HVAC and electrical training. In over ten years working inside prisons I have never seen programs that address the unique challenges offenders with TBI’s face. Often these inmates are lumped into the “mentally ill” category. Most prisons deal with this population through medication that will tranquilize them and, when needed, force. While there are prison hospitals in every system, state and federal, these facilities are designed to treat mental illness or physical ailments such as cancer, injury and heart disease. Rarely is TBI recognized for what it is inside of a prison. Rather, the inmate is labeled as “problematic” and dealt with accordingly. The medical staff in correctional institutions often lack the complex medical background to address TBI related issues. The cost of sending the offender for care outside the prison is huge. This is why it doesn’t happen. Often mental health staff is limited on a prison compound. Two psychologists for 1200 inmates is normal. These psychologists often lack the time or specialized training to deal with TBI related issues. Therefore, prison is absolutely not the right environment for an offender with TBI to be rehabilitated. Again, this is the moral dilemma. What do we as a society do with offenders who act out due to a brain injury that they have suffered and not consciously? 

An additional peer reviewed study that supports the link between traumatic brain injury and criminal behavior was “The Relationship Between Traumatic Brain Injury and Criminality in Juvenile Offenders” by Gordon, Spielman, Ketter & Therese ( 2017). The authors focused their study on adolescent offenders and found that over 72 percent of them had suffered a TBI. (Gordon, Spielman, Ketter & Therese  2017). Mood disorders were also more common among inmates that had suffered a TBI. The study also found that correctional institutions do not routinely screen inmates for TBI upon arrival to the institution. (Gordon, Spielman, Ketter & Therese  2017). Therefore, it is difficult, if not impossible to identify inmates who require special treatment due to their brain injury.

In  “Traumatic Brain Injury and Recidivism Among Returning Inmates by Ray & Richardson ( 2017). The authors confirm what other studies have found, TBI’s increase the chances that an offender will interact with the criminal justice system. All of the samples used for this study were males in their early 30’s in Indiana (Ray & Richardson 2017). One third of the sample had suffered a TBI at one point in their life. (Ray & Richardson  2017). The study found that screening for TBI was vital so that offenders could be placed into programs that provide them the proper structure and support they need to succeed. With proper screening I mates can actually be treated for their brain injury and be much less likely to come into contact with the criminal justice system. (Ray & Richardson  2017). In conclusion, the link between TBI’s and criminal offending is real and creates some real moral questions about the treatment of these offenders and whether they should be held fully responsible for their actions moving forward. Failure to properly treat these offenders will likely result in increased recidivism and crime.

REFERENCES Lane, K. S., St. Pierre, M. E., Lauterbach, M. D., & Koliatsos, V. E. (2017). Patient profiles of criminal behavior in the context of traumatic brain injury. Journal of Forensic Sciences, 62(2), 545–548. https://doi.org/10.1111/1556-4029.13289 Gordon, W. A., Spielman, L. A., Hahn-Ketter, A. E., & Sy, K. T. L. (2017). The relationship between traumatic brain injury and criminality in juvenile offenders. The Journal of Head Trauma Rehabilitation, 32(6), 393–403. https://doi.org/10.1097/HTR.0000000000000274 Nagele, D., Vaccaro, M., Schmidt, M. J., & Keating, D. (2018). Brain injury in an offender population: implications for reentry and community transition. Journal of Offender Rehabilitation, 57(8), 562–585. https://doi.org/10.1080/10509674.2018.1549178 Phelps M. S. (2011). Rehabilitation in the Punitive Era: The Gap between Rhetoric and Reality in U.S. Prison Programs. Law & society review, 45(1), 33–68. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1540-5893.2011.00427.xLinks to an external site. Ray B, Richardson NJ. Traumatic Brain Injury and Recidivism Among Returning Inmates. Criminal Justice and Behavior. 2017;44(3):472-486. doi:10.1177/0093854816686631 https://www.apa.org/monitor/julaug03/rehab https://www.prisonpolicy.org/reports/pie2020.html

[imshininglikefirewxrks]

Larry Fuss’s Statement on Hiring Mueller

Over the past several days, I have received many e-mails and phone calls regarding my decision to hire David Mueller at KIX-92.7.

Although I welcome rational, adult conversations, 99% of the calls and e-mails were vile, vulgar, profanity-laden and juvenile. It’s hard to take people seriously when their complaints are nothing but F-word laden tirades. We have also had death threats and bomb threats since this controversy began. Responsible adults do not behave in such a manner. I don’t know Taylor Swift myself, but I imagine she would be appalled if she knew her fans were behaving like this.

It also appears many of those calling and writing are not aware of the facts:

• David Mueller was not convicted of sexual assault. He was found guilty of simple “assault and battery” in a civil trial. Civil trials carry a far lower burden of proof than criminal trials, and since there was no evidence actually showing Mr. Mueller’s hand on Ms. Swift’s buttocks, it came down to one inconclusive photo and a “he said, she said” situation. A seemingly star-struck jury chose to believe Ms. Swift’s version of the story. I did not call her a liar, as some have alleged. However, as many others have observed, her account of the story simply did not add up.

• Mr. Mueller was ordered to pay Ms. Swift $1.00. He did. The allegations that he hasn’t done so are blatantly false.

• Mr. Mueller is not a registered sexual offender, as some have alleged. He was not convicted of any criminal charge. In fact, there were no criminal charges filed against him.

• Mr. Mueller is not a child-molester or rapist, as some have alleged. He was not charged, tried, or convicted of any sex crime.

• Mr. Mueller is not a convicted felon, as some have alleged. There was no felony charge, no criminal trial, and therefore no conviction.

• Mr. Mueller passed two polygraph tests prior to the trial. Although inadmissible in court, both tests indicated is version of the story was truthful.

• Mr. Muller did not change his name to conceal his identify, as some have alleged. For well over a decade, he has been known on-air as “Jackson,” including while working at KYGO in Denver. It is not uncommon for radio people to use pseudonyms. We jokingly referred to him as “Stonewall” (in reference to Confederate General Stonewall Jackson), but he has not and will not use that name on-air. He’s simply “Jackson”.”

• Several people have commented that Mr. Mueller has failed to express remorse for what he did. Since he steadfastly maintains his innocence, why would he be expected to express remorse?

• It is extremely difficult to find talented, experienced radio people who are willing to work in our area of Mississippi for what we can afford to pay them. Perhaps it is I who am taking advantage of Mr. Mueller’s situation by giving him a job at a station in a small-town in Mississippi and paying him far less than he was making in Denver. Time will tell.

Although I certainly don’t condone sexual predators, there is no hard evidence that Mr. Mueller is a “sexual predator.” He had never been accused of or charged with any such behavior prior to the Taylor Swift incident. I sat down and talked with him face-to-face on several occasions before I hired him, something none of the people who called or e-mailed have done. Yes I do have a wife, two daughters, 4 granddaughters as well as several nieces, so I know where many of you are coming from, but attempting to crucify the man for what was, even if he did do it, not on the same level as an actual sexual assault, is out of line. However, I get the impression many of you wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than the death penalty.

The negative comments came mostly from Taylor Swift fans. Those in the broadcast industry have been much more supportive, including this unsolicited comment from a prominent industry leader: “Good for you for giving a radio guy a second chance to rebuild his career. If any of us were fired for something questionable we may or may not have done and then never been given another chance, we all be selling shoes, cars or working in a factory or a grocery store. Forgiveness is giving him a second chance.” There’s also this message from a former listener in Denver: “Thank you for hiring him! I don’t know him but I live in Denver and I never believed for a minute he was lying. There are articles all over today about what you did and I, for one, think it is awesome. We cannot allow this to take this man’s livelihood away and I have felt for him since the day this came out. Thank you for being a critical thinker, thank you for not going with the status quo, thank you for making what I am sure is an unpopular decision.”

In the end, this is not a debate about sexual harassment. I do not condone sexual harassment, nor am I enabling it. I merely reached out to a talented radio guy who was unable to find employment and offered him a job. If that makes me a bad guy, I’m sorry. You can rest assured that Mr. Mueller will be fired immediately if any such incident occurs in the future. In the meantime, I will not be intimidated by threats from people, the vast majority of whom do not even live within the coverage area of my radio station.

To the person who started the harassment campaign on Facebook (you know who you are), I have reported you to Facebook and have also asked my attorney to pursue charges against you for inciting harassment as well as malicious interference in my company’s relationship with our advertisers. Yes, it’s a real thing. You could also be guilty of inciting violence if any of those who made threats against me and my family actually follow through on those threats. The death threats have been reported to the police and the bomb threats have been reported to the FBI.

Because I don’t have the time or the patience to engage in continuing debate on this matter, this is the only statement I will make. Any replies will not be answered and any negative posts will be deleted from our Facebook page. Plus, any future threats will be reported to the appropriate authorities. Mr. Mueller has paid the $1.00 he was ordered to pay by the court and moved on with his life. I suggest you do the same.

Larry Fuss

President/CEO

Delta Radio Network LLC

[a-t-h-e-e-n-a]

G-E-N-E-S-I-S

When I was younger, the first thing that my mom taught me was the meaning of my name and she taught me how to write it. G-E-N-E-S-I-S GENESIS. She said that my name symbolizes the beginning and new hope for everything, it made a little sense because I was the first child in our family and I only understood the first thing that she said about my name. Since that day, I got fascinated by the art of writing. I always write and scribble my whole name on every paper that I see around our house. T

hat was my first memory in the field of writing because, later on, I learned how to read and write the alphabet. Little by little I started to learn how to read actual words such as “apple, cat, ball, etc.” I grew up not realizing that writing has always been my fortress, solitude, and refuge. I have always been in love with writing even if my left hand hurt because of nonstop scribbling. I did not know that this hobby of mine will be considered as both a gift and a curse. It went from a hobby to addiction, from the basic words that my momma taught me to my actual discoveries by reading books. I learned and still am learning.

Later on, when I was in elementary my teachers always complained about how talkative I am, that in class I was always raising questions and how I consume almost the entire time asking my teachers questions about the discussion, and how it goes to the extent that the quietest kid in the class was assigned to sit beside me hoping that I would shut up but, only to find out that the quiet kid already became so chatty since he became my seatmate. Another thing that my teachers are complaining is about my penmanship not because it is ugly but, because it was always left side slant. 

They also noticed that I did not know how to properly write a paragraph. I did not know how to indent, and they always say that they are running out of breath whenever they read my works especially my essays since I lacked out of punctuation marks and I still am loquacious on my written pieces. I did not have original penmanship since the day that my grade three teachers told me that my penmanship looked ugly until I went in sixth grade.

I always envy my classmates who have had gorgeous penmanship, who are so great in solving math equations and I cannot deny the fact that I compared myself to them and started questioning my abilities. The worst part of it was when reality slapped my face and I realized, I am an outcast and I did not have real friends. Dramatic as it may seem but it was my reality, I experienced being bullied because I am not good at math, nevertheless, none of those comments stopped me from writing and doing what I love. T

hat is one of my reasons why I fell in love with writing even more because maybe people are not always by my side but writing always has been a part of my life and it is like what composes my being. And I guess one factor that affected me as a kid, who aspired me to continue writing and be good whatever happens is Taylor Swift. I adore her so much because I can relate to her music and her story. My elementary, high school, and even now in my college life have been filled with Taylor’s words, stories, and teachings. She is so pure and genuine and she always pours her heart on every song that she writes. She creates music so well as if music is already her plus, she also has the good character that I will forever and always look up to. Her story continues to teach me lessons and she is one of the reasons why I am not giving up on writing.

When I was in sixth grade my teacher was the one who noticed that I have a potential in writing. She once talked to me personally saying that my way of writing is already good it is just that, I have to further practice and enhance it. She also said that the only problems with my articles were, it lacked punctuation marks and some grammatical errors were needed to be fixed which I can still improve. I am glad though that she liked and encouraged me to continue writing. Since then I started to write more in my free time or should I say, I was and still make time for writing. 

 From those experiences, I gained new learning that I will be forever thankful for. My writing journey, of course, did not end there. From falling in love with writing on a sheet of paper, learning and improving my penmanship from pencil to a pen, figuring out how to use margins, indentions, and punctuation marks up to being able to make my work faster by the use of MS Word in computers. 

From writing about how my day went by on my diary, writing essays about how my summer vacation went, my favorite pet, and what was my most embarrassing moment to being able to purchase more books and read articles about Philosophy, and fiction novels, being required by my high school teachers to write something about the book we read and write something about the current issues in the Philippines, being able to write short stories, articles and the like- whatever captures my interest, being able to join writing contests, becoming a member of the school paper team, and the best part of it is from keeping my writings to myself to having real friends that are already like siblings who are one of my inspirations in writing, are always willing to read my drafts, appreciate my works- who are putting up their suggestions on how can I improve my written pieces since, they know that I love learning and hearing their thoughts about my writings.

Being addicted to writing is a tough passion and responsibility. Sometimes I want to write something but, I cannot because no inspiration or motivation is coming in my mind. It is also hard because as my perspective in writing became more open, I realized that I have not just to write for myself but also for other people. I need to use this passion of mine in the right manner where everyone will benefit and gain something good after reading my piece. 

I would like to say that this occurred to me long ago but since the news came about the CORONA Virus, I did not write anything, maybe because the Philippines was not yet really affected that time. It all sank into my system that something is wrong when the nationwide cancellation of classes happened, the work from home occurred worldwide, and a lot of people are finally raising their cries to the government because of lack of financial assistance, food, and shelter.

It broke my heart into pieces knowing that a lot of my co-Filipinos are starving, that the government officials are not even coming up with a single decision on how we could help the citizens of this nation, that some of the citizens who are fortunate enough are becoming hoarders of goods, and mostly those people who are using the social media platform and their freedom of speech in the wrong manner just to get temporary fame and attention but, are not dedicated into writing nor are concern about the real issue.

On the other note, I admire those people who are using social media as a medium to enlighten and raise their concerns or use it in the right manner, just like the Filipino author in the pen name of Bob Ong. His articles added a lot of fuel into the fire in me wanting to finally produce a certain piece that I can share with the people around me. Finally, it is time to listen to my mind, pour my heart into my writing and to finally make an output that, I hope can encourage other people to always choose what is right at this point in life where a pandemic and some of the government officials are being a pain in the ass.

I do not know when this COVID-19 ends but as my mom taught me, I finally understood why my name is Genesis. I know now that I am born because I have to raise my voice in the right manner, fight for what is right especially now that CORONA virus had brought up the true colors of our government. We should not stop encouraging people to always choose what is right and do good whatever happens. 

I may be one of those people who still aspire to become a successful writer whatever it takes and that my name does not yet have the spotlight on it, but as Taylor Swift said, “I still want to have a sharp pen, thin skin, and an open heart” that is fearless and dedicated enough in the sense that, I know writing may put me to death if a certain person hates me for it but, I will choose writing over and over again for I know that words are really powerful swords, and if I see something that I know generally is wrong and will affect the people, then I will surely pour my heart on my work whatever it takes because I believe and I need to be on the right side of history.

[doomedandstoned]

The Mighty Conan Speaks!

~By Calvin Lampert~

  Photos by Elizabeth Gore  

Earlier this year I had the honor of interviewing one of modern doom's spearheads, Britain’s almighty CONAN. After crushing my head for a solid hour, I sat down Jon and Chris and a ringing pair of ears to talk about their favorite songs to play live, the state of the scene, and bonding with your family through video games.

Man Is Myth (Early Demos) by Conan

So, how are you guys doing today?

Jon: Good. Thank you!

Chris: Good!

: How has the tour been so far for you?

Jon: Uh, progressively warmer. We’ve been all over the place, driving from one end of Europe to the other.

So this is something I commended you for: you've got this, dare I say, relatively “simple” approach to music, yet you manage to keep it interesting. How do you do it?

Jon: Well, we do change the band members in between albums. (laughs)   I don’t really think there is some magic to it. Some of it is skill, I’ll say. We do make a conscientious effort to write music that is different than what we did previously. We want our music to be complimentary, not just a copy. We see each other quite a lot, we sit together, and talk.

Chris: We all live in the same area. I’m pretty much always at Skyhammer [Jon and Chris’ renowned studio] since that’s where I work, and Jon lives there.

Jon: And, well Rich [Lewis, ex-drummer as of August 2017] lives in Cardiff, but we get together often.

Photo by Sally Townsend

Which makes me wonder, Jon, are you involved in any of the studio work?

Jon: No, not really.

Chris: Jon makes me a cup of coffee.

Okay, let’s talk lyrics. The title track off your last record was a bit different from the kind of “swordcery” stuff you usually do. A lot more negative in tone, less reliant on the fantasy themes. Is that something you wanna continue in the future?

Jon: Well, it’s actually still written in the same world as the rest of the songs and it’s not personal, we just wanted to flip the world around. Everything so far was about triumph and victory, and we felt like changing up things. Maybe we’ll continue with it in the future. It was enjoyable to write that song.

One more noticeable change with 'Revengeance' was how different the pacing was. Did you choose Rich deliberately since you were trying to write faster stuff, or did that happen naturally once he was in the band?

Jon: I don’t think we did deliberately.

And what is your favorite song to play live?

Jon: Well at the moment I guess me and Chris will both agree on "Thunderhoof." It was such a fun song to write too, it’s essentially a hymn to our old touring van and the lyrics pretty much describe us driving to a show and playing on stage. You know, mounting the horse's back, battle hammer in hand.

Man, I loved "Thunderhoof." It was probably my favorite song off 'Revengeance.' Can you tell me a bit about DOS, your new side project?

Jon:Well, we recorded one full length demo. The idea behind DOS is to create music that is more stripped down than Conan.

Oh, so it is a drone record?

Jon: Yeah. Conan could’ve gone in one of two directions and it obviously went into the one it is right now, but the energy I had back then could’ve also been channeled into something slower like drone. I was happy with the direction that Conan was going, but I still had the urge to try out the slow stuff. I got together with Kurokuma’s drummer, Joe E. Allen, in the studio to write really simple, heavy songs.

I initially assumed that DOS, based on the name and logo, would be some kind of dungeon synth thing, but Joe was fast to correct me on that. It still leaves curious about the story behind the name and logo, though.

Jon: Well, I’m not 100% sure yet if I will include them, but the lyrics and themes of DOS obviously center around videogames and all that. MS DOS, you know.

One of my friends really wanted to know more about your gear. What kind of strings and tuning do you use?

Jon: We tune to dropped F and the guitar tuning is F, C, F, A#, D, G. Bass is F, C, F, A#. On the guitar I use a D'Addario .8 bottom string and then the next five string are the first five strongs of a set of GHS Boomers, I think some special edition -- the Axl Rose set (laughs) -- and I use them on my Gibson Les Paul. I got the Les Paul in a deal when I swapped an amplifier. Then we took it on tour and I fell in love with it. I said, "This sounds really nice."

You’ve turned into quite a businessman over the years with Black Bow, Skyhammer, Atlantean Merch and Conan. At what point did you realize that you could make a living from music?

Jon: Well, I definitely couldn’t make a living just out of Conan. Conan is more of a hobby now, I would say, but with everything added together we get by fine. I gave up on a well-paid job so I could play music. Of course, some wanker will say I gave up a well-paid job so I could play music. I’m really happy I made that choice, because it means I also get to spend more time with my family and kids. I think you should diversify in your life.

Photo by Sally Townsend

And how do you keep yourself level-headed? There must be so much stuff going on with the label, Conan and Skyhammer.

Jon: Oh, I am definitely not levelheaded! Everybody will tell you that I am the most impulsive, annoying person around. I have more ideas than I have shits in a week, and not many of them come to fruition. There was a time not so long ago when I said to Chris: “You know what, I wanna become a mastering engineer.” And within 24 hours I decided to scrap that plan. I would’ve been the worst master engineer ever, and I got tinnitus.

Suppose that’s inevitable when you play that kind of music. Speaking of which, besides metal and all, what else do you listen to?

Jon: Well, all sorts, pop, acoustic stuff.

Chris: I do enjoy some folk and jazz on the side.

I wanted to get back to the lyrics again. Is there any franchise, game, movie, book whatever that you’d love to write a song about in the future?

Jon: Oh, there’s tons of games. Shinobi. Ghosts n’ Goblins. Strider for the Sega Megadrive. There’s millions of games that I could work with.

Chris: RoadRash.

Oh, that would be glorious!

Jon: (laughs) And of course Sonic the Hedgehog. We haven’t really done anything on Altered Beast yet, so that one’s probably going to happen.

Ah, wasn’t that the name you used to play a secret show in Paris?

Jon: Yeah, exactly!

Photo by Sally Townsend

And so far, how many of your songs have been inspired by games?

Jon: Off the new album, Wrath Gauntlet definitely is, some lines in Throne of Fire. Altogether probably 15% of our music. We’re mostly inspired by the scenes in the games.

And what do you play?

Jon: Well, Skyrim all the time. My son and I, we text each other all the time: “Have you got that sword or done that quest?” It’s great to connect and have a part of my life that is on exact the same level as his. I really value that time. I got the new Gauntlet one the PS4, that one’s a lot of fun.

Calvin: That’s awesome! I’ve spent countless hours amassing unique weapons and armor in Skyrim, I’m a lootwhore myself. Alright, this question is a bit different, but I always get some great answers: If you were a demon, which five objects would one have to place in a pentagram to summon you?

Chris: Well for me, first of something related to motorbikes. Maybe throw a guitar in as well. I love me some bikes.

Jon: In direct contrast to that: a leper's hand, a book written by a dying man, the first and third toes from a liar.

Film by Billy Goate

So, what’s in store for Conan in the future? When can we expect a new record?

Jon: Early next year hopefully.

And where do you see Conan in five years?

Jon: Ideally, we will still tour, play cool show, write good music and hopefully still enjoy it, regardless whether the scene is still popular or not.

Which brings me to my next question: What’s your take on the state of the scene? Do you think the boom will continue?

Jon: I think it won’t last much longer for some bands. These bands get pushed upon people and they’re not that good. They think they’re cool, they think they fit into the genre, when in fact they do not. As soon as the trend moves on, so will these bands. There’s a lot of people that latch on due to the popularity of this sort of music, and it’s not just bands, it’s also managers and the likes, flying around like flies around a pile of shit; letting a lot of people down, messing with their futures. It’s annoying, and hopefully when this sort of music may still be popular but less trendy a lot of these people will go and do something else. We don’t really need them.

Photo by Sally Townsend

What are some smaller bands, maybe from your own regional scene that you think people should check out?

Chris: Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard from Wales. They're really good. I think that band, they're taking the blueprint sort of thing and putting a different spin on it. They've got good riffs, but the other thing they bring to it is the vocals -- they're really, really interesting. They're a really good band.

Jon: Boss Keloid is pretty cool, too. Slomatics, you probably know about them. You've got Drought, as well, with Conan's ex-bass player, Phil.

Chris: Iron Witch.

Jon: Biggus Riffus -- they're probably one of the heaviest band we've played with.

Chris: I feel bad for not being able to remember more right at this moment.

Jon: One More Victim. I like to call it cakedown instead of breakdown, because it is so heavy. And so many more bands that I cannot think of right now. Tons of great stuff you can find through the web nowadays.

Photo by Sally Townsend

I love me some Boss Keloid and Slomatics. Alright, one last question, a cheesy one. If you were to ride into battle, what would be your weapon of choice, and which beast would you mount?

Jon: I would ride into battle on a pogo-stick made of mammoth spines. And my weapon of choice would be a razor-sharp spiders net which I would use to penetrate people through the face.

Chris: I would probably surf in on the back of an eagle, and the eagle is on fire, and I would use a massive sword that is forged from the heart of a volcano, since I wanna keep it simple.

Sounds like a very effective way to strike terror in the hearts of your enemies.

Chris: I probably would have to wear some sort of fire-proof clothing.

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[ramblesofadreamerofthestars]

Anne With An E

S03e07 “A Strong Effort of the Spirit of Good”

- Anne my love, your heart is in the right place but this won’t end well

- My heart breaks for Josie. No one deserves this and her parents can choke on their bullshit

- Prissy what an icon! I’m so happy to see her grow and mature. Knowledge is power and I’m so happy she went to university, returning confident and sure of her measure. Truly the only redeeming member of the Andrews family (we were rooting for you Jane)

- jdkckskck A n n e. Lashing out at Gilbert while understandable isn’t exactly fair, but I assume it’s going to wake him up to taking an active stance on this issue

- ooooooooh Mrs. Rachael Lynde. The way this scene is shot truly adds to the mounting feeling of being talked over and ganged up on, and every single one of these sentient pile of bones needs to shut the fuck up and sit down. Truly the pinnacle of old white men stupidity, a fine example

- Derry! Look at them hand in hand. And discussing the book they both read is so cute. Poor Jerry though, obviously he wouldn’t pick up on all the subtlety in the classic, he’s only just learned to read English!

- “at least you’re a handsome creature, you have that in your favour” - I... Diana wtf? That’s so needlessly cruel. He’s so fucking smart and he looks so disappointed. This boy loves her So Much and I don’t know if she matches his affections

- oh look at that. The old white (misogynistic racist sexist piece of shits-) men are attempting to control the narrative. Shocking.

- side note, where is Ka’kwet? My beautiful daughter please let someone help her and all the rest of the children trapped in the hellscape of the residential schools

- “I reckon you’ve heard enough from men on this topic” Matthew Cuthbert once again proving he is one of the only males with any braincells

- speaking of, where is Bash I miss him. Where is Cole?!?

- w-what is she planning?? Honestly I can’t wait for my daughter to Fuck Shit Up. It’s time

- Moody I trusted you.

- Gilbert Blythe my Son I Love You. Defending your wife and what is right I’m so proud

- (but also... it’s amazing that he defended her and the shirbirt power grows but it still took a male saying it to convince people. And this still happens today and it’s fucking bullshit all of it)

- Moody you’re on thin fucking ice but Ruby and him and adorable and also Ruby I adore you

- Anne’s article is amazing and beautiful and I want to read the entire thing

- .... not liking where this is going with Diana and Jerry

- Prissy! Prissy I Love You! I’m going to scream, she’s so strong and capable and her family is holding her back

- Marilla’s on board with Anne’s plan, thank you For This

- Yes Anne! You have always been worthy of love. This conversation is So Good

- Yes! The Anne and Jerry sibling dynamic we have been denied for so long! He’s coming to her for romantic advice this is so cute. Even if the content is awful. I love Jerry so much he deserves the world

- ahhhhhhhhhhgbghhhhggg Not Great!!!

- Marilla and Matthew supporting their daughter, the gift that never stops giving

- Yes Josie! It’s a small fact of defiance but it’s There and I’m so proud of her

- oh Fuck you Billy. Yes Josie!!! I’m so proud!!!!!

- oh No. don’t do this, please not my daughters.

- this scene is fucking Heartbreaking

- this scene is Heartbreaking!! They both are making horrible mistakes and Diana throwing away the locket is devastating.

- How many times will I say it. Prissy is a goddess and I Love her

-heheheh. Shirbirt I love them So Much!!! I’m so excited for this both their development for and whatever Anne is planning

- Prissy is quickly becoming one of my favourite minor characters and I want to see more of her

- The youth are taking action and the future into their own hands, and isn’t that topical

- this demonstration is Everything. Josie is here! This is giving me Chills this message is so important. Also the minister literally trying to rip free speech from the hands of the youth, amazing. Gilbert ripping the suggestions? Amazing. Everything about this is just perfect

- Prissy and Josie talking... idk where that’s going but I like it

- Gilbert looking at Anne from across the room? Poetic cinema

- ahhhhhhh them on the porch is so Good. Not having anything to argue over, him bringing up the spelling bee. Askcjsbfj you Cannot tell me they weren’t about to kiss. Poor Gilbert he’s so Confused and poor Anne

- what the fuck. What the fuck are these dodgy pursues of shit doing. Stealing the printing press. Oh fuck, the cigar, it’s the ministers. Holy Shit the school is going to catch fire

Final Thoughts:

I really like the messages of this season, and I really like the growth and development of the characters. I can’t wait for Gilbert to realize that while Ms. Whitney Rose is a lovely person, she’s not Anne, not his lifemate and partner in every aspect of his life. Diana and Anne’s breakup is heartbreaking but I know that once that they get passed this and learn and grow, their bond will be stronger than ever before. I’m excited to see Diana’s point of view next episode, but I really hope she comes to understand that she was in the wrong and apologizes to Jerry for how she treated him, and her and Anne have an actual conversation about the issues brought up, and that they come to understand each other better. I don’t know what to expect from the next episode, but it will be interesting to see what the fallout for the monsters Burning Down The School has. Side note, I just tried to type ministers and spell check corrected it to monsters but I’m leaving that because honestly, They Are. Also, save Ka’kwet!! This is so important to me and I really hope they don’t gloss over the absolute horrors and Atrocities committed at the Residental Schools. But I trust Moira and the writers, and the casts brilliant acting as usual, and can’t wait for the next episode

[we-are-londons-finest]

Particular Tastes ~Closed with hailtheascendant~

He needed relief! RELIEF! This case was boring. The flat was boring. His bloody body’s insistent need for stimulation was driving him up the bloody wall!

And after promising Ms. Hudson that he wouldn’t dare pick up a syringe again, the consulting detective couldn’t fall back into old habits so soon. What was he to do? What could he possibly do!?

It was then, as he ruffled his hair in frustration, that his eyes met with a calling card that had been given to him a long time ago by the Detective Inspector.

“They will take good care of you in way you didn’t know you needed. Discrete. No worries about it getting out to the public. A bit expensive but I know you have a stash. If you ever want to get me a gift...”

Sherlock picks up the card, memorizing the information instantly before he tosses it into the fire place. In another heartbeat, he was sitting down in John’s chair (well, it was John’s chair), tapping away at his laptop within his Outlook screen.

“Desperate times...” the man reasoned poorly with himself.

To Whom it May Concern,

One of your clients have given you quite a big reputation. They believe that you can cater perfectly to anyone and even go beyond what they yearn for on the surface. I hope you can manage such a feat for me as I find myself lacking in stimulation in both a mental and physical challenge.

1) I do not tolerant ignorance nor willful naivety. Do not send any dim witted or under educated employee. I will send them back crying and possibly broken for the rest of their lives.

2) Beauty is of no importance. Gender does not matter. And unnecessary artificial maintenance is completely and utterly dull.

3) Intimacy goes beyond that of a cock entering an orifice. My need for depth on every level is high. Do not send someone who has no concept of sensuality. I will not pay for whore trash.

4) Time is everything. Money is of no consequence. In my current state, I ask for someone who can dedicate an entire week in service. At the very possibly two. If they make it the entire week, future sessions could possibly be shorter but definitely on a regular schedule. Give me the number. I’ll pay it but do not be mistaken.

I have a strong respect for the field in which your employees participate in. I know paying for your employee’s time, I do not own them. And I will treat them, as best I can, as I would any other person I come across.

5) I am difficult. I have higher standards than most of the general populace of sheep. Do not send someone who cannot stand on their own. If they cannot give as good as they get, they will not last an hour in the room with me.

6) Paperwork is dull. I’m sure there is some form that needs to be signed. Information surveys needed to be done. I assure you. I can deduce what I need perfectly fine from the moment the other walks through the door of my flat. And I’m sure your employee will have a near perfect idea of what I am presenting through this e-mail.

7) I also know that testing will need to be done. I prefer an encounter free of condoms and fear. I need skin on skin in the fullest. Given the high standard our mutual acquaintance has stated you seem to be at, I do believe you will be using the Mayo Clinic found in Hightown. It services the upper crust of society, so privacy is of the upmost importance there. Thorough. Clean. Quick.

After this e-mail has been sent, I will be making my way there and will fax over the results.

8) Text and e-mail are the only acceptable way to contact me. I will not answer calls.

9) If a face to face meeting in your offices for signatures is needed, I ask that everything be ready and all questions that need to be answered is done so through text or e-mail. I will only be there so you can see me, I can see you, and for me to sign the papers. Nothing more. Nothing less. Quick. Simple. Done.

10) And last but not least...an open mind. Flexibility in tastes. And drive to learn and live. All are mandatory of your employee. Do not send someone good at faking such traits. Again, I will leave them offended and snotting.

If you feel you can service me, my mobile can be found in my contact information below the signature.

- SH

With that, the detective closed the laptop and made his way to his bedroom. He needed to get dressed to have blood drawn and urinate in a cup, after all.

@hailtheascendant

[potter-scamander-black-imgines]

Something I Can’t See Part 01

Newt Scamander X Reader

Request: Nada

Warnings: Despair. Abuse. Taking advantage of. Repression.

(AN: Such a sad story. But hopefully it will be happier later and all will be cleared up.)

"No." You spoke, barely loud enough to be audible as you watched the wizards in front of Newt fire at your brother until he turned into black dust. "Credence...." Then you ran, picking up the skirt of your long torn dress to that direction until you fell to the ground in a fit of hysterical sobbing. "NOO! Oh gosh Credence no.. no...."

This cannot be happening... You thought,Just the other day we were in our room at Mary Lu's.... Handing out fliers... Then he started hanging around that- You made contact with Mt. Graves who gave you a pitiful look, but you continued your sobbing.

"Who is this?" The president questioned, clearly unaware of your looks but aware of lack of attention to anyone but your thoughts.

It was Tina who stepped forward, "This is Y/N Barebone, Credence's or the Obscurus' twin sister. She's been helping Newt and I-"

"So she is probably an Obscurial too?" Madame President questioned, not waiting for Newt nor Tina's reply before she approached you. "It's alright now. No one wants to harm you Ms. Barebone. There there."

You stopped crying as she patted your shoulder, still panting slightly though as you'd ran out of tears to cry so it had seemed while she waiting for you to look back up upon her, "We will not harm you." "You will not harm me?"

"No. Ms. Barebone, we want to help you." This caused a dark chuckle to escape your system as you took her hand and pushed it off.

"You will not harm me... You want to help me.. Well look how much you helped him!" You growled, causing the women to back away in fear, "You want to kill me, just say it Madame President.."

"Y/N we-"

"Confess it!" You hollered, easing yourself through the form of another laugh, "Obscurials can only destroy, is that it huh?!" You looked up, eyes stained with tears and your face had gone blanch, eyes still glossy with tears but still to spoke as if steam was coming out of your ears, "You have no saving grace for me, I'm damned. Just like my brother. There's nothing you can do. And you know what... Maybe I'd rather die on my own terms than by the kinds of you."

Hearing you say this, Newt switched from guilt to panic, knowing what was going through your head. He called out your name, hoping to distract you from speech but to no avail. He ran to Tina to get a plan.

"Y/N... Come with me... I can help."The man... Mr. Graves approached, ignoring your threatening stare, "They will harm you. You saw what they did to Credence..."

You looked at him, almost breaking, "Credence..."

"Yes..." He took the girl in his arms, hugging her tightly against him as she whimpered. "I know child. I know..."

"How can I trust you?" You cowered, tears staining your cheeks as you shook with rage, but Graves persisted.

"He was a friend." He sighed, "Your brother... I only wanted to help him and now... Oh Merlin." "What do we do?"

Seeing you distracted, Tina moved in, "We have to stop her."

Newt replied to Tina, "This will kill her."

"Then you have the best chance to save her."

"I was always the nicer one. The stronger one. I never turned, no matter how many lashings mother dealt me. Do you know how hard that is?" You whine as he took you into his arms once more, believing his fake tears, "Always smiling when the earth shatters around you... I wanted to help him but..."

"Y/N..." Newt called, he was barely behind you. You could feel his breath on your neck, "This isn't you love."

You growled darkly, only looking at him for a moment, "Ha. And what do you know of me? Truly. Stand aside Newt." You stressed cruelly, "I have no intentions of harming you."

"Y/N.." he persisted but all it did was set you off as you pushed him into Tina's arms with a single flick of your wrist. Soon enough spells were being casted at you but you caught them all, forming a protective barrier around yourself and Graves. You smiled darkly, pushing all the spells fired back to their owners, causing the majority to pass out. Lights flickered above you as you waved your hand.

"If I would've known that magic felt this good I never would have suppressed it." You chuckled, "I would have snapped Mary Lou's neck long ago."

"It is done, sweet girl." He sighed, rubbing your hair, " Now we must go."

"This isn't you." Tina called out, "Is this what your brother would have wanted? You going dark?"

In a flash you were in front of Tina. Your once Y/E/C eyes were a beady black as your hands trembled and blood flowed down your nose.

"Credence..... Credence!"

Wiping his hand above your head, you collapsed completely into Perceval's arms, him carrying you towards the exit, while Newt and Tina panicked.

"Credence is dead. And he'd want her to be happy. She'll be happy Ms. Goldstein, with me." Newt gaped at your as you were being pulled away from him. "She told you Newton." Graves looked at him once, throwing your arms around his shoulders, "Stand aside. This is not your war. And I don't want to harm you."

(A year Later)

"And you believe she's in Scotland?" Tina asked, "Not dead?"

Newt sighed, bringing the phone closer to his ear, "She had so much control, besides dark magic would be a better preservative to keep her body alive."

"Are you sure she's even reachable Newt? Grief changes people..." Tina stressed on the line, "Besides she's not exactly herself and you know how your last abstraction attempt left."

True... Newt thought, but try as he might he couldn't crush his hope, "Tina Credence saw her." Newt settled for instead, "She's joined some sort of club with dark witches . She's learning dark magic which strengthens the Obscurius' grip on her. They want to use her as a hit man. We cannot allow that..."

"Newt I know you love her but-"

"I can't allow that-" He replied, mostly to Tina but also to himself. He was so relieved but also so panicked.

This is what happened to Leta... he didn't want this to you. Hearing Tina sigh on the other line and telling him that she'd see him down there, he aparated immediately back to the small building that he and Credence and had shared as a meeting spot before entering the case for the night. He'd found Credence before he'd even left New York and instantly took him in without question. He knew though closer to Tina, he would want to get out and the two didn't wish to trouble her or her sister. So the two traveled in the suitcase around looking for their dear Y/N but didn't notice her until this year, a year after she went missing. And now they'd finally found her.

"Credence." He sighed, stepping into the case as the boy looked up from the blue creature in his hand, "How did she look? Well? Is she in danger? Is-"

"I... I don't know..." The boy confessed, putting the snake like creature in its nest before going to his friend and teacher. "It was such a brief glance... she was being ushered away... she looks... different. But it's defiantly her..."

Newt smiled at him, joy filling his bones. "Where?"

"Heading to.. To... To a bakery with some girl.... Pale... Black hair..." It couldn't be, could it? "But she... she was so pale, sickly looking, and that girl brought up Graves... Or Gellet, so you.. you say he actually is..."

"She will be okay." He smiled gently at Credence, “She has to be

Panting and screaming as you sat up in your bed, you began to cry, your head searing with pain from both the nightmare and your arm being ripped apart. Clouds of smoke from the panic clouding your vision. Graves was quick to come into your room, wand and water bowl in hand. Slowly, he lifted your sleeves, examining the cuts before he began to heal them. "Calm down now Y/N... Nothing is going to harm you."

"I'm so sorry Mr. Graves." You sobbed, as if still scared you'd get a beating, though you hadn't received one in a year, "I didn't mean to wake you."

"My sweet child I wanted you to, remember me telling you so? Now lie down." Obeying, Graves took your hands, squeezing them tightly, "Tell me now, what was it about tonight?"

You shook your head, "It's always the same one.. The death. The destruction. Suffering-"

"But something must have been different... Your cuts were deeper..." He stopped, seeing your panic and corrected himself, "I apologize for seeming rash. I merely wanted to help."

You nodded," I know.. I'm sorry Mr. Graves.. I didn't mean to upset you. In my dream... There was a muggle, the Goldstein sisters, my brother, and that man..."

"Scamander?" Graves questioned, knowing your minds strange infatuation with the man, "Child don't you remember what he did to you and your brother?"

You nodded slightly, saddened by the memory, "I know it just.... it doesn't make sense. Why would he and his friends help me only to stab me in the back later?" Graves sighed, shifting in the bed, rubbing the knuckles on the girls hands before bringing it up to his lips as he thought.

"Perhaps.... Perhaps it is time..."

"Mr. Graves?" You panicked, pulling your hands away as your breath picked up. "Mr. Graves you are scaring me."

"Hush now." He came towards her slowly, "You know I won't harm you... But I have this friend... A friend who can help you..."

Shaking your head as you panicked ,"Have I not been performing well enough? I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'll work harder I'll do better I'll-"

"Hey.. hey! Hey now.."He quieted you, wrapping his arms around you as you shook in panic, "It's time... Sweet child... It's time you meet your guardian."

"Please Mr. Graves..." The girl sobbed, "He is a distant uncle whom I've never met. He doesn't know me like you do, or Leta or- Please..."

He hummed slightly. "Child... you are ready. I have made ready. Now, sleep. Leta will escort you in the morning." Seeing as this didn't console her, he hugged her, kissing her head. "It's going to be alright. It's all going to be okay."

Where am I? You thought, This isn't Gellet's home?

“Y/N, are you awake?” You blinked, trying to adjust your vision, “You are safe, Y/N.”

That voice... No... It can’t be...

“It is me, Mr. Scamander.”

Panic filled my body and I tried to pretend to be asleep again, though knowing it was to late. “Go away.”

“Y/N..” Another voice called, causing her to break, “Y/N it-it’s all-”

“Credence?”