#i fucking hate the royals and any stupid person in power that pulls stupid shit like this

[sugarcherriess]

i mean i get a day off work but come on 😭😭 nothing is open i just want my mcdonald’s i couldn’t care less about it it’s been on tv all day

I think that healthcare institutes and food places should remain open so as to not complicate anything for the general public but maybe thats just me and im crazy

#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Adonis Speaks #i fucking hate the royals and any stupid person in power that pulls stupid shit like this #how will closing food chains and hospitals aid with the mourning? #the royal family: the queen (who lived this long because of medical care) has died so no medical care or food for anyone else bye #fucking asswipes

[0aurelion-sol0]

SNK keeps on being amazing. ( A rant that is not really one. )

133.

Just this panel alone is able to confirm everything that I wanted from this manga.

Eren's condition has always been what I suspected.

Ever since he sided with his brother Zeke, who manipulated Marley in attacking Eldia to retrieve the founder and other titans. Something THEY DIDN'T WANT TO DO, because they were being pressured by many other countries and were not as powerful as before due to their lack of powerful weapons like the ones in the Middle Eastern Alliance which were able to PIERCE through the fucking Armored Titan.

THIS resulted in the fucking festival and we know what happened then. Dozens of people died including children continuing the cycle of hate that has been started for god knows how long. And Eren WILLINGLY took a part in it because he wanted his actions to be a little easier while he was going to genocide the whole fucking world.

INCLUDING his own island because let's be honest when Eren is done with the Rumbling, destroying every ecosystems. EVERYTHING that keeps a planet alive, his little island won't live for long.

"The ground... It's crying." CHAPTER 131 said by one of the goddamn kids he fucking killed.

Marley is now sure, let's fucking kill all Eldians.

He did his attack on Liberio, he betrayed everyone. Crushing Hange's every possibilities of finding a peaceful way of settling things down after having been hidden MANY useful informations by Eren, Zeke and his group but also the Azumabitos.

Sparking a civil war inside Eldia, leading to an Eldian supremacist group cause let's be honest when Floch killed that Marleyan and than gave his little first king Fritz speech, it was like seeing Hitler all over again and the Klux Klux Klan.

I MEAN... FLOCH OF ALL PEOPLE! A guy who has PTSD after seing dozens of his comrades died, their faces exploded by fucking thrown rocks. He bastardized Erwin's ideologies and no matter how good willing he was, he was just a dead man walking acting like a fool.

He also betrays his own party now, the Jeagerist by allowing the very people they tried to stop the power to stop him. By activating the Rumbling, he also caused the death of Eldians inside the walls as we've been shown with Hitch.

AND THE WORST... destroy every connection he has with his friends. Hurting them, putting them in danger by the very group he created and the Titans.

Oh but that's not all...

He uses the titan the same way Marley did it, with oppression and violence. He is not stopping the cycle of hate, he is continuing it. And it will have repercussions inside the very group of people he tried to defend.

People killed each other inside the walls and they will kill each other without it. Mikasa as shown us that when her parents got murdered and she almost became a slave.

And he killed Hange with these same titans. I don't care if they sacrificed themself. He didn't live up to what he preached. They died and Hange was someone close to him and was concerned with his well being. Maybe it was too late but they also had many other priorities as Hange was commander. They also fell into depression because of their position. One of his mentors and friends, one who tried to talk with him while he was in that cell planning to destroy the world...

talking to himself...

At this point, you know where I'm going with this. We've all suspected it, we all know it. Let's not be blind about it.

Eren is influenced by the Attack Titan. Not Ymir (at least I hope so and I think so), not Kruger and certainly not Grisha.

It's pretty clear now.

I mean Eren's change happens off screen, every time we see him he is completely different from what we used to know of him.

He barely cares about his friend and don't give me the bullcrap of (hE dOeS tHiS fOr tHeM.) If he was he would have secured them and put them in a place where they wouldn't interfere, he would have tried to convince them. HE WOULD HAVE COMMANDED FLOCH NOT TO HURT THEM.

He would have not commited genocide after knowing what it led to with Reiner, Annie and Bertholt.

That's not Eren. And the stupid argument of "hE's aLwAyS bEeN vIoLeNt". That's just bullcrap and it just destroy every bit of beautiful empathy we have seen of him. With Mikasa, Armin and Historia. Levi who he respected a lot.

It just isn't coherent. Every action he does is not coherent since the timeskip.

NOW HE'S CHALLENGING HIS FRIEND ? WTF ?

I mean is no one questionning this, doesn't it seem off from what we've seen of him.

Eren is no strategist BUT... he isn't stupid. Every sane person would know that these actions will not benefit anybody.

But... they still happened.

If we look back again, here is Eren being positive trying to put Armin in a good mood.

The outside world... endless possibilities. It's a man who wonders.

Yet, AT THE RIGHT MOMENT... he has a flashback of Faye. And his face just change.

Isn't it just weird ? Like at the right moment where he can have a positive outlook on thing. NOPE.

And this has been going and going and going...

Here:

Chapter 130.

Eren arrives in Liberio what does he see.

A flashback of his mother's death

I mean it's pretty clear now.

_________________________________________

Eren has been influenced and convinced by the Attack Titan that there's no way out. He's been reliving past memories of his and others, past memories that were traumatic. It put him in a state of depression and dread through 5 FUCKING YEARS. On top of that, he is able to see the future and what he saw will happen and has happened hence his reaction to Sasha's death.

A fucking mental breakdown.

Jesus Christ, I don't know if I've ever cursed that much in my life.

It's impossible to stop what is going to happen, because what is going to happen, needs to happen.

But as we know Sasha is in the afterlife with Erwin, Hange and the others. And we have been confirmed that this is the afterlife. So we have time-travelling, afterlife, 13 years curse, people who can turn into titans, parallel dimensions and Eren who can see through birds.

But the fandom said, no, the prospect of him being manipulated by the Attack Titan is impossible even after knowing it has special abilities.

I MEAN...

Umm... This has happened before. And I saw no one complain.

So why this ?

Is impossible ?

Especially when Eren's whole arc is about questionning his perspective of the world and becoming in control of his violence and rage. Having an agency. HELLOOOO!!!????

What better way of having the main threat of that being the very thing that causes all of his problems and his powers.

Doesn't this remind anyone of anything ?

Yep. The Uprising Arc. And who ? Historia, the girl whose all life, she couldn't act as herself or have any real agency.

Yes, you know the girl whose pregnant and decided to live the rest of her life Little House On The Prairie style. ( I mean I don't think it's her but... that's what it's looking right now. )

And who is a descendent of Ymir Fritz. With too much uncanney similarities between the two.

They could have said the Founder, Eren Jeager or something else but no they said... "It's the Attack Titan."

And it's not Ymir, if she was the one to control Eren. Why wouldn't she free herself on her own if she's able to do that ?

And in 131, she was clearly in a position where she was questionning her choice.

And perhaps she probably tried to stop Eren but the Attack Titan took over him and her. Using her powers as she is the founder.

And now just like Eren, she has no eyes. She is still a slave. Why ? I thought Eren freed her. So ? This is the only logical explanation right now.

I mean when is the last time we saw Eren.

He was sleeping inside his titan in 131. Having a dream about seeing his "sight" of freedom as a kid. And also potentially watching things with birds.

It's just weird. If he was fully in control, the characters wouldn't have questionned it and none of this weird shit would be happening.

He clearly doesn't have a free will.

This requires too much energy and Eren is a normal Eldian, not one of Royal Blood. Being both in Paths, watching this " sight ", communicating, watching with birds, moving his titan which is enormous and the thousands of colossal titans is clearly hard and too dangerous for only one person to do.

Isayama has fooled us all and me in the process.

All this time, it was that goddamn thing pulling the strings. And with the help of Isayama since he is the goddamn author of this series

In chapter 88, we learn the true meaning of Shingeki No Kyojin.

The beauty of the japanese language, as confusing as it is, can be translated by Attack On Titan, at least for us american and western audiences.

( yes because as someone pointed out in the comments, it's a mistranslation but since I don't understand how to give credit by linking because I don't understand how it works, i can't credit. So you can find the person in the comments. DO NOT JUDGE ME, tumblr is not the best place to post sometimes. )

But it's not the Attack on Titan anymore.

It's the Attack Titan.

( piece of shit is it's surname. )

#shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titan #eren jeager #snk eren #aot spoiler #snk spoilers #aot eren #the attack titan #I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK #THIS IS WHAT I CHOOSE TO BELIEVE #EUREKA #snk 133 #aot 133 #snk chapter 133 #ymir the first #ymir fritz

[emerald-chaos]

Insomnia

*gif not made by me, credit goes to the owner*

Hi Everyone! So it's been probably like...10 years since I wrote my last fic lol. Watching TFATWS has rekindled my undying love for Bucky Barnes and I just couldn't help but start writing again. I had to get my feelings out! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've been considering writing some more parts...so tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! I appreciate any and all constructive feedback or just feedback in general! Much love.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2533 (lowkey popped off...oops)

Warnings: Just in case...vague allusions to a dark past, struggles with mental illness, explicit language, and some suggestive conversation. Oh and some really bad jokes lol. Fluffy and angsty.

No matter how much you tossed and turned, how many sheep you counted, or how much you prayed and pleaded to any higher power that would listen – the release of sleep just wasn’t going to happen. You’re not sure why you were surprised, it’s not like this was the first time. You let out a heavy sigh and toss off the covers. This has been a nightly occurrence for as long as you can remember. When you were trying to rest, when there was no noise to block out the images in your head, it was a battle. A battle which you have always lost.

You flip on the bright florescent lights of the bathroom as you trudge in, dragging your feet in exhaustion. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harshness of the light as you place your hands onto the countertop. The cool marble feels good against your palms as you close your eyes and lean your head back, another sigh leaving your lips. You twist your neck from side to side, trying to release some tension and maybe get a satisfying pop. No such luck. As you open your eyes and gaze upon the person staring back at you a small laugh tumbles from your chest.

Jesus, she looks awful.

The dark circles that permanently reside below your eyes appear more pronounced than usual. The corners of your mouth hang low and you just look…tired. Like you were rode hard and put away wet.

The bottle of melatonin tucked away on your counter catches your eye. You pick it up and twirl it as you inspect the writing. “Sleep Support” you read, “may help promote restful sleep”. What a load of shit. You place the bottle back down and inspect the orange one next to it. The pills inside were about as useful as the melatonin. Nothing seemed to quiet the voices or stop the scenarios that plagued your mind. You splash some cold water on your face and grab for a towel to pat it dry. Your eyes drift to the mirror again, as if though the water was going to wash away the dead look in your eyes.

Yeah, fat chance.

Before you know it, your legs are carrying you through the compound. The only sounds present are the whirring of various appliances and the soft patter of your feet against the tile floors. The moonlight casts shadows over the various pieces of furniture and lights your path. Your fingers curl around the handle as you pull the sliding glass door open. The crisp outside air kisses your skin as you step out and close the door behind you. You find yourself settling down in your usual spot on the balcony and you sink into the comfort of the chair.

Many a sleepless night has been spent out here, admiring the way the moonlight gleams off of a nearby pond. Before the compound and the balcony, it was a fire escape and a bottle of bourbon. You kind of missed that coping mechanism a little bit. You were thankful, of course, to call this place your home. Thankful to feel safe for once. Thankful to be a part of a team that felt like more of a family than any sorry piece of shit who had been in your life before. Not that you were bitter about that or anything. A little baggage builds character. However, life hasn’t always been kind to you and your stupid brain had a cruel way of constantly reminding you of that fact.

In all honesty, Tony rescued you. You absolutely hated to allow him to relish in that fact, but it was true. He took a chance on a royally fucked up kid out of college who managed to skate by and earn a mechanical engineering degree. If you were to ask him, he would say it was because the first words you said to him were fuck off. Apparently, something about that translated to, “hey, I would be a great addition to your tech and development team”. Although, you were pretty sure you just really meant that he should fuck off. I mean, the guy’s reputation does have a bit of moral gray area to it. Somehow, some way, your tenacity made an impression on the billionaire. Now here you were - living at the Avenger’s compound, sitting on a balcony at 3:30 in the morning because you couldn’t turn your brain off long enough to find some peace and sleep. What a life.

Even as you were sitting here in your special spot, reminiscing about some actual good memories – your brain still tried to drift into the darkness. Glass breaking; voices, thick with hate, engaged in a screaming match, and the cold nights spent trying to find a safe space to eat and lay your head. Your fingers gripped into the arms of the chair as you felt the heaviness in your chest increase.

“God damn it,” you cursed through gritted teeth.

The panic attacks were a second nature at this point, but you still really hated when you lost control. Your eyes closed tight as you tried to rack your brain to remember the bullshit your therapist had told you earlier in the week. Something about 5 things you can see?

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doll”

The voice ripped you from inside your mind and back to reality. Your eyes opened and were met with a beautiful pair of cerulean ones. You blamed the skip in your heartbeat on your fading panic attack - although, you knew better than that.

“Well, it seems to me that the only logical conclusion is that you’re stalking me, Barnes” you quipped as a grin spread across your face.

“Could say the same about you,” Bucky retorted as he sank into the chair beside you, “besides, been doin’ this a lot longer than you’ve been around”.

You rolled your eyes, but the super soldier had a point. Almost each and every time, aside from the ones that happened when the team was away, you two would meet like this – here on the balcony, both searching for something to replace the sleep that neither of you could find.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re old” a laugh fell from your lips as Bucky snorted at your remark, a grin remaining ever present on his lips.

The familiar silence took over as he leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. Meanwhile, yours were hungrily taking him in - tracing over the stubble on his chin, the soft pinkness of his parted lips. Recently he’d gotten his hair cut and even though you much preferred the long hair, you would rather die than actually admit that to him. Your crush on the 106 year old grumpy ass was one of your best kept secrets. At least, you thought you’d kept it from being painfully obvious.

The man sitting before you, he had a tough exterior and a horrific history, but you knew him better than that. You knew about the way his nose scrunched up when you made him laugh and the way his eyes looked as he listened intently to every story you ever told him. You knew the sweet melody of his laugh and the far off stare that meant he was also held captive by his own thoughts. This late-night rendezvous had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite part of the day.

The first time it was a short nod and typical white person, thin-lipped smile as you left to find a different spot to suffer alone. Shortly after, it developed into cohabiting the balcony – staying on your own separate sides of course, only occasionally sharing words. Then, before you knew it, the two of you would be sitting beside each other, shooting the shit like you’d known each other for years. Just two, incredibly fucked up individuals, trying to make each other feel a little more human.

Bucky had always given off the quiet, brooding energy. Typically he kept to himself, other than with close friends like Steve, choosing to stand in the corner and listen to the conversation rather than be a part of it. Occasionally he would give a quip during a meeting that would catch people off guard, but mostly he just sat there and stared. The Bucky you had come to know was nothing like the person that others wanted to make him out to be. Sure, at one point he was a masterful assassin who killed like he got pleasure from it – but that wasn’t him. The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were not synonymous.

If only the world could meet Bucky at 3am.

“What’s going on in that empty head of yours over there?” Bucky’s voice once again brought you back to reality as you laid your eyes on the familiar grin plastered across his face.

“Please,” you huffed, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink at the thought of him catching you staring, “which one of us has a college degree again?”

His laugh was a symphony to your ears. Your smile mirrored his when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“So, what is it tonight? That nightmare again?” he asked, voice dropping an octave as his facial features softened in a way you really hoped only you got to see.

“Mm, not quite” you responded, your voice a broken whisper.

Bucky wasn’t the type to pry, but with you he wouldn’t even have to. Talking to him, sharing your deepest secrets and fears, telling him about the nightmares that kept you awake at night – it all came easily. Too easily.

“This week it’s...it’s that image of my stupid mother. Standing there with her black eyes and busted lip, telling me that it was me that was the problem. That it was me who...” you swallowed hard, the heaviness creeping back into your chest and tears fighting to wet your eyes. God you hated that you let this get the best of you.

Just as your mind started to bring you back to that dark place it was interrupted by the feeling of warmth spreading over your body. You looked down to see Bucky’s large hand resting right above your knee. When your eyes met again, he gave you a soft look that made your heart scream.

“I’m sorry,” you could tell he meant it as he gave your knee a soft squeeze.

A small smile flashed over your face and you had to resist the urge to reach out and cup his soft, stubbled cheek in your hand.

“Hey, we’re all a little fucked up, right?” you joked.

“Some more than others,” he replied, those beautiful wrinkles appearing around his nose as he scrunched it up with another laugh.

“Thanks, Buck... I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything other than listening to my sob story,” you reluctantly broke eye contact and looked down at the hem of your shirt as you fiddled with it in your fingers.

You were all too aware at the loss of contact as Bucky drew his hand back and leaned back into his chair.

“Doll,” he started as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again - you could swear you almost saw a grin on his lips, “there are very few things I’d rather do than sit with you on the balcony at 3am”.

At that moment it felt as though time stood still. Sure, you had flirtatious banter back and forth occasionally and made a habit out of spilling your deepest regrets to each other during the wee hours of the morning, but this felt different. This felt like a confession.

You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to convince yourself, or anyone else for that matter, that you didn’t have a thing for him. I mean - who wouldn’t? The guy was a gentleman; he was soft spoken and caring, he was a dork who loved to crack jokes at the most inappropriate times, the type of person who would give you the shirt off of his own back if it meant you were taken care of.

He....well, he was Bucky.

And god damn it if you didn’t love him.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but one minute you’re sitting on your chair, chewing your lip and droning on about the man in front of you in your head. The next minute you found yourself on his lap, knees seated on either side of his waist as your legs straddle him and your hands connect with the skin they so desperately craved to feel. Bucky’s eyes opened slowly and met yours as you let the pad of your thumb gently run along the curve of his bottom lip. The uneven breaths leaving your chest hitched as you felt his hands grip your hips softly. Refusing to break eye contact, Bucky gently pressed a kiss to the pad of your thumb. You dragged his lower lip down briefly.

“Well,” he began. His voice was barely above a whisper but it’s thick, lustful tone made you shiver from head to...well, you know, “are you gonna kiss me, Doll? Or do I have to do all the work myself?”

He barely finished his sentence before your lips captured his. It was messy, almost all teeth and tongue. It was needy, as if it was the last time either of you would ever kiss anyone again. It was fucking incredible.

Bucky’s metal arm snaked up your back and found its way into your hair, curling his fingers gently around the strands at the back of your head, as his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his form. He was intoxicating. This whole situation was something you had briefly imagined months ago, but ultimately pushed out of your mind. There was no way that he would ever be interested in someone like you. Yet, here he was, tongue fighting for entrance into your mouth.

You aren’t quite sure who pulled away first. Both of you were gasping for air, chests heaving up and down as you both stared into each other's lust-blown pupils.

“You kiss pretty well for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since 1940,” you teased, laughing as he rolls his eyes at the comment.

“You just don’t know when to shut that mouth of yours, do ya?” he practically growled, ever so slightly tightening his grip on your waist, and you almost lost it from just the sound of his voice alone.

“Why don’t you make me, Barnes?” you leaned in close, warm breath fanning over the shell of his ear.

A yelp escaped your throat as you were suddenly jerked up to a standing position, locking your ankles behind his back as he effortlessly held you up by your thighs.

“Oh Doll,” he chuckled darkly into your neck, almost making you pass out from the sensation, “I thought you’d never ask”.

#eeek #i hope you all like this #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan #James Buchanan Barnes #James Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst

[mcatra]

AU where Catra works at burger king

Catra works minimum wage at burger king, Adora comes in every day as the world’s worst customer.

AO3 

‘I am being HARASSED.’ Catra groans, sprawling on her side of the register. ‘I’m begging you, just kill me.’ 

It was another slow afternoon at Burger King, or as she likes to call it the absolute shithole she only got minimum wage for. Catra could be out there living her life as a youthful teenager, instead she was serving chicken nuggets to her worst enemy- Adora. It didn’t help that said blonde was currently sitting in the corner, laughing obnoxiously with her friends she had replaced her with. 

‘Aw I’m sure Adora isn’t here to harass you, she probably just likes our food! I do cook these to perfection you know.’ Scorpia says conversationally from her spot in the kitchen as she flame broils another patty.

Catra scoffs, her eyes trained on her most hated customer. 

‘There has to be some sort of law against coming to one’s workplace every day! No one likes Burger King that much! NOBODY!’ 

Suddenly she sees Adora sit up from her chair, that makes a horrific screeching noise on their unmopped floor. 

‘Oh god she’s coming.’ Catra whispers, trying to duck into the kitchen. ‘Scorpia! Hide me!’ 

Her friend shoves her back to the counter, as Adora approaches. ‘You’re the only one on this shift who is allowed to use the register-’

‘Do not make me serve her I swear to god-’

‘Hi Catra.’ Adora smiles, and Catra’s eyes narrow. 

‘Whatchu want, princess?’ She sneers, avoiding her piercing blue eyes that reminded her of still lakes. Or swirling oceans. Or the fluffy white cloud bath bombs from Lush. Wait, no.

‘Mmm, can I get a strawberry sundae?’ Adora chirps, looking above her at the menu. 

‘Can’t.’ Catra drawls, looking at her black painted nails. ‘The machine’s broken.’

Adora’s face falls in disappointment, and Catra cheers inwardly at her small victory until Scorpia’s voice cuts through their conversation.

‘That’s not true, the soft serve machine is fine.’ Her traitor friend says, pulling down on the lever and swirling a perfect sundae into the cup. She adds the syrup before handing it to Adora.

‘That’ll be $1.50.’

‘Thanks Scorpia.’ Adora smiles, rummaging through her purse to collect her coins.

Catra rolls her eyes. 

‘What a cheap ass. Little rich girl can only afford a dollar-fifty ice cream? No wonder we’re running out of business.’ 

Adora frowns at this. ‘Did you want a tip or something?’ 

‘What? FUCK no. I don’t take charity.’ Catra scoffs, snatching the coins from her old childhood-friend-to-enemies palm. She swiftly jabs in the total and throws the coins into the drawer. They’re forced into silence as the receipt slowly prints, and she tries to ignore the way Adora is staring at her. 

Suddenly Adora leans in close, and she can hear her murmur close to her ear.

‘I’ll see you at student council.’

Catra flushes at the proximity, every hair standing on end. Before she can stutter out an insult, Adora rips the receipt from the machine and is sauntering back to Bow and Glimmer. 

The brown haired girl deflates, her nails scratching on the old countertop. All that mental damage, for $1.50? Life was not fair. 

Adora always had the perfect grades, the perfect family and friends, the most cushy and royal upbringing. After their falling out involving a scholarship to a private school, they hadn’t spoken until the merger. 

It filled Catra with sick pleasure that the private school had lost their prestige to embezzled money, and now had to be government funded. However in consequence of this, they had decided to merge the public and private school so they could sell off the land to build skyrises or something. 

This meant Catra lost her position of School Captain to Adora after a fierce election, and had been demoted to Vice Captain. Not to mention no matter how hard Catra tried, she could never beat her in the school rankings. She couldn’t work to support herself and study 6 hours a day, like rich privileged Adora. 

So now here she was, forced to interact with the one person she could’ve gone her whole life without seeing on a daily basis. 

Ever since Adora had discovered Catra had been working at Burger King during a late night drive-thru run, her ex best friend had made it her life’s mission to make her life hell. 

Of course she had done her best to make the experience awful to drive her away. Catra knew Adora hated pickles, so she would threaten Kyle to slice up an entire pickle’s worth in the blonde’s Whopper before giving it to her with a sweet smile. She is filled with glee watching Adora picking them out one by one in disgust. 

This doesn’t stop Adora from coming though. Not even when they had made it into some sort of competition to see how many pickles could physically be crammed into a bun. Or even when she had put every single condiment including the salt and pepper into an unholy liquid concoction and served it in a cola cup. Not even when she gave Adora food poisoning when they got too carried away trying to stack as many patties as they could to recreate Sky Burger. 

No matter what she did, the girl never went away. Even though she had so easily disappeared from her life when she had needed her the most. But she didn’t need Adora, she had gotten this job herself, she had gotten a roof over her head with her own power. She had worked so hard to become independent from Shadow Weaver, and no matter what, Adora will not jeopardize it. 

--

‘I’m doing, what exactly?’ 

Catra stares dumbly at her manager, a sinking feeling dawning on her.  

‘Adora ordered a birthday party at Burger King.’ Lonnie drawls, ignoring the look of complete horror on Catra’s face.

‘No, you can’t do this to me! Roster me for any other day. I cannot psychologically take this.’ She begs. 

‘Sorry dude, the deposit has already been paid for. We’re short staffed, and it seems like Kyle has gotten fryer oil burns from your last burger experiment with Adora.’ Lonnie whaps Catra with the birthday catering pamphlet. 

‘Stupid Kyle.’ Catra hisses, clenching it in her fist. Curse this damn place that can only afford to hire teenagers. 

‘Anyway, just set up the tables and decorations after school on Thursday. Should be a good day for business, with Adora and her posse being rich kids and all.’

‘Can I at least get time and a half?’ 

‘Are you gonna be paying Kyle’s medical bill?’

Catra pouts. ‘Not my fault you guys don’t provide gloves. This place is an OSHA violation haven.’ 

WE do the PLANNING, YOU have the FUN! The bold font emblazoned over the small child’s smiling face mocks her from the pamphlet. Catra clenches it in her fist. 

‘Also why the fuck did she book a kid’s birthday party package when she is like 17, and not 6 years old?!’ 

Lonnie rolls her eyes. ‘Do you still want a job or not? Just read the rest of the form, counting on you to organize it.’ 

Catra squints at the crumpled paper in her hand. 

GOLD PARTY PACKAGE

-Themed birthday cards!

-Party bags!

-Birthday gift for the celebrant!

-Jumbo birthday cake!

-Pinata!

-Special birthday songs!

-Dedicated hostess!

Catra can feel her soul physically leave her body. This was gonna be a long week.

-

It was terrible.

Adora had handed these obnoxious Burger King birthday invitations to all her friends, so now she had all these RSVP’s to the worst birthday of all of human history. In between working shifts until midnight, dealing with Adora at student council and not eating, Catra was on edge. 

‘No, you can not write ‘Die Adora Die’ on her cake.’ Scorpia chides, slapping Catra’s hands away to pipe the icing. 

‘It’s what she deserves.’ Catra seethes. If she couldn’t eat it, she could at least ruin it, right? 

‘They’ll be here soon, so try to take that dying grimace off your face.’ Scorpia replies, and Catra rolls her eyes before adding the finishing touches to the cake. 

Suddenly the door opens, interrupting her decorating. The once quiet establishment was now full of loud chatter as their classmates piled in one by one. All of Adora’s old private school friends were here, all unironically celebrating their school captain’s children’s birthday party at the worst fast food restaurant in their state. 

She plasters her fakest customer service smile she can muster. Dignity at the door. 

‘Hi, you must be here for the Birthday Girl’s party.’ Catra says, approaching the group. Just treat it like you don’t know them.

‘Aw you don’t have to be so formal with us, Vice Captain.’ Glimmer teases, and Catra almost snaps from her facade. Almost.

‘Let me show you to your table.’ Catra grits out. 

She had chosen the ugliest poop brown balloons she could find, and had deliberately made the HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner lopsided on the wall.

‘Thanks Catra!’ Adora grins, bouncing past her to admire the decorations. 

Catra imagines Adora’s face on the pinata and smashing it into a million pieces. She forces herself to take a deep breath. It was just the one shift, and she really needed this job. Plus after the party was over, she could probably nab some leftovers for her trouble. 

All of the girls (plus Bow and Seahawk) sit around the table, and Catra marches over with the laminated menus. 

‘Ooh, we all get hats!’ Perfuma says, placing her Burger King cardboard crown on top of her head.

Frosta squints at the menu. ‘I’ve never eaten fast food before. Looks disgusting.’

‘I think it’s fine! Adora wanted to eat here.’ Glimmer says in a sugarly sweet tone that just came off as passive aggressive. ‘Even though I had suggested my penthouse by the ocean and we go here nearly every day.’

‘I much rather would be at the ocean beach house thank you very much.’ Mermista retorts, swatting Sea Hawk off her shoulder.

Yeah me too, Catra thinks bitterly. She stomps off with their orders, cursing them inwardly the entire way to the kitchen.

Adora’s friends start playing with the so-called ‘entertainment’ they had haphazardly set up. 

It was ridiculous, seeing grown teenagers lining up to try to smack the shit out of a glittery pinata. They squabble over who gets to hit it first, Catra feeling very much like a glorified babysitter to her most hated enemies. 

After a while, she sees Scorpia emerge from the kitchen. ‘Happy Birthday to you,’ Scorpia sings with Adora’s birthday cake in her arms. ‘Happy Birthday to you~’ 

The others join in on the song, Catra only mouthing the words in silent rebellion. The cake is emblazoned with a crude doodle of Adora’s face with HAPPY BIRTHDAY written on her enormous forehead. 

‘Oh my gosh, I love it!’ Adora’s sky blue eyes light up, and she’s practically sparkling. Catra huffs, she wasn’t supposed to like it. Didn’t she see the drawing was supposed to make fun of her five-head? 

Adora catches Catra’s eye, beaming. ‘Did you draw this for me?’ 

‘She did!’ Scorpia tattles, and her enemy’s smile increased tenfold. Catra can feel her cheeks grow warm. Dammit. 

‘Whatever.’ Catra bites out, unable to meet her gaze.  

Luckily no one else seemed to be paying attention to the weird atmosphere between them, as they were split between eyeing the cake and pinata wrestling. 

‘Get over here Sea Hawk, we can do the pinata later!’ Mermista chastises, watching Bow spin her blindfolded boyfriend. 

‘Let me just get one good hit in, and I’ll join you!’ He crows, swinging the bat in random directions as Bow ducks the blows, laughing. 

Just for anything to do, Catra takes it upon herself as hostess to snatch up the knife and start cutting. She cuts into the cake to start portioning out the slices, but as the knife touches the bottom Glimmer lets out a shriek. 

‘What?’ Catra deadpans.

‘If you cut to the bottom of the cake, you have to kiss the person closest to you!’ Glimmer says, a demonic look in her eye. Adora elbows her, embarrassed. 

‘Excuse me?’ Catra’s never heard of this tradition. Though to be fair, she had not been to many parties in her lifetime. 

‘Oh, that’s right!’ Perfuma claps her hands together. ‘Adora’s closest right? Go ahead Catra!’

To her horror, Glimmer starts pushing Catra towards the blonde. She digs her heels into the linoleum, only to find that she was sliding from the newly mopped floors. 

‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ The girls start chanting, like they were her friends and that she wasn’t their damn server.

‘What the hell- fuck no, let go of me!’ Catra finally snaps, wrenching herself from Glimmer’s grip. 

The momentum sends her stumbling into Sea Hawk, who was still attempting to hit the pinata. 

‘Ack!’ He squawks. 

The bat goes flying straight out his hand and into their double doors. There’s a huge crash, and everybody winces at the noise. 

The glass pane shatters, and so does Catra’s sanity. She was so fired. 

Sea Hawk lifts the blindfold. 

‘Did I get it?’ 

---

It was nearly closing time, and Catra was still sweeping up bits of glass from the floor. This had been one of the worst days of her life, and she had been beaten and homeless before. To make it worse, Adora was still grovelling when she should’ve gone hours ago like the rest of them. 

‘I am so sorry Catra, I’ll pay for everything, I’ll take full responsibility so you don’t get fired-’ 

‘Stop it.’ She was too tired to even argue with Adora like she usually did, wishing Adora would just go away already so she could grovel over the phone to her regional manager without an audience. Catra always pretended to hate her job, but she couldn’t afford to lose it. She could barely make rent with her Burger King wage. 

‘Please, let me help clean. It was my fault anyway.’

There was hardly any money left over to feed herself most days, that’s why she was skinny as a rake as opposed to the toned, buff, well fed Adora. She had only been functioning on a few nuggets that Scorpia snuck her yesterday. Did Catra still have those food coupons? How long until the bank charged overdraft fees? 

‘Catra are you listening-’ 

‘I said stop it!’ Catra snaps. 

Adora has the audacity to look stunned. 

‘Why do you insist on harassing me at work everyday? Is it fun? Forcing me to play servant to you rich girls, to sing and dance for you? You already beat me in everything at school, you’re already School Captain, you have all the money and a loving family you need, so can you stop rubbing your privilege in my face just for one second so I can THINK?’ 

‘I...I just…I’m sorry.’ Adora starts and aborts a few sentences. Catra can’t even stand to look at her face. 

‘This party at your work. It was the only way to get you to celebrate my birthday with me.’ 

‘.....’

‘Um, I-’

‘Whatever.’ Catra retorts, trying and failing to pick up the last shards with her too long fingernails. She hisses when the glass nicks her finger, cutting into skin. Drops of blood fall to the floor.

‘Are you okay?!’ Adora gasps, rushing to her side. Catra slaps her hand away, she needed to go find the cleaning supplies. Blood was a biohazard, there was some protocol for it but she was having trouble remembering. 

She goes to stand up, but the fatigue rushes to her head and her legs give in underneath her. Instead of smacking her head against the floor, she feels herself land on something soft instead. 

Adora hooks her around the waist, gently placing her into the booth. She grabs a napkin from the dispenser and wraps it around Catra’s hand. She can feel Adora’s warm hand squeezing her own. 

‘I’m just applying pressure to the cut.’ Adora says quietly. 

Catra just closes her eyes. It’s well past midnight and she should be locking up the store, but she can’t bring herself to move. 

#she-ra #she ra #spop #catradora #catra #adora #burger king au

[anika-ann]

Tall as the Skyline, Roots Like a Tree (S.R.)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     

Word Count: 11,150 (oh, oh no)

Summary: You are one step from officially becoming a SHILED agent. Involved in a secret relationship with Captain America, you feel like the world might lie at your fingertips. Until it doesn’t because of your stupid inexplicable phobia.

Steve’s friend might be able to help… except it would take an open mind and a huge leap of faith on your part.

You wonder… how much can one endure to get where they want?

A/N: for a challenge hosted by @tilltheendwilliwrite​​. Congratulation to your rightfully earned milestone! Your writings are a work of wonder and you deserve evry single one of those followers *✧･

Prompt: Phobias - What if your phobias are based off how you died in a past life.

Warnings: !! Some might be extremely upsetting I’m afraid:  - elements of horror, talk about phobias (dogs and needles), character death (past lives), use of lethal injection, mention of murder, canon-typical violence (brief), swearing… French and fluff 

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ 

For the briefest moment, you allowed yourself to smirk as the door to the lab slid open, shuffling along the bodies two unconscious guards.

You knew cockiness was an enemy, but you the security system yielded after less than a minute of work. Was that supposed to be… hard? You guessed that taking the class that called anything but Hacking 101 bore fruit after all.

Also, you could smirk all you wanted – that obnoxious facemask you wore as a security measure might be obnoxious, narrowing your field of vision, but hiding your expression was a sweet perk of it.

Your smile slipped upon seeing the lab, upon being reminded of how much you hated the environment. The three scientists and two more guards staring at you did not help.

The alarm started blaring instantly.

Before the guards near the door could draw their guns, you sprang forward, kicking one of them to his knee and elbowed his face, causing him to fall to one knee with an unmistakable ‘crack’ in the joint. You twisted his gun from his right hand, using him as a shield as the other one fired his weapon.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the scientists gather by the wall, opening a small vault and placing a container that was doubtlessly that container there. Shit.

The first guard fell to the ground and you quickly aimed at the other one’s arm. He yelled and grabbed at his wound as crimson painted his already dark sleeve black, but didn’t release the weapon. Grimacing, you fired again, this time with more success. The gun clanked as it fell on the ground and you strode towards your opponent rapidly, knocking him out with a well-aimed punch to his temple before he could use the knife he pulled out from his sheath.

You turned on your heels, only to see the scientists had hogged improvised weapons; two of them armed themselves with those round flasks and started throwing them at you. You quickly ducked, swearing out loud when one of them grazed your arm. Luckily, you could barely feel the sting of the shards, barely sparing the injury a glance, crouching behind a counter instead.

Firing without much aim, you managed to hit something behind them, sending them to the ground as they tried to avoid the spray of sparks flying from the machine.

The third one, the only one with grey hair, was the one who nearly stopped your heart when he grabbed a dark bottle of something. You gulped in fright; you definitely didn’t want to be hit by that, whatever was the content.

Focus. Breathe, you chastised yourself mentally, narrowing your eyes at the last man standing, the senior scientist readjusting his hold. The moment was enough for you.

Two shots rang in the lab, followed by the sound of shattering glass and a scream. You peeked from your hideout, seeing crimson staining the snow-white lab coat, while the man tried his best to discard his stained shoes – or what was left of them – without touching the chemical with his bare hands.

Checking on your surroundings, making sure everyone else was still down, you paced to the scientist, grabbing a metal platter on your way, unceremoniously striking him in his head. He dropped to the ground and your path clear at last.

The vault made you sweat a bit, approximately two minutes passing before you managed to crack it. But here you were, pulling your gloves on – and you carefully extracted the container with three vial.

This time, you allowed yourself to smile fully.

“Bingo,” you mumbled to yourself, satisfaction rumbling deep in your chest.

The Sigma virus. Friggin’ jackpot.

Wasting no more time with revelling in your victory, you headed to the exit, container in one hand, gun in the other, just to make sure.

The sudden vice-strong grip on your ankle took you by surprise.

You weren’t proud of it, but you nearly yelped at the sensation, instinctively jerking your foot to free yourself as your gaze shot towards the attacker.

All of sudden, the world spun, your heartbeat skyrocketing, loud pounding echoing in your ears.

It was only one of the younger men in a lab coat, easily to be ridded off, unlike a guard, except-- except-

You felt your knees wobble, your chest constricting so tightly that when you tried to breathe in, it hurt. The gun slipped from your hand as did the container at the sudden wave of faintness.

No, no, no, please no--

The tip of the long needle rested against your calf, thick enough to pierce through your tactical suit, the liquid in it crystal clear, glimmering in the fluorescent light-

Your stomach made a quick somersault, your ribcage aching, darkness swimming in front of you-- it embraced you almost peacefully, as did the feeling of a free fall and then… then you felt nothing.

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

A dull ache pondered at the back of your head, rush of blood in your temples, as you slowly realized you were lying on something soft – relatively soft –, dim lights dancing behind your closed eyelids. With each second passing, memories of what happened poked at your brain, causing you to groan.

Fucking shit, of course it would happen to you.

You passed out during your final exam – one that would officially saw you as a SHIELD agent. You royally fucked up.

Your heart raced, the headache only growing more intense with your anger rising. You were raging, in fact, the feeling bitter on your tongue, heavy in your stomach.

You had just ruined your shot at your dream job, because of a stupid fear of needles. There you were; a badass wannabe SHIELD agent, afraid of a harmless pointy object.

Just recalling the ugly thick thing brought nausea that told you the item was as far from harmless as you could imagine, but that wasn’t the point. The content of the syringe could be pure water for all you cared; you still fell apart like a house of cards under the slightest breeze, only seeing the needle too close to your body – and it meant that you failed.

Fuck needles. Fuck you.

“Hey, you with me?” a male voice asked, so gentle and careful it made you want to cry, startling you all the same, because him being here – wherever exactly ‘here’ was – was the last thing you expected.

“What are ya’ doin’ here?” you asked, throat unpleasantly dry, your tongue feeling like sandpaper, sticking to the roof of your mouth. In response, warm fingers closed around your bicep, shortly squeezing.

Your eyes snapped open, surprised by the touch; every minute ever since you had come clear about your mutual attraction, about your feelings for each other, you had tried to keep physical contact – or any contact at all – on minimum, at least in places where it could bring unwanted attention.

After all, Captain America had no business dating a to-be SHIELD agent. Better yet, the said to-be agent should not as much as try pursuing a relationship with Captain America.

But here you were, four months in, four months since your first date that left you with no doubt that you were quickly falling for the man behind the shield, exactly one person besides you and Steve knowing about it for they had eyes of the sharpest female spy known to the world.

And now Steve was here, by your bedside, touching you, no less-- well, not anymore. However, his concerned blue eyes fixed on your face still spoke volumes. One corner of his lips rose in a lopsided smile.

“Well, I’m checking on one of my best recruits. I was worried a bit,” Steve explained as if it was clear as day. Then, he sobered up a little. “No one is in the room. What they can’t see doesn’t hurt them… or us.”

You smiled at him weakly, shifting in the bed, testing the strength in your arms so you could sit up. It was embarrassing really – hell, it was maddening.

You couldn’t believe you had done that. You had passed fucking out. Because of your stupid phobia of needles. It had been in you since you could remember, ever-present. Most of the time, you could deal with it somehow, distracting yourself, making a deal with your hospital attendant to use peroral medication… or to simply made sure you were out of consciousness when needles couldn’t be avoided.

You weren’t a complete idiot; you knew it posed a problem, especially considering your career choices, but nothing seemed to work, any kind of therapy, not even exposure therapy. And you weren’t really into hypnosis, the idea of someone having power over your mind truly terrifying.

What drove you even crazier though was that you couldn’t recall why you should freak out at the sight of a needle alone in the first place. Your fear was absolutely laughable and you hated it from the bottom of your heart. However, that didn’t change the fact it was there, seeped deeply into your bones, just a glance at a damn needle causing your heart to hammer in your chest.

And seeing that-- that thing near you, the man’s finger ready to pump the whatever in you-

You trembled at the intense shiver that ran down your spine, goosebumps rising on your skin.

Steve’s voice snapped you from your trance, salvaging you from the spiral of self-depreciation and unpleasant memories.

“How do you feel?”

You almost wanted to scoff at the routine question, no matter how valid one it was.

“Tired. My ego is hurt. I’m mad at myself. Kinda glad you’re here,” you listed, answering honestly, unable to resist the pinch of sarcasm.

Steve smirked, yet his gaze remained kind.

“I’m kinda glad too… and hey, don’t be mad. You can’t help it. You did your best and from what I saw, you were absolutely amazing. I’m sure Cortez will still clear you for service.”

His optimism and support would be sweet hadn’t you been a realist.

“Steve, I literally passed out in the middle of a mission to retrieve vials with a dangerous virus. I’m pretty sure I dropped the container, actually,” you deadpanned, earning a grin. What was so funny?

“It didn’t break.” Okay, now you understood. But still. “You were about ten seconds from the end of the simulation. You might not pass with flying colours, but I have a firm belief that you will.”

You pondered for a second, staring at Steve’s expression; he was genuine in his effort to cheer you up, but also appeared perfectly serious on a professional level. He meant what he said. Against your will, a flicker of hope fluttered in your chest – and you could tell he noticed the change, the blue of his eyes diluted by a green twinkle of joy.

“If you say so…” you mumbled, now fully seated up, scooting so your back was resting against the headboard just in case your body betrayed you again.

“I say so. How about staying at my place tonight?”

You hesitated for a moment, weighting up your options; no matter the ray of hope he had provided, you had no doubt that your failure would come back to haunt you. Which meant that you would sulk at home, stuck with wanting to punch things, but being too exhausted to do so, because hello, passed out, and with crying yourself to sleep, possibly with a tub of ice-cream. Or you could do all that in Steve’s arms, which sounded more pleasant for sure, except it meant he might see a side of you he wasn’t ready for – and you weren’t ready to show him.

Steve’s eyes never left your face, hypnotizing, patiently waiting for you to think it through; but you did notice the minute fall of the corners of his lips when you hesitated a minute too long.

Oh no, you don’t.

“Sounds great,” you blurted out, a tired smile finding its way on your face as well, quickly turning brighter when Steve’s face lit up again. How could you even think about saying no? “Where can I find a doctor to tell them I’m completely fine and ready to sign discharge papers?”

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

An hour later, you were meeting Steve in the underground car park, relieved to find it empty except for your boyfriend. You slid to the front seat, softly returning his barely audible ‘hey’. The ride was silent, something heavy hanging in the air, something neither of you wanted to address; Steve was clutching the wheel tightly enough for his knuckles to turn white, but you didn’t find the courage to comment on it, wondering what that was about instead.

He had told you to meet him in the garage in an hour, saying that he only had one errand to run. It didn’t take you long to figure out what kind of an errant, however the idea of calling him out on his actions caused your stomach to twist unpleasantly.

You hadn’t talked until you were snuggled on the couch, mindlessly watching the TV – what was on again? – a steaming mug of tea in front of each of you.

“He’s not letting me pass, is he?”

Steve’s fingers stopped their periodic motion on the skin of your arm, his body tensing, his heart speeding up under your cheek just enough for you to notice as you had nestled your head on his chest.

The absence of immediate verbal answer was an answer on its own, his body language all you needed to catch on.

The pit in your stomach was now gaping open, a gnawing pain; a voice in your head whispered your dreams were in shambles. Tears burned in your eyes, but you kept them at bay.

“It’s okay. I wouldn’t deserve to pass anyway.”

Steve instantly straightened in his position, his palms sprawling on your arms to pull you up as well, leaning down a bit in attempt to catch your gaze. Vain effort, naturally.

“Hey now, that’s not fair. They used your biggest weakness against you. It was—it was a real low blow,“ Steve argued, squeezing your arms firmer, probably trying to reassure you and get you to look at him.

You had to swallow against the lump forming in your throat, your gaze flickering to meet his gaze only to avert it again, unable to bear it.

“Well, had it been a real mission, I’d be dead or captured, spilling the agency’s secrets. It’s only fair.”

You heard Steve gulp in the silence that followed – he couldn’t argue with what you said.

“They are gonna use it again if I retake. But I’ll be more prepared next time, knowing it’s coming. I’ll-“ you stopped in the middle of a sentence, shaking your head with a bitter chuckle. The words tasted almost disgusting as you knew you were bullshiting yourself completely.

You had tried to fight it, to get rid of it, to swallow your fear, to bury it so deep it would never crawl out again. You had tried so many times. But the phobia just wasn’t going away, that stubborn piece of shit-!

You hated it so much. You hated it, because it kept getting in your way to happiness. You had dreamed of being an agent since you were twelve, feeling it in your bones like a damn calling. It only intensified when you met Steve, the desire growing practically unbearable once you started dating.

This wasn’t only about your pride anymore. This was about him being proud of you. This was about you being worthy of being by his side. You would be no Avenger by any means, but you’d be a SHIELD agent.

The rational part of you argued that love wasn’t to be bought by titles; your gut was telling you that despite the relatively short time you and Steve were an item – a rather stealthy one, but still an item – Steve wouldn’t leave you just because you didn’t succeed. He would love you just the same had you been a SHIELD agent, a doctor, a librarian, an artist, a worker in retail, a mechanic, anything. He wouldn’t care.

However, another part of you suggested that people talked and you’d hate to have Steve deal with that shit. Not to even mention that eventually, it might lead to him leaving you nonetheless because of the constant pressure, his heart be damned. Captain America and a SHIELD agent simply had a better ring to it than Captain America and a failed SHIELD agent.

Goddamnit, you had to succeed, for both you and him, because he was the best damn man you had ever met and he loved you, if his words of two weeks prior and his behaviour were anything to go by. And you loved him too.

You couldn’t lose him and you couldn’t lose against something as ridiculous as a needle.

But how?

You groaned, pressing the heal of your palm to your temple, feeling your headache return. “I’ll deal with it. It’s a Tomorrow Me problem.”

Steve chuckled at your antics and pressed a light kiss to the top of your head, sweet and loving, one of his hands moving to cradle your cheek, causing your eyes to flutter close, a warm feeling of contentment sneakily replacing your agitation.

“And Tomorrow Me.”

At that, your eyes snapped open, blatantly staring at him.

Really? Tomorrow Him? What was he going to do? Out your relationship to Director Fury and start a battle for favouritism? No thank you.

You’d hate to be the woman who got somewhere because of her boyfriend’s connections. For one, it would be about as humiliating as passing out at the sight of a syringe. For second, it wouldn’t solve the problem of your phobia and – more importantly – the potential dangers it posed in the field.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Steve,” you hissed before you could think twice of it, before you could realize how absurd that thought was.

Steve would never do that; it went against what he believed in and he knew you’d never accept it.

Your jaw clenched when it hit you just how hurtful your words might have been, shame filling every fibre of your being, your gaze falling to your lap where your restless fingers fumbled together. You were acting like a little ungrateful piece of shit. Steve was only trying to help. He was only being here for you, declaring his support.

An apology already on your lips, his hand slipped under your chin, his thumb caressing your cheek before he applied the slightest pressure and raised your head to face him, his expression serious.

“This isn’t that,” he said, voice laced with severity. It caused your body feel as heavy as made of lead and yet unbearably weightless.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he added in a light joke then, his gaze locking with yours. “But I’d like to fight your battles with you. We’ll figure something out.”

He kept you in the beautiful prison of his eyes until you finally nodded, not voicing your doubts, not saying you were only convinced to a point.

You stretched out, catching the corner of his mouth with yours to express your gratitude and settled back into his chest with something dangerously resembling a smile tugging at your lips.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words no less true despite the battle raging inside of your head. Of that you were certain. Of your future, not so much.

“I love you too.”

Despite the few stray tears that soaked into his shirt several minutes later, these were the last words spoken before you drifted off to sleep.

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

Sensation of a free fall and an instinctive jerk of your foot snapped you from your restless sleep.

Your eyes opened to the darkness, a groan dying in your throat when you came to yourself enough to feel strong arms around you, ones belonging to a man you loved and whose sleep you sure as hell didn’t want to disturb. Less so since you were obviously lying in his bed where he had had to move you since you had fallen asleep on the couch.

You couldn’t remember what you dreamed of, but it must have been nothing pleasant.

However, Steve’s arms winding around you tighter, bringing you close to his warm bare chest definitely did count as pleasant and you hoped for an early return to the dreamland.

The lightest of kisses landed in the crook of your neck, whispers barely audible, mumbled to your skin.

“You alright?”

You grimaced, snuggling further into Steve’s form, your hand settling over his on your stomach.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you,” you said at the very same volume, wishing not to ruin the peace of the night any further.

“You didn’t.”

His reassurance eased your guilt only for a moment – only until you realized that what he said carried two different meanings.

You shifted in his arms, rolling over to look at him, finding his face without any trace of sleep… as if he never even tried to get a shut-eye in the first place. His eyes were like reflectors even in the dark of his bedroom, intense blue shining with something you couldn’t quite grasp. In only fed the guilt suddenly gnawing at your chest, for not only waking him up, but actually keeping him awake the whole time, his serum-boosted brain even more restless than yours.

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” you apologized sincerely, your hand leaving the warmth of the sheets to lay on his cheek.

He smiled at you softly, covering your hand with his palm, bringing yours to his lips to show you he didn’t blame you, no matter how clear it was that you were the reason for him losing sleep. The guilt stabbed you again, your momentarily fully frantic mind racing, your lips quick to peck his shoulder, his sternum, his chin in silent apology.

“I’ve been simply… thinking. That’s not on you, mon cœur.”

Despite yourself, you smiled against his skin; his ‘mon cœur’ never failed to make you smile and feel warm all over. You had learned about his decent French when one of the recruits snapped at him, calling him an asshole in his mother tongue, clearly not expecting a comeback; a smart one, not necessarily a rude one, but certainly a hot one.

Steve then let casually slip a word or two in conversations, calling you his heart as if his French alone wasn’t turning you putty in his hands, and you were a goner.

“Nice attempt at distracting me,” you praised him, nestling your chin on his chest to face him. “What’s on your mind, mon amour?”

He hesitated, watching you for long moments as if assessing whether he should tell you or keep you in your blissful ignorance. You hoped that he wouldn’t shut you out, especially if his thoughts concerned you.

“I’m thinking… about Wanda,” Steve whispered finally, causing your heart to jump in your chest in surprise, your body going rigid. His eyes widened at instant, a groan leaving his throat, rumbling under your chin. “That came out so wrong— don’t look at me like that, it’s always you-“

“Sure am,” you snorted silently, relieved and actually rather amused. For all his smooth lines, he could be just as awkward as your next guy.

He swatted your rear lightly to shut you up, wordlessly telling you to quit being a smartass.

“Sorry. Please, go ahead, talk about your gorgeous Avengers recruit,” you encouraged him, earning a glare. “She’s gorgeous, you can’t deny that. And if not that, she’s definitely at least cute. Anyway. Speak up. I’m listening, Steve. It must be serious if it’s keeping you awake.”

He licked his lips, his gaze rising to the ceiling, his thumb drawing a circle on your bare arm.

“When we were fighting Ultron – Tony’s genius murder robot –, before Wanda joined our side… there was this fight and she… entered our mind, sort-of. She… she trapped us in visions, showing us our deepest fears. She offered a glimpse at things we were trying to keep buried inside for no one to see. The fear of… not being enough, not belonging, fear of missed chances that would never come back.”

You listened, gulping at the mentions of visions, of his very own fear lying in the open, simultaneously dreading where he was going with talking about it. You had a good idea that it wouldn’t get any more pleasant.

You squeezed his arm softly to ground him, noticing his breath hitching, determined to hear him out nonetheless.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you crooned sympathetically, even if it could barely make him feel any better.

He still seemed to appreciate it, gently threading his fingers through your hair, taking a deep calming breath.

“I’m here. The thing is, she showed us something else too, something more… primal, I suppose? Carnal? Like… fear of spiders, dark, drowning, things like that…?”

You stiffened, sensing that now he was much closer to hitting home that you liked. But you supposed he was about to make a point, so you tried to keep your voice neutral despite your curiosity about what that specifically meant for him.

“Okay?”

“You can ask what she showed me.”

You shifted in his embrace, frowning as he glanced at you – slightly uncomfortable, but definitely sincere.

“What… what did you see?” you asked lowly, your hand sliding down his arm to interlace your fingers with his.

His heart sped up under your chin, his Adam’s apple bobbed, but he still told you.

“I was torn apart by wolves. Dogs maybe, I’m not sure. I just remember claws and sharp teeth-“

“Jesus,” you breathed out at the vivid image appearing in front of your eyes, squeezing his hand tighter.

At the same time, your mind raced as much as his heart did.

Was Steve afraid of dogs? That would be… strange. For one, there was a reason he was compared to a golden retriever at times, but the idea was even more surprising because you had seen him interact with dogs on occasion. He was… maybe not enthusiastic exactly, but alright.

Why would he be scared of them anyway? Was there a story? A childhood memory perhaps? You of all people should know that phobias often had been caused by a negative experience in childhood – it was one of the reasons you hated yours so much, because you couldn’t pinpoint the moment that had caused it.

But this wasn’t about you. Not yet anyway, you guessed.

You remained silent as Steve gathered his thoughts, his eyes misted as he lost himself in a memory.

“I’m still not great with them, but I… manage. Wanda was the one to help me achieve that.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a jealous bitch of a voice whined. You shushed it mentally, trying to follow his train of thought. The conclusion was ridiculously clear.

“You think she can help me too,” you stated the obvious, finding Steve fully in the present again, gazing at you intensely.

“Only if you want to try. You… you don’t know what your fear is based on exactly, right? No concrete memory?”

You shook your head automatically. “No clue. One of my past therapists thought that it was the reason why our sessions weren’t working, not even after repeated exposure. We never got to the bottom of it.”

Steve was still watching you with almost unnerving intensity. There was more to what he was suggesting, you could tell. You only didn’t know what – was it about the nature of Wanda’s powers?

You wouldn’t lie – the idea of someone intruding your mind scared the hell out of you, but here you were… growing desperate to get rid of the only thing holding you back.

“She might be able to help then. But… eh, hear me out before passing judgement, okay?”

That caused you to frown deeply – wasn’t it what you were doing?

“Okay?”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek, wavering again and you sighed, propping yourself on your elbow, staring down at him in utter confusion and with a healthy amount of expectancy.

“Some people believe that-- no, uhm- what Wanda did was that she made me see the very cause of my fear, the exact memory. And this might not be making any sense at first, but— I was seeing it from my perspective, it was definitely me… and my hand was— it was a black man’s hand.”

“…huh?”

Colour you fucking clueless.

What the hell was he talking about?

Steve grimaced helplessly, his explanation apparently not turning out the way he wanted to.

“Some people believe that our fears are based… on the way we died in our past life,” he finally admitted and you… froze.

Your eyes grew wide, your body tensing and for a brief second, you wondered if Steve had gone completely mad, because the look on his face was deadly serious.

Past life?

Seriously? Steve, of all people, the very rational guy desperate for factfulness, was talking about reincarnation?

What. The actual. Fuck.

Steve, the guy who had scientists pump his body with supersoldier serum – by needles, of all things, seriously, the procedure sounded downright terrifying and reading about it made you respect him even more –, a guy who survived being frozen thanks to science, was trying to convince you that past lives existed.

Your mind went entirely blank.

The worst thing about it was that he had a solid reason to believe this thing, that was if he was telling the truth and he had been able to lessen his fear. And if Steve believed something, then for the reasons you had listed to yourself, there must have been a damn good portion of truth in it.

It was just a lot to wrap your head around.

You cleared your throat, feeling Steve’s eyes burning a hole into your head as he awaited your reaction, possibly with dread, which was perfectly justified.

It sounded insane… but.

“So… let me get this straight. You think that the origin of my fear lies in… some past life of mine. A life which ended, because of a-- a needle?” you choked out, the words sounding even crazier when spoken out loud.

You shook your head, still processing the information when Steve confirmed it. “Well… yes.”

“Uh-huh.”

You lowered yourself back to the cushions, rolling over to your back, staring at the ceiling instead. You could feel Steve fidget next to you nervously, his eyes still on you.

“You think I’m crazy.”

The corner of your lips twitched, your chest rising and falling calmly, the sentence easing the pressure that built there during his explanation.

“Well, yeah, but I knew that before you told me all that, so-“

“Hey-!“

You slapped your hand over his as it neared you, pinning it to the mattress and casting a grin in his direction, a strange feeling of contentment spreading through your body.

Maybe you fear wasn’t your fault. Perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that you needed help. Hell, even the great Steve Rogers, the bravest man you knew, had sought assistance – and then he had won.

Knowing that felt so damn liberating.

Mostly because maybe, just maybe, you had a chance of overcoming this. Maybe you could still become a SHIELD agent.

You were lying here in the bed, side by side, hand in hand, head turn to side, gazes locked, and while you were smiling, Steve’s lips slowly spread in a hesitant smile as well.

God, you loved this man so much, more than words could express.

“Thank you for trusting me with this, Steve,” you said simply, but from the very bottom of your heart.

His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Does that mean you’re… willing to give it a shot?”

You shrugged, scooting closer to him and he eagerly opened his arms for you, contentedly wrapping you in his embrace again as you pressed a kiss to his sternum.

“Not gonna lie. It might be a very long shot and the idea of someone raking through my mind is… unsettling to say at least, but if you trust her enough to let her do that… I trust you, Steve. I trust your judgement and I believe you wouldn’t come up with something like this just for laughs. So yeah. I’m willing to give it a shot.”

His hand found its way under your chin to tilt your head back, chasing your mouth with his, sealing the deal with a surprisingly sensual kiss which turned into another and another… gradually growing lazier and sloppier until you settled for one last kiss goodnight, melting into each other like you belonged there and nowhere else.

Maybe you did – for all you knew, you could be lovers who reincarnated time and time again only to find each other across time and space.

The thought made you chuckle, the breathless sound escaping your lips before you finally fell asleep.

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat on the couch, one you had taken after anxiously pacing the living room for what felt like forever. Steve had called Wanda the first thing in the morning-- well, almost the first thing, and she had agreed to meet you this very day, accepting the offer to be picked up after lunch.

One light meal later, because you could barely swallow anything with your throat tight and stomach twisted, and one unpleasant call later in which you learned you officially failed the exam, oh joy, here you were, waiting in Steve’s apartment in Brooklyn.

For the millionth time you thanked heavens for Steve wanting to have his own space outside the compound. You really didn’t want to deal with this near everyone and you weren’t certain you were comfortable with the woman you didn’t know at all in your crampy apartment.

The lock clicked and you jumped to your feet, instantly making your way to the door. You stopped in your tracks when you realized you would probably freak her out right from the start.

Better let Steve handle this part. And the introduction-

Shit, can she read my thoughts right now?!

Naturally, your mind suddenly filled with the most embarrassing moments of your life and you wanted to scream in frustration, mentally apologizing to the young ‘witch’.

Yep, still weird to think that.

One sweetly familiar and one foreign voice reached your ears, the female one chuckling silently and you just knew she heard every single one of your thoughts.

Well. Worse things had happened, you guessed.

You sighed, took a deep breath and tried to fix an inviting smile that wouldn’t seem too desperate and awkward as hell. You probably failed, but you would take what you could get.

“I still can’t believe Sam challenged you to a flying contest. I really thought he’s a sensible guy,” Steve said as they entered the common space and you wiped your sweaty palms to your jeans, searching his face first.

His lips were smiling, but if you looked into his eyes closely, you could read the hints of anxiety you felt yourself.

Your gaze shifted to his companion then; the pretty brunette with shade of red in her hair shrugged at Steve’s remark, smirking.

“Who am I to argue with him if he wants to have his behind handed to him?”

If you were being honest, you had been slightly intimidated at the mere idea of meeting the Scarlet Witch; however, you took an instant liking to her.

She was young and while her eyes carried pain of her complicated past, she radiated strength and positive energy, a glow of something extraordinary that had nothing to do with her powers, but more with her personality.

She met your gaze, smiling at you kindly and you shook yourself, registering Steve making his way to you, dropping a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Hi,” he whispered and you returned the sentiment, brushing his hand before deciding to grab it firmly and squeeze in greeting.

“Hello, miss Maximoff. I’d say ‘welcome’, but I’m not sure I have the right since this is Steve’s apartment,” you rambled, mentally cursing yourself for it. You couldn’t just keep your cool, could you?

The woman only smiled wider as you went and offered your hand to shake along with introducing yourself.

“I appreciate the sentiment anyway. And please, call me Wanda. It’s nice to meet you. I only heard good things.”

You frowned slightly, trying to imagine how much Steve could tell her about you during the ride, when Wanda subtly pointed to her head.

Oh. OH.

What should you even say to that? She had seen you before and possibly knew things about you she didn’t ask for (was that how that worked, people throwing thoughts on her without her will, or-) without even meeting you.

You gulped and from the corner of your eye, you noticed a slight hint of red to Steve’s cheeks. Interesting.

“Likewise. Uhm… I’m sorry to meet you like this though. I—we barely introduced and… I’m already asking for your help,” you said apologetically, honestly ashamed for that. “I’m sorry.”

It might have been a mutual decision of Steve and you to lay low with your relationship, which meant postponing meeting his friends to later, however it didn’t change the fact you felt like you were using Wanda.

It was not the best feeling in the world. This was how low you had steeped-

“Please, don’t even worry about it. Steve’s… friends are my friends as well. I’ll be happy to try and help, more so to help people that make Steve happy.”

A twinkle of mischief appeared in her eye and Steve next to you cleared his throat loudly, rushing to be a good host.

“Anything I can offer you, Wanda? Water, tea, coffee…?”

You did not miss the pointed look he gave her and the beautiful creature she was, she grinned at him, amusement dancing across her face.

“Tea would be great. Shall we sit?” she beckoned to the couch and you nodded, asking Steve for a cup of tea as well. Coffee and talked about your phobia did not sound like a good mix after all. “Alright. Let’s see what can we do about your situation.”

Steve had told her most of the essential information, obviously including the fact you didn’t know when the phobia developed.

“Okay. Are you comfortable with me trying to reach out into your mind? To create a mental connection of sort?” she asked after a while, sitting in an armchair opposite to you, while Steve nestled next to you in respectable distance, not touching you at all, letting you choose how much of a physical contact you wanted.

You greatly appreciated both Steve and Wanda for respecting your boundaries and allowing you to push them whichever direction as you seemed fit.

Because having Wanda probing in your head was fucking terrifying.

Steve trusts her, you reminded yourself, and she gave you no reason not to trust her either. She was in fact so welcoming you could cry.

Wanda smiled at you patiently and you felt heat rising into your cheeks, once again realizing she could probably hear your hesitance as well as seeing it.

“Yes. Tell me what to do,” you decided, hoping you sounded at least twice as firm as you felt. “…that is if I need to do something.”

“I’d be much more comfortable if you did, I’m sure you would like that better too. Once you do what I say, you will feel certain nudge, my mind reaching out – please, try to let me in. Now I want to you to close your eyes and imagine a safe space. A truly safe space, somewhere you feel like nothing can touch you, can’t hurt you in any way, not physical one, not emotional one. Just a completely safe place,” she coaxed you gently.

With a deep breath, you eyed Steve, catching his supportive smile before following her instructions.

Your first thought was of your childhood bedroom. You were surprised how sharp the memory felt – probably an effect of Wanda’s powers.

You stood there, as if truly there, looking at your desk, papers with amateur doodles scattered all over it, and you couldn’t but smile at the memory of your notebooks being filled with little results of boredom. And then the angry male voice reached your ears, followed by a shout from a woman, and the illusion shattered just like the plate that hit the ground, causing your eyes to snap open to reality.

The intense weight on your chest startled you, the fights you had heard from the relative safety of your room during your early years crushing your ribcage with each breath you tried to take.

You met Wanda’s kind eyes, feeling Steve’s hand gently brush the back of yours which was gripping the edge of the couch.

The young witch shook her head lightly, your gazes locked with such strength you felt like she was staring into your soul through a looking glass – and boy, did you feel like Alice in wonderland yourself.

“There’s no rush,” Wanda assured you, voice low. “You don’t need to force it. Breathe in, breathe out. In and out, how many times you need. Close your eyes and try to remember. When was the last time you felt truly safe?”

Steve’s hand squeezed yours before withdrawing and leaving you to your own thoughts again as you took several calming breaths and let your eyes flutter shut.

You honestly had no idea why you had thought of your childhood first, when you in fact only felt safe once you left to pursue your dream career. You loved your tiny apartment much more – because it was your space, your safe space.

Your couch bought on extra sale because of the horrendous colour, that bookshelf that remembered better days, but still didn’t yield under the weight of your books, the three pitiful plants you got only to shut your friend up… you walked to the poor excuse for a kitchen cabinets, involuntarily smiling at the mismatched door that your neighbour was able to get you and installed after the original one nearly knocked you out as if fell off without warning.

Your fingers traced the counter when a pair of strong hands landed softly on your hips, an arm sneaking around your stomach, a kiss pressed into the crook of your neck. It didn’t startle you, a sense of comfort enveloping you instead, Steve’s lips curling into a smile against your skin.

“Tu m’as manqué, mon cœur,” he admitted and you couldn’t but melt into his form, a content smile tugging on your lips.

“Missed you too.”

His grip grew stronger before he allowed you to turn in his embrace so you could give him a welcome kiss. He had been on a mission for a week and you somehow found yourself at that stage in a relationship where you felt comfortable enough to admit you fell hard for each other, while retaining that sense of your time together being precious and too limited no matter how much of it you actually spent together. Or at least that was what this was for you – judging by the satisfied smile painted on Steve’s lips when you withdrew to catch your breath, the feeling was mutual.

“…though that phrase is still not making a damn sense,” you complained, earning a chuckle and another kiss, his arms lifting you so you barely stood on your tiptoes.

You were an independent and a dare to say badass woman, but hey, you would not deny that such display of strength made your toes curl.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” you asked once he set you back down, though he never released you from the cage of his arms.

The sudden dull pressure in the back of your head surprised you, but wasn’t necessarily unpleasant.

More than anything else, it brought you back to reality a little; this was nothing but a memory. Steve appearing as if his motions slowed down only proved that.

Unsure what to do, you massaged the back of your head and stepped back, Steve’s arms easily falling; his gaze remained fixed on your though, patient. A game your mind had built, you realized, a mirage created with the witch’s help.

Let me in, Wanda had said. Yeah well, a manual to follow would be nice.

Willing yourself to relax as much as possible, you felt a slight pop and the pressure disappeared.

Before you could question it, a voice sounded somewhere, close but yet far.

“Thank you for letting me in,” Wanda said simply, causing you to jump few inches above the floor.

But the Steve in your memory nodded and you focused on breathing in and out, trying to take in his comforting presence in the safety of your apartment rather than focusing on Wanda, the intruder you invited.

The thought of the witch seeing this however felt anything but comforting – embarrassment filled your being instead. A part of you couldn’t quite believe Steve, your boyfriend of barely four months, belonged to your safe place as much as anything else.

You were honest with each other, but how would he react if he knew that? What Wanda must have been thinking?

“There is no reason to be ashamed,” her voice reassured you softly, sounding as if she was smiling a bit. This really was awkward. “I won’t tell on you either way, but you must know you are on his mind often. I believe I was being clear on that earlier. He would be – and he should be – honoured by this. Plus, it’s still your apartment, he’s just an addition.”

Letting her words sink in, you noticed a strange red glow by the edge of your couch, just a flicker of something that certainly didn’t belong – and sure as well wasn’t making you feel safe.

In fact, simply watching it caused your stomach to somersault.

“Think of your fear for a bit. What you see is a rift to the world you’re trying to reach.”

Balling your hands into fists, you gulped and reluctantly did as Wanda told you.

Needles. Christ, why.

The glimmer of red energy pulsated, growing in size considerably – and with it, so did the cold sensation in your stomach. Your breathing picked up, your heart hammering in your chest.

Gentle fingers curled around your wrist, causing you to look at Steve, having been ignoring him for a while. He swept his thumb over the sensitive skin on your inner wrist, a smile spreading on his lips when your eyes met.

“You’re doing great,” he encouraged you and you briefly wondered if this was your imagination, Wanda’s doing or actual real-life Steve touching you.

Whichever it was, it grounded you, your ribcage expanding easier despite the pain.

The rift stretched to your height, its powerful presence feeling like a punch in your solar plexus, making your skin crawl, your body shrinking into itself. The wave of nausea that hit you didn’t help either.

Your hand was lifted, lips brushing your palm before letting go.

“You’re going to hate this, but I need you to touch it,” Wanda instructed you and indeed, you hated the mere idea of coming closer to that thing. But what other option did you have?

Steve smiled at you again, supportive and understanding, and you clenched your jaw, forcing your feet, suddenly feeling like made of lead, to move.

“Once you touch it, you’ll find yourself in the memory. Sadly, I can’t follow you there, but trust me – and trust Steve –, we will pull you back. It’s nothing but a memory,” Wanda explained and that truly did not ease your building anxiety at all.

You supposed it shouldn’t have, she was only stating facts, but the remark about her and Steve did give you strength as did looking around your apartment again.

All you had to do was to touch that-- weird thing… and relive your death. Death involving needles. Charming.

You took another shaky step, every fibre on your being screaming at you to run the opposite direction instead. Leaning onto the couch for support as your legs turned wobbly, you let the familiar sensation of the fabric sooth you.

You had to do this. You could do this.

You casted one more glance at Steve, who crossed the short distance you had walked and placed his hand on your shoulder, clearly not having any difficulty approaching the rift. It made sense, you supposed – this was your fear you were dealing with, not his.

“I’ve got you,” he promised, his palm sliding down your back, its warmth so damn pleasant against the goosebumps that rose on your skin. “And you’ve got this, mon cœur.”

“Damn you,” you mumbled and that bastard had the audacity to chuckle and squeeze your hip.

“Go. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Easier said than done.

With a suffocating lump in your throat, you forced yourself to take the last step and reached out your trembling hand towards the pulsing red energy.

A scream ripped from your throat when that thing gripped you fiercely and sucked you in.

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

The lights were bright, burning in your eyes as did the unshed tears. After the dark corridors you had walked with a man at each of your side, both shorter than you, and another man behind your back, the startling clinical white made you nauseous.

Or maybe that was just knowing the inevitability of fate. Bile rose to your throat, the world spinning, shadows of the hall following you like claws of death, already reading for you at the mere thought of what waited in this room.

You didn’t try to run; each of your steps felt too heavy for that.

You didn’t try to break free of the men’s hold on your veiny arms; they felt like made of lead, weak and clammy from the lack of sleep and sustenance.

You didn’t try to insist on your innocence anymore; there was no point in talking if words fell on deaf ears.

People always heard what they wanted to hear. People always saw what they wanted to see.

Truth was a matter of circumstances and death was the only certitude a man had.

The door fell shut behind your group of gloom, the white walls closing on around you, the hairs on the back of neck standing at attention. The icy tone of the room barely aggravated the cold seeped in your core, in your very bones. Each step echoed in the almost empty room, every breath – as much as your last would.

You had practised yesterday; you knew the drill. Enter the room slowly. Don’t look at the one-way glass as it might startle the high representative of state whose daughter you had (supposedly) violated and strangled to death. Lie down and let them strap you to the table.

When you had obediently sat down and one of the guards – Franz they called him, decent guy you thought – met your gaze, a warning in his eyes mingling with regret as you laid down.

Staring onto the ceiling, tears gathering in your eyes, your heart was beating its way out of your chest, anger, so much anger at the injustice once again battling with the feeling of resignation. Justice didn’t exist int his world; they had found their scapegoat. Your innocence virtually didn’t exist. Your testimony was a lie, everyone thought so.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard the buckles at your feet, a torturously loud sound in the silent room and then your feet were restrained. Your chest right under your armpits came next; the guard fastened it harshly, so tight your eyes snapped open in surprise.

You stared into the eyes of a guilty man, a man whose face held no remorse for wrecking and taking two lives. You remembered the black orbits from the night you saw them widened with wildness, a savage pleasure gleaming in the dark, noticing your figure behind the beams.

Strange, you pondered. The restraint on your chest felt like a tickle in comparison to the pressure on your chest when you looked into those eyes, your breath hitching in your throat, suffocating weigh squeezing your lungs and heart; was this how it was going to feel? You had heard rumours.

Like a liquid fire running in your veins, slowly licking until it reached your heart. You wondered – who spread the tale? Everyone with this treatment met their death, didn’t they? Then how could people know?

Was it something made up so the inmates died a bit by bit, every minute before even feeling the pinch of the needles?

A violent shudder shook your whole body, but you didn’t think you moved at all.

Your limbs didn’t belong to you anymore as they uncuffed your wrists in order to strap them to the table instead.

God, it was so so cold- what was the last time you were warm?

Your eyes followed Adams’ hands, hands painted in invisible blood, invisible tonight as least, as they fixed the strap on your right wrist and moved to your head, jerking it so you faced the blinding light instead.

You couldn’t plead Satan to take the true killer anymore; you were out of time. You prayed instead.

You prayed for your soul to find peace and justice, for the light to engulf you quickly, before you could feel the fire in your veins in stark contrast to the ice in them present now.

Now I lay me down to sleep

To an eternal sleep. To death. This was your end. Tears ran down your cheeks, silent and useless.  Shame on a man who cries for himself – but you lied to yourself, just this one time, that you were crying for the unjust world where lies and deceit won over the truth.

I pray the Lord my Soul to keep

Your gaze blurry, your head restrained, you could still make up the needles piercing the skin of your forearms, attached to the bags on the IV poles. The liquid in them was clear, pure like water, seemingly so innocent – as much as the inmate on the table.

If I should die before I wake

It was a strange dichotomy – the numbness spreading from one side, the burning heat from the other. Your fingers twitched and closed into a tight fist at the sudden surge of pain, gnawing, blinding.

Oh God, please, please-

I pray the Lord my Soul to take

A scream filled the blank room, a sound so animalistic it couldn’t belong to a human being, deafening to your ears. You couldn’t breath as the fire burned its way through your arm, leaving ashes in its wake-

“-the fuck-“

“What’s-“

“Just--it! ---thing!”

The fire subdued as the world lost its colour, everything swallowed by blackness, a bleary image of a spasming arm with a glint of thin piece of metal flickering before disappearing altogether.

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

Your throat burned from the scream ripping from your its depth, a blurry image of a woman in front of you casing you to back out into the bed— no, you were sitting up now, the room wasn’t white, was darker-- the scream was definitely not male anymore, no, it was a female one, it was yours-

The room spun and disappeared, replaced by a sharp image of an apartment, your apartment, and you looked around frantically, catching a glimpse of a tall blonde figure in the corner of the room, your heart, hammering so painfully in your aching ribcage fluttering in relief. Your gaze swiftly returned to the man, like a drowning person to the sun glimmering on the surface of water.

Steve.

Your apartment and Steve.

Your name was being called silently and you realized that the scream had died down, only your harsh breathing remaining.

“You’re safe. Remember? Nothing can touch you here, no one can, not unless you let them,” Wanda’s voice soothed you, causing your eyes to flutter shut in respite, your knees giving out.

Despite having been standing several feet from you, Steve was suddenly there to catch you, scooping you into his arms, enveloping you in a protective embrace while you sobbed into his shirt, his soft voice whispering sweet nonsense, not saying a word of complaint about how desperately you were clinging to him, inhaling his aftershave and detergent and him.

You’re safe. I’ve got you.

Je te protègerai toujours, mon cœur.

I’ve got you, I’ve got you.

I love you.

When you opened your eyes again, the images blended together. His heart was beating vigorously against your cheek, his lips pressed into your hair, but you could hear Wanda moving around – you were in Steve’s apartment, back to reality.

Upon realizing that, you gripped him with all you had and whispered a shaky sorry, which only resulted in his embrace growing tighter.

It took you another hour to settle down enough to discuss what would be your next steps, ones that certainly wouldn’t be taken today.

“I know how hard this is to hear, but I won’t just magically snap my fingers to make it go away – I mean, I could, but no one can tell the consequences in the long run. It will take several sessions, short though, when we dull your very understandable fear a bit. You’re strong – I believe we can deal with this. Thank you for trusting me,” Wanda said nonsensically, as if she wasn’t the one helping you.

Even if her help so far felt entirely awful.

“Thank you, Wanda. Truly. It means a lot.”

“Thank you,” you echoed Steve’s words lamely and heard a hint of a smile in Wanda’s voice when she was leaving the apartment.

“You’re welcome. Get some rest. I can get to the compound on my own – I need to practise for the match with Sam anyway.”

Involuntarily, the corners of your lips twitched at the image of Wanda floating above the city and landing in front of Steve’s gobsmacked friend, cursing himself for challenging a witch. About thirty seconds later, you were laughing, practically doubled over with the force of it, tears still streaming down your face.

To be fair, you did deserve to be hysterical all you wanted.

Much later, you fell into an uneasy sleep, Steve’s voice laced with amusement and concern at the same time as he read to you about adventures of a young telekinetic girl, about her sweet teacher and the terrible headmistress bullying them both.

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

You might have been fiddling with your fingers, anxious about what you were about to face, but you couldn’t’ quite shush the excitement spurting in you with each joyous beat of your heart.

You eyed Steve in search for silent support – or any support really – but if his expression was anything to go by, he was highly amused at your antics. The corners of his lips were twitching as he stared ahead, ignoring your very pointed glare.

You elbowed his ribs playfully, but made sure to dig you bone into him. Cocky little shit.

He actually chuckled at that, fully aware that you probably hurt yourself more than you hurt him, because his damn serum turned his abs into stone. A very hot stone in both senses of the word, a stone sensitive as hell when you ran your fingers over it (or your mouth, for that matter), but still.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he let out between his chuckles and you didn’t believe him one bit.

You knew that you were being a tiny bit ridiculous, but… he didn’t have to rude about it.

“Likely story,” you muttered grumpily, trying to recall just when had the anxious but fully supportive Steve turned into a laughing mess.

It must have been when you passed your fucking exam. Finally!

After weeks of Wanda working her magic on you – and of your work on yourself, being very brave and determined, as she had never forgot to mention, as did Steve – you had been able to retake your exam, the last one in the line of group missions and tests. You could have been done long before today, but truthfully, you couldn’t be happier with the result.

Besides passing your exams and officially becoming a SHIELD agent, you had learned how to control your phobia. Not entirely, but considerably, just enough to do your damn job.

Your dream job.

The fact that it meant you and Steve not having to be shy about your relationship anymore was an entirely pleasant bonus. By no means you had been shy when you succeeded – you had assaulted him right in front of Director Fury, jumping into your very secret boyfriend’s arms. Thank god for Steve’s reflexes, because while he had seemed utterly shocked at your lunge, he still hadn’t dropped you. Needless to say, you both had to collect your jaws from the floor when the director just snorted in amusement, a knowing look in his eye. Apparently, nothing escaped this man’s attention. It was almost funny, actually.

Naturally, with majority of your friend being off to missions, because they had graduated spy school at their first attempts, you were left with Steve to celebrate with; no complaints were filed though, celebrating in Steve style was very much glorious. One might say you even saw fireworks.

Anyway, since his friends were in town for once, he decided that the time had come for you to meet them, with not having to hide your relationship anymore and all that.

Hence you being worked up again; you were about to meet Steve friends. The Avengers.

You had every right to be slightly terrified. What if they didn’t like you? SHIELD agent or not, how would you face an angry Hulk? Or a demigod? Hell, Barton or Romanoff—okay, Romanoff at least knew you existed, occasionally catching your gaze in the corridor or during training, but-? And Wilson could fly in that get-up of his-! Not to mention the android!

Steve’s arm winded around your waist, pulling you to his side and spinning you to him until you were chest to chest. That did effectively snap you from your gloomy thoughts.

“You just defeated your phobia and showed everyone what a great agent you will make. You can handle a bunch of people with the same goal as yours,” Steve reasoned with you, smiling down at you widely, even dropping a kiss on your forehead. “Plus, they are excited to meet you.”

Was that supposed to make you feel better? Because your stomach dropped even lower and you sighed, meeting Steve’s eyes, soft and yet joyful.

His enthusiasm was infectious. Plus, you did become a SHIELD agent today… Steve had shown you his appreciating in many ways… plenty of reasons to be happy.

“What did you tell them about me?”

“All the good things. Stop worrying, they have to be nice to you anyway, it’s your day after all.” A smile spread on your face at the reminder and Steve’s arm tightened around you. “The moment we started to plan the reunion, they knew celebrating your big break would be on agenda.”

You leaned your head onto Steve’s chest contentedly and closed your eyes, showing him how sweet you thought he was being. In the back of your mind, you wondered just how long one elevator ride could be, even if it was to the top of the Avengers Tower, and if the AI running the building happened to slow it down just so you could try and calm your nerves.

Which was exactly why it took a moment for Steve’s words to truly register. Your eyes snapped open in horror and you quickly retreated, not missing the shit-eating grin forming on your boyfriend’s lips.

“Steve… when did you start planning this get-together?” you asked warily, narrowing your eyes at him and swallowing the luckily unnecessary panic.

“Four days ago. Why?”

He knew damn well why!

You slapped his left peck with vigour, half-angry, half-moved by his stunt. He chuckled and placed his palm over yours, pinning it to his chest, shaking with hushed laughter.

“This isn’t funny, Steve!” you argued only half-heartedly, because to his utter luck, things worked out. “What if I have failed? That would be so-”

He removed his hand from yours in order to cradle your jaw. You wanted to be angry with him, you did. Furious, in fact, but he was making it really hard and you officially got your dream job today and- yeah, he was hard to be mad at, especially when he spoke with sincerity that took your breath away.

“I knew you wouldn’t. I had faith in my girl.”

Steve pecked your lips as you sputtered a curse, frustrated with your inability to chastise him properly when he was being charming and melting your heart with every word.

“You know, everyone keeps saying that you’re reckless…” you grumbled and one corner of his lips rose higher in a lopsided smile, twinkling eyes watching you with a blend of admiration and amusement and love and how could you resist him? “Punk…”

His fingers sneaked to your nape, pulling you in for a deep kiss; lips parting, tongues meeting just because you couldn’t get enough of each other and of the delight you tasted on each other with every kiss.

His arm just lifted you from the ground a few inches, causing your stomach to flutter in the most pleasant way, when the elevator doors slid open and a snarky comment welcomed you.

“Rude.”

You jerked away from Steve, startled, but the ball was in his court as he had to place you back on the ground. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment when your gaze fell on a smirking Tony Stark.

Well, shit. As far as first impressions went, this could have happened much better…

“You sure you want to celebrate here and not somewhere else?” the Ironman himself continued, gesturing his hand in a so-so motion and you wished to face hundreds of needles rather than him and the rest of Steve’s friend who had just got a free show. A rather PG one, but a show nevertheless.

“Stark, quit being a dick,” a female voice stuck up for you, rendering you speechless as it didn’t come from Wanda, but from Natasha Romanoff. “Congratulations!”

The rest of the team had various mixture of amusement and surprise written over their faces, but neither of them seemed hostile. In fact, they did look eager to meet you despite your dramatic entrance. Wanda smiled at you reassuringly from behind the android – Vision, you believed – and nodded, probably hearing your thoughts practically scream at her.

You smiled back at the witch before turning to the Black Widow herself.

“Thank you, Agent Romanoff,” you replied politely and a grin that told you that one day, you might even become friends, appeared on her face.

“You’re welcome, Agent 18.”

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

S.R.masterlist

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

Title taken from Halsey’s Haunting. Pics used are not mine, credit to original creators.

Also: yes, Steve was reading Matilda to our brave to-be SHLED agent as a comfort book.

Thank you for reading!

(If you at least a bit and you’re a fan of Wanda being awesome, please consider reading Walpurgis Night. It’s a result of rereading too much of T’s work anyway.)

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦ *✧･◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

Tags:  @scentedsongrebel​ @orions-nebula​ @cxptain​ @patzammit​ @kayteewritessteve​

#tpromptsachallenge #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x you #captain america imagi #steve rogers #captain america #wanda maximoff #tw:death #tw:violence #tw:blood #tw:cynophobia #tw:trypanophobia #tw:needles #mcu #marvel #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #writing challenge #avengers #shield agent reader #sheild #avengers fanfiction #fluff #angst #elements of horror #long post

[babyybitchhh]

Thotty Thursday: Part 2

The second installment of Thotty Thursday is upon us. Rejoice, heathens!

Now, let me just say that I’m picking dudes at random while trying to keep things balanced between old shows and new ones but ... y’all really bout to notice some patterns the more we do this so I’m just gonna wait for someone to call me out tbh. 😰

FYI, I like to think of myself as an equal opportunist thirster and if a dude is hot then he’s hot. I’m not one to question this shit. But when you get right down to it I have like four types: high IQ smarty pants, dummy thicc, dad and bad boy bastard. Our next snack belongs in the last category, without question.

He’s honestly prettier than me and that is not an exaggeration but don’t let his good looks fool you

This Arabian Nights styled dime piece has a mean streak a mile wide. Because of Reasons, ofc, but that don’t change the facts

Not only did he once punch a child in the face for no other reason than to assert his dominance (fact) he also pretended to cry in front of the person he hates most just to laugh about how they fell for his (flawlessly executed) act

He honestly may or may not have a few screws loose but that’s part of the appeal, you see. It adds a dash of spice to the meal

And you know what they say about crazy bitches in bed 😏

Full disclosure, I started reading Magi: Labyrinth of Magic before the anime aired and his name was originally translated as Judal so that’s what he’s always going to be in my mind. The official translation is Judar, and I respect that, but at the end of the day I do not know her

Judar who?

Can I also just take a moment to point out that gloriously long, thick braid he’s sporting tho

This man has hair for days and there’s just something I find incredibly attractive about that

I want to take it all down and carefully comb through it, play with it and style it again 

Really show him the attention he deserves

If he decided to suffocate me with it, well, I guess I wouldn’t complain about that either

Now, the setting alone had my interest PIQUED right out the gate because I love Middle Eastern inspired aesthetics and I truly don’t think it’s utilized as a setting half as much as it deserves to be. It’s very beautiful imo and the anime team did a pretty good job of capturing that vibe but if I’m being honest I think the manga was better (up to a point)

However there ain’t nothing quite like seeing your man move on screen or hearing his voice with your own two ears and when I say Judal put on a show each time he showed up ... 🥵

I think I can safely say my pussy clenched whenever I got so much as a whiff of him possibly making an appearance, PHEW

He’s just so pretty and mean

My favorite combo tbh

“But why do you like mean boys so much 🤔?” You ponder aloud and my answer to that is “I don’t know. I just do.”

Judal gets my kitty purring for a variety of reasons but the biggest is probably that I can’t look at him without imagining myself as his feisty little slave girl, wearing nothing but sheer silk and delicate gold chains, completely at his mercy ...

Oops, did I say that out loud? 😳

I mean, can you really blame me when he’s running around in those baggy harem pants though?? Can you really???

So the first thing you probably thought was: damn. This guy kinda dressed like a thot 👀

And you’re not wrong

Does he HAVE to dress like that? Strictly speaking, no. But I am definitely not complaining about his fashion choices

His titties are so close to popping out of that tiny little shirt that we’d be getting nip slips left, right and center if he had any more meat on his bones than that and trust me when I say he did that shit on purpose

This boy is SUCH a fucking tease and he loves the attention it gets him - first and foremost because he’s used to being the CENTER of attention but we’ll get more into that a little bit later

Hes just a tad 👌 narcissistic, loves to show off, definitely bipolar and is in a constant state of feeling himself so he’s hitting all his marks as far as I’m concerned

In short, he’s perpetually oozing big dick fuck boy energy and I live for it

That’s why he’s always showing up with that stank ass attitude, he knows damn well he can pull the baddest bitch around AND her man too

He’d fuck you and your boyfriend at the same time just to prove a point, that’s actually how petty he is

Honestly though I’d like to see ANYbody maintain their resolve when he’s laying on the charm and Judal’s just cruel enough to do it for shits and giggles

Probably wakes up in the middle of his sprawling imperial bed at two in the afternoon and says something like “damn, I need a little pick me up today” and then proceeds to manipulate and harass his lucky unfortunate victim of choice

He’s relentless too and will stop at absolutely nothing to get what he wants, even if that means breaking you in the process

Again, I like the challenge he represents

But also I just like a man who can make me cry 🤷‍♀️

And I don’t doubt he absolutely would. Tears probably turn him on tbh and I’m positive he’s got a bit of a yandere streak too

Are y’all seeing those patterns yet??

So did you guys notice that wand he keeps twirling around like a goddamn baton?

He’s a magic user, or in this case a magi which means he’s literally at the top of the food chain in this universe

He’s special special

Every ounce of confidence he has is rightfully deserved and even tho he’s not the strongest per say, he IS extremely powerful and his destiny as a magi is to influence the world

THE WHOLE ASS WORLD YA’LL

That’s why he’s got such a big fucking ego

I promise these aren’t major spoilers, so you don’t have to worry about that

When he was still a (too precious for words) child, he was abducted by an evil cult so that they could manipulate him and use his powers to influence shit in a bad way. The exact details of what they did to him are hazy, but based on the snippets we did get it seems like they basically put Judal on a pedestal and raised him as if he were some kind of god or a king

I’m talking waiting on him hand and foot, giving him whatever he wanted, essentially worshiping him and using persuasive mind control magic to convince him that he’s the best thing to happen since sliced bread

And it worked

Can you tell exactly how fucked up this kid is right now

Keep in mind here that I’m not saying his screwed up personality isn’t the result of some seriously bad mojo

Magi are supposed to be what tips the scales of fate in this setting which, generally, means for the betterment of the world and this whack ass cult pointedly steered him down a path he otherwise would not have gone

But it’s this tragic past of his that really brings the whole package together

He could be a mean pretty boy for no other reason than because he wants to and I’d still drop into a split on his cock

I like mean for the sake of mean too

It’s just that knowing what made him the way he is gives us the perfect amount of insight to truly feel sympathetic despite all the bad shit he has done and will continue to do

Personally, it makes me want to be the one to show him genuine, tender affection no matter how much he’s initially appalled by the mere suggestion so in a lot of ways it’s similar to how I feel towards Hiei

But that doesn’t mean I want him to change and start being n - 🤢 start being nice - 🤮

He’s perfect just the way he is and there’s just something about big, confident egos that gets me going like little else

And Judal seems to truly believe he’s the greatest gift the world has ever received and he’s not wrong about that imo so yeah he definitely has an attitude problem

But that also means he’s a spoiled brat tho and he’s definitely one of those dudes who needs to be dommed on occasion to really get the full experience 👀

I am not too shy to pin him down and milk his cock for all it’s worth, that is all I’m saying fam

And can I just point out how breathtakingly gorgeous he’d look all flushed and sweaty, whimpering like a needy little bitch in heat while having his prostate relentlessly teased for hours on end?

Goodness, it suddenly got HOT in here, is that just me??? 💦

Ofc the only way that’s gonna happen is if he allows it - which I don’t see being a common occurrence - but that’s why you gotta take advantage of that shit when it does 👀

On the topic of Judal being spoiled, I want to mention that there are actually TWO very different backdrops that I can thot around with him in, and I like that

There’s the fantasy Middle East setting ofc which I personally can’t get enough of

I’m wearing the slave girl Leiah outfit in my mind right now btw

But he also spends a lot of time in this worlds version of ancient China complete with all the dramatic robes and elegant architecture to really set the mood

He has an entire imperial palace on lock and if that doesn’t get you even a little bit horny then idk what to tell you

The royal family for the most part treats him like one of their own despite not being related in any way, if that tells you exactly how much clout he pulls in this setting, and even tho they’re essentially using him for their own gain Judal doesn’t seem to mind it one bit

He likes being at the top and having the freedom to do whatever he wants so if that means doing a little dirty work for the Kou Empire then so be it

And I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be a ride or die on these little errands

Like, just imagine this pretty boy pulling up to you on his flying carpet (that’s not a joke or something I just pulled out of my ass btw) and asking if you want to come back to his crib for some fun

You say yes, because you might be a thirsty slut but you’re certainly not STUPID

And he straight up takes you to a fucking palace

Be honest with me guys, how fast do the panties come off tho?

Be real with me here

This is actually just the plot of Aladdin but with the gender roles reversed 🤣

Fr fr though, A Whole New World plays softly in the back of my mind every time I think about this dude, except it’s much darker and ... explicit 😏

But my point here is that Judal’s got basically everything he could ever possibly want so he really just needs a pretty little concubine at his side to complete the picture

And I dead ass feel like it should be ME

When I say this man could get it ....

OOF

He is TROUBLE in its purest form and I regret nothing about my choice in fictional men

Absolutely nothing

He could honestly fuck me up seven ways to Sunday and I’d thank him for the honor

Spit on me, king. Please. I don’t need nothing else to sustain me

Unless you want to throw some of that choice dick in for free? 👀

Lord  have MERCY

#thotty thursday #judal #judal magi #magi labyrinth of magic

[the-busy-ghost]

Thoughts on TSP S2E05- The Plague

Well that was An Episode. Actually I thought the writing in this one was a little better than the other episodes (at least until the last three minutes or so, what the fuck), and I did like some of Katherine’s speeches this time. Nonetheless some thoughts:

- Firstly, I would like to see the casting call. Do they cast for ‘Whispering Lady #1′ and ‘Whispering Lady #2′? Seems like you could make a career out that, given how often they appear in period dramas.

- How long has Sir William Compton been ill? I know the plague was a terrifyingly quick disease but you would think someone would have noticed he looked a bit peaky BEFORE he dropped dead in the middle of the hallway. Also they’ve established that he’s the physically closest person to the king and yet nobody is at all focused on checking to see if Henry is well?

- I really feel like they’re setting up Anne and Katherine’s relationship to be Bessie Mark 2. Like Anne is going to be portrayed as a close attendant and confidant and then stab Katherine in the back, thus robbing Anne (and indeed Bessie) of any independent motivation or justification.

- Could they call this episode Bessie Blount and the Fastest Three Year Pregnancy in England

- And while we’re on the subject poor Bessie. I really feel like she’s been robbed a little by the writing (not by the actress, Chloe Harris is great). She doesn’t get to say a word in her defence until halfway through (the silent Other Woman), and then we’re supposed to believe that being the king’s mistress was such a huge dishonour she’d be chucked out, and then the only reason she is restored to favour is probably going to be because of Katherine? That’s a lot to saddle on one woman. I was already a supporter of the Bessie Blount defence squad and I am quietly seething on her behalf. Also I feel like they could have had Katherine help at the birth IN LITERALLY ANY OTHER WAY THAT WAS VERY GROSS AND NOT AT ALL SAFE AND THEN YOU JUST LEFT HER THERE BLEEDING AND FUCKED OFF WITH HER BABY

- Katherine “what did you think I was going to use it for” WELL SURE I DON’T KNOW KATHERINE BUT HOW IS THIS BETTER??? The Myranda absolutely JUMPED out here, I cannot even BEGIN to describe how appalled I am.

- Also again is this supposed to be a sympathetic portrayal? Snatching baby Henry away from his mother before she’d even held it? Even if you hate her it’s a dick move especially since you are known to dislike the pregnancy and you also just pulled a knife on her? And you won’t even hold your own daughter so like double shit?

Anyway moving on...

- They are really playing up the ‘Wolsey lives vicariously through Henry’s mistresses’ vibe this episode. It is A Lot

- Also how does Stafford always manage to say things in literally the grossest way possible. Who gave Olly Rix these lines.

- Lol @Wolsey just dropping his cardinal’s hat casually into the conversation. Classy.

- Nobody “understands” Henry. Except Wolsey of course. Poor misunderstood baby king, AYE RIGHT.

- Mary’s storyline was actually pretty well done. They ARE cute. But I suppose it’s easier to pull off the ‘beautiful princess in arranged marriage and secret wedding’ plot than anything more complex like Margaret’s. I’m still not over the fact that that is very clearly Waddesdon though.

- *Technically* I’m not sure their marriage actually counts as treason, in the terms of the fourteenth century treason acts, but I’m no expert on that so I could be wrong. Just seems that period dramas throw the word treason around a lot when it had quite a specific meaning in England (in Scotland not so much, it’s a very flexible word there).

 - Mega Feminist Katherine of Aragon refusing to touch her daughter and continuing to refer to her as a ‘useless girl’. 100% Accurate and Feminist portrayal this (not). But Girl Power right?

- Awkward sex scenes GALORE this episode

- Margaret’s storyline was... somewhat comprehensible this episode but still a bit naff. Not the actors fault, they are doing their best. But I suppose it works? I do have some specific thoughts on details on that though, so more below

- Do I have to keep pointing out that James V WAS the king not the future king? Did you all miss the mourning coronation or something? Also the ‘Stewart clan’ does not “insist” on anything, because that is waaaaay too simplistic and also the wrong terminology.

- Albany’s line about ‘civilised company’- I mean as a Scot OUCH but also it’s quite believable coming from him I suppose, wee John was not a huge fan of Scotland.

- Holyroodhouse was not part of Margaret’s dower so far as I’m aware? At least it wasn’t traditionally part of queens’ dowers in Scotland and it wasn’t in any of the documents I’ve seen made at the time of her marriage.  It also had a freaking abbey attached to it (though tbh, that had fallen into decline a bit by the early sixteenth century). So why not pretend you’re using one of Margaret’s actual dower houses, further north? Also if I were Angus and I was trying to hide out from the Duke of Albany while illegally retaining control of James IV’s illegitimate children, I would probably go to the much more secure castle of Tantallon, not Holyrood. But everything has to happen in Edinburgh I suppose.

- Ok it’s a tiny detail but I am still exercised about the Presence of James IV’s illegitimate children. Firstly, how are they all still kids?? The only one who should still be under the age of twelve in 1516 (or 1519? God knows when this is) is Janet Stewart, the future Lady Fleming and daughter of the Countess of Bothwell. There is no evidence that she was ever raised at court and her mother Agnes was still very much alive (she actually spent Christmas with Margaret Tudor at Morpeth after the queen’s flight into England). 

The others were either dead (Alexander via Flodden and a few who died in infancy), married adults (Katherine, Countess of Morton, and Margaret, Lady Gordon- the latter *might* have also been in a relationship with Albany’s older brother Alexander Stewart at this time, it’s unclear), or teenagers approaching adulthood who were either on the continent or in Albany’s camp (James, Earl of Moray). 

SECONDLY how does it AT ALL fall in Margaret’s purview to raise them, let alone that of the Earl of Angus. Margaret could theoretically have stepped in as a benefactor- that’s not unknown and the royal family was a wide concept so Albany and Margaret sometimes did act on behalf of royal cousins and illegitimate children- but Angus? Even Jane Stewart of Traquair would theoretically have more right to one of the children than him (and NOT because of some stupid ‘Stewart clan’ nonsense) since wee Janet Stewart was probably her first cousin. (Margaret Stewart, Lady Gordon was Angus’ first cousin but once again, she was a married woman with children of her own). Although if they’re implying this was a political move on Angus’ part then that would have been a smart move- having custody of James IV’s illegitimate children could be quite useful politically, as later events involving both Albany and Margaret Tudor showed. But since the show has sort of been implying that they’re useless and that Margaret is stuck with them, it doesn’t make a lot of sense.

- Also none of this is how a pre-contract works, and while we know very little about Jane Stewart of Traquair anyway, it’s clear that the show knows even less. But we love to see the Earl of Angus torn to shreds by both Margaret and Jane. One would hope that that was him Telt but sadly we all know this isn’t the case.

- Oh and a woman! In Scotland! Who is Scottish! We’re not cryptids after all! And she was then immediately chucked out.

- Also he just... walks off?? No attendants, no kinsmen, no horses? Do the writers have any idea of the level of power and status the Earl of Angus theoretically held?

- One of the men behind Margaret had A Line. I fear this is how Henry Stewart is being introduced to us.

- Can they shut up about the god damn kilts for TWO. MINUTES.

- BUT the real award for the most truly disappointing thing about this episode goes to the fact that we are now unlikely to get the Margaret and Mary reunion we all deserve. I mean I cannot BELIEVE this show passed up the opportunity to show the Queen of England and the dowager Queens of Scotland and France all acting in consort after the Evil May Day Riots. But then I suppose they would have to deal with that event in a sensitive fashion which like, I do not see them doing. I am genuinely disappointed by this, since the actresses are doing their best and I think it might actually have been a good scene. And it would have been an excuse for some fabulous costuming.

Anyway. That’s about all I’ve got.

#TSP #Margaret Tudor #Mary Tudor #rants #Meg Tudor

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 11

Previous: Tailing Taehyung 

Pairing: Min Yoongi X OFC

Genre: Angst, Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Government Agent AU

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of Consensual Sex

Summary: The final part of Suga’s orders are carried out. 

Codename Another Shot at Love Pt. 4

Winter After Graduation

           December and January passed without much to report. That being said, everything that OT7 had planned went swimmingly, with one singular exception.

           The dinner at the Lee estate had sent a wave of insecurity through Euna, which made it easy for Yoongi to feign ignorance when he began, deliberately, to pull away from her.

           The first few weeks after dinner were filled with Yoongi convincing Euna that he was going to stay, that he was all in, that he wanted to be with her. She believed him, and by believing him, started the early drafts of their futures together. He hated the deception, the lies he strung together as easily as breathing, the files and documents charting his deception updated daily by Hoseok.

          Hoseok had the unpleasant task of transcribing all conversation and interactions between marks and members of OT7, his specialized training and exceptional hearing made his job easy. Yoongi was instructed to record everything, except sex or any hooking up that went down. Being in charge of most of the tech, he wielded his glasses and watch, set to record when they were on his person, set to turn off when they couldn’t detect his body heat. He could manually turn them off, a button on his watch near the band allowed him to with ease. He’d only fucked up once or twice, not recording when Cupid spilled important info, which angered Namjoon to no end. They weren’t amateurs, Yoongi should know better. Regardless, everyday Hobi transcribed the conversations between Yoongi and Cupid, adding more to the list and charts of the lies being told.

           “Jun-Seo said that Jimin wanted to send you something, a welcome to the gang, gift,” Euna said over dinner.

           Surprised and pouting, Yoongi responded, “A gift?”

           “Knowing Jun-Seo and Jimin, it’s probably a Dae-Seong voodoo doll,” Euna shrugged.

           “Okay, did they want to drop it off or give it to you?” Yoongi shrugged it off.

           “Jimin wants to have dinner, the four of us,” Euna told him, sipping her wine.

           Nodding again, Yoongi asked, “How do you feel about that?”

           “I would rather not,” Euna said.

           “Then we won’t.”

           “Isn’t it part of being a family?” She asked, unsure what the protocol of a functioning family was.

           “Having dinner? Didn’t we just witness Guadalcanal? You think the troops wanted to hang with the natives after they slaughtered them?” Yoongi scoffed. He hated how docile Cupid was towards her family, always doing what she thought was right, rarely what she wanted.

           “Eh, it wasn’t that bad,” Euna responded.

           “You’re shitting me,” Yoongi’s eyes were wide. “War is not normal, I mean, besides Iraq and Afghanistan, that’s normal.”

           “No, I’m not. We’ve had far worse, that one was honestly, average. At least my mom made it through the entire meal, and no one broke a glass or threw a plate at Dae. They weren’t on their best behavior, but it was better than most meals we share,” Euna informed him.

           “That’s toxic, psychotic, that’s fucking horrifying, Euna. You don’t have to put up with that.” Yoongi took her hand in his while she watched her roll her eyes.

           “Didn’t you know that, though?” She snapped.

           “Know what?”

           “The Lee family, and Lee Enterprises, breeds nothing but toxicity and wages psychological warfare on every member of the inner circle. That’s why no one leaves,” Euna’s temper continued to flare throughout the night, sleeping as far from Yoongi as possible, barely acknowledging him as he slipped from her home the next morning.

           Arriving at work the next day, Yoongi and the OT7 team spent an additional week tracing the longevity of careers at Enterprises, as well as tracking hirings, firings and workers who just disappeared from records.

           “Who’s been there the longest?” Namjoon asked, files scattered across the conference table, writing strewn on the glass between offices. He was growing tired, a sign from the cold he’d acquired running a surveillance mission with their recent acquisition, a trainee ready to be put into the field.

           “Not including the Lee family, that would include a somewhat distant Vanderbilt relative, a Henry Claypoole,” Yoongi said.

           “Not a Korean?” Seokjin asked.

           “No, the Lee’s didn’t rise into prominence until, well, it looks like the late 80s, when they did a market sample and it became apparent that an Asian-American owned company would serve better in the future than another fortune 500 owned by a white family, that and Vietnam had ended and American sentiment towards Asians of all kind was changing,” Namjoon responded.

“Once the Civil Rights Act passed, and the government continued to allow Asians immigrate, opinions were changing.” Yoongi added.

           “It wasn’t that long after Vietnam though,” Seokjin was skeptical.

           “It didn’t go over well, they hadn’t gone public until the early 2000s, so it balanced out. It was pretty hush-hush until the mid 90s when Claypoole died.” Namjoon pulled up the paperwork, passing it to Jin.

           “Still, Vietnam, AIDs, their investors were okay with this?”

           “At the heart of the Lee business model, is a relentless grab for power. They were making ins with the wealthiest families in Asia, Europe, UAE, Middle East and South America. There wasn’t a royal family or billionaire who hadn’t put their money in,” Namjoon told the men.

           Curious, Seokjin asked, “Before it was Lee Enterprises, what was it called?”

           “Claypoole & Lee Enterprises,” Hoseok responded. He’d forged a few older documents with their old insignia and water mark.

           “CLE?” Jin had looked at their old stocks, comparing them to other companies when he was in college. They were a fickle company, always hard to pin down or predict.

           “Yes,” Hoseok answered again.

           “They changed their name?” Jin confirmed.

           “It was a complete rebranding to help with their demographics, but it also made sense once Claypoole was six feet under.” Namjoon replied.

           “The less American, the better?” Jin clarified.

           “Exactly, better for the global image,” Namjoon adjusted his glasses before running a hand through his hair. Dark and quaffed, it fell back into place in gently swoops.

           “Claypoole worked in the bank from day one,” Yoongi addressed the three men.

           “Claypoole was just a figurehead, the original chairman of the board while Lee and his crew ran the company,” Namjoon said.

           “How do their hiring practices measure up?” Hoseok asked, he spent zero time reading and understanding the internal workings of the company unless he has to write in a specific person’s voice.

           “They accept applicants in pools, hiring in spring/summer, train in fall, then reevaluate the following spring. Their classes or cohorts are no more than ten people, with a few exceptions based on the market demands and company growth. Some years, specifically at the beginning of the tech boom, they hired fifty people, other years, six. It is fairly unpredictable,” Namjoon passed around another set of documents.

           “The most tenured staff has been there for thirty years,” Yoongi said sipping his coffee.

           “Yoongi, you haven’t had to sign an NDA?” Hoseok asked.

           “No.”

          “What about retention?”

          “No one talks about retention. It wasn’t in my contract at all, no blind clauses or double language.”

          “Has anyone left in the year you’ve been there?”

          “Not that I’ve seen. No one talks about contracts or negotiation outside of the speculation of what will happen come May.”

          “Their plans for negotiating contracts also vary by years spent, first years going through a level of hell that slowly descends as you work your way up the ladder,” Yoongi informed.

           “Why would they want people to stay?” Hoseok asked.

           “They’re all complicit? They knowingly are committing felonies, so staying means no one can hold it against them?” Yoongi suggested.

           “An entire company of 200 people, all insider trading? All embezzling? That’s inconceivable,” Namjoon was unsure how realistic the possibility was.

           “An entire company, minus one,” Jin whispered.

           “Yoongi, how is our Cupid doing?” Hoseok smirked.

           “She wants to move in,” Yoongi muttered.

           “What?” Seokjin yelled.

           “Yeah, oh, and her clothes have begun to infiltrate my closet,” Yoongi sipped his iced americano, his own making, a product of the espresso machine he had begged Namjoon to buy. The coffee ice cubes, a stupid idea from a pop-up video, had turned Yoongi’s favorite addiction into a godly experience.

           “She wants to move in, with you?” Hoseok was shocked.

           “Fuck off,” Snapped Yoongi.

           “What else?” Namjoon asked.

           “She’s been calling a lot, at random times in the day. She’s got snacks in her apartment for me, like really niche stuff. She bought a thousand-dollar bottle of whiskey for me, bought me a pair of silk pajamas that cost near $550. The worst of it all, and I swear, I swear, she’s developing an impregnation kink.”

           Namjoon and Hoseok laughed, doubling over to hold their sides as they became consumed by the idea.

           “Seriously?” Hoseok gasped.

           “Whatever happened at that dinner has her scared shitless,” Seokjin remained calm, though the shock etched into his ageless features. “She’s never wanted kids.”

           “Which is why it’s concerning,” Yoongi said.

           “You stopped using condoms?” Namjoon dropped the laughter to stare at Yoongi. “Don’t tell me you stopped using-

           Yoongi’s eyes widen, cheeks tinting pink as he blushes. “No, no, that’s how I know she’s developing this, obsession. She very vocally, wants my fucking seed.”

           “Does she ask you not to use one?” Hoseok inquired.

           “Yeah and tells me I can take it off and I don’t need to because she’s on birth control, which she isn’t.”

           “Pull out?” Hoseok suggested.

           “Oh yeah, the second least successful method to avoid pregnancy,” Namjoon laughed again.

           “You can tell her you don’t want STI’s,” Jin offered.

           “She’ll ask if I’m sleeping with other people,” Yoongi had gone through every option, there was no good solution. He pissed off Cupid, or he put himself at risk. Unwanted pregnancy was not how he was going to start off his mid-twenties. Fatherhood was not on the table, especially not with someone he at his core, didn’t love.

           “Are you?” Jin wondered.

           Rolling his eyes, “When would I have the time?”

           “You’ve always been a one partner kind of guy,” Hoseok responded.

           Confusion in his eyes, Yoongi tilted his head. “What does that even mean?”

           “Just that-

           “Yoongi, start distancing yourself, as gradually as possible,” Namjoon redirected.

           “Roger that.”

           It was a cliché, become a horrible partner to get the other person to break up with you so you didn’t have to. It’s even more of a cliché for the person hoping to be dumped to revert back to their pre-relationship behavior in order to get their partner to dislike them, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, that was exactly what Yoongi did. Frankly, he didn’t have to try very hard, though, to get Euna to be hurt by him.

           Introverted in nature, he began by closing himself off to her, cancelling plans, bailing at the last second. He became withholding of sex and general intimacy, being standoffish when she tried to get him to open up, annoyed when she tried to use her wiles against him. He tapped into all the flaws past partners had accused him of and let them run wild.

          It was slow at first, building up Cupid’s resentment towards him, for every step away from her he took, she took three more towards him. Her internet searches became solely based on ways to keep Yoongi, entrapment through a hole in the condom, or preying on him after a night of drinking. She lost all sense of what was acceptable, what was normal, and spun out completely. Cupid tried to track his phone, bought burners to call and catfish him, put extra security in place in his corner of Lee Enterprises to ensure she had eyes on him all day. Paranoia and obsession have no place in a healthy, stable relationship, but Yoongi couldn’t fault her for feeling both towards him.

          The final straw, on Yoongi’s end, was a confrontation the night following Cupid’s weekly family dinner.

          “Why didn’t you come to dinner? Who were you with?” Cupid demanded when she called Yoongi.

          “I told you, I have a deadline and Matthew needs the plans before the market opens on Monday,” Yoongi reminded her.

          “You’re not at work,” She snapped.

          Calmly, Yoongi exhaled, “I’m at my apartment.”

          “Why are you lying to me,” It wasn’t a question, but an accusation.

          “I’m not lying, Euna, I am at home working,” Yoongi answered.

          “Why don’t you ever come to dinner?”

          “You said I didn’t have to, after the first one,” Yoongi reminded her.

          Cupid scoffed, as if that was a true reason. “Jimin’s there, and recently, Dae’s wife has been making an appearance.”

          “I would prefer to not engage with your family unless I have to. It blurs the lines of work and personal –

          “But you’re dating me! You’re fucking me, you’re in love with me.” She rattled off, “Why does my family have to be the problem? What’s really going on?”

          “What do you mean?” Yoongi was already tired of the conversation.

          “You’ve been acting weird for months. You don’t want to sleep with me, you hardly stay over, you’re distant and weird,” Accusation after accusation, Yoongi had made a list himself of what she could potentially throw at him.

          “I have been going through a lot, can’t you understand that?”

          Scoffing again, Cupid responded. “You’ve been going through a lot? What about me?”

          “Euna, I know I’ve been shit, I just-

          “You don’t love me anymore, do you?” Bingo.

          “What?” Yoongi feigned hurt.

          “You’re not denying it,” She snapped.

          “Do you really think that?”

          “Yes, Yoongi, I do. I think you used me to get into good graces with the company so you can move up the ladder. Now that you’ve got some traction, you fucking don’t care about me or our relationship.”

          “That’s crazy! When have I ever shown any sign of wanting to move up the corporate ladder? It wasn’t my idea to fall into bed with you, Euna, your mother set this up,” The angrier he pretended to be, the faster this would be over.

          “Why are you acting like this if you’re still in love with me?” She demanded to know.

          “I told you, works been chaotic and I –

          “If work’s chaotic, why not tell me? I can change that.”

          He held in a laugh, “That would be like nepotism but worse.”

          “Are you saying this to make me feel better?” She asked, voice softening.

          “Euna,” If only she could see him, eyes closed, glasses on his desk, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He was tired. Tired of Euna, tired of working at this company, tired of lying. He didn’t often burn out on missions, but this had taken him to his edge.

          “You don’t want to have sex, you don’t want me in your space, you cancel plans, you never answer my calls. Yoongi, are you cheating on me?”

          “What?”

          “You are, aren’t you?” She could feel the tears breaking through, the resolve of anger she had disappearing.

          Yoongi took a deep breath, knowing she was going to throw up whatever she could until it stuck.

          “Euna, stop,” Yoongi sighed.

          “Then tell me what’s going on,” She whispered.

          He had to say it, he had to otherwise this fight would continue on, resulting in an in person confrontation. “We should break up.”

          The silence on the other end was worse than her screaming at him.

          “What?” Her voice was still soft, a heartbroken whisper.

          “We want really different things, and I don’t know if I can or will ever be able to give you what you need. I’m sorry, Euna, I am,” Yoongi said. He wasn’t a heartbreaker, he loved fiercely and passionately. But Cupid was a mark, plain and simple.

          “Fuck you, Yoongi,” She spit.

          “I’m sorry, Euna,” He laid on the apology.

          “You had my heart,” She sniffled.

          “I know,” He sighed.

          “And you stomped on it, ran it over with an 18-wheeler, and threw it into a blender. Fuck. You.” Cupid was back to anger, coursing through her like lava down the side of Kilauea.

          “I’m sorry,” He repeated.

          “I want my stuff back, and I want you to put in your transfer at Lee Enterprises,” Her voice was fueled by anger and sudden heartache.

          “A what?” Yoongi was shocked.

          “Transfer, you can’t work under me after this,” She had switched to business mode. There was one thing Yoongi had remained impressed by, and that was Cupid’s ability to put the job over everything else, everyone else, not because she had to, because she wanted to.

          “That’s unlawful,” Yoongi warned.

          “I don’t care.”

          “Euna,” He pleased.

          “Transfer, or I will fire you.” An ultimatum, something she never wanted to be faced with.

          “You can’t –

          “Don’t. Test. Me.”

          “Okay, I’ll do it Monday,” Yoongi compromised.

          “You can send my stuff back, I don’t want to see you.” Cupid hung up. In her home, she threw her phone against the wall, watching it rebound onto the carpet before she fell to the floor, tears abounding. How many heartbreaks could she withstand? How many tears would fall at the emotions of another man, breaking her spirit? In some deep recesses of her subconscious, Dae-Seong’s words played through without a scratch. Maybe he’d been right.

          Yoongi texted OT7, who no doubt had already known through the rapid transcription Hobi was almost certainly completing, or through listening to the fight go down. The receipts would show that Yoongi had followed orders as directed, he completed his mission, his mark had been hit. Hook, line and heartbreak. Looking at the calendar, he laughed darkly. Of course, he would break up with her days before Valentine’s Day.

Next: Codename The Mochi of It All

#min yoongi #min Yoongi / suga #Min Yoongi / agust d #BTS #BTS fanfic #codename cupid #code name cupid #codename #code name #secret agent au #government agent au #secret agent au #BTS agent #valentines day #BTS fan fic #Min Yoongi fanfic #Yoongi fanfic #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #park jimin #ot7 #jung hoseok #j hope #jung hobi #thebtswritersclub #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bangtanarmynet

[anxiousdepressedintrovert]

Otome Thursday

Leon Route

-Guess who’s back!

-Back again?

-Guess who’s back

-Guess who’s back...guess who’s back 

-Leon’s back! 

-I’m so fucking excited~

-Baby has grown so much

-Let’s get into it 

Episode 1

-Oh right, something he hasn’t told us 

-Underground fighting ring? 

-The first rule of fight club, you do not talk about fight club

-REIGNING CHAMPION OF THE UNDERGROUND FIGHTING RING 

-Why’d you do it Leon?

-”The pain reminded me I was still alive.” 

-Oh honey :( 

-Yeah no shit it’s a dark time in your life.

-No sane person looks back at the life YOU’VE lived and said “What a nice life” especially coming from prision. 

-Awwwww I see leon still needs therapy

-Just like the rest of them

-Yeah, no more pushing Maya (my MC) away! She’s already proven she’s ride or die. WHATMORE DO YOU WANT!

-Maya wants RESPECT

-...Ok. Uh, no. No going to meet with Russian mobsters. 

-Maya that’s how you get held at “insert weapon” point

-It’s not a united front. It’s stupid

-EEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

-WHY THE FUCK DOES THE RUSSIAN MOB LEADER LOOK LIKE THAT!!!

-His biceps are as big as his head!!!! 

-BAD DESIGN!!!

-I thought he was supposed to look evil not repulsive 

-ewwwwwwww

-Yeah no shit he’s a killer Maya, he can crush you like a grape, look at it arms! They’re practically all one size!

-Ah yes, a Yuri Russian Last name I have no intention of remembering cause it’s long and i can’t pronounce it. 

-I hate him

-They’re ignoring Maya, Which is why she shouldn’t have gone. I just KNOW she’s gonna say some stupid shit. ALL MC’s do

-If she doesn’t I owe you a cookie

-What kind of hieracrchy?! The goons don’t owe LEON anything! They’re boss probably pays them! What does Leon do besides beat them up? Jack shit

-Ewww Yuri’s smile is creepier than his straight face and I didn’t think that was possible

-five dots arranged in a square, that’s important! probably...I’ll have this as record just in case

-According to Yuri “we’re on the same side”

-Of course, here come the threats. Why would you threaten someone on the same side?

-Ah yes, casual murder.

LEON STOP ITWITH THE MARTYR COMPLEX

-The fuck do you mean “You can stay here with the others?” 

-What is she supposed to do Leon? Build a Widow’s Walk?

-Thank you Maya!

-THANK YOU REST OF THE POPPY!

-Yeah, you have a family that care Leon. Deal with it!

-So the Poppy hasn’t been to Russia in this route (Correct me if I’m misremembering Viv’s, Zoe’s and Niko’s)

Episode 2

-I wanna go on this train so bad. 

-I wanna go back to Europe

-Also, I have beef with (I think) Zoe’s writer. They wrote that we don’t have this in the states, we do. It’s called Amtrak. It’s not an old train but it is a train that goes across the country. So maybe I misread and they were referring to the train’s age?

-Maya, now it not the time to engage in small talk

-Of course he’s distracted about what’s going on. 

-Awww Leon, can’t seem to outpace his past

-AHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA could you imagine, a road trip with the poppy?

-Remy and Jett would be either drugged or left on the side of the road, most likely both

-Train sex! And I didn’t have to pay for it!

-Leon, the only time you weren’t brooding was when Maya was riding you. 

-Of course, the penthouse looks the same 

-I kinda wish the background artists were able to vary the designs

-But alas

-They have a Fabergé egg 

Episode 3

-Time for an entrance!

-of course the “thieves in law” aren’t subtle about it. 

-What is with this choices?! omg!!!

-When in doubt pick B

-Give one egg as a “we’re not here to piss on your playground” and learn there’s another one to be stolen 

-Ugh, gotta go see Yuri’s ugly mug

-Apologies to anyone named Yuri. I’m sure you’re much prettier than this Yuri

-OOooooh Yuri suspects Gravili of trying to seize power 

-Ugh now he’s talking about how he got to where he is 

-Of course he killed someone. Oh we’re so impressed. 

-He’s sussed out that we were gonna throw the first fight. 

-So throw the third

-Ew, pickles and vodka?

-Is that a thing? Can any Russian confirm? 

-Yay! Leon’s going with my initial thought! 

-Throw the third fight

-He’s gonna pull the ‘old man’ card I can’t 

-It’s REMY that practices with Leon?! Wow

-And now, we wait. 

OKAY! 

That was the first Otome day back! I hope you enjoyed the slightly new format. 

I’ll be back tomorrow with Fiona’s route and The Royal Heir 

Here’s a sneak peek of TRH

-FUCK OFF ADELEINE 

#lovestruck #leon kwan #Leon route #otome days #otome thusday

[thebargainingchip]

Blood Colors - Chapter 18

Masterlist

Pairing: Roan x Reader

Warnings: Angsty, Fluff

Previous Chapter

Chapter 1

A feeling of dread sits in the pool of your stomach when you're back in Polis. There’s no escaping the feeling or distracting yourself, you are soon caught up in wedding plans which you barely have a say in. “Deyon, osir ste won. Moron, osir gondaun ogeda(Today, we are one. Tomorrow, we fight together)”

“Gonplei.” Echo corrects, you avoid Roan’s pointed gaze, you feel like you can’t breath with him so close, you didn’t want to think about what this means.

“Gondaun, gonplei. It all means the same thing.” You shoot-back.

“It does, though they are different but you need to say it exactly.” Roan says, and for a moment your eyes connect and you look away. How are you supposed to look him in the eye and say all of this.  Let alone do anything else the ceremony might want.

“Again.” Echo leans against Roan’s desk.

“I got it.” You snap.

“Again.” Echo insists with a strong glare.

“Echo, that’s enough help for one day.” Roan warns and Echo rolls her eyes and leaves but you ignore her with a silent angry exhale. “We then exchange the object which we poses that has the most meaning to us.” Your mind immediately flickered to the dog tags.

“This object it could be anything?” Roan nods, you ponder for a moment giving something else. There’s a little silence as you think deeply then look up and wonder what he’s think and what he has in mind.

“Then I will take the knife and poor my blood into the chalice.” Roan continues after a moment.

“I don’t like where this is going, sounds ill-advised.” You comment trying to sound light-hearted as you moved on from the thoughts, Roan sighs a little in frustration but amusement glimmers in his eyes.

“Then you take the knife and do the same.”

“Do they wipe it first? I mean like no offence but I don’t know what sort of grounder viruses your carrying that my space immune system can’t handle.” Roan sets you with a look and that nervous, impending-doom feelings forgotten as the nervousness turns into something entirely different.

“The same knife and then you and I share a drink.” You pull a face of course but Roan ignores you like he has been doing this whole day.

“Is there any kissing in this? If so we really might need to practice, I mean the last time I kissed you it was pretty much one sided and we need to at least convince the crowd.” Despite your joke, your cheeks burn.

Roan makes a thoughtful sound like he’s considering it, he takes a step forward like he made his decision and your smile falls as you step back bumping against the desk. Roan leans in and your thoughts scramble to decide whether you should stop him. He’s face is so close to yours now, you hold your breath. “Roan-“ you start but something twists in your gut, but it’s pleasant and keeps you from shivering at the tingle that runs up your spine, you swallow thickly. Roan hums again, this time a shorter observant sound.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that lesson yet.” He leans back, and you can breath again.

“Well I clearly didn’t mean now.” You say once you’ve recollected yourself, your whole face feeling like its on fire.

“We’ll continue later, you have an appointment with our yonhaka.” Roan was already on his way out.

“Yonhaka?” You ask confused.

                                            ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“You’re late.” The Woman says the moment the guards open the door for you. “It’s hardly my fault, it took me an hour to find this place, I don’t even know what a yonhakais.” You survey the room, it is full of rolls of patched together fabric rolled onto large rollers packed against the walls, there is a big work table to your right, and large old mirrors to the left side of the room, of you study the old or nations in the room, it’s clear this was some studio of a kind, may be for dancing? Behind the woman with exotic ethnic features that you can’t quite place is two women and a man. By the way she carries herself , it's clear who in charge.

“The.” She says simply.

“What?”

“Jus Gona, you have the privilege of meeting the royal dresser, it is an honour to be adorned in the art that she makes with her own hands.” The male introduces.

“Do I bow?” You question sarcastically from the dramatic words.

“Fiery.” She notes. “I have some ideas but I will need to take your measurements first and have you try on old dresses.”

“Lady, I don’t do dresses, I need something I can move in. Shit can go south very quickly with Azgeda.”

“Authoritative, demanding.” She states.

“Annoying.” You state back at her, as you try and discourage the outright judgement.

“I am building a profile of you, I need to know what you are like so that your sofkova (dress) can represent you.” She explains patiently, “As for the other matter, there is no negotiation on the sofkova, a dress it will be even if I have to sew it to your skin, but it will be functional.”

“You just got a whole creepier.” You point out.

“My goal is to make you feel your power when you stand in your dress, and if you don’t- but you will- then I haven’t done my job correctly.” You cocked an eyebrow.

“Try me.” You challenge.

“Ban we yun bakkova (Remove your clothing).” She orders and with a wave of her hand you do.

“And one last thing, if you ruin my work, I will ruin you.” You didn’t say anything against her blatant threat instead deciding that you would be very careful.

                                           ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were retired to your own quarters for the afternoon, trying to go over the words of the ceremony. You sighed in frustration, barely being able to focus, you were tired after the early start to your long day.

“It’s fine, just relax.” You say out loud, instead deciding to lay out the clothes you were going to wear for bed. There was a knock at the door and you gave you permission for the person to enter.

“Jus Gona, the Ambassador of Skaikru has requested to see you, King Roan has granted him access.” You sigh knowing whatever you say to the guard won’t help the situation. “Ai na gocha yu op got raunkova(I’ll escort you to the throne room).” He declared. You weren’t much surprised that Roan would want the meeting to be somewhere in public, given Skaikru’s recent record. Of course, you knew you would be given some privacy at least but one or two guards might be present. It was Marcus though. Would he really do something like that to you? You decided that some people did stupid things when they were desperate, you wouldn’t be over powered again.

The moment the doors opened, you were surprised, Cedree stood against the far wall behind Marcus, arms folded as he watched carefully. You hadn’t seen him since-

“Y/n.” Marcus says when the door has closes behind you. You feel a little trapped for the moment as you look over your shoulder to indeed atest that the noise was truly the door closing and the guard leaving, no doubt right outside the door. You steel yourself and turn to him, a little funny thought crossed your mind. ‘Marcus was standing next to the guy you tried to have sex with’ It was supplied by some foolish irrational thought of you and of course you were an adult who could make her own decisions, it was not like Marcus was in anyway related to you. After this you couldn’t for a moment take your eyes off Cedree, feeling totally embarrassed by multiple things.

You needed something to focus on whatever Marcus was here to tell you. You strode towards the table.

“Do you want anything?” You toss the question over your shoulder at Marcus. There’s silence so you pour one glass.

He always knew what to do when talking to people and he was checking all the boxes when he said:

“You remember when I caught you drinking, you had met up with a boy and one of the guards reported to me that you had been out past curfew while I was working late night.” You turn around during the story, taking a sip of the wine and watching him, knowing instantly where this story was going, feeling even more embarrassed that Cedree was here, but you ignored his presence for the moment

Marcus smiles at the memory and it makes you think back about how he put the boy in detention for a week and made you assist Abby’s patients for the next month, it was how you and Clarke got close. Despite the not so uncomfortable memories you shut him down quickly.

“You told me that I will always make mistakes and that if I didn’t see it you would space me like my parents.” It’s an old scab and you know how Marcus feels about it, you’re long past it but he doesn’t need to know about it. You had to admit, Marcus was a relation, no matter how hard you tried to deny it. Your reality was that he had betrayed you even if it wasn’t him who took the initiative, you were angry because he wasn’t there to stop Clarke. You put the glass back on the table, behind you.

“Maybe I wasn’t the best... parental figure in your life at the time but you turned out well and you know how much I’ve tried to make it right.” You couldn’t deny it he had, countless times made up for it, Marcus had always been there for you, even when you fucked up he was there to correct your mistakes and he hadn’t judged you for them. And he wasn’t all bad, as much as he liked to believe, you were taught valuable things, how to survive, how to lead people and how to get them to follow, what power means to people and how they tend to use it if it falls into their lap.

“Marcus, I’ve killed people, a murderer is not exactly the picture of a good child.” Marcus reaches to steady you by the shoulders and out fo the corner of your eye, you both notice Cedree move, hand on his sword. Marcus steps back hesitantly, ever since he changed, he’s been affectionate and at first it made you uncomfortable and then you discovered it was because it was something you hated to admit you needed sometimes- in small doses.

“Me too. I’m not perfect, none of us are. I killed your parents, you know I’m still paying for it. This life does things to us, but it doesn’t mean we’re bad people, not if we make the right decisions, even when it's hard.” You shake your head pulling away from him, how hypocritical, you hated how it hurts but you sat it anyway:

“Marcus, I can’t help Skaikru, at least not in the way you want to but if you support this decision we made, then Roan might-“

“What decision, (y/n)?!” He raises his voice at that, interrupting you then pauses to collect himself but continues in the same serious tone but softer. “Don’t tell me that you made this decision because I damn well know you didn’t. And it’s not okay, you’re barely twenty two and Roan could almost be-“

“Don’t you dare say it.” You glare at him. He stops, recognising something in your expression. “You know, I can’t read you. I don’t know what to think anymore. I can���t tell if you actually care about me or if you are trying to save your people.”

“They’re your people too.” Marcus says, you simply glare at him, he knows how fondyou are of your former fellow ship mates. “Why can’t it ever be both?” He questions.

“I am not trying to force you to decide. Marcus, my happiness, my safety will never be in your hands again. There’s no decision here. Either Skaikru doesn’t support this marriage, rejects Roan as the rightful King or they survive.” You emphasise, ignoring the clear insult he gave you a moment before. For once you just wanted to feel like someone put you first but you pushed it aside.

You stepped back schooling yourself back into place. “Please go, my wedding day is tomorrow, I will need plenty of rest to prepare for the long festivities.” The doors open. You’ve said everything you possibly could, now it was up to him. “The Guards will escort you back to your rooms, and I will know your final decision. You’re fate, tomorrow.” Marcus doesn’t protest. As Cedree knocks on the door singling to the guards outside who opened the doors.

“Ced.” You say softly as Marcus is escorted out.

“Ai na goch Faya Gada gon baggeda(I’ll escort the fire girl to her bedroom).” Cedree says to the guard waiting on you, who nods and joins the guard escorting Marcus away.

“When did you arrive?” You enquire casually.

“This morning.” He explains simply, “I heard you were caught up in a little skirmish with your people.” You nod, then change the subject drastically:

“I feel terrible.”

“No need,” He says in that’s strange accent with a boyish smile, “I’m just wondering what was your intention that night.”

“I was trying to see if I could feel anything, since I might have had to spend the rest of my life with you.” You explain.

“And?” He asked.

“Ced-“ You start in a soft tone, not quite sure how to put the words.

“I know this path has long since past, And don’t get me wrong to think that anything might have developed past friendship in the time that I’ve known you, I’m sure you know these things take time, but I’m curios.” He interrupted quickly explaining, you almost sighed in relief.

“No, Ced, I’m not set up to work like that.” He nods, accepting your answer.

“Shall we?” He gestured to the open hall way.

“I need to see Roan.” You add, he nods and walks you the way.

You pause outside the room, next to the guards and smile at Cedree as he nods to you and leaves. When you hear Echo’s voice you stop the guard from opening the door for a moment as something captures your attention.

“Jus Gona?” The guard questions, you push him.

“Wait a moment.” You tell him as you listen.

“-stop being so soft with her.” You instantly knew who they were talking about.

“What I do is none of your concern.” Roan states. He doesn’t deny it and something flutters with in you and then is quickly snuffed out, the last thing you wanted was to be treated like something fragile due to a pity party. There’s silence that follow, your wonder if Roan is contemplating Echo’s word. Despite Echo being his advisor, he seems to usually shut her down when she speaks up, which is surprising that this time he doesn’t chase her out.

“Jus Gona?” The guard questions, reminding you as the silence continues inside.

“I changed my mind.” You say. “Please tell the King that I spoke to Marcus Kane and that he shouldn’t be expecting any support from Skaikru.”

                                           ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The sun has long since set when the doors to your rooms open once more to an unannounced visitor, your fingers are entangled in the dog tags of your brother, the old rusted chain and faded letters are so familiar but you put it aside as Roan steps further into the room, the doors close behind him.

“You allowed Marcus to speak to me.” It sounds colder when it echoes around the room.

“I knew, as Jus Gona, the future queen and leader of my people, you would be able to win us a new ally and I was expecting you to perform your duties.” Roan doesn’t answer, the King does.

“Don’t be so sure, I have achieved nothing but to cut the only person that ever believed in me out of my life.”

“It’s him who made that decision not you.” Roan adds, it hurst worse.

“Can you please take that stupid thing of your head?!” You cry out frustrated. When the moment fades and Roan keeps quiet, idle by the desk where rests hand on the backrest of the chair, you feel ashamed at your childish outburst. You clench and unclench your jaw, thinking of the apology almost stings.

You hear the soft thump of the crown on the table and you look up, watching Roan peel back his regal outer layers until he can more comfortable move in his untucked shirt and simple pants. He lays them out over the chair, taking his time and then he strides to your side of the bed.

“Roan I am really-“ He sits down on the bed by your legs.

“How did it go when you spoke to Marcus?” He asks, it's so genuine, his words soft.

“Awful.” You say simply.

“I’m sorry.” Roan says, holding your gaze with a sincere look. “If you want to talk about it..?” Roan trails off but you look away, you weren’t in the mood to open old wounds, if you could just keep it together for one more day.

“Wasn’t this what Echo said you shouldn’t do.” You mumble almost under your breath, keeping your gaze trained on the dog tags at the side of your table. There’s enough silence that you think, he’s confused.

“That’s when you asked the guard to inform me. Is that why you didn’t come inside?” He questions.

“I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t hear it.” You say simply. “I don’t want you to go easy on me because of what happened.”

“Is that what you think my reasoning is?” He questions, when you don’t answer Roan tries with another question: “If you don’t want me to go easy on you and you don’t want me to treat you like one of your subjects, what do you want?” He asks, when you glance at him he’s genuinely curios, he has a patient expression on his face as he waits.

“I don’t know, definitely not like one of your subjects.” You say, that tells him everything he needs to know as he hums thoughtfully

“You should be asleep, tomorrow is a long day.” Roan says when he realised you weren’t ready.

“I doubt I’ll be getting any sleep.” You retort.

“Try?”

“Only if you stay to toss and turn with me the whole night.” You say before you could want to begin to stop yourself. Roan nods, and you’re a little surprised by it.

                                           ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next morning you wake up as Roan gets ready to leave, he greets you and tells you he had some business to attend to. You are ordered to stay confined in your room until someone comes to get you, Echo is with you from after breakfast which at least provides some entertainment for the day ahead and almost anything you require is at your fingers tips. There’s not much to do than to sit and overthink the day away which only seems to fuel the nervous nightmare ahead. The guards have been increased tenfold for the day, to ward off any potential threats and provide at least some form of protection in the event of some brave soul favouring a very a bad idea. The wedding was announced early morning by the King himself to the people of Polis, his people and other clans and currently he was negotiating with other leaders for the support in your union.

“Don’t they have professionals for this type of stuff? Ow!” You exclaim as Echo pulls the braid tightly. “Could you please leave some hair in my scalp after you're finished!” You snap, glaring at Echo in the mirror.

“Stop your whining, fyucha (infant).” Echo snaps right back, pausing as she glares back in the mirror. “I could leave it for you to do yourself, you ungrateful little-“

“Fine! Sorry!” You snap. Echo continues after a small pause, she continues to tug at your hair but you ignore it as much as possible, gritting your teeth.

“There.” You sight in relief as she gives confirmation that she is finished, you stand. You looked fine, the intricate braids might have been too much for your taste but it was the last thing on your mind. Your makeup consisted of key pieces that highlighted your features. A strange sight compared to the only other make up you ever wore- war paint.

There’s a loud bang as the doors hit the wall, you jump, your body tense as you reach for a dagger at your hip that is not there. Roan stands in your doorway, covered in blood. The fact that it was him, should have put you at ease but the site of the deep red doesn’t. “You’re okay.” Roan says as if it's a revelation to himself.

“Echo, guard the door.” Roan orders, she immediately steps outside.

“Yeah I’m okay, why am I would I not be okay? Are you even supposed to be here? Why is there blood all over you?” You question, your hair is braided and you are only standing in your underwear and despite the countless times you have seen blood, despite the countless times you have faced death, it horrifies you. You cross your arms, feeling a little uncomfortable as Roan tries real hard not to look down.

“No, I’m not supposed to be here but we need to do this now, some Natrona (traitors) have infiltrated the Polis. If we can finish the ceremony, I believe they will stand down, if I have the power of Jus Gona.” The door closes behind him hiding the hoard of guards.

You're stunned, you swallow not sure what exactly to think.

“What?” Is all you can manage.

“Wait before you-“ Roan starts but you cut him off.

“You’re going to kill me.” You throat burns, your first thought was ‘what were you expecting’ and then you rationality suddenly steps in, why would he tell you this if it was his plan? It makes you pause for a moment and listen to what Roan is trying to say.

“I mean,” he suddenly decides to step closer. “I’m not sure it's better.” He almost laughs but he’s expression is humourless. “Have you ever done itbefore?” Out of all the things you thought he would say, that question was not on your list.

First of all King Roan of Azgeda, one of the most accomplished warriors you know can’t say the word ‘sex’.

“Of course I’ve slept with people, are you sure you have?” You question almost accusingly.

“Yes, yes-“ he defends almost immediately, you swear he’s a deeper colour as he pauses, “that’s not the point. I’m talking about consummating the marriage tonight.” Roan is serious, you’re a little dizzy but you keep standing anyway, taking a deep breath to think.

“So we say we did the do, no one will be the wiser.” You suggest.

“It has to be witnessed.” You swallow, feeling like you needed a breath of fresh air.

“I was afraid you would say that. This fucked up shit is getting really predictable, first I have to drink your blood and now? Now this.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I keep asking-“

“I’ll do it,” your throat burns, “but I swear to God Roan, I don’t know if I can but I can try.” You hate that your eyes flood with tears but you can’t stop it as the trickle down your cheeks. Roan steps up again and simply pull you into his chest despite his bloody clothes. He smells like Iron and salt and you try to block out your own sobs. “You’re not supposed to make the bride cry on her wedding day you know.” Roan can’t help but chuckle. You half heartedly attempt a laugh but you don’t feel like it.

Next Chapter

Tag List:

@sunshine-and-riverwater @jinx-is-fire @silver424@cherrysfandom@thebookandmoviefangirl @that-cute-stranger @waitingtobeimpressed @daringvixon

#the 100 #Roan #roan kom azgeda #king roan #roan fluff #roan fanfiction #roan x reader #roan x you

[frasier-crane-style]

oKAY, I got a few Redbox rental for my birthday, so I decided to pick up Spider-Man: Far From Home, skip all the Disney Channel Original Movie stuff, and see how it stacks up as a pure Spider-Man movie. Which is not easy, because they’re in full Marvel movie mode, and every two minutes there’s a wacky aside or a sight gag or something. It’s not even Peter making jokes, which would be in-character. It’s just banter about Happy’s password being Password and stuff. There’s not one wholly dramatic scene in this movie, it has this Epic Movie sense of humor where something ‘hilarious’ is always defusing the tension. Like, all that’s missing is Leslie Nielsen being the tour guide.

1. Mexico. Mysterio has used ‘Sandman’ (confusingly referred to as a ‘cyclone with a face’--and then Spider-Man never even fights him) to destroy a town. I gotta say--if Mysterio has the ability to pull off no-bullshit terror attacks... yeah, the Sandman is fake, but the damage is real... why not just do that? It seems like there are a ton of evil organizations who would pay him loads of money.

2. Also, Mysterio is really not shy about lowering the dome and showing his face. Wouldn’t a quick facial recognition scan, of the kind that you’d think Nick Fury would run all the time, ID him as Quentin Beck? And even if he’s going “hey, that’s my double, I’m from an alternate universe,” shouldn’t Nick Fury be a bit suspicious that the double of this mysterious new superhero is a disgruntled and unstable Stark employee?

3. By the way, I know the twist is that Nick Fury is really a Skrull and that’s why he’s so incompetent--telling Peter to take his mask off in front of fucking Mysterio--but Nick Fury left a Skrull playing him, so... who’s that on? You’d think any given Agent of SHIELD would do better.

4. First action scene. Hydroman attacks Venice and is defeated by Mysterio, with Spider-Man slightly assisting. He’s left his costume back at the hotel, so he does this while using a Venetian mask to disguise himself. Hilariously, he quickly takes this off to, yes, show us his face. (Also, I guess no one notices that Not!Spider-Man is wearing the exact same clothes and has the exact same body type as Peter.) He also doesn’t make any quips besides referring to himself as “really strong and sticky.” Being awkward is not a one-liner, movie. 

5. Also, others have pointed out that this Spider-Man seems more concerned about saving property than saving lives, and it must be said that for much of this fight, Peter is trying to stop a belltower from collapsing, with no sign that he’s buying time for people to evacuate it or anything. Sure, it’s a worthy goal and all, but I have to ask how much good patching a belltower up with webbing is going to do? It’ll dissolve in an hour and then where are you? Does he really think the authorities will be able to fix it up before then? Seems like he would be better served letting it collapse and attacking Hydroman to keep him from doing more damage.

6. You ever notice how movie characters always refer to sleeping pills and such as ‘a mild sedative’? Naut Fury shoots Ned/Ganke with a dart that instantly knocks him out, then calls it “a mild tranquilizer.” Christ, what would a strong tranquilizer do, put him in a coma for ten years?

7. Man, it’s weird how inconsistent this movie is with basic characterization. Peter turns down saving the world because Spider-Man being seen in Europe might give away his identity, but he’s also blase about taking off his mask in front of Nick Fury and co. And Tom Holland walking around unmasked really makes it obvious that his suit is a CGI effect that his head is awkwardly hovering on top of. I guess just putting someone in a costume is a lost art.

And I’m not even watching this on Blu-Ray. This is a DVD, because Redbox is shit and, even though their e-mail said the promo code was good for a Blu-Ray, apparently I can only use it for a DVD. Thanks, thanks for ruining my special day. Prats.

8. I know the whole EDITH thing has been meta’d elsewhere, but I just want to point out that Stark Enterprises has a ‘global defense network’. With drones and backdoors into every telecommunications company. Imagine if Microsoft announced that, oh, hey, we have a Panzer division. I guess Stark Enterprises is a PMC now? I thought they went into clean energy. Apparently they still make weapons, but now they... hoard them to use for their own purposes? Not creepy at all. Like, Marvel does realize they are writing an evil megacorporation here, right?

9. Oh, now we’re just getting aggressively stupid. Peter is met by a SHIELD agent who insists that he strip to change into an alternate, non-Spider-Man suit (so I guess, after an action scene where he’s in civilian clothes, now we’re going to get one where he’s in this spy costume. Yeah, I hate seeing Spider-Man in a Spider-Man movie.) I’m not sure why he has to do this now instead of simply putting the suit in his backpack. I’m also not sure why he has to strip in front of her. He doesn’t even try to go somewhere private to change and she doesn’t say anything like “Why are you taking off your clothes in front of me like a retard? Go around the corner or something, fuckwit.” It’s all to set up a scene where Peter gets seen by his (sigh) rival for MJ’s heart, who takes a cell phone picture, leading us to... well, leading me to wonder why they couldn’t have put a little more thought into staging this scene so it was slightly believable? Like he could have trouble putting it on in private, the female agent could go to check on him, and Random Non-canon Character could stumble in on them that way. But anyway.

10. With literally insane ease, Peter designates Brad a target and EDITH launches a drone strike on him. For various ridiculous reasons, Peter can’t just say abort, so he eventually distracts EVERYONE by saying there are baby mountain goats, webs the drone while no one is looking, and--that works. No one notices.

Man, that’s some fucking weaksauce.

11. I’m fast-forwarding a bunch, but we seem to spend a lot of time on Peter trying to get his friends out of harm’s way for the upcoming fight scene in Prague, only for them to end up in harm’s way. For the second action sequence in a row. It seems like he could’ve succeeded and then just been trying to rescue normal civilians instead of people he knows personally, but then I guess we couldn’t have Ned and Betty/Gwen providing odious comic relief every other moment. Like, shit, Marvel, if you like dumb jokes so much, why don’t you just get Mike and the Bots to riff your movie? That’s pretty much what you’re doing anyway.

12. Peter’s new costume has no fingers on the gloves, so he’s leaving his prints everywhere. And then after the fight is over, the first thing he does is unmask and go out to get a drink with an also unmasked Mysterio in a crowded bar (hilariously, it literally turns out to be full of enemies who mean him harm). Jesus, movie, does he care about his secret identity or not? 

13. Also, again, no quips from Spider-Man. And I thought the watchword for this corner of the MCU was that he was a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Now he’s fighting giant monsters? Yeah, even if it’s a con job, it’s a con job that could potentially kill millions of people. Doesn’t that seem like absurdly high stakes, considering? Remember the first Spider-Man movie, when the only stakes at the climax were Peter saving a bus full of kids and MJ? Would that really have been better if there’d been another five million buses the Green Goblin was threatening to drop?

14. We’re doing the whole “does Peter want to be Spider-Man or not?” story again. It’s weird how markedly inferior this take on that is to Spider-Man 2. This Spider-Man has a whole spy network and AI satellites backing him up (which doesn’t stop him from remarking that Mysterio is “the only one he can talk to about superhero stuff,” as if fifty people don’t know who he is). Maguire’s Spider-Man’s life was genuinely shitty because of his superheroing; he couldn’t be with the woman he loved! This Spider-Man... can’t mack on the girl that he inexplicably has a crush on out of nowhere. Not exactly the stuff of great drama.

15. Pause to point out what a naked plot device Tony giving Peter EDITH is. He couldn’t give it to Pepper? Rhodey? Steve? Like... anyone who’s more emotionally mature and experienced? It’s just a ridiculous conceit. Supervillains literally target Peter specifically because he possesses EDITH. Way to put the crosshairs on a sixteen-year-old boy, Tony ‘Depraved Indifference’ Stark.

16. “To my very wealthy crew!” Okay, so I guess Beck isn’t just doing this for the satisfaction of being a fake superhero, he sees this as enriching him and his henchmen somehow? How? It’s not like Captain America or Scarlet Witch are fabulously wealthy. I could see Stark as paying for their room and board and giving them an expense account, but that doesn’t seem worth going to the trouble of this whole Mysterio business for. Like I said, once you have the power to pull off fake/not-fake terror attacks, that’s a golden ticket already. Why couldn’t he do shit like Le Chiffre was doing in Casino Royale, playing the stock market with his fake catastrophes? 

16a. And okay, so you say the whole Mysterio thing was just to con EDITH off of Peter. If they’re already able to pull off these terror attacks, how much more can EDITH do for them? It’s like, you already have essentially unlimited resources as far as the story’s concerned--why do you need EVEN MORE unlimited resources?

16b. And is Mysterio going to be a real superhero or fake? Like, is he potentially going to fight Thanos or someone? Because if he is, the whole Elemental thing seems like an unnecessary risk. Just find some HYDRA guys, go to town on them, bang, you’re a superhero. And if you’re going to be a fake Avenger--well, what do you do when Thanos shows up? Call in sick?

17. So in his new, definitely Miles Morales suit, Peter has the ability to send out a destructive electric charge. A venom blast. He has a venom blast. Man, they’re not even trying to hide that this is white Miles Morales, are they? 

18. To damn with faint praise, I thought the drone swarm was a good ‘real-world’ explanation of Mysterio’s power set and the ‘nightmare’ sequence was a good use of them, although it’s just the usual hallucinatory imagery you’d expect from someone with an illusion gimmick, not something as groundbreaking as the Raimi movies offered. Coincidentally, this is also the one action sequence in the movie where Peter’s in his classic costume, and that’s only an illusion Mysterio puts over his dumb Night Monkey suit. 

I also think Peter being able to survive being hit by a train more or less uninjured--he just needs a few stitches!--is a bit much, but then, that happened in Spider-Man 2.5 as well. And there they made a big deal of Peter and Ock trying to avoid getting hit by trains, so arguably that was more egregious. 

And it’s weird to have such a self-aware, genre-savvy villain just assume Peter is dead. It seems like he could’ve at least sent someone to the next station to confirm his death, or even had someone waiting there, if his plan all along was to hit Peter with a train. (Also, I’m pretty sure train conductors stop the train when they hit someone, but maybe that’s only an American thing.)

19. By the end, Mysterio decides to drop the whole illusion thing to frame Spider-Man for the drones (Peter’s friends are also put in danger yet again. Three times in one movie! That’s basically every action sequence that really happens!). I’d think disorienting people with invisible drones would be an advantage you wouldn’t want to just get rid of, but he’s the supervillain, not me. Noticeably, this plan hinges on him dying and posthumously ruining Spider-Man’s life, so...

20. Also, I complained about this with Captain Marvel, but if you’re doing a two-hour movie with a supposed character arc for Peter, shouldn’t that have something to do with him winning? He pretty much only wins because the power of spider-sense which he arbitrarily received arbitrarily works for him after arbitrarily not working for a while... and if this is some kind of confidence-powered superpowers, I should note that Spider-Man 2 already did Peter losing his powers because of losing confidence and it depicted him getting them back much more effectively. This Peter I guess only needs a pep talk from Happy Hogan.

21. I mean, couldn’t they bullshit something about hacking EDITH--you know, Peter using his wits since that’s what supposedly makes him ‘the next Iron Man’--maybe turning the tables on Mysterio with a con job of his own, instead of just winning because he happens to have an illusion-proof superpower on top of a billion-dollar supersuit and a literal global defense network? Spider-Man has a global defense network, y’all. How can you lambaste Man of Steel for making Superman dark and broody and then think Iron Man Peter Parker is a good take on the character? Geez.

#spider-man

[sunkissedpages]

33,30,36 from the first smutty prompts with royal!tom being kinda jealous of another guy whi tries to hook his girlfriend up

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole.”

“If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.“

yo it’s literally been over a MONTH and I still haven’t answered this skdjdhsh I’m so sorry ahh but here it is!! in one of your other asks you said I could choose mob!tom or royal!tom so I did it for mob!tom I hope that’s okay!!! also this is the first mob au I’ve ever written soooo :))

“Tom, slow down,” you said with a sigh, trying not to roll your eyes.

“What was he thinking?” Tom spat, not acknowledging what you had just said. He gripped the steering wheel even harder.

You watched as his knuckles began to turn white and rubbed his arm soothingly. “Baby, take a deep breath. Relax.”

He just shrugged you off and cursed at the car in front of him.

“Don’t fucking tell me to relax.”

“It’s not a big deal, Tommy.”

He actually turned his head towards you and looked at you this time. “You’re joking.”

You shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve had worse.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You winced, knowing you’d probably made it worse and that Tom was likely now picturing the grimy hands of ill-intentioned strangers all over your body.

“I should have him killed,” he snarled.

To most, that threat would sound completely ridiculous or utterly insane, but your fiancé was the head of the London mob-the South West branch anyway- and he was no stranger to violence. Having someone killed would be as easy as snapping his fingers.

You scoffed to call his bluff.

“You think I won’t?” he challenged and you groaned.

“You promised you were done with that.”

It’s true, one of the conditions of your engagement had been that Tom agree to put the more sinister side of his business to rest, and although you trusted him, in all honesty, you weren’t sure how well he was upholding his end of the deal.

“I’d make an exception.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want some poor guy’s blood on my hands.”

At that, the car screeched to a stop right in the middle of the freeway. The cars behind you honked and flashed their lights at Tom as they maneuvered to avoid a collision.

You huffed in frustration, wanting to bang your head against the dashboard. This was exactly why you didn’t like for Tom to drive himself: he pulled dangerous shit all the time like this. Literally, all of his other men had drivers who took them places and you desperately wished Tom would hire someone, but he insisted that it was safest if he was the one driving (yet here you were in the middle of the highway).

“You could’ve fucking killed us!” you shouted, more annoyed than anything.

Tom took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. But y/n, he’s not just some poor guy.”

“He was trying to get a rise out of you, Tom. He fucking hates you, of course, he’d go after me, and he was drunk.”

Tom narrowed his eyes at you, foot still pressed firmly on the brake. “That’s not a fucking excuse, you of all people should know that. Why are you trying to defend him?”

“I’m not trying to defend him, I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve to die. Can we please just get home?”

Tom relented and put the car back into motion making you breathe a sigh of relief.

Even though he didn’t say anything else you could tell his mind was still going a thousand miles a minute. You watched him chew at his lip in silence and wondered what was going on in that beautiful head of his. Nothing good, you could be sure of that.

Tom’s mind was darker than most. Occupational hazard. He carried so much pain that you hadn’t known about when you first met him. He’d let you in slowly, keeping you at arm’s length for months, until he almost lost you. And then he knew he couldn’t keep things from you anymore. It was still a challenge to understand his thought process sometimes, but you liked it that way. How could a ruthless, power-hungry mobster also be the most loving, family-oriented person you’d ever met in your life? How could someone who dropped a grand on a dinner like it was nothing secretly rather spend one more night picnicking with crappy Chinese food on the bedroom floor in your old apartment? You couldn’t think of an answer, and you didn’t want to.

The guy at the bar tonight had been some rival of Tom’s. You hadn’t seen him before, but you could tell because when Tom got up to get the two of you more drinks he swooped in and laid it on heavy. He looped one arm around your waist and placed his other hand on your knee and began attempting to seduce you. Sure, you were uncomfortable but more than anything you were angry. And tired. Tired of being used as bait, something to get to Tom.

You didn’t want to make a scene so you listened to the asshole talk about how much better he’d treat you than Tom until your fiancé eventually returned with your drinks in hand, face beet red, eyes dark with anger.

The man, you never caught his name, left the bar with a broken nose. Tom left with bruised knuckles. You’d thought it would end at that, but of course, once Tom got started it was hard for him to stop. It was a gift in the bedroom, but a curse in the rest of your life.

Then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it, Tom broke the silence in the car and said “I know what he said to you,” and it all clicked.

Normally, a hand on your shoulder, thigh, ass was enough to set Tom off, but combine that with the filthy words he’d undoubtedly overheard spilling from the man’s lips… no wonder all he could see was red.

“Tom I-“

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to start something.”

“Start something? Is that true? Or do you think he’s right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Do you think he can satisfy you better than I can?”

“Tom!”

“Well do you?”

You shook your head and rubbed your thighs together, fighting a shiver. As irritating as Tom’s jealousy could be, the effect it had on you was even more infuriating. The man could already turn you on without doing anything and whenever he started acting a little jealous it was game over for you. It was pathetic, really.

“Why the fuck did he even think it was okay to look at you, let alone touch you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged finally settling in to play the game. “These big dudes with huge muscles just think they can have whoever they want.”

Tom whipped his head back towards you. “What did you say?”

You ignored him. “I mean he definitely wouldn’t be as good as you, but he could do some damage.” Tom was full-on glaring at you now, and you wanted to tell him to keep his eyes on the road, but you couldn’t give up so fast. “I mean, just one of his hands could probably wrap around my whole neck. Like they were giant, and you know what they say about guys with big hands-“

“Do you think this is funny?”

Any sane person wouldn’t even think about taunting Tom like this, not with his reputation, but you couldn’t be sane to be with someone like Tom anyway, and besides, you knew he was a big softie at heart.

“A little,” you admitted. “You look really hot right now.”

He really did. His hair was tousled with silver highlights from the moonlight streaming in through the windshield, his creamy skin was flushed with adrenaline, and his white button-up was unbuttoned just a few times to show off his collarbone. You bit your lip. You were so fucking weak.

“That’s not going to work.”

“No?” You quirked an eyebrow and leaned over the console to see that he was already more than half hard in his dress pants. “Because it looks like it’s working.” You reached over and began to palm him through his trousers, smirking when he cursed and rolled his neck at the contact.

“Y/n, if I have to pull over, you’re not going to be able to walk for the next week.”

Oh no, that’d be horrible you thought to yourself and rolled your eyes. He had to know that’s what you secretly wanted, right? Right? Why were men so stupid?

Either way, you took your hand back and moved it up under the hem of your dress to where you were feeling a little desperate for some friction. You sighed deeply when you rubbed yourself over your panties, not even surprised at how wet you were.

“Fuck,” you hissed out and hiked your legs up onto the seat so you could give Tom a better view.

“Stop that.”

He said it so forcefully that you froze, fingers hovering over your panties, about to pull them to the side. Then you smiled.

“No.” You went ahead and did it anyway, slipping two fingers inside of yourself easily.

You weren’t one to defy Tom often, especially when it came to what he asked of you in the bedroom, but you knew how crazy it drove him and just couldn’t resist.

Tom groaned, trying and failing to maintain an angry expression. His eyes betrayed an absolutely sinful lust that made you want to melt and you wished more than anything he’d just pull the fucking car over.

“Fuck, Tom,” you gasped, “I wish these were your fingers, you’re so good with your fingers.”

“Yeah? You sure you wish they’re my fingers? Not someone else’s?”

You shook your head vigorously. “Never. You’re the only one who knows how to make me cum that hard.”

“Is that what you want? To cum hard?”

“God, yes,” you moaned, pumping your fingers in and out of you faster.

“Take off your dress.”

“What?” you weren’t sure if you’d heard him right, you were still driving down the highway after all.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Not wanting to push your luck any further you didn’t hesitate to listen this time and pulled the loose fabric up and over your head.

“Good girl,” he praised and you whined. You were still wearing your bra and underwear and as much as you’d love to flash oncoming traffic, you hoped Tom wouldn’t ask you to take them off.

“You can touch yourself,” he said and you complied, knowing it was more of an instruction than an allowance.

It felt good, really good, but you still wished it was him instead of you.

“Fuck, darling you look so beautiful like that, God, I can’t believe I get to marry you.”

“If, you stop, killing people,” you managed to get out through gritted teeth and Tom laughed.

“I’m not going to kill him, love. I made a promise. You’re too important to risk losing, even if he is a fucking prick.”

You whimpered, the mixture of complete head-over-heels love you felt for Tom and pleasure making you crumble.

“Don’t worry, love,” he said, reaching over and taking you by the wrist, stalling your movements just as you were about to fall over the edge. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget you ever met that asshole.”

1k celebration

#wazzupmrstarks1k #answered #anon #wazzupblurbs #tom holland #tommy #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #mob!tom

[geminidarksidehasawoken]

Unbreak Me

@ao719 @drakesensworld @iplaydrake @hopefulmoonobject @sashatrr @dcbbw @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad

Numb.

I sit on the bed, the doctors words floating through my head. 'Riley, you are nine weeks pregnant' the words taunt me and I want to pick at the IV access in my arm. I didn't know how to feel, apart of Liam was growing inside of me... Terrified of making the wrong choice I sought the council of Hana and Drake. It was time to face my fears. "Are you sure you want to do this" Drake asks for the millionth time, trying to make sure I wasn't pressured into the decision.

"He should know, and from there we will deal with it" I say, knowing it's the right thing to do.

"Okay, I'll call" Drake says pulling his from from his pocket.

My body hums with the anticipation of hearing his voice, the phone sounds loud in the hospital room and Hana holds my hand for support.

"Drake! Oh my gosh it's so good to hear you! I've got so much to tell you. Fuck! I thought I'd lost you too, how is she? Please, I need to know"

"She is coming around" he says blandly, and tears sting my eyes.

"I've been worried sick, but it's a relief to hear she is well." He's rambling, and I just want him to shut up. I want to reassure him that I'm okay, that I understood. But there was a part of me that didn't

"Liam, I-" Drake interjects, but it's clear he has something to say and he rambles on and I almost hate myself for doing this to him.

"I slept with Madeline, and I feel-" The words connect they feel like they reached inside to grab my soul, It cracks then shatters into nothingness and bleeds and I'm short of breath, then I go numb.

"Shut the fuck up and listen" he barks, I've never seen Drake so angry in all my life.

My eyes sting, and I force it all away, Hana squeezes my hand and I thank my lucky stars as she anchors me.

"White, I'm so sorry," Drake says after throwing his phone at the wall.

I'm not sure what is happening, but I feel nothing. Nothing at all, words slur and for the first time in months, I feel nothing. Nothing but numb...

"What for? Did you promise to never hurt me, then do the very same?" My voice is so soft and calm it should scare me but it doesn't.

"White, "

I wave away his apology, I didn't want to hear it anymore, I didn't need any excuses, it was time for me to snap back into life. He has moved on, we weren't love sick teens...

"Liam, Liam" I haven't called his name since I returned at least not aloud and it seems foreign, it tastes insipid, no more life. "I have been hell to live with for the past few weeks and I am sorry"

"Riley we understand" Hana says softly

"No, I walked into this relationship with Liam I knew what I was getting into. My baby and I will be fine"

"You aren't going to tell him?" Hana asks concerned.

"No and neither will you" I tell them with such conviction I remind myself of Olivia.

"White, this child is the future of a country, you can't do this." Drake says sounds alarmed.

"This is the truth, there are arrangements" Hana agrees

"No this child is a bastard, proof of his... of my indiscretion and my stupidity"

"White, you can't do this"

"Yes I can and I will"

"Liam deserves to know, I will be the first to admit he has been a complete assfuck-"

"Drake, I love the man, even when I hate him, but a scandal like this will shake the monarchy..."

"it would destroy him" I say calmly closing my eyes. And even though he hurt me apart of me could never hurt him this way.

*Liam*

It's been six months, six months since I've spoken to Drake. Six months since he threw his phone into the wall when I needed him. The fact of the matter was I was never the kind to kiss and tell, but Drake my best friend would often ground me when I got my head to far in the clouds.

He hasn't returned home, and his sister doesn't know of his whereabouts, she only knows he's alive.

I wanted him to be the first to know of this news, instead of the whole damn Kingdom would once again be privy to my personal life.

The camera clicks rapidly and Madeline kisses me quickly, her smile brilliant she belonged in the spotlight. I raise my hand to quite the crowd for the royal announcement, Madeline is giddy with the news but I'm terrified.

"Thank you all for coming, it's great to see all of you, and I promise to keep it brief"

The audience chuckles "My wife and I are pleased to announce that we are expecting" the applause is thunderous in the ballroom and Madeline beams at me, and I kiss her lightly" Olivia was right, I wasn't just a man, I was a king and regardless of how I yearned for another, I could be content with a wife who anticipated my every move, the press adorned her and so did the people. I have come to respect her strength and her versatility, and I cared for her.

*Riley*

My feet were swollen, my back ached like a train ran over me, I'd dozed off while Drake was rubbing my aching feet. My eyes were barely open, and I watched him watching the television intently, he was there with Madeline grinning at the camera, the television was too low so I couldn't hear the words but my eyes saw, and for the first time in months I felt something a wave of pain knocking the life out of my as I read the headline "King and Queen are Expecting!"

The pain attacked me again and I couldn't help but scream as scalding hot water, doused the chair.

"Shit White! Did your water just break?" He asked and I can tell he is nervous as hell.

I nod through the pain and he helps me up. "Okay okay! What do we do?" He asks in a panicked tone.

"Get, " it's hard to speak through the pain but I power through "my bag... AHHHHHHHH... Bag!"

The drive to the hospital was the longest I've ever had in my life, pain like no other rocked my body until finally after forever, a melodious screech reached my ears. "Mrs. Walker, you have a beautiful baby girl!" I looked down at a wailing infant, five fingers, five toes, a shaved head just like her father. I desperately wanted to see her eyes but she locked them to me. Where they blue like his? I really wished they weren't.

I lay in bed, with Drake by my side and a bundle of pink in my arms. "White, she's beautiful, thank you"

"Drake, no thank you, I couldn't have done this without you and Hana"

[aweebwrites]

Seven Deadly Sins

Warning: Swearing, suggestive themes because lust but no smut and uh, evil ninja.

_______________________

Glowing green eyes took in the hustle and bustle of New Ninjago City at night with a sneer. Everyone must be going on the merry way home to their perfect little families, to their cozy, lavish homes. He hated them. His family was nothing like theirs. He lived in an abandoned ship for fucks sake. And he had to share his room with the others. His life fucking sucks comparing to theirs. He spotted a group of teens from the 20 story building. He hates teens and kids the most. He wanted to grow up like they do. Not as suddenly as he had. One second he was a kid, thw other he went through a massive growth spurt and was suddenly grown up.

He rubbed his slightly throbbing horns that gree upwards, signaling him to be of royal blood. He didn't care much for that right now. Will the stupid pain of growing these things ever go away? He tsked before jumping the wide space between this and the next building, keeping his clawed hands tucked into his hoodie. He walked along the rooftop, his tail flicking irritably.

“Well well. If it isn't the prodigal son.” Lloyd sneered, looking across at his cousin.

“Shut it Morro. What the hell are you even doing here?” He grouched as he walked by him and Morro leaned off the air conditioning unit, his black upwards pointing horns gleeming in the city light as he followed after him.

“You know how the old man is. He worries.” Morro shrugged, using his wings to glide across to the next building as Lloyd jumped. “Also, he wants you home for dinner.”

“So he sent you of all people.” Lloyd says flatly, glancing back at him and Morro sneered, flashing his fangs.

“Don't fucking test me Lloyd. I'll blow you clean off this roof.” He growled at him and Lloyd looked at him unimpressed from over his shoulder.

“Right. And I'll fall and die. Like I don't have wings too.” Lloyd huffed, spreading his black wings he has he spoke.

“You little-”

“Let's go. The old man is pretty scary when he's angry.” Lloyd says, looking down at the city from under his nose before taking flight.

Morro growled but followed after him.

_______________

“For fucks sake Cole stop eating for five fucking seconds so everyone else can get some jeeze.” Nya growled, shoving him away from the table.

“Fuck you! The lamb was put in front of me so it's mine!” Cole growled then pushed her back, snatching the entire half lamb left and scurrying onto the ceiling before he continued eating.

“If you drop anything on my clothes, you're gonna be the one to wash them.” Zane commented, reading a book as he slouched in his chair.

“Hey, can I have it when you're done reading it?” Jay asked, leaning over to peer at the attractive looking book.

“Whatever.” Zane shrugged.

“Hey big boy… How about you and I have some fun after your meal?” Kai purred as he stroked at Cole's arm from on the ceiling with him.

“Hey! What about me?!” Jay pouted.

“I don't see why I can't indulge with the both of you…” Kai shrugged, looking up- or rather, down at him.

“Morro and Lloyd aren't back as yet it seems.” Wu says with a frown.

“They're on their way.” Nya says as she ate what she could salvage from Cole's never ending appetite.

“Speak of the devils.” Zane murmured before using a huff of breath to turn the page. “Shit. Wrong one. Oh well…” He sighed then read on.

“So glad you boys made it in time.” Wu says once they walked in.

“No thanks to Mr. Prince here.” Morro huffed as they took their seats.

“You speak as if you are not also a prince.” Wu says with a smile before taking his seat. “My brother should be here any moment now.” He says and there was a flash of purple.

“Son?!” Garmadon gasped once he appeared in the room and Lloyd looked at his four armed father with an unimpressed expression.

“You know, one would think you would have gotten used to Uncle Wu and his deception by now.” Lloyd ssys drily, looking down at his chicken dish with a sneer.

Somewhere out there, someone was having lobster and steak and caviar while he was eating this.

“I wouldn't be very effective at what I do if he did now would I?” Wu ssys with a smile.

Garmadon sighed.

“Honestly Lucifer, you-” He was cut off by being pinned against the wall by his throat, gold and red blended eyes glaring him down as his true, younger form surfaced.

“I told you not to call me that! It's Wu!” He snarled at his brother, long fangs flashing at him.

“Fucking fine!” Garmadon snarled back then pulled his arm away from his throat and threw him across the room, through the side of the ship. “But you know I despise choking.” He sneered.

“Look. We rebuilt the ship perfectly after your last fight and as much as I totally could all by myself if I wanted, I rather not. Could you take this to the Underworld?” Nya says with a sneer, tail flicking with her irritation as Wu hopped back into the Bounty.

“What are you talking about? We barely managed to piece it together.” Zane murmured, completely unphased as he kept reading.

"No thanks to you." Jay huffed, getting on the ceiling too.

“Look. Why did you call me here in the first place? Our father has gone who knows where to do who knows what and I have to rule the Underworld until he decides to come back.” Garmadon reminded him irritably.

“Well, Satan, we only wanted you to join us for a meal. When was the last time you've seen your son?” Wu huffed, talking the appearance of an elderly version of himself again.

“Literally a few hours ago. As prince of the Underworld, he can come and go as he pleases. Which he does.” Garmadon says, crossing his arms.

“I swear if you three start fucking on the ceiling again I will castrate all of you.” Morro growled, shooting the heavily making out three on the ceiling a glare.

“Fine.” Kai huffed as he stood on the ceiling. “Let's go boys.” He says, leading them off, Cole tagging along because of the promise of food at the end.

“I’m going out.” Lloyd huffed as he stood.

“Out? But you just came back.” Wu says, looking him over.

“So?” Lloyd huffed. “I don't want to hear them right now.” He says, gesturing to the room Kai, Cole and Jay moved into.

“Wanna spread some mayhem?” Nya asked them with a smirk.

“I don't see why not. I could use the entertainment.” Morro shrugged, getting up as well.

“I'll accompany you. I haven't caused mayhem here in some time.” Garmadon says as he straightened himself.

“Let's get going then.” Lloyd says to them, walking out.

“What about me?” Wu questioned.

“Stay here with those four. That's your punishment for calling me away from the throne.” Garmadon says as he stepped out as well. "And fix the Bounty!"

Wu pouted.

______________

All four of them walked through the city in different routes that would meet in the middle of the city. Lloyd glared as he walked along, hands in his pockets glowing green as he let off a thick green aura wherever he went, spreading his power over envy. He pulled a hand out to look at the glowing ball of green energy then smirked as he looked back at everyone he passed, watching a few steal what their eyes first catch or arguing and even better: fighting.

“You know what they say: sharing is caring.” He smirked as he walked along, his tail, his horns, his wings and even his powers invisible to mortal eyes. “Hey Leviathan, make sure to drop by downtown when you're done.” He says in the comms.

“I have something better than walking by, Lloyd.” Nya says with a smirk, gathering a glowing ball of water in her hands, filling it with just a mere percentage of her pride before shooting it up in the sky, creating rain.

She spotted someone about to duck for cover then.

“What? You afraid of a little rain?” She says aloud and the person stiffened before tilting their head up and walking in the rain still, the other people around her following suit.

“A perfect time for a bit of wind, don't you think?” Morro says with a smirk from the top of Borg tower.

He chuckled as his wrathful winds swept through the city, setting tensions on high through the entire city.

“And now that the pressure is so well set…” Garmadon says as he walked out next to them, looking at the green fog of his son's power being spread by Morro's winds and kept low by Nya's rain. “That spark to set things off.” He gathered his dark our powers before compressing it into an orb the size of a marble then dropped it on the city below.

Purple suddenly flooded the streets of the entire city and everything came to a standstill until utter chaos. Garmadon laughed as he watched people brawled in the middle of the streets, others ramming their cars into others, people breaking into buildings and stores, stealing, making it seem as if the world was about to end. Lloyd flew up a moment after then landed next to his father, looking down at the chaos without a smile but feeling smug seeing them all run wild, murdering and fighting and stealing.

Serves them all right. Everything won't always be perfect, pathetic mortals. Your turn to suffer too.

“Hey Lloyd, guess what I got.” Nya says as she flew up, holding take out from Chen's.

All four of them sat down on the roof, enjoy a meal as chaos reigned on.

_________________

(I haven't posted in forever because the world decided that putting obstacles in my way and watching me drown in anxiety is better. Anywho my other WIPs are hella long (LIKE 20K LONG!) so I whipped something up to buy more time to finish. It sucks and it's short because rush but eh... Sorreh guys.)

#ninjago #ninjago nya #ninjago jay #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #ninjago lloyd #ninjago morro #ninjago sensei wu #ninjago garmadon #nya smith #nya #kai smith #kai #cole #jay #jay walker #cole brookstone #zane #zane julien #morro #lloyd garmadon #lloyd #sensei wu #ninjago wu #sensei garmadon #garmadon #aweebwrites' work #plasmashipping #lavashipping

[leeholtwrites]

Red Queen: Chapter 15

So, last time I found a worthy target for some anger in an otherwise “meh” YA book. I mean, this book is really, really cliche on a level that even I can barely forgive, and I recognized that tropes are important to defining genre, but I hadn’t found anything yet that made me angry. Then Dickbag happened.

If you have a better nickname for him, please comment below.

Horse is startled awake by her servant, Walsh. I’m not sure I remember mentioning her before, but she has a servant who is a Red. And startled is an understatement. Horse almost downright Tazers the poor woman in shock.

Horse gets out of bed, trying to apologize to the woman because she’s not completely the worst, and Walsh just mouths “Rise, Red as the dawn” to her (because of course she does) before shoving a teacup of water into Horse’s hand.

“And at the bottom of the cup, a piece of paper bleeds ink. The ink swirls as I read the message, the water leeching it away, erasing any trace, until there’s nothing but cloudy, gray liquid and a blank curl of paper. No evidence of my first act of rebellion.”

Apparently the paper said “Midnight,” but that isn’t my gripe. She knows there are cameras in the room. Isn’t it going to be suspicious that she just stares into her teacup before setting it aside? Also, the thing with prisoners, especially if you have people serving her that might sympathize with her, usually trays and food are searched. So either the writer wants us to know that the king isn’t having her service checked for anything from the political dissidents running around that he knows about just in case they might contact her, or the writer is just not smart enough to think about that. 

If you couldn’t tell by now, there are a lot of similar YA set ups involving political intrigue, but the writers don’t really think things through or do their research enough to make it convincing. In this situation, someone would need to dispose of the ink-paper trick in the room filled with cameras. So unless that ink is drinkable, and someone (Horse) drinks it, what is Walsh going to do with it? 

Maybe I’m overthinking this. Whatever. It just feels stupid.

There is a new schedule on Horse’s nightstand. Horse now has training just as Cal said she would. She’s impressed that he worked so fast. As Lucas walks her to training (I’m assuming because the time line is awful at the moment) he warns her to be careful because the trainers are brutal. Then we find out he entered the army at nine.

Okay, what is with YA and child soldiers. Is that just another shortcut for Current Administration Bad? HUNGER GAMES did it to make a point, but here its just another thing for the writer - fuck it - Aveyard to be all “War is bad, m’kay?”

“But Lucas shrugs like it’s nothing. ‘The front is the best place for training. Even the princes were trained at the front, for a time.’

“‘But you’re here now,’ I say.... ‘You’re not a soldier anymore.’

For the first time, Lucas’s dry smile disappears completely. ‘It wears on you.’... ‘Men aren’t meant to be at war for long.’

‘And what about Reds?’ I hear myself ask.... ‘Can they stand war better than Silvers?’“

I’m just going to lay down right here and try not to start shredding this book. First, you train people before you send them to battle so they know what they’re doing. Second, how old are the princes? When did they go? They’re not even the age of a modern US enlistee (18). Like, what the fuck? Also, why would you stick the goddamn crown princes on the front line? Are you trying to destroy the  royal lineage?

I have been reduced to rhetorical questions. 

And then Lucas answers:

“... looking a little uncomfortable. ‘That’s the way the world works. Reds serve, Reds work, Reds fight. It’s what they’re good at. It’s what they’re meant to do.’”

Nice on the casual classism. 

“Not everyone is special.”

I wish this book understood that more, what with 3 guys lusting after our lovely protag.

Horse gets mad at him, but mostly just brushes him off. Lucas notices her feelings and warns her that he if he doesn’t have the luxury of asking questions, than neither does she, even going so far as to use her new name.

Lucas will not ask questions. Despite his black eyes, his Silver blood, his Samos family, he will not pull at the thread that could unravel my existence.

This confuses me. Her italics thought bubble at the beginning feels more like a criticism than Horse’s realization that Lucas won’t do anything that will hurt her, even going so far as to try to help her understand how silvers Silvers think and how controlling their upper echelons are. I mean, its pretty clumsily done, but I get what Aveyard was going for. The italics double don’t work because this book is in first person. We’re in Horse’s head. We don’t need thought bubbles. The whole thing is a thought bubble!

Second, “Silver blood” or “silver blood?” I feel like it should be the second. Just saying.

Lucas also continues to sympathetic, making all the woman hate even more pronounced.

Le sigh.

At training, Horse is handed what sounds like a Lycra jumpsuit before entering what sounds like my university gym. Multi-storied, lots of equipment, dozens of baby-faced young adults in better shape than I am. Of course, all those college students are more mature than most of the people in this book, and mind their own damn business.

Unlike Polarity Princess.

The moment Horse walks in, PP drops what she’s doing to mock her. She is of course joined by her mean girl club in the process. We’re spared because Horse ignores her and immediately goes to find Maven. They talk a little, mostly about what their life will entail after they leave and the ball before they leave - which leads to dancing and how Silver girls are the worst.

Maven then asks how her visit with her family went. She tells him it was difficult because she found out one of her brothers was executed before they were all released. Mavey places his hand on hers, apologizes, and says he that he’s sure he didn’t deserve it because the guy Silvers aren’t shit heads.

Then for a moment Horse thinks he might be able to read minds, which leads to this little detail:

Few silvers Silvers inherit abilities from their mothers, and no one had more than one ability.

The low key misogyny is killing me.

And if Maven turns out to be the evil prince, he’s totally going to have his moms abilities. Watch. Or at least that’s what I would do.

Hey, I never said I wrote capital L literature. 

We get some more description about powers. Shades can bend light around themselves for invisibility. Windweaver says exactly what you think it does, and that is probably the least lame power name so far, while also not belonging at all. Then you have eyes, which have limited precognition. You know, they can see the next 5 seconds or something. If I remember right (and my Teen Titan’s knowledge is rusty) Rose Wilson has that ability. I’m still confused what a silk is. They still sounds like a D&D Rogue. Or a hunska from Red Sister. (Go read that instead. It’s written by a dude and has 100% less misogyny and a 99% female cast.)

A soft voice orders them into a line, followed by an old man with Cal and a telekinetic boy. I refuse to call them “telkies.” It sounds like something I would put on a baby’s butt for diaper rash. The old man is her trainer, and apparently used to oversee executions. Turns out this was because he’s a null - he nullifies powers, or turns them off as the book puts it. 

He can reduce a Silver to what they hate most: a Red. He can turn their abilities off. He can make them normal.

All that wealth and privilege, but removing their powers can make them normal. If only it were that simple. It’s almost like this book doesn’t understand power structures at all.

They begin to run laps. Horse is happy it’s something she recognizes until it isn’t when a piece of wall swings out and slams her in the stomach. She’s startled, but manages to keep up. And before you think this is some cool tech, the telekinetic controls the pieces.

Their powers return, and a gun barrel without the actual gun part rises from the floor.

Only the telky’s power makes it move, not some greater, strange technology. The abilities are all they have.

I thought they were defined by having power and Reds having tech. Why is this a new revelation to you? Unless this is book treating the reader like an idiot again.

Horse is called forward for target practice first, and again we hear about how special she is because she can create electricity despite bio-electricity being a thing. She misses the first target but hits the second. PP is a bitch who won’t clap. The instructor moves onto the next instead of patting her on the back. I can’t tell if this is supposed to be a bad thing.

The work out calls wore her out, but she’s still happy for it. Happier for the quietness of Julian’s class, even though the moving time means she’s closer to her midnight meet up. When she arrives, he has book labeled with years. Turns out they’re death records for the war. She knows her executed brother probably isn’t in them, and makes the lamp flick on an off in her distress. Julian asks her why, and she says its the new schedule. He says she did fine today, she gets cranky about him asking to be there, and he uses her power on her to calm her down.

Horse is upset he does this, and he explains he’s the last Singer. They can control people as long as they hear them. (Found the Bards.) Julian launches into how his sister married the king for love, not by Queenstrial, and how they could talk their way to the throne, but didn’t because they’re nice.

I don’t honesty hate this, but there are so many toxic women in this book that we see on a regular basis that it makes me sad that the one that sounds non-toxic is dead.

Horse relates to Julian, mentioning Shade and how he was executed. Julian tells her that they “removed” his sister too and will do it to anyone that gets in the way. He warns her that over-throwing them would take too much planning and luck, and to not get over her head. She knows that she’s already in deep, but doesn’t tell him this.

I actually kind of liked this scene because Horse behaves like a person. Even Julian just comes across as sad and lonely. I just wish that Julian was a woman so Horse could have a relationship with the same sex that wasn’t pure hate. We don’t see her family enough to matter. I think that’s one of the things that bugs me about this book the most. Most of the women are bad, and most of the men are good. Why? Just... why?

Next time, Horse has her midnight meeting.

#reader ramble #book review #chapter by chapter #red queen #victoria aveyard #mare barrow #reds and silvers #ya #fantasy #super powers #mareena titanos #her we go again #i'm going to finish it

[proxylynn]

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #18

Chapter 18: Apprehension

WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^

It's eerily calm when Papyrus finds himself crawling out of bed. Something compels him. A strange feeling that something is amiss. He knows not but certainly will find out why. Leaving his bedroom, the great and terrible Papyrus has a very unnerving chill run up his spine. The front door is wide open and the human is absent from the living space. That stupid girl is going to lose some teeth for this. Looking around, Sans's room door is also open and the flower is strangely missing from sight. This continued to not feel right even more as he made his way down the currently frosty opening in his impregnable stronghold. Up to this point, all had been silent with not so much as even the faintest blowing of the wind. Yet once he came to where the couch sat, that's when he heard an all too familiar sound...pain. But this was not your average grunt of ache or gasping whimper, no, not the slightest. For the voice that makes this has the steadfast heart of stone Second-in-Command of the Royal Guard almost fall to his knees from the shock. Quickly he rushes outside, needing to see with his own eyes that which his hearing had picked up and refusing to believe it without further proof. But there it was, the proof he hated to see. The human has Sans in a hold to their chest, his arms locked behind his back and his eyes pleading for aid as they locked onto Papyrus. Then, before he can even piece together what to do, there's a sudden snap that ripples in a haunting echo throughout the Underground. That sound is then followed by the thud as Sans's lower-half falls to the snow before dusting. His upper-half still in the human's grasp, Sans attempts to call out but is prevented from doing so as the human grips the base of his spine and proceeds to rip it out from every other bone in his body. Papyrus watches in horror as the remaining form of his brother falls apart and scatters into dust before him. To her end, the human merely gives Papyrus a creepy smile and opens her arms to him, as if welcoming him into a sick embrace while in the dust of his sibling. Tears begin to pool in Papyrus's eyes, words fail him as he is too choked with grief to make the smallest utterance of noise. He tries to summon his magic, to strike this sack of sinful flesh down for her crime, yet he is too distraught to use it. She begins to approach, that grin becoming more sinister and frightening with each step. And for all his power, the great and terrible Papyrus found himself on the victim end of the situation, unable to make his body do anything. All he can do is helplessly watch as her eyes blacken upon reaching him, her teeth turn to serrated needles while she clasps his skull in her claw-like hands and with a small giggle she lunges to bite him!

"*GASP*!"

Papyrus awakens for real this time and drenched in a cold sweat, his bones rattling with many chills. It was a dream. A nightmare. None of that happened. No one was dead...right? The events of the nightmare still fresh in his mind, Papyrus sprang from his bed and flung his door open. Looking out into the faintly lit from outside light home, his brother's door was closed and so was the front door. The flower was asleep on the table and the human was...gone? Now he was on alert. She could be anywhere and strike at any second. He had to...

[FLUSH]

Oh...That answered one question. The sound of the sink going on and off happens before she emerges with a long yawn that nearly has her bumping into him.

"*tired* Oh...My bad. I didn't see you there. Did you need to use it?"

She points to the bathroom to which he shakes his head.

"NO, HUMAN. I HAVE OTHER REASONS FOR BEING AWAKE."

"Ah. You having trouble sleeping too?"

For a second he wondered if humans were able to read minds.

"Yeah...It sucks living with random insomnia. Though it has some perks, ya get more shit done when awake, if you have stuff to do that is otherwise you're bored as fuck. But man, does the next day or two suuuuuck."

She lets out another yawn and moves around him, aiming to head downstairs but his hand grabs her by the arm before she gets too far.

"Yeah?"

In his head, flashes of the killer thing that was her take over into this real version yet he knew better. This puny thing before him is far from the remorseless bringer of death in his nightmare.

"Papyrus?"

If he wanted to, he could do it. He could kill her without batting an eye. It would be so easy. She's weak and has low HP. One blow. That's all it would take. Yet...His hand let's go and she looks through him.

"You look like you need a distraction..."

She offers him her hand.

"I have the time if you're willing to let me help?"

He contemplates this for a bit before realizing his body was already moving with her downstairs to the living room couch. She pats the seat and he sits down albeit a tad uneasy.

"Let's see...What to talk about?"

She pats her knees in thought.

"Hmmm...You want to know more about humans, right? Ask me anything. No question is off limits."

Free information? That would be helpful. The books were insightful but most of the stuff inside made his nonexistent skin crawl. Though no sane creature would willingly give away its secrets. This could be a trap by feeding him false information. Perhaps if he worded his questions in such a way...?

"I MAY HAVE A FEW QUESTIONS."

"Lay it on me, dude."

"VERY WELL..."

A dummy question first to break the ice.

"DO HUMANS HAVE A FUNNY BONE? SANS MENTIONS IT FROM TIME TO TIME. I THINK HE'S MAKING IT UP AS AN EXCUSE TO MAKE CRAPY JOKES."

She chuckles.

"As funny as a prank like that would be, he's not making it up. Though, to be fair, the 'funny bone' is not really a bone."

"IT'S NOT?"

"Nope. If I can..."

She pulls her arm out of her shirt and holds said arm out straight, her other hand begins to point at the limb.

"In human anatomy, the 'funny bone' or as it is also known as the ulnar nerve is a nerve that runs near the ulna bone. The ulnar collateral ligament of the elbow joint is in relation to the ulnar nerve. The nerve is the largest unprotected nerve in the human body, meaning unprotected by muscle or bone, so an injury is common. This nerve is directly connected to the little finger, and the adjacent half of the ring finger, innervating the palmar aspect of these fingers, including both front and back of the tips, perhaps as far back as the fingernail beds."

He watches as the free hand takes aim and comes down on a spot around the elbow. She immediately recoils the struck arm curling and gripped by the attacking hand.

"*wince* This nerve can cause an electric shock-like sensation by striking the medial epicondyle of the humerus from posteriorly, or inferiorly with the elbow flexed. The ulnar nerve is trapped between the bone and the overlying skin at this point. This is commonly referred to as bumping one's 'funny bone'. This name is thought to be a pun, based on the sound resemblance between the name of the bone of the upper arm, the 'humerus', and the word 'humorous'. Personally, I think it's named as such in irony because pain can be funny sometimes. There's actually a German word for it. Schadenfreude: the experience of pleasure, joy, or self-satisfaction that comes from learning of or witnessing the troubles, failures, or humiliation of another. This emotion is displayed more in children than adults, however, adults also experience schadenfreude, they are just better at concealing their expressions."

Her pained hand shakily flexes a few times before the movement smooths and she puts her arm back in her shirt.

"Anything else you wish to know?"

This through his thoughts off. Either she was being honest out of being tired and her soul maturing or she was calling his bluff with a real answer before telling him lies. Maybe another question will help him figure out for sure.

"INTERESTING. NOW...THESE NERVES, WHAT FUNCTION DO THEY SERVE OTHER THAN MAKING YOU FEEL PAIN?"

"Good question. How do I put this? Uh...Oh! See the TV?"

"YES."

"Well, let's say the TV is a body and the wires inside are its nerves. Nerves allow for signals to be moved around the body. The nervous system detects environmental changes that impact the body, then works in tandem with the endocrine system to respond to such events. Like what happened with my hand. The nerve told my brain that there was pain and it reacted accordingly."

"I SEE. AND IF SOMETHING WERE TO, LET'S SAY, REMOVE THE SIGNAL ABILITY?"

"Like a sedative? Blocking of the signals would cause a temporary lack of feeling. Morphine is often used to reduce feeling when in lots of pain. But that's a safe version of doing it. Lots of animals have a means of shutting down the nervous system in a far more harmful way."

"OH?"

"Oh yeah. Neurotoxins are toxins that are destructive to nerve tissue. It can really fuck you up if not treated."

Again, she gave him information that was telling of a weakness. No sane person does this down here.

"What's with that look?"

"WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME ALL THIS?"

She tilts her head.

"You asked the question, silly. Questions get answers when answers are available."

He rolls his eyes.

"I MEAN, WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THINGS THAT I CAN USE AGAINST YOU?"

"Heh...I think it's obvious why. I want you to trust me."

"A FOOLISH AND POINTLESS REASON."

"Maybe so, but that ain't gonna stop me from trying."

"WHY?"

She smiles and pats his shoulder.

"You're a smart man, Papyrus. Yet sometimes, you can be so blind."

He shoves her off the couch and she snickers.

"YOU'RE A FREAK."

"That might be. But I'd rather be a freak than your enemy."

"AS LONG AS YOU ARE HUMAN, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MY ENEMY. NOTHING YOU DO WILL CHANGE THAT."

That changed her expression, her face losing the pep it had and becoming more sullen.

"I HAVE ANOTHER QUESTION FOR YOU..."

She didn't respond.

"HUMAN? DO NOT IGNORE ME."

She gets off the floor and moves further from him. This does not make him happy.

"BITCH, WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?"

"Leave me alone."

He growls.

"EXCUSE YOU?"

He goes to her, yanking her by her hair and earning a nasty hiss from the steadily annoying woman.

"Fuck off, I'm done trying with you."

"THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN? YOU SAID YOU'D DO THIS AS LONG AS YOU HAVE THE TIME. AND THE WAY I SEE IT, YOU STILL HAVE TIME FOR ME."

She jerks her head surprisingly hard and slips out of his hold albeit now slightly dizzy.

"I did have time."

"DID?"

She rumbles a low snarl.

"I'm going to say this once...I get it. I get you don't trust humans. You have every right not to. I don't even trust humans and I am one. My kind did and does fucked up shit all the damn time. But I'm not like them. I have been trying all my life not to be like them. I'd like to believe this is noticeable especially down here. But you..."

She crosses her arms and holds them tight.

"I have not been kind when my temper flares. I try to hold it back. And I try to do good. I really do even if it's hard. But no matter what I do, no matter if I behave or not, you still see the bad human."

Her shoulders slump and slight trembles shake her form.

"So I'm done. I'm done trying to prove anything to you. There's no point trying when the result is always the same. I'm crazy but not insane. Insanity is doing the exact same fucking thing over and over again expecting shit to change. Well, I'm not doing that. Damn it, I'm not wasting my time trying when you're not willing to do the same."

Her voice was breaking, her demeanor failing to retain any of the bitch he knows her as. She looked weak like a kitten lost in a wolf den and the watery eyes weren't helping either. Truly a pathetic sight.

"LOOK AT YOU. HOW MUCH FURTHER ARE YOU WILLING TO SINK? "

"Fuck you!"

"ARE YOU GOING TO CRY, LITTLE GIRL?"

"Piss off!"

"HEH...IF I HAD KNOWN A HUMAN GOING THROUGH SOUL MATURITY WAS THIS ENTERTAINING I WOULD'VE PUT UP CAMERAS."

"Do not mock me!"

"BUT IT'S SO MUCH FUN."

"At least I'm being real and not faking some cool-guy act like you."

That caught him off-guard.

"WHAT?"

"You heard me. Even before this stupid soul shit, I was me. Even if that me is hiding personal shit that no one is ever gonna know, it was the real me. So after doing this for so long, I can tell when someone is hiding their own personal shit. And you, sir, are masking some personal shit with an overly tough act to compensate for your inability to deal with it."

His glare came down on her hard.

"ARE YOU INFURRING THAT I AM WEAK OR WEAK ENOUGH TO HAVE A FLAW IN MY FLAWLESS CHARACTER?"

"Oh my god, what is with you boneheads and your sucky way of subtlety? Be blunt when serious. Yes! I'm outright saying you have a flaw!"

That triggered him into a particularly violent fit, one that wakes the other sleeping souls that weren't awake before when they were yelling. By the time Sans leaves his room to investigate the commotion, the carpet is stained is blood splatters and Papyrus is still in the process of breaking the unconscious human's face while the flower tries to restrain the stronger skeleton in vines to very little effect.

"pap? what the hell are ya doing?"

With a pull of blue magic, the human is flung up to the ceiling and out of Papyrus's clutches.

"PUT THAT BITCH BACK DOWN! I'M NOT DONE WITH HER YET!"

Sans rubs his face and sighs.

"this, this right here...this is why we can't have nice things."

Papyrus growls loudly.

"SHE DESERVED IT! SHE CALLED ME WEAK! INSINUATING THAT I HAVE A FLAW!"

"pap, no one is perfect. not even you. you're close though."

Papyrus's eye began to twitch.

"DON'T THINK I WON'T GIVE YOU THE SAME I DID TO HER, BECAUSE I WILL!"

Sans just shakes his head.

"it's too damn early for this crap."

A curl of Sans's fingers has the human pulled into his room and Papyrus gives chase till a series of bone walls prevent him from proceeding any further in his rampage when he rips free of the flower's vines.

"SANS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! DO NOT PROTECT THAT THING!"

"go back to bed, bro."

Sans goes back into his room and Papyrus roars in furious frustration. Riled up, Papyrus aims to take this rage out on the flower but when looking at where it once was only found it to no longer be anywhere in sight. Damn thing is a sneaky weed. So with nobody in the home to take this out on and not wanting to break anything of his, Papyrus leaves the home to look for a fool out past town curfew.

Up in Sans's room, he props the human to sit up against a wall and looks for that book on human anatomy. He was going to have to play doctor to keep her from being too fucked up to speak with Toriel on their silly phone calls. And judging by her wheezing breath he might have his work cut out for him here. The book was easy to find. The hard part would be if any skeletal pictures popped up. First things first...How much HP did she lose?

[HP ██████████ 10/36]

Not bad and it explains why she's out cold. It honestly could've been worst but sleep does heal health.

"geez, kiddo. the hell did ya say to him to earn this beating?"

Just by looking at her it's easy to say her face got the worst of it, no doubt her Papyrus hit her everywhere, but the main target was definitely her face. Black eyes are bound to form and he was pretty sure her nose wasn't always pointing awkwardly to the side before. Her lips were badly busted too and opening her mouth showed damage from impact, most notably was the large chip missing from her top left lateral incisor. There's no hiding that without professional aid. Maybe he can talk his way into getting her a gold crown to fix that like when he lost his top left canine. Man, Papyrus sucked at cooking when that happened. Nothing like taking a bite and snapping a tooth on hard solid noodles that could be considered deadly weapons. How that was even possible is beyond him.

Flipping through the book to the chapter on the human face, Sans kneels down in front of her and puts the book down beside him on the pages concerning the nose.

"let's see...how to tell if a nose is broken. the symptoms of a broken nose include pain in or around your nose...yeah, i'm betting she'd be in pain if awake. a bent or crooked nose...yep to that too. a swollen nose or swelling around the nose which can cause the nose to look bent or crooked even if it's not broken...got that one too. bleeding from the nose...not much, but yes. a stuffy nose that won't drain, which can mean the nasal passages are blocked...can't tell on that one, so, maybe. bruising around the nose and eyes...another hard one to tell that ain't part of the beating. a rubbing or grating sound and/or feeling when you move the nose...?"

Slipping his middle and index finger to lightly clamp on the nose, Sans wiggles the protruding body part side to side yet is met with a faint sound though there is little movement done. At best, it's not broken but possibly the cartilage fractured enough for a small dislocation.

"okay, buddy. here's hoping you stay knocked for this part. because this is gonna hurt like a bitch."

Placing his right hand on her face so that his thumb acts as the brace that lines up with her nasal bone he uses his left hand be the forcing tool that snaps the cartilage back into alignment with a loud pop. She weakly yelps at this but ultimately remains unconscious, to that he was grateful for so he didn't have to deal with her whining in pain. He knew she had a fairly high pain tolerance but some places break even the strongest of souls. Now for some cleanup and grabbing a cold pack to keep her face from ballooning out like, well, a balloon.

"Is she going to be okay?"

Sans nearly jumped out of his shorts at the sudden voice. Flowey's sitting where the door would've hidden him when it was open.

"how the fuck...?"

"What? Did you think I'd stay down there with HIM? I'm not looking to die tonight."

Sans merely shrugs.

"yeah, can't blame ya on that one. watch her for a sec. i gotta grab a few things real quick."

Sans teleports before Flowey can speak but is back just as fast.

"well, it's safe to go downstairs."

"What makes you say that?"

"because pap's not home."

Flowey shivers at the thought of someone bumping into Papyrus while in that rage as Sans moves the human to lay down flat with her head inclined on the end of his mattress. With a moist rag, he wipes away the blood from her face before placing the ice pack over her nose and eyes.

"that outta help with swelling and shit. now...unless you have something else to bug me with, i'm going back to bed."

Flowey shakes his head.

"good."

He throws himself onto the mattress and smothers his face into it.

"*muffled* you can stay as long as you keep quiet. so zip it."

"Okay. ...Sans?"

"*muffled*...what?"

"Thanks for helping her."

Sans remained silent after that. He didn't help her because he cared or felt sorry for her, he did it because of his promise. That's what he repeated to himself in his head at least. She's a dumb human that he just happens to be stuck watching over. That's it. So what if they relate on a lot of stuff? So what if they are tied to the same people? So what if they, on a technical level because of skeletons, are the same? So what if he touched his soul to her when he needed a fantasy to get off on? None of that mattered. Not at all. So then why...Why did it feel like he was lying to himself?

[Meanwhile: somewhere in the woods]

The great and terrible Papyrus found no one to take his anger out on but there are plenty of trees to do that to. Many a strong thick trunk was splintered in twain after feeling the rage of a skeleton in need of venting. He had a spot for this, one that was oddly in his memory but he was never quite sure why or how. He just knew to always come here to get away from the world when he needed to. By the time he had calmed down about a dozen trees laid about in the snow. The feeling of exhaustion after exerting so much energy was a relief to the fire in his soul.

How dare that human insinuate that he was flawed. How dare Sans say he was only close to perfection. He IS perfect! No one comes close to his level of greatness. Every guy would love to be like him. No monster in town is as admired as him. Everyone's awed and inspired by him. No one's as slick as him. No one's as quick as him. No one's neck is as incredibly stiff as his. For there's no male in town half as manly as he! Perfect, a pure paragon! No one cook's as well as him. No one breaks hearts like him. He's much more than the sum of his parts. As a specimen, yes, he's intimidating. But that's his best quality. No one fights like him. No one uses magic like he does. And in a wrestling match, nobody bites as hard. When he hunts he sneaks up with his saber and strikes from behind. Is that fair? He doesn't care. No one hits like him. Matches wits like him. No one has brains like him. Entertains like he does. No one can make up these endless refrains like he can. He's a man among men. He's a super success.

There's one guy in town who's got all of it down and it's him. So then why...Why does it feel like a lie?

Papyrus wanders his way back home. Strangely, the trees will be restored later. He had a guess that the Gyftrot in the area did this. A creepy ass deer monster that tends to the woods. It has a habit of attacking weak or unsuspecting monsters out of revenge due to some teens having stuck damaging trash to its body such as beer bottles, a ball&chain, barbwire, etc. Some have offered it aid yet were attacked due to lack of trust. Not that anyone blames it for doing so.

Upon his return, the house is still and no one is in sight. Papyrus locks the door before going to his room, not like he'll be able to sleep much this night. Between the nightmare and his mental/emotional state after the fit, the only way he'd find rest would be if he were to bash himself unconscious like he did the human.

The human...That pathetic little fool.

She is the cause of all this. If she wasn't around he wouldn't be having these issues. If she wasn't the under the Queen's care than he'd be promoted to Captain for turning in the last soul to grant them freedom. If it wasn't for her he would have everything he's ever wanted. She needs to learn a harsh lesson for this. For interfering with his hopes and dreams, a price must be paid. All he has to do is wait for his chance to strike. And if Papyrus is anything, he is very patient when it comes to getting revenge.

[Hours pass]

Sans slowly stirred to the satisfying smell of bacon leaking into his room. A lazy yawn and bone popping stretch were his greetings to this new day. The flower remained asleep across the room and the human was gone, the melted ice-pack laid flopped on the floor. The girl was cooking that good shit. This is how days are supposed to start. Picking up the flower, Sans leaves his room and follows the tasty smell hickory smoke to the kitchen but became immediately confused when he looked inside. The human is not the one making breakfast. It's Papyrus. Not only is Papyrus cooking but he's cooking foods that he would never cook, such as the bacon and waffles. This is a red flag.

"uh...pap?"

Papyrus barely looks away from his cooking.

"GOOD, YOU'RE AWAKE. SAVES ME THE TROUBLE OF BANGING ON YOUR DOOR."

Sans put the flower down on the table.

"so...how are ya feeling?"

"FINE. WHY DO YOU ASK?"

"last night ring any bells?"

Papyrus scoffs.

"THAT WAS A MOMENT OF TEMPORARY WEAKNESS THAT SHAMES ME. I AM BETTER THAN TO LET SOMETHING SO STUPID GET TO ME. IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN."

"then you're cool now?"

"COOL? NO...I'M THE COOLEST. YOU KNOW THAT."

Red flag warning! Papyrus in a good or chummy mood never means something pleasant for anyone.

"GO FRESHEN UP, SANS. THE FOOD WILL BE READY SHORTLY."

Something isn't right.

"pap..."

"HMMM?"

"where's the human?"

Papyrus doesn't respond but a small smirk graces his skull. Major red flag alert!

"pap?"

"SHE IS FINE IF THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE CONCERNED ABOUT."

"what did you do, papyrus?"

Papyrus removes the bacon from the pan and lays the strips on multiple paper towels.

"I HAVE DONE NOTHING."

"then where is she?"

"I GAVE HER THE DAY OFF."

"pap?"

"SHE HAS IT EASY TODAY. NO ONE WILL BOTHER HER AND SHE WON'T HAVE TO LIFT A FINGER FOR ANYONE."

"pap, i swear, toriel is going to kill us both and torch the town if that kid is hurt more than what you already did last night."

Papyrus turns to his brother and looks at him sternly.

"SANS...WHEN I ENTERED THE ROYAL GUARD, I SWORE FEALTY TO THE CROWN AND THE HEADS THAT WEAR IT. EVEN IF THE QUEEN IS NO LONGER ON THE THRONE, SHE IS STILL THE QUEEN AND MARRIED TO THE KING. I WOULD END MYSELF BEFORE EVER BREAKING MY OATH. SO RELAX AND BELIEVE ME WHEN I TELL YOU THAT I HAVE DONE NO HARM TO THAT GIRL."

Sans wants to believe him. His brother is just as strict about promises as he is. But he also knows Papyrus for being deceitful. It's really a coin flip when it comes to Papyrus. Sans makes a tough call.

"fine, bro. i trust you."

"GOOD. NOW GO WASH UP. WE LEAVE AFTER EATING."

"...can you at least tell me where she is?"

"I CAN ASSURE YOU, SHE HASN'T LEFT THE HOUSE."

"and grillby? what do we tell him?"

Papyrus removes the last of the waffles from the iron.

"I WILL DEAL WITH HIM. NOW, DON'T MAKE ME TELL YOU A THIRD TIME."

Sans concedes to Papyrus and heads for the bathroom. The brothers feast before leaving for work, not bothering to plate any scraps for the flower or human wherever she might be. Not surprising, Grillby didn't trust the situation as much as Sans when Papyrus explained why the human was not with them this day. Though it's not like anyone had much of a choice in the matter considering the one person that knew where she was wasn't exactly up for giving away her location. The first chance he was given, Sans was going to take a shortcut and search the property. There aren't many places Papyrus could've hidden her. Hell, he was willing to bet gold that she was chained in the shed. But if that's the case, why not just tell him that? Why was Papyrus being all secretive about it? This made Sans very uneasy.

[Meanwhile: later in an undisclosed location]

My senses slowly return and consciousness becomes aware of the sound of ticking along with the odd taste of rubber. Sight, however, is not one of those senses that come back yet judging by rubbing on my eyes I'd say something is covering them like a blindfold. Then that means the rubber taste is from a gag of some sort. Great. Just great. If this is that thing Mettaton was planing I swear to dismantle the guy. And whatever that ticking sound is it is annoying as fuck!

[CREAKING]

The hell? I turn my head to follow the sound but can't. I try moving my arms and legs, but the result is the same. I'm restrained by what feels like leather to something wooden. The hell is going on?

[DOOR HINGE SQEALING]

This isn't funny. How the hell did this even happen? Last this I remember was trying to get a drink of water than it all went dark. The sound of boot steps tells me this captor is approaching. What sort of asshole was brave enough to break into the skeleton house and think it was clever to abduct me?

"IMPRESSIVE...I WAS EXPECTING YOU TO BE TREMBLING WITH FEAR BY NOW."

If I could blink in perplexity I would. I know this voice. The great and terrible asshole!

"*growls*"

Papyrus merely scoffs in amusement.

"CUTE. AT ANY OTHER TIME I WOULD CONSIDER YOUR DEFIANCE THE KINDLING TO A FIRE I'D ROAST YOU ON, BUT RIGHT NOW..."

He touches my neck and I flinch at the cold contact, making him chuckle.

"RIGHT NOW, YOU ARE AT MY COMPLETE AND UTTER LACK OF MERCY."

"*snarls*"

He grabs my jaw in one hand to make me look forward, or whatever I think is forward. How would I know? I'm blindfolded!

"HMMM...SO THAT'S WHERE THAT SPLINTER IN MY KNUCKLES CAME FROM."

Confused, I feel around the gag with my tongue and find a space.

"*muffled*"

"BY THAT REACTION, I TAKE IT YOU DIDN'T KNOW. DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. IF ALL GOES WELL, I MAY REWARD YOU WITH A REPLACEMENT. AFTER ALL, WE CAN'T HAVE THE QUEEN SEE SUCH A SIGHT."

He jerks my head harshly out of his grip.

"BUT ONLY IF YOU EARN IT."

Not gonna lie, the first thing my brain is thinking this is will be some freaky sex thing. But I know better than to know that's the thing. Papyrus is not that kind of dude...I hope.

"*muffled*"

"I'M GOING TO ASSUME YOU ARE QUESTIONING ME AS TO HOW YOU GOT HERE, WHERE HERE IS, AND WHAT IS GOING ON. SIMPLE REALLY. YOUR LITTLE FIT LAST NIGHT LEFT ME IN A RATHER ROTTEN MOOD. SO..."

He moves away and that ticking sound quickens.

"I WAITED TILL YOU EMERGED FROM SANS'S ROOM. AND WHEN YOUR BACK WAS TURNED, I RENDERED YOU UNCONSCIOUS WITH A QUICK HIT AND BROUGHT YOU HERE. WELCOME...TO MY TORTURE CHAMBER!"

A dramatic score plays as he laughs evilly. That's fucking adorable. He's got a sound system in here.

"YOU MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO ENJOY HOW GLORIOUS THIS ROOM IS, BUT I ASSURE YOU IF YOU COULD SEE IT YOU WOULD BE HORRIFIED."

Then what's with the blindfold?

"BUT THEN YOU'D KNOW WHERE YOU ARE AND MIGHT TRY TO MAKE SOUND. AND I CAN'T HAVE YOU ATTEMPTING TO ALERT ANYONE."

Oh...Makes sense.

"AS FOR WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO YOU HERE...NYEH HEH HEH HEH...I THINK YOU HAVE A GOOD ENOUGH IMAGINATION TO COME UP WITH A FEW INTERESTING THINGS THAT COME FROM BEING IN A TORTURE CHAMBER."

I scoff.

"OH? YOU DON'T THINK I'M SERIOUS?"

There's movement near my feet and something is making a cranking sound. Shortly after this, my wrists and ankles feel tugging. This is where it hits me. I know what I'm on. I'm on a Rack! I kick to get his attention and it works to pause the cranking.

"SOMETHING WRONG, HUMAN? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS?"

I nod as best I can.

"AH. THEN YOU KNOW JUST HOW DEADLY THIS CONTRAPTION IS. YET DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHY IT IS?"

I do my best to shrug. I know why. But there are many types of Racks and I don't know them all.

"WELL THEN...ALLOW ME TO ENLIGHTEN YOU."

He's moved away again and that ticking is even faster. God, what the fuck is that?!

"A RATHER FINE PIECE OF EQUIPMENT, DON'T YOU THINK? THE RACK, A BEDLIKE OPEN FRAME SUSPENDED ABOVE THE GROUND USED FOR INTERROGATION AND TORTURE. THE VICTIM'S ANKLES AND WRISTS ARE SECURED BY ROPE OR CHAIN THAT PASSES AROUND AXLES NEAR THE HEAD AND THE FOOT OF THE RACK. THIS ONE, A MODLE OF MY OWN DESIGN, ONLY HAS ONE AND IT'S IN THE MIDDLE TO EVENLY PULL BOTH AT ONCE. FOR EXAMPLE..."

The crank is turned and I growl at the unnecessary turn.

"WITH EACH TURN, YOUR LIMBS ARE STRETCHED FARTHER AND FARTHER APART. EITHER YOUR MIND OR YOUR BODY WILL BREAK FIRST, BUT WHEN YOUR BODY DOES BREAK, IT HAPPENS IN A SERIES OF HORRIFYING STAGES. FIRST YOUR LIMBS DISLOCATE, WHICH MEANS YOUR BONES WILL POP OUT OF THEIR JOINTS. YOU'LL KNOW WHEN THIS HAPPENS BECAUSE YOU'LL HEAR A LOUD CRACK. EVERYTHING WILL STILL TECHNICALLY BE ATTACHED, BUT YOU'LL HAVE A VERY TOUGH TIME MOVING FROM THIS POINT FORWARD. BUT THIS IS MERELY THE NICE PART OF THE RACK."

I title my head in question and the feel of his hand on my arm makes me flinch.

"WHILE IT IS A COMMON PRACTICE TO DISLOCATE THE LIMBS OF SOMEONE ON THE RACK, THINGS COULD GET MUCH, MUCH WORSE FOR THOSE BEING TORTURED. TYPICALLY, RACK TORTURE IS A DRAWN OUT AFFAIR. AFTER ALL, JUST THROWING THE DEVICE INTO HIGH GEAR WOULD END THINGS PRETTY QUICKLY. WHERE'S THE FUN OF THAT? BUT IF DONE FOR LONG ENOUGH, EVENTUALLY, IT COULD GET SO BAD THAT LIMBS WOULD BE COMPLETELY TORN FROM THEIR SOCKETS. AS IN, YOUR ARM WOULD BE COMPLETELY RIPPED OFF YOUR TORSO."

He clutches my arm and digs his claw-like fingers in the flesh.

"AFTER THAT HAPPENS, ODDS ARE YOU'LL BLEED OUT PRETTY QUICKLY. LUCKY FOR YOU AT THAT POINT YOUR TORTURER KNEW YOU WEREN'T GOING TO GIVE THEM WHAT THEY WANTED AND DECIDED TO KILL YOU. TRULY KILLING WITH KINDNESS."

I shiver and he lets go, the cool feel of liquid is felt. He drew blood.

"HOWEVER...EVEN IF YOUR JOINTS WEREN'T DISLOCATED AND YOUR LIMBS WEREN'T TORN FROM THEIR SOCKETS, THERE'S A GOOD CHANCE YOU'D BE COMPLETELY CRIPPLED FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. THE REASON IS THAT PROLONGED TIME IN A RACK CAN TEAR YOUR MUSCLES AND NERVES APART. SO, EVEN IF YOU NEVER ACTUALLY LOSE YOUR LIMBS, THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU'LL BE ABLE TO USE THEM WHEN THE TORTURE IS OVER. IF I DO LET YOU GO, YOU'D STILL ESSENTIALLY BE A QUADRIPLEGIC."

The crank is turned again and the instinct of this movement has me thrash weakly. He laughs smugly.

"FOR A DEVICE THAT IS SO SIMPLE, THE RACK IS ACTUALLY A VERY PRECISE INSTRUMENT. THE WAY THE ROPES ARE SECURED AROUND YOUR HANDS AND FEET MEAN THAT THE I CAN STRETCH YOU EXACTLY AS MUCH AS I INTEND TO. THAT MEANS THAT AT ANY GIVEN POINT, YOU'RE IN THE PRECISE AMOUNT OF PAIN THAT I WANT YOU TO BE IN. WHETHER THAT PAIN IS A MERE STINGING OR THE FEELING THAT YOUR ARMS ARE ABOUT TO POP OUT. IT IS UP TO THE ONE TURNING THE GEARS. AND THAT, HUMAN, IS ME."

The gulp I make is both done out of need and fright. Between that ticking and his eerily calm tone, my brain doesn't know how to handle the limited stimuli it's getting. Things are half on and half off. Synapses popping like corn in a microwave set on nuclear. I'm panicking...I'm panicking...I am freaking out here!

"*muffled roaring*"

"HEH HEH...LOOK AT YOU. I HAVE DONE THE BARE MINIMUM IN MESSING WITH YOU AND YOU ARE ALREADY A MESS. IF THIS WAS FOR REAL, I COULD GET YOU TO DO ANYTHING I WANT..."

He clasps my head in both his hands to stop my fighting on the binds.

"AND YOU ARE POWERLESS TO STOP ME."

I can picture it. The smug powerful face he must be boasting. I hate it!

"YOU DON'T LOOK SO WELL, HUMAN. WOULD YOU LIKE THIS ALL TO STOP?"

The pleading whimper I make is humiliating.

"THEN YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT TO HEAR. WILL YOU SAY IT?"

I nod.

"GOOD. I'M GOING TO REMOVE THE GAG."

His hands slip behind my head and there's a click sound before the gag is pulled off.

"NOW THEN...SAY IT."

I'm trembling. Everything is moving to my senses. I want it to stop.

"P-Please..."

"PLEASE WHAT?"

"P-Please...make it s-stop..."

"MAKE WHAT STOP?"

I gnash my teeth.

"That fucking ticking! Make it stop! For the love all that that is decent, make the ticking stop!"

He sighs and shoves the gag back on me, re-locking it in place.

"CLOSE, HUMAN. SO CLOSE. BUT YOU STILL HAVE WILL THAT NEEDS TO BE BROKEN."

I yell into the gag and he slaps me hard.

"YOU WILL LEARN YOUR PLACE. AND IT SEEMS YOU'VE GIVEN UP YOUR BIGGEST WEAKNESS."

He moves away to wherever that ticking is coming from and increases it. This has me thrashing harder and yelling into the gag louder.

"I WILL RETURN ON MY NEXT BREAK. YOU SHOULD BE MORE COMPLIANT BY THEN. AND EVEN IF YOU'RE NOT...IT WILL STILL BE FUN."

No! Don't you fucking leave me like this! Papyrus, you coward! Get back here!

His boot steps lead away and I roar as angrily as I can before coughing in soreness. The door is closed and I thrash as hard as I can as he leaves. This is bullshit! If he thinks I'm staying here any longer with that god forsaking ticking than he's got another thing coming! I'm not sure how long I do this for. Could be seconds, minutes, or hours. Time is something I can't grasp right now. But when enough time passes and my restraints haven't given me any slack, I know my efforts are in vain. I have no choice but to surrender. I can't break free. No one can hear me. I'm going to be stuck here for who knows how long. Papyrus is going to break me. Yet I'm not sure if my mind will hold up before my will ends.

{Really? You're giving up?}

I'm sorry, but do you see my current state? Because I can't!

{But giving up? That's not like you. Since when do you let something like a little abuse from Papyrus get to you?}

Chara I am not in the mood to talk. God, what is making that fucking ticking noise?!

{Oh that? There's a metronome going nuts a few feet away.}

That clever son of a gun. He must've known that the prolonged ticking is just as bad as the Chinese water torture but less messy. The constant sound hollows out the mind in madness. Brilliant.

{You know, I've never understood that saying. Son of a gun? Guns can have sex and make babies?}

Some say that the origin is 'son of a military man' but, whether this is the correct origin or not, the phrase is no longer used to convey that meaning.

{...What?}

This strand is that the British Navy used to allow women to live on naval ships. Any child born on board who had uncertain paternity would be listed in the ship's log as 'son of a gun'. This is attestable fact as, although the Royal Navy had rules against it, they did turn a blind eye to women, wives or prostitutes, joining sailors on voyages, so this has plausibility on its side as the true origin.

{Why do you know these things?}

I get so inquisitive when bored! Argh! Can't you do something about that damn thing?

{I'm dead. What do you think I can do?}

You're a spirit! You can do shit that effects the physical world.

{No I can't.}

Dude, you are no different from Blooky.

{He's a monster ghost. His magic fuels him. I don't even have a soul, dingus. I have no fuel.}

...Did you forget the part where you use my energy to do stuff?

{...Maybe.}

Take my energy and get to poltergeist level. You can move stuff, talk with a voice, and form a body.

{...Really?}

Dude, ghost rules are weird enough that I don't have to make stuff up. Basically, you're going to drain energy from me and whatever is battery or electrically powered down here. With enough of it, you should be able to manifest in some way. A full-body apparition is like max level. But all you need is enough to break that damnable thing or better yet, undo some of these restraints.

{Huh...Will this hurt you?}

Shouldn't. I'll be super tired though. But that's nothing a nap won't fix.

{Okay. I'll try. But if something goes wrong, you snap your fingers and I'll stop.}

I give a thumbs up and wait for Chara to begin. Slowly, I start to feel colder and things, in general, are getting sluggish. I've never heard of a case of a spirit draining the energy from a person to the point of death, so I'm not worried about that. But I would like...to be able...to...think...clear...ly...

[Meanwhile: inside the skeleton household]

She had to be somewhere. There aren't many places Papyrus could've hidden her. Sans knew she had to be close. He had already checked the shed, Papyrus's room, and the spare room with the balcony. She wasn't there, or the laundry room, or even that weird space under the sink where that annoying dog sometimes hides. But nope. Not a trace of her was around that didn't look like a weed, who is also not helpful in this situation what with all its annoying questioning. Where the hell could Papyrus had put her?

*muffled roar*

That...That sounded close. But...under the floor? Seconds shortly after that a door is shut somewhere and now Sans has an idea of what is going on. He waits a couple of minutes before heading outside and catching a glimpse of Papyrus heading out of town towards their stations. Now he knew where to look. Sneaking around to the back of the house and entering the dumbest password code on the lock, Sans makes his way down into Papyrus's basement of unpleasantness. He didn't like coming down here. It was overcompensating in the intimidating department to an unnecessary degree. Not that it scared him, no. He just hated having to dance around all the stupid chains and miscellaneous metal crap that would alert Papyrus that he was ever there. But if he can make sure the human is at least alive and in one piece then a quick look couldn't hurt. All he needs to do is open the second door, turn on the lights, and he should see her in whatever thing Papyrus put her in. He just hoped it wasn't the iron maiden. So when the door is opened and the lights turn on, Sans does see her. And someone else. Someone dead.

A male human child fiddles with a restraint holding one of Lynsie's wrists till he notices the lights turn on and looks at the skeleton. The boy is pale skinned, has bright pink cheeks, piercing red eyes, as well as light brown hair, and dressed in a red sweater with a black stripe across the middle, black pants, and brown boots.

"Uh...H-Hi?"

Sans was frozen on the spot. At least, he was until the flashbacks kicked in. That face. That sweater. It triggered his memories of Frisk.

"no...no, no, no, no! not again! i ain't going through that shit again!"

The boy waves his hands defensively but that doesn't stop the images flashing in Sans's mind. In his eyes he sees Frisk. A small child with short brown hair, light yellowish skin, wearing a black sweater with two red stripes in the middle, dark brown pants, and black shoes.

"Hey now...Just relax and don't do anything crazy."

"no...no, no, no, no, no! not again! i ain't going through that shit again!"

The boy moves away from the restrained woman, a show no ill will and concern for the safety of the other person. Sans didn't interpret this in that way. In his head, he sees this as the boy getting ready to fight. The basement walls began to change in his eyes. Gone was his home and the girl. All he saw now was Frisk standing across from him in that golden hall of judgment. The boy appeared to be nervous.

"Sans...I know this looks weird, but I swear, nothing bad is happening."

His bones were rattling. Seething with pent up rage.

"it's a terrible day outside."

The boy's eyes widen.

"Sans, please! You need to snap out of it! This isn't the Judgment Hall!"

"birds are silent, flowers are dead..."

"Sans!"

"on days like these, kids like you...Should be burning in hell!"

Sans's left eye flares red and bones start coming out of the ground. But as usual, the kid avoids the attack...for now.

"Snap out of it, Sans! I'm not Frisk!"

"ah, what's the matter? are you having a bad time? because i'm having a great fucking time!"

He was lost in it now. Not even when his bones hit the chains in the room did it bring him out of this trance. Such a terrible event was burned deep into his mind and even his very soul.

"i thought i told you...if we're really friends...you won't come back! how many times do i have to kill you before you stay dead?!"

The kid was good at dodging, but everyone has limits, and the kid reached theirs faster than he expected. Bones go right through the child and it evaporates from sight, leaving him with many freaky questions as the Judgment Hall melted away to his basement once more. But first...he needs to calm down. Sweat was rolling off his skull, he was close to hyperventilating even though he had no lungs, and his hands were shaking. It takes a bit before he's able to get his magic under control again and his eye reverts to normal.

"*groan*"

Oh for fuck's sake! What now?

The reason for his being down here starts moving. Her hand slips from its restraint and messes with something behind her head before she spits out a gag.

"*tired groan* Fuuuck that feels better. My jaw was locking up. *yawn* You okay, Sans?"

She...She was conscious this whole time?

"y-yeah...yeah, i'm fine, kiddo."

"I take it you saw Chara."

He flinches.

"kinda. h-how did he...?"

"He's haunting me, remember? I let him take my energy to manifest for a bit."

Human say what?

"uh...why?"

She pops her jaw side to side to relax the stiffness the bone has.

"For one, to stop that damn metronome. And two, to let me loose."

"metronome?"

Just off to the side is the musical tool in question.

"Yeah. Papyrus had that thing melting my mind with that incessant ticking. It's was so evil!"

"yeah, that sounds like something pap would do."

"So...Am I being set free or are you checking on me for him?"

A very good question.

"i...i'm still thinking about that one."

"Oh. Well...Can you at least get this thing to slack? I, uh, rather not lose the ability to use my limbs."

"that i can do."

A simple pull of the release lever relaxes the ropes and she sighs to action.

"Thank you."

"don't thank me yet. i might have to reset this whole thing pap did."

She slaps her face and he sits on the rack by her legs.

"For real? Do you really have to?"

"he'll know i had something to do with you being free if i let you out. and i ain't about to be on his shit list."

"Aren't you the older brother? Why are you bowing down to him when he should be looking up to you?"

He punched her side at that.

"don't talk about crap you don't know. that's probably why you're down here in the first place."

"Just being honest."

"try being less honest. it'll keep you from being hurt."

"Noted, but I make no promises on that."

He snorts a small laugh. If only he could do that.

"Oh...Do I have a chipped tooth? Because it feels like I do."

"pap did a real fine job on ya last night."

"Toriel is going to lose her shit."

"not if we fix it."

"True."

"so...that trick you did with ghost boy."

"Yeah?"

"don't do that again."

She chuckles and her free hand reaches for him but can't reach.

"what are you doing?"

"Trying to grab your hand."

"heh...why?"

"Because that's what a friend does when their buddy needs to know things will be okay."

That took a moment to sink in. She was offering him support. A weird gesture down here and one that would result in ridicule. But...No one will know about this. It's not like he'd tell anyone. And it's not like she can see him either. The blindfold Papyrus used encapsulated the top of her head, she wasn't seeing diddly squat. So...why not humor her a little to soften the blow of having to leave her here? He scoots over just a little bit but is still hesitant.

"Almost there, buddy."

"don't rush me."

"What? You worried I'll give you cooties?"

"don't be lame."

"Then take my hand, bone-man. Or are you chicken?"

"what did i just say about being lame?"

"Bawk bawk bawk bagawk...Chicken."

"i'll show ya who's chicken!"

He snatches her hand tightly.

"see? i ain't no chicken."

"Heh, yeah, you sure proved me wrong."

Only now does he realize that he fell for that child's trick. He slaps himself with his free hand. Then something pulls his attention away from feeling stupid and more towards the 'what the fuck' area. Her thumb is slowly stroking the bones of his hand.

"what are you doing now?"

"I'm trying to remember the names of these bones. It's been a while since I thought about'em."

"ya really know'em?"

"Just give me a sec..."

Her hand holds his in her cupped palm and her thumb rests on the tip of his middle finger.

"Finger digits contains four bones while the thumb has three. This tip is the distal phalanx. Man, that's sharp."

He smirks.

"we skeletons might not have nails, but that don't mean we can't have claws."

She whistles impressed and a tiny blush of pride comes to him as her thumb trails down.

"Next is the middle phalanx, followed by the proximal phalanx, and then the metacarpal that leads into palm."

Her thumb makes small circles in his palm.

"Eight carpal bones. I'm probably gonna get the order wrong but..."

Her thumb goes over each bone and pauses when she speaks.

"Trapezium...Trapezoid...Capitate...Hamate...Pisiform...Triquetrum...Lunate...and the Scaphoid."

He grins.

"you were right, ya did get the order wrong. but those are the names. can you name the joint in there too?"

"Uhhh...Fuck! I know what you're talking about. It's on the tip of my tongue...God, it's got a stupidly long name."

"scaphotrapeziotrapezoidal joint."

"That's it. Man, who names this shit?"

"heh...fuck if i know."

Her hand moves to align with his, palm to palm.

"heh...what's got you so brave? you're not like this normally."

"It's easier to do things when I can't see if you're pissed off."

"*chuckles* i bet."

"I like this."

"can't say it's not nice to talk bone with someone that isn't pap."

"I guess that makes you a bone-afide expert."

"heheheheheh...and here i was thinking i was the only humerus one here."

His fingertips dig into hers and feel into the dull rounded bone beneath her skin until they slip to wind up intertwining. This caused a bit of alarm in the skeleton but not so much for her for obvious reasons. He tries to pull away, memories of a certain sinful night crawling on his back, but her grip tightens.

"h-hey! let go of me!"

"I can't."

"why not?!"

"Because you're freaking out and I have a skele-ton to tell you."

The pun helped a little bit. It made him stop trying to rip her hand off. But it didn't stop his uneasy vibe.

"then tell me already. i gotta get going before pap finds out i'm gone."

A very true thing to be concerned about.

"Okay..."

Her hand lets his go yet he could feel it tremble as it left his. It got his attention.

"lynsie?"

"Sans...Something happened the other day at Grillby's."

"was it your soul?"

She shakes her head.

"No. I got a weird phone call."

"from who? you hardly know anyone and only got two numbers in your phone."

"You've looked in my phone? What are you, my possessive boyfriend?"

That offended him in more ways than one.

"ya got five seconds and i'm out."

"Don't be that way."

"three..."

"Will you cut that out!"

"times up."

"Mettaton!"

Human said what now?

"'It was Mettaton! He traced my phone number from the other night."

This ain't good.

"what did he..."

[RING-RING]

His phone goes off.

"shit, it's pap. don't make a sound."

A simple thumbs up was her silent reply as he answered his phone.

"h-hey, boss."

"SANS, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?! YOUR BREAK ENDED FIVE MINUTES AGO!"

"s-sorry, boss. i guess i lost track of time. i'm on my way."

"FOR YOUR SAKE YOU BETTER BE."

[CLICK]

Sans rubs his skull and sighs.

"you and me are gonna have a nice long chat later."

"I know."

"ugh...i need a break from all this. just one day. is that really so much to ask for?"

"No, not at all. Oh!"

"what now?"

"I just had an idea."

"about?"

"It's a surprise."

He frowns.

"i'm not a fan of surprises."

"Trust me. This is something I know you'll like."

He had a bad feeling about that. Yet now wasn't the time to question her any further. He needed to get back to his post before Papyrus destroys it...again. But first, he had to fix the things Chara had undone. She is, of course, not too happy about this. Yet, understandably, she resigns to being once more gagged and bound for time unknown while a metronome ticked away like a madman. Thankful for her, he did grant her one kindness in all this and knocked her out so her mind wouldn't be lost any more than it already is, which is entirely possible at this point what with so many blows to the head. For real, she might have brain damage, it's not healthy to take so many shots to the head and sleep through it all.

[Hours pass]

Sans follows Papyrus home, another long day spent without seeing another human and one waiting at home. So far, Papyrus didn't suspect him of anything or at least didn't come off as he did. So when Papyrus breaks away to go to the back of the house Sans isn't really sure if he should just go inside.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"uh...nothing?"

Papyrus stares at him before dismissively continuing.

"GO INSIDE, SANS."

Sans rubs his skull and does as told, heading inside to await whatever is to come.

Papyrus had a clue Sans did something. His brother's concern for the human has been a growing issue that he is less than amused by. So when he reached the back door and found the security lock was deactivated, it only cemented his suspicions. He had a feeling she was going to be walking around either down here or upstairs. He was going to make them both pay when he got a hold of them. Yet, he finds himself surprised when he turns on the lights and sees her still on the Rack. in fact, nothing seemed out of place from when he left. The metronome was still ticking, she was still gagged, the restraints were still tight, the crank was...loosened?

"*SIGH* GOD DAMN IT, SANS..."

He stops the metronome and goes to her, taking note of her lack of awareness of his presence.

"WAKE UP, MORON."

He slams his hand on the table and she jumps to life.

"DID YOU HAVE A PLEASANT ENOUGH NAP?"

She shrugs and he groans.

"YOU SLEPT THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS GONE, DIDN'T YOU?"

Her hand motions to sign 'only a little bit'.

"ANSWER ME HONESTLY AND I WILL LET YOU EAT FOR THE FIRST TIME TODAY. WAS MY BROTHER DOWN HERE?"

She is hesitant.

"I COMMEND YOUR LOYALTY. A VERY GOOD TRAIT AND IT'S GOOD TO SEE YOU HAVE IT FOR MY BROTHER. BUT YOU FORGET WHO YOUR MASTER IS."

His hand grips her throat and squeezes, making her thrash at the constriction of her airway.

"NOW ANSWER ME, PET!"

His free hand slips behind her head to release the gag.

"SPEAK!"

"*choking* If you are...asking that...question...you already...know the...answer...!"

An indirect answer, but an answer regardless. He releases her throat. She coughs into normal breathing.

"YOU ARE GOING TO BE MORE OF A CHALLENGE IN BREAKING IF YOU HAVE SOMEONE HELPING YOU."

"Sorry about that...So...*cough* Better luck next time, right"

He rolls his eyes as he begins to remove the restrains.

"DO NOT PATRONIZE ME."

He growls to himself, clearly not in a fine mood since his work was ruined and by his brother no less. When the last restraint is removed and the blindfold was taken off, he heads to leave but something isn't right. There are no footsteps following him. Looking back, he sees her sit up and stretch, several joints popping out of their stiffness enough to make even him cringe.

"YOU COMING OR WHAT?"

She glares and slides off the table onto her wobbly legs.

"Forgive me, it's not like I was stuck on a table and couldn't mover for the entire day."

He groans and goes to her, picking her up like a small dog to be held under his arm.

"I am not a handbag."

"YOU'RE A BAG ALRIGHT."

She growls as he heads up out of the basement. This was new behavior and yet normal from her. Even before this soul maturity thing, she rubbed him the wrong way and fought back when he pushed her. On the other side of her coin was this somewhat okay version that didn't fight and was fine to be around. However, once they were in the home and she was able to move around, she avoids Papyrus like he's the plague. With Sans, she is all chummy and almost eager to please. Almost like how she is with the flower. At first, this was like a godsend. No nonsensical chatter his way. No looks. No nothing. It was true peace. At first. But as the night went on, her lack of attention towards him was gaining power in annoyance. All of her efforts where on Sans or the flower. But not him. Not the great and terrible Papyrus, the one most deserving of ALL the attention. Maybe he just needed to remind her of that fact.

"*snickering* come on, kid, don't leave me hanging. tell me another."

Sans sat upon the couch and was enjoying the poor humor of the human on the floor.

"Okay, okay...Here's a classic. What did the buffalo say to his son when he left for college?"

"heh...what?"

"Bison."

Sans cracks up at the bad pun and Papyrus glares. He clears his throat to gain attention.

"you okay, bro?"

"I COULD USE A DRINK."

"uh...then go get one."

"I WANT HER TO FETCH ME ONE."

The human glares.

"Get your own damn drink."

Papyrus snarls as Sans nudges her with his foot.

"be a doll and bring him something. please?"

She sighs and gets up.

"Only because you said please."

She heads to the kitchen.

"HOW DO YOU DO THAT?"

Sans looks at his brother slightly.

"do what?"

"GET HER TO LISTEN."

"it's a respect thing."

That bugged him.

"ARE YOU SAYING THAT SHE HOLDS MORE RESPECT FOR YOU AND GRILLBY THAN EVEN ME?"

"all i'm saying is there are two forms of respect. one for the person and one for the power that person has. she respects your power, pap. but you don't give her a reason to respect you personally. what with all the times you've kicked her ass for the dumbest shit."

"WHEN HAVE I EVER...?"

"bro, ya smacked her for making meatloaf for dinner."

"THAT WASN'T A DUMB REASON. I HAVE STRICT RULES ON WHAT IS ACCEPTABLE AND THAT DISH WASN'T IT. PLUS IT USED WAY TOO MUCH OF MY GROUND BEEF SUPPLY."

"do you even hear yourself right now?"

"I ALWAYS LISTEN TO MYSELF. IT'S ONE OF THE GREAT JOYS OF MY LIFE."

"you're ridiculous sometimes."

"WE SHALL SEE ABOUT THAT."

"what do you mean by that?"

"THIS FAKE RESPECT YOU SPEAK OF IS LAUGHABLE."

"oh?"

"SHE PROBABLY ONLY OBEYS YOU BECAUSE YOU FOOLISHLY SHOW CONCERN FOR HER LIKE...LIKE A FRIEND WOULD."

Papyrus gags at the thought and Sans sneers.

"i don't do that."

"PLEASE, I KNOW YOU WENT INTO THE BASEMENT TO CHECK ON HER. YOUR DENIAL IS AS TRANSPARENT AS GLASS IN A POOL OF WATER."

"*growl* she's not my friend. i ain't friends with no human. i only keep watch over her because of a damn promise i made to the queen, that's it. nothing else."

"IF YOU SAY SO."

Papyrus smirks knowing Sans said that loud enough to be heard in any room of the house. This will surely poke a hole in their little bound and he'll just sit back as the friend-ship sinks. The human returns with a glass of milk and a sour expression, a clear sign to Papyrus that she heard them. She doesn't speak. Merely holds the glass out to him while keeping a level of distance. Yet instead of taking the glass, Papyrus slaps it out of her grip.

"The fuck is your problem?!"

"CLEAN IT UP."

"Clean your own damn mess."

The tension between the pair grew to ominous levels when Papyrus stood and asserted his authority.

"CLEAN. IT. UP."

"Make me."

"WOMAN, YOU WILL SHOW ME THE SAME RESPECT THAT YOU GIVE MY BROTHER!"

"You haven't earned it."

"EARN IT? WHY THE HELL DO I HAVE TO EARN THE RESPECT OF A PATHETIC HUMAN?"

"That. That's the shit I was talking about last night. You're lumping me in with every other human on the planet and expect me to cave to your demands because why? To guilt me over the war? News flash, jackass! I wasn't part of it! That was long before the possibly any of my bloodline even was conceived. I didn't kill anyone! I don't want to kill anyone! So fuck off. I don't owe you shit. The least of all, my respect."

Her speech ended and was met with the back of his hand across her face. On past nights, such action would be met with no resistance and subsequent obedience. But this wasn't one of those nights. As soon as his hand struck her she retaliated and punched him square on the jaw, knocking him back onto his seat. This takes the room by complete surprise. Though it's no shocker when Papyrus only loses 8 HP.

"I don't want to hurt you. But like I said last night, I'm done trying with you if you're not going to make even the tiniest effort. I'm taking your crap anymore...Master."

She spat the word like poison sucked from a wound. Papyrus felt something odd at that moment. Sure, for the most part, he felt a fury the likes of which burned with the intensity of a thousand suns. But there was something else too. He wasn't sure what it was yet it was interesting none the less. Sans however...didn't take this well. Standing up and grabbing her by her shirt's collar.

"the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"He hit me first."

"i should kill you where you stand!"

"A tad melodramatic don't you think?"

"like i give a flying fuck! you hit my brother!"

"He was asking for more and got less. Be grateful I'm the merciful human."

Now the buddies were on the verge of clashing. She had crossed a forbidden line in Sans's eyes. Even if Papyrus was pressing his luck and she held herself back, she had no right to 'teach him a lesson' like that. No one lays a hand on his little brother! His eye began flickering, as it trying to tap into his magic but not getting a true connection. She merely tilts her head innocently.

"You want to hurt me, don't you?"

"damn right i do."

"Then do it."

That cut the flow of his magic off completely.

"what?"

"I said, do it. I know I overstepped and you're mad. I'd be gunning to hit someone too if Flowey got hurt. So I'm giving you the okay."

Sans isn't sure how to process this. A very weird moment this is.

"I'LL DO IT."

She just looks at Papyrus.

"You've done enough."

"IF I HAD, YOU'D BE BEHAVING BETTER."

She puts her hands on her hips.

"You are not going to make this easy, are you?"

A cocky grin smears Papyrus's skull.

"NOTHING WORTH DOING IS EVER EASY."

She sighs a groan while rubbing the bridge of her nose...and then wincing from touching the bruising.

"God dang...What happened to my nose?"

Sans raises his hand.

"he busted your face and i had to pop it back in."

Her eye twitches.

"So my face is a mess, my tooth is chipped, my nose was jacked up, and YOU...You still want my respect?!"

She points accusingly at Papyrus who merely shrugs.

"I DON'T SEE WHY YOU'RE REACTING LIKE THIS. YOU ACT LIKE THIS IS NEW."

She seethes with internal rage, her fists balled up at her sides and what looks to be vein starting to throb just by her eye.

"I...You...So mad..."

"Lynsie..."

The flower gets her attention, digging into her backpack and pulling out a strange tiny black rectangle with a cord attached.

"What playlist do I put on for when you're mad?"

She breathes heavily through her nose a few times.

"Hit the one called Cross and set it on shuffle."

Flower does as told and she goes collect the device.

"Why did you call it Cross?"

"Because if I named it Songs that make me Rage, Nanny would take it away and deem it bad for me."

Sans and Papyrus share looks of confusion that only grow when the human drops to the floor to then slither under the table with the weird device. She faces the wall and starts to put something in her ears.

"UH..."

"what are you doing?"

She faintly turns to look at them before facing the wall again.

"What's it look like? I don't have a room to brood in so this is the closest thing. Now leave me alone so I don't fucking snap on anyone."

Papyrus can't seem to wrap his head around the strange behavior. Sans isn't sure if he should laugh or cry at the realization that there's a female human of unknown powers/abilities that has issues and is now going through an emotion manipulating time as her soul matures. In short, there's a ticking time bomb in the house and it could be triggered by just about anything but more likely going to be Papyrus.

"DO WE JUST...?"

"yeah. let her be. the last thing we need is a pissy woman ready to throw down."

"NOT LIKE SHE CAN HURT US. WELL...YOU, YES. NOT SO MUCH ME."

"wow..."

"WHAT? IT'S NOT LIKE IT'S NOT TRUE. YOU HAVE WAY LESS HP THAN I DO."

Sans glares.

"know what? i'm not hungry."

Sans teleports to his room before Papyrus can say or do something. Now alone, not counting the flower and the moody human, Papyrus feels his own temper starting to rise. So with a level head, and a touch of OCD, he goes about doing housework to calm down. First, he cleans up the spilled milk. Next, he made a fresh lasagna from scratch. A time-consuming task but one that focuses his mind on something else. Allowing him to think. Think of the things said from all sides. He hated how this made him feel. Feelings make you weak down here. Yet...Damn it all if he wasn't feeling like shit over this! He knew what he said to Sans was insensitive and he'll have to make up for it in an inconspicuous way. Maybe request a day off for Sans from Undyne while Papyrus covered both shifts? Not like he couldn't do that, after all, he is the GREAT and terrible Papyrus. As for the human though...? Part of him knew she was as big of a threat as a termite trapped in a plastic bubble. And when she was in a good mood he found her willingness to treat him well to be enjoyable. Not like he'd ever admit that. She was trying with him, not an easy thing to do, and he wasn't giving her any shot. She was the one giving him inches and miles yet he burned the bridge before it even was built. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to indulge her feeble attempt at showing civility. A truce of sorts maybe? Either way, he was going to be the bigger man in this situation. No way was he going to look the fool to some dumb human bitch. But how to do it?

"Papyrus?"

After nothing but silence for nearly an hour, the human's soft voice and sudden appearance in the archway scares the living hell out of him.

"HOLY FUCKING ASGORE! DO NOT SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT!"

She looks at the floor.

"I'm sorry."

"DAMN RIGHT YOU'RE SORRY."

"No...I mean, I'm sorry for earlier."

She approaches him timidly.

"It was wrong for me to hit you. You just...*sigh* How do I say this without sound like a dweeb?"

Now's your chance Papyrus, be the bigger man and prove your superior by letting her have this.

"JUST...SAY WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY. DON'T ALTER YOUR WORDS. THEY LOSE IMPACT THAT WAY."

That at least got her to make eye contact with him.

"If that's true, then don't make a big deal out of this."

He's confused until she hugs him. This moment of awkwardness grows in the feeling a hundredfold.

"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Her grip on him tightens.

"I am an emotional wreck and going through so much internal bullshit that it ain't funny. So know that the stupid things I'm about to say are true because this is making me feel very vulnerable and uncomfortable which I think you feel too."

"UH..."

"I'm sorry I punched you. I'm sorry I'm a massive pain in the ass. I'm sorry I said I gave up on you. And I'm sorry this is so fucking weird but I lack the ability to covey this in a not dumb way. I also really needed a hug and Flowey can't do it. Sans is also unavailable so...You fit the bill."

"JUST SO YOU KNOW...I'M FEELING THE NEED TO RETALIATE HARSHLY. SO YOU BETTER HURRY UP."

"Okay...I am willing to try again. I don't know how long I'm going to be here and I'd rather we live under a roof that is not going to fall on us because of stupid fights. I...I believe in you. Someone as cool as you can do a little better even if you don't think so. So...Can you overlook the whole I'm a human thing and allow me to be seen as an equal?"

"*SCOFF* EQUAL?"

"Heh...Alright, asked too much on that one. Not equal but slightly less than that. That one work?"

He rumbles lowly in thought. Slowly he puts a hand on her head, giving it a few light pats.

"I...WILL ADMIT TO PURPOSELY ANTAGONIZING YOU JUST TO ENJOY WATCHING YOU SQUIRM. KEEP THAT IN MIND IN CASE OF FUTURE QUARRLES."

"Got it."

"HOWEVER...I AM WILLING TO BE THE BIGGER PERSON AND ACKNOWLEDGE THAT SOME OF THIS IS DUE TO MY LACK OF, WHAT'S THE WORD...SYMPATHY? EMPATHY? CAN'T REALLY TELL WHICH IS THE RIGHT ONE BUT YOU GET WHAT I MEAN, CORRECT?"

"Yeah, I understood. A high LV like yours can do that to a person. Makes it easier to hurt others without caring about the consequences. But it's not your fault. I need to remember that when dealing with you."

Papyrus found himself surprised by her.

"YOU'RE BEING RATHER MATURE ABOUT THIS. EVEN IF THIS EMBRACE IS CHILDISH."

"As I said...I'm willing to try to show you that I mean this."

He sighs.

"VERY WELL, HUMAN. IF SOMEONE AS REDICULOUS AS YOU CAN BE THIS DETERMINED TO GAIN MY CONFIDENCE...I SUPPOSE I CAN PUT IN SOME EFFORT OF MY OWN."

"Really?"

The amount of hope in her tone was two octaves higher than what would be considered endearing.

"TAKE IT DOWN A NOTCH BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND."

"My bad. But...Are we cool now?"

"HMMM...CALL ME MASTER AND WE'LL HAVE A DEAL."

She smirks.

"The more you push it, the more I'm starting to believe you have a kink for it."

He growls and pushes her away.

"YOU ENJOY PISSING ME OFF, DON'T YOU?"

"Not as much as you do for me, Master."

He smirks faintly before a beeping comes from the oven and gets his attention.

"DINNER IS READY. I TAKE IT YOU'RE HUNGRY?"

As if on cue her stomach roars.

"*chuckle* Maybe a little bit."

He removes the steaming pasta dish from its heated womb with a grin.

"MMMM...MY FINEST TO DATE."

"Shall I let Sans know?"

That killed his mood.

"Papyrus?"

"HUMAN...I WILL LET YOU BRING HIM HIS MEAL."

She tilts her head.

"You guys had a fight?"

"MORE LIKE A EXCHANGE OF WORDS THAT WENT WRONG."

"Ah. Then by your command, Master Papyrus. I shall bring thy brother his plate."

He snickers while cutting into the pasta.

"I THINK THAT'S STARTING TO GROW ON ME."

"As long as you like it, I shall continue to do so."

She goes to the fridge, collecting a bottle of mustard from the back of the fridge and shot glasses from the cupboard.

"WHAT'S THAT FOR?"

"I promised your bro a surprise to make up for all the junk I put him through. A little drink and some dumb puns outta help him feel better. I'll smooth stuff out for you too."

He pauses.

"YOU...YOU'D DO THAT FOR ME?"

She smiles sincerely.

"Pap, dude, this is no big deal. This is our own little reset. Sure, the old me was hurt by what you guys said. But new me can forgive that. You can be upset at me all you want. But I don't like you guys upset at each other."

Her words get to him and he looks at her suspiciously.

"I know that look. You think I'm up to something, don't you?"

"I WASN'T BEFORE BUT NOW I AM."

"Papyrus, please...Trust me. For once."

Her eyes widen and she pouts.

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! JUST STOP MAKING THAT FACE. IT DISTURBS ME."

"Thank you. And I swear to you, I like Sans. I'm not going to do anything to mess with him or you. Life does that enough as it is."

He plates a couple of large pieces as she puts the mustard and glasses in her pockets. The plates are then handed to her and she headed upstairs.

"Don't forget to feed Flowey."

"WHY DO YOU GIVE IT FOOD ANYWAY? IT'S A FLOWER. DOESN'T IT EAT LIGHT?"

"Photosynthesis in green plant-life only works in sunlight and special made artificial bulbs like horticultural grow lights. Putting him next to a desk lamp will do more harm than good, so kill that idea now before you suggest it."

"FINE. BUT I STILL THINK YOU'RE JUST SPOILING IT. NONE OF THE OTHER FLORA DOWN HERE HAVE A PROBLEM GROWING."

"Don't care. Those other plants aren't my bro. And he likes room temperature water too."

"DON'T PUSH IT, WOMAN!"

He hears her laugh while making a plate for himself and a small bit for the flower. Damn woman. Spoiling a plant like it's family. So stupid. Still...at least the dumb plant had good taste and liked his cooking. Only something intelligent has the ability to do that.

"fuck off!"

Sans's shout has the two downstairs looking up with intrigue.

"Dude, it's me. Open the door."

"no!"

"Don't be a baby-bones and open the door. I literally can't."

"sucks to be you!"

She groans loudly.

"I invoke the secret buddy pact. Now, let me in please."

This had Papyrus confused. Even more so when he hears his brother's door open.

"fine...but no funny stuff. i'm not in the mood."

"Understood."

The door is closed and Papyrus looks at the flower.

"WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THIS 'SECRET BUDDY' THING?"

The flower merely shrugs.

"About as much as you. They don't tell me anything that goes on between them."

Papyrus scowls. This was troubling. His brother and the human could be scheming or she could be manipulating him with falsehoods unknown. Clever bitch. How long was this going on? How does she expect him to give trust when this shit is happening? Fine, human. You may have this last moment of secrets. For tomorrow, he will personally see to it that no secret will be hidden from him for very long.

#undertale #underfell #Anomaly #Lynsie #sans #papyrus #gaster #grillby #grandpa semi #napstablook #mettaton #chara #frisk #flowey #Asriel #asgore #toriel #undyne #alphys