#tech scurrying around the battlefield

[b4adb4tcher]

imagine watching hunter run around bringing a knife to a gun fight, tech rolling around and refusing to find cover, and wrecker bodyslamming droids through a scope and SOMEHOW trying to protect them??? crosshair earned the right to act like a bitch

#hunter with his fucking hand to hand combat #tech scurrying around the battlefield #wrecker wreckingball bad batch #i would go grey too #the bad batch #star wars #tbb #the bad batch season 3 #tbb spoilers #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker

[moodymisty]

Author's Note: Inspired by this post. You can blame all of the unhinged horniness there for this unhinged horniness. Someone there put the idea down as space wolves or Luna wolves and I chose Luna wolves because @bispecsual gave me the brain rot. And since I'm a massive masochist, I write.

Relationships: Like five unnamed Luna Wolves/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Vaguely NSFW, Very hornily charged bullying, Astartes are very curious and grabby, Demeaning speech, Just imagine you're that one girl on the couch in the meme surrounded by massive dudes but those dudes are 8 foot tall genetic abominations, Gangbang implications(?) my warning tags are getting weird as fuck

To the Luna Wolves, serfs are a new idea- a curiosity.

But after their good deeds upon a planet of little known renown and placement in the galaxy, a few of their population offered to serve them.

Before them, most serfs were primarily stationed on Terra, and on Luna Wolves ships instead those roles were given to low ranking tech priests, or penal labor. Even then however the Astartes saw them rarely, until now.

Some of the newly conquered planet offered sons as aspirants, of which they eagerly accepted. The Luna Wolves have been eager to grow their numbers now under Horus’ leadership.

Others, older and ablebodied, offered themselves to serve as serfs.

Many Luna Wolves can't remember the last time they've seen a normal human for more than a few moments, ushering them to safely into a Stormbird or pushing them from a firefight. Or seeing their corpse flung on the far reaches of a battlefield, out of sight and mind.

In their brief periods of reprieve from battle, it's now been a struggle for their captains and lieutenants to keep their men on task, now that serfs scurry around them completing various tasks. Particularly for the youngest marines among them, it's been a constant to stop them from reaching towards the serfs, interrupting their sanctioned duties.

They will get to you once finished with your brothers, is what the current quartermaster on duty or Astartes captain says. Though haste to have their armor cleaned or bolter clips loaded isn't the thing on their mind, but instead an almost dog-like curiosity.

But after their superiors leave, they always end up crowding around you again. These astartes have barely seen baseline humans in decades, let alone a woman.

It's suffocating.

You were nothing on your home planet. Insignificant. You’d hoped joining them would bring you purpose, something to be proud of. And to get off the planet that had you feeling so trapped. And while you got your wish, in a way the thing trapping you had merely changed form.

They have you cornered in the armoring room now; Like Wolves. You went from trapped on that no name planet to trapped by five different astartes. Your palms feel hot and sweaty, but not as hot as your face.

“You’re so small, you’re going to get lost on the ship,” One says.

He grabs for your chin and holds it for a moment, forcing you to look into his grey eyes. they're stoic, but you can see he's enjoying something about this. Though he allows you to shrink away and out of his grip, looking downward at their chest armor. Or anywhere else that isn't their faces.

“Or trampled,” Says another. The one who spoke previous gives him a sour look before passively aggressively replying.

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

One who hasn't spoken yet has his top armor removed, his lower half unpowered. He was training, using it as dead weight. Training concluded blood now drips down from his nose and lips but is mostly dried, partly covered healing bruises. If he looks like this, you can't help but wonder how his opponent looks.

It’s distracting.

You don’t know if it’s some sort of illness or insanity from being locked in this ship for so long; It makes him look more attractive. You hope to whatever deity or god or whatever exists out in the stars that he doesn't notice you’re staring. That he doesn't notice the way your heart is pounding in your chest and what feels like your cunt as well.

He does. As do the others. You can't kid yourself and think that with their hearing and smell that they haven't noticed that you're boiling alive, and that your body is screaming fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me-

“He won. Out of one hundred men.”

Your gut twists and the marine behind you laughs quietly. It's deep, enough so that you swear you can feel it in your chest. You would squeeze your thighs together for some relief, but you don’t think you can without stumbling over.

“She likes the winners. Looks like you’re out.” He gestures to a fellow marine that gives him another sour look. You briefly wonder what he lost at to deserve such a jab.

“I should return to my duties,”

You meekly say, hoping to remove yourself from the embarrassment and scurry away to another quarter of the ship.

One of them blocks your path and traps you from leaving, picking you up by the armpits and holding you before putting you back down between them all. It's like you weigh nothing to them, and that they can simply jostle and swing you around like a toy.

“I’ll tell your quartermaster you were helping us.” He jerks his head in the direction of a marine clad in only the casual clothing they wear out of their ceramite. Now the focus of your attention he rolls his shoulder, and you can see the muscles of his neck and around his collarbone flex.

You swallow a knot in your throat that felt like it was going to choke you. Your hands clench tight, nails sharp against your palms. You're going to have a heart attack, you swear it. Tears well in your eyes but they don't break your waterline just yet, from sheer will alone. If any of them say another word, call you cute, small, soft, that you smell so sweet, you swear they’ll roll down your cheeks like a waterfall.

“He wants you to put on his armor. The others are always so rough, you’re so gentle with those little hands.”

The marine reaches for you, and in your back step you stumble and accidentally bump into the one who hasn't spoken at all; Just watching and sitting. You stumble over his massive armored boot and end up falling into a sit on his thigh, legs parted over it. His massive armored hand comes to grip your waist, to keep you from falling over. It covers a good portion of your stomach in the process.

You’re so tightly wound just the simple pressure alone is enough to have you clamp a hand your mouth to avoid letting out a moan that would kill you right then and there, if you weren’t already dead. Your knees quiver, toes just barely touching the ground. His massive height makes it impossible to fully stand with his thigh between your legs.

You know they can smell the way you’re leaking and staining your underwear, hear the way your heart is racing like it's going to explode. You’re half afraid you might make his ceramite thigh plate slick.

You can feel their eyes on you. They look at you like you’re food thrown to a pack of starving wolves.

One suddenly steps forward, and pushes his battle brother out of his way with a harsh slam of ceramite on ceramite before undoing the latch his belt.

“I go first.”

#Sevatar daddy bully me until I c- what who said that #space marine x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[nani-nonny]

Lying in bed kicking my feet as I write out all the sudden inspiration I have for Distorted Mirror hehe (currently at 3.5k words and still going)

I can already see F!Donnie smacking P!Leo for calling him old haha

I’m thinking of making Distorted Mirror a long oneshot but eh I’ll get there when I get there

Anyways, snippets under cut

#1: Welcome to the future, Leo

Leo turns around, preparing to look below for a safe spot to open his portal, but instead finds himself falling face first into the ground.

“Oof!”

An explosion in the distance makes Leo’s heart jump and suddenly fumbling to keep a fast pace. He flinches when the sound of gunshot blasts at his side. The sharp clang of metal meeting metal sends a chill through his body. A flickering flame followed by the snap of a whip makes him cower and cover his head.

What is happening?

He was in New York just seconds ago. Last he checked, New York wasn’t a battlefield.

Everything is so loud—chaotic, even. He can hear so many footsteps rushing to and fro, heavier footsteps in the distance calmly taking steps unlike the crowd—or what sounds like thousands—of footsteps that scurry close to him. So many voices are shouting—shouting things he can’t hear clearly over the booming reverberations that deafen his ears enough to make them ring.

With all the sounds he can hear, it feels like he stumbled upon some kind of war movie.

And accompanying all these sounds is the weird, stale scent in the air. It’s dry enough to make Leo cough and cover his mouth with his hand for some relief.

“Check on the leader!” A voice cries out over the explosions, followed by the sound of a machine gun shooting endlessly.

A hand pulls Leo’s upper arm and forces the slider to finally look up.

In front of Leo is a rodent yokai with a huge, bushy tail covered in singed fur. The yokai is wearing what can only be described as scraps of cloth dirtied in, well, dirt and what Leo hopes to be is dry ketchup. Over the yokai’s snout is a purple gas mask of sorts with a small D on the lower jaw—it looks way too close like Donnie’s logo…

The yokai’s eyes widen and his hold on Leo’s upper arm weakens. He drops the teen and looks over his shoulder at a human wearing the same gas mask. He glances between Leo and the human who pressed her finger to her ear.

The yokai finally stops to stare at Leo who stares back at him with the same look of confusion, “This—I don’t—where is the leader?!”

#2: Donnie

It’s Donnie, that much Leo can tell from the purple battle shell and purple bandana. But the Donnie he knows doesn’t have a purple, metallic right arm. The Donnie he knows doesn’t wear a face covering gas mask. The Donnie he knows isn’t this tall or muscular. The Donnie he knows isn’t covered in more stripes than himself. The Donnie he knows isn’t a young adult.

This “Donnie” doesn’t seem to notice Leo standing at the other end. This “Donnie” is hunching slightly and stretches his back with a few pops before turning and walking down the hall towards the mess hall. Much to Leo’s dismay, the door to the room this old “Donnie” came from closes faster than he could anticipate.

So Leo steps cautiously down the hall to stop at the door to the mess hall.

Leo doesn’t open the mess hall door with the armband, and instead opens a portal at a corner and steps through. He hugs his back close to the corner, his swords creating distance between himself and this stranger that looks like a slightly older Donnie.

The older “Donnie” is wearing purple pants and a purple utility belt. One of the pockets is struggling to stay closed due to all the small tools it carries. On the softshell’s arms are a pair of armbands, one completely teched out and the other less teched out and more for defense with its padding. He wears a purple battle shell similar to the one Leo remembers, but has a few scratches revealing the black, metallic material underneath.

“Donnie” is standing on a square platform created in his mystic powers that attached itself to the wall. He is staring at the broken camera Leo had tampered with. He reaches into the overstuffed pocket on his utility belt and gets to work with a slow, incoherent mumble.

Leo remains planted in his corner, still unsure if this is really Donnie or not, despite the similarities.

Nothing in his heart and mind tells him to be careful. Usually, at times like these when he’s faced with a stranger, his gut would steer him in the right direction. It would tell him not to trust someone just as it told him about Big Mama. It has saved him many times and not once ever gave reason to doubt. So why isn’t it working with this weird-looking Donnie?

“So, Leo, care to explain why you messed with my equipment?”

Leo freezes. “Donnie” sounds so much like Donnie, but… older? The voice definitely belongs to a Donnie, but not his twin.

#3: Late Twenties

“What happened to you?” Donnie asks as he scans Leo with furrowed brows.

“What happened to you??” Leo counters as he sheaths his swords on his back. “Why are you so tall? What is this place? And why do you look so old?”

Donnie reaches for his hip and whips out his bo staff to quickly smack Leo.

“I’m in my twenties, Brat,” Donnie retorted as he set his staff down for support as he leaned on it.

Leo slightly turns away from Donnie to rub the new ache on his head. Under his breath he mumbles, “Old is still old… you should round it to thirties.”

Donnie’s eyes narrow and he turns away slightly, side eyeing Leo as he raises his wrist to his mouth. Under his breath he counters, “Look in the mirror, String-bean.”

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #distorted mirror #distorted mirror au #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt future donnie #rottmnt leo #peepaw donnie #well this f!donnie not old enough to be called Peepaw but he’s on the way

[jetiisyandereclones]

Dead, But Not Buried, Chapter 1

Yandere Crosshair X Reader.

Crosshair comes across a ghost from his past on the mission he takes to avenge her.

@professional-yearner

@jazzthemusician

Crosshair hated this place. It was full of memories. Full of hurt and anger and guilt.

He had barely managed to get the all clear to proceed with his personal mission. This planet had been peaceful for a long time and was of no real threat to the empire.

But Crosshair wasn't satisfied. This place was carved into his mind as a bloody battlefield, cruel and unrelenting. The picture in his head, his memories, were certainly not what he saw walking down it's streets.

People went about their lives like anywhere else. Tired, overworked teens slumped against alleyways on their break, businessmen strutted around on their datapads and children scurried underfoot as their parents yelled at them for getting too close to the road.

Crosshair observed, as he always did, from behind the visor of his helmet.

He despised them and envied them. Each one. All of them.

They lived and thrived in the life she should be living. The life they would have had together.

The last time he was here, his love had been killed. He had been ordered to abandon her. Leave her to rot in the middle of a battlefield that she didn't even want to be on, her corpse most likely peppered with thousands of bolts from both enemy blasters and their own weapons.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

6 YEARS AGO:

"TECH! COME IN TECH! WERE GETTING VAPORIZED DOWN HERE! PLEASE TELL ME YOU HAVE THOSE DRONES IN THE AIR!"

The Jedi commed her pilot for what felt like the thousandth time today. She was desperately trying to deflect the bolts coming toward her and her men to buy some time for their retreat, but the rebels were closing in fast, their numbers far outmatching their own.

"These drones were not made for self-piloting. I need more time to upload a new program that will allow me to pre plan their flight path so I wont need to manually control them beyond the initial first command. I'll need at least three more minutes."

The Jedi felt like screaming. She had known that the original plan of simply flanking and overwhelming them with numbers and intimidation wouldn't work.

But she came here, and she had a job to do. So, she kept deflecting.

A new signal came in. The voice in her ear coy and smug, despite the dire situation.

"I would recommend falling back towards me, Sweetheart. There's about to be some visitors on your left flank"

The soldiers she had been protecting had all made their way to find some sort of cover, Captain Rex and Commander Tano giving her the all clear to get herself out of there.

The woman nodded at her fellow soldiers and Jedi, backing up towards a tall outcropping of rocks opposite to where the majority of her men where taking cover behind the tree lines of a forest.

she force jumped onto a small ledge, taking up the spare rifle that had been placed there and falling into a snipers rest next to the clone who was still taking shot after shot at the rebels.

The Jedi spoke, her words punctuated by the bolts she sent out into the smokey field.

"This would have *shoot* been so much easier *shoot shoot* if we had just *shoot* gone with the plan we made *shoot, shoot, shoot* originally!"

Crosshair broke his rest briefly to playfully nudge the irate Jedi's shoulder.

"And here I thought Jedi didn’t get angry. If it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure I saw General Skywalker get stunned earlier. So at least you can say you won that bet"

The Jedi startled, not realizing Crosshair had overheard that particular conversation, her jerky movements causing her to miss her target.

"Ugghh, shit. How did you even know about that, you were on the ship!"

The sniper smirked.

"I have eyes and ears everywhere kitten. Always."

"Okay, that's not creepy at-"

"CROSSHAIR, Y/N, INCOMING!"

The target Y/N missed had seen her position on the outcropping, swiftly sending a rocket right into their faces. Neither had time to react before they were flung from their hide, being tossed from the cliff and right back into the field.

Crosshair got up, but his Commander, his friend and love, wasn't moving.

"Commander? COMMANDER! Get up, we need to go!"

The sniper grabbed and shook her shoulder, desperately trying to get some sort of reaction out of the Jedi, but none came.

" NO! Nonono NO! Please...Y/N. Please..." the clone begged, his voice small and pleading as he pulled her upper body to rest against his own

Tech's voice came through the com, his voice thick with restrained grief.

"Crosshair, I'm not picking up on any vital signs-"

"No"

"Crosshair, you need to fall-"

"-NO! I won’t leave her here!"

A new voice joined in, it's authoritative tone left no room for contradiction.

"CROSSHAIR! Fall back. That's an order!"

General Skywalker's was firm, but the sniper heard its hitch.

"We can’t help her, not anymore. I'm ordering a full retreat, you need to fall back now!."

Crosshair ripped off his helmet at this, his eyes red and vision blurring as he tenderly caressed his loves hair and cheek for the first, and last time, gently resting their foreheads together for a short, painful moment. The dust in the air around them gave the grieving clone a brief moment of cover to mourn the life he had almost had and the woman he had lost.

"Forgive me, my love."

Crosshair lowered the woman's body to the ground, before snatching up his helmet and her lightsaber then bolting back towards the dropships as thousands of his vod's reprogramed drones made quick work of their enemy.

Three minutes too late, Crosshair though bitterly.

PRESENT DAY

Crosshairs plan was simple.

Coral the civilians and squeeze them until they give up the names and locations of all existing members of the rebellion. From there, wipe them all out.

That was the official reason for this mission. He had reported some 'intelligence' that suggested insurgents were gathering again. knowing first hand the kind of damage the previous rebellion did, he recommended that he be allowed to find and wipe them out before they could properly form another rebellion, this time against the empire.

The true reason?

Crosshair wanted revenge. He wanted payback.

He wanted CLOSURE.

The sniper had seen her every night in his dreams for the last six years.

His beautiful, cruel Y/N.

Every night he saw her face, dead; Pale grey and sunken. The nightly visions allowed him no rest in his waking moments either.

He sometimes saw her face in a crowd reaching a rotting hand out to him, he heard her voice in the wind, whispering betrayal into his ear.

'Why do you get to live, but I had to die?' Y/N would ask.

This would put an end to his never ending nightmares, Crosshair was sure of it.

He left her there, but now he would finally avenge her, put Y/N to rest once and for all.

The empire gave him this. Gave him the means to pull off his mission and maybe, just maybe, find some peace in the dead of night. That was what his brothers hadn't understood.

He needed it, needed this. The empire could give it to him. The empire could put an end to his torture.

The clone had set up in an abandoned building project that overlooked one of the busiest districts on the planet. His HUD picking up the heat signatures of thousands of people going about their days below.

He smirked cruelly to himself. This was good, the more people he could cage, the more likely someone was to have any real intelligence.

Crosshair resisted the urge to yawn and rub his eyes.

His latest nightmare had shaken him awake well before dawn, as per usual. it was the same vision he'd had every night for the last six years.

Crosshairs darling Y/N stood in a field of bones and blood, and as she turned to him, her youthful beauty melted off. Her hands were gnarled and twisted and her face grew cold vengeful.

She screamed and screamed at him. Accusing him of killing her. screeching how her death was his fault, that her sacrifice meant nothing, that he was wasting her life.

He had begged back in the dream, trembling and shaking on his knees. The cowed man pleading with her not to accuse him; to forgive him for not saving her, not joining her in death.

Crosshair tried to convince his ghostly love that her sacrifice had not been wasted, that he would avenge her, then he would join her.

But she didn't believe him.

She never did.

The dream ended like it always did. With her cold, bony hands wrapping around his throat, her ghostly lips sealing on his, sucking the air out of his lungs as he writhed in agony and pleasure.

He craved her love and affection, but would bask in her anger and cruelty if thats all she would offer.

The sniper would take on a thousand years of pain if it meant he could have just a few more moments with her to treasure. However this night, like all other nights, it was not meant to be.

Crosshair silently woke drenched in sweat. He stiffly climbed out of bed with shaking legs before forcing himself to get ready for the missions ahead of him.

"Sir, we are all ready and in position. Waiting for your Command"

Crosshair heard one of his troops com. This particular woman was...Dedicated to him, to say the least. she thought she hid it behind a wall of duty, but he saw right through her.

She was an attractive person, he supposed. Anyone with eyes could have seen it. She was slender, strong and tall with a peircing set of deep brown eyes that made most men crumble and pant.

Not Crosshair though.

Crosshair had never felt anything for her, only seeing her as a useful thing.

She was useful, both on the field and off it. On missions he knew that she wouldn't question even the bloodiest of orders he gave her. Then off the field, he had a warm body he could fuck into the mattress from behind without resistance. Crosshair took out his frustrations and leftover adrenaline on her coldly and distantly. Then when it was over, he just got up and left the troop lying there, collapsed on the bed and breathing rough.

He wasn't even sure if she finished. He knew how to make it happen of course. But he couldn't bring himself to hear the finishing cries of a stranger, a TOY, and not the lovely pants of the woman he loved with everything he had in him.

If there were any... unexpected consequences... Afterwards, then it was no business of his what she decided to do about it. The trooper could decide what would happen, alone.

Crosshair just ripped himself away from her when he was finished and stalked back to his own bunk without so much as a rub on the back, or a whispered word of praise.

Those were for his lost love.

It wasn't even the troops name he growled out as he came, roughly slamming his hips into her ass.

It was Y/N's.

she should be the one he was in bed with right now. He should be making love slowly and sweetly to her. Making her whine, kissing her forehead as he cradled her warmly to him and slowly eased her open with his fingers before rocking into her.

How he wished he could feel the slide of her naked, sweat slicked skin against his. Feel her wrapped warmly around him as he sunk slowly into her, bringing her to sweet pleasure over and over again as he nuzzled into her face and shoulder and entwining his long fingers with her own.

By now he might've even been gently cradling a baby bump for her. Soothing their beautiful, squirming child into a state of calm so he could pleasure its mother properly.

Crosshair longed to caress and sooth and map his lost darlings body, to take her into his arms and drift off to sleep with her. Then in the morning he’d wake her up with loving kisses all over her face, Huffing out a gentle and genuine laugh as his stubble made her giggle sweetly.

Instead, he had to resign himself to imagining her with him as he used another woman's body.

He loathed it, and sometimes, he loathed the troop that though she could replace Y/N.

The light crept into the half-finished room he had set up in, the sunshine warm and gentle.

taking a breath to center himself in the present, crosshair took one last look at his targets through his scope.

Ants, all of them. All ready to be crushed beneath his boot.

"Begin the operation"

He gave the command and dozens of planted bombs went off, causing panic and mayhem as falling debris trapped them in the town square.

He would enjoy this.

Crosshair stalked the perimeter of the crowd.

watching, listening. Always watching and listening.

His troop was on the hunt, ruthlessly and efficiently weeding out any possible informants. He would admit she was good at this.

The soldier could hear whimpering and crying, begging and pleading. Crosshair just sneered.

They were weak. All of them willing to step over each other for a chance of survival, throwing whoever they could into the fire to try and gain some favour.

Crosshair was slowly pacing by a group of people who were moving around restlessly, causing a scene and bringing attention to themselves. It seemed in the civilians haste to find somewhere to take cover from his trap, an older man had been trampled. There was a woman crouched down next to him, his head on her lap as she bent over him to try and get a better look at his injuries.

A waste of time, in crosshairs opinion. He didn’t need his HUD or his helmets mic to hear his wheezing, see the blood being coughed up. His ribs were broken and had punctured his lungs.

That man would choke on his blood very soon. Nothing the woman could do would stop it.

Seeing the armoured man just standing there and watching them, the woman stood up and looked directly at him, somehow finding his eyes despite his dark visor.

When her gaze met his, everything around the clone ceased to exist.

“You’re just going to stand there and watch him die? Why don’t you do something?” She furiously demanded of him.

Crosshair would usually meet this kind of challange with a bolt to the head. But for the first time in a long time, he was completely stunned, unable to process what he was seeing.

The sniper's head suddenly pounded as one command shot across his mind like a bullet.

Execute Order 66.

Crosshairs chest started heaving, his breathing ragged and uneaven. In his distracted state he failed to notice that his troop had seen her Commanders distress and had made her way over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, concerened as the clone mumbled manically to himself.

"Sir?"

The clone gripped his firepuncher so hard it shook, his trigger finger twitching with muscle memory and programming, but he never raised it. Instead he seemed to fold on himself, shaking his head as if trying to shy away from the mystery woman in front of him.

"Good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers follow orders.

Good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers follow orders.

Good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers follow-"

The clone abruptly cut himself off with a gasp, his mind snapping to blissful clarity, the voices, the screaming, all gone.

His chest was still visibly rising and falling as Crosshairs beloved firepuncher slid from his slack, shaking hands. It hit the ground loudly, clattering against the stone walkway.

He couldn't breath or think or do anything but tear off his helmet, a single word was whispered in disbelief and astonishment from his lips.

"Y/N..."

#yandere crosshair x reader #yandere crosshair x Jedi!reader

[myspideysensesrtingling]

In My Way (2)

IN MY WAY: DECISIONS, DECISIONS, DECISIONS

Pairing: (eventual) Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 1968

Warnings: none!

Notes: hellllloo! kind of set-up/filler but you know how it be. let me know if you like it! I am really liking this writing thing because it's fun but apologize because I am not good at it sooo...yeah. Anyway, enjoy!

Summary: The couple from New York, now identified as none other than Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, give you quite the decision to make.

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"Hi, Y/N," the man said as they both stood. He slipped off his glasses and stuck out his hand, finally introducing himself. "I'm Tony Stark." Tony Stark. The Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. The pieces clicked together then and there. Tony Stark: the man whose technology you tried to study and understand on your own daily, whose advancements in the world of science left you in awe, and who just helped defeat Ultron, was sitting right in front of you. And he was here to talk to you.

“And I’m Pepper, Pepper Potts,” the woman added. “We’re so excited to meet you.” Of course, you knew that already. Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, was a genius, philanthropist, and role-model in her own right. Her role in the tech company left you in equal awe. And, like Mr. Stark, here she was sitting right in front of you. Here to talk to you.

A million emotions flashed across your face, from confusion causing your brows to furrow before transitioning to shock as your eyes widened further than you thought possible and eventually to excitement as Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, likely two of the smartest people on the planet, were here to talk to you.

"Hi." Your voice cracked, your face heated up, and your eyes shot to the ground. Hiding behind your wall of trying to be a perfect child, you did not think this was going well. Eventually bringing yourself to look back up, Tony and Pepper just had the same warm smile on their faces as they had a minute before. They each had their own nerves trying to surface; as much as you wanted to impress them, they wanted to impress you.

As Tony watched the young girl process this onslaught of information, he recognized the creases forming on her face. “You know, your expression actually looks kind of like Pepper’s when you’re thinking like that,” he told Charlotte, stopping all of her thinking as her heart swelled. To be compared to Pepper Potts was unlike anything she ever dreamed.

"Anyway, I've been talking to Miss Johnson here about why we’ve made this trip to come visit you, Y/N. We’ve heard some incredible things about you,” his voice tapered, already prouder of this kid than his father ever was of him.

“We--we have a program. It monitors exceptional students around the country looking for standouts,” Pepper explained when she noticed Tony seemed frozen. She wasn’t sure she had ever seen him struggling with his words like this, but his genuine smile told her not to worry. “Normally we sponsor their education, but we had another idea for you.”

Any pieces that had clicked together a moment ago were falling back apart. Monitoring students? Hearing things about you? How? More importantly, why? The creases on your face deepened and you squinted ever so slightly as you tried to understand. You stole a glance at Miss Johnson, who beamed at the man speaking to you. What could the famous Tony Stark and Pepper Potts want with you?

“We had a couple ideas, actually,” Pepper continued. “First, and most importantly…” She peeked at Tony, who met her eyes before smiling down at you, practically glowing with hope despite all your nerves.

“We want to adopt you,” Tony said as the room fell silent. “We’re, um, looking to raise an older kid - we aren't sure about the whole baby thing yet." He rolled his eyes and drew a giggle from you - the ones at the home sure were so loud sometimes when you were trying to study. Relief flooded through Pepper; Tony’s humor was back.

"Second,” Tony continued, more confidently this time, “I'm looking to add someone to my team with the Avengers. Someone committed, determined, intelligent, driven, and with a great attitude to tie it all together," he hesitated, not wanting to already be the dad that pushed too hard. "If you’re up for it, I think that person could be you."

They knew each of these was a lot to drop on a 15-year-old girl alone; the force of them together, however, almost knocked you over. Two of the most powerful people in the world wanted to adopt you? They wanted you to be part of the Avengers? The Avengers, for goodness sakes! They must've made a mistake, you thought, feeling incredibly unqualified.

"I…I don't have any powers," you finally said, practically a whisper.

"Neither do I, kid," Mr. Stark reassured with a smirk as Pepper nodded in support. "Not everyone is born as a god or endures a procedure that makes them superhuman. But that doesn't keep them from being super. I'm not sure where you'd fit in - maybe in the lab, maybe on the battlefield - but I from what I've learned about you, you've got what it takes to be the best wherever you're needed."

"Wow, I'm not sure what to say," you eventually stammered. It was a great complement, sure, but you weren't sure you were really up to this great task they presented to you. This was the Avengers, after all. You were just a kid who lived in the same room all her life teaching herself on a computer. Even if I am "worthy" of this challenge, you thought, do I really deserve it? You weren't special. That said, this was such an incredible opportunity. Stark's lab, his technology, Pepper’s knowledge, all the resources and things you could learn, even if they didn't want you in the end - this was way too incredible to pass up. Pepper explained that they were prepared to take you today if you felt ready - the plane was a few minutes away at the airport and already on the runway.

"You'd start your junior year of high school at Midtown, a science school that our current baby Avenger, Peter, goes to," Mr. Stark added before looking at Mrs. Johnson who stared back with a look that dared him to explain the concept of a baby Avenger. "And of course by that I mean he's currently the youngest on the team. Until you join, at least." Miss Johnson, satisfied by the correction and excited by the possibility of a new future for you, began filling out paperwork to arrange the adoption should you decide to go. This other Avenger you had never heard of piqued your interest, but you had much more pressing issues on your mind. The direction of your future was completely in you own hands for the first time in your life.

The air stood still while you sat, tense, trying to wrap your head around your choices. Change was terrifying, but this? This was incredible. You hardly left the orphanage since being dropped off many years ago, but this was a dream come true. Imaginative at heart, you knew there was more in the world for you to explore outside of the orphanage's property lines. Coming to your senses, you breathed deeply and stretched up tall, eyes directly on Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts, both of whom looked back at you hopefully as they imagined again what their life could be like if you said the word.

"Mr. Stark? Ms. Potts?"

They both blew air out of their noses, chuckling with gentle smiles. "Please, call me Tony. And her, Pepper. But - you were saying?"

"I'd like to come with you. Today."

The words escaped your lips and the many pieces of the plan were immediately put in motion. With Tony's connections, he was able to expedite the adoption process. Miss Johnson ushered you around the building, helping collect your things from the bedroom and pack a backpack with a couple of items. They stopped into the classrooms for quick goodbyes to the teachers you had, all of whom were sad you'd be leaving but relieved you would have a better shot at achieving the potential they saw in you. When you finally stopped moving for a second, you were out on the front porch with Miss Johnson where the current era of your life began. Tony and Pepper waited at the end of the pathway that connected the door to the sidewalk, holding hands and leaning up against a black Cadillac. You stole one last look at the orphanage and Miss Johnson, who hugged you, waved, and scurried back inside, leaving you alone. Lifting your head high and taking a deep breath, you stepped down the stairs toward your new parents and your new life. Tony slipped into the front seat while you and Pepper climbed into the backseat of the car. The doors were quickly shut by a man who made his way back to the driver's seat and escorted them away from the only place you had ever known.

Seemingly only moments later, you arrived at the airport and drove straight up to the quinjet after the driver repeatedly showed identification to agents along the way. It was a small plane, lettered with "STARK INDUSTRIES" on both sides in large font shaped like the signature logo you knew well from your research online. The car door opened and you followed Tony's and Pepper’s lead, hopping out and trotting right behind them and on board. They had been quieter than you expected. This was partially planned, of course - the last thing they wanted to do was overwhelm you on day one. Tony and Pepper both felt confident you were up to the task as your files were outstanding and the child services agents he spoke to were astonished by you. In the plane, Tony took a seat by the window with Pepper across the aisle from him. You sat across from Tony but were instantly drawn to the window, your eyes filled with more curiosity and wonder than anyone Tony had ever seen. Pepper recognized the look immediately, of course, as the expression Tony made when he had a new idea. You weren't the slightest bit nervous as the plane took off despite it being your first time on a plane - instead, you were instantly mesmerized by the jet engines lifting you off the ground and carrying you across the country. Overcoming your feelings of under-qualification to even be in the same room as Tony and Pepper, you gathered up the confidence to pick Tony's brain the rest of the five-hour flight to New York. You covered all the mechanisms behind how the quinjet worked and all the extra technology he installed. He showed you designs on his laptop, which you quickly pulled into your lap and scanned thoroughly, learning more and more every second.

Tony beamed as your eyes danced around the screen, taking in every bit of information you could. You quickly set the laptop back on the small table between you and Tony and angled the screen so you could both see it, pointing at something with another detailed question about some component of the plane's engineering noted on the blueprint. While you tried to form your question, he glanced from the screen where you were pointing to her face. Your eyes shined the brightest he had seen so far and, though cliché, it was like he was watching you emerge from your shell. Pepper watched them both fondly; this was everything she and Tony dreamed of. Excitement radiated from you and Tony loved every second of it. Already feeling the reward that comes with raising a child and watching them grow, a weight on their shoulders they didn't know he carried lifted. Their eyes met briefly in between your questions and both sighed with relief. They had a happy family and were headed home. Each of them turned back to watch you, the incredible kid sitting in front of them, as they looked fondly at the outcome of their own life-changing decision to adopt you.

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[thelanternwielder]

Too Late - Part Nine

Author’s Note:

To the people who have been waiting for this chapter: thank you for your patience. I’ve just been too busy to work on it.

Originally, I thought I was just going to be writing one last chapter. 16,000 words later, I decided to split it into four.

Welcome to the beginning of the end of this story.

Link to the previous part: >Here<

Link to the start: >Here<

Link to the next part: >Here<

Tell me what you think. Feedback is always appreciated (and I do mean that).

The frigid bowels of the shadowed mountains still seemed to shimmer during the night time.

In the cavern that had the glossy green wall, Dr Suno was knelt at its base. Beside him was a metallic suitcase of sorts containing various portable scientific paraphernalia.

A scraping sound could be heard. He was shaving the emerald ice off the wall with a small blade and collecting it in several test tubes. He was going to take them to his laboratory to study the wall’s composition.

He was calm, methodical. His chilled demeanour was from the belief that he was safe. He had asked two soldiers to accompany him; they stood at the entrance to this cave. They were armed, and he was sure that they could handle any intruders. He was at the location so late because he betted on the idea that his enemies were human and needed sleep.

But he still had to work quickly. The longer he and the soldiers stayed, the colder it got. Soon, it would be too dangerous to be there.

He was almost done, collecting the last sample carefully.

He was so focused that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him.

Suddenly, there was a deadly click followed by an electronic whistle, as if something was charging.

Dr Suno froze.

Then a feminine voice spoke, dripping with disgust.

“Hello Jeredy. I vant my Monsuno back and a little birdie tells me that you have it.”

His hands lowered as he looked over his shoulder cautiously.

His eyes met the end of a black pronged gun. He followed the weapon to its owner. A blonde short-haired woman with a long fringe and a scowl held it. She was wearing a thick black and red jacket over her long white coat.

Her voice became more menacing, “Give it to me now or else.”

The scientist was quite flabbergasted to see the woman. He put his blade and test tube down and swiveled around to face her a bit more.

Her eyes narrowed as they watched him slowly reveal his blue and yellow core.

He waved it indicatively, “You mean this, Charlemagne?”

“Yes,” she hissed.

She lurched forwards to grab it.

He abruptly threw it, whipping his wrist. She gasped as she saw it skate across the icy floor, spinning.

Ting!

With an explosion of azure, a navy lion with a golden mane, fearsome head armour and jagged wings materialised. It eyes met Charlemagne’s. It snarled.

There was a sudden slam behind her. She glanced down to see the suitcase, now shut, yanked from where it was.

She looked at the fleeing man, “Trying to escape, are ve, Jeredy?”

She aimed the gun at him.

He quickly peered over his shoulder, “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

The woman glanced back at the lion.

Crackling in its jaws was a bright blue ball of electricity. Her eyes widened.

She dived to the side as the massive feline hurled the charged orb at her.

BOOM!

The cave shuddered. The emerald wall fractured slightly.

Sliding on her side, Charlemagne aimed her gun again. She wasn’t going to let the man get away.

Bang!

“AAAAAAAH!”

Dr Suno screamed as his whole body seized with the shot’s surge. He, along with his suitcase, dropped to the ground like boulders.

The woman got up, maliciously grinning. The lion looked at the fallen man and, for a moment, was processing what just happened.

She took the lion’s hesitation as a chance to get to the man’s body and snatch the core from his hand.

The cat emitted a guttural, disgruntled sound as the woman approached it.

“I have your core now, Driftblade,” she stated, “I am your rightful controller. You vill obey me.”

The giant feline was shooting daggers at the woman as she stopped in front of it.

It raised a heavy paw. She spotted it.

“Vhat are you –“

Whack!

Charlemagne was batted to the side, face slamming into the icy floor. Her gun rattled beside her, and the cat’s core bounced away.

Rapidly, she flipped herself onto her back, haphazardly grabbing her gun. The lion was stomping towards her.

She fired. The Monsuno flinched with a growl.

She pulled the trigger again.

Click.

She glanced at the gun, “Oh, now I run out.”

She chucked the gun to the side as she scurried from the hurtling paw. It missed with a thud.

She backed away, regarding the rebellious Monsuno that was once so obedient.

She gritted her teeth with frustration, “It seems that you need some disciplining, Driftblade.”

She pulled out a crimson core.

“Acro! Launch!” she slung the tiny container at the lion.

It burst, engulfing the room with a vexed vermilion.

Meanwhile, dashing down one of the tunnels, feet pounding the ground, Dr Klipse was leading the rest of his team through it. They had found out about Charlemagne’s escape. They were not there to save her, quite the opposite. In the Doctor’s words, they were there to ‘strip her of her core and his snow jacket before kicking her to the ground’ and all the words after that were lost in inaudible rage.

He saw her textile thievery as a bitter personal attack against him. Oh, how he was fuming!

He swept the others up in his wrath like a wildfire. They too wanted good old-fashioned revenge.

And so, Eklipse Resistance was charging through the ice caves, an angry mob.

The group staggered to a halt when they reached the area with the five doors. They had spread from the entrance and into it.

The Doctor closed his eyes, body tensing with the pent-up fury.

“I forgot about this part,” he grumbled.

Tinker glanced at the doorways.

He turned to his two leaders, “Er, which way?”

“Maybe we should go down the p-path,” the Professor pointed dramatically to a tunnel with his cane, “with the two fainted soldiers in front of it.”

The cane, as it hit the ground, cracked the air like a gunshot.

Everyone regarded the right-most tunnel, the one that was pointed to. Splayed along the floor were two S.T.O.R.M. soldiers, guns lying near them. One seemed to be angled away from the tunnel’s mouth, as if he attempted to flee.

The Doctor’s smirked slightly, flames flickering in his eyes. He swaggered towards the tunnel with malevolent snicker.

Dom Pyro, like an alert rabbit, gazed into the third tunnel, body pricked by an invisible force. A nervous smile appeared on his face.

“Tonight’s going to be fun,” he said.

Everybody looked at him. The Doctor’s face had reverted to its snarl.

Drezz detected the nerves, “What makes you say that?”

Suddenly, a cobalt core hurtled into the room from the third tunnel. It struck Dom’s shoe and exploded right in front of him. He staggered backwards, shielding himself from the light.

A voice announced itself confidently to the villains.

“Surprise!”

Revealing itself was the ursine glacier Hyper Lock, to the abhorrence of the group. Chase bounded to his white Monsuno’s side.

The boy’s smugness was cut short by the red core that erupted near him. Rising from the light was the parasaurolophus Sauro, plunging its drill hands into the bear’s face.

The Doctor skedaddled from the two titans as they crashed into the icy wall. The whole place shook.

Another azure core skated into the room, weaving past the Punk Monks. They began to run from the light that burst behind them.

From it emerged a long, dual-bladed, whip-like tail. Swinging like a guillotine, it smashed the frosted floor, mere centimetres from where Tinker was, cutting him off from Drezz. The former jumped out of his skin. He, along with Ratchet and Throttle, rushed into the first tunnel.

“No!” Drezz saw his comrades fleeing from the giant, quad-winged, bipedal dragon that was summoned.

The reptilian beast roared, spotting the lone Punk Monk. He backed away, glancing at where the third entrance was. The blond S.T.O.R.M. specialist had joined Chase with a cocky grin.

The Punk Monk looked back at the dragon. He dived out of the way of the snapping jaws. He ran towards the Professor who was standing back from the action.

He gazed over his shoulder. He saw Dom, Hargrave and the Doctor dodging the dragon. A laser, courtesy of the butler, slashed at the dragon’s face. It wailed.

Suddenly, Sauro skidded in front of him, bashed by the polar bear’s blow. It was blasted into the wall by a bright blue beam from the bear’s maw.

“Wah!” Drezz flinched.

He felt a tugging at his shoulder.

“Come,” the Professor commanded.

Drezz glanced at him, “And leave the others?”

“They’re perfectly c-capable of handling t-t-themselves!”

The Professor, clutching his cane and hat, scurried into the fifth entrance. Drezz, with reluctance, followed.

Chase caught a glimpse of orange at the corner of his eye.

“Dad,” he frowned, pierced by sudden worry.

He began to race towards the tunnel with the concussed soldiers in front of it. His friends had just caught up with he and Bravo.

Dax was the first to come out. He saw the boy in blue as he returned his Monsuno.

“Bleazing heck, Chase!” he exclaimed, running after the boy, “We just got here!”

The other members of Team Core-Tech trailed Dax, with Bren wheezing. As they passed Bravo, Alpha appeared from the darkness.

The ginger boy inquired, “What’s the situation?”

Bravo pointed to the battlefield, “I’m battling the ‘eclipse’ of their ‘resistance’. Chase has gone after Tallis,” he directed to the right, “I saw three of the Punk Monks go that way.”

A mighty wham came from the fight as Hyper Deadfall and Sauro clashed. The dragon was smacked in the back of the head by fiery blasts, originating from a two-tailed spider-scorpion. Sauro headbutted the lizard, causing it to stagger backwards.

Then the black beast Backslash seemed to teleport to the dragon and slashed at its throat. The reptile hollered.

Alpha, turning to his arriving team, ordered, “X-Ray, Tango, you’re coming with me. Kilo, you’re with Bravo.”

Another voice spoke, “And I will stay here with the boys.”

Everyone glanced into the tunnel’s darkness and saw Six. Alpha nodded to him before running off, followed by X-Ray and Tango.

Kilo and the boy in red flung their cores into the fight, crimson and cobalt streaking the ice.

With a cerulean light, the thick-limbed dragon Hyper Warwing materialised from underneath the spider-scorpion. It lifted the arachnid up as it waved its legs helplessly. To the butler’s fright, his Monsuno was tossed to the side with a crash.

A flash of vermilion had summoned the scythe-tusked skeleton Serno. It charged towards Backslash with a bellow.

WHACK!

Backslash was thrown across the arena. The Doctor, struck down with exasperation, gazed at the middle entrance. His eyes blazed as they landed on the bald boy.

“You!” he boomed.

“Hello Father!” Six replied with the same level of aggression.

Dom and Hargrave glanced over to see where the new voice came from.

The flames licked from the Doctor’s mouth as he shouted, “How dare you BETRAY ME!”

A slight smile appeared at the corner of Six’s mouth.

He remarked with a bitterness, “Betray you? I just moved on to a better place, Father.”

The words were the catalyst for the Doctor’s rage. You could almost see the steam wafting off his searing skin.

He commanded, body about to erupt from wrath, “BACKSLASH!” he threw his hand out to the children, “CURSED SPIRAL!”

The dark wolf-bear rushed past its master. It jumped into the air, corkscrewing rapidly, aimed at Six.

“Look out!” he gasped, leaping out of the way.

The S.T.O.R.M. specialists did the same, slamming the ground. The boys braced for the impact.

There was a shuddering smash as the black beast hit the hole, drilling into it. The children became coated in a plume of icy rubble, rattled by the quaking.

The debris settled as the shaking stopped. Coughing, the boys unburied themselves.

Six staggered to his feet and glanced at his friends, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Bravo responded, dusting himself off.

Kilo nodded. He gazed at the battlefield.

“Huh? Where did they go?”

The others turned to it. Their creatures were searching aimlessly for their opponents.

Six stared into the third tunnel, entrance widened and more cone-like from Backslash’s attack.

A grin appeared on his face.

“I have an idea,” he softly said.

Further down, the three men were fleeing virtually in the dark, hearts racing as fast as they ran. Their feet rattled the rocky floor.

Hargrave felt that he was tapped on the shoulder. He glanced over it.

He did a double-take, eyes popping.

There was an orange light rapidly growing behind them, accompanied by a whooshing warmth.

The butler spun around, whipping out his core and launcher.

“Twinsting! Protect us!” he fired at the wall.

The spider-scorpion appeared from the vermilion light, hunched in the tunnel. Its legs and pincers pressed tightly against its body, becoming crystalline and hardened. It created a diamond-like shield.

Hargrave hightailed it towards the tunnel’s exit. The other men had frantically reached it and hid behind the walls. The butler could hear a bang as his arachnid was struck by the blazing orange. It strained a squeak.

Instinctively, the butler leapt to the ground, robot arms retracting tightly to his body. He took cover.

An inferno erupted from the cave’s draconic mouth, illuminating the surrounding air. It bellowed as it sent out a shockwave to the shadowed outside area. Twinsting’s crimson aurora snaked back to its controller.

The area darkened again as the dragon calmed, chilly air becoming still. There was a silence to it as the three men tried to recover from the near-grilling.

Robotically, the butler found his feet and shook the snow from his sleeves. His mechanical arms sprung back to their normal position.

Dom and the Doctor took a few steps away from the wall. All the men regarded the tunnel with shaken disbelief.

Dom commented, eyes flickering between the Doctor and the butler as his words dripped with sarcasm, “You’ve taught him well.”

The butler was just as dry, “I’d argue that move was more your style, Dom.”

The Doctor, uninterested in the conversation, gazed to the night sky. He could see the flashing lights of the black metal goliath that hung in it, nearly camouflaged.

“Oh boy,” he breathed.

The others copied him.

The butler, trying his hardest to hide his trepidation, asked quietly, “Are we really going to take on an entire army by ourselves?”

A deranged smile spread across Dom’s face. The idea of it thrilled him, especially when he thought about the number of bodies he was going to leave behind.

The Doctor, pulling out a core, grudgingly answered his butler, “We have no choice.”

Dom ripped the cores off his sash and exclaimed with gusto, “So, let us rain the snow in their blood!”

Hargrave snapped his core to his launcher.

The three men launched their cylinders, leaving trails of crimson behind. They struck the raised surface. The auroras danced into the night time air, lighting the snowy area up.

Meanwhile, down path number one, Tinker, Ratchet and Throttle had reached the cavern that possessed the green door.

“Oh, great!” Tinker was riled, “A dead end.”

Throttle suggested, “Maybe we could hide here.”

A boy’s voice shut her idea down.

“Some hiding spot you got there!”

The Punk Monks turned around to the only exit. Blocking their path were Alpha, Tango and X-Ray. The latter looked slightly fatigued.

Ratchet complained, “Why is it you lot that have to find us?”

The children pulled their cores out, beaming with assertion.

“Strike Squad! Launch!” they threw their cores at the Punk Monks.

The adults responded with their tiny containers. The room erupted with the clashing blue, red and yellow, saturating it.

On the other side of the cavern, in the room with the emerald wall, the undead ampithere Acro was wrapped around the navy lion as it thrashed. The serpent was constricting tightly around the feline’s neck.

“Obey me!” Charlemagne ordered, “OBEY!”

The lion wheezed a roar.

Suddenly, there was a flash at the end of the room. Then a skeletal triceratops, body emblazed, rammed into the lion and the ampithere. They crashed into the green wall, snapping it ever so slightly more.

“VHAT?!” she exclaimed as she watched the dinosaur pin the other creatures to the wall.

She glanced at the origin of the light. Glowering at her were the cycloptic Professor with the banded Drezz.

“Hello C-C-Charlemagne,” the Professor spat spitefully.

Her eyes flickered between them, “You little rats. You think that you could bring me down.”

Drezz held his core up, about to throw, “Yes. Hate’s a pretty powerful emotion -”

A fourth, anguished voice interrupted them.

“Dad!”

The men glanced behind them. The woman looked past them. The three saw Chase knelt at his father’s limp body, wide-eyed and gaping. His breaths were shallow.

He gazed up and saw the villains.

His voice was strained, “What have you done?”

Drezz immediately became defensive, putting his arm down, and faced him side-on.

“Don’t look at us kid!” he pointed to the woman, “It was her.”

Hasty footsteps came from the cave’s mouth. The rest of Team Core-Tech appeared from the tunnel. Dax entered first, then Jinja and Beyal. Bren supported himself on the edge of the entrance, panting.

A growl came from the Monsunos as the triceratops was pushed back by the lion. The feline ripped the serpent off its neck and flung it towards Charlemagne. She dashed out of the way. The ground shuddered as Acro hit it.

Chase got to his feet, flooded with grief-stricken anger. He whipped out his core.

“Lock! Launch!”

The tiny cylinder created a blue trail as it left the boy’s hand. He ran from his father’s body to join the battle.

Drezz quietly said to the Professor, “Looks like this’ll be a three-way.”

“Perhaps we can u-utilise this to our a-advantage,” the Professor slyly replied.

A smile appeared on Drezz’s face.

Dax, baffled by what was happening, was tending to Dr Suno. He flipped the man over and placed his fingers on his neck.

Jinja ran up to him, “Is he…alive?”

There was a pause.

Dax eventually said, “I feel a heartbeat.”

Beyal bounded to his side. His cloak swished as he revealed his core.

“We will protect him.”

Jinja got into a fighting stance, pulling her core out.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of crimson near the gathering. Emerging from the cloud was the finned lizard Iguano.

“Blazing hell!” Dax shouted, attempting to drag the scientist to safety, “Bren! Help me!”

Bren’s ears pricked at his name. He scrambled to Dax to aid him.

Beyal and Jinja had launched their cores. With bursts of azure, their triple-headed serpent and armoured moose joined the battle. The monk’s serpent had smacked the finned lizard away from the fainted man. The lizard seemed to taunt the two. The moose chased after it.

In the entryway, Dr Suno was on his back. He opened his eyes and blinked, groaning. His eyes focused and saw Bren’s and Dax’s elated faces.

“You’re alive!” the boy with glasses exclaimed.

The scientist sat up, rubbing his head.

He then heard the ruckus. He looked to the cavern and saw the unfolding chaos.

He addressed the boys, “What is going on?”

Dax responded, “We’re here to save you, Doc.”

Bren added, rubbing the back of his head, “Yeah, we received this distress signal saying that Charlemagne was here. Then it turned out that all of Eklipse Resistance is here. And now Chase, Jinja and Beyal are fighting against Charlemagne, Professor Tallis and Drezz.”

Dr Suno glanced at his hands then patted himself down. He looked around him, now panicked.

He asked, “Were you able to get my research kit?”

“Uh,” Bren exchanged a look with Dax, “you mean that suitcase?”

“Yes. Where is it?”

Dax pointed to the cavern, “In there. We were trying to get you outta there first.”

The scientist sighed as he gazed out to the battlefield. He could risk being trampled to retrieve his kit or stay safe and come back another time. He didn’t like either of those options.

Then he heard a shout. It was distraught, in pain. He got to his feet and walked to the edge of the entrance, joined by the boys.

“Chase?” he whispered.

The scientist saw Hyper Lock fighting against the skeletal ampithere.

“Jaw of Light!” the voice cried.

A bright and powerful beam burst from the bear’s mouth. It smashed the skeleton.

“Again!”

Another bean struck the Monsuno.

“Again!”

The serpent had been bowled over, barely able to get up.

The voice sounded tearful now, “AGAIN!”

The ampithere was hit by the energised beam once more, shattering it instantly, slithering back to Charlemagne.  The force was so great that it sent a shockwave through the room. It caused the other Monsunos and humans to hesitate.

Suddenly, there was an ear-splitting snap that resonated through the room. Cracks radiated through the green glistening wall from the centre, spreading like the roots of a tree.

Everyone had stopped and now was looking at it. Chase was the closest to the wall. He went up to it, noticing something odd.

The cracks on the wall had seemed to go around the X-like symbol that was printed on the ice.

He touched the symbol with his hand.

BANG!

The wall exploded. The boy jumped back. A cavity had formed in it.

In a blink of an eye, a sticky lime green tendril shot out of the hole, latching onto the boy’s belly. He glanced at it, startled.

He lurched forwards as the tendril dragged him into the hole with a yelp.

Dr Suno was struck with horror, “CHASE!”

He, along with Bren and Dax, raced into the cavern. Only now had everyone else realised that the scientist was still alive.

Charlemagne glanced at the exit, now unoccupied. She began to hurry towards it.

Whack!

She was thrown back by the triceratops’ long, bony tail. She slid as she landed, eyes closed.

The Professor chuckled, hearing the satisfying strike. He glanced at the gathering in front of the hole that had formed.

There was a scream.

Jinja.

The giant moose turned its head to the glistening wall. It bounded over. Jolted by the Monsuno’s action, the three-headed serpent rushed to help.

In the gathering, Jinja’s arm was being clung to by Bren, Dax, Beyal and Dr Suno, desperately pulling back. The girl’s other hand had been snatched by the slime.

“Don’t worry Jinja! We’ve got you,” the man reassured.

“it’s creeping up my arm!” she blurted.

Her moose was just as distressed as her, moving agitatedly. It turned around and shot at the slime with its tail. It snapped and Jinja collapsed forwards. The boys caught her.

But just as the group became hopeful, Jinja was yanked back again, slipping out the boys’ hands. She disappeared into the hole.

The group were shocked statues, at a complete loss at what to do.

Drezz took the distraction as an opportunity to loot Charlemagne. He had taken the black and red jacket and beheld it.

He quickly slipped on the forbidden garment. His entire body relaxed.

“It’s so warm,” he mumbled.

“Drezz!” The Professor hissed.

The man cocked his head. The Professor beckoned to him. He nodded, running over to him.

Drezz put his hands in the pockets. He felt a core in one of them. He glanced at it. There was a vermillion light.

He remarked, “I’ve got the jacket and Acro.”

The Professor had an urgency to his tone, “We need to g-go. Now.”

They returned their monsters and rushed towards the door. They skidded to a halt as the giant lion leapt in front of them.

The men flinched. The Professor reactively loaded his launcher and fired it.

The lion’s face was engulfed in orange as the core burst. Hyper Lock glanced over its shoulder, hearing the lion’s grunt and a whirring.

But another sound caught the bear’s attention.

“Wah!” Beyal had fallen and was dragged into the darkness by a slimy tentacle that had latched onto his ankle.

It happened so rapidly that no one could react in time. Hyper Glowblade hissed sadly, engulfed by a sudden guilt.

The snake pushed Bren, Dax and Dr Suno away from the hole with its tail. The three staggered back. It then blocked the hole with its body.

Bren looked around, needlessly adjusting his glasses.

“Um, where’s Professor Tallis and Drezz?”

The others studied their surroundings.

“Gone,” Dax answered breathily.

The scientist wandered up to the now concussed Charlemagne and plucked his core from beside her. In the instant that he glanced at it, the azure aurora of the lion snaked back into it.

He turned his gaze to the broken wall, flooded with anxiety.

Meanwhile, outside in the night, Dr Klipse, Dom and Hargrave were amidst crossfire from both above and on the ground. In the dark cloudy skies, the wyvern Dactyl slashed and struck down any Hopper that dared to get in firing range. It was hotly pursued by the swooping dragons Hyper Deadfall and Hyper Warwing. The clouds were alight with the falling carnage, air filled with hostile shrieks.

Below, the long-necked Bronto was gunning down some of the aircraft with its beams. Charging towards it was the bladed lizard Serno. It was suddenly body-slammed by Sauro.

On the other side of the battlefield, the sabre-toothed reptile Odon clashed with the undead bear Archaic Lock. The joints in Odon’s tail glowed as it whipped around to smack the bear. The ursine brute batted it away with its arm. It was barely scratched. The lizard jerked away from the bear.

The Doctor threw his hand out to the powerful monster, “Lava Bomb!”

The lizard began to belch boulders of molten lava at the bear. Each ball was shattered with fists, ground shuddering with each slam.

The Doctor’s eyes widened. Six smiled deviously.

The boy turned to his bear, “Let us show Father what you can really do. Flaming Fissure!”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow; he didn’t remember Archaic Lock having this move.

The bear’s forearms became engulfed in fiery light. It slammed the snowy ground with its palms. The ground began to shake violently. Everyone stumbled as they tried to stay on their feet.

A red-hot line shot towards Odon, melting the snow and exposing the rocky floor.

Then…nothing?

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed, “Was that really it?”

Six snickered at his father’s comment.

Suddenly, the ground beneath Odon erupted with a geyser of fire, swallowing up the lizard.

“GAH!” the Doctor jumped out of his skin as his Monsuno shattered into its crimson aurora and returned to him. It wasn’t coming out of its core any time soon.

He regarded the boy with a mix of intimidation and indignation.

The boy’s eyes burned brightly with hate, “That’s only the tip of the iceberg, Father. Oh, how I am going to enjoy showing you what we can do!”

He bellowed, pointing to his father, “GET HIM!”

The gargantuan monster roared viciously. The Doctor bolted as it charged towards him.

Hargrave gazed to where he heard the roar. His eyes grew in terror when he saw his master.

“Doctor!” the butler began to race to him.

From above, blue rings were flying towards the butler. It contacted a triple beam from the brontosaurus. The explosion caused the man to falter in his step.

He glanced up and saw the thick-limbed dragon being blasted by the brontosaurus’s beams.

He scrambled towards the bear. Using his robot arms, he shot a laser at the beast. It yowled as its eye was seared, rearing upwards.

“Archaic Lock!” Six called out to his Monsuno.

He was struck in the leg by a core. He jerked it.

“Whoa!” it burst with vermillion in front of him.

Backslash appeared and leapt onto the giant’s back. With an emblazed claw, it gouged out the bear’s other eye. The beast screeched in pain, swaying uncontrollably. Backslash backflipped off as the goliath crashed into the snow.

Six’s jaw dropped as his Monsuno lifted itself, dazed and blinded.

The Doctor goaded the boy, sneering, “What’s the matter, Six, not as indestructible as you originally believed?”

The boy snapped, “It’s not over yet!”

The big bear snarled. The black beast lunged at it.

Hargrave sighed with slight relief, realising that the situation wasn’t as dire as he first thought.

Suddenly, a line of bullets pelted the snow near his feet. He jumped like a rabbit from them. He ran from the second line that punctured the frost.

He spun around, looking for the source. He spotted a lone Hopper.

He took aim with his drill.

And fired.

With a slash of a laser, the propeller was damaged. Smoke began to billow from it. It wobbled in the air. Another beam from Bronto smashed through the helicopter.

Boom!

The aircraft was obliterated as a person plummeted to the ground. Kilo and Bravo glanced over to where they heard the explosion. They saw the flaming shards speckle the snow.

The boys were hit with astonishment when they identified who the fallen pilot was.

“The Commandant Marshall?! What’s he doing here?” Kilo wondered.

Bravo clenched his fist, spying the butler as he sauntered to the collapsed leader.

“He needs our help!” the boy declared, beginning the charge.

He was joined by a courageous Kilo.

They were abruptly blocked by the stomping three-headed brontosaurus. It snapped at the boys with all its jaws, driving them back. They watched helplessly.

The butler had his hands behind his back and a feeling of evil delight in his chest. There before him, in tattered clothes, lying face down at his feet, was the Commandant Marshall himself.

He sniggered while the weakened man roused, “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Jon Ace,” malice twinkled in his eyes, “How nice of you drop by.”

The Commandant Marshall rose to all fours and remarked combatively, “You’re not the only one with a trick up his sleeve.”

“Oh, really?” the butler raised a mocking eyebrow.

Ace looked up. His jade eyes were glowing. That wiped the smile off the butler’s face.

Ace flicked his head down, body convulsing as he arched his back. He groaned from the pain as it began to surge through every one of his cells. The butler stepped back in start.

The man’s body glowed with an eerie green aura. His muscles were tensed tightly as all the veins in his body popped to the surface. His white gloves ripped, revealing dark seized, inhuman hands with bestial claws. His limbs bulged as they grew larger and larger, shredding through the navy uniform, leaving nothing but shorts. As he stood up slowly, a long, pulsating tail whipped from his rear. His skin was now an unnatural blackened teal as visible vessels running along his body and limbs quivered with each heartbeat. The skin was stretched over his face, exposing the eyes, mouth and slitted holes that replaced his nose. Rupturing through the surface of his shoulders and forearms were giant crimson blades, and, through his chest and back, large gemstones of the same shade. He snarled like an animal as his teeth sharpened. Closing his mouth, two incisors stuck out, pointing upwards. The aura disappeared, leaving a monster heavily breathing in its wake.

Hargrave regarded the beast with horror-filled eyes and shocked speechlessness, backing away. He recognised the creature.

He was only able to muster one sentence, “I have wondered how you were able to change back…”

In the distance, Kilo and Bravo were gobsmacked at the transformation.

“Dude,” the blond one said, “did our leader just turn into a monster?”

The other crossed his arms, chortling, “Yeah. I don’t think he needs our help anymore.”

A head of the brontosaurus turned around as the other two watched the boys. It was struck with panic.

The dark green goliath grinned, showing off its daggers, as its gaze reached the butler. The dwarfed man clenched his jaw, incredibly wary.

And for good reason: the last time the man had seen the monster, the latter had a mind-control device attached to him to subdue him. He also knew that Jon Ace would not have taken kindly to being the Doctor’s prisoner and slave.

And he was about to bear the full grunt of it.

His robot arms twitched nervously. He was being stared down by the monster.

Suddenly, the creature sprung into a sprint. He was stampeding towards the butler.

A clawed hand swiped at the man as he jumped to the side. He changed direction and scurried away from the other monstrous hand.

The goliath spun around, whipping his arm with the motion.

Whack!

Hargrave was backhanded by the beast. He was airborne for a moment before smacking the ground, sliding into the snow face-first.

Lifting himself weakly, he spluttered, spitting the snow out of his mouth.

There was a deathly snarling from behind. He shrunk ever so slightly, heart wrenching. He spun around and sat up.

The goliath loomed over him, backlit by the flashes of light from the battle. The bangs were like thundercracks as the creature’s eyes struck him with emerald electricity.

There seemed to be a roar from another Monsuno, a quiet distressed rumbling.

The butler was paralysed. His heart tried to rip out of his chest to flee. He futilely attempted to rationalise with the beast before him.

His voice was shaky, “Surely this is overkill,” he recoiled further, “especially on poor little me?”

The creature’s expression switched to one of condescending distrust. All hope the butler had for surviving the situation had evaporated in that instant.

Suddenly, the man found that something had coiled around his leg, squeezing tightly. He immediately looked down with frightened eyes and saw a thick, red, pulsing tentacle rendering his limb immobile.

Before he could react, he was yanked forwards and dragged through the snow. With a snap of the goliath’s tail, the butler was catapulted into the air.

He was heading towards the raised surface. Dom and the Doctor had been backed onto it, still commanding their Monsunos while surrounded by bestial bellows.

The butler crash-landed with a clumsy roll. The men cocked their heads to him.

“Hargrave?” the Doctor was perplexed by the butler’s entrance.

The butler stumbled to his feet, hand on head as he swayed a little.

“What happened to you?” Dom was just as bamboozled as the Doctor.

There was a fearsome snarl, unlike any of the other monsters on the field. The Doctor turned to it.

His eyes grew exponentially, now actually scared.

The giant, sapient monster was lumbering towards them. It was able to strike the brontosaurus that stampeded towards him with a swift uppercut without truly losing his stride.

“Toxic Ace,” the scientist’s words were tinged by bitter disbelief, “Impossible!”

Dom, at the corner of his eye, had spotted the strange creature. Its presence made him uneasy.

The butler regarded the beast, trembling. He took one step back.

Then another, heart pounding as the banging around him almost became a blurred sound.

And one more step.

He plummeted downwards with a yelp.

The men turned around. In the butler’s place was a circular hole in the ground.

Dom wandered up to the hole, peering down it. Darkness.

He glanced at the stunned Doctor, then back at the hole again.

He jumped.

“DOM!” the Doctor shouted desperately, “DON’T LEAVE ME!”

He raced to the hole’s edge as it slammed shut. It was sealed by a stone slab that had a symbol engraved into it: a curvy X with the line through it.

His eyes flicked back up. Toxic Ace had climbed onto the raised surface, shooting him down with an intense glare.

The gaze was broken when a falling wyvern crashed on top of the goliath.

A pain-stricken grunt came from behind the Doctor. He glanced over his shoulder. Backslash had also been herded onto the raised surface. It appeared to be badly beaten, reduced to a crawl.

The Doctor looked around, realising that he was completely surrounded. Even the skies swarmed with danger. For a moment, he became petrified.

The two S.T.O.R.M. elites and the bald child climbed onto the snowy platform on opposite sides.

Six ordered the man, “Give up! You have lost!”

Triggered by his voice, the Doctor’s expression changed to utter spite. He began laugh darkly. The boys’ eyes narrowed with suspicion.

The man spoke with menacing grandeur, “Oh, but Six,” he looked the boy dead in the eye, taking his words as a challenge, “it’s not over yet!”

He boomed his command, “BACKSLASH! MALEVOLENT HOAX!”

The black beast’s ears pricked as it sprung to its feet. It leapt into the air, now a blur.

Suddenly, there were dozens of Backslashes. The battlefield soon became swamped. There was nothing but vicious snarling and claws as each of the beasts attacked.

It was utter anarchy.

Meanwhile, down path number one, it was comparatively less chaotic. In fact, it almost seemed to be controlled. In the air, an undead dragon clashed with an organic UFO. Below, a beaked insect attempted to stab a black and white wolf but constantly missed. A skeletal ankylosaur kept charging towards the giant stag beetle, the same one that could fly, and failing miserably to strike it.

It appeared that the Punk Monks were going to lose this battle.

But they had managed to manoeuvre themselves towards the exit while the children’s backs were to the shiny wall.

As Tinker’s reptile fought, he noticed that the bespectacled boy’s movements were delayed. Despite the fact that he had frequent powernaps throughout the day, X-Ray was still tired.

This gave Tinker an idea.

He called out to the Punk Monk with pigtails, “Hey Throttle! You want a target that you can hit?”

She looked over to him. He gestured to the boy with glasses.

She nodded, giggling.

She faced her Monsuno, “Mallus!” the ankylosaur skidded to a stop and looked at her.

She threw her hand out to the boy, body electrified by malevolence, “Charge!”

With a bellow, the ankylosaur galloped towards the S.T.O.R.M. specialist. He was too focused on his battle, looking up.

Tango was jolted with shock, realising what was about to happen.

“X-Ray! Look out!”

The boy glanced down, hearing his name.

“Huh?”

A clubbed tail swung around.

Wham!

He was thrown into the glassy wall.

The ankylosaur was driven away by the beetle’s blue shots.

Alpha saw his friend.

He called, “X-Ray!”

The boy with glasses got up and groaned, “I’m alright.”

The red-headed boy was suddenly blasted back by something. He too smacked the wall.

He looked up.

The burly woman fist-pumped, “Bullseye!”

The boy growled, gritting his teeth. The underhandedness infuriated him.

“Follow Shot!” he ordered his Monsuno.

The wolf’s tail spawned diamonds that hovered around its body. The shapes fired golden lasers at the insect. It screeched, overwhelmed by the attack.

X-Ray placed his hand on the wall, steadying himself. It was on the green door-like section.

And just like a door, the section slid down. X-Ray lost his balance.

“AAH!” he fell through the door, plunging into the darkness.

Alpha gasped, rushing to the door. Tango did the same, juggling her attention between her Monsuno and the wall.

“Gone!” Alpha was baffled at the boy’s disappearance.

He stared into the darkness with a frown.

Shooting out of the shadows was a slimy emerald tentacle. It splatted onto Alpha’s chest.

“What the Hell?!”

His body jerked forwards as he was dragged into the hole.

A hand grabbed the back of his collar.

Tango pulled back, attempting to resist the tentacle.

She lost her footing and slipped.

The children vanished into the hole.

Watching from afar, near the entrance to the cave, the Punk Monks witnessed the unfolding drama with growing smiles.

Ratchet chuckled, “That takes care of them.”

And with that, they returned their Monsunos and fled.

Unbeknownst to them, all the souls who had been snatched were tumbling down tunnels, deeper and deeper into the dark mountains.

#monsuno #fanfic

[krixwell-liveblogs]

“Surrender,” Armsmaster ordered us.

“No,” Grue retorted.

I guess he failed to use that kind of voice people obey this time.

“You’re only going to embarrass yourself if you prolong this.”

“We have you outnumbered five to three, eight to three if you count the dogs,” Grue answered.  “I can see your buddy Velocity lurking over there.”

I mean, numbers is one thing, but Armsmaster just revealed he’s got the means to specifically counter you, and these are experienced heroes with government-funded equipment and training.

The odds may be more even than you think, Grue.

Of course, the Undersiders have a bit of plot armor here, so I don’t think they’re actually going to lose, but if narrative convention hadn’t been in play? I’m not so sure I’d be putting my money on them.

“What do you hope to accomplish?  I admit, it was clever to control the battlefield, to dictate each engagement so it occurred on your terms, and to use our own weapons against us… but those weapons no longer work.

Yeah, you really put a spanner in the works on that plan.

None of your weapons work,” Armsmaster turned his head to look at where Miss Militia had Regent at gunpoint.

I do wonder how he neutralized the powers. Especially Regent’s - normally, Regent should be able to make Miss Militia drop both him and the guns, allowing him to scurry away into the darkness.

“Which means you can stop trying to use your power on me, Regent.  I’ve got a little blinking light in the corner of my H.U.D. telling me you’re trying something.  I’ve set up psychic and empathic shielding, to protect myself from you and Tattletale.”

Interesting. So that’s a thing that can be done in this ‘verse, without the direct use of a power specifically meant to do that?

I suppose it makes a decent amount of sense, what with all the Tinkers around, for that kind of tech to be available. We also have the forcefield surrounding the PHQ, which I guess falls in a similar category.

Now, I accidentally glanced at the crack between another program and the bottom of my screen and saw the top of this next paragraph, so I’ll let Taylor ask the next question for me:

I glanced at Tattletale.  He was psychically shielded against her?  How did that work?

That... is actually a good question. Does he even know--

ooh I think something just paid off

Tattletale insisted her power was mind-reading back in the confrontation with the Dallon girls! Whom the Protectorate later spoke with. They’re now the only real sources the Protectorate have on Tattle’s power, besides Taylor insinuating that the Undersiders might find her out if she didn’t carefully police her conversation with Armsy.

Armsmaster isn’t protected from Tattletale - he just thinks he is because he thinks he finally knows what her power is.

#6.6p1 #Worm #krixwell liveblogs #Arc 6 #Chapter 6.6

[consolatione]

There is still light

I lie in bed looking at the windows. The nights are still light, but they are getting darker. It's easier to notice the change now that we only come to the country side on the weekends, driving up the coast on Fridays after work, arriving late. Soon it will be pitch black and we won't go here anymore, the house is too cold, and we are selling it to afford to move permanently to some place outside of the city. I can't wait. But I will miss this place, miss going for a morning swim. Miss the house. Miss the cobbled path we made.

In a few weeks, it will be pitch black at this hour, but now as I listen to my son go to sleep, the curtains are backlit even if it is quite late. As he gently snores and drifts away to his childhood dreams, I dream my dreams. I dream of this place. I dream of the place we will settle down in. The hunting season has started, and I dream of that too. To go out early in the morning and sit still waiting as the day breaks. To take care of the game and to cook it with chanterelles and eat it in the company of good friends. I dream of hiking, of going on a long ski trip, to sit around a fire in the winter, to smell of smoke and drink coffee made in a sooty pot.

He sleeps. I go outside and stand beneath the 100-year-old trees that are dark silhouettes against the starry, deep blue sky, and I listen to the strange chirping of the tawny owls, a sound that is very un-owl-like. The Norwegian neighbours are singing. I long for singing at a party with friends too, even if I doubt anyone but my kids long for my singing in return.

All these dreams are of quiet, connected places, and I scurry between them in my mind as if I was in a hurry. Maybe I long for them because I have lost them and have to recreate them. They are mine when I can make them mine, when I can buy their luxury. These things that feel like the most natural thing.

I have spent the day speaking about tech and devices. Thinking about things that should marvel us. I'm not marvelled. Instead I think of paths in the landscape, paths made by man's feet. Over lifetimes people have walked over landscapes, carving their journeys into the ground, even forcing trees to bend their branches so that they grow crooked. These are runes carved by walking, their stories quietly span millennia. The old oak stands witness.

This is Modernity, I think. To ever long for quiet. To be captured by the new, to make a commodity of that which is natural. The man who desired everything, and got it, only to find himself missing wanting itself. Not that I think all that is modern is bad, nothing is ever just bad. If it were, we would get rid of it. We are not victims of Modernity, we are spellbound by it. It's a drug. A spiral.

I read what is said about me. Getting messages from friends who understand. They sigh. I sigh. I tell them I don't care, but I can't help but getting angry anyway, so I postpone writing back. Nothing good ever comes from responding in anger, and anyway, every word I write feels sordid, dirty. Why should I have to reply to such nonsense? I remind myself that they are the voices I wrote about in the Taiga, voices that have no meaning unless you grant them meaning. I wish I had that old poetry collection here, so I could remind myself of those words. They still make sense to me, they paint an inner landscape.

I know how this sounds, I know how any reply to my detractors sounds too. Its dramaturgical. It has an almost Aristotelean dramatic structure to it. I have tried before to explain things prosaically, to explain how Modernity has caught us. My views put into words for people that are stuck in the loop. I remember telling the story of the freedom of the serfs in Russia. They had lived their lives in captivity, but were mostly left alone. They saw their masters a few times in a lifetime perhaps, the rest of the time they lived as they always had. Sang their songs, cooked their food. Toiled. It was a hard life at someone else’s mercy. Then they were freed, millions of illiterate people who for thousands of years had stayed in one place were let go, only to be mangled by industrialism, where Modernity was ready with her ideologies. ‘Escape this!’, she said, and they did, only to find themselves in yet another trap. And just a few decades earlier there had been life that made them humans beyond their destitution and serfdom, something that made things bearable. Expelled from the land they used to be bound to, they had instead looked to employment, and their new masters had clocks for them to punch and quotas to meet. Trying to escape that, they were caught in starvation, brutalism, the anonymity of urban life and the most savage wars. And then, they ran from that into atomisation. Someone thought out a new structure for society, perfect in the minds of ideologues. Straight lines, like borders on a map drawn by colonialists, far removed from the fabric which is actual life.

I tried telling their story, but in Modernity there is no fire to sit around and talk. A fire reduces the pedantry of the listener. Humans have listened to stories like that since the dawn of time, until the stories became archetypical and everlasting. I think that maybe we evolved to listen attentively and without hostility around a fire. But in Modernity we refuse to listen. ‘Would you rather we had serfs?’ ‘No.’ ‘Would you rather we had feudalism?’ ‘No.’ ‘You are suspect anyway.’ ‘I guess.’ You are missing the point. It’s the elk that flees that is driven towards the cliff, not the one that isn’t scared and calmly keeps his head with him. I am not sure the analogy holds up. In any case, the serfs ended up running from poverty and the injustice they knew, into a machine that ground them down and supplied them with an ideology that could only ever make things worse. They were played. In the new economy they were outdated, needed elsewhere. They were told they had to fight for freedom. The old structure which kept them up had to go and they ended up in Modernity’s battlefield.

At one time we were all tribes, tied together by blood. The biggest unit we could muster was that which could organically be upheld. Then arose the centralised state, cracking down on tribal allegiances and social structures, replacing them with institutions. It became possible to organise bigger groups of people, nations. Those who couldn’t make the transition were dominated by those who could. Tribal life was sometimes brutal, but they were never powerful enough to eradicate or colonise. To form a nation state, the kings had to change the structure of society, replace cultures, traditions with institutions the state had control over. Sometimes go to war with people who held on to their local loyalties, whose life wasn’t improved as they were forced to give up power. The nation states were necessary and over time some grew into peaceful, welfare states. Then a new power manifested itself. It had learned how to conquer, it had to attack the social fabric and undermine the institutions in place. Even the demography. The state itself was to be put under the thumb and relinquish its powers. Power, it was decided, should move farther away from people and into the hands of international courts of law; away from the troublesome nation states and demographic hegemonies. Smash it. In with the new. Just one more sacrifice and we’ll reach utopia. Give us the power to rule you and we’ll give you… nothing. Panem et circenses. The bank will own your house, your car, your institutions will lack power and only remain to uphold the bureaucracy to manage it all. You will not belong to anything, you are free, your family bonds are only contractual and temporary. You are an atom. Free as long as you do not rattle the cage.

My grandfather fought in WWI. He detested the generals after that and came close to joining the communist party, only to realise they were just as likely to send him to the slaughterhouse. He chose to bear his demons himself, or so I am told. Taking long walks. Maybe drinking too much. These people that stand before me now are fighting for their own disenfranchisement. They want the super state. They want to give up their institutions. They will get into a rage and froth at the very idea that maybe it isn’t the best of ideas to forever change the demographics of a country. They are marching again, throwing their hats into the air. We’ll be back in time for Christmas. This war will end all wars.

I get defensive, and I really shouldn’t. There's a fire in the fireplace and a stream of smoke rises across a starry sky. You never see the shifts in colour on the night sky in the city. I shouldn't be defensive, because that only means I have already failed to explain. Again. A trap. 

The very participation in the debate is a trap. To not participate is the only thing that you can do, and hope there are those who see what you do anyway. To win is to do something else that is outside of their reach. To win is to build. To win is to take those who understand and make something that speaks by existing alone. Then I see that is what we do with these arts as well, but as soon as they are done, Modernity wants it. Demands it. And it uses the same fools it always has, those who find their truths in ideology and tell themselves they are the Good ones. Fighting the Good cause.

Is it too late? There’s not even a silver slither by the horizon. I need to calm down, enjoy the luxury of normality offered on the weekends until we can build something strong enough to withstand whatever this is, while he sleeps and dreams his childhood dreams.

No, it is not too late. I still believe in that which is the essence of being human. To write runes with your very life. To refuse to be caught in a loop and instead build on the love for that which is peaceful and connected. We will not be atomised.

#traditionalism #Peace #quiet #Love

[myspideysensesrtingling]

In My Way (2)

IN MY WAY: DECISIONS, DECISIONS, DECISIONS

Pairing: (eventual) Peter Parker x Female!OC

Words: 1958

Warnings: none!

Notes: hellllloo! kind of set-up/filler but you know how it be. let me know if you like it! I am really liking this writing thing because it’s fun but apologize because I am not good at it sooo…yeah. Anyway, enjoy!

Summary: The couple from New York, now identified as none other than Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, give Charlotte quite the decision to make.

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"Hi, Charlotte," the man said as they both stood. He slipped off his glasses and stuck out his hand, finally introducing himself. "I'm Tony Stark." Tony Stark. The Tony Stark. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. The pieces clicked together then and there. Tony Stark: the man whose technology she tried to study and understand on her own daily, whose advancements in the world of science left her in awe, and who just helped defeat Ultron, was sitting right in front of her. And he was here to talk to her.

“And I’m Pepper, Pepper Potts,” the woman added. “We’re so excited to meet you.” Of course, Charlotte knew that already. Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries, was a genius, philanthropist, and role-model in her own right. Her role in the tech company left Charlotte in equal awe. And, like Mr. Stark, here she was sitting right in front of her. Here to talk to her.

A million emotions flashed across Charlotte's face, from confusion causing her brows to furrow before transitioning to shock as her eyes widened further than she thought possible and eventually to excitement as Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, likely two of the smartest people on the planet, were here to talk to her.

"Hi." Her voice cracked, her face heated up, and her eyes shot to the ground. Hiding behind her wall of trying to be a perfect child, Charlotte did not think this was going well. Eventually bringing herself to look back up, Tony and Pepper just had the same warm smile on their faces as they had a minute before. They each had their own nerves trying to surface; as much as Charlotte wanted to impress them, they wanted to impress her.

As Tony watched the young girl process this onslaught of information, he recognized the creases forming on her face. “You know, you actually look kind of like Pepper’s when you’re thinking like that,” he told Charlotte, stopping all of her thinking as her heart swelled. To be compared to Pepper Potts was unlike anything she ever dreamed.

"Anyway, I've been talking to Miss Johnson here about why we’ve made this trip to come visit you, Charlotte. We’ve heard some incredible things about you,” his voice tapered, already prouder of this kid than his father ever was of him.

“We--we have a program. It monitors exceptional students around the country looking for standouts,” Pepper explained when she noticed Tony seemed frozen. She wasn’t sure she had ever seen him struggling with his words like this, but his genuine smile told her not to worry. “Normally we sponsor their education, but we had another idea for you.”

Any pieces that had clicked together a moment ago were falling back apart. Monitoring students? Hearing things about her? How? But more importantly, why? The creases on her face deepened and she squinted ever so slightly as she tried to understand. She stole a glance at Miss Johnson, who beamed at the man speaking to Charlotte. What could the famous Tony Stark and Pepper Potts want with her?

“We had a couple ideas, actually,” Pepper continued. “First, and most importantly…” She peeked at Tony, who met her eyes before smiling down at Charlotte, practically glowing with hope despite all her nerves.

“We want to adopt you,” Tony said as the room fell silent. “We’re, um, looking to raise an older kid - we aren't sure about the whole baby thing yet." He rolled his eyes and drew a giggle from Charlotte - the ones at the home sure were so loud sometimes when she was trying to study. Relief flooded through Pepper; Tony’s humor was back.

"Second,” Tony continued, more confidently this time, “I'm looking to add someone to my team with the Avengers. Someone committed, determined, intelligent, driven, and with a great attitude to tie it all together," he hesitated, not wanting to already be the dad that pushed too hard. "If you’re up for it, I think that person could be you."

They knew each of these was a lot to drop on a 15-year-old girl alone; the force of them together, however, almost knocked her over. Two of the most powerful people in the world wanted to adopt her? They wanted her to be part of the Avengers? The Avengers, for goodness sakes! They must've made a mistake, she thought, feeling incredibly unqualified.

"I…I don't have any powers," Charlotte finally said, practically a whisper.

"Neither do I, kid," Mr. Stark reassured with a smirk as Pepper nodded in support. "Not everyone is born as a god or endures a procedure that makes them superhuman. But that doesn't keep them from being super. I'm not sure where you'd fit in - maybe in the lab, maybe on the battlefield - but I from what I've learned about you, you've got what it takes to be the best wherever you're needed."

"Wow, I'm not sure what to say," Charlotte eventually stammered. It was a great complement, sure, but she wasn't sure she was really up to this great task they presented to her. This was the Avengers, after all. Charlotte was just a kid who lived in the same room all her life teaching herself on a computer. Even if I am “worthy” of this challenge, she thought, do I really deserve it? She wasn’t special. That said, this was such an incredible opportunity. Stark's lab, his technology, Pepper’s knowledge, all the resources and things she could learn, even if they didn't want her in the end - this was way too incredible to pass up. Pepper explained that they were prepared to take her today if she felt ready - the plane was a few minutes away at the airport and already on the runway.

"You'd start your junior year of high school at Midtown, a science school that our current baby Avenger, Peter, goes to," Mr. Stark added before looking at Mrs. Johnson who stared back with a look that dared him to explain the concept of a baby Avenger. "And of course by that I mean he's currently the youngest on the team. Until you join, at least." Miss Johnson, satisfied by the correction and excited by the possibility of a new future for Charlotte, began filling out paperwork to arrange the adoption so it was prepared should she decide to go. This other Avenger she had never heard of piqued her interest, but she had much more pressing issues on her mind. The direction of Charlotte's future was completely in her own hands for the first time in her life.

The air stood still while she sat, tense, trying to wrap her head around her choices. Change was terrifying, but this? This was incredible. She hardly left the orphanage since being dropped off many years ago, but this was a dream come true. Imaginative at heart, she knew there was more in the world for her to explore outside of the orphanage's property lines. Coming to her senses, she breathed deeply and stretched up tall, eyes directly on Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts, both of whom looked back at her hopefully as they imagined again what their life could be like if she said the word.

"Mr. Stark? Ms. Potts?"

They both blew air out of their noses, chuckling with gentle smiles. "Please, call me Tony. And her, Pepper. But - you were saying?"

"I'd like to come with you. Today."

The words escaped Charlotte's lips and the many pieces of the plan were immediately put in motion. With Tony's connections, he was able to expedite the adoption process. Miss Johnson ushered Charlotte around the building, helping collect her things from her room and pack a backpack with her couple of items. They stopped into the classrooms for quick goodbyes to the teachers she had, all of whom were sad she’d be leaving but relieved Charlotte would have a better shot at achieving the potential they saw in her. When Charlotte finally stopped moving for a second, she was out on the front porch with Miss Johnson where the current era of her life began. Tony and Pepper waited at the end of the pathway that connected the door to the sidewalk, holding hands and leaning up against a black Cadillac. Charlotte stole one last look at the orphanage and Miss Johnson, who hugged her, waved, and scurried back inside, leaving Charlotte alone. Lifting her head high and taking a deep breath, Charlotte stepped down the stairs toward her new parents and her new life. Tony slipped into the front seat while Charlotte and Pepper climbed into the backseat of the car. The doors were quickly shut by a man who made his way back to the driver's seat and escorted them away from the only place she had ever known.

Seemingly only moments later, they arrived at the airport and drove straight up to the quinjet after the driver repeatedly showed identification to agents along the way. It was a small plane, lettered with "STARK INDUSTRIES" on both sides in the characteristic large font. The car door opened and she followed Tony's and Pepper’s lead, hopping out and trotting right behind them and on board. They had been quieter than Charlotte expected. This was partially planned, of course - the last thing they wanted to do was overwhelm her on day one. Tony and Pepper both felt confident she was up to the task as her files were outstanding and the child services agents they spoke to were astonished by her. In the plane, Tony took a seat by the window with Pepper across the aisle from him. Charlotte sat across from Tony but was instantly drawn to the window, her eyes filled with more curiosity and wonder than anyone Tony had ever seen. Pepper recognized the look immediately, of course, as the expression Tony made when he had a new idea. Charlotte wasn’t the slightest bit nervous as the plane took off despite it being her first time on a plane - instead, she was instantly mesmerized by the jet engines lifting them off the ground and carrying them across the country. Overcoming her feelings of under-qualification to even be in the same room as Tony and Pepper, she gathered up the confidence to pick Tony's brain the rest of the five-hour flight to New York. She covered all the mechanisms behind how the quinjet worked and all the extra technology he installed. He showed her designs on his laptop, which she quickly pulled into her lap and scanned thoroughly, learning more and more every second.

Tony beamed as Charlotte's eyes danced around the screen, taking in every bit of information she could. She quickly set the laptop back on the small table between them and angled the screen so they could both see it, pointing at something with another detailed question about some component of the plane's engineering noted on the blueprint. While she tried to form her question, he glanced from the screen where she was pointing to her face. Her eyes shined the brightest he had seen so far and, though cliché, it was like he was watching her emerge from her shell. Pepper watched them both fondly; this was everything she and Tony dreamed of. Excitement radiated from Charlotte and Tony loved every second of it. Already feeling the reward that comes with raising a child and watching them grow, a weight on their shoulders they didn't know he carried lifted. Their eyes met briefly in between her questions and both sighed with relief. They had a happy family and were headed home. Each of them turned back to watch Charlotte, the incredible kid sitting in front of them, as they looked fondly at the outcome of their own life-changing decision to adopt her.

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