#Because the rest. They hate the war but not as much as Cassie.

[meixiaotian]

still thinking about how each animorph's fate is directly related to how much they enjoyed the war

#animorphs #I swear I saw a post about this years ago but I don't know where it is #so I guess I'll say it again #Rachel loves the war. She flourishes in it. She self-actualizes. And it's terrible #She and her friends don't even know what peacetime Rachel would look like. *Can* she even exist outside of the war? #And it turns out #No! She can't! Peacetime Rachel never comes to pass! She dies before the war is over! #While Ax. Ax is relatively unbothered. He did enlist in the Andalite military after all. He's not as haunted as the rest of them #After Rachel dies he's the next. Peace comes but he chases the echoes of the war and it ends him. #In some awful way where he's gone but he's not. Not exactly dead but absorbed into a greater hive mind #And of course Cassie hates the war. Hates fighting hates killing hates it the whole way through #And when it's over she manages to move on. She spends her days saving the environment #And when battle again comes knocking at her door she says no #She says goodbye. She knows she'll never see the rest of them again. #Because the rest. They hate the war but not as much as Cassie. #And they try to move on but unlike Cassie they can't. #So off they go to enter into another war. And maybe they survive but maybe they don't #Leaving only Cassie as the real survivor of the war. Alone on Earth while her friends all went to die in space #goddamn #I hated the last book as a kid #I still wish they had a happier ending #but there's so much to chew over and cry about #it's a really good ending

[little-engineer-who-cant]

The ramifications of Cassie Sandsmark

Part 10 of Sirens Scream Names Forgotten by Tomorrow, Laid to Rest in Infinity

(also posted under cut)

Note: Cassie herself does not have much of a presence in this story. This is about the implications of her existence and how her presence affects those who lived through the Titan War.

“Tell me father, which do you ask forgiveness for: what I am or what I am not? Tell me mother, which should I regret: what I became, or what I didn’t?”

- thoughts of a stray iii (m.a.w)

He finally goes to one of those stupid charity galas Bruce always throws. Dick’s pestered him so much, Jason’s been to enough dinners where he’s subject to subtle hints, sad eyes and pointed looks from his various other-

(Oh, please, do go on.)

The others are nothing. Dick is his only sibling. Dick’s pestered him enough that Jason’s finally given in to his requests to come to at least one gala.

“Are you sure about this?” Silena asks him for the first time in two hours but it feels like the millionth for how many times he’s asked himself the same question.

(Sounds like you have your answer then.)

(Yeah, I do.)

“I am,” he replies, hand curling in a tight fist around the gear shift. The plastic creaks. “I… Maybe you can find something. Out. About. Um. Yeah.”

“Jason.” Their fingers slot together over the knob before she pulls his grip away from damaging the car and onto the leather-covered console instead. He’s transfixed by the small scars on her knuckles, nearly invisible but he knows what to look for. What to look beyond. No one else will know a thing. “I know you hate it. You don’t need to bring me.”

“You’ll go out anyway.” Her measured inhale, the start of a calm argument, confirms it. “Can I ask that, just for tonight, you hunt where I can see you?”

“Will it help you more if I hunt or if I back you up?” He tips his head back on the headrest, swearing under his breath.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I don’t want any more eyes on you. I don’t want… anyone else to find you.”

“Jason,” she squeezes his fingers, he looks over. She’s beautiful in the blinding flare of the setting sun, heavy eyes and drawn lips and resigned shoulders. “Love. They’ll find me eventually.”

“I know.” It’s not in his power to keep her a secret. Hasn’t been since he ran to her, since he revealed… Everything. 

“If we know they’re coming…”

“We can better prepare.” He still can’t let her go, can’t open the door and let this world in, let it touch her. 

(Kill her.)

He swears again, vicious words breaking free until she stifles them with a finger over his lips. 

“I’ve hidden for a long time,” she decides for them both, and he loves her for it because he can’t. “But the world’s spun on. Show me.”

“It left me behind too,” he reminds her. But he’s opening the door, stepping out and so is she, smiling brightly over the top of the flashy sports car.

“Then let’s rediscover it?” He loves her, he swears by every god in the privacy of his heart, letting it flow over his being and into her. Framed in sunlight with the jewels in her ears and around her neck shining bright, she gleams like cut crystal as she glides over to him. The slight pull of the scar on her cheek begs him to press his lips to her, to taste the proof of her reality. “I’m braver when you’re beside me.” 

“Let’s be brave together then,” he gives into the impulse, kissing just below her eye, on the teardrop he knows is burned into her skin. Her lips brush the J on his skull, the spider web across his temple. 

“We fit in at least,” Silena whispers as they leave the car and climb the stairs, squeezing his hand tight. He can feel the tremble in her as eyes turn their way, the people dotted across the front lawn and entry gardens taking note of strange faces in rich clothes and fine jewels. Their eyes linger on the royal blue of her flowing skirts, the streak of white in his hair, the way their fingers knotted together screams mine.

It’s only her shaking hand in his that keeps him from fleeing as the doors open on a fancy ballroom, away from all this false glitz and glamor and back out into the cesspool city. Only her equally nervous presence among these hordes of wealthy liars swarming around them and his promise to Dick, who is nowhere to be seen.

Jason leads them to the bar. Those fancy flutes of champagne aren't either of their style.

The eyes make him nervous. Everyone seems to be staring. Of course they are, Silena is beautiful, bright and magnificent on his arm, looking like she belongs among the painstakingly carved Master statues dotting the room. He cleans up well enough.

The bartender takes Silena’s order. Then his.

Shoes shiny enough to be mirrors tap nervously, his jaw tensing and clicking before he forces out another breath to relax, only to wind himself back up again. There’s nothing Silena can do about it but temper his agitated appearance with her own calm and benign one.

Her drink comes first. His hands twitch for lack of anything to do.

It’s been a year, at least, since they walked in the door. 

“Maybe you could help me?” she asks him softly, looking up through her lashes as his head whips to her.

“Help you with what?” he bites out but she can clearly taste that the annoyed anger is not aimed at her so she blows out a breath and lets it go. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she soothes, running a hand down his arm and his heart flutters a bit. “But I am a bit lost. Perhaps you can point out some people for me?” 

His drink arrives. He drains half of it. Stops. Breathes. Follows her tug away from the bar and towards a potted fern that’s relatively unoccupied.

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, but there’s a defeated edge to it. Pointing people out, analyzing the situation under the guise of helping her navigate it, it will take the worst edges off his strain. She can make very educated guesses as to who these people are, but that doesn’t help Jason at all so she’ll play ignorant for his sake.

Bruce hasn’t shown himself.

“Start by pointing out Bruce’s horde,” she suggests. “So I know when they start showing up on my doorstep.”

“Okay,” Jason takes a deep breath. “Over there, with the blonde hair, that’s Stephanie…”

—

“That’s Connor Kent.” Jason points at the dark haired teenager talking to Tim and looking distinctly uncomfortable in the fancy environment.

“Ah. And who’s she?” She nods to the cute blonde girl hovering by Tim and the newly identified Connor.

“That’s Cassie Sandsmark.” Abruptly, Jason looks uncomfortable. Silena tilts her head at him. “I…” he blows out a hard breath, then slumps against the door-frame they’ve taken refuge in, “it completely slipped my mind or I would have said something sooner. She’s one of Tim’s friends, so I steer clear but…”

“Spit it out, Jason.”

“... She’s a daughter of Zeus.” Silena’s heart freezes in her chest. 

“What.”

“I… Yeah.” The confirmation, the lack of arguing, the lack of… anything, it cuts her to the core, spills her intestines out across this fine ball except she’s all cinched into her lovely silks, blood stained and shining like a diamond.

Panicking.

“How old is she?” The girl looks to be older, too old- if she was born after the war, she’d be barely out of diapers. You know what this means.

“What?”

“How old is she?” Jason blinks at her like he’s never seen her before. Maybe he hasn’t. She can’t remember ever being this angry since she’s met him. Defeated? Yes. Resigned? Yes. Wildly trying to hold her life together with both desperate hands? Absolutely yes. But this rage? This she hasn’t felt in a long time.

“... Sixteen? Seventeen? Right around Tim I think.”

“I have to go.” 

“Silena-” She doesn’t wait, she can’t be here. I can’t see her . She can’t see this child, she’s a child, you can’t blame her, it’s not her fault-

But she’s everything we could have had.

Acknowledgement. Openness. Freedom. She fights in the open, with heroes she can call on if something goes wrong. Not scurrying around street corners, praying a hungry monster doesn’t find you for lunch and with nowhere to go but the next ditch big enough to hide in, no one to call, no way to call without getting caught. Not bleeding out on concrete and screaming for a parent who won’t answer. 

“Hello?” Dick Grayson is in front of her, blinking in confusion, then his eyes flick up to where Jason is undoubtedly barging his way after her, if he gets to me I’ll spill my guts and he’ll do something rash, I have to leave- “I’m sorry, you must be-”

“Give me a five minute head start?” she bargains sweetly, the words sticking to the inside of her mouth like thick honey, coating the air in sickeningly pink spun sugar, making him blink heavily before he smiles widely and pats her shoulder.

“Of course. Explain why later?”

“Thank you.” If she ever sees this brother again, she’ll lie and he’ll believe her. That’s the way of things. 

“Better get moving,” he scoots out of her way, putting his body between her and her pursuer, your sacrifice will be remembered. “Jason! Buddy!”

She gets farther than she expected, sees the light at the end of the tunnel in the form of a side door, damn, maybe I will give Dick a few grains of truth, when it all goes to hell. Jason is too damned perceptive and adaptive and he knows her too well, gods damn it all why am I seeing a vigilante? She has to be at the top of her game to lose him and unfortunately, that means she loses focus on everything else pretty fucking quick. 

That means she runs straight into the object of her ire. Right into Cassie Sandsmark.

“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” I can’t do this. “You’re new, are you Jason’s girlfriend that Tim told me about? I’ve been hoping to meet you. Everyone has, they talk about you so much!” I can’t do this. “Right! Where are my manners? Hi, my name’s Cassie,” the girl sticks out her hand, beaming at Silena who swallows around bile and her own, gut searing hate.

“Anna.” That’s who she is to this city, always will be but to a certain few. Silena Beauregard is dead to the world. Just like so many others but here you fucking are-

“Nice to meet you Anna, are you enjoying the party?”

“I was just about to leave, actually.” Lying is like breathing, she is a child she’s not to blame. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Get some rest and feel better?” Jason is getting close, having finally shaken Dick, his face a terrible mix of  thunderousfuriousconcernedscared and she has to go or she’s going to turn into a blubbering mess in the middle of this fancy gala, screaming for justice from beings that don’t care anyways right in front of the girl who’s entire existence is a slap in the face to so many dead children. 

“I will, thank you.” And she fucking books it.

—

Thalia picks up on the first ring, thank the gods.

“I can’t talk for long.”

“It’s Silena.” Giving her the option to just hang up right out the gate, to take the guilt off Silena’s own shoulders. If Thalia brushes her off, she won’t call back. Their truce only extends as far as wounded Hunters in the wrong place at the worst time.

“... Why did you call me?” This is not one of those times.

“I…” Do you have to give her this pain? “This was a mistake, I’m sorry-”

“Silena, wait.” There’s a long moment of silence between them, separated by caverns of miles and loyalties and morals. Cinched together by blood, and there’s nowhere else to go- “Why did you call?”

“Wonder Girl,” she whispers, this is a mistake. “I…”

“What about her?” 

“Never mind, I shouldn’t say-”

“Silena.”

“... She’s a kid, Thalia. None of us should hate her but…” Silena buries her head in her hands, yanking at handfuls of her hair just to feel the grounding pain in her scalp. “I had to leave, I couldn’t stay.” 

“What does this have to do with why you called me?”

“She’s a daughter of Zeus and she’s sixteen.” Silence. Utter silence. She stares at the charred ground where she's burned dozens of other demigods, ones far less powerful than the girl running around at the gala now without a fear in the world. Dozens who had been hunted, mangled, chewed up and spit back out only to be kicked down to Hades without so much as a by-your-leave. “I’m sor-”

“Thank you for telling me,” Thalia’s voice is a raw whisper through the already crackling speaker. 

Click.  

Silena pulls the phone from her ear. Probably for the best, she’s pushed her luck far enough already. She’s not that far from Gotham, nor is she that insane. Zeus had one fucking job and he had to fuck it up twice?

There’s a rustle behind her. You didn’t get away fast enough.

“How much did you hear?” Only his perfectly shined dress shoes are visible in her left peripheral, coming to a silent stop next to her, both of them staring at the burned ground. It’s an olive branch.

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to use a phone?”

“Hm.”

“Silena.” 

“This is where I burn them,” she admits, curling around herself. “The ones who don’t make it. A shroud, two drachma and prayers to see them down to Hades.” She’s losing her battle with tears. “I… She’s a child, it’s not her fault. But… she’ll never know. She’s been so safe and she doesn’t even know it. How…” shoving her face into her knees, she loses the war against her enraged despair completely. “How am I supposed to look at her, knowing Thalia? Knowing Nico? Percy? Knowing what I did? And Zeus just went out and broke his oath again with no regards and she’s sixteen, Jason! Thalia will never be sixteen! Nico lost seventy years because Zeus was so fucking afraid of Hades that he wanted to kill Nico! Bianca lost those same seventy years for nothing because now she’s dead! And Percy had to give Luke the knife that Luke used to take his own life and he lives with that-” her body is shaking uncontrollably, but she can’t stop, this has built up for too long. Throwing her head backwards, she glares up at the hidden stars her mother, her enemy, lives among and screams- “We were all children, why was she the one that was spared?!” 

The silence is an answer in itself.

“Why her?” she whispers, knowing he doesn’t have an answer and never will. There is no answer. Not really. “Why her?” 

—

“What would life have been like?” Clarisse tips her head back, staring at where the stars would have been if Gotham wasn’t covered in a large veil of light pollution. “To just,” she snaps her fingers, “turn it all off?”

“Normal.” Silena grinds her chin deeper into her forearms. “Gods…”

“They’re the ones that got us into this mess, cupcake.”

“Shut up.” But it’s half-hearted at best. Clarisse chuckles, her hip pressing into Silena’s shoulder in a familiar streak of warmth. 

“Do we tell her?” That’s the million dollar question. Do we tell her? Tell her what exactly? Tell her about the horrors she’d missed? About the sister who gave up normality to prevent a prophecy that never even touched Cassie? About the piles of bodies left the wake of godly ambitions, the piles yet to come?

“I don’t know. On one hand, she should know she’s not alone, that there are a bunch of us out there. But on the other…”

“She’s missed all this shit. We shouldn’t drag her in just because we’re jealous.” Jealous. That’s the one word Silena’s been avoiding and Clarisse threw it out like it was no big deal. Jealous.  

Because that’s just it, isn’t it? She’s jealous that Cassie Sandsmark has gotten this far relatively scot-free. That there’s a large chance the girl doesn’t wake up at stupid o’clock every night, body tight and breathing quick, soaked in sweat and biting back screams. Clawing at her own face, straining in vain to see from a useless eye.

“I used to wonder why Mom hated me,” Silena admits quietly. Clarisse exhales. “When I got to camp. Why didn't she love me enough to make sure the monsters never found me? Why couldn’t I live with my normal family? Mom had to hate me, because if she didn’t, then I could go home without something trying to eat my little brother when we went for a walk. But I figured out that all the gods hate their children, don’t they? In some way, they all hate us eventually. Because we fail. We’re mortal. We’re not perfect. They put us up to impossible tasks again and again until we fail.” Clarisse’s hand trembles as she runs it through Silena’s hair. “But I think…” Silena swallows around the realization she stumbled across far too young, “our worst sin is that we’re not them.” 

Clarisse slides to the grating, sitting down next to where Silena is slumped and leans their temples together. Neither of them speak again, two jealous daughters of unsatisfied gods offering each other empty comfort. What else is there to say?

—

“You mean to tell me,” her knuckles are white where they’re clenched in her lap, out of Tim Drake’s sight, “that Zeus gave her mother the ability to turn her powers off?” Jason left with Dick to do something likely illegal and to keep her away from at least one curious Bat. Otherwise, she might let her trigger happy boyfriend drop-kick a child and that impulse was not something she wanted to examine right now.

Not when she has to entertain someone who broke into her apartment on behalf of a friend she wants to stab a little more than this particular interloper. Which is also not an impulse she’s particularly fond of examining.

“Yeah,” Tim nods as he takes another deep gulp of the black-as-night coffee that she keeps stocked for her revolving door of child soldiers running on fumes. If Tim bitches that she only keeps Jason’s preferred brand and uses a drip pot instead of a French press like Dick did not even two hours ago, she might lose what little of her shit she has left. “It was a whole thing, right? Like they lied to her all her life, but they’re cool now.”

“Cool now,” she mumbles, feeling the skin of her palms give under the pressure of her newly filled acrylic nails. She smiles as vacantly as she is able through clenched teeth. “I’ve just never heard of something like that before.”

“I don’t think demigoddesses are exactly around every corner, do you?” he grins at her and she smirks back like they’re sharing a joke instead of it being on him. “And daughters of Zeus at that.” It takes every bit of five years of you’re a spy discipline for the red in her vision to recede enough that she can actually see that Tim has sobered again. “She’s had a rough go of it,” he continues quietly, swirling his coffee, “with everyone having lied to her, even Diana. But she’s doing better.” 

“That’s good.” I have never hated another human so much without knowing them and this is a fucking child, it is not her fault, you know that it’s not her fault, get a hold of yourself you insane woman-

“And I was talking to her and she says she’s sorry for whatever she did that made you run away from her?” She can’t fix that. “She swears she won’t hurt anyone, she has control of her powers.” Her nails pop out of her palms. There’s blood, she can feel it drip, drip, dripping all over her hands. Where it belongs.

“I’m not worried that she’ll hurt me.” Hero or not, the girl would be hard pressed to go against Silena, who can hamstring her with a few words. Cassie’s powers are the least harmful thing about her. “I was having a rough night.” Smiling, Silena weaves a tale like she has so many times before and Tim is none the wiser, “and I really wasn’t making a good impression. For that, I apologize to everyone involved.”

“Have you apologized to Jason? He seemed really worried.” Whatever detente Bruce’s two wards have come to, it’s clearly only a ceasefire on Jason’s end. Likely for Dick’s sake. But what does it mean to Tim? Obviously more, by the way he’s expressing concern for Jason. It’s sweet, if not a little bit sad. There will always be a barrier between them, Silena knows, and it’s a barrier that Bruce put there.

“He was the first person I talked to.” There wasn’t a need for an apology. Jason had just held her as she cried in the graveyard. Jason had carried her home and refused to leave her side. He’d been the one to call Clarisse. 

“That’s good. He really seems to like you. Talked to Dick about you a lot. Enough that Dick mentioned you to us. We’ve all been wanting to meet you. And he brought you to the gala, so he really likes you.” 

“Hm.” I know. She can taste his love and she knows Jason knows she can too. He doesn’t hide it. “I like him too.” There’s a lot more than like there. If she wasn’t so sure that Aphrodite would take it as an insult that Silena even got a drip of happiness, she’d do her damndest to keep him. You already are, come what may.  

If a drop of water can keep a man from dying, this sliver of happiness might be what saves her soul.

“I can tell,” Tim takes another sip of coffee, like that will hide the goofy little grin he’s trying to smother. “Dick said you’re the first, um, normal person who’s been around? Shit, that sounds bad, but like I mean it like you’re not a superhero- Ah, I’m bungling this-”

“I get it, I get it.” And she does understand the sentiment, even if it’s not wholly correct. To everyone on the outside, she’s a simple office worker who caught the Red Hood’s eye enough for him to let her near. The Red Hood himself, however, knows the truth is very different and that’s why he’s letting her get so close to other heroes. 

“Are you ever afraid?” Tim asks.

“Hm?”

“Of what might happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, how the Joker might come after you?” Kronos had me in his maw. “That you might get hurt?” I’m blind in one eye and have scars to prove I survived the impossible. “That someone might, I don’t know, turn on you to get to Jason?” I turned on people I loved and they died for it.

“No.” She’s done all that and more already. “No. I’ll take whatever comes and I’ll face it as best I can. I’m not going to live in a shadow of fear.” 

“You’re braver than a lot of people.” She shrugs.

“I’m alive,” she replies simply, “and sometimes those two are the same thing.”

“Huh,” Tim chuckles, taking a very deep drag of coffee. “Philosophical. No wonder you and Jason get along.” She smiles again, wiping her bloody palm discreetly on a napkin before taking a sip of her own tea. Swallows down peppermint and a million secrets next to Tim’s butterscotch curiosity. “Will you tell me what his favorite book is? I’m looking for Christmas ideas and I really want to get on his good side. All things considered,” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “I know it’s not like my fault but I still feel bad for, I dunno, usurping him? Even if he was dead. And I know he’s still mad, so I was thinking I’d get him something really nice? Like a first edition of a book or a signed copy or something? I don’t know, do you have any better ideas?”

“I think…” Silena tilts her head at Tim and makes a mental note to talk to Jason about what exactly had happened between them later. “You’re at a good starting point. And he doesn’t have a good collection of the classics anymore. I’d recommend The Odyssey.” Tim nods, clearly thinking hard. “But, if you really want to do something extraordinary,” he perks up as she grins over the rim of her mug. “I think his old collection is still at the Manor and he hasn’t managed to sneak all of it out yet.”

#silena beauregard #jason todd #clarisse la rue #cassie sandsmark #thalia grace #tim drake #dick grayson #batman #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing #ao3 link

[lassieposting]

What do you think the Dead Men / other skulduggery pleasant characters pet names would be for their SO?

OKAY SO

here's the rundown

DEAD MEN

ghasdug: they don't really use pet names. ghastly sometimes calls skug skul, which skug hates, but he gets away with it by dint of having done it since they were teens. they get together at 16 and for most of their relationship skug doesn't use affectionate nicknames or pet names for anyone. He does sometimes fondly call ghastly bespoke, though.

sexter: dexter is just dex, mostly - not just with saracen, but with all his lovers. saracen is like 5'9 to dexter's 6ft, so dexter fondly refers to him as big guy.

shudderkin: shudder isn't a pet name person, but he is pretty much the only person who regularly calls larrikin by his first name, rover. on the flipside, larrikin will answer to pretty much anything, and shudder promptly gets nicknamed altar boy, in honour of all that religious guilt he carries around.

other: ghastly was a sergeant major during the war. everyone who doesn't outrank him still occasionally whines "but sarge," if he's telling them off for something.

BAD BOY BRIGADE

violent: their relationship is a closely guarded secret for a long time, so in public they're professional: vile calls mevolent your grace, and mevolent calls vile general. in private, over the years, mevolent will sometimes fondly refer to vile as rouquin ("little redhead" or "little ginger" in Middle French). vile doesn't use pet names at all, but he does call mev mevolent, rather than an honorific title, which isn't something many people get to do

nefmev: they don't do pet names, especially not from nef. he's pretty smitten with mevolent, but mev sees him as a convenient casual hookup whenever he wants one, so he won't get away with over-familiarity in the same way vile could if he was the pet name type. he's one of mevolent's closest advisors, and in the war room, to a certain degree he gets to talk to mev like an equal and argue with him, but that doesn't really carry over to the bedroom. nef is used to messed up power dynamics, so this never really strikes him as odd.

sorrowscorn: they're both rather fond of darling

baronscorn: they have their own little awkward thing where she calls him husband and he calls her wife. the rest of the court are not entirely sure whether these are affectionate pet names or whether they are just strange ultra-repressed oddballs who think that's how normal people speak. vile and mevolent have a running bet.

GOOD GUYS (MISC)

cassdug: she's not flowery at all about her pet names - he's usually either love or lovey, depending on her mood. he doesn't really go in for them with her, but he does call her cassie in private, which is. very unusual for him, seeing as he pretty much never shortens names.

skulpine: skug calls nef nefarian. this is significant to nef because he isn't on first-name terms with leibniz!skug, and he gets visibly annoyed when og!skug keeps calling him nefarian in lsodm/tdotl. as his obsession shifts from skug-as-enemy to skug-as-ally, he starts to like the informality, because it makes him feel like skug likes him, and at a certain point he starts reciprocating by going from "the skeleton" or "detective pleasant" to skulduggery. these aren't actually pet names for skug though - he and og!serpine are on first name terms the whole way through book one, so this is normal to him.

valdug: pet names are pretty rare from him, and non-existent from her, but he does call her dear every now and then. neither of them are really the type that show affection like this.

skugwife: easily the most petnamey couple here - he's my darling and she's dearest. when they're courting and writing to each other, him at the front and her back in dublin, his letters begin with "dearest clary" and hers always end with "be safe, my darling". they keep this sappy shit up until she's killed, and even after - he vaguely remembers hallucinating her comforting him and telling him to come with me, my darling when he was being slowly tortured to death in serpine's dungeon, and that's the incident her ghost tells him about in tdotl - "we watched you suffer, we tried to get you to come with us".

vilekyrie: not so much a pet name, but i've always had a headcanon that when vile has nonverbal periods, he communicates with little shadow emojis like the sandman in rise of the guardians. he has one for her, like (🙎🏻), and mostly uses it to show he's worried about her if she's upset (🙎🏻❓) or that he's happy to see her/wants to show her something (🙎🏻❗) or say "I love you" (🙎🏻❤). sometimes his shadows will make the little signs in his sleep, and she can tell he's talking to her in his dreams. she sees it as almost a pet name. when he's talking though, they don't really have any.

(@bubblemoon66 do they have pet names in the spy!au? now im curious)

soldug: they mostly call each other by their surnames (pleasant/wreath) or by titles (detective/cleric), so their version of pet names is just...informality. if they use skulduggery or solomon, it's usually affectionate or concerned.

skug's siblings: after skug's mother is killed, he gets custody of the five youngest siblings. respair, the youngest, is only like four, and still has a little-kid lisp, and can't actually say 'skulduggery'. So skug gets to spend several unfortunate years as...well...skug thkug. respair grows out of it - eventually. raising kids is a thankless, embarrassing job.

BAD GUYS (MISC)

vilequesse: she frequently refers to him as my little toy or my pet. he doesn't really have one for her (but vilekyrie!au vile does have a sign for darquesse, and it's different to his one for val, which is. a relief for her tbh because for a while she's not actually sure whether he knows there's a difference)

tanguine: brs is a good ol' southern boy, so he has a whole bunch of names for tanith. honey bun, sweetheart, sugar, dumplin', all the typical schmoopy food ones. if she asks him something, he'll often answer her with either "yes ma'am" or "no ma'am". tanith, being all remnanty, isn't overly given to genuine displays of affection, but in a world where he survives tdotl and they figure it out, she mostly opts for babe

#skulduggery pleasant #sp headcanons #i think this is all my ships #i may have missed someone but. i cannot brain

[nanopathictendencies]

The Lang Dynasty

Just wanna preface this by saying comic books are generally corny. Costumes, dialogue, premises, etc. There may be nostalgia here and there for some people; sometimes serious topics are addressed but overall, it's a carnival of corny and I would hope that people who review things keep that in mind when reviewing comic book movies.

/soapbox

Just did another watch of Quantumania and I felt it was serviceable.

I actually liked M.O.D.O.K., I am not intimately familiar with the character but it seems in line with what they were doing on Hulu.

Cassie wasn't out of place as a MCU character, a lot of which was pseudo and super science filled with tinkering geeks until Dr. Strange and WandaVision came about. At no point did I find myself hating the character or the portrayal, nor was I cheerleading her actions.

Scott came off as a caricature of what Captain America was played off as; kinda boy scouty and doofy. Not much depth to be found here.

The Pyms and Van Dynes gave off some dark vibes; Janet's secrets and Squirrel Girl Hank (if she wasn't so happy cheery). Hank could pull off being a super villain if he wanted to; Wasp seemed like filler.

Most of the VFX was nice (beautiful even) but you could see missteps in the motion of the micronized and in some of the fight choreography.

A lot of comparisons to Star Wars; felt more like Valerian (visually) even though Bill Murray reminded m of Carl Weathers in The Mandelorian.

Kang reminded me of a less bipolar? Kylo Ren; very, and intentionally measured, with explosive bouts of anger (which came off different considering the charges Johnathan Majors is/was facing). They may have to reshoot the post credit if they recast him.

Liked the red jelly alien dude and the head cannon dude too.

Side point: I like how Spiderman presents like characters in its take on the multiverse; all the Peters didn't have to be the same exact person; no "goateeverse". If the rest of the MCU followed suit, a recast here and there wouldn't raise eyebrows as much?

And what would a MCU flick be without some phallic reference or another (some day I'll muster up the energy to find all the dick jokes in the MCU).

I wouldn't pay to see it in theaters (because I'm a "frugal" bastard) but would definitely RedBox or stream it.

#mcu #disney+ #marvel #ant man #ant man and the wasp quantumania #kang

[inheritedcreatures]

cassandra de rolo

woah! was that CASSANDRA DE ROLO walking down main street? i heard they’re not actually from ivy cove but come from CRITROLE (VOX MACHINA). they’re TWENTY-THREE and live in GLEN OAK HEIGHTS but watch out because they can be VENGEFUL + IRRESOLUTE but are actually CURIOUS + HEARTFELT. despite them HAVING memories, you’ll always think of BEING CRUSHED UNDER THE WEIGHT OF THE HORRIBLE THINGS YOU'VE DONE; THE SHATTERED MEMORY OF CHILDHOOD; "YOU WERE NEVER MOTHER'S FAVORITE, SHE TOLD ME."; SPENDING A LIFETIME MAKING UP FOR YOUR SINS; & THE IDEA OF FALLING AND NO ONE CATCHING YOU when imagining them. / esmé creed-miles, she/they.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

name. cassandra johanna von musel klossowski de rolo.alias. cassandra de rolo. cass. cassie. age. twenty-three (23). gender. nonbinary. pronouns. she/they. occupation. horror fiction writer. memories. yes.

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

history of man / maisie peters - he stole our youth / and promised heaven / the men start wars / yet troy hates helen / women's hearts are lethal weapons / did you hold mine and feel threatened?blood upon the snow / hozier - i walked the earth and there are so few here that know / how dark the night and just how cold the wind can blow / i've no more hunger now to see where the road will go / i've no more kept my warmth / than blood upon the snowused to be young / miley cyrus - the truth is bulletproof, there's no fooling you / i don't dress the same / me and who you say i was yesterday / have gone our separate ways

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒.

being crushed under the weight of the horrible things you've done. all you've ever wanted was someone who would stay. the shattered memory of childhood that you'd rather just forget. blood and more blood, there's so much blood. "you were never mother's favorite, she told me." a circlet made to rest on your brow that you never show have worn. spending a lifetime making up for your sins and then some. living with your demons. the idea of falling and no one being there to catch you.

#your sister lives // cassandra de rolo #intro

[sn0wshimmer]

so like, that animorphs starfish book but if it was Cassie instead of Rachel.

When Cassie re-emerges from starfish morphs, there are two parts of her.

One of them is Morality Cassie. The one that cares about other people, who questions the ethics of what the team is doing. She's so paralyzed by how much she cares that she can't get anything done. She's compassionate. She's what the others usually think when they think of Cassie.

But the second one. The second one is Manipulative Cassie. This is the one who psychoanalyzes. This is the one that lured David to his death. This is the Cassie that can listen to someone scream for hours on end as long as it's for their own good. Manipulative Cassie doesn't care about that though. She's cold, ruthless. Terrifying. She plans and they're good plans, but she doesn't care about people. She makes these plans with the full intent of manipulating and betraying people, of leaving them broken because nothing matters to her. She hits the animorphs team where it hurts, dividing them and turning them against each other for the thrill of it.

Everyone realizes how terrifying Cassie can really be and I think that they would view her very differently throughout the rest of the war. She and Rachel stay a hell of a lot closer, though. Rachel is the gun and Cassie is the psychological weapon. She hates it. She hates herself for being capable of it. Her relationship with Jake, though, decays a hell of a lot faster. He uses her as a weapon and she damn well knows it. Their relationship is fraught with conflict, even though she knows it's out of necessity and that the war's made monsters of them all.

"Why did you stop treating me like a person?"

"I didn't."

"No, Jake. You know I'm smarter than that."

"Yeah. I guess I do."

#animorphs #cassie animorphs #cassie and jake

[marvelsimp]

The New Kid: Arrived

The New KId Masterlist

Ch. 4

Genre: Fluff, Angst Pairing: Peter x Lesbian!reader (Platonic duh), Avengers & Reader Warnings: swearing, nerdiness, mentions of homophobia and being kicked out, panic attack, Description: Y/n's birthday continues. Reader’s Powers: Healing, telepathy, and empath. Word Count: 2,217

“Cupcake, please.” says a small voice, Morgan.

This causes the room to erupt in everyone’s laughter including your own.  The group then sings “Happy Birthday” to you and as you blow out the candles you wish that one day your parents will love you enough and that if that doesn’t that you will be okay.

“Morgan,” you say calmly, “You get to pick the first cupcake since you asked so nicely.”

She smiles and jumps up and down. She takes a second but finally picks one. You decide to take the one from the top and very happily take a bite.

“Hey, before everyone splits off,” Peter says, “Let’s get Y/n to open her presents!”

Presents? Seriously? Today was honestly enough. You open your mouth to protest but Peter stuffs your cupcake in your face and leads you to a chair that’s surrounded by gifts. He forces you to sit down just as you get the last bit of icing off of your nose.  “You guys seriously didn’t have to get me gifts, today was enough.”

“Shut up,” Peter retorts.

You put your hands saying, ‘ok fine.’

“Open mine first!” yells Carol.

You blush, you honestly forgot you were still holding it.  You open the bag and inside is a Captain Marvel plushie, you let out a chuckle and get it out of the bag to show everyone. There are a few laughs and aww’s around the room. You look up at Carol who’s grinning and give her a nod of approval which she seems to enjoy.

You next grab a small box it reads ‘The Starks’ and you open it, it’s a bracelet. Tony tells you about its functions and how to use it.  Most importantly, you can get her to send messages although you can’t hear Friday through it.  

The next gift is from Nat and Clint, it’s a few sets of training clothes. She informs you that in a week you’ll start basic combat training, you aren’t too excited but it's better than dying.  That training will also help teach you about the present from the Starks.

Next is a gift from Scott, Hope, and Cassie it’s a beautiful Captain Marvel necklace. You look up at Peter, “So you told EVERONE.”  There are a few nods around the room, and you can feel carol trying not to laugh.  You blush a little harder.

Next is a gift from Sam, Steve, and Bucky as you open it you let out an evil laugh, there’s around Spider-Man pillow. You quickly pull it out of the bag and smack Peter in the face causing him to fall on the floor.  There is an eruption of laughter. “Okay, I like her!” Sam yells.  You look back in the bag and there is a set of matching Spiderman PJ’s.  You get them out and toss a pair to Peter, who is still on the floor.  There were a few ‘awws’ to that one.

“Well,” I’ve got to put this one to bed,” Pepper said standing up.

Morgan pouted.

Pepper picked her up, dismissing Morgan’s protests. “I might come back down once she’s asleep. Happy Birthday, Y/n!”

“Happy Birthday,” waved Morgan who was still very annoyed that she had to sleep.

“Sweet Dreams,” you tell Morgan waving back.  As they get on the elevator you pick up a tiny bag that’s from Ned, when you open it you discover a Deathstar keychain. You tear up a little bit and explain to everyone how you met Peter.  (In case you don’t remember, Y/n first messaged Peter after he posted a picture of the LEGO DethStar.)

Next, you open it from MJ, it has three books in it.  MJ is quick to explain that she wanted to share her favorite but couldn’t pick just one.  You thank her you know how important books are to her.  

Next is a rectangular box from Thor ‘and Loki’ seems to be added later.  In it is a simple yet beautiful dagger, it leaves you a little confused, but Nat offers to teach you how to use it and you accept.  

You still three gifts and one card left. You decide to go on ahead and open up the card, it’s from Rhodey. You open it and it’s just a simple Birthday card signed Rhodey and $20 falls out when you open it.  “Like I said I didn’t know until this morning and I had to come from the west coast.”  His defense makes you smile, and you assure him that you’re pleased.  

Next is a large gift bag from Wanda inside is a large amount of “spa day” items, bath bombs, face masks, candles, etc.  You tell all the teens, including her, that there has to be a spa day.  The girls accept pretty quickly while Ned and Peter are a little more hesitant but accept anyways.  The next gift is from Bruce, it’s a decently large box.  

You start to unwrap it and discover it to be a microscope, you let out an excited gasp.  “I saw yours this morning, it looked ancient so I thought you might enjoy a newer model,” Bruce explains, “We do have some more powerful ones in the lab, but I thought that you might enjoy your own.”  You’re like a kid on Christmas, excited to try out all of your new gifts.

“One more,” Peter smiles handing you a bag.  It’s from him, obviously, you take out the tissue paper and there are two toy lightsabers one has “Peter” engraved on it and the other one has “Y/n.”

“Haha, you nerd!” you giggle out.  You grab yours and toss Peter his. You stand up and turn on your saber. You pause for a second, looking for his approval.   He nods in return.

“I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new empire.”

“Your new Empire?” Peter replies in the worst British accent you’ve ever heard.

You can’t contain your giggles, neither can Peter or Ned.

“Don’t make me kill you,” you say trying to contain your smile.

Tony has his hand on his head, you can hear him mutter, “Dear god, not another one,” under his breath.

“Anakin, my allegiance is to the republic, to Democracy!”

You start to carefully walk around Peter, “If you are not with me, then you are my enemy.”

“Only a Sith deals in absolutes.  I will do what I must.”

“You will try.” That’s when the very epic battle began, as you fought you both making noises like “Vruummummm” or “Schvrmmmm.”  

You could see Bucky’s concerned/confused face that Steve seemed to be amused at.  You also saw Steve lean down and whisper something in Bucky’s ear which seemed to calm him.  Finishing the battle, you jumped up in the air as Peter pretended to chop off your limbs.  

He laughed and reached his hand out for you to get up.  You accept and he pulls you up.  The crowd is laughing and a few of them are clapping so you and Peter bow which causes them to clap a little louder and a few cheers.

“Imma guess that you’ve never seen Star Wars,” you say to Bucky as you go to reclaim your seat. He just shakes his head.

“Well, that’s a problem,” laughs Peter.

You nod, “That means a movie marathon sometime soon.”

Over the next two hours, the group just hangs out.  You disperse back into smaller groups.  Rhodey and Carol have to leave about 30 minutes after the battle.  They both wish you a Happy Birthday and go back to the west coast or space.  

You’re with the teen group, Wanda and you are the only two who are done with high school, Peter, Ned, and MJ still have a year and a half while Cassie has two and a half left.  Wanda is nice, she could snap any of you in half if needed but you know that she wouldn’t.  Cassie is pretty goofy like her dad; she and Wanda aren’t nearly as nerdy as the rest of the group, but they know enough to keep up.  

“Ok so why do you like the sequels better?” Peter asks, he already knows the answer but wants you to say it.

You let out a nervous laugh.  “Come on, Pete.”

He grins waiting for your answer.

“Fine,” you say lowering your head a little bit in shame. “I don’t like the others as much because of how they sound.”

“What?” Ned breathes out.

“I know! It's just… they sound so weird and fake. I hate it.”

Wanda giggles at your answer, which causes you to smile.

“Y/n, I don’t even know what to say,” giggles Ned.  “Seriously, that’s the reason?”

MJ looks down at her phone, “Oh, shit I got a curfew.”

Ned’s eyes widen, “Me, too!”

You hug them both as they wish you Happy Birthday again.

“I kinda wanna put on my PJ’s,” says Cassie, she, Scott, and Hope are staying the night.

“Yeah,” you say looking at Peter, reminding him of your matching PJs’.

As you and Peter go down the hall to go to your rooms, Peter takes you into his room. “I have one more gift for you,” he says smiling a little. He grabs a box from his desk and opens it.  It’s a lesbian pride flag, you smile and wrap your arms around him.  You’ve never had one before.

Peter shoves you out the door after you separate from the hug. He tells you to put on your PJs.  When you walk into your new room you set your new flag on your desk.  You quickly head to your bathroom and change.  When you step back into your room a surge of emotions rush through you.  You’re so happy that you’re there but all that you want to do is tell your parents.  On your bedside table is a picture of the three of you, it’s one of your favorites.  You pick it up.  It was taken on your first day of high school and you all look so happy.  Why couldn’t they just be here? Why did they have to kick you out? Why? Why did they not love you?  You see your tears drop onto the picture.  

Your angry, you’re so angry that they’re not there.  You just want to hug them and tell them about how great your day was and how fun it was.  You want to just want to be able to collapse into them because of how exhausted you are, but you can’t.  You can’t because they are not there.  They’re not there because they kicked you out.  And they kicked you out because they don’t love you enough to have a lesbian as a daughter.  And do you want to know the worst part of it? You still love them.

You throw the picture against the wall, causing the glass to shatter.  Why couldn’t they just love you are you are? You didn’t decide to be this, you just are.  You can’t breathe. You can’t get any air in it's like the world is You let out a sob.  What parents would decide not to abandon their child because of who they love?

Peter enters with some of your gifts.  He sees the picture on the floor and picks it up, putting it on your desk.  He drops the gifts he is holding and rushes to your side.  Steve and Bucky are behind him with gifts in their arms as well. They were smiling at first but now they’re concerned.  Peter sits down on the bed next to you, his eyes are asking you what’s wrong.  Steve and Bucky quickly set down the rest of the gifts and leave.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” he looks concerned, sad.  “You gotta breathe.”

“They don’t love me,” you explain in between sobs.  

Peter’s concern turns into anger, he can’t believe that someone’s parents would kick out their wonderful daughter just because she likes girls.  “Fuck them,” he says pulling you into his chest as you sob.  “You are incredible, Y/n. You deserve the world, but they are too stupid and too blind by their stupid ass beliefs to see that.  You are one of the best, kindest, most intelligent people I know and if they don’t see that as worth it then fuck them.”

You let out a small chuckle.  He tells you to follow his breathing and you do.  After a few minutes, you’ve calmed down.  “I still love them.”

Peter pauses for a second.  “Of course, you do,” he sighs, “You’re allowed to love them, they’re your parents.  But that doesn’t mean that they didn’t hurt you or that you can’t hate them.  THEY are in the wrong, not you.  You never forget that you did absolutely wrong and you are not wrong.  You are perfectly you.” He pauses for a second, not because he doesn't know what to say and not because of what he is going to say, he's told you a million times before so it isn't new.  But because of how important it is that you hear it.  “And I love you, I’ll love you enough for both of them and more, Okay?”

“Okay.”  

“Come on,”  Peter says wiping his eyes.  “Let’s go watch a Pixar movie and eat some ice cream.”

Next Chapter

Arrived - deleted scene

#Avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x platonic reader #peter parker x platonic!reader #peter parker #spiderman #reader #reader-insert #wanda x reader eventual #avengers x lesbian #lesbian #lesbian reader

[gladdygirl18]

Holiday Laughs and Cheer

This was requested by @ticklefiend26. Thx so much 4 the suggestion! I had a blast writing this! Happy Holidays!

Summary: This will be Peter’s first Christmas with the Avengers and another Christmas without his Uncle Ben, so he was kind of feeling a little low on Christmas spirit. Being the father-figure he is, Tony knew exactly how to cheer up the young web-slinging hero.

Word Count: 1769

The Holiday season is finally here. The time for caroling, decorating trees, playing in the snow, and most importantly, spending time with family. The Avengers family is no exception. The Avengers look forward to this time every year. Everyone comes to the facility a week before Christmas to decorate the facility and the tree, buy gifts, and to simply be with one another. Clint, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, and Bucky are on cooking duty. Thor, Rhodey, Tony, Wanda, and Sam are on decorating duty.

Carol couldn’t make it because there was an emergency on another planet, even though she would’ve loved to sing Christmas carols (pun intended); Scott would’ve love to come, but he wanted to spend Christmas with Cassie since he couldn’t for 5 years; T’Challa had a kingdom to rule. There was one Avenger who couldn’t wait to spend Christmas with his teammates, and that was young Peter Parker. Yes, young Peter has been looking forward to this time ever since January. Peter loved everything about the holidays.

However, Peter wasn’t... Peter this time around. He had agreed to help Tony and the others decorate the facility and the tree, but he’s been cooped up in his room all day. No one knows what's eating him and preventing him from leaving his room. The others started to grow worried.

“Where’s the kid? He said he’d help out, and it’s 4 in the afternoon.” Sam asked.

“I have no idea.” Bucky said.

The Falcon looked at the others and they just shrugged their shoulders. Tony let out a sigh and set down a half-wrapped present. Standing up, he cleared his throat and started to leave the room.

“Where are you going, Tony?” Clint asked.

“To look for the kid and make sure he’s all right.” Tony said, leaving the room.

Once Tony was gone, the others looked at one another with faces of concern and worry. When Tony made it to Peter’s room, he knocked on the door and waited for an answer. Nothing. Tony knocked once more. Still nothing. Turning the doorknob, he pushed the door open and was met with a dim-lit room. Scanning the room, Tony saw his protégé laying on his side, his back facing him. Tony breathed out and walked up to the young Avenger.

“Peter...?” Tony asked, shaking the kid’s shoulder.

The kid moaned and shrugged off his mentor’s hand.

“Peter, what’s wrong? You haven’t left your room all day. Everyone’s worried about you; I’m worried about you... Talk to me...” Tony said, sitting on the teen’s bed.

Peter sighed and quickly wiped away the tears that started to form.

“I miss him...” Peter said.

Tony pulled away, wondering who Peter could be talking about.

“Who? Ned? You two talk more than Steve, Sam, and Bucky when they get into an argument.” Tony joked.

Peter didn’t even react to joke. Tony frowned at his failed attempt to brighten the teen’s spirit.

“My Uncle Ben...” Peter muttered.

Tony’s concerned expression quickly turned to a look sympathy. Tony knew good and well about what happened to his uncle, and to not have him during this time of year, again, must be hard. For a short time, Tony felt this way when his parents were killed. Now, he has a new family to call his own, and every day, Tony and the others always try to remind Peter that he is not alone; that he has a place; that he has a home; that he has a family. Now, more than ever, Peter needed this family.

“I know how you feel kid, and I’m sorry. Really, I am.” Tony said, placing a hand on the kid’s shoulder.

Peter breathed out a sigh and shifted his position to get more comfortable. Tony hated seeing him like this. If anything, when it was either him or one of the others, whenever they were upset, just Peter being in their presence will make them smile and forget why they were in a foul mood. Now, it was Tony’s turn to turn this teen’s frown upside-down. Luckily, Tony knew exactly how to do that. He just needed to bait the kid in.

“C’mon, kid. Don’t you wanna help us decorate this place. We could really use your help when it comes to hanging certain decorations,” Tony said.

“Thanks, but no thanks, Mr. Stark... I would like to be left alone if that’s all right with you...” Peter said, his voice sounding so sad.

“No, I’m not all right with that... I’ll give you a choice: you either leave this room smiling and help out the others and I, or do I have to make you smile and leave?”

Peter glanced at his mentor and rolled his eyes with a scoff.

“Do your worst...” Peter challenged tiredly.

Tony couldn’t help but smile at Peter’s sassiness. Cracking his knuckles, Tony started poking around the teen’s sides. Peter breathed in sharp and shifted away from Tony’s fingers. Seeing that the kid wasn’t going to crack, Tony started digging his into the kid’s side. Peter buried his face into the pillow he was clutching, all while letting out adorable giggles.

“Mr. Stahahahahark! Stohohop!” Peter said, his words muffled.

“Sorry, kid. Did you say something? I can’t quite understand you.” Tony said, inching his fingers towards Peter’s belly.

Peter squealed and his giggles started becoming louder.

“Honestly, Pete. I really can’t tell if you’re laughing or crying right now.” Tony said with a smug-eating smirk.

Once Tony’s fingers found Peter’s belly, Peter rolled over on his belly to stop the tickling, only trapping Tony’s hand underneath him.

“Bad move, kid...” Tony said.

Taking advantage, Tony straddled the kid and started attacking the kid’s torso. Peter bucked and thrashed, all while producing his signature giggles. At this point, the pillow Peter was clutching was already off the bed.

“Mr. Stahahahahahahark! Plehehehehehehease stohohohohop!” Peter cried.

“No way, mister. I’m gonna make sure that smile of yours is plastered on your face for the rest of the evening while you’re helping out.” Tony said, kneading the kid’s hip bone.

Peter yelped and tried to buck Tony off.

“That feheheheheheels sohoho weird! Stohohop ihihit!” Peter begged.

“Are you gonna leave this dreadful room and come join me and the others?” Tony asked.

When Peter didn’t answer, Tony took his silence as a no. Sighing, Tony stopped his assault and looked down at the young hero.

“Didn’t want to have to do this to you, kid, but you leave me no choice.” Tony said.

Peter panted as he glanced up at his mentor.

“W-Whahahat can behehe worse thahan tickling?” Peter asked, giggles escaping his lips.

Tony smirked and was able to flip the kid around on his back.

“I think you know...” Tony said.

Peter sighed and shook his head tiredly. That’s when Peter let out a loud shriek before letting out gales of precious laughter.

“NOHOHOHO! NOHOHOT MY ARMPIHIHIHIHITS! STAHAHAHAP!” Peter cried.

“Sorry, Pete, but it’s for your own good.” Tony said as he clawed at the kid’s armpits.

Peter thrashed all around the bed trying to escape, but his laughter was making him weak.

“MR. STAHAHAHARK! PLEHEHEHEASE!” Peter begged.

“Ah-ah-ah. No can do, Spiderman. I wanna hear you say that you’ll spend time with the others and I. Say that, and I’ll stop,” Tony said.

“IHIHIHIHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN’T!”

“Why’s that now?”

“BEHEHECAHAHAUSE!”

“Because what?”

When Peter didn’t answer, Tony slipped his fingers through Peter’s T-shirt sleeves and started attacking the flesh underneath. Peter fell limp with laughter. He didn’t even have the strength to thrash around.

“STAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEHEASE! NOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE!” Peter begged.

“Did you say you wanted more? Well, since you asked so nicely...” Tony said.

Dipping his head down, Tony blew a huge raspberry on Peter’s belly that had been exposed due to the thrashing. Peter gave a wild buck and let out a new stream of laughter, his face turning a bright red.

“NAHAHAHA! THAT’S NOT FAHAHAHAIR! STAHAHAHAP IT!” Peter said.

“Kid, when it comes to tickling, anything and everything is fair.” Tony said before letting loose another raspberry.

Peter flopped around like a fish out of water. If Tony didn’t stop, he was surely going to pass out. Peter soon realized why Tony was really tickling him. Not only was he cheering him up, but he was also reminding him that even when he feels alone, the Avengers, his family, was there for him, day, and night.

“OKAY, OKAHAHAHAHAHAY! I’LL HEHEHEHEHELP! JUST STAHAHAHAP!” Peter laughed.

“You promise...?” Tony asked, clawing at the armpit flesh.

Peter threw his head back and let out a new stream of laughter that was louder than the last. Now this was the Peter Parker Tony had grown to know and love. Smiling and laughing without a care in the world. Seeing him frowning and crying, it just didn’t sit right with him or any of the other Avengers.

“YEHEHEHEHES! OH, GOHOHOHOD YEHEHEHES! I PROHOHOHOMISE! JUST STAHAHAHAP! I CAHAHAHAN’T TAHAHAHAKE IHIHIT!” Peter cried.

Tony released one more raspberry before stopping completely. Tony hopped off Peter and started down at his smiling and panting protégé. Chuckling, Tony opened the door and looked back at the kid.

“You have five minutes. Otherwise, I’ll come back with Sam, Bucky, and Clint.” Tony warned before leaving the room.

Peter sat up and panted, wiping the sweat from his brow. Looking up, he smiled with a tear in his eye.

“Happy Holidays, Uncle Ben...” he said softly.

Wiping away the tears, Peter freshened up before heading into the common room. When he arrived, he saw Rhodey struggling to get a decoration on the ceiling. Smiling, Peter walked over to help.

“Let me.” Peter said.

Rhodey smiled down at the teen and gave him the decoration. Flipping on the ceiling, Peter was able to hang the decoration and hold it in place with his webbing.

“Thanks, kid.” Rhodey said.

Peter gave War Machine a quick salute before coming down from the ceiling. Walking into the common room, Peter began helping the others, just like he said he would.

“So, what did you tell him to get out?” Bucky asked.

“If he didn’t get his lazy butt out of bed, I would’ve called you, Sam, and Clint for help.” Tony said with a wink.

Bucky looked at the kid who was helping Wanda hanging ornaments on the tree and smiled.

“I’m still willing to help...” Bucky said with a sly grin.

One thing’s for sure, whether you feel like you’re alone, you will always have your family for support. Peter had forgotten that, but thanks to Tony, he remembered that he has this amazing family will never leave him.

✨🎄🎁From my family to yours, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!🎁🎄✨

#avengers fic #tickle fic #ler!tony #lee!peter #request

[spiritclusters]

Fic Review-1

This is going to be an ongoing series where I read, review, and generally fan about SPN fics that I've read. Because it's one of the deepest desires of my soul to discuss fics in detail with people, and fan and generally just be a nerd, like you would with a original story Unfortunally, I really, really want to do this with the authors, but I'm shy and reclusive, and don't feel comfortable doing so. So instead, I'm going to make a giant tumblr post to describe how much I love their work.

So, no crit in these reviews, just love

*If you have a recommendation for a SPN fic (gen, preferably), your own or someone else's that you want me to read and "review", please leave and ask or DM me. (<20k for now).

Today's victim: Karma's Gonna Come Collect Your Debt

Set: S13

Parings: gen

Length: 35k

Main character: Written to be Sam, but I would also argue Dean.

Summary:

Sam is dead. Dean isn’t processing.

And then Sam is not dead, Lucifer is there, and they’re suddenly on a deadline- thirty one hours before their single way home literally ceases to exist. Jack needs to be kept away from Lucifer, Sam needs to be kept away from Lucifer, they need to get thirty three people through a rift miles away, and that’s not even mentioning the fucking war currently being waged all over this- literally -godforsaken planet.

But Sam is alive, (alive, alive, Dean’s brother is alive), albeit having one continuous panic attack. This is fine.

(It is so, so not.)

(EVERYTHING BELOW THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS!)

Reasons You Should Read This:

You know those writers that actually manage to take trauma into account, while pushing forward the story and not allowing this to get buried? this is one of those.

Sam and Lucifer content is just. mm. It's horrible, and it's treated like it's horrible.

Dean's anxiety is actually shown

Dean is traumatized by what happened to Sam by the vampires. his brother's throat gets ripped open, and Dean isn't like "oh, we're okay" after Sam walks up alive again, he spends the entire fic stressed about it

The pacing is lovely, no detail is spared

Lucifer shows up at the camp and no one goes "he's in chains, ergo, he's no longer a problem." He is the Devil, and he is treated as the untrustworthy, snake-like creature he is.

Cas isn't powerless, and he's not stupid.

Mary isn't amazing, but she actually tries to have some form of a bond. Sort of.

LUCIFER TORTURING SAM FOR 180+ YEARS IS NOT IGNORED!

Gabriel isn't useless or just there to please fans, he actually does something

The Cage is talked about.

Jack learns about the Cage

Upon learning about the Cage, Jack decides he doesn't want to talk to Lucifer anymore.

Dean is not ignorant to what Lucifer's presence is doing to Sam, or what it has done to Sam in the past. The fic implies that while Sam probably doesn't talk about it to Dean (Because PTSD and it makes sense), Sam isn't unaffected by what happened to him.

Dean is overly paranoid about anywhere he goes, trying to make sure that it's safe. (Such a small detail, but it always, always pleases me to read it)

Dean and Sam actually have a bond, and it's so very present and so very, very enjoyable.

Sam kills Lucifer

No Michael possession!

Protective!Dean

Sam speaks Enochian, which always gets a win for me.

++My Analysis of the fic:

Writing style and why it works:

The writing is very authentic to how I think Dean's brain works. It's anxiety riddled, fast with worry, and clearly shows the depth of how much hunting has affected him. Dean's brain isn't...smooth is the only word I can think of for this, it's not point A to B like other characters are and that makes sense. The writing focuses deeply on reactions, the way words are spoken, and physical sensations. Especially for Dean, there's little to 0 regard on how he's feeling. Which is something I totally see Dean doing.

But the reason that this frantic, almost skittering writing works is because this is a situation that you'd be thinking like that. Lines cut out because Dean, trauma riddled, doesn't want to think about something. There's jumping and processing and "well, crap" moments. My favorite thing about this author's writing style? they are very much into show not tell, which allows the readers to draw their own conclusions, but also makes it a much more enjoyable experience.

The focus on time, especially given these circumstances, was a beautiful detail to add. It kept a sense of pressure on the writing, because everyone knows that we are on a time limit.

There's also a deep sense of secrecy between Sam, Dean and Cas and the others in the story. They have and share information between the three of them that no one else has, and that makes sense because they have been working together for years.

But because, Sam and Dean especially, they are aware of each other, the characters don't feel like strangers. They know each other, and have been living with each other for a long, long time, and you can clearly see that with how attuned they are to each other. It was beautiful.

Character portrayal:

One of my favorite things about how the characters are portrayed here is that Sam is visibly uncomfortable in Lucifer's presence. Sam was disgusted by Lucifer, and when we're told that because Sam still has residual grace left in him and he can kill Lucifer, Sam is horrified. Sam is allowed to be as trauma riddled as someone who went through that would be. It's beautiful.

I also really appreciate how Dean is allowed to be freaked out about Sam literally getting his throat ripped out. Dean is allowed to not be this perfect fearless older brother. Dean is human here. He's a person with struggles who is concerned about Sam and others, but Dean still feels distinct.

I will also forever appreciate how the characters interact here. Everything is so subtle. If they're soft, it's not blatant, if they hate each other, then it's angry staring, but nothing feels explicit, and I love that.

Small details that make me go "mm.":

Dean always checking the "safety" of a room when they enter.

Mary not knowing about the Cage or John telling Dean to kill Sam

Sam's body language when he's around Lucifer

Upon 1 (one) glance at lucifer, Sam is completely aware that the chains have no effect on Lucifer and tells Dean

(pale face, frantic eyes, mouth open in an agonized scream)

Dean not knowing Maggie's name

Favorite scene and why:

This was hard, but man, the scene where Sam and Dean lay down to get some rest after Sam comes back to camp with Lucifer, and they just...don't sleep. There's something about this scene that just is so...deeply and utterly horrifying. Because Sam and Dean are supposed to be safe, right?

Sam's alive, Dean's alive, they're close to each other, neither of them are injured. They're fine.

And yet.

Yet...they're not. And you can feel that. Dean is tense and not-sleeping, and Sam is tense and not-sleeping. And there's something just so deeply haunting about that scene and I just. My love. <3

Favorite quotes:

“No,” Jack shook his head. “Why do they hate you?”

“It’s in me Dean, oh, god-” (“I’ve got demon blood in me Dean, this disease pumping through my veins-”) Dean shuts his eyes against the unwanted memory that had risen unbidden to the forefront of his mind. He firmly shoves it away.

"And now Sam was somewhere. Probably having a panic attack. Dean needed to find him."

"Sam, I know you will, I know you can, this isn’t me doubting you I swear. But, man, you don’t have to. You shouldn’t have to"

He hadn’t, not since the Cage. Maybe he couldn’t.

Because Dean will make time, damnit, because Sam shouldn’t have to f--ing schedule his panic attacks-

Dean can’t see it, but he knows his brother well enough to read the tightness in his shoulders and shifts in his elbows under the jacket that tell him Sam’s pressing into his palm scar again.

Because Sam never got angry anymore... not since the Cage.

“Heyyyyy Cassie! You’re back! Thank Dad.” Dean turned to see Gabriel trotting up to them, a scowling Lucifer in tow. “Take im’, please, he’s all yours.” He said, motioning to the Devil behind him."

Over all, I think that the story is beautiful. please be sure to leave a kudos and a comment if you read, because this author is dear to my heart and deserves them.

link once more

Author tag or link: @widowronin, Огромное спасибо! :D

#fic rec #spn fic rec #hbo spn #sam and dean #sam and lucifer #sam and trauma #cage trauma #fic reviews

[owlbebackhoothoot]

I'm seeing a lot of people wondering where the rest of the Avengers are during Wanda's multi-channel breakdown. Well, let's see, shall we?

Clint Barton: He comes up a lot as the person who should have recognized something was wrong, but honestly after all the shit HE'S been through someone could nuke Minneapolis with him in Saint Paul and it'd be a 50/50 chance he ducked and covered. After the funeral I'm guessing he went back to the farm with his family, turned his cell phone off, broke it in half, and threw it in a pond. Same with his wife's phone, any phones his kids had including those colorful plastic ones, and the house phone (these are clearly people who still have a landline). The only things he's doing is spending time with his kids and finding time for making more with his wife. You KNOW there going to be another Baby Barton after all this. He probably never knew it went down. He turned his whole life onto Do Not Disturb and any problems the Avengers have are between them and God.

Thor: Maybe the only Avenger who has suffered as much as Wanda, he clearly doesn't have the emotional capacity to help anyone but himself right now, and anyway he took off with the Guardians to find self-care the only way he knows how: torturing Peter Quill because it's hilarious.

Scott Lang: I know we only saw them meet briefly in Berlin, but this is Scott Lang we're talking about. Avengers Super Fan with all the extrovert energy of a golden puppy. You KNOW he asked Wanda for a selfie and an autograph for Cassie (he almost definitely got Steve's autograph for her step-dad, right?). He probably tried to cheer her up in the Raft with stupid jokes, and even though Wanda would never admit it, I bet it fucking worked. If he had known I bet he would have tried to help, but he went back to San Francisco and the only reason Woo didn't call him is because Woo is still trying to find the right time to ask him to dinner.

Peter Parker: HE'S SIXTEEN. No.

Sam Wilson: Thinking about it, Sam probably should have been the one to show up, if anyone was going to. The movies don't really give time to their relationship, but they must have one. They've been working together ever since Age of Ultron, they were both on Steve's side in Civil War, and then they were in hiding together until Infinity War. They HAVE to have at least a working relationship. Except Sam is such a fucking cinnamon roll there's literally no way they weren't besties who definitely got drunk and had their own improvised skeet shooting sessions on the roof of the Avengers compound multiple times. I'm guessing his own plot line with Bucky is the only thing that kept him away.

Stephen Strange: This bitch better have a good fucking reason for not showing up. This is your whole fucking job, bro. If it's happening anywhere on the planet you should know about it, and it's happening one bridge away. I KNOW you New Yorkers 'hate going to Jersey' or whatever but you fucked around the Dark Dimension for an untold amount of time so I think you can handle the fucking Parkway. Loki was in Midtown or where ever for fucking five minutes before you scooped him up but Wanda releases a town-sized hexagon of Chaos Magic in a suburb of Trenton and you're like, I'm sure it will be fine. Well, I hope you're ready, because Wanda is now 'more powerful than the Sorcerer Supreme' which last I checked is YOU so karma is lacing up her walking boots and getting ready to walk all over you.

Carol Danvers: I'm including Carol not because she should have shown up for Wanda, but for Monica. The fact that she hasn't, paired with That Look she made when Captain Marvel got brought up? Parents, send the vegetarians and vegans to bed early, because there's about to be some fucking beef.

#wandavision #wanda maximoff #hawkeye #ant man #spider man #thor #falcon #dr. strange #captain marvel #new jersey

[rotationalsymmetry]

Whale Morphs Part 6: I may be a little bit ax-cited.

(time to dolphin morph, cassie has second thoughts, marco starts morphing rather than arguing with her.) Marco is the bravest person on the team.

Well, we have a water temperature, but it’s miles off shore so that doesn’t mean much. The ship is going to Singapore. Would Tobias have mentioned if it was going through the Panama Canal first? Eh, I’m going to go off of the assumption that they’re on the West Coast.

“There is just about nothing as helpless as a human being in the ocean.”

(about jumping off a container ship and morphing in the deep ocean) “Well, that was fun,” Marco said sardonically. ��Let’s never, ever do it again.”

Are they ever going to whale morph? Like a big whale, like a humpback? That would be cool.

Grass. Grass. On a space ship. Yes.

don’t fricking break the airlock without knowing what you’re doing

oh my fucking god

Hmm. I think our lost Andalite is going to be very confused. They’re morphing, if he saw that. But they’re not Andalites. And Andalites don’t just give away morphing technology.

They really should have acquired a salt water fish morph before they set out. Or something else that doesn’t have a dolphin’s “how long you can stay underwater” limitations.

Humans don’t have nasty scorpion tails or impressive claws or teeth and we’re not that big and we don’t have swords strapped to our arms. But appearances can be deceiving. I wonder why Andalites have scorpion tails. Why any intelligent species capable of constructing weapons would evolutionarily speaking “decide” to have built-in weapons as well. Ah well.

“No one could kill Elfangor. He is the greatest warrior ever. No one could kill him!” He is so young. And so scared. And trying so hard not to show it.

 Oh, he’s embarrassed that they didn’t let him fight.
 Why a non-combatant was going into a war zone in the first place is a bit unclear. But let’s roll with it.

I wonder what Andalites do to each other for comfort. Do they touch each other? Wrap each other in blankets? Provide warm beverages? Offer emotional warmth telepathically?

Whatever it is I very much want Ax to have that right now. He’s alone and he’s been alone for weeks and his brother is dead and everyone is dead.

I guess deciding who your new prince is going to be is like comfort.

This book is about what happens when no one wants to be in charge, but someone has to be.

Oh thank goodness the Andalites have words for aesthetic things. We are differentiating the Good Guys from the Bad Guys here. The bad guys don’t seem to have any culture apart from domination and survival and hierarchy. (Although they might have some kinds of relationships. Spawnmates. We don’t know much about the Yeerks.) The good guys…they would still know who they are, and would indeed have better lives, without the war.

(Maybe. The "warrior" thing also seems to be a big part of Andalite culture though, and as of yet it's unclear how that manifests when they're not at war.)

“We take our home with us into space. It angers the Yeerks” sounds like propaganda, like “they hate freedom.” But who knows, it could be true. The Yeerks, what we’ve seen of them so far, are remarkably awful.

“Once a planet is under their control, they alter it to suit their own desires. They will leave enough plant and animal species to keep their host bodies fed … and the rest they eliminate.” Sound like anyone we know? Yeah, I think Applegate is way more of an ecology nerd than she’s usually letting on.

“That can’t be. You’re just saying that because you don’t like Yeerks.” I guess that’s in the same ballpark as moral condemnation? Moral condemnation through negative space.

“Yeerks are killers of worlds. Murderers of all life.”

“Five kids against an enemy that has destroyed half the galaxy?” “Six, my Prince.”

Ax isn’t going to mention that he only sees four?

I bet Ax acquired a shark. this is going to be hilarious.

Yup.

“Taxxons?” I think maybe y’all should have mentioned the Taxxons first.

I wonder if Ax is weirded out by how short the human names are. I wonder if he’s going to have a moment when he’s introduced to the concept of middle and last names and realizes that it’s not that the kids don’t have full names, they just didn’t introduce themselves with full names.

Ax might not be a kid. Maybe Andalites don’t let young adults fight. You have to be the equivalent of 25 or something. Maybe you’re expected to have your first child before you fight.

Eh. He’s probably a kid.

It is, as Marco would say, insane that 18 year olds are considered old enough to join the military.

Maybe it wouldn’t be insane if we treated 16 and 17 year olds like the nearly-adults they are.

I guess as long as I’m objecting to “lame” I might as well be consistent. It is ludicrous that 18 year olds are considered old enough to join the military, while 17 year olds aren’t considered old enough to drop out of high school.

#animorphs read-through #whale morphs #animorphs book 4

[diazevan]

3. My Way Or The Highway “Held At Gunpoint”

Peter, is held at gunpoint, by a grieving mother, Tony has to talk her down.

AO3 Link

Peter loved travelling to the new and approved, post-Thanos Headquarters, with Tony.

He loved watching Tony interact with the staff and interns, especially if they’d never spoken to him, properly before.

The way their faces would light up, their shoulders would relax, and they’d smile, because Tony, was one of the easiest people to have a conversation with.

People never expected that.

They built an image of him, even Peter was guilty of that when they first met.

From how the media portrayed him, Tony was a ‘no shit elitist billionaire,’ with no time for ‘common folk,’ who spent his days, surrounded by his creations. In reality, he was one of the kindest people, Peter had ever met and had the fortune, to love.

Tony cared for his personnel, even before handing the company over to Pepper, and as second-in-command, he still did. They paid triple, sometimes even quadruple of what was expected for every role, from the janitors to the infirmary staff. They took care of their sick staff, retired staff, and gave new parents, three years off, if they wanted it.

Tony understood that he had too much money, for one person, that he’d never truly need. Some of it was built up, from illegal activity, thanks to Stane. That was something he desperately wanted to fix.

Nobody cared more than Tony Stark, he proved that when he laid down his life, for the universe, but the media still labelled him as a ‘war profiteer,’ despite him leaving that part of his father’s legacy behind.

“So…” Tony nudged Peter’s arm with his shoulder as they walked through the main lobby, “You’re training with Rhodey today, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he got planned?”

“Not sure.” He shrugged, “Probably something exhausting.”

“Ha.” Tony cackled, “He only does it because he cares.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “I guess.

A staff member walked past, she smiled, “Good morning, Peter!”

He awkwardly waved, “Hey.”

Tony reached over, pinching his cheek, “You’re a total fan favourite here, kiddo.”

Peter narrowed his eyes, “Only because you won’t stop talking about me.”

“I can talk about whomever I choose.”

“Mr. Stark!” An intern, only a few years older than Peter, charged over, with his hand raised, “Do you have a moment?”

“Of course.” Tony grinned, “Henry, right?”

Henry’s eyes widened, “Yeah, that’s right.”

Tony stepped aside, with him, “What’s up?”

“I’ve got a question about, the aircraft my team are working on—”

Peter lingered, looking around.

The staff greeted him, with smiles and waves, even those he’d never met or seen around.

Cassie skipped by, with a box in her arms, “Oh, hey Peter!”

“Hey, Cass.” He looked at the box of random stuff in her arms, "You seem busy." 

"We're working on my suit!" She exclaimed, "You need to pop by Hope’s office later." 

“That’s so cool.” He said excitedly, “Yeah, I’ll come up after training.”

"Ah." She grinned, "I can't wait to train with you."

"It will be amazing," He smiled, "Have you got a name yet?"

"Dad was thinking Peanut," She rolled her eyes, "But Mum and Hope said Stature, that's my favourite." 

"Stature's amazing."

"Thanks." She backed up, towards the elevator, "See you soon."

“See you.”

Peter bounced, back and forth, on his heels. He wondered if he should head up, Tony would find him.

He turned to make a move but mindlessly halted.

The hairs on his arm, and the back of his neck, stood on edge.

He reached out, for Tony’s arm, but before he could, something cold was pressed against his temple.

He looked aside, to make sure Cassie had got into the elevator, she was gone, that was good, at least she was safe. 

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, and stood, dangerously still. He didn’t have to wonder, he knew exactly what this was.

A spindly arm folded around his chest, holding him back.

People around scattered, with screams and shrieks, some ducked behind a desk.

“What—” Tony turned, and his jaw-dropping open; his cheeks drained of all colour, “Oh—”

He doesn’t have anything with him, to stop this.

Peter stood strong, taking slow and even breaths. He locked his eyes onto Tony. Peter knew he could disarm whoever was holding him, but the gun was pushed against his head, if they were trigger happy, it could still hit him, or worse, somebody around him.

“Okay.” Tony relaxed his arms beside him, “Pete, keep your eyes on me.”

He did.

Tony looked aside, shaking his head; Peter guessed he was directing his security staff to stand down.

“Hannah?” Tony’s voice was gentle, “It’s Hannah, isn’t it? Biotech division?” He held up his hands, in front of him, “I’ve heard that you’re quite clever. You’ve proven that, by being able to sneak that gun in. How’d you manage that?”

“I—” She didn’t sound confident, with her action, but she pushed through, “It doesn’t matter.”

Peter could see Tony’s panic, and how he was mentally planning ways to secure the building more than he already had.

She stammered, “You know my name?”

“I know everybody’s names.” Tony told her, “I’m good with faces.”

“I thought you didn’t care.”

“Who me?” Tony rested a hand on his chest, “Oh, I do, sometimes too much.”

She snapped, “You just throw money into everything.”

“Maybe, but I guess that’s my conscience, and I do like helping people.” He assured her, “And I wanna help you.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” Tony spoke softly, although his hands were shaking, “I do care, about you, and the kid—”

“You’re lying.” She spat, “You don’t care about anyone!”

“I know what happened to you.” He said cautiously, “Your son, Simon—he was—”

She shrieked, “Don’t say his name!”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tony nodded, “But if you let Peter go, then I can help you.”

“It’s your fault!” She yelled, “I lost my Simon, in the blip, and it was the worst five years of my life!”

Peter frowned, trying to catch up.

He knew it wasn’t easy, for people who lost those they loved and then got them back, after five years without them.

According to Tony, the grief never went away. Peter would catch him staring like he was looking right through him as if he was nothing more than an apparition.

“Then you and your blasted team brought him back again!” She screamed, “I got my second chance, and he was taken from me again, by fucking drunk driver!”

Peter flinched, closing his eyes. She’d lost her son, within the first year, of having him back. He couldn’t imagine.

He hated to admit it but, if he were to die, it would destroy Tony. That was one of the reasons, he was more committed to being a Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man, instead of an Avenger.

Hannah bellowed, “You shouldn’t have meddled, I lost my boy twice!”

Tony’s face contorted, “I can’t imagine.” He gestured, to Peter, “But—but, do you know he is?”

“No.”

“He’s my kid.”

“That’s a lie—” She cried, “You don’t have a son.”

“Peter came into my life, much later on,” He explained, “But—he is my kid, and he means the world to me, I can’t lose him, Hannah.” His voice trembled slightly, “He was a victim of Thanos as well, do you understand?”

The arm locked around Peter’s front trembled.

“I don’t think you want to hurt anybody, not really.” Tony took a small step forward, “You want people to see you and understand what you’re going through, yeah?”

Hannah mumbled inaudibly.

“I promise, that if you let my kid go, nothing bad is going to happen to you.” He vowed, “I’m gonna do all I can, to help you get the support that you need.”

Hannah choked out a sob, her hold around Peter wavered, and she dropped the gun, to the floor.

“Stay!” Tony ordered, halting the security who were ready to swarm her, “Peter—” He held out his arm, grabbing his wrist and pulling him over, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

Tony bent down, brushing a hand through Peter’s curls and pressing a kiss against his forehead.

Tony looked to the intern, “Watch him please.”

Henry nodded, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

Tony moved over, kicking Hannah’s gun aside.

The elevator doors opened, Scott, Hope, and Cassie emerged, frightened looks written across their faces. Scott and Hope, stood in front, suited up, but their shoulders relaxed, when their eyes locked onto Tony.

Cassie pushed through them, "Peter!" She crashed into him, pulling him into a hug, "Oh, my-" 

He folded his arms around her, "Hey."

"Are you okay?" She leaned back, "Friday told us what was happening, and we--" 

She offered her a smile, "I'm fine." 

Cassie turned, to look, at Hannah and Tony, she kept a hand rested against Peter's arm. 

Hannah looked over at them, but cast her eyes away, looking at the ground, "I'm sorry, " She blubbered, bringing a hand to her mouth, “I’m sorry, I’d never would—I want—I just—”

He placed a hand, on her shoulder, “I understand.”

Peter’s mouth twitched, into a smile, because at the end of the day, nobody cared more than Tony Stark.

#whumptober2020 #no.3 #my way or the highway #held at gunpoint #marvel #irondad fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #cassie lang #irondad #marvel fanfiction

[scarlet--wiccan]

You can ignore this if you don’t have any thoughts but what your ideal new young avengers run look like? Who would be on the team, what would you even call it now that they’re all adults (except Cassie I guess?)

One of my favorite things about Young Avengers, which I think is often underplayed to the detriment of the characters, is that the team is routinely forced to operate outside of the law and against the wishes of their elders. In the core YA books, the kids are more often working in opposition to the Avengers rather than in cooperation. These are characters whose methods and motives are not usually aligned with those of the established superhero organizations, which is also reflected in many of their appearances beyond YA-- Strikeforce and Empyre are great examples, as are Cassie's adventures in Astonishing Ant-Man. This rebel element is often at odds with the fact that many of the characters admire the Avengers, or have close personal relationships with individual Avengers members. The dissonance becomes especially strong when Billy and Teddy, who have the most reason to distrust and resent them following Children's Crusade, are consistently characterized as Avengers fanboys.

That's not to say that I think the Young Avengers should, like, hate the old Avengers, but I do think that this tension is a key part of the series. The 2005 run was about a group of kids who stepped up, at a very young age, to do a job that wasn't getting done because the previous generation had failed, only to get shot down by the people who had failed them in the first place. It's about a group of kids grappling with complex and painful family histories, and, in many ways, they're foils to the Runaways, which is why I don't really like it when they play junior Avengers or emulate the traditional superhero team structure-- WCA was really fun, but I'm not going to pitch a second volume, you know? I much prefer them operating as an ad hoc group, mainly because they each come from different backgrounds, have different goals, and work in different fields. They're not people who work together because they're part of an organization, they're people who show up for each other because they're friends and they care about one another. That is, in my mind, a more effective approach to a team book with such disparate characters than what the typical Avengers title tries to do.

So, anyways, that's what I think makes Young Avengers special and it's why I think the book still has a place in the Marvel world. Pitching actual story ideas is hard now because Teddy and Billy are, apparently, living off-world and very busy being royalty. In my previous post, I outlined an older idea for a BillyTeddy ongoing series that could have easily functioned as a third volume of Young Avengers, but would require some editing to work in a post-Empyre world. The idea was for Billy and Teddy's apartment in New York to act as a base of operations for a revolving cast of their friends, who come and go over the course of various story arcs. The two of them are presumably living full-time in space now, but it's also been established that they're magically anchored to each other in a way that makes it easy for Billy to warp between New York and the throneship-- anywhere Teddy goes, Billy can instantly follow, and vice-versa, which means that the series could still use Earth as a main setting without pulling the royal couple out of their other storyline.

I'd love a Young Avengers/Runaways crossover set in space-- their previous crossovers mostly have to do with alien drama, after all, and I've been itching to get Xavin back on page. I'm very serious when I say that I want Xavin, Teddy and Noh to be best friends, and I think they'd be fun leads for a miniseries, or even the opening arc of a limited run that eventually folds in the other YA and Runaways characters. I'm imagining an extended version of the interstellar road trip from YA (2013). Maybe Teddy will recruit his two closest alien friends to go on a sensitive diplomatic mission where he can only bring a small party, but it turns out to be some kind of trap and they end up stranded somewhere and have to, like fight their way out of hostile territory and make their way back to the Alliance with no ship. Billy can reach Teddy, obviously, but he can't just warp the whole party home because the distance is too great or they're in an alternate dimension or something, so he rounds up a rescue party and Karolina insists on coming along because, I don't know, the Light Brigade is mixed up in this and she feels like it's her responsibility to help Xavin even though they haven't seen each other in years. Nico obviously comes along with her, and can help Billy with tracking spells.

I'd also like to see a YA book led by the series' most under-served characters-- Tommy, Eli, and Cassie. Building off of Cassie's capers in Ant-Man, I'd be very into a heist or espionage story about the three of them, probably joined by Kate because she'd add a lot of cohesion to the cast and is so well suited to this type of adventure. Maybe they're undercover, and they have to, like, fake-fight some of the other Young Avengers, but they all join forces once the misunderstanding is cleared up. I'm picturing a cold open where the whole first issue is made up of, like, security camera footage of three masked figures breaking into a high-tech vault at AIM or Roxxon, and they steal a bunch of weaponry and fight their way out through a bunch of goons, but then it's revealed that the whole thing was a distraction to cover up a fourth intruder who moves too fast for the cameras to track. At the end of the issue, it's revealed to the reader that the intruders are the Young Avengers, and the real prize was a computer holding the last backup of Jonas's AI. The rest of the first arc is about them trying to rebuild Jonas with help from Vee, but they have to keep it a secret from the Avengers because they're planning an even bigger heist against, like Kate's dad, and they need to keep the whole operation under wraps because he's got eyes and ears all over.

I'm not particularly eager for another fantasy story after CC and YA(2013), but I'd be into a cosmic-fantasy arc about America solving some sort of inter-dimensional crisis or chasing a villain across worlds with Tommy and Billy's help. I really want more development between America and Billy, but I also think that she'd be really funny friends with Tommy and I want to see more of him playing off of magic characters. Maybe Leah (the one from Earth-15513 that's living on Earth-616 now) receives a mysterious message from Loki and asks the Young Avengers to help her track them down. America and Billy volunteer and Tommy tags along. Along the way they end up discovering some sort of evil curse or spell and go on a quest through various dimensions in order to break it. In the end it turns out the whole thing was set up by Loki to manipulate them into defeating an evil alternate-universe Loki-- maybe the one from Leah's native dimension-- because Evil Loki had used an enchantment that made it impossible for 616-Loki to harm them, which includes allies who are knowingly fighting on Loki's behalf. Better yet, it's a proxy war, and Evil Loki has recruited pawns of their own-- including Sylvie and Lisa from the Young Masters! 616-Loki does come clean when the dust is settled and finally reconnects with the Young Avengers. Loki is glad that Leah found a way to escape her destiny, but they admit that they don't feel they've succeeded in breaking out of their own cycle, to which America and Billy are like "we've seen how far you've come, but you need to remember that people care about you and stop bailing on us when we actually want to talk it out with you," which Tommy backs up because, like, he's been that person. Friendship! Character arcs that don’t fizzle out when a book wraps in under twenty issue!

Anyways, if we got a third Young Avengers volume, I'd prefer a limited run with a cohesive story, but all of the ideas I just outlined would probably work better as smaller arcs in an ongoing series. I have a lot of ideas about tying up loose threads and continuing arcs that are already in motion, but I'm hesitant to plot out what the next big step in these characters' lives should be. I definitely think it's time to give Tommy and Cassie another shot at the spotlight, and I want Eli to come back with a new costume and codename.

At this phase, it's just really hard for me to land on any larger, deeper stories because I'm so unsure of what the next few years will look like for Billy and Teddy. There's also an America title that's been in production limbo since the pandemic started, and I feel like there's some kind of drama on the horizon between the Maximoffs and Krakoa which would theoretically impact the twins as well. I also anticipate editorial pushing for Kate in a Hawkeye book when the tv show comes out.

#young avengers #robintext #runaways

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 12

Foolish Heroes of Barley

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Last time, the party had returned to Barley to deal with a few loose ends. They've been staying in town for a while, waiting for their hired Deathseekers to deal with the dragon in the tower. This session, their stay comes to an end, and as you can see from the image here, they don't get into any trouble whatsoever.

A few other things happen before their fateful final night in town:

Kevin Softbreeze, the herbalist from the Deathseekers, visits town and sells Looseleaf some magic flowers that repel demons- though they're not very potent, and she'll need to stop by his garden in Cauterdale if she wants some seeds to try growing. Saelhen buys some potent knockout drops.

The villagers appear to still be arming themselves and preparing for battle with Wheat- since they didn't mention Arnie as the culprit at all, and tried to pin it on the dragon directly, Malath is still skeptical that they're totally safe from invasion, and defensive preparations continue.

Rumors spread that Chitch has gone missing, but no one can find the body. The party spreads rumors of their own- true ones- that Chitch went to go find his daughter after learning that the pain-wizard is dead.

On their fifth night in the village- somewhat earlier than expected- they notice something outside the window of their rooms in the inn. Lumiere's tower, previously unnoticeable, is suddenly aglow with some sort of yellow cylindrical magic barrier, made up of hexagonal panels.

Looseleaf rouses the rest of the party- the plan is to watch from a distance, and not interfere. A very loud roar is heard in the distance, which is suddenly cut off in the middle- it seems the Deathseekers have sprung their trap.

It's not too much longer after that when they begin to hear screams from around them in the village.

Saelhen's elf eyes spot... something rustling in the fields around the village. All of them. Quite a lot of somethings. Except despite the rustling, she can't make out anything but barley stalks. And the nothing- the hordes of nothing- is moving towards the tower.

The party leaps into action, heading downstairs with weapons drawn. On the ground floor, they see... something sort of familiar. Those Greed Echoes, the mud-and-grass monsters they fought on the road- one of them is forming itself out of broken bottles, dust, and wooden planks uprooted from the floor of the Harvester Inn. Cassie, the innkeeper, is watching in terror, knuckles white gripping a frying pan.

Congratulations! You're both right! The dragon is summoning an army of hateful Justice Echoes powered by the roused hatred of Wheat that's been stirred up in town!

Oyobi thinks fast, and oneshots the echo in the kitchen with an arrow, shattering a bottle that'd become its core. The screams outside continue, though, and the party exits the inn to find panicked villagers fleeing their homes. Justice Echoes made primarily from twisted stalks of barley have formed in their fields and homes, taking the weapons amassed for self-defense from their owners. They attack only those who resist, and make their way towards the tower.

Looseleaf: Let's just attack some hate-plague spirits and see if they decide to attack us instead. If they don't attack us at all, then we can just ignore them and run leisurely next to them and pick them off as we go. If they attack us, then it's a regular fight. "We're up to do some heroism this fine night, right, team?" Oyobi Yamatake: "Obviously!" Orluthe Chokorov: "Uh, I don't have that one prepared, do I? Uh..." Vayen: Saelhen du Fishercrown: "I am up to rub Mother K's face in the super obvious consequences of her actions while incidentally preventing pointless suffering." "Go team! Woo!"

Looseleaf starts us off by rending the spirit of the closest barley-monster, using her new Painspike ability to make the target Frightened of her.

However... these monsters have no purpose except to attack that which they fear, so rather than the normal effect of being Frightened, Looseleaf has now drawn aggro from this monster. Which is kind of what she wanted! So, that's a win! She now has a way to goad the enemy!

The party takes some swings at the monsters, knocking a couple out, but most of them seem to just be ignoring them, continuing to run through the fields towards the tower. They could become a problem for the Deathseekers if they're not dealt with- or for Wheat, for that matter.

Backup arrives in the form of Malath Kanthalga, who perceives these events as- what else?- an attack by Wheat. She's screaming, demanding to know who's responsible, and smashing echoes apart with her mace. Still, the echoes are mostly ignoring the village- they're grabbing anything they can find to use as a weapon, sort of ransacking the place, but most of them are just fleeing.

So Saelhen comes up with an extremely well-timed plan. It's a really good plan, I love it, and I'm excited to hit them with the consequences of her plan- until Looseleaf issues a timely bit of advice:

Saelhen du Fishercrown: Saelhen dashes (Cunning Action), steps forward, inhales a great gulp of breath... "FOOLISH HEROES OF BARLEY!" she bellows. "WHILE YOU FUTILELY WASTE YOURSELVES AGAINST WHEAT'S DEFENSES, I, THE SECRET SHADOW MAYOR OF WHEAT, WILL BE HERE BURNING YOUR HOMES!" "AND ALSO MENACING YOUR CITIZENS WITH MY PERMISSIVE IDEOLOGY!" She waves her hooded lantern, unlit, above her head, to drive the point home. "WHO AMONG YOU CAN STOP ME AND DELIVER JUSTICE? NO ONE, PROBABLY, I ASSUME!"

Vayen, in a surprising show of, let's call it camaraderie, is very much in support of this plan for some reason! He takes a break from his busy schedule of doing absolutely nothing every turn in combat to cast a helpful illusion, to ensure as many monsters aggro Saelhen as possible!

A few more rounds of combat ensue, with a good chunk of the monsters- including a few very large building-sized hulks- immediately turning to kill Saelhen. The party gets some good hits in, and Saelhen gets a little roughed up. She... would like maybe fewer things to be attacking her, actually.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Their attention is on me, Mother Kanthalga, the secret mayor of Wheat this entire time, but you might be able to calm their anger! These creatures were born from this town's... collective mind, or something, they may listen to you if you order them to stand down!" Benedict I. (GM): Not with advantage, but a 22... "Wh... what? What are you saying? That's..." She hesitates, then speaks, in a booming voice she- well, you spent a few days here, you know she reserves it for sermons. "STAND DOWN! The time to strike against our foe has not yet come!" "We must be prudent! We must defend ourselves, not attack!" [DEFEND OURSELVES,] the echoes agree, continuing to bear down on Saelhen. Saelhen du Fishercrown: Worth a shot!

It doesn't seem like these things are hugely receptive to emotional appeals or logical argument- they have the one emotion, which they're made of, and they don't super do other ones.

In the following combat rounds, Saelhen... takes a few more hits, which she is not designed to do on account of being a rogue.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: WHY DID I NOT DECLARE ORLUTHE THE SECRET SHADOW MAYOR

More echoes emerge from the fields and attack, and Saelhen is starting to look really rough- and Vayen just keeps the illusion on her, not actually helping in any way. Until... one of them goes for Looseleaf, instead. When it starts looking like she might be in danger, he fires off a bolt of blue electricity, which begins to singe one of the monsters attacking her for damage every turn. He's... a higher-level spellcaster than anyone else in the party, apparently!

Looseleaf, with a little room to maneuver, unfolds her wings and takes to the air- up and out of reach of the smaller monsters, drawing their aggro and forcing them to waste turns. Meanwhile, Orluthe and Oyobi, backed up by Malath and a couple of villagers who've reclaimed their weapons, cut down a few more echoes as more surge forth from the fields to replace them.

Saelhen... keeps trying to persuade Malath to persuade the echoes to stop. She does very well at persuading Malath to try that! Malath tries that, wholeheartedly, once again to no effect! Eventually, Malath stops trying.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Would you consider coming to them as a trusted comrade, who trained them to protect them, rather than the one leading them off to war? Maybe?" Malath Kanthalga: "I am going to come to them as a very angry warrior with a mace," she growls. Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Okay! Okay, fair enough. Spiritual remedies off the table, understood."

Orluthe is getting really tired, and keeps whiffing his swings- it's touch-and-go for a while. But Saelhen and Looseleaf's frantic attempts to kite enemies out of range have been paying off, and they manage to down the remaining super-hulks juuuuust before anyone dies.

Benedict I. (GM): Y'know, it's possible that making the two squishiest members of the party draw aggro was not the number one best strategic move Saelhen du Fishercrown: IT MAYBE WASN'T, NO Looseleaf: eh, it's worked out so far!

The combat wraps up, and we transition to a bunch of Athletics rolls to chase down and terminate as many of the smaller echoes as possible. They build a firepit in the center of town, to dispose of defeated echoes in- just in case that's necessary, because who knows what kind of magic is animating these guys.

So after a wild night of chasing, taunting, fleeing, and burning justice echoes- well, it's not so much a wild night as a wild twenty minutes or so- there's a point at which the fields just suddenly fall silent. A pair of echoes chasing Saelhen fall to the ground, inert.

With a good roll...

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...of course, you're free to dismiss this as the ramblings of a crazed outsider. But keep in mind, Mother Kanthalga, that the ones who fell upon your town, tore it apart in a frenzy of violence, and stabbed you repeatedly for your pains, endangering your people, your daughter and your livelihoods, were repeating the words you taught them." Benedict I. (GM): Malath winces. "That... I don't know why they..." Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...think on it. You're reasonable people, around here. You can come to your own conclusions." Benedict I. (GM): "I tell you, I did not make these things! If not for..." She's kind of lost for words. "...Apologies. I have much work to do," she says, and leaves.

After some work mending the village and cleaning up the aftermath, Looseleaf heads back into the inn to check on Vayen, who hasn't been helping at all and is instead drunk at the bar. He asks "Did she make it?"- and Looseleaf gets a nat 20 on Insight.

She's pretty sure that he was talking about Saelhen- and that he sounded almost hopeful. He was unusually jazzed about a plan that involved her being attacked by a horde of angry monsters- and he chose to shoot the echo that was attacking her, not the one bearing down on Saelhen with a bunch of its friends. When she informs him Saelhen survived, she's able to tell he's disappointed.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: so he doesn't hate us, as a group he hates saelhen specifically Looseleaf: But also weirdly- okay, what if: what if he actually has an ancestral quest involving that bracer and he's mad that saelhen beat him to the punch and furthermore used it as a shitty cover story Saelhen du Fishercrown: saelhen going THE DE LA SURPLUS ANCESTRAL QUEST IS REAL???

Looseleaf switches to talking to Vayen via her spirit-magic imitation of the Message spell.

Looseleaf: (Like, Vayen, everything you're doing is about Saelhen in some way or other. And I can't figure out why. You seem pretty much ambivalent towards all of us except for her. I don't get it. If you want Saelhen dead, why haven't you just killed her? I saw that lightning bolt- if you wanted, I bet you could take all of us, in a straight fight.) (You're sending real mixed signals. If you want her dead, why isn't she dead? Why do you want her to be dead via a hand other than your own?) Vayen: He locks up. And then sighs. Looseleaf: (And now you're sitting here sounding all tired and sad and I feel bad about that.) (I dunno, do you want to, uh, talk about it, with someone.) Vayen: "I don't... want her... to be dead," he says, clearly choosing his words carefully. "I have nothing against her." Looseleaf: (Then it's the- bracer??) Vayen: I'm letting that one Insight roll do a lot of work here, but he definitely reacts to that. "I- um, no," he says, lying. Looseleaf: (There is literally nothing significant about Saelhen other than her bracer, unless you plan on telling me that your deepest desire is to defeat the dance emperor of Kanzentokai in a danceoff and reclaim your ancestral throne of dancing glory.) (Which, granted, if that's the case, that'd be amazing.) Vayen: "I don't know what you're- that's not..." "It's all coincidence. Whatever you're thinking. I don't have- I don't have anything against- Saelhen? Noeru?" Looseleaf: (Look, I- okay, here's how I see things. I don't know how the bracer works, it's weird magic stuff, but the way I see it, there's two major ways the bracer could work.) (That is, you either want the bracer for yourself, because whatever it does or whatever you need it for, you need to be the one wearing it- OR, you just need anybody willing to use the bracer to do whatever it is the bracer's supposed to do.) Vayen: "...Can you not?" "I- I have a job." "I have an important job." "It's from the School of Restricted Arts." Looseleaf: "Well, tell us about the dang important job then! Maybe we can help you with it." "I don't get why you're preassuming that we'd never do anything you might want us to do." Vayen: "It's from the School of- are you listening?" "It's secret." "Look, it's- you don't need to worry about it, okay?" Looseleaf: "Hhhhhrlgkrkshxzshktkrrrzzzzktttttkzzz," Looseleaf says, reverting to her natural dialect in a brief moment of frustration. Vayen: "Sure, it's easier if- I mean, she- that was her idea, she wanted to..." "I just- I can just..." "As long as I can keep an eye on..." He groans. "I shouldn't be talking to you." "You're not in the School." Looseleaf: "Okay, just- hhhjkkkkkrkxxxxxtk." Vayen:"Are... you okay?" He's never asked a question like that before. Looseleaf: (I'm fine, that's just how we express frustration, our throats don't naturally conform to making sounds like 'hrrrrrgh', whenever I do that it's a performative thing that I do to adhere to human expectations- look, the big reason why I'm trying to, pound my way through your portcullis of secrecy with a twenty-foot battering ram of blunt communication,) (is because right now Saelhen is like, probably 80% convinced you're trying to poison her in your sleep.) (Seriously, this amount of in-party distrust is, like, way too Ccorde-damned much.) Vayen: "I wouldn't do that," he says. "If I were going to do that, I'd have done it already. Looseleaf: (If you'd express, in a credible way, that you're actually just trying to get Saelhen to do whatever it is she'd do anyways, she'd feel a lot better about it!) (And then she might even work with you to further your goals directly!) Vayen: He doesn't say anything for a little while. "...This is stupid." "This isn't even- it's wrong, even." "Maybe that's why." Man, that bottle he's holding is emptier than you thought it'd be. He's only been here less than half an hour. "Don't try to- guh, friends. He'll never- stupid. What's the point." He sort of collapses on the bar.

Vayen, it seems, can't hold his liquor. Looseleaf... carries him back up to his room.

Next time: the party finally leaves Barley, for good this time! And also a minor medical emergency happens, and also they kidnap a twelve-year-old, but like, it's fine. It'll be fine. Don't worry about it.

#twofaced jewel #tfj log

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

out of the animorphs who do you think has the best self-esteem and the worst self-esteem throughout the series? my friend and i have been debating/talking about this for the last half hour lol

Hope you don’t mind, I’mma do that thing where I psychobabble a complex answer to a simple question.  So let’s talk about some facets of self-esteem.

First of all, there’s self-efficacy.  That’s basically your estimate of your own skills and abilities, including how well you think you can accomplish important tasks and/or rise to meet future challenges.

Then there’s self-discrepancy.  That’s the amount of disconnect you perceive between your “actual self,” your “ought self,” and your “Ideal self.”  Less self-discrepancy means more self-satisfaction.

Then there’s resilience.  I oversimplify, but it’s how much your self-concept and self-regard can survive traumas, life changes, and stressors.  The higher your resilience, the better you cope.  The more your self-concept is tied to just one thing (e.g. being a ballerina) the worse you’ll cope with stressors.

Clearest example of where these vary independently of each other: Tobias.

Tobias has pretty dang good self-efficacy throughout the series.  He knows that he’s got a skill set (flight expertise and battle direction) that he can use effectively to keep his friends alive.  There are occasional self-deprecating jokes about him brushing up on barrel rolls (#51) but overall he knows that he’s not only the best flier on the team, but the best arial director.  He feels comfortable bossing the others around any time they’re in an arial battle (#24) or attempting a tricky flying maneuver (#17) because he knows he’s that good.

Tobias’s self-discrepancy is... less good.  He doesn’t value himself, and he doesn’t understand why others value him.  It’s hard for Tobias to conceive of himself as worthy of love and support, to the point where he’d rather risk starving to death than inconveniencing others (#23).  Tobias spends the series struggling to define his own ideal self and actual self, and he never really gets away from the ought selves that others push on him.  He ought to be comfortable as a human, according to Rachel and Marco (#13).  He ought to be a better andalite, according to Taylor (#33).  He ought to be a hawk and just a hawk, according to his own worldview (#3, #33).  His self-discrepancy fluctuates throughout the series.  He’s most self-satisfied when he’s rejecting a version of himself he doesn’t want (as when talking to Taylor) but least so when he realizes he wants multiple incompatible things from himself.

That said, I would describe Tobias as low on resilience early on, but capable of learning how to cope so that he’s pretty high by the end.  As of #1, he’s never been loved by anyone before, so he doesn’t really have any basis for positive self-regard.  Rachel and Ax come along to change that fact, and both of them love and support Tobias’s weird multi-layered identity.  In the process, Rachel and Ax help Tobias cope with everything from eating roadkill (#13) to being traumatized by Taylor (#33).  By #49, Tobias himself recognizes that he’s doing fairly well compared to everyone else on the team.  He’s been through hell just like the rest of them, but he’s capable of coping with that hell in a way that Jake especially is not.  I’ve already mentioned I think it’s a disservice that we don’t see Ax and Tobias relying on each other more in #54, because I think that Tobias could’ve overcome Rachel’s loss and had a good life postwar if so.

Most of the others are less complicated than Tobias.  Jake starts out low on self-efficacy as a leader, but gradually grows in confidence, not in the least because he’s always pretty high on self-satisfaction.  Jake’s low in coping resources because he’s had to spend less time actively forging his own identity than Tobias, and as a result Jake has very low resilience throughout the series.

Cassie’s got pretty decent self-efficacy, not in the least because she (like Tobias) has a very specific and concrete skill set that she can use to help her friends, in this case morphing.  Like Jake, she’s low in resilience at first, but unlike Jake she gets better at coping over time.  Partially that’s because her self-discrepancy is quite low.  She knows who she actually is, she knows who she ideally would be, and she knows who she ought to be.  And overall, Cassie does the least badly at keeping those three somewhat in line with each other.

Poor Ax has atrocious self-efficacy.  He doesn’t recognize his own effectiveness most of the time, even when confronted with clear demonstrations of his soft skills like adaptability (#18, #45) or hard skills like piloting and engineering (#8, #11, #36).  Ax can tell you all about his failures, but he almost never recognizes his successes.  That said, Ax’s self-discrepancy gets pretty low by the end of the series, because he becomes comfortable with who he is in spite of who he is being inexplicable for a lot of other andalites.  It takes a lot of hard knocks to get him there, and to move him away from his “ideal self” and “ought self” both being “Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul,” but he does learn how to be a version of Aximili that he actually likes by the end of the war.  Ax’s resilience is also fairly good, not in the least because he’s willing to use the others as coping resources.  Ax has several different types of self-concept — as an andalite warrior, as an Animorph, as an ambassador to humans, as a shorm to Tobias, as an aristh to Jake, as a leader of the resistance movement — and that allows him to absorb blows and keep on coming.

IMHO Rachel and Marco are both classic cases of “fragile” or “defensive” self-esteem.  Both of them will talk your ear off about their own greatness, and both of them suspect that that greatness is a lie they’re telling themselves.

Rachel’s got high self-efficacy about a lot of things that are less important to her — shopping, academics, winning friends and influencing people.  She doubts herself much more when it comes to the things she values — friendship, ethics, family support, leadership.  A lot of that is about high self-discrepancy.  She knows that her ought self is Nice Rachel, who likes shopping and boys but not violence or assertiveness (#32).  She fears that her actual self is far closer to Mean Rachel.  Rachel’s resiliency also starts out high but drops off throughout the series.  To a point, she can cope with stressors through finding other parts of herself to lean on.  But one by one those support pillars fall: her father leaves (#7), she loses interest in casual pastimes (#12), she discovers she’s capable of terrible harm (#22), she fails as a leader (#37), she perceives her friends pulling away (#48), and her mother emotionally abandons her (#52).  By the end of the series, she’s almost entirely run out of resilience.

Marco’s tricky, because what Marco tells us and what Marco shows us are extremely discrepant.  He’s got high self-efficacy about his ability to strategize — and he kind of hates his own strategic mind (#30).  He’s got low self-efficacy about his general intelligence — and he values intelligence above most other abilities (#14, #35).  He’s a classic 1990s kid who fakes shallowness to fit in while also quietly being the smartest person on the team (#10, #45).  Marco’s got a crystal-clear image of his actual self as an ice-cold mamakiller, and understands the vast gulf between that actual self and his ought self.  BUT he’s also a lot warmer and more capable of caring about baby seals (#25) and fellow humans (#5) than he realizes.  Marco largely achieves his ideal self: he rescues his parents, establishes a new version of a normal life with them, saves the world, becomes rich and famous... and discovers that he’s wildly unsatisfied with his own dreams (#54).  It’s doubtful Marco would be resilient without his parents, but for the last 10 books in the series Marco (unlike everyone else) does have guardians whom he can rely on.  That family becomes the coping resource that gets him through the end of the war reasonably intact.

Tl;dr: Marco or Rachel would score highest on a written measure of self-esteem, while Jake or Tobias would be lowest, but we know enough about all six kids to know that all of those answers would be wildly misleading.

#animorphs #animorphs meta #tobias fangor #long post #psychobabble #self esteem #self discrepancy #self efficacy #resiliency #ask me about my views on the rosenberg self-esteem scale #no actually don't #anonymous #asks

[justanotherghostwriter]

Cake and loneliness? For hurt comfort prompts?

Going back to your first fandom is like slipping into a hot bath on a cold day. It hurts for the first second, and then it just feels like a warm hug. Except, in this case, I also cried inside a little bit because these kids are so broken. Thanks for the prompt, Martin. Post-war Cake below the cut. As with all the others: there was a timer. Sorry if it seems rushed as a result.

There was very little reason for Jake to lock the doors to his house. For starters, there really wasn’t much inside worth stealing. And even those few things could be replaced in an hour or so, anyway. If they were fans that broke in, looking for memorabilia, all they could take were things he wouldn’t miss; it wasn’t like he had any family photos or other sentimental or precious items lying around his home. If people who hated him broke in…

Again: he could replace what was vandalised without having to think about it. Paint over whatever graffiti had been left for him. Defend himself, if need be. Not to hurt, if he could help it. And never to kill. He knew he couldn’t make the call whether they deserved it or not so he just… erred on the side of caution. As though that would make up for anything. As though there wasn’t a part of him that itched to retaliate. To join the army. To start his own. To just go back to a life where the things that kept him from sleeping weren’t the same rattling chains of ghosts on repeat.

Jake was also very good at finding reasons not to be at home, a habit he’d picked up at thirteen and hadn’t shaken despite his house being, arguably, now the safest place for him. It was certainly the quietest. Still, he automatically sought distractions and reasons not to return to the sparse furniture he’d picked out at random, which meant he arrived at his front door at close to midnight, almost tired enough to fall into a sleep that would be dreamless for at least an hour or two. The doorknob turned easily in his hand, and there was nothing about the streetlight-lit entrance hall that looked out of place.

But… There was something just a little bit off. Something just a little too quiet for a warm summer night. Sighing internally, Jake dropped his keys and closed the front door behind him, not bothering to be quiet because he hadn’t been when opening the front door, so if there was somebody inside, he’d already been heard. He padded towards the open-plan kitchen and thought of his second-skin, letting the orange and black fur curl around him. Practise had made him almost able to get the fangs and the eyes without much else, but it was nowhere near perfect. Perhaps because he wasn’t really trying for perfection, just good-enough. Or perhaps he was just simply not as good as –

Cassie.

There was an owl perched on the curtain rail in his living room, but all the windows were still closed. It regarded him. He regarded it. For a long, long moment, the world slipped by like water. And then Jake demorphed completely, went to his fridge, and made a meal that had more vegetables in it than there would have been if there wasn’t an owl on his curtain rail watching him. He didn’t have a table, so he ate as he usually did – standing over the sink, half washing dishes between bites. He dressed into clean pyjamas and laid out a pair of sweats and a jumper, and then got into bed and watched the world outside the curtains he’d purposefully not closed. All the sleepiness seemed to have been sucked back into his muscles, leaving him tense and wired.

But the night continued to pass around him and, eventually, physical overcame mental and he started to drift. He let the sounds of soft footsteps and soft rustling bleed into the night noises that started up presumably once the predator had stopped looming so close. The body entering the bed beside him, warm and soft, was just a wave on the ocean. He knew this didn’t mean anything. Especially not in the way the rest of the world would try to make it real with the concepts they could understand but that didn’t fit into their pockets.

As they always had, Jake and Cassie lay with a layer of blanket between their bodies. She started out with her back facing his, and then she rolled over, suddenly, and flung her arms around him, pulling him close. And he thought about hands entwining on bus rides. And he thought about how her left hand curling around his head could have had a ring on it. And he thought about how, just yesterday, he’d admitted that he would give anything to have one more battle to fight. Simply because he was good at fighting.

In the morning, he knew from experience, they would make breakfast and avoid eye contact, saying nothing, like two Barbie dolls controlled by hands forcing them to play out a scene while they remained mute and plastic. It wasn’t about companionship; it was simply because the loneliness got too vast to be able to breathe in, sometimes. Jake loved her too much to let himself love her, and he was proud that she held him but didn’t try to hold him together.

“Mom and Dad are retiring,” she said into his back. She told him why, but did not tell him how she felt about it. And he stayed silent, because she wasn’t asking for his input. It just had to be said out loud to be real. He understood that, even if he couldn’t articulate it.

When she was done, he told her about the new recruits. About Marco’s new up-and-coming movie, the plot of which he’d already forgotten. A real owl hooted somewhere close, and the night continued around them. And he felt more solid, because one person knew the latest bits of his story; saw his latest footprints and that made him real.

“Goodnight,” she said, when he was done.

“Night.”

But neither of them slept, because they didn’t want to wake the other with nightmares.

#Ghostfic #Prompt Fill #American Cry #Cake #I missed my firstborn son Jake Berenson very much #One day maybe I'll write something other than sleepy sad cuddles #Today is not that day apparently #I have a BRAND (TM)