#I’m waiting for the inevitable firestorm I get from this

[ebellaart]

I do post dinluke, was present on the old server for awhile, and have been here for a long time, so I feel I should say something about the current discourse. No, I am not a big creator here in the fandom but I still want to say something. I’ve reblogged a lot of the relevant discourse on my main blog if this seems to be coming out of nowhere from me.

What people are pointing out here is real and an actual issue.

When trying to introduce folks outside of the inner dinluke circle to this pairing I have needed to give detailed warnings about how to avoid the fetishization and racist tropes if they choose to look through the tag on Tumblr or AO3.

Just because a few people have done some math, doesn’t mean that you can hold that as gospel.

As someone who is quite familiar with analyzing data, math isn’t always the tell all truth, especially with phenomena such as this that are extremely hard to quantify. Percentages mean nothing when there are testimonies of members of the affected groups stating that something has harmed them. Hurt and the lasting effects of a trope are not easily quantified, so we should just LISTEN. As someone who was present briefly on the old server I can say that it was hard for me to escape content like what people are mentioning, and it definitely contributed to me not being super active as the server died.

Promote and create better content.

Full disclosure, I have simmered out a lot in creating for dinluke because I’m afraid my stuff won’t get any attention if I don’t put Luke in a dress, make his body thin and dainty, or make Din present a certain way. If you know you know. But it has also put a fire under my ass to create MORE stuff that doesn’t contribute to harmful tropes that are legitimately pushing people away.

Let’s make this ship a place for everyone.

Properly tag

Listen to what people are saying

Be kind

#I’m waiting for the inevitable firestorm I get from this #star wars #luke skywalker #the mandalorian #dinluke #din djarin #I don’t care if people get mad at me I said my piece #bella talking

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 6: By the Light of the Dawn

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

You wake up to the sweetest sight.

A/N: having a pretty rough week so not much for words other than that I hope you are all doing great and thank you for reading <3 love you!

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

It was still raining.

You could feel the cold mist from the window and pulled the blankets up a little higher. It was colder than you remembered and that was because you were alone. Your space heater was gone. Liu Kang had left at some point. You had to remind yourself that he was a busy man but you were also disappointed not to wake up in his arms. They were spectacular arms, after all. And they had left you with the most wonderful of memories.

You rolled onto your side, tugging the blanket securely beneath your arms and pushed your wild hair away from your face. Much to your surprise, you spotted Liu Kang on the floor, meditating next to your bed. He hadn’t left after all. Your stomach was filled with butterflies that were doing acrobatics and you admired him. He sat shirtless, eyes closed, breathing deep and, rather shamelessly, you watched him. Why wouldn’t you? It wasn’t like how you felt about him was exactly a secret anymore. Things had happened in such a blur that you felt you had more than earned the chance to admire him. He was a fine specimen of a man.

Was it wrong of you to love how vascular he was? Why was it such a turn on? You couldn’t explain it. It just did all the right things for you. You adjusted on the bed and watched him. You’d wait patiently for him to finish up. There were thousands of things you had to think about that morning but right now the only thing you wanted to think about was Liu Kang.

The moment was peaceful. You nearly fell back to sleep.

When he finished his posture changed and he peeked one eye open to catch your gaze. You watched as those perfect lips curled into that subtle and familiar smile, how his eyes sparkled with admiration. You shook off the chills. He crawled over to you and, hand engulfing your cheek, pressed his lips to yours in a stolen kiss. You smiled against his lips but returned the sweet sentiment. You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to kissing Liu Kang. It made those butterflies do flips again.

“Mmm…” You pointed at him and then gently poked his shoulder with the same finger. “Morning breath.” Your lips brushed against his as you spoke and you couldn’t take your eyes off of them. He laughed and it was a sweet and soft sound. He looked tired.

“Morning breath.” He repeated but did not pull away from you. His thumb brushed just against your cheek and then, despite your proclamation of morning breath, his lips captured yours again. Your heart was in your throat. Fuck morning breath, these kisses were well worth it. They were so sweet and tender, the perfect thing to wake up to. You shivered as he pulled back. Then he folded his arms on the edge of the bed and rested his chin on his forearm. You scooted back just enough to better catch his gaze.

Your past self never would have believed this. The woman who had woken up in the infirmary with Liu Kang taking care of her and had attacked him with a frail needle out of fear never would have believed it. You’d been attracted to him from that first moment and now here you were, lost in those dark and thoughtful eyes.

“I have to go but I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.” He offered a tired smile. Had he not slept? You figured that he had to go. Honestly, you’d expected him to be gone. He’d been so busy since you’d gotten back from Huangshan. The fact that he’d refused to leave that morning without seeing you was incredibly generous and thoughtful. You were grateful. If you hadn’t gotten to see him, you would have been wondering what it meant all damn day. You were going to be wondering that anyway but at least now you’d know that it hadn’t been a mistake. That sweet morning kiss had been the best reassurance.

“I appreciate that.”

“Are you okay?” His eyes were sparkling with mischief, as if he knew the answer, so you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You know damn well that I’m just fine.” You teased. He looked rather pleased with himself again and you couldn’t blame him, really. You were becoming quite the fan of confident Liu Kang. His cockiness was kind of adorable. It was less like a strutting bird the way Kung Lao could be and more like a puppy after being told they’d been good. “Are you okay? You look tired.” You leaned your chin on your hand, elbow rested on the bed. Liu Kang admired you, like you were just as worthy of admiration as he was. That was still something you struggled to wrap your mind around. You’d never put much effort into your looks. To think that maybe he had admired you the way you admired him when he wasn’t looking was astounding. It was wonderful.

“Yes. I’m working on a sleep deficit.” He pushed your hair away from your face and tucked it again behind your ear. You were an addict for that sweet motion. It gave you the chills again and your heart sped up. These were stolen moments in the morning with Liu Kang. What a way to start the day. You should have probably taken those moments to talk about this. To talk about what you’d done. About the clear and obvious connection you’d shared since the moment you met.

But now didn’t seem to be the time. He had to go. You would find time later. Not that he seemed to be rushing out of the room. No, instead of getting dressed he’d elected to brush his fingers through your hair. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch.

You had plenty to think about after he left. You hadn’t been careful and you hadn’t been on birth control for about a month now, at least. Time was kind of funny since you’d gotten to Raiden’s Temple. Those days lost in unconsciousness had altered your perception of it. The idea of asking Chen for help with fertility issues made you want to die of embarrassment. But it was either see if the infirmary could help you out or find your way to the nearest city so you could help yourself.

You were happy to do that but you had the distinct feeling that going to a city involved asking Kung Lao, Liu Kang, or Raiden for permission and asking anyone besides Liu Kang would be mortifying. You’d work on getting your story straight first. Since you were such a horrendous liar, you had to come up with a legitimate reason to need to leave the temple, one that you could talk about without stuttering or giving yourself away. That was something you struggled with.

But that was a problem for later. Right now, you were enjoying your stolen morning with Liu Kang because you were sure that wherever he needed to be? He was late. These moments were made that much more precious. He had worlds to say behind his dark eyes but he didn’t say any of them.

There was no time.

But there would be plenty of time later. With any luck, you’d be seeing Liu Kang more consistently than you had been since you’d returned from Huangshan. Even if it was only late at night or in a moment of free time, you would take it. You longed for those days where you sat huddled close together, pouring over passages from a book. Just a few minutes in his arms was all you needed.

“I have to go.” He pulled his hand back with a heavy sigh. Then, regrettably, he began the process of getting dressed. You continued to admire him with a smile, eyes lingering on the dragon mark on his side. He looked to you in surprise and you shrugged. Then he bowed to you politely after he’d been dressed. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“Later, Liu.”

He left, closing the door gingerly behind him. Then you whined and pulled the blankets over your head, curling up. That was a reminder of how naked you were.

You’d slept with Liu Kang.

It hadn’t been a one-night thing where you’d submitted to your attraction to each other, either. Part of you had thought that once you’d gotten that tension and lust out of your system then the attraction would have faded. Maybe your relationship would have shifted. But that hadn’t been the case. Not at all.

If anything it had made the tension that much more intense. You hadn’t discussed it but he had stayed with you. He’d waited patiently for you to wake up just so he could have that moment with you in the morning. There was no more hesitation before kisses either. He’d become quite bold.

Your heart raced just thinking about those gentle kisses in the morning and then the more intimate moments the night before. You pulled the blankets from over your face and fanned yourself. Sitting up, you felt your shoulder ache. Had you overdone it last night? In the heat of the moment you’d felt no pain but now it was back to aching. You should probably check in with Chen about your shoulder. You would consider how to ask about birth control without giving yourself away, too.

There were dozens of reasons besides sex to ask about it. You could use any one of those as an excuse to go to a city when Chen, inevitably, didn’t have any. It was as good an excuse as any and you thought you might be able to pull it off with a straight face. You wanted to take care of your reproductive health, that was all. Also you didn’t want to get knocked-up with any tiny versions of you and Liu. Getting up, you got cleaned up, dressed, and made your way toward the infirmary.

After rounding the corner that led to the stairs, you nearly ran right into Kung Lao. He beamed at the sight of you and you stumbled back and were immediately defensive.

Shit.

Childhood crush and best friend standing right in front of you. You were not ready to deal with that yet.

“Hey!”

You guessed he was likely on Y/N-duty again but he seemed pretty happy about it.

“Hi.” You didn’t mean to sound defensive and jumpy but you were defensive, jumpy and a terrible liar.

“Wow. Is that any way to greet a friend? What’s going on with you?”

“You surprised me and my shoulder kills and…” You managed to take a deep breath and relax enough to sound less perturbed than you were. Kung Lao grasped your wrist and urged you to show him the mark on your shoulder. You did, but with a roll of your eyes.

“Aching today?”

“Sounds silly but I think the rain makes it worse.”

“Not silly. I have this knee thing that’s like that. Old injury. When it rains like this it still hurts.” He shrugged and let go of your wrist then grinned. “I saw Liu on the way here. Did he stop by this morning? He looked happier than usual. Usually has something to do with you.”

“Uh…” You stuttered nervously and knew you either had to lie or spill your guts right there and you were not ready to spill your guts. You hadn’t even talked to Liu about it yet, dammit! “Yeah, I saw him. I’m glad he’s happy.”

“You’re being weirder than usual.”

“Am I?” You were high-pitched again and Kung Lao laughed at you but dismissed your weirdness. Thank goodness you’d been so weird lately that Kung Lao didn’t notice the difference when you were extra uncomfortable.

“The rain is supposed to stop soon so I figured we could go someplace safe to try and get your crazy arcana under control. If you’re up for it, that is.”

“I mean…” You weren’t sure that you were up for it but you also knew that it was important to do just that. You hoped beyond hope that it was possible. It would be nice to sleep without worrying about imprisoning yourself in your room or hurting someone lying in bed next to you.

“What’s your excuse today?” Kung Lao sighed rather dramatically.

“Excuse?”

“You’re full of reasons not to deal with it lately.”

“If the captain of avoidance is calling me out then it must be bad.”

“That’s right, Y/N.”

“I was going to the infirmary to get my shoulder checked out but I suppose it can wait.” You considered your options. It would be nice to feel capable for a few minutes. “It’s been worse than this before, so it’s not urgent.” You needed to get the whole ‘birth control’ thing settled too but waiting a few hours wasn’t going to change what you’d done. In the meantime, maybe you could come up with a reason for you and Kung Lao to go to the nearest city or something. He was easily distracted by shiny things. You could absolutely manage to get what you needed without him noticing.

“I can try to help with some stretches for it, if you want.”

“You’re not a doctor so I’m going to say no.” You headed again to the stairs. Even if you did go to work on your arcana with Kung Lao, you still needed food. You were ravenous.

“Y/N! I happen to be an excellent martial artist. You think I don’t know how to take care of my body?”

“Fine, fine. You can show me some stretches. You’re an excellent whatever. I need food. Are you coming or can I go?”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“I don’t care, Kung Lao. I need food.”

“Are you avoiding me? Because now it’s starting to sound like you’re avoiding me.” Kung Lao teased and grasped your wrist to keep you from going down the stairs.

“No, I’m not avoiding you. I’m trying to get breakfast.” You laughed though part of you thought avoiding him until you could talk to Liu was a good idea. You’d gotten so swept up in the night before that you hadn’t thought about the lifelong connection and romantic tension that was Kung Lao. It wasn’t like sleeping with Liu Kang made that disappear. Kung Lao had been your dream for so much of your life that now you weren’t sure how to feel. You felt guilty for the connection you had with Liu Kang even if you knew you shouldn’t.

You had to talk to Kung Lao but what exactly would you say? That you were mixed up after doing what you did with Liu Kang? That you weren’t sure what anything meant anymore? That seemed like a dumb way to start a conversation especially since Kung Lao ran from feelings like they were trying to kill him. You had to talk to Liu first but that also felt awkward. For a terrifying moment you considered that maybe Liu Kang wouldn’t want this to be more than a physical thing. It wasn’t like you’d actually discussed feelings even if you had come much closer to it than you and Kung Lao had.

Your tiny brain was suddenly so distracted by terrifying new obstacles that it went into panic mode.

“Are you okay? I was just teasing.” Kung Lao broke you out of your thoughts. He was looking at you as though you had seven heads. That was fair.

“I’m okay.” You calmed down.

“You’re being weird. Are you sure you don’t need to talk about something?”

“I’m sure.” You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. There was something you did need to talk about that you hadn’t yet. You knew about the bet that he and Liu had made regarding you and your choice. Liu had come clean but Kung Lao hadn’t said a word even though you were certain that he was the guiltier party. Liu Kang had taken responsibility for it but you knew them both well enough to guess Kung Lao’s involvement. “Is there something that you need to talk to me about?” You batted your eyelashes. Good. Turn it around on him. Then maybe he’d stop prying so much.

“Uh…” There was that guilt radiating from him again. It was brief. His face had dropped and his expression had tightened. But it was only a flicker before he was back to his goofy self. “No. You’re right though. Food first. If your arcana is still draining you then you definitely need to eat. And I could go for some tea.”

“Kung Lao, are you lying to me?” Hands on your hips, you watched him expectantly.

“You’d never be able to tell if I was, Y/N.”

“Oh? Is that so? Then how much of what you’ve said since you found me has been a lie, exactly?” He deserved this, you decided. Besides, you’d promised Liu Kang that you might pretend to be a little mad at Kung Lao until he told you the truth.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Y/N. Don’t be like that.”

“But if you’re such a gifted liar then how could I possibly be sure that anything is the truth?” You were proud to have successfully navigated your way through that conversation. You were no longer the one on edge.

“Wow, okay. I’m going to shut your mouth with food here in a second so we can focus.” He laughed, lazily urging his arm around your shoulder. “You’re thinking too much, Y/N. It’s a problem.”

“Is that a lie? If I can never tell that you’re lying, then everything could be a lie, Kung Lao. I had no idea you were so gifted.”

“I regret saying that.”

“You should.”

“Just please come eat with me. I’m sorry that I said I was such a good liar. I exaggerated for comedic effect, okay?”

“But what if that’s a lie.” You teased and then patted him on the back. “I’m kidding. Let’s find food.” You decided to go to the infirmary when you were done training with Kung Lao. For now you would get food, train, and go from there. You’d try to convince him to go into the city with you too. Why not?

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #kung lao #liu kang #liu kang x reader #fanfic #drabble #fluff #mk movie #arcana #female reader #reader insert #liu kang x you #drama #romance #fanfiction #ludi lin #max huang #liu kang/you #the oncoming storm #angst #firestorm #slow burn #mk kung lao #mk liu kang #mortal kombat fanfic #mk fanfic #mortal kombat fanfiction

[pro-bee]

the road less traveled

Note: I cooked this up in the last 24 hours to try to work through some writer’s block on my post-reunion WIP. So this is a bit of a stream of consciousness mess, but if I don’t post this now, I’m gonna chicken out and all my other ideas are going to go PFFT. Also, this is inspired by all the discourse you guys have been floating around lately so it’s your fault.

Rating: G

Spoilers: Nada. Generally season 17. Possibly AU depending on how you look at things. (Also assumes Summer of Secret Sex happened don’t start with me)

Relationships: Implied Tiva. Vague mentions of Bishop/Torres. General team bonding.

Words: 1700

Summary: Sometimes a case hits a little too close to home. Sometimes it makes people want to do something about it.

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

“How could they have known that they each had feelings for each other for so long and not done anything about it?! That had to have been torture!”

Bishop has been on a rant since their team got to their table at their favorite watering hole, decompressing after yet another wild case that has prodded at more than a few wounds between them. It was a story of star-crossed lovers, who held back on their feelings for one another for fear of ruining their friendship (and losing their jobs), until one made a tragic mistake and the other paid for it. One of those times where they get no satisfaction out of getting their suspect, because of the chaos left in its wake. 

“Don’t ask me. I have been in love with the same man since I was 23 and I still haven’t fully figured it out.”

Ziva’s unexpected candor (and unexpected help in the investigation) catches the younger agent off-guard; she wasn’t counting on things taking such a personal turn. Bishop gives her a sad smile, though the answer clearly isn’t the one she necessarily wants to hear at the moment. Torres shifts nervously in his seat across the table from her, unclear on where this conversation is headed, on edge the way he is whenever he’s around his predecessor.

The admission gives McGee pause, but maybe this isn’t the time to press.  “It’s funny, looking at us all now, with families of our own, I can’t imagine having to wait that long to finally be with the person you love. I mean, waiting for years just to act on your attraction…”

“Oh, we definitely acted on it,” she offers in typical Ziva bluntness. “We just failed to follow through on any of it.”

McGee nearly chokes on his drink at the revelation. The wheels start to spin in his head, his eyebrows creased in confusion, as he pieces it together at lightning speed. 

“You guys were sleeping together?!”

“I mean, not the whole time,” her hand waves around on its own, as if to punctuate the sentence, “But… some of the times, yes.”

“Like when?!”

“Now look who is butting in! I would expect that from Tony, but you?” She tsks at him, with mock sternness, until she notices the desperation in his eyes as his world seems to have turned upside down. “Okay, fine… Like… Like, when Gibbs retired, for instance.”

(“Gibbs retired?” “When did this happen?” their newer counterparts interject in unison, but their curiosity goes unanswered in the firestorm happening around them.)

“Back then?! That was… Ziva that almost fifteen years ago! You guys have been together for fifteen years?!”

“No! That is my whole point! We were not together together. We were just… what do you say? Letting out air?”

“Blowing off steam?”

“Yes! That!” Her own drink nearly flies off the table.

“Wait, that means—  How did you keep it a secret for so long?!”

“I knew!” Palmer offers helpfully.

“I am fairly certain everyone knew, eventually.”

“No way!  Gibbs didn’t.” 

“Gibbs definitely knew,” she snorts at the memory of being on the receiving end of his beady stare one morning when she and her partner were just a hair more heated in their bickering than usual, even for them.

“And you lived to tell the tale?!” Surely Boss would have banished them to desk duty, or worse yet, Inventory, if he found out they were hot bunking.

“I believe it was a case of don’t ask, don’t tell. Besides, it’s not like it affected our work.”

“True, you two were just as unprofessional as always.”

She flings her discarded crumpled straw wrapper at him.

His mind still reels, though.

“How— how did I not know that my best friends were hooking up behind my back?!”

“McGee!” she lilts, stretching his name out like a song in the way only she does,  “You cannot be serious! You wrote a whole book about us! Several, in fact!”

“For the last time, Tommy and Lisa were not about you and Tony! Those books were works of fiction!”

“Oh come on McGee,” pipes in Torres, who had until now tried his best to find any escape from this forced socialization. “Even I knew that! And I’ve never even read your books.”

“Or a book, period,” his partner mutters into her glass.

“How do you even know about—?”

“Bishop,” he shrugs.

“Ellie!”

“What?! It’s not like it’s a secret, Tim.”

“It’s personal! And again, Tommy and Lisa are fictional.”

Bishop and Torres roll their eyes in unison.

“Well, then, you must have psychic powers in addition to your keen observational skills as an agent,” she teases, with only a touch of sarcasm in her voice. She can’t believe they’re really hashing out their scars in the open like this, but it is a brave new world.

McGee finally shakes his head and laughs in disbelief, and even she can’t help the grin stretching across her face. Old friends, indeed.

She takes a breath and grounds herself back to reality, reminded again of the point she was trying to make in the first place. “What I am trying to say is that it is so easy to get caught up in your own fears when it comes to matters of the heart. You get so scared that you are not enough, that you are going to upset whatever it is between you, and that when you inevitably mess it all up, and you will, that you are going to ruin the one good thing you have. So you lie to yourself that you do not have it and that it does not mean anything.”

“Are we talking about you or the petty officer now?”

“Both,” she answers with a hint of a wistful smile. McGee returns with his own expression of sympathy, fully aware of all those twists and turns that have led to where his friends are now.

The group sits in companionable silence for a spell, the weight of the week’s case lifting, only to be replaced with familiar exhaustion. 

Ziva feels a buzz coming from her pocket, reminding her that, yes, these matters do come to a close somehow.

- Having fun on a school night?  

- Going down memory lane with the team. 

- The good ones, I hope?

- They are now. :-) Just about done, heading home soon.

- Can’t wait. Kiddo’s asleep. ;-) Love you. 

McGee across the table notices the way her eyes crinkle as she glances at her screen. Once again, he is grateful for these small mercies they’ve been granted. How this story eventually got the happy ending it deserved.

“Well, this has been fun, but it is getting late and I should get home.” She pushes herself off the seat and grabs her coat, untangling her curls from the collar as she twists her arms through the sleeves. “I will see you all soon, I hope.”

“Yeah, I’m beat too,” Torres chimes in, “I’ll walk you out.”

The gang exchange goodnights and talk to you laters, with only the faintest of intrigue from Bishop as her partner, who is not known for his chivalrous nature, follows Ziva out the door.

Standing face to face now, at their full height, Ziva narrows her own eyes at the man, seeing right through him and daring him to come out with it, already.

“Ziva, what you said in there… Is that why you keep pushing me about Bishop?”

She stares at her feet for a second and breaks into a genuine grin now.

“Ah, he finally catches on.”

He breathes in, swallowing his nerves with every gulp of air reaching his lungs. She supposes it’s time to put him out of his misery.

“Look, Agent Torres, if there is anything I have learned throughout all of this, it is that time is the most precious resource we have. I know that it sounds like a cliché, believe me, but it is the truth. When I think about all the time Tony and I wasted over the years… It was not worth it.”

“Yeah, but it seems to have worked out, right?”

“Yes, it has,” she presses her lips together in a regretful smile. “But it very nearly did not. We missed out on so much, I missed out on so much, and it was all because I let fear get the best of me. I liked to tell myself that I was not scared of anything, when really, I was scared of everything.”

Torres absorbs the confession with appropriate gravity.

“Nick, do not let fear rule you. I promise you, whatever happens, taking that chance is worth the risk. I wish I had had the courage much sooner. It might have saved us all a lot of pain.”

He glances through the blinds in the window at the object of this discussion, only for Ellie to catch his eye at that moment. They each avert their gaze on opposite sides of the pane, feeling decidedly like the suspects they’ve just interrogated, without fully understanding why.

“What if I can’t do it?”

“You are a smart man. You will figure it out. You bested me, did you not?” It’s his turn to laugh, and she answers in turn. Maybe she has gotten through to him, after all.

She reaches out to gently pat his elbow. “Take care, Agent Torres.” 

With that, she takes her leave and heads down the street towards her car, the heels of her boots clicking down the sidewalk with every step, leaving Nick to reflect on her words of wisdom. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, unsure of how to proceed. With one last look into the bar, he turns in the opposite direction in search of his own vehicle, more confused than ever. Yet somehow he knows that the former agent is right.

What he doesn’t realize as he turns his back is that Bishop takes one last look at him, Ziva’s words ringing in her ears as well. That maybe blazing the road not travelled is not as scary as it may seem. 

- Bishop, you’ve got a big mouth. See you tomorrow.

She grins at her phone in spite of herself. Maybe that’s a thought for another day. 

#my fanfiction #ziva david #can i tag this as tiva fanfiction? #i mean not really cause they aren't technically there #but i mean everything i write is tiva lmao #i don't even know what this is but i blame all of you #also i don't know anything about torres and bishop #so i just made assumptions #🤷‍♀️

[artificialqueens]

Undone, Chapter 28 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Hey guys. To anyone who’s still reading this story, thank you for your patience between chapters, I know it’s been slow! Here’s a link to the previous chapters. Thank you so much to some very patient and helpful betas: @opalescent-cheetah, @artificialpuddle, @blackhighheels 

Chapter Summary: Bianca faces the dreaded lawyer meeting. 

NOTE: The role of Bianca’s divorce attorney has been recast as Asia O’Hara. 

TW: Emotional abuse, physical intimidation, gaslighting, PTSD 

***

“B...don’t you want to take a break?” Courtney tries to speak casually, but she can feel the edge of frustration creeping in. Bianca has spent all weekend at the sewing machine, creating garments at a manic pace. She’s barely slept since her call with Asia on Thursday, and only eats or sleeps when Courtney forces the issue. What began as concern is now full-on anxiety over her health. “Come on...we could go for a walk. Or take a nap. And I made that pesto thing you like, so-”

“I just need fifteen minutes,” Bianca mumbles. If she can keep her hands busy, she doesn’t have to think about Asia’s words turning over and over in her mind.

Don’t expect any resolutions right away.

Be sure to send me the sonogram pictures and a blood test. They’re going to want immediate proof.

No one can predict how he’s going to react.

She doesn’t have time to stop and even acknowledge Courtney; she has no desire to bring Courtney into the firestorm of bullshit racing through her mind right now.

“You said that an hour ago.” Courtney sighs and walks closer, sitting on the edge of the table right beside her sewing machine.

“I have to finish these pants.” Bianca grits her teeth and presses the pedal harder, shoving the tweed fabric through the surger.

Courtney puts a hand on top of the machine and states matter-of-factly, “B, you’re working too hard.”

“Maybe you don’t work hard enough,” Bianca snaps back.

The second the words leave her mouth, dreads surges through her veins, making her heart race and her skin heat up. A terrible feeling creeps into her stomach. This is how it starts. A snide comment here, a sarcastic insult there. Why does she always alienate people? What’s wrong with her?

Her eyes are misty when she finally dares to raise them, to look at Courtney and assess the damage. Only when she does, it’s not an angry face glaring down at her. Courtney’s expression is a bit surprised, but mostly...amused?

“Perhaps,” Courtney says with a giggle. “But my point still stands. You need to take a break.”

Bianca nods, trying to get a grip on her emotions, which at the moment feel all over the map. She’s relieved, mostly, that Courtney isn’t angry or offended, but also drowning in guilt, and her heart still races with leftover panic.

Courtney tilts her head, noticing the color in her cheeks, the glassy-eyed stare, the way her shoulders stiffen.

“Are you okay?”

Bianca nods, afraid that if she speaks, it’ll all come spilling out. All the darkness that she’s been desperately trying to hold back. The fear, the anger, the exhaustion. Courtney runs a hand through her hair, a motion that would normally be welcome and soothing. But right now, it feels almost oppressive, making Bianca’s muscles tense even more.

When she still doesn’t speak, Courtney drags a chair over and sits down right beside her. She takes both of Bianca’s hands in hers.

“Please tell me what’s wrong, Bianca.”

“I…” She doesn’t even know how to begin. The whole time she’s been living here, she’s been trying to force herself to listen to what everyone says about Jared. That what happened between them wasn’t her fault. And she does believe it, to a degree. But sometimes in her darkest hours, there’s still a sliver of doubt that creeps in.

What if it was my fault?

Because she remembers how sweet and loving and generous he was when they first met. How he showered her with love and affection. Went out of his way to make her feel special and loved and desired.

Just like Courtney does.

He wasn’t angry or cruel when they first got together. He became that way over months and years, and Bianca sometimes can’t shake the feeling that she made him that way. And even worse...her deepest fear, one she has barely even acknowledged to herself, is that not only did she make him like that. But that something inside her is so broken that she actually needs that destructive energy. That she can’t be in a normal relationship, or accept normal love.  

That no matter what she does, she will end up destroying the goodness in Courtney with her anger, her bitterness.

She’s not trying to hide these thoughts from Courtney, not exactly. She’s just so deeply ashamed, so terrified of being exposed as a monster.  

Courtney hasn’t gone anywhere. She’s still stroking the back of Bianca’s hands, waiting patiently for an explanation that Bianca knows isn’t coming. Because now, even if she wanted to, she can’t get any words out.

As hard as she tried to keep everything in, Bianca can’t stop the hot, bitter tears from streaming down her cheeks. She takes a few gasping breaths, but it’s not enough, not enough air. When she begins to hyperventilate, Courtney goes from gentle, supportive concern to overt worry, cupping her cheeks.

“Hey...look at me. We’re gonna breathe. In….out…” She nods as Bianca copies her breathing, desperately trying to pull herself together.

“Court, I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to explain,” she chokes out.  

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. Keep breathing...” She takes an exaggerated breath in.  

“No, I want to tell you...but I just…” Bianca’s breath hitches again.

“I know. I know you do.” Courtney gently brushes the tears from her cheeks. “But it can wait-”

“But you deserve an explanation.”

“It can wait,” Courtney repeats. “Just breathe.”

Bianca nods, finally releasing some of the tension in her shoulders. She sits silently, tears still trickling down her face, until her breathing is back to normal. She lets Courtney help her to her feet, pulling her into an embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m just...sometimes I get so scared that you’re gonna end up hating me.”

Courtney pulls back, looking into her eyes.

“I could never hate you. Ever,” she says.

“You say that now, but-” a sob escapes from Bianca’s chest, but she tries to push through. “But I say stupid shit, and I don’t mean it, but I-”

Courtney’s gently kissing away her tears. Her unending patience suddenly feels stifling, like Bianca will never be worth it.

“I know this is gonna end. I know I’ll fuck it up, I always do.”

Bianca watches Courtney take a deep breath, terrified that she’s already begun to destroy what they’ve worked so hard to build. Heart in her throat, stomach in knots, as she waits for the inevitable rejection.

“Look at me,” she says, waiting for Bianca’s eyes to meet hers before continuing. Saying adamantly, “I’m not him.”

Unable to respond with anything more than a slight nod, Bianca bites her lip.

“Do you hear me? I’m not him.” Courtney pulls her close again, holding her tight, lips grazing her ear. Bianca feels weak and dizzy from crying, finally allowing herself to lean on Courtney for support.

She’s not sure how long they stand there, but it’s long enough for the body heat to make her comfortably sweaty, for her lips to find Courtney’s, brushing against her in a light kiss.

“How are you doing?” Courtney murmurs. “Wanna lie down?”

“No.” Bianca tucks her face against Courtney’s neck.

“Wanna dance it out?”

“Definitely not.”

“Why not?!” Courtney asks, giggling. “Endorphins will make you feel better.”

“Good idea. Let’s have sex,” Bianca says against her skin, teeth grazing her jaw.

“Mmm, no. If we have sex when you’re upset, you’re gonna associate sex with trauma, which will take a lot of the fun out of it. No sex,” Courtney finishes decisively.  

“Ugh, you’re so bossy.”

“I’m bossy?” Courtney pulls back, one eyebrow so high it’s nearly to her hairline.

Bianca laughs, finally breaking the tension in the air. She reaches up to cup Courtney’s cheek, tired and grateful and relieved all at the same time.

“Can I make you a cup of tea?” Courtney asks.

“Yeah, alright,” she agrees, settling back into her chair with a sigh.

***

Courtney would never admit it out loud, but the truth is, she’s nervous. She’s seen these ultrasound pictures before--mostly in movies and TV shows--and she’s never seen anything but a floating amorphous blob. Is she gonna have to lie and tell Bianca that a blurry mass is beautiful? What’s she going to say when it comes up on the screen?

It turns out, her worrying is all for naught. Because when she finally does look at the screen, Bianca’s hand clasped in both of hers, what she sees is the shifting image of a baby.

“Oh my god!” she can’t help exclaiming. “It looks like a person!”

“What were you expecting?” Bianca laughs.

“Um...more like...somewhere between a potato and a spaceship.”

“Ahh.” Bianca nods, then deadpans, “So are you disappointed?”

“Yeah, I was really excited about that spaceship,” Courtney giggles, nuzzling against her and squeezing her hands.

The warm, affectionate mood is killed a little by how somber Bianca seems once they’re in the car. Courtney looks over at her, reaching over to touch her cheek.

“You alright, babe?”

“Yeah. I’m just sending some shit to Asia.” Bianca looks up from her phone, biting her lip.

“Right.” Courtney’s hit by a wave of sadness, mostly for Bianca. As excited as she knows Bianca is for the baby, as much as she’s dreamed about motherhood, she knows that the bittersweet reality must never fully leave her mind. The dark cloud of her divorce hangs over her all the time, even when she’s not talking about it--even when she seems fine.

Courtney leans over the center console to brush her lips against Bianca’s temple.

After letting out a deep sigh, Bianca throws her arms around Courtney’s shoulders and buries her face into her neck.

***

Courtney stands outside the bathroom door, contemplating how best to approach Bianca this morning. She’s getting ready for what’s likely going to be a long, terrible day. Her first meeting with Jared and the lawyers, where they are supposed to (hopefully) hash out the main points of their divorce settlement. She knows that Bianca has been anxious and worried all week, even though she’s been putting on a brave face.

But last night, it seemed like it all really hit her hard. She laid awake for hours, letting Courtney hold her and talk to her about everything and nothing, just to remind her that she wasn’t alone. Courtney hadn’t drifted off until the first rays of dawn began to slant through the window, and she’s not positive whether Bianca slept at all.

Knowing that this was coming, Courtney’s been planning a surprise weekend getaway for them. Now, though, Courtney wonders if this kind of surprise after a long day with the lawyers will be too much. Maybe she didn’t think the plan through very well. She bites her lip and pushes the door open.

The counter is littered with hair appliances and makeup and assorted beauty products, what looks like everything Bianca owns spread out and opened. There’s not a hair out of place, and her face is fully beat. Compared to the relaxed, softer look she’s been moving towards since she moved in with Courtney, it’s almost jarring to see her this glammed up again.

“Hey,” Courtney says, moving toward her slowly, careful not to disturb any of the open powders and pots and bottles. She offers a smile, adding, “You look beautiful.”

Bianca can’t help but feel defensive. Of course, Courtney is giving her a simple compliment. The kind she gives her all the time, every day. But her insecurity immediately turns it into a judgement.

“I’m not trying to impress him,” she says. Her feelings for Jared, at this point, are crystal clear--she has no interest in getting back together with him, is sure she never will. But for some stupid reason, she can’t bear walking into that office looking different than she had when they were married. It feels, in an unjustifiable way, like that would be admitting something to him; it feels like that would make her even more vulnerable than she already is. “I know it’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Courtney replies. She can see the anxiety on Bianca’s face, her tense muscles, the little line where her brow furrows. Her heart aches for how scared Bianca must be feeling. She reaches out and gently touches Bianca’s sleeve. “And you don’t have to justify anything to me. Do whatever you need to prepare.”

Bianca puts down her mascara and sighs, closes her eyes. She feels anything but prepared. What in the world made her think that a little makeup and a curling iron would fix that? Courtney takes her hands.

“Hey...you can do this.”

Bianca looks up, her blue eyes cloudy with pain. She hopes it’s true, but a nagging voice in the back of her head is saying the opposite.

“I just...wish it was over.”

“I know.” Courtney tucks a lock of hair back, gently running a thumb against the shell of Bianca’s ear as she does so. “But hey...later today, it will be. And as soon as you’re done, you’re gonna come back home, and then I can tell you about your surprise.”

“Did I ever tell you that I hate surprises?” Bianca says, biting back a smile.

“You have. But you’re gonna like this one.” Courtney winds her arms tighter around Bianca’s neck. “I promise. And if you don’t...then, we can do it another time.”

“Yeah? So it’s something to do?” Bianca chases Courtney’s lips with her own, pressing her against the counter.

“You’re gonna ruin your lipstick…” Courtney slyly evades both the question and the kiss, teasing her.

“Worth it,” Bianca murmurs, finally capturing Courtney’s lips in a sweet, soft kiss.

***

Asia is true to her word. When Bianca arrives, they spend the morning together, going over the game plan and wish list. After a short lunch, most of which remains untouched, Asia escorts her into a conference room and waits with her, by her side, until Jared and his attorney show up.  

Bianca keeps her eyes down, trained on the blank legal pad in front of her. She can’t look at him. Even knowing he’s there turns her stomach. She does glance at his lawyer a few times. A petite Asian woman with dark eyes and glossy hair. He’s smart to have hired a woman. She’s not sure why it surprises her.

When the arbitrator arrives, she immediately gets down to business. The attorneys spend a few minutes discussing the big ticket items - their condo, the joint retirement account. Bianca is actually relieved that there’s a pre-nup, because it seems like it’s going to make everything go faster. She allows herself, for the briefest moment, to imagine that this might happen quickly.

Before they drill down into the details, Asia hands a paper across the table. It’s a disclosure statement, short and to the point, along with a copy of her last blood test. The most recent sonogram. The arbitrator looks it over, nods, and hands a copy to Jared’s attorney.

Bianca can sense Jared’s energy when his lawyer shows him. She hears his hands slam against the table, hears his lawyer do her best to quickly calm him down, get him to hush.

Her eyes are downcast, blurry with tears that begin to drip slowly down her nose, splashing on the legal pad. Asia puts a hand on her back.

“Do you need a break?” Asia whispers, and Bianca nods vigorously.

***

The meeting seems to disintegrate quickly once Bianca leaves the room, which doesn’t surprise her at all. She knew full well that this news was going to be a wrench in the plan. That Jared’s limited time of playing nice would be over.

Asia’s assistant brings her a glass of water, which she attempts to drink slowly, reminding herself to breathe every few seconds. She flexes her fingers and toes whenever they start to tingle, brings her focus back to the physical.

When Asia enters her office to give the update, she’s prepared. Jared is unwilling to negotiate any further. His lawyer quarantined him alone in another room to have his tantrum and requested to schedule a follow-up meeting in a few weeks. No financial agreements will happen until custody is worked out. They knew this would most likely be the case, so now it’s a waiting game until they see what Jared asks for.

Bianca nods.

“Are they still here?”

“They’re packing up now,” Asia tells her. “You’re welcome to stay here until you feel ready.”

“Thanks.”

Though all Bianca really wants is to go home, she takes her time, texting Courtney for a bit while she calms down. She doesn’t want to risk running into him in the lobby or at valet parking. She has a sick feeling when it’s time to go down to her car, and though she feels a bit silly, asks Asia if someone can walk her down.

Once she’s safely in her car, she breathes a sigh of relief. Soon she’ll be home; it’ll be over for the day. She’s even finding herself improbably excited for whatever surprise Courtney’s been planning all week. She takes a deep breath and pulls out.

Her relief is short-lived. At the parking gate, she rolls down her window to slide in her ticket, when Jared races up to the car like a bat out of hell, before she even knows what’s happening. He somehow manages to reach in, yanking the door open before she has a chance to react.

She has no idea what he’s screaming. All her brain can comprehend is the rage, the fury in his eyes as he rants at her, accuses her of all kinds of things. She knows she’s yelling back, telling him to stop, trying to pull her door closed, but he’s overpowering her, forcing her to listen to his tirade. It’s a complete out of body experience.

It must have been a hell of a commotion. Because the next thing Bianca knows, she’s somehow sitting on a bench by the elevators, head between her legs, as Asia’s heels come clicking towards her in a hurry.

“Bianca! Shit…” Asia sits beside her, places a hand on her back. “I’m so sorry. You’re supposed to be safe here.”

Bianca lifts her head. Her cheeks are wet with tears she doesn’t remember, and she scrubs at them with the sleeve of her jacket.  

“We’re gonna get statements from the guys down here, okay? I should be able to fast-track a restraining order.”

“Alright,” Bianca says, mind starting to spin. How are they supposed to negotiate a divorce under these conditions? What’s gonna happen to her baby?

“I don’t want you to drive right now. Is there someone we can call to pick you up?”

Bianca nods. Courtney’s waiting for her - probably expecting her to walk in the door at any moment. She pulls out her phone and goes to her recent calls with shaky fingers, then turns to Asia, grasping her sleeve.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Okay.” Asia takes the phone from her, glancing down at the screen. “I can handle it. Courtney? Is that your girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” Bianca closes her eyes, feeling useless and dumb, the way she always does when words fail her.

“I’ll fill her in, and then we can go upstairs to wait,” Asia tells her.

“Thanks,” is all Bianca can manage. She lowers her head again, praying for it all to be over quickly.

***

Last week, while filming a very awkward sex scene, Courtney let it slip to one of her favorite costars how stressed Bianca has been, and how she wished she could give her a break. He generously offered his house in Santa Barbara for the weekend, and Courtney figured that it would be the perfect way for Bianca to decompress after her meeting with the lawyers.

But all day, she’s been anxious. She was anxious while she packed their bags and loaded up the car, waiting to hear from Bianca. And she was anxious when Sasha arrived to pick up the puppies. So much that her friend immediately saw it and suggested that they have a cup of herbal tea while they wait for Bianca to finish.

Even after she gets the text that Bianca is on her way home, something gnaws at her stomach. She supposes that until she sees Bianca in person and knows that she’s truly okay, she won’t be able to feel better.

“Do you want me to wait with you until she gets home?” Sasha asks, a hand covering hers.

“Do you mind?” Courtney says, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Not at all.”

Courtney feels a little stupid and overly dramatic, but she’s grateful that Sasha is so perceptive. They chat about her students this term, and an art show she’s putting together, and when Courtney’s phone rings, she’s able to answer cheerfully.

“Hey baby, what’s up?”

“Hi, Courtney? This is Asia. Bianca’s attorney.”

Courtney feels her blood turning to ice, fear rushing through her.

“What’s wrong? Is she okay?!”

“She’ll be fine, but--Jared accosted her in the parking lot. She’s a bit shaken and I don’t think she should drive.”

“Oh, god.”

“Do you think you can come, and-”

“Of course!” Courtney exclaims. “Of course, I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Can you text me the address? I’m sorry, I just don’t have-”

“Absolutely, I’ll do that right now.”

“Thank you.” Courtney looks up at Sasha, panicked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll drive you.” Sasha’s already on her feet, placing the mugs into the sink and rinsing them. She grabs her keys and ushers the dogs into the carrier.

***

All Bianca feels is numb as she waits, fingers digging into the throw pillow in her lap. She has no idea how much time has passed when Courtney appears in the doorway, then flies straight to her.

Feeling Courtney’s arms around her, finally, unleashes something. She begins to cry, an unwelcome avalanche of tears that makes her hate herself even more.

“Baby…” Courtney crawls into her lap, stroking her hair and rocking her.

It feels like ages until she finds her voice again, choking out, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong!” Courtney holds her tighter, cheek pressed to the top of her head. Her heart hammers in her chest, terrified of what Jared might do next, but knowing that her fears are nothing compared to what Bianca must be feeling.

“I’m just...sorry. I know you’ve been planning something, and I-”

“Oh jesus, Bianca, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re okay.” Courtney cradles her face and looks at her, eyes bright, brow furrowed in concern. “It was just a little weekend getaway thing, you know? We can do it another time.”

“Actually,” Asia interrupts, then looks a little chagrined when they turn to her. “Sorry for eavesdropping, I just wanted to tell you that it might be a good idea. For you to go out of town for a couple of days. I don’t want to freak you out, but...at least until the protective order is in place.”

“When will that be?” Bianca asks tiredly.

“Monday morning,” Asia says. “I promise. We have everything we need.”

Bianca nods.

“Well...if that’s what you want, we could go,” Courtney says, smoothing down her hair. “I have all our bags packed and in the car downstairs.

“What about the dogs?”

“They’re downstairs too. With Sasha. She drove me here because she was gonna watch them this weekend. Is that okay?”

Bianca nods, then asks quietly, “Can I see them first?”

“Of course!” Courtney leans forward to kiss the tears slipping down her cheeks. “Whatever you need.”

They sit together for a few more minutes, until Bianca feels composed again--as much as she can, considering the circumstances. Courtney slides off her lap and offers a hand, helping her to her feet.

The leave hand in hand, fingers laced together, Bianca gripping Courtney tightly to keep herself grounded. As they wait for the elevators, she manages to give Courtney a small, grateful smile.

#rpdr fanfiction #bianca del rio #courtney act #bitney #asia o'hara #sasha velour #oc #lesbian au #angst #fluff #undone #stephanie #veronica #tw emotional abuse and PTSD #tw physical intimidation #tw gaslighting

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Aftermath: Luminous

After the events in Japan, the team is left to pick up the pieces. In this prompt, each character represents the stages of grief.

Denial: Anjou

Anger: Johann

Bargaining: Caesar

Depression: Mingfei Lu (Luminous)

@maerrybom Thanks for Collaborating on this one shot! :D

If you would like to collab, just read the chapter below and message me!

Read the chapter this one shot is based on

Mingfei Lu remembered how many hours he spent being entertained by Starcraft. He dominated the leaderboards, overwhelming his enemies so easily that he occasionally handicapped himself by playing on a slower connection and with cumbersome hardware. At times, he gave his rivals a head start, just to see if he could still win. It didn’t matter why it was fun, but there was a thrill that came from a close match that he craved and he would go to great lengths to find it.

Now, however, he stared at the screen after losing 15 out of 18 matches that night, feeling a completely different kind of thrill. He realized he didn’t care anymore. Win or lose, nothing in this game actually changed anything about what was happening in his life.

The journey to get this point was nothing short of a firestorm of emotions so this deadening was a welcome respite. 

Johann had hit him so hard, he couldn’t stand up straight until he got back to the submarine to return to the surface before the bomb went off. Caesar had to keep them separated. He pinned Mingfei’s face against the cold metal hull so Johann could steer. He didn’t bother trying to talk any sense into him.

That deep well of helpless anger summoned Ming Z. Lu, the voice in his head, offering an exchange. He knew from experience that if he wanted to, he could end both their lives right then and there, just as he would have done during the Day of Liberty had the weapons he used not been fake. He could be the top student at the school. He could be Nono’s fiancee. All for a quarter of his lifespan.

The only thing that stopped him was knowing that none of that would bring her back. The no-named girl who called him Lu-Senpai, who stayed brave and optimistic down to the end, was gone forever. He’d just be down two more friends and facing a shorter, more miserable life.

He’d stayed at the back of the plane, not talking to anyone. He didn’t show up for the debriefing. Fingel tried to comfort him, to talk to him, but he shut him out, putting on the headphones and jumping on Starcraft, the one thing he always returned to when he needed a break from the world.

Now he looked at his tanking leaderboard position with a stunned sense of wonder at how much he didn’t care, like discovering a newfound superpower. He could just not give a damn --- a brave invulnerability. He’d always wanted to feel cool and detached, but he’d never been able to achieve it until now. Those feelings that kept him weak and wishing he was better were all gone. The pain was gone.

At some point, Fingel had asked if he was going to be alright. He could honestly say yes. He told him not to worry about him. His roommate seemed surprised at this but decided to leave him alone. Lu smiled.

Unfortunately, as he lost match after match, the feeling of exhilaration that came with not caring wore off until he was just bored. He was clicking on the “Next Match” button out of muscle memory instead of a desire to play. He found himself staring blankly at the screen, waiting for something to happen to make him feel anything, but there was nothing forthcoming. He couldn’t think of anything else to do either.

It was this soul-sucking monotony that made him look up at the knock on the door. Who would be visiting this late at night? 

He checked his phone.  It was nine in the morning. 

He stood up, blinking his dry, irritated eyes. His stomach still hurt from where Johann had hit him. He ran his hand through his hair, straightened his rumpled clothing, and peered through the peephole.

Oh. Thalia. No doubt here to try to make him feel like the scum of the Earth again. 

Well, jokes on her.

“Go away. I’m busy.” The boy rolled his eyes once he saw the red-head, ready to return back to his depressing, alienated ‘corner’ he made himself.

“Well, I’m not leaving.” Thalia responded behind the door, a slight tone of irritation in her voice, “Fingel sent me to bring you food and I’m here to deliver it.”

Damn it Fingel. Of all people you chose, it had to be her? You practically just gave her a free ticket to make my life even more miserable than it already was at the start. Why don’t you just invite Nono into the mix, huh? He aggressively scratched at his head in frustration and glared at the door.

“Then leave it by the door and go.”

Lu didn’t hear her respond but heard a thud by the ground, suggesting that she did what he said with no complaints. That’s a shocker. Knowing Thalia, she would’ve wrecked the door open and tried to punch him in the face for ‘defying’ her, yet she did nothing. Finally, she’s gotten the hint. He plopped face down onto his untidy bed, chaining himself down with his measly thoughts as they bickered at how pathetic he’s being. He let them do as they wish--it doesn’t matter anymore.

An endless moment of silence has passed as Lu then rolled over on his back to look at the clock that was hung across his bed. It was almost noon. He didn’t realise that he fell asleep out of exhaustion. He then placed his hand over his abdomen, wincing at the pain and heard his stomach grumble in hunger. His eyes wandered across the state of his room, looking at the crushed soda cans and half-eaten bag of chips laying across the floor with a forlorn expression. Oh right, Fingel got him food. 

Grumbling under his breath, Lu stood up from his band and scrambled over to open his door. But much to his surprise, Thalia was sitting down, leaning against the doorway and had her back facing him. He gaped at the girl and was instantly speechless while Thalia began to stretch her arms over her head, seeming to have woken up from the sudden movement and coldness she felt.

“T-Thalia?” Lu stared at the top of the girl’s head, “What--? What are you doing?”

A stampede of questions trampled over his brain as a hurricane of thoughts came storming in. Why was she here all this time? Was she waiting for him to open the door? Why?

Thalia stood up, turning around to glare at him at first until her face morphed into a neutral expression. “I don’t take orders from anyone.”

“You--! I told you to--What?” He was ready to yell at her face, but she abruptly ducked under his arm and slipped into the apartment before he could stop her. She dropped the bags of food on the floor.

Lu remained speechless, watching her with a bewildered look on his tired-stricken face as she instantly started to clean up the mess he made. Thalia wasn’t looking at him. She was too preoccupied picking up the trash with one hand and holding his trash can with the other, muttering incoherent words under her breath.

“Why are you doing this?”

As Lu questioned her, Thalia stopped what she was doing and faced him with a firm expression. The red-head then strolled towards him with the trash can still in her hold before shoving it to his arms, forcing him to hold onto it instinctively.

She crossed her arms, “This is how you’re acting right now. Get a grip loser.”

All of a sudden, he felt a burst of emotions swallowing his chest after feeling nothing for so long. He angrily threw the trash can away, ruining his floor even further and fiercely glared at Thalia.

“Look,” Lu began, “I don’t need a reminder of how pitiful I am. Someone like you will never understand how I feel. You’re just a waste of my time. Get out!”

But Thalia made no move to walk away, staring up at him in painful silence. He was huffing in fury, gritting his teeth and clenched his fists out of frustration. He was frustrated at her, at himself--at everything. But then, a look of anguish appeared in her eyes for a second before it disappeared. This caused Luminous to stare at the red-head in stupor, a suffocating baggage of regret filling up his lungs. He then turned around away from her, pinching at his temple as he silently cursed at himself for losing his composure. Even though dealing with Thalia, who was agonisingly crucifying at times, she didn’t deserve to be yelled at like that. Thalia was still a freshman he needed to take care of.

“It’s fine. You’re not the first.” This vague statement made him feel even worse. Yet, he felt curiosity whisper at his ear about what she might mean. He turned back around to face her once again as Thalia watched him with a look he couldn’t decipher.

Flipping her red locks back, Thalia spoke again. “Tell me so I can understand better.”

Lu was starting to feel the adrenaline escape, finding no energy to try and butt heads with the girl again. Sighing for the umpteenth time, he sat down on his bed and patted the space next to him. Thalia calmly sat next to him and stared at the wall across them, staying quiet.

 He knew he wasn’t ready to come out of his shell, but for some reason, Thalia’s presence made him feel a certain way that wasn’t irritation or anger. It made him start talking, explaining everything that happened recently. He spoke about the mission, how he failed to save the girl and who she was, and admitted his feelings. Everything was beginning to uncontrollably spill itself in front of him.

Once he was done and let the red-head register his words, Thalia commented: “I don’t think I would’ve gotten along with her.”

In Thalia’s eyes, the girl was weak. She was destined for an inevitable fate from the start. 

"Well… she's dead now so…" He shrugged, staring at the carpet.  "I guess it doesn't matter."

It was a mistake thinking he'd get any sympathy out of Thalia. He wondered why she hung around at all. "You know, if I annoy you, the door's over there. You're just supposed to bring food, not listen to me bore you with my dead friends."

"It's pretty obvious you don't like me. I don't know why you bothered even doing this much…" He stood up and walked out of the room.

Of course Thalia wouldn't like her. She wasn't jaded by life. She had a great life before Cassell with a great future ahead of her. Coming to Cassell was her nightmare.

Her last words were just too much. She knew she was going to die. She told him he was there in the end and that was all that mattered to her.

He still remembered how concerned she was, not about prolonging her own life, but avoiding hurting him. Despite everything, she didn't express an ounce of regret. She just accepted her fate.

But Lu couldn't accept it.  He could have saved her. It just would have cost him another chunk of life. For her, he would have given it gladly. She'd done far more than him in a shorter time anyway.

But not even Ming Z. Lu could bring back the dead. He leaned against the kitchen counter feeling that helplessness again. Let Thalia look down on him. He didn't care.

Thalia watched him leave the room and made no effort to stop him. He was far into his own world and she couldn’t pull him out of it when he kept pushing everyone away. She was no exception. She knew he misunderstood what she said, but she couldn’t find a way to make him understand.

Yes, she wouldn’t have liked the girl; not because of who she was but who she reminded her of. The girl reminded her of her previous self way too much. 

She heard the door shut. Lu had left her alone in the apartment.

The red-head looked around his room and decided to quickly clean everything up before Lu returned. She was not the best with words nor was she the best person at all, so this was the least she could do. After the room was all nice and neat, Thalia quickly jotted down something onto a sticky note and attached it to the food she brought him before leaving the room.

--

“Thanks for the food by the way.” 

“What? What food?”

The sun was already setting when Lu decided to go back to his dorm, hoping that Thalia would be gone by then. He remembered to thank Fingel through text for the food that she delivered, but Fingel had no clue what he was talking about.

As he entered his room, a faint scent of vanilla and fresh linen reached his nose. The messy chaos of his room was transformed into an orderly paradise of peace and relaxation. He could actually see his floor free from all the rubbish he'd left lying around. Then, he strolled over to his untouched package of food. It was his favorite. He also saw the painkillers and a sticky note attached to the tray.

“Take care of yourself better. - Thalia.”

He was wrong about her in the end.

#Luminous #Thalia #Collab #Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing #Prompt

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Animorphs in Zombie Apocalypse AU?

• It’s been seven years since the end of the war.  Three years since the Animorphs — all six of them — stumbled off of the Rachel on its return, over two dozen ex-yeerk-hosts in tow.  It’s beginning to feel like this peace might last.

• Rachel’s in the middle of a business lunch when the call comes in.  Her line of fragrances (“Animal Essence by Rachel Berenson: Let out your wild side”) has performed pretty well this quarter.  But there are always marketing campaigns to manage and deals to sign, which is why she and her PR manager Linda are in a trendy Brooklyn café when the phone in her purse buzzes.

Jake tries to sound calm, as he tells her that they’re being called in.  Because it’s Jake, he almost succeeds.  No details yet, he says, just a behavior-altering pathogen.  Possibly extraterrestrial origin.

Around her, the room has gone cold and strange and far away.  How silly the delicate spread of quinoa and avocado on her plate appears now, how pointless the fan of business cards in her hand and manicure on her nails.

“My cousin,” she says, and then “family emergency,” and then “I have to go.”

•  Marco’s head lifts when the din of the crowd goes quiet ahead of him, scanning automatically for trouble.  Jordan Berenson is cutting through the crowd on the dance floor.  She’s utterly out of place in her full business suit amidst the night club’s flash and camp, her straight posture bizarre among the half-naked slouch of bodies that surrounds her.

“Hey there, G-woman!” Marco calls over the music.

“She’s a fed?” his security guard Rena asks sharply, glancing at the line of cocaine clearly visible on the nearest end table.

Marco waves Rena away.  “She’s family.”

He sees Jordan absorb the label with no small amount of surprise.  He’s not sure what the fuck else they’d count as: they’re not friends, but that doesn’t change the fact that they fought and cooked and lived and nearly died together during the war.

“I’m here on behalf of the NSA-CDC joint commission,” Jordan says, trying a small smile.

“And what’s Uncle Sam want with little old me?”  Even as Marco says it, he knows: he really really does not want to hear what Jordan is about to say.

•  Cassie rolls to her feet when the Army transport jeep approaches, heart already beating faster.  The hork-bajir preserve doesn’t get many human visitors, and the official ones never bring good news.  She glances over at Tobias – who was, like her, listening to Toby tell a surprisingly entertaining version of their war story to a group of youngsters – and sees him tense, feathers flaring.

Please, she thinks, don’t let it be the start of another “human” rights battle.  Which just goes to show that it’s been a while since the war, long enough that she thinks another spat over land grants is the worst thing that can happen to this community.

• «Prince Aximili.»  The aristh looks nervous enough to be about ready to trip over his own hooves.  «Sir, there’s a message for you.  It’s from Earth.»

Ax nods automatically, even knowing that the gesture won’t mean anything to his fellow andalites.  «Who on Earth?»

The aristh shuffles his back hooves, tail tucked close to his body.  «Just… Earth.  A human called the President of the United States.  She says she’s calling on behalf of the entire planet.»

A war-prince must always project calm and confidence, to reassure all warriors and civilians who might be watching.  Ax manages, only just barely, to remain still and inhale slowly.  To keep his voice level when he says, «Thank you.  I’ll take the call in my private quarters.»

• There are three of them in the cramped observation room.  Then four, then five, and finally six.  A unit, huddled together and barefoot and unable to speak.  They’re not the only ones here for the meeting, of course.  Other people await them in the next room: the Joint Chiefs, the U.N. representatives.  Collette and Timmy.  Peter.  Tom, Jordan, Walter and Michelle.  The president.

On the other side of the glass, Eva beats her hands against the wall.  A guttural moan gargles in the back of her throat.  She’s walking forward, not seeming to realize that she encounters a wall again and again.

The flesh has already rotted off her extremities, leaving bone and putrescent muscle exposed underneath the peeling curls of skin.

“We’ll find a cure,” Cassie says.  Even as she tries to breathe through a nightmare come to life, a flashback made present.  “We’ll find a way—”

“My mom is dead.”  Marco’s voice is as steady as the hands of a man sawing off his own leg.  “No heartbeat.  No brain activity.  No respiration, digestion, circulation.”

Tobias looks back into the room, then at Marco.  «But…»

“She’s an organ donor.”  Marco’s eyes are dry, but he sniffs hard to keep them that way.  “Wanted her body used for science, for humanity, when she couldn’t use it anymore.  She’s dead.  We’re respecting her wishes.”

Eva’s mouth gnashes at the air, teeth and jawbone exposed where her lips have already decayed.  Her fingertips leave streaks of gore on the plexiglas.

“We know it spreads by fluids,” Jake recites dully.  “That even a few drops can infect an entire water system.  We know that it kills the hosts within hours of infection, and then uses their bodies to try and reproduce itself.  We know it can be killed by fire, and by beheading the host, but so far that’s all we know.”

«How many humans have suffered its effects so far?» Ax asks.

“We don’t know,” Jake says.  “Lowest estimate’s a few thousand.”

“And the highest?” Cassie asks.

He turns to look at her.  The answer’s there on his face, in the way he can’t seem to stop himself from reaching out to take her hand.

• “How bad is it?” Ronnie asks Cassie that night.

She pulls him into her arms, desperate to sink into warmth and soft muscle and still-living flesh.  “Remember last time humanity got attacked by an alien pathogen?” she asks.  “Remember how that ended for the invading parasites?”

He has to know that she’s dodging the question.  But then he wasn’t in the room when the graph tracing the U.S. watersheds spread slowly from blue to red, the entire continent glowing sickly crimson within weeks.  The heading at the top said Conservative Estimate.  They never saw the non-conservative one.

• Please remain calm, the president’s broadcast says, and stay inside your homes.  Boil any water before drinking, she adds, even though they don’t think that that will do any good.  Better to give people something to do, some way to feel like there’s still hope.

• Rachel goes up against entire hordes.  She becomes elephant, alligator, grizzly and cheetah.  She perfects the necessary motions to grab and rip, to sever the spinal column in one bite or one slash.  She wades through firestorms as a salamander or rhinoceros, swoops in on kafit wings or surges upward on lerdethak tentacles to rip bodies to bits.  Sometimes the others join her.  They get infected a dozen, a hundred times, and each time they morph and survive.

• Which is where Tobias’s suggestion comes from.

«I say we arm the populace,» he says.

It’s the six of them, sitting around Marco’s kitchen table — one of his kitchen tables in one of his houses — after yet another bout of endless killing and very little progress.

“Meaning what?” Jake says.

“The civilian death toll’s already high enough, if you ask me,” Marco says.  “Seeing as how everyone and their aunt is out there with hunting rifles and modified dracon beams blowing their neighbors away.”

Cassie winces.  He’s not wrong.  The riots have cost more lives than the plague, according to the latest estimates.

«We’re safe,» Tobias points out.  «Or we can fix ourselves.  Because we’re morphers.  We have the cube… why not use it as widely as possible, on as many people as we can find?»

“That’d be illegal,” Jake says.

Rachel lets out a dull laugh.  Cassie can see her point.  They’re way past that by now.

“And when the vampires start morphing too?” Rachel asks.  “What then?”

“Don’t call them that,” Marco snaps.  “They’re dead bodies with parasites inside, not…”  He laughs, humorless. “Vampires, revenants, the undead, that’s all stuff you play for pretend on some television show.  It’s makeup and bad writing.”

“Yeah,” Rachel says, “just like aliens.  Just like shapeshifters.”

«I sincerely doubt that the infected would have the necessary mental abilities to sustain focused attention upon achieving an animal shape,» Ax says.  «Tobias’s proposal would indeed break several laws set by at least half a dozen species… and it may be the only way to save this planet.»

“How do we make sure the civilians are using the morph tech responsibly?” Jake asks.  Which shows that he’s already thinking about it.  Already halfway there.

• They make an announcement on the only remaining television channel.  They send out a broadcast on every frequency that emergency radios will pick up.  They go even more old-school, and pass out fliers.  Anyone who wants the morphing can come.  Can wait in line, sometimes for hours, to press their fingers against the box in Marco’s hand.  Acquiring DNA is their own problem.  So is the two-hour limit, for all of the warnings that Cassie repeats ad infinitum to the waiting crowds and the folks at home.

It’s inevitable, really, when the panic breaks out one day outside the elementary school where they’re recruiting.  No one can say for sure if the woman was actually infected, or if the man next to her just thought she was.

Eight people are trampled to death in the ensuing crush.  Nearly a hundred more are injured, too many to treat in a town that has already run short on dozens of essentials that must be shipped in from other parts of the country.  No one can say how many are infected, just that the Animorphs spend nearly a week clearing the undead out of the area around the elementary school before it’s finally safe to use again.

• The reports coming out of the densely-populated East Coast are shocking.  There was a battle between human and undead outside Yonkers, and now Yonkers is overrun.  All groundwater from the Chesapeake Bay watershed is now considered infected, take precautionary measures.  Florida has closed its borders, and is gunning down anyone who gets too close.  A riot over a shipment of bottled water took out eighteen square blocks in downtown Philadelphia, and took out the entire shipment of water as well.  The wealthiest residents of Boston and Manhattan are moving off-planet as fast as craft will take them, leaving the rest of the planet to die.

And then one day the reports… stop.

No CNN, no NPR, no MSNBC.  No U.S., not really, not anymore.

• “I’m going to go lie down,” Jake’s father says, after a long day in the lab.  And, “It’s just a headache, I’m sure.”

It’s the last thing he ever says.  Eight hours later, Tom becomes the one to shoot him in the head.

• When Rachel picks up the phone, Jordan says, “You know you’re my hero, right?”

Rachel rushes out of the house, phone up to her ear, desperate for a better signal.  “How… you…”  She draws a sharp breath.  “It’s been three months!”  Not just three months since she heard from her sister.  Three months since anyone that she knows of has succeeded in making a long-distance call.

“Sat phone,” Jordan says.  “Government-issue.  We’ve all been taking turns using it, in here.”

“Holy shit.”  Rachel pulls the gun off of her belt and, almost unthinkingly, puts a bullet between the eyes of the child who has been shuffling toward her on corpse-stiff limbs.  “How are you?  How’s DC?”

“Not great, actually.  INSCOM’s got me and a bunch of other essential personnel in a bunker.  Or they did, anyway.”  Jordan clears her throat.  “The perimeter’s been breached, and there are about twenty of us holed up in this room.  Maybe four—”  Her voice wavers, steadies.  “Four, five hundred hostiles outside, judging from the security cameras.”

“I’m—”  Rachel is running down the street, cataloguing morphs.  “I’m coming for you, just hang on.”

“Rachel.”  Jordan’s voice is terribly sad.  She’s three thousand miles away.  “Just listen, okay?”

Rachel sits on the ground.  Curls into herself.  Fetal position, a ball of helpless rage.

“We’re each taking one phone call, and it just seemed really important to me.”  Jordan takes a breath.  “To tell you that I love you.  That you’ve always been my hero.  Since… forever, really.  And that everything I am, everything I’ve done, is because of you.  So…”

There’s a noise in the background of the call.  One Rachel doesn’t want to identify.

“Tell Mom and Sarah I love them, yeah?” Jordan says.

Their mom’s been dead two weeks.  Sarah is MIA.  “I will,” Rachel says.  “I promise.  Jordan—”

“Time’s up, gotta go.”  There’s a click, and the line goes dead.

•  Ax lies so smoothly, so thoroughly, that he doesn’t know if he even remembers how to tell the truth.  The fight against the pathogen is going well, he tells the Andalite Navy.  Humanity is doing well.  There’s no need for alarm.  No need for drastic action.  Yes, he would like to stay here indefinitely, but only to do what he can to assist the clean-up efforts.

•  They morph every six hours, setting alarms to make sure that it happens.  There is no uninfected water, not anymore, which means they’re constantly exposed.  It can’t last forever.  One of these days, Tobias knows, one of them is going to go in their sleep.  And there’s nothing to be done to fend it off indefinitely.

•  The being who appears in Marco’s living room is human and raptor and andalite and most definitely none of the above.  (Ketran, Rachel will say later, and then silently shake her head when they ask her what the word means.)  They all still recognize the Ellimist when they see him.

“I came to you once with an offer,” the Ellimist says.  “Your lives, and your families’, in exchange for relocation to a different planet.  I can bring your families back.  Save them, and you.  A way to preserve the human species, a final desperate measure.”

“And all of a sudden it’s back on the table?” Marco demands.

The Ellimist nods, or maybe he’s just bowing his head in grief.

They look around at each other, needing no words to communicate their thoughts.

They were so young, the last time they had this offer, Rachel thinks now.  She was just a little girl, too caught up in worrying about being in love with a nothlit and disappointing her father to understand what was really at stake.  She missed it entirely, the reason Jake and Marco were the ones to hesitate and grieve.  They’d both lost loved ones to the yeerks already.  They’d known what was at stake, the way that the little girl she’d been at the time could not have known.

Now she understands.  Now, I can bring your families back isn’t abstract or principled.  It’s real down to her gut, down to her pores.  Now she understands, as do they all, just how much war can take.  They’re adults.  This time, their eyes are open.  Their decision is informed.

This time, Jake doesn’t hesitate when he speaks for them all.  “Go fuck yourself,” he says.  “It’s our planet, and we’ll fight for it to the very last man.”

#animorphs #animorphs au #au #body horror #gore #character death #long post #zombie au #canon compliant

[ceekbee]

Anger

I feel very bad for angry people, for I see them creating their own hells to live in, and they usually don't even realize it. I've seen few things in the world that deserve the kind of anger that we see on a regular basis; on the radio this morning, one of the disc jockeys was telling about taking her mother to a cancer treatment center. She parked the car close to the entrance to help her mother into the center, and as soon as she was out of the car, the person in the car behind her started laying on the horn. This person actually came up and hit the back of her car with his car-- not hard enough to do any damage, but hard enough to let them know he was angry.

I feel very sad for this man. He can't be happy with life if such a trivial thing can cause such rage in him. Inner peace? Forget it. He's probably so busy looking for excuses to be angry that he never notices the beauty of the world, the wonderful parts of life, the nice people who surround him every day. I've known people like him, and there's no convincing them that life is wonderful, because it can't be since people are such jerks. But people aren't jerks. They do jerk-like things on a regular basis--we all do--but that doesn't make us jerks.

The angry person reacts in anger and causes others to be angry, and a cycle begins. My hope is that I'm able to be a person who ends such a cycle, a person who reacts to anger with love and understanding, because the angry people need that more than anything else.

Reacting in anger is merely perpetuating these people's belief that their anger is justified, but reacting in love may get them to question whether or not their anger is justified, effective, and/or helpful to them.

We can't psychoanalyze everyone we meet. We can't say this person is angry because she's been neglected, or this one is angry because he's trying to compensate for feelings of inadequacy. We need to separate the anger from the person, the creation of God who stands before us and who deserves our love.

When I'm tempted to react angrily myself, I try to remember to ask myself this question: Am I contributing to the anger in the world, or am I contributing to the peace and love in the world? I need to contribute to the love--we all do. Love is the only power that can cause a permanent change.

Of course, we have to look at the other side of anger--the side that gets us to act when we see an injustice done to another person, the side that causes the feeling of righteous indignation that gets us moving and feeling for others. There is injustice in the world, and as Arthur Ponsoby points out below, if our lack of anger is a sign of indifference, then it's a big problem for us and for those people with whom we share the world.

But we still have to control this anger, as Aristotle points out below. Unchecked and misdirected anger is destructive, and if we're to be angry at all, we want that anger to be constructive, not destructive. Controlling our anger takes learning and practice, and we have to keep learning from our mistakes and the mistakes of others to learn how to use our anger effectively, and to know when to recognize anger that's justified, and anger that's a reflection, a symptom, of something else that's going wrong in our lives.

Anger destroys the angry person and all those around him or her. The

angry father can cause fear and terror among his children. The angry

wife and mother can manipulate with a force and subtlety that can be

felt for years. Open anger roars through human relations with a

destructive force--a firestorm. The hidden anger that burns and attacks

and manipulates can last for years. It destroys the underbrush; it twists

and poisons the ground growth. And so with us. The ferocious exterior

flame is uncontrollable except over a long period of work and time.

We must isolate our anger and allow it to burn itself out.

Edward J. Lavin

quotations - contents - welcome page - obstacles

the people behind the words - our current e-zine - articles and excerpts

Daily Meditations, Year One - Year Two - Year Three - Year Four

Sign up for your free daily spiritual or general quotation ~ ~ Sign up for your free daily meditation

Eugene Carman

Rhodes' slave! Selling shoes and gingham,

Flour and bacon, overalls, clothing, all day long

For fourteen hours a day for three hundred and thirteen days

for more than twenty years.

Saying "Yes'm" and "Yes, sir" and "Thank you"

A thousand times a day, and all for fifty dollars a month.

Living in this stinking room in the rattle-trap "Commercial."

And compelled to go to Sunday School, and to listen

To the Rev. Abner Peet one hundred and four times a year

For more than an hour at a time,

Because Thomas Rhodes ran the church

As well as the store and the bank.

So while I was tying my neck-tie that morning

I suddenly saw myself in the glass:

My hair all gray, my face like a sodden pie.

So I cursed and cursed: You damned old thing!

You cowardly dog! You rotten pauper!

You Rhodes' slave! Till Roger Baughman

Thought I was having a fight with someone,

And looked through the transom just in time

To see me fall on the floor in a heap

From a broken vein in my head.

Edgar Lee Masters

from Spoon River Anthology

How could I feel so miserable in the midst of such splendor? The question flashed

through me all at once, not waiting for words to express it. The answer came

more slowly: No one makes you angry. Anger, like love, is something you choose.

Stunned, I sat down in the middle of the field I'd been walking through.

I knew I needed to look within myself, let go of my anger and have a quiet talk with God.

Susan L. Taylor

No person can think clearly when his or her fists are clenched.

George Jean Nathan

Anger is a symptom, a way of cloaking and expressing feelings too awful

to experience directly--hurt, bitterness, grief and, most of all, fear.

Joan Rivers

Anger is not only inevitable, it is necessary. Its absence

means indifference, the most disastrous of all human failings.

Arthur Ponsoby

As long as anger lives, it continues to be the fruitful parent of

many unhappy children.

St. John Climacus

They are fools who cannot be angry;

but they are wise people who will not.

Proverb

anger 2

Anger in its time and place,

May assume a kind of grace.

It must have some reason in it,

And not last beyond a minute.

If to further lengths it go,

It does into malice grow.

'Tis the difference we can see

'Twixt the serpent and the bee.

If the latter you provoke,

It inflicts a hasty stroke,

Put you to some little pain,

But it never stings again.

Close in tufted bush or brake

Lurks the poison-swelled snake

Nursing up his cherished wrath;

In the purlieus* of his path,

In the cold, or in the warm,

Mean him good, or mean him harm,

Wheresoever fate may bring you

The vile snake will always sting you.

Charles and Mary Lamb

*place where one goes often

Anger makes you smaller, while forgiveness

forces you to grow beyond what you were.

Cherie Carter-Scott

Ruby stepped toward him. "Edward," she said softly. It was

the first time she had called him by name. "Learn this from me.

Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from inside. We think that

hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But

hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves.

"Forgive, Edward. Forgive. Do you remember the lightness

you felt when you first arrived in heaven?"

Eddie did. Where is my pain?

"That's because no one is born with anger. And when we die,

the soul is freed of it. But now, here, in order to move on, you must

understand why you felt what you did, and why you no longer need to feel it."

She touched his hand.

"You need to forgive your father."

Mitch Albom

The Five People You Meet in Heaven

It is wise to direct your anger towards problems--not people;

to focus your energies on answers--not excuses.

William Arthur Ward

If you get angry easily, it may be because the seed of anger in

you has been watered frequently over many years, and unfortunately

you have allowed it or even encouraged it to be watered.

Thich Nhat Hanh

- From Living Life Fully

[thewasp1995]

Year 1 Part 5- A Secret Revealed

Over the course of the following week, Bill was true to his word as he and David continually met twice a day to review more spells and to practice for the inevitable rematch. They’d usually start at the library followed by an hour long training session in the afternoon. Matching up their schedules proved to be a tad tricky, but in the end, they managed to keep to their regular meetups.

Under Bill’s tutelage, David knew he was rapidly improving. He was never able to beat him in a one on one, being that the eldest Weasley was much further along in his magical education, but he had managed to make it interesting a few times to the delight of the lanky thirteen year old. Far from being threatened, Bill was quite happy to see David come along so quickly. As such, they had moved on from the three original curses to various other jinxes which is what they were currently glossing over with the help of Rowan, who was more than happy to try and impress the illustrious older student.

“Check out this one, Dave. A curse that can make your opponent’s teeth grow as long as ten feet. Wonder what Merula would look like with that.”

“A rabid beaver I imagine,” he replied while the other two boys chuckled.

“SHHH!!!” came the harsh tone of Madam Pince, a middle aged witch who had a rather intense reputation for the upkeep and organization of the Hogwarts Library. Anything she deemed to loud or harmful to the books would bring out an almost hawk like instinct for rooting it out, indeed that instinct seemed to make her physical appearance, which was also rather bird like.

“Sorry, Madam Pince,” Rowan apologized in a whisper as she gave them a stern look. 

“Anyway, I feel like you’ve been at this for about a week. When are you going to face her?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I can’t exactly seek her out or else it’s going to look like I was the one who started it.”

“David’s being smart about this,” Bill concurred. “We Gryffindors often have a reputation of charging into battle head on, but it would be unwise to do so in this instance. 

Slytherins are tricky by nature. Anything you do, they’ll try to pin on you, especially since Snape will always take their side.”

“Fair enough,” Rowan agreed. “Besides, it always gives us more time for looking up new spells. Have you heard of the Jelly-Legs jinx? It sounds quite useful.”

“That’s always been popular one around here,” Bill nodded. “Mostly used for a one time practical joke but it has its uses in dueling too.”

Rowan, emboldened by the older student’s approval continued to prattle on about various theories and spellwork and David decided to tune it out momentarily as he continued to read the page of the latest book on defensive magic he had picked out. His best friend’s hero worship was already becoming a bit much and if the Indian preteen wanted to show off to Bill, all the more power to him.

He was just about finished with reading a spell that gave one the ability to defend oneself against most forms of dark magic (far too advanced but interesting nonetheless) when he heard a quiet voice enter his mind.

David….David Grant

Its volume raised ever so slightly.

David….find the vaults…it’s the only way

“What?”

His spoken aloud comment caught the attention of his other two friends.

“What, what?”

“Someone just said my name.”

Rowan and Bill looked at each other, confused.

“I didn’t say your name.”

“Me neither.”

David shook his head. For a split second, he could have sworn he heard Jacob talking to him…

“Never mind,” he said, dismissing the idea altogether. “Must have been my imagination.”

“SHHHHH!!!!!” came the return of Madam Pince’s hawk like presence over their table.

That got them to focus once more on the books that lay in front of them, but David’s mind was officially elsewhere. Was that really his brother speaking to him, or was he undergoing some kind of hallucination? And what was the about the cursed vaults? He knew that’s what his brother had been after but to entertain the idea they were real was absurd.

Right?

With great effort, David pushed the distractions out of his head. He had bigger fish to fry. He wasn’t going to get caught up in the same obsession as his brother.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As it turned out, it didn’t take long for David to engage Merula once more. Bill had already declared him more than ready for his rematch, cautioning him all the same not to get carried away and let the Slytherin get into his head. You could only read and drill the same spells and techniques so many times before the actual battle. Though only a first year, David felt he had learned more than enough to take on a fellow first year, no matter how nasty and fearsome her reputation. He wanted to face her again and more importantly, put a stop into her reign of terror.

The opportunity came fifteen minutes after Transfiguration class one Monday afternoon. Walking towards the down the steps towards the Herbology greenhouse, a random Ravenclaw boy suddenly stopped them.

“You guys gotta get down to the courtyard. Something big is about to go down.”

As he ran off, David and Rowan looked at each other and shrugged before realizing something was off.

“Wait a minute, where’s Ben?”

“Professor McGonagall let him out early, remember? He had a stomachache from lunch.”

The three usually walked from class to class, occasionally joined by Charlie or some of the other Gryffindors. If Ben wasn’t already on his way to Herbology, it could only mean one thing.

“You don’t think…” Rowan asked him.

“We’d better check it out just in case.”

Unfortunately, their worst fears turned out to be true. As they ran down into the 

courtyard, they witnessed a huge crowd of first years surrounding what looked like Ben Copper and of course…

“Merula,” David snarled as he made his way through the crowd. “Wait here, Rowan.”

He tapped a random blonde Hufflepuff on the shoulder as he drew closer to the front.

“What’s going on?”

“Merula’s cornered Ben Copper,” she explained. “He keeps trying to walk away but she won’t let him.”

Taking a deep breath, David continued to push forward, finally being able to witness for himself what was going on and what he saw only served to push his temper even higher. Merula had her wand trained on Ben, who looked as if he were one stage away from wetting himself. This had been one instance where he was unable to avoid her.

“You’re an embarrassment to everyone here,” she taunted him, her wand remaining squarely aimed at his head. “I bet you barely have enough magic to light your wand.”

“Please,” Ben practically begged. “Just leave me alone. I haven’t done anything to you.”

“Your presence alone is enough to offend me,” Merula spat. “Mudbloods like you shouldn’t even be allowed at Hogwarts. It’s disgusting.”

David had seen enough. At that moment, his fury broke. He didn’t care who saw or who started what, he wasn’t going to stand by and watch this horrid injustice for a second longer.

“You leave him alone,” he said quietly, but his tone indicated a rage that was extremely rare to witness. Only his family had ever seen him that angry, but everyone knew to stand clear when his voice became deathly quiet and his pupils dilated.

“You leave him alone right now,” he continued. “Or else.”

“Or else, what?” Merula laughed, blissfully unaware of the firestorm she had awoken. 

“You never learn, do you Grant?”

“I’ve learned plenty. And I’m giving you three seconds to get out of here before I really get pissed off.”

Those arrogant violent eyes gave every cue she wasn’t going to back down.

“Make me.”

For a split second, neither one of them said or did anything as the tension in the air reached a boiling point, the crowd absolutely fixated on the two eleven-year olds set to do battle. David remained focused on his opponent, his wand up his sleeve, ready for the inevitable fight. Whatever came next, he would be prepared.

Without warning, it was Merula who struck first.

‘Flipendo!’

Her shot missed, however, as David side stepped the jinx and fired one of his own, which also barely missed.

“A trip jinx?” she taunted. “You’ll have to do better than that!”

David didn’t reply, as he pressed forward with his attack, using his inner rage as a drive, setting off a series of curses and hexes that sent her reeling back. He could see he had the advantage. Merula wasn’t used to someone being as aggressive as she was, and her lack of poise was showing. All the while, the crowd began to shout encouragement, almost entirely to him. Even the other Slytherins seemed relatively neutral in deciding who they wanted to emerge victorious.

Finally, David broke through and managed to hit Merula’s knee with a leg locker curse, sending her toppling over. The crowd cheered but the fight wasn’t over yet. In pressing his attack, he had left himself exposed to a sneak attack and the Slytherin girl was not one to fight fair. Snarling with anger, she sent one more surprise spell towards him from the ground. David, having only a split second to react, relied on instinct, rolling to his left and bringing his own wand to bear.

‘Expelliarmus!’

A jet of red light found it’s mark, as the witch’s wand flew into the air and hit the ground 

with the sound of clanking wood echoing throughout the courtyard. After a few more seconds, the crowd erupted in cheers.

“It’s over, Merula,” David declared, still keeping his wand fixed on his opponent. “Now yield.”

“This isn’t fair!” she said, her composure quickly slipping. “You can’t be better than me. No one’s better than me!”

“From my vantage point, I’d say you’re no better than anyone,” came the quiet, angry reply. “You lost Merula. Now apologize to Ben and stop your endless bullying.”

The effects of the leg locker curse now worn off, Merula stood up, all semblance of confidence completely eradicated as she practically screamed.

“Apologize?! I’ll never apologize to mudbloods or anyone else! Do you know who I am?! I’m Merula Snyde! Fourth Generation Slytherin, the greatest witch at Hogwarts! I do what I want whenever I want, I run this school! I-”

“Are in very big trouble, Miss Snyde,” interrupted a cold voice.

In the midst of her tirade, barely anyone had noticed the arrival of Professors McGonagall and Snape, both of whom looked quite cross. By the time they did, it was too late.

“P-Professor McGonagall…”

“Your use of that foul epithet will cost you dearly,” the head of Gryffindor admonished her with steel in her unwavering tone. “Thirty points from Slytherin.”

“Ah, but I suspect this dust up was not entirely her fault,” Snape interjected in his usual dangerously, silky timbre. “And it comes to no surprise that Grant is once again involved in the breaking of school rules.”

Professor McGonagall, though quite upset with Merula did not spare David the same gaze.

“Is this true, Mr. Grant? Were you and Miss Snyde involved in a duel?”

There was no point in lying. And frankly, David didn’t want to lie.

“Yes, Professor.”

“You know that Hogwarts has a strict policy against unauthorized dueling. I cannot let this pass. Thirty points from Gryffindor.”

“But Professor, I didn’t start this,” he protested. “I was only trying to prevent Merula from bullying Ben-”

“Silence,” Snape cut him off. “Whatever pathetic attempts at lying…”

“Severus,” McGonagall interrupted. Evidently, she was willing to hear more of the 

context. “Which of you threw the first spell?”

“Merula!” David quickly answered before she could object.

“Liar, he struck me first!” Merula whined.

“Don’t listen to her, Professor,” Rowan interjected. “We saw the whole thing. David was protecting Ben before Merula struck first.”

The crowd murmured in agreement. Indeed, no one seemed willing to try and lie for the Slytherin girl, who looked positively humbled.

“Very well,” she said. “Professor Snape and I will both take this into account. I shall inform the Headmaster of what has happened today and then send for you both in my office when a decision has been made. In the meantime, do freshen up with some proper robes. The rest of you, back to class.”

She and Snape gave each other sharp looks before both vacating the scene and the crowd began to disperse.

“Well that could have gone better,” David muttered as he pocketed his wand and gathered his books off the ground.

“Are you kidding?” Rowan said incredulously. “Don’t be a prat, Dave that was amazing. 

You stood up to Merula again. And not only that, you beat her in a duel!”

“I can’t thank you enough,” Ben said, coming up to him now. “I don’t know what I would have done without you there.”

“It’s what any decent person would have done,” David nodded as he placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I just hope I’m still here by day’s end. Snape is going to do his best to get me expelled.”

“Professor McGonagall believed you though,” Ben offered hopefully. “No way she’ll let that happen.”

“Besides, you saw her face when Merula used that word. She was furious.”

David tried to take comfort in his friends’ words. He took immense satisfaction in taking Merula down a peg, but it would be all for naught if he was sent packing back to two extremely disappointed parents. The thought of their second son being expelled would be too much to bear.

“Thanks, mate. I guess I’ll just have to pray Dumbledore sees it the same way.”

Indeed, it was all they could do. And despite David’s triumph, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy as to how angry he had become when dueling Merula. Was it indicative of something lurking that had been unaddressed?

Either way, it was not a pleasant thought.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It didn’t take long for David to receive the owl requesting his presence in Professor McGonagall’s office and only a couple of hours after his duel with Merula, he found himself on the way down to the Transfiguration classroom.

However, a surprise awaited as he rounded the corner towards his destination. He suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder followed by a “Hey.”

Turning around, he saw that it was the same blonde Hufflepuff he had spoken to in the crowd earlier, only now he had the full opportunity to see who it was.

Penny Haywood, a very popular, and very pretty first year who had a knack for knowing every kind of gossip passed around at Hogwarts. Her reputation preceded her in many ways. Her shiny, blonde hair was long and thick, highlighted by two braids and two sparkling blue orbs that could only be described as ‘doe eyes’. That she knew where to find him also spoke to her knowledge in and around the school.

“Hi, David,” she said in a friendly greeting.

A girl like this didn’t just talk to anyone. And though Penny was not regarded as stuck up or mean by any stretch, David still found himself surprised to be cordially sought after by someone such as her.

“You know who I am?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Tiny bit, yeah,” David said frankly. “You’re the most popular girl in our year. Don’t know you’re talking to a guy who’s half mad?”

“That’s not what I hear,” she countered. “Nor what I saw. Your name’s all over the place David. The hero who was brave enough to stand up to the tyranny of Merula Snyde.”

“Well you know me. Can’t resist getting into trouble.”

Penny giggled.

“There’s that infamous sense of humor you have. Relax, I just wanted to say thank you. Almost everyone I knew was miserable with her going around bullying everyone in sight. Especially poor, Ben. The way you completely outmaneuvered her in that duel was amazing.”

David could feel a slight blush coming on. It was one thing for Rowan or Ben to give a compliment, it was quite another to receive one from a girl.

“Uh..well, thanks Penny,” he said, trying to sound confident.

“You’re welcome. If you need anything let me know. I’d be happy to help. I’m not just a gossip girl you know, I’m excellent at Potions. Professor Sprout’s said she’s never seen Snape take so well to a Hufflepuff before.”

“Well I hope I’m able to take you up on that. If that old greaseball in there has his way, I’ll be on the train home.”

“Something tells me that won’t happen,” Penny reassured him, a slight mischievous twinkle entering her eye. “Come sit with me at dinner tonight. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

David’s heart warmed a little.

“Thanks, Penny.”

“Anytime! I’ll see you around, Dave!”

She gave him a quick hug before running along, leaving the first year Gryffindor to wonder whether his duel with Merula might not have brought some perks after all. Even so, he still had to endure the wrath of Snape and possibly McGonagall first.

Sure enough, they were there, along with his hated enemy, who still retained a rather submissive expression in the face of her teachers. David for one, was glad he had not been put into Slytherin, not just because it had the darkest reputation of the four houses, but having Snape as your head…he tried not to think about that too much. At least McGonagall was fair.

“Mr. Grant, please sit.”

He obliged by grabbing the chair and sitting down next to Merula. Professor McGonagall sat at her desk, flanked by Snape on her right.

“Now that we are all here, we can discuss the proper course for your actions today,” she said. “After making several inquiries among those who witnessed the incident, we have determined it indeed was Miss Snyde who cast the first spell.”

That brought out immediate protest from the Slytherin.

“But Professor, I didn’t start anything. I was just minding my own business when Grant-”

“Silence!” Snape cut across her. “Miss Snyde you are an atrocious liar and it makes me wonder why you were put into my house.”

He didn’t seem disappointed that Merula was getting punished, no it seemed more that he was upset that a member of his house had been dumb enough to get caught in order to force his hand. He couldn’t play favorites in this situation.

“That being said,” he added, his wrath turning towards David. “That also does not excuse Mr. Grant’s actions either. Since you have arrived here at Hogwarts you have broken numerous school rules, made a mess of my classroom and dueled illegally in the courtyard, all of reminiscent of your brother. I assure you, if it were up to me you would be on the train home right now.”

A small clearing of McGonagall’s throat indicated it was her turn to speak.

“We want to make it clear the seriousness of what you have done. It must not be repeated. However, Professor Dumbledore does not agree with Professor Snape in his recommendation of expulsion and nor do I. Each of you will serve a week’s detention and that will be the end of it. If either of you are caught dueling without permission again, you will not be let off so easily.”

David nodded towards his head of house, indicating he more than understood. Merula, merely continued to sulk.

“You both are dismissed for dinner. Good day.”

McGonagall quickly left the vicinity and Snape behind her, leaving the two first years alone once more.

David wasn’t about to stay any longer, lest he risk another argument with the Slytherin girl and began to make his way out of the classroom.

“You think you’re so special, Grant,” he could hear call after him. “But you were just lucky.”

“I wouldn’t call anything that just happened ‘luck’, Merula,” he replied. “Be thankful I only used the disarming spell on you.”

“I’d take you down in a rematch,” she continued to push as she went up to him, stopping near the doorway. “And you’re going to pay for embarrassing me like that.”

“I did what I had to,” he said back quietly. “And if you threaten Ben again I’ll…”

Suddenly, she grabbed him and for a split second, David thought she was trying to 

physically assault him this time. But that wasn’t the case.

“SHHH!” she said, putting a black polished finger to his lips, pinning him to the wall. 

“Listen.”

“Listen to what?”

“SHH!”

“You know, that is a really good imitation of Madam Pince.”

“Merlin’s beard, Grant do you ever shut up?! Can’t you hear them talking?”

He paused and through the walls and outside of the doorway came a muffled, but audible conversation between Snape and what sounded like a gruff, wheezing old man.

“…who else knows about this?”

“Only me and Mrs. Norris saw the ice, sir. Was going to report the incident to the 

Headmaster, I was.”

That voice could only belong to Argus Filch, the cantankerous, nasty caretaker who was always trying to catch students in acts of wrongdoing in order to hang them up by their ankles (fortunately Dumbledore did not allow such extreme punishment).

“I will inform Professor Dumbledore. This may have to do with the Grant situation and the cursed vaults.”

Filch’s voice took on a greedy tone.

“Is it true that the vaults are filled with gold and powerful prophecies and artefacts from before Hogwarts existed? And that’s why the older Grant boy lost his mind trying to find them?”

“Don’t worry about what’s inside the vaults,” Snape responded curtly. “Worry about keeping everyone out. Especially the students.”

“Aye, sir.”

The two men walked away in separate directions before the two first years separated awkwardly.

“Well, looks like your brother wasn’t completely mental after all,” Merula said, a smirk playing on her face.

“So, all of a sudden you believe in the cursed vaults? Way to be a complete hypocrite.”

Merula gave him one last leer, one that made David uneasy.

“I don’t have to explain myself. Especially not to an idiot like you. See you around, Grant.”

And she walked out without another word.

David wasn’t sure himself what was going on. If the Professors were discussing the existence of the vaults, didn’t that make them real? And why did Merula have a sudden interest them after accusing Jacob of being mad the whole time?

And did this have anything to do with the voice he had heard in the library the other day?

Too many questions, not enough answers, if there were any to be had. For now, he was satisfied that he had defended Ben, defeated Merula, and gotten away with scarcely more than a short time in detention. It was enough.

But as David would soon find out, Hogwarts had a way of throwing surprises when one least expected it.

#david grant #hogwarts mystery #merula snyde #ben copper #rowan khanna #bill weasley #minerva mcgonagall #severus snape #hphm

[nervouswreck-96]

Supernova (Sonic fanfic): Chapter 5: What's He Building In There?

Well…shoot. I can't really say anything here, other than I'm sorry. This is where you'd usually find me giving an excuse for slacking off (busy schedule, hectic family life, kidnapped by Bowser, etc.), but I honestly don't have one. There is no explanation for the delay other than a combination of writer's block, a horrific lack of inspiration, and flat-out laziness on my part.

In fact, the chapter you're reading here is somewhat unfinished, making up about 75-80% of the chapter I wanted to write. I'm only posting it for the sake of posting something, and just to see if anyone is still interested.

Don't be surprised if it takes another year for the next chapter to come out, although reviews may shorten the wait ever so slightly.

...too late.

He exhaled, forgetting his place for a moment, and slumped in defeat. Disconnected chunks of black plastic sliced through the lining of his gloves, cutting into his hands. This was all that was left of Tails' communicator. The damned thing had burst open from the casing, revealing a veritable Escher painting of disconnected wiring and snapped capacitors. Through the wreckage of what used to be a working radio, Sonic swore he could hear voices reaching out to him…the same ones he knew might be calling his name this very second, seeking a connection which had been rudely cut.

For a moment, time froze in the fierce stare between Sonic and his metallic duplicate, which isolated the two from the carnage formed in their struggle. A curtain of smoke enveloped the two combatants, as hardly a square inch of the once-pristine area remained untouched by Metal Sonic's explosive arsenal. But at last, there was a moment to breathe, free of the steady stream of fire, shrapnel, and near-death. The orchestra of battle went into intermission, its echoes still ringing in Sonic's eardrum. Still, it was nice to be able to hear his own thoughts for a change. Then again, that didn't mean very much when those thoughts mostly consisted of the words "too late" playing on a continuous loop.

Which quickly shifted to "get him".

Still very much compromised by the high-speed collision with solid ground, Sonic's mind continued to send mixed signals, playing a sick game with his sense of direction. He was twisting, spiraling, traveling at a million miles a minute, yet at the same time, going nowhere, for he knew his hands and feet were tethered to the floor. Even the slightest impulse to his eyes sliced and stabbed at his cranium, which with each passing second felt more and more like an overripe cantaloupe which had some things done to it by a sledgehammer, but by now he'd kept them closed for so long he didn't realize the multi-colored morass of noise in front of him was only an illusion. Regardless – once he worked out which way was up - he contracted his left leg and used it along with his right arm to push himself off the ground.

No sooner had he raised his body off the canvas than it slammed back down again, weighed down by a heavy, steel boot.

Urghhh…feels like someone dropped an anvil on me!

Second by second, keeping his body above the floor became more of a struggle. The weight on his back only seemed to grow heavier the more he fought against it. One forearm could only quiver at the sheer effort it took, so he moved his other down for extra support. But it did no good. The shaky foundation looked ready to crumble at any moment.

No…no, come on, you're better than that! Fight through it, Sonic! Fight through it!

But his puny arms could not take the strain, and his tenuous grip gave way. As he collapsed chest-first to the floor, repressed physical torment was unleashed in a firestorm that exploded from his aching calf muscle and raced up his backside, forcing a bone-chilling wail out of his mouth before he even realized the noise had come from him. That did it. No longer could he bottle everything up. He had been sent over the threshold where the deepest of primal urges finally surpassed overcame his will to fight them off.

There was something weighing him down. Metal Sonic stood over the pathetic sight…staring at him…judging him...his titanium foot firmly nailing the hedgehog to the floor.

"So…this is what the self-proclaimed hero of the universe, slayer of gods, savior of time and space, has been reduced to? Hmmph," he said, afterwards doing his best to synthesize the sound of a disapproving sigh. "I must say, I can't help but feel disappointed."

"Urgh...I've gotten out of bigger jams than this!" The words choked, sputtered out of his mouth as he fought and clawed to escape Metal's hold. He had to keep to short, stilted sentences, a sensible balance for getting his burning thoughts out.

Suddenly, a breakthrough. Sonic's glove managed to catch on a random spot on the floor, and saw his chance to propel to it and break free. He gradually swung his one free arm out, too gradually, and that's as far as he got. Metal Sonic swooped on the maneuver and crushed it with the other foot. With the hedgehog back under control, Metal leaned over to face Sonic's ear, in the process driving just a few more pounds worth of pressure into his back.

"You are nothing more than a horsefly who thinks himself capable of slaying a lion," said Metal. "As I see it, you have two choices; surrender to the Eggman Empire or face the inevitable."

Sonic's teeth clenched, as he channeled his own physical torment into seething rage, glaring with such fury that he could almost feel his eyes changing to match Metal Sonic's blazing red. 'Surrender'. 'Inevitable'. Those words tended to have that effect on him...now, of all times.

A subconscious impulse glued him to the floor, sending him on a mental journey to the other side of the ESS-1, and a picture emerged in front of him where there was none before, a picture of Tails and Knuckles' battered and broken forms lying before him, bearing the scars and bruises forced upon him by some unknown attacker.

But that's all it was. A picture. An apparition. They may have been on a distant planet for all he knew. The radio transmission was the only link the three had left to share, and it was gone.

Guys…I don't know if I'm gonna make it out of this one…

He scooped the cluster of metal and wiring from the floor and balled it tight into a trembling fist. As if to block out the voices, he thrust that same trembling fist into the floor, creating a shockwave that tremendous enough to resonate across the ESS-1 and command Metal Sonic's attention.

…but so help me, we're gonna finish this thing no matter what!

The next words passed from brain to mouth like a whisper, but with the ferocity and impact of a knife in the dark:

"You really don't know me at all, do ya?"

If he had a fighting chance, he had to make something happen now. Just as Metal Sonic put his entire stock of energy into this finishing blow, Sonic shoved himself in a roll toward his left, holding in a scream as Metal - in a last-ditch effort to hold him back - dug his claw-like toes into Sonic's chest, tearing into exposed flesh.

The gamble paid off. He'd forced the mecha-deity into an undignified pratfall.

With momentum on his side, Sonic rolled into a somersault and bounded back onto his feet. Every step he took widened the ever-growing cracks in the foundation that was his body, but he either didn't know or simply didn't care. The weight was now off his back, and it almost felt like he could leap into the air, swing his arms out, and fly. Sweet, sweet mobility, how he missed it so.

A plasma shot flew across his radar, forcing him into a slide that saved his face from extinction...yet plunged his lower body back into a maelstrom of grinding pain. If that was the price he had to pay for mobility, then so be it.

The world flew by in a blur, or at least this cold, gray prison of a world - man, Eggman really needed to vary the color pallette a bit here - and out of the corner of his eye he managed to catch the doppelganger in his moment of weakness. In the nick of time, he transitioned into a twirling handstand, his legs unfolding and spinning like the blades of a ceiling fan, aiming straight for Metal's head.

"Hey...what the-!"

He struck Metal's left hand instead, which did not flinch, but grabbed hold of Sonic's ankle. A flick of the robot's wrist, and Sonic was cast across the room like dirty laundry.

Hmph...not playing games anymore, Metal? Well, neither am I!

With one flick of his leg, Sonic went from tumbling uncontrollably to tumbling with perfect control, recovering with a short, impromptu breakdance routine and finishing with a devastating kick to Metal Sonic's head.

Too devastating. It actually seemed to connect.

At first, Sonic wondered if he'd missed Metal altogether and actually hit a nearby pipe. But after he got to his feet and noticed the fresh, new shoe scuff he'd added to Metal Sonic's shiny gold paint scheme, it all seemed to come together. The aura surrounding Metal Sonic had dimmed, fading out whenever he did anything more energy-intensive.

Just then, the room was set alight in a red glow so intense it forced Sonic to shield his eyes to look up.

When Sonic finally gathered the strength to gaze into the blinding gleam, he noticed Metal just…standing there, bent over, letting the energy channel into his body. A pair of miniature turbines spun in opposite directions, generating light from pure nothingness and storing it as pure energy, until the mechanism burst into life, ready to unleash it all on the hedgehog. When he noticed that the source was the engine contained in Metal Sonic's chest cavity, he engaged his defenses, expecting another pounding.

But something was off.

He stood perfectly still, both feet planted...never leaving the ground, not floating. That couldn't be right, unless...unless he simply couldn't.

Yes! I knew if I ran him ragged, he'd lose his strength!

"What's the matter, pal?" asked Sonic. "Gettin' tired?"

As if jolted with a cattle prod, Metal jerked his head toward Sonic, who realized that was probably the only answer he would receive. The glow intensified, and along with it came a high-pitched hum.

A very familiar hum.

One engine sputtered, throwing Metal Sonic off balance for just a moment. An auto-gyroscopic correction system boosted power to the other to compensate, and order was restored…until the other engine blew fumes. The problem spread across his body, as his internal processes couldn't figure out whether to stay on or not. Finally, all four rockets expired completely, forcing Metal Sonic to drop.

That laser. Sonic could recognize that whining hum anywhere.

I guess he's tryin' to go out with a bang!

A single sentence played on a continuous loop in Tails' mind – This wasn't supposed to happen.

The halogen spotlights practically seared into his fur. This was a play he'd never rehearsed for, and yet he'd practically been thrust onto the stage to perform to a packed house. And everyone in the packed house was itching to mow him down if he slipped up. They'd left him nothing. An entire battalion of Egg Gunners closed in on all sides – some forming an orderly division on the ground, others lining the catwalks above, a few even scaling the walls to get a good shot at the hapless fox.

The companionship of his radio earpiece was cold and dispassionate, providing no comfort or answers, only non-stop static. Static bombarded his left eardrum for so long that the sensations of dizziness he felt when taking a step were the only reminder he was wearing the stupid thing at all.

It all seemed so simple before. A race against time, and nothing more. Just find the nerve center of the ship, get inside, and raise hell. No questions, just do it. He knew he might run into some resistance along the way, but he hadn't counted on the possibility of this much resistance. There was no telling how much time he'd have to make up…how much time he'd already lost…how much time Sonic had to spare…

His head tilted toward the sky…more specifically, toward the impossibly-high ceiling that covered it. It was the only place that looked to be bot-free…at least he assumed it was. After all, the logic was airtight. Even if a Gunner was somehow stationed up there, how could it see him from so far away, much less keep a steady enough aim to shoot him down?

It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. With one massive burst of energy to his tails, he took off, with the resulting wake force knocking a few Egg Gunners to the ground.

He curled his body into a corkscrew loop, rolling himself over to get a better look at his position. A veritable city of lights took shape behind him, hundreds of little specks of light forming one by one, like fireflies dancing in the autumn breeze. Well, except for that one little speck of light rising toward him. Rather quickly, in fact. Uncomfortably so. Enough for him to see the bolts of electricity jutting from it.

Crud. Make that a dozen big specks of light.

Suddenly, Tails knew how his mono-tailed, ground-bound brethren felt during the hunting season. He was all alone, and that made him the perfect target. There was, quite literally nowhere to go but up.

His lungs were fit to blow at any moment, each twist of his tails seeming like it could be the last his system could take, but damn it, he'd just have to outdo his usual best today. If these baddies were packing anything like what Metal Sonic had, he couldn't be a millisecond off. He sliced through the air like a knife through butter, pushing straight upward against gravity with every ounce of energy he had, because if his calculations were accurate—

A balcony railing passed by his field of vision.

Now!

In one massive effort, he flung his tails into reverse and brought them to a gradual stop, curtailing his ascent. With nothing propelling him, he curled into a sudden dive, and not a second too soon. His face scrunched into itself – he couldn't dare look. He could only pray he made the right call. The world around him flashed once…twice.

Then a thunderous smack. Then another, heralding an ear-splitting chorus of metallic clanging above. Tails' heart went up his throat. Was he hit? Was he hit? No…he wasn't.

The sight of the searing, magma-like red stain dripping from the ceiling, still sizzling from the heat of the combined laser blasts, was a stark reminder of what would have become of him had he not been so fortunate. It eventually dawned on him that this was all that remained of a steel beam that once suspended from above.

At the last moment, he revved up his tails again, seamlessly transferring the momentum from his dive into a near-vertical climb, toward the only open space . Great, he thought. You survived that. Now what?

As if in answer, from a shot rang out.

He couldn't see it, couldn't track it, until it was too late. He suddenly fell into a sharp, uncontrollable dive...and as the laser's searing kiss finally started to settle in his tail, he realized why. He'd taken a hit.

He managed to keep his convalescence to a brief yelp before the adrenaline of the moment kicked in. Powered by little more than panic, he reached into his draining reserves for one massive boost from his one remaining tail. Unfortunately, he'd generated more problems than lift. In his compromised state, all he managed to do was send himself careening upside-down, sideways, every direction other than the correct one. If anyone were to ask him how it felt to be trapped inside a juice mixer…yeah, this was probably it.

If this was the Tornado, the alarm would have been blaring already. PULL UP! PULL UP! But by then, it was too late. He'd fallen too far, too fast. He couldn't put in any more power, but maybe if—

Then the floor came out of nowhere and knocked the wind out of him.

Guess not.

Knuckles' face dripped with sweat, flushed by equal parts exertion and rage.

One door. One lousy, infernal steel door stood between him and the closest thing he'd ever have to a child. It sapped his strength, it took his breath, it took every pounding he could give it and practically mocked him.

He practically threw himself back onto his feet, throwing aside some flotsam from the pile of deceased Egg Pawns gathered around his feet. That situation went to hell in a handbasket real fast. At least he learned two things from the experience. 1: Entering the wrong password on the keypad will trigger a sneak attack by specially-placed Egg Pawns and gun emplacements. 2: The password is not "password".

Still, that was all he had in the idea bag until Tails got him through the door.

Where was he, anyway? He really should have called in by now.

Knuckles pulled out his earpiece just to check whether he hadn't accidentally deactivated it. Nope…the light was green. Still on.

He scoffed. "Typical. Of all the times to go radio silent…"

Deep down, he was thankful no one could hear him. He knew that they could've heard straight through the mask he tried to project. The irony was as unavoidable as it was painful. He found himself truly alone for the first time since he boarded the ship. In a way, he'd gotten what he'd wanted.

But at what cost?

Screw it. Being a guardian meant having to make difficult…even borderline illogical choices. It said in the old mantra that Chaos is power…power enriched by the heart. He could recite that mantra from memory, but now was the time to act on it. What the Master Emerald truly needed was an act of selflessness.

It felt wrong to turn away from the Master Emerald's glow when it was so close…separated from him by no more than a thick steel door and a line of encrypted code. But eventually, he wrenched himself away and headed down the corridor.

Hold on, guys, I'm coming!

Then it happened again.

Argh!

Knuckles stumbled, barely regaining himself. Everything went dark in a hurry, and the room spun out of control, becoming little more than a featureless vortex. The faint echoes of machinery and radio static faded out, giving way to the sound of the rustling wind – a vague, nothing sound which signaled that his mind knew to process something, but not exactly what. Both sides of his head throbbed in almost rhythmic fashion, seemingly ready to explode any second.

These pulses…they were worse than ever. The Master Emerald was in pain, and he could feel it. Not only feel it…see it. His eyes were drawn back toward the other side, where a blazing green light shone through the gloom, in tune with the pounding inside Knuckles' skull. Even from behind the thick steel door, the Master Emerald beckoned to its guardian. He tried to take a step, but when took his next one with his leading foot hanging over thin air, he nearly tripped.

This wasn't real. This was only in his head, he'd told himself. He'd been through this very situation time and time again. And yet, he had to ask. What the hell was real anymore?

Ugh…now he could hardly hear himself think.

Real or not…if the concept of pain could be distilled into a single sound, this was it. This…he didn't even know what to call it, this…throbbing in his head that wouldn't go away. It was there one moment, gone the next, then back again, and like clockwork the pattern repeated. Each step was a furious struggle, his better judgement knowing where to turn, but his senses pulling him in different directions. As he edged closer to the gleam, the flux between "searing pain" and "just fine" faded to nothing, and the pounding only intensified, latching onto him, chipping away at his senses like a mad gremlin crawling inside his cranium.

Nope. Not real. Only in his head. Keep moving.

The more he told himself that, the more he was convinced otherwise.

He pulled closer to the noise – if nothing else, to confirm his skepticism. But with each second, it came into focus, and he noted its location on his right. Some kind of impact…could those be gunshots? Punches landing on someone? No…more like metal clanking against metal. Best guess…someone's footsteps. Knuckles got as close as he reasonably could, and tracked the location of the sound. It didn't stay in one place, it was slithering like a snake…tunneling beneath his feet. It had to be on the next floor down.

There it was again. Tap. Tap. Tap.

…Tap.

Yep…those definitely were footsteps. Slow, consistent footsteps. Whoever this was, it didn't sound like they were in any hurry.

That makes one of us…

Sensing Eggman's presence, every light fixture in the room burst into life, bringing into focus the sheer scale of what he had created. The walls were covered in an intricate series of pipes and cables, every single one of them vital to the operation of the ship. They gave off a faint, green glow, normally too faint to have been visible to the naked eye were it not for the ever-present smog giving it something to bounce off. Soon, the majesty of the cosmos would come streaming through the panoramic viewscreen...though for now, he'd have to settle for a view of the sea and the occasional shipping vessel that passed by.

Strange. Somehow this space seemed almost too expansive to fit on a ship this size...and yet still too cramped. Perhaps the tubes were the culprit. They had arrived just last week, after all, and this was the only safe place on the ship where he could store row upon row of cryogenic-stasis tubes.

Speaking of which...

Dr. Eggman paused and turned toward the lines of tubes. There was one more thing he needed to check on.

"Hello? Sonny boy?" he said. "Daddy's home!"

He walked over the capsule marked with the Roman numeral 'I', the only one in operation. Yet more tubes jutted out the sides of each, meant to hyper-accelerate growth by supplying oxygen and water at high enough doses at the proper times. For all his studies and labors, this was his reward.

A shriveled mass of a lifeform grew inside, flaccid tentacles jutting out of the bulbous mass of a body trying desperately to form limbs, its color as pale as cigarette ashes. Eggman's head slumped to his chin, unimpressed with the results. It was just as he'd left it that morning...and the morning before that, and the night after that. He'd hoped he would see some positive growth after a hectic day apart from its master. But one look dashed those hopes.

He tapped on the tube vigorously, waiting for something, anything. Nothing changed...not even so much as a ripple in the standing water.

From a nearby table, he picked up a pen and clipboard and set about marking off all of the project targets that he hadn't come within a country mile of reaching. As he made his way through the list, marking off failure after failure, his nerves frayed.

Grandfather never had it this rough...

"Sir?" asked a muffled voice from afar. Dr. Eggman turned to find his trusty Egg Flapper occupying the space where he'd directed him to go, the glass tube at the very heart of the room. "Shall we begin the experiment?"

Oh! Of course! The...um..."experiment".

In one smooth motion, he tore the sheet off the clipboard, crumpled it, and threw it toward the closest trash can. Turning away, not even taking care to note that his impromptu sky-hook had undershot the basket by twenty feet, he entered the radiation-proof observation chamber. By the time he settled into his seat, he had already lapsed into another episode of "Dr. Eggman's Thinking Out Loud".

"Bah! No matter! After I'm through with the hedgehog and his friend, I'll have all the time in the world to perfect the procedure!"

"Sir, may I politely remind you that Project Beacon is still in an untested state?" asked Flapper.

"Hmm? Oh…yes," muttered Eggman, as he tapped on a touchscreen, cycling through a rather rudimentary menu. Sprawling bulleted lists of flora and fauna from all over the planet were, for the moment, rendered in little more than a white background and the default system font. He was planning to mold it into a sleek and shiny interface worthy of the Eggman name, but Sonic and his annoying friends just had to butt in and ruin his schedule.

If there was going to be a guinea pig for this test, Flapper was the ideal candidate. One of the few remaining holdovers from the Legacy Series, which all drew power from an "organic battery", it was effectively rendered obsolete for battle duty once Dr. Eggman had found a self-sustaining power source. In one stroke, this opened the possibilities for larger and more destructive Badniks...although Sonic and Tails' little jaunt through the middle decks of his ship should have indicated how successful he was on that front.

But Dr. Eggman kept many of the Legacy Series mechs around – or at least the few that hadn't been felled by the hedgehog's foot. Perhaps it was out of a perverse sense of loyalty. Maybe it was his sick version of 'survival of the fittest'. Either way, he bided his time, waiting for the right moment to use them in the field once again. That time had finally come.

"Ah!" He'd finally reached the right selection in the menu.

Theoretically, there was a checklist with scores of other safety procedures both before and after this part, but they'd all become unreadable by this point, obscured by months worth of coffee stains. Throwing caution to the wind, he flipped open a glass box and pressed the silver button encased inside.

The moment his finger pushed down, all electric light in the room dimmed, sprang back into life for a nanosecond, then went out altogether.

Flapper turned upward to watch the spectacle of light above it. Tiny, green bolts of lightning crackled from an orb at the center of the tube, intermittently at first, but becoming more and more frequent...even persistent. As more energy fired through the tube, the bolts connected with each other, forming a consistent pattern which settled in the miniature vaccuum-chamber at the top. The energy only intensified, and chaos collided with chaos to create more chaos. With nowhere else to go, it grew into an unstable vortex looking for an outlet.

This was an inconvenient time for Flapper to notice that the outlet was pointed directly at it.

"Sir?" Flapper asked. "Requesting information on the nature of this experimen-"

Eggman didn't even wait for his loyal servant to finish before pressing the button a second time. The time for questions had long since passed. Had Eggman given Flapper X-ray vision, perhaps it would have been able to see what Eggman saw on his touchscreen.

The target species he'd selected: FLICKY - Flapper's container animal.

Then again, there wasn't anything Flapper could have done about it.

One blast of Chaos Energy from the top of the tube phased through its skin, tearing through every atom of its being. One second passed. There was no movement, no signs of resistance. Two seconds.

The weapon depowered, and one by one, lights returned to the room to revealing Flapper unmoving at the bottom of the tube, reduced to little more than a non-functioning shell - a shell which the Chaos energy had left almost as pristine and new as the moment it left the factory.

But only a shell, with no power. And no power source.

The word, stuck to the tip of the doctor's tongue, fell out with a soft, almost awed whisper.

"Success."

"AAARGH!"

Knuckles fell to his knees. Never before, not during any of the crises he'd dealt with before, had Chaos cried out to him like this.

#Supernova #guess i kinda missed that six month target from last year #sonic fanfic #sonic fanfiction #sonic the hedgehog

[neko-shinigxmi]

   So I’m thinking about Borderlands again... Listening to music used in Borderlands... So I thought, why not go for it again? Explain my SI in one, comprehensive post, make another tag-series out of it (to go with my BnHA Edition one), and make it easier on us all, huh?

   So here we go! Borderlands, the Self-Insert Edition! Featuring my SI, Rena “Gremlin” Marlow...and co.

Rena Marlow, a daughter of a brilliant scientist of their galaxy and a mother known- if lesser- by her photography of various planets and stars.

Brown hair parted down the middle with strands of brown hair that fall next to her face, in later years; in childhood, she just has fringe. Dark green eyes and wears glasses.

A happy, oblivious kid growing up. Liked to believe in fairytales, love at first sight, superstitions... A whole bunch of things. Very imaginative, in that sense.

Idolized her father. People seemed to adore him and knew him wherever he went. He spent long hours in his lab, making Rena daydream of all the cool things he was inventing back there. She was never allowed back there, usually, so she stuck to waiting around and staring at his lab door.

Eventually, he did invite her in, one day. Wanted help. The idea was so cool! Helping her dad with a project?! Wow!!! What cool thing would she get to work with?

...It wasn’t at all as pleasant as she’d hoped.

What he needed help with is all she’d ever know as “The Machine”. A smooth, pure white, helmet-looking contraption with lots of cords going into it, during the early days of her father hammering out the details of it.

It hurt then, too. Not being fully worked out, it tended to shock her a lot. Strapped down to a chair, she couldn’t go anywhere... Her father would carry her back to her room and- at some point- the process would begin again.

Carried on for a few months until it didn’t hurt anymore; it started...teaching her things. Suddenly, she knew all about oceanic life and could speak of it at a college level. Write her own studies on plant life. Her father was proud of her, The Machine didn’t hurt anymore, and even her often space-case mother praised her. It felt...amazing!!

Eventually the testing stopped, though. Her father brought in a guy to help and Rena was growing up, as the years passed.

In about junior high, she met a guy. Absolutely starstruck by him and settled on them being “soulmates” within a month or two... Not that it was just her saying this, mind you; her boyfriend certainly encouraged it.

Her friends were cautious, but supportive. Be chill, girl. Still a lot more in life, you know? Besides, considering who her dad is...?

Rena didn’t pay it much heed. Instead, more plans for the future! More dreams and secrets and quiet moments...

Well, until another few years later. Wandering the town at night, heading home...and spying that- just down the street- her supposed “boyfriend” was being sweet to some other girl, said he loved her, and kissed her.

It destroyed her. Her home life had never been stellar and she’d been hoping that with him...she’d be able to get out. They’d be a “happily ever after”.....

Rena instead decided to run away. That night. Get as far away from here as possible. Pack her bags, slip as much money and a little more as seemed necessary...and as a final knife to the back, steal The Machine.

It’s no secret it’s been killing other people, anyways. They can’t handle their minds being fed so much information, so it tends to backfire and rapidly destroy their mind... Rena’s never had that issue, though. Likely for growing with it as it evolved...so hers now.

Books it off-planet that night and goes as far as she dares within the next solar cycle or two.

Stays on another planet for a few months. Fakes an ID and goes to a local college... Who calls her out for being a daughter of Dr. Marlow anyways and practically sweeps her in with excitement.

Ends up acing everything far too easily, thanks to The Machine. But it all gives her a good starting point into the world ahead and a fancy piece of paper that basically says, “congrats, you understand what a Science is.”

At this point, understands: biological science (biology, zoology, oceanology), botany, geology, chemistry, ecology, and physics. And she’s just getting started!!!

Keeps running once more ‘til the funds are running low...and that’s when she finds Hyperion.

Initially joins under Tassiter, still recruiting people for Hyperion. He’s...doubtful of her true age, but accepts upon seeing what she can do when he allows her a trial run of things he wants to see done. Fast and experienced despite her face, he lets her join.

Enters R&D from that point on, at first as an on-hand assistant...before rising up to earn her own private lab and assisting with bigger and better projects. Rena proves herself worthy of it, and Hyperion bends a little to allow her, when possible.

It’s around this time, as they move into Helios and continue to set up, that an old crew hunts down Rena. They force her to accept their black-market deals or they report her back to her father... After all, they work for him, too, but are always lookin’ to cut a deal with the better side. Rena gives in.

The events of the Pre-Sequel go down. Rena largely keeps herself locked inside her dark laboratory, hiding away in one of her cabinets. It’s a terrifying, defining moment for her...and one that also helps survive the inevitable Jack takeover.

Honestly, that goes over like day to night for her. One minute, it’s still a “Tassiter” owned company, then before she knows it, Helios is complete and “Handsome Jack” owns the place. Well, okay then. Let her have her coffee as usual, oh Jack sir, and we’re all good.

Honestly, barely leaves her lab. Too much work going on. If not a Hyperion-issued project, then one of her own designs. She’s got a lot of room to work with and she’s gonna make the best of it, dammit!

Still manages to make a friend or two; meets Leah around this time. A very cheerful young woman who’s somehow dug ABBA out of their grave and is fond of “Dancing Queen.” Helps Rena keep in touch with her “feminine side” not that she sees much point to it...

They hang out a bit, anyways. It’s the only time Rena is guaranteed to sleep. Especially in a proper bed.

(Doesn’t sleep in the employee-issued rooms. Gives her paranoia of being alone; she’d rather be close to her work than stuck in a near-permanent panic attack.)

Her first pet project? Lizards. With a whole process of breaking down other key DNA sequences from other species. Why? Lizards....into dragons.

Silverstreak is her “main” partner. Silver dragon, with blue eyes. Incredibly bossy and sassy to the others; easy to assume their leadership position.

Other dragons include:

Apophis: Big male dragon, slightly bigger than Silver. Purple and gold scales, with four eyes total. An absolute jerk who tries to harass Silver, but they have none of it. Would kill a family for a cornchip, probably. And he doesn’t even like them!!

Dymri: Forest green dragon, with brown horns and a streak of fur down his back, with tufts on the bend of his forelegs and hind legs. Is now missing his left wing, due to Apophis ripping it nearly entirely off. (It ended up being amputated.)

Munda: Dymri’s mate. Ended up sprouting a lot more fur than he did, but in a more unusual color: green. Looks like a dappled forest with blue eyes and an attitude.

Poseidon: Blue, serpent dragon. Fairly big, though not as much as Apophis. Likes hanging out in water... That with his scale color, thus, the name.

Firestorm: A red, wyvern dragon. No arms, just wings, only hind legs. Red scales with bright green eyes. Truly a charmer.

Smokey: Firestorm’s mate. Dark scales that give off a black-grey color, which inspired her name. Red eyes. Has a tuft of fur at the end of her tail.

Sugar: Another female dragon named for her brown and cream-colored scales. Also a wyvern, with her hand-wings. Very sweet and friendly to anyone she meets. Small streaks of feathers from head to her tail.

Little Angel: One of the G2 dragons, along with three others of her nest. Has a broken horn on her right side. Black and white-splotched scales. A little trooper and totally not named after a certain siren...

.....Along with many more who are still unnamed to this date. From the first set (G1s) to the babies some pairs have had (G2s).

Cue the events of Borderlands, as Rena continues to raise dragons and serve Hyperion. Depending on who-what-where, this may be where some romances start their growth...but we’ll get to that later.

People continue to bother her. A nickname surfaces... “Gremlin.” Because she’s pretty short (at 5′2″ without her trademark heels), tends to be more active when most people would feel the need to sleep, and creeps around with a hunched back, more often than not. Truly, a gremlin among them.

Nothing really happens in this time period up ‘til BLands 2, in which Rena decides to perfectly time a trip to Pandora with a small group of scientists. Nobody’s really gotten personal with studying the Pandoran landscape, have they? So... Guess Rena will do it, then!

Only to find out why nobody has ever done that; raiders and bandits. Infiltrating the camp barely a week in.

Everyone is murdered. Rena escapes with the briefcase that holds The Machine, but is otherwise alone and stuck on Pandora.

Ends up trying to blend in, after a few weeks. There’s only so much an intelligent woman could do here...but how about one who acts like your typical psycho? Worth the shot, at least.

Slowly, the good scientist slips away into a woman masquerading madness while seeping into it, at the same time.

Pops is one of her first friends on Pandora. Someone she trusts...and a father figure to her. He’s a big man who knows hacking and coding, so she learns a bunch from him. They build robots together! It’s awesome.

From there, she gets introduced to this eye-guy waaaaaaayyyyy across the way over a call from Pops to that other guy. Rena ends up making him “Fly Boy” to do deliveries without leaving home.

Said guy looks out for Rena now, getting her new glasses whenever she breaks hers.

Made a few other bots in her time. One that only screamed “fuck” at the top of their lil’ volume, a fixed Claptrap unit with no sense of direction, and a bot named Sparky. But bandits destroyed him a few days into life. RIP, Sparky....

That nickname Helios gave her? Gremlin? Others call her that, now. All know of Gremlin!! ....Well, not all, but a lot.

Including Pyrotech and Meowzer. They run a small gang of bandits and are probably dating...? Gremlin still doesn’t know, either way, but she survived meeting them, so that’s cool.

Met another person who calls himself Scabbs. Largely because he’s got CIP (can’t feel pain; a marvel that he’s still alive when Pandora is your home planet) and so has a fair amount of scars and scratches... Ever since meeting up with Rena, she’s essentially adopted him and makes sure he’s got no life-threatening injuries.

Which is lowkey hilarious, considering Scabbs has made it 17 years without dying, so he’s not exactly in need of a parent, but... He likes Rena, so it’s cool.

Stocks up on weapons, clothes, and masks. All looted from dead bodies and washed up a little. Rena herself as taken to wearing a black tank top, torn up into a crop-top look, a Marauder jacket, and altered, brown pants. Has boots for shoes. Where she got ‘em, nobody knows.

Is stuck on Pandora all the way ‘til Tales... In which she tends to join up in an attempt to get back to Helios and get all of her shit back.

With that covering the basics... Let’s get down to the AUs, then the shipping verses after that, ey...?

AU 1- AI Rena: There’s two verses for this AU. (As long as this post already is.)

Verse 1: Rena owns the Wildlife Exploration Preserve shortly before the events of Tales. However, she didn’t realize one of her pet projects wasn’t bonding to her properly. While going in for feeding and check-ups, the beast killed her and activated a failsafe that resulted in an AI version of herself being activated.

Rhys, having no concept of safety, jabs a port into his head to try and get information on more pieces for Gortys. Just like a time before with Nakayama, Rhys instead downloads a whole ‘nother AI into his noggin.

Now he’s got an Asshole and a Know-It-All Scientist taking root in his skull. The good news is Rena is much nicer to him than HJack is. The bad news is the two bicker a lot because of it.

Where Jack is blue with yellow eyes, Rena is a green holo with- at first- light, green-yellow eyes. Over time, her eyes shift to yellow, however. Nobody is sure why, but Rhys and Rena agree to blame Jack for it. (Who is proud at her matching him, but less thrilled to be blamed for something he didn’t do... Intentionally.)

Lots of Rena snarking Jack. He can touch her, being another hologram like he is, but he can’t hurt her. Turns out her processing power comes from The Machine itself, so she can easily overpower his cruddy design from Nakayama.

Has a side path where she can enter a basic, non-perfect android body to reboot the systems at the Preserve, but later needs to transfer in another, more humanlike model to function better.

....HJack is not pleased with her upgrades, considering she’s getting the better end of the deal than he’s got. Rhys isn’t impressed with that tone, either. >:/

Verse 2: The Machine takes it’s toll on Rena. Her mind could better withstand it’s power, having being an unwilling subject in the early days of it’s development, but... Even her mind can’t keep this up forever.

It starts with forgetting her name. Won’t answer to Rena, but Gremlin works.

Forgetting her nickname.

Slowly, everything she’s ever learned starts going away. Bit by bit, losing what memories The Machine gave her. Rage sets in around here, recognizing her memory is no longer perfect and putting her into a panic of self-awareness.

Memories of people slip away now. Often cries for her ex or where her parents are.

Eventually is confined to bed, where her brain is failing to the point it can’t remember to continue to make the organs function. It’s around this point that she finally dies.

Her personality and memories were embedded into The Machine; her final goodbyes to friends and loved ones. Her AI keeps people from using it after her and requests that it be destroyed soon.

Just like in the first verse, her eyes start out a yellow-green. Then a yellow... If not destroyed, AI Rena’s eyes will sometimes flicker to red, showing how deeply the corruption has started effecting her.

Either way, The Machine will be unusable. Just as how Rena believed it should’ve been.

Siren AU: An AU in which Rena was instead born a Siren. She sports green tattoos on her right side and often made them glow when she was younger, for her amusement and not understanding who she was...or her powers.

Not that her parents helped any. Her mother was just completely confused and arguments over what to do with her were had a lot. Rena’s mother wanted to get her checked out at a hospital. Her father believed she truly was a Siren and wanted to experiment on her.

The arguments eventually drove Rena away and- living on Elpis at the time- Rena began the first dip into her powers: summoning her Siren wings (in a light green tinge) and flying away...off Elpis! Taking a trip to Pandora in order to hide from her fighting parents.

Phasecommand- Her main Siren ability. When executing, her eyes roll back and it summons Pandoran beasts/animals to her side to control and fight her enemies. However, any creatures that don’t disperse afterwards can be considered enemies to her allies or her, if she accidentally hurts one.

When using Eridium, her tattoos will change into more of a teal color and glow more.

Likes the idea of people, but prefers the animals and Guardians. People are too much for her to handle...

Somehow still summoned little dragons...? Is only ever seen with ones the size of cats or lizards, but it’s presumed that- like her main verse- they’ll one day mutate to full, dragon-of-legend glorious sizing.

Dragon AU: In one of two paths, with either Rena being one of the dragons of Eridian times OR having accidentally turned into one of her own dragons.

Either way, her dragon form typically looks a little something like this.

The first verse has her being more curious and prone to friendliness...but ready to snap if she senses ill intent. Still, tries to be optimistic, at least. Rests within a cave near one of the vaults.

About the size of a two-story home, if not a little bigger.

Rena speaks Eridian, but has the capacity to learn present day English, if given the time to learn.

The runes on her body allow her to safely use Eridium. By using it, her systems can filter it properly into a variety of uses, from specialized fire to shape-shifting!!

Verse two is just...Rena being done with this bullshit. All these years of science, for what? To be stuck as a dragon?!? The only useful thing that comes of this is not only does she now understand the world through a dragon’s eyes, but their language, as well.

Turns out, the language of the dragons is actually original Eridian and not whatever mumbo-jumbo you hear most present day speakers go for. It’s an interesting bit to learn, however it’s debatable if the cost was worth it.

(Will eventually return to normal with an understanding of Eridian, but I like just putting my SIs through nonsense, too.)

otp; Science and Violence (Rena/Jack): As literally pulled out of the RP @punk-opossum and I did a few months ago!! Cause I basically consider that “canon” for this ship, now.     (Okay, with a few bits I’ve added in, but LARGELY pulled from our RP.)

They’ve been around each other since the beginning, really. Rena oblivious and never noticing Jack, but he’s seen her around. Quiet, nerdy gal who bothers nobody and does her job. Is kinda cool, but no other opinions.

Then, we truck over to the events during Borderlands 2...and things get tossed around like pizza dough. [Note: Nisha and Angel are dead at this point.]

Starting with Jack bothering her workspace. Shooting her head of department and declaring her in charge of Literally Everything R&D now. Rena is just trying to fucking work, ohhhh my god.

Not only that, but Jack casually shoves the Destroyer project from Nakayama right into her hands, as well. Rena has never been more overwhelmed in her life....!

And that’s BEFORE all of the innuendos and Jack’s husky voice getting way too close to her ears!!

...So yeah, it definitely starts as what should’ve been a fling, but attachments get all sorts of muddled. Rena’s the sort of balance Jack finds himself craving and, well... He’s fucked, but giving her the little things she thought she lost when her ex cheated on her. So maybe...it’s okay?

Lots of Jack being thirsty while Rena’s trying to work. Or him being clingy when she wants to go back to work... Far as Jack’s concerned, his job is full of free time and is so boring without her around. However, Rena can actually prioritize her work and keep this company’s science division flowing, soooo.... Hmm.

Rena has the struggle of a lifetime, but she still ends up getting her trip to Pandora to do on-planet research...much to Jack’s paranoia and displeasure. (Which ends up being right on the money, despite his best efforts.)

Can’t believe Rena would be dead. They can’t find her body either, so like... Far as Jack’s concerned, she isn’t dead. Doesn’t mean he’s any more pleased or sane about the whole situation, though.

Jack goes full-tilt into madness, sending people hunting through Pandora to try and find Rena. Hilariously, they’re always close, but either she just left her camp or they pass right by her hiding spot.

They don’t find each other until a few years later, when Handsome Jack himself is personally tearing a town apart on Pandora, still engulfed in his hatred for the planet and presumably taking Rena from him.

He aims his gun at a kid, but freezes. Something about her little tanned face, dark brown hair, and...hetrochromatic eyes....has him frozen in his tracks. Then her mother comes running up, their eyes meet, and Jack nearly roars in realization.

She’s dirty as hell, hair messed up and toting new scars from Pandoran life, but that’s Rena...!! Who’s... Who’s the kid, though?

He nearly has another freakout at her assurance this little girl- Carina- is his daughter?????

He’d want to not believe it, but Rena consistently swears off having messed around with anyone else. Oh, and the fact Carina happens to have eyes like her papa. (But unlike his heterochromia, hers is central; a different color surrounding the pupil.)

With this, they kicked off most of Jack’s thoughts for the Warrior, instead Jack now focusing a large chunk of time for the fact Rena’s back, not dead, and was badass enough to raise and protect a baby on Pandora. Mother of the Year award?? Y’all know who it’s going to.

Carina ends up being Jack’s lil’ princess. The only reason she’s not a spoiled brat is cause Pandora does shit to ya and also Rena knows the limits of taking care of kids; so really, she’s mothering both Carina and Jack.

THOUGH BEFORE I FORGET!!! There is a subset of this verse where also Angel is alive, didn’t have to keep being treated like she was, and- while it was a bit late- still managed to get a better mother figure. Oh, and Carina still happens later in this same verse, so her mood improves even more to have a little sister.

...Jack is totally a little salty that Rena and Angel get on so well. He’s an ass, but does love his daughter, so he’s like a sulky cat, knocking stuff over and hovering around, hoping for attention and acknowledgement.

Rena keeps Jack in line those days, so...eventually Angel and her father get on a better foot than before and he’s very okay with everything and clingy to his family.

otp; Rulers of Pandora (Jack/Rena/Nisha): In which Jack and Nisha take in one of the local Hyperion nerds to spice things up... Only to decide, “naaahh, she’s a keeper.”

Took her into their fray around the early events of Borderlands. Where things are fun, but could be more fun... You know?

Jack’s seen Rena around before, but never gave her much thought... His mind is simply too here-and-there to keep notice for long when he’s trying to pick at more shallow aspects to bring in.

Nisha catches her eye, though, and decides she’s curious when Rena immediately looks away, blushing up a storm.

Turns out, Rena can’t handle Nisha. At all. Immediately turns into a klutz around her. Nisha finds it fucking hilarious and proceeds to drag her off to show Jack...who also realizes how hilariously awkward Rena is. They’ve taken her in, since.

Primarily still spends a lot of time up on Helios, but on occasion, will go down to Pandora to spend time with Nisha once HJack gives her Lynchwood.

Is definitely the little “pet” of the trio and is mercilessly teased by them for it, but anyone else messes with Rena? You’ve now got two of the six galaxies most lethal minds on your ass. Start running.

Nisha: I don’t like cute things. I kill cute things. Rena: cooing over some baby skag bc she’s an idiot Nisha: .........For fuck’s sake--

In other words, both Nish and Jack both soften up a bit for Rena. Which is a mistake for anyone else to see, cause while they’ll let their favorite nerd frolic in a field of baby animals, they’d still sooner shoot an annoying pest.

Nisha and Rena are the only ones to know about Jack’s true face under the mask. Nisha doesn’t really care, but Rena? Loves it.

Two Murderers and the Embodiment of Sunshine. That’s how you sum them up.

otp; love like fools (Rena/Rhys): I don’t know what Imma do with this anymore, but it exists as a verse, so I’m gonna heckin’ include it.

Met around the events of BLands/BLands 2. Rena had overworked herself on a project and was hiding in a break room. Cup of orange juice in hand and staring at it. Rhys couldn’t sleep, so he came in... They had an awkward conversation, but not much else.

Curious, Rhys starts stopping by the R&D department more and starts realizing the issue: she never takes a break or seems to get much rest. Work, work, work, day and night. Isn’t that exhausting??

So Rhys takes it on himself to get her food and drink. Mostly snacks, but whatever works. He also tries to ask about her projects, but it largely goes over his head when she starts doing her usual round of science talk.

He tries, though. So that’s nice.

His crush is obvious as shit as time keeps going on. Even his friends notice. Leah notices. Rena? Does not. She is oblivious as heck. Rest in pieces, Rhys.

Literally nothing happens there. Just Rhys doing his best to get Rena’s full attention with no luck. Right up to her eventual trip-and-trap to Pandora.

They don’t meet again ‘til the events of Tales! While wandering around the landscape, Rhys bumps into “Gremlin”, realizes she looks familiar and...

Rhys: ...Are you Rena? Dr. Marlow? Gremlin: Who...? WAIT A MINUTE!!! YOU?!? Rhys: Y-YEAH!!! YOU’RE ALIVE?!?

Everyone else is confused, but Rhys and Rena proceed to catch up. Meanwhile, HJack is making comments that are making Rhys’ face pink and trying to mentally shut the AI up before he says something embarrassing to Rena.

Which basically happens anyways, cause he excuses himself to walk away, thud his head into the caravan, then walk back trying to act like nothing happened. Where were we? #Concern from Rena.

She joins the troupe for fun times, being surprisingly okay when Rhys admits that HJack’s AI is like...inside his head. Just chillin’ there. Well, when not being usual Jack, but you know.

(In some variations of this, AI Jack was programmed to know Rena, so he’s twice as insufferable as usual. However, this isn’t often the case.)

It takes Rhys forever and plenty of nagging from HJack before he even tries to smooch Rena. And even when he does, it was still a terrible idea, cause Jack wouldn’t shut up. Thankfully, Rena’s still pretty chill about the whole thing.

Fiona and Sasha warm up to Rena over time, Vaughn’s heard about her from before, so they all pal up while Rhys has a crisis over HJack ruining his romantic life. It’s a nice break from freaking out around other people, at least.

Joins them on the trip to Helios. She needs to check up on her babies... It’s been so long....

An expert at sneak, a duck around cameras and back up to the old employee living quarters... It’s amazing what a brush, hot water, and a change of clothes can do for a person. (Gotta readjust to heels again, though.)

While Rhys and Fiona are taking over Helios to get the next piece for Gortys, Rena makes her way back to her lab. Not everyone is gone, but... A lot of the G1s have passed away and even a few G2s. Silver and Apophis stay strong, but have been slowly getting bigger in Rena’s absence.

Encourage the trope into an old, cleaned out nesting box and start figuring out her escape plan from there, trying to get in contact with Rhys and Fiona. Only for an eerily familiar voice to pour out around Helios...and announce Rhys the new leader of Hyperion?!

Shit. Shit, shit, shitshit- Now what? She didn’t think Rhys was gonna be in cahoots with Jack! I mean, yeah, he idolized the guy.... Jack embarrassed him a lot, but he still seem to think it was pretty neat...... Awh, hell. Still! Gotta get outta here!!

Ends up smoothly making her escape in a ship with some of her more friendly co-workers: Dan [the Man] (a pilot who used to fly HJack’s private ship; trans, demisexual with a preference for men who is a coffee addict) and Leah.

...And then Helios crashes not too long later. Dan is...less than impressed (internally freaking out, however) and Leah is basically having a panic attack.

Rena tries giving them advice for surviving on Pandora, but Dan later finds Atlas (now being rebooted by Rhys) and decides with Leah that they’ll join up.

SURPRISE, SURPRISE, Rhys owns the place. Dan is brought on as his personal pilot (”Sweet. So, where’s the coffee machines around here?”), Leah is hired for PR, Cassie (a blonde lesbian who’s only ever done secretary jobs most of her life) joins later as his secretary...and Rena? .....Shit, Atlas doesn’t really...have an R&D department, do they...?

Rena nervously points out that- if he finds the muscle, they could retake the Wildlife Exploitation Preserve. Take over, do some rebuilding and remodeling... Make it not only into Atlas’ new R&D, but also a way for Rena to continue her penchant of creating dubious creatures. Also because the dragons are only getting bigger as their generations continue.

Pyrotech and Meowzer decide to join in, along with Pops calling in a few favors. Bandits v. bandits to clean out the place and serve as muscle while WEP is getting remodeled. (Also, they’re getting paid, so other bandits looking for a handy buck hop on for the more beneficial side.)

Rena gets a new look to symbolize her Atlas change (a black, long cloak with a hexagon pattern on the inside, black tights, black heels, and an ombre, orange-red-to-yellow, turtleneck dress; hair is also pinned up)! Power couple of Atlas, basically everyone agrees. And kind of like in another verse, Rena keeps him in line....when he’s not having to do the same for her!!

Rhys: I’m not sure....making a monstrous, three-headed dog is a good idea, babe. Rena: I didn’t come here to make wimpy science, Rhys!! I came here to kick ass, take names, and do SCIENCE! But thank you for your opinion~ Rhys: ......oh no.

6-legged to 8-legged cats are realized under Rena’s flourishing arms. A three-headed dog. The dragons prosper and return to Pandora, honoring Rena as their Mother, as Silver- and later Apophis himself!!- have done.

She even creates an android in secret. Names them Aria and they have learning software. Everything about life, they must learn on their own. Starting with the Preserve, and then one day... Leaving home to formulate their own experiences.

Later in life, Rhys and Rena have a daughter, naming her Vela. (A reference to the trio of constellations that Carina is also a part of.)

Has about as much common sense for safety as her mother does. Rhys is terrified for her safety on the daily. Because of their lack of fear, Rhys tries to keep Vela with him at Atlas HQ more than at the preserve with Rena.

otp; nerdperion (Rhys/Rena/Vaughn): ...I mentioned it once. Then the idea snowballed from the initial idea and the “what ifs”.

Look, I can’t deny it. It’s the nerd trio that most only dream of. In their Hyperion days, you had the money man, middle manager, and the top scientist.

By the time of Tales, you have a bandit leader in his own right, an Altas CEO, and woman who is held back by only her set-in-stone morals.

Vaughn and Rena going on raids out on Pandora, protecting people and the Children of Helios. Perhaps even with the dragons as backup...?

Rhys constantly has to worry for these two dorks, but that’s why he has a steady wing in Atlas for healing stuff. A fair bit of research passed on from Rena, to be fair, but still.

Vaughn takes lessons from Rena how to ride beasts. Like dragons! Was it a good idea? Not really. But nobody got hurt, at least!!! And Rena also solidified the saddle designs for them, so that’s pretty cool, too.

Rhys is a little more boring on that side of the coin in the regard he’s mostly just running a company, but still. Vaughn helps out from time to time and Rena’s running the entire R&D division of Atlas, so.....

otp; scientific haikus (Rena/Zer0): In which my first crush from Tales lives on...and it’s a rather unlikely couple, honestly.

Starting right off the bat with the fact she never really knew about them until one of her Pandoran raids? They showed up to kill some people and then just kinda...disappeared.

That first meeting bothered Gremlin for weeks. Who?? Who????

Meeting them again...and again..... Never getting the courage to confront them out of fear. (What if they slice and dice her up, too?? She’s lived too long to get struck down now...) But despite that, she eagerly daydreams about the oddity...

Also, isn’t as sly as she thinks; Zer0′s been knowing, they’ve just been waiting for Gremlin to go first. Though, she hasn’t been...so that’s a bit of an issue.

Eventually, they make sure that their next target will be in an area they know Gremlin frequents. When she shows up...Zer0 finally gets the chance to introduce themselves.

Zer0: Finally, we meet / Finding you was difficult / My name is Zer0; pleased. Gremlin: .....Did... Are you speaking in haiku?! Zer0:  :) Gremlin: ...holy shit; nice.

They strike up an odd sort of friendship from there. Meetings become random again, though Zer0 takes time to listen. They actually are able to call her Rena in private which is...nice. Kinda easy to forget that was her name before the whole “stranded on Pandora” bit.

Zer0 ends up enabling her collecting habits, too; brings back not-too-bloody clothes and trinkets they find while out and about on jobs. She gains quite the collection, thanks to that!!

Actually wanted to offer assistance when Zer0 took on the Gortys hunt, but joined up only later on and... HOLY SHIT, HYPERION EMPLOYEES!!!

It’s wild, seeing familiar faces and talking about the past. Zer0 has...some concerns, but otherwise trusts the group with Rena.

This includes their plan to invade Helios, in order to get the final piece Gortys needs to access the Vault of the Traveler. They’re not thrilled about her involvement in the plan, but Rena still knows a lot about Helios and the Hyperion system. Her going with ensures things will go even more smoothly, so... Who are they to deny their crush friend from helping others?

....And then they hear it all went to shit. Though they showed up, trying to find Rena among the wreckage... There was no luck. They get upset over this for quite some time, but without a body... Zer0 keeps a metaphorical ear out. Won’t believe she’s dead yet. Not yet.

Eventually, when Rhys gets in contact with Zer0 for help with the vault, they meet up again. Rena is ecstatic to see him again- having since become the head of Atlas’ R&D and gone hunting to assist with this, too- and Zer0 is just happy to be right; she didn’t die back then after all...

Is surprisingly handsy from there on out, flashing the smile or heart emoticons, a hand on Rena’s waist, etc.

Everyone else catches on to Zer0′s affections far faster than Rena herself does, that’s for sure.

Rena: It’s nice... I’ve never really had a lot of platonic affection, you know? Fiona, sighing: N-No, that’s not... How do you not see what’s going on, here?? Rena: .........what? Everyone: s i g h s Rena: ????????

They do eventually ask her out when nearly everyone on the team has them to spare them the oblivious misery, cause- once again- Rena sure ain’t gonna do it.

Also cause Gortys has been trying to ask about them dating anyways, so-?? Just do it???

Zer0 still takes a while longer to get the right words to say that fit their haiku format, but the actual confession...? Well, at least it feels like the right note to end an adventure on; seeing her eyes light up, smile breaking free, and hugging the other tight around the waist was good. Great, even!

...Though with Fiona and Rhys temporarily disappeared...who runs Atlas?

Thankfully, Rena knows Cassie personally and has her and another person- Dan, a pilot for Rhys’ personal ship (and once worked under Handsome Jack, as well)- back her up on heading Atlas for a temporary period of time.

Zer0 sticks around for a time, just to make sure a mutiny doesn’t rise up and try to take Rena down. They only back off once her guard-friends from R&D make their way over... Again, just in case.

Zer0 goes back to work not long after that, though makes sure to visit more often. It not only makes them anxious to not know how Rena is doing (if she’s still alive), but also because they’ve started getting used to her touch. Touch starved? Zer0? ....A little.

Starts even exposing her face around her, Rena admits. What they look like? Well, pffftt, she’d never tell~!

otp; i ruv you (Rena/Timothy Lawrence): Oh, it started as a joke...then I was in too deep and now it’s never been better~

Thanks to both of them being workers under the Hyperion brand, they end up meeting sooner rather than later.

Much like Jack, Tim noticed Rena around: sitting in the Hub and people-watching, walking by her lab... Things like that. Didn’t pay too much mind, but then...he got hurt. On his face.

Rena, being the oldest lasting employee not killed off yet by Handsome Jack, is given the old papers for the build of Jack doubles and given some people to work with by HJack himself in order to fix up Tim right.

It’s love at first appointment; she’s gentle, knows what she’s doing, and eventually he’s looking back to the usual. The little smile she gives as he left? ...His heart was racing for an hour after, he swears by it.

He starts visiting her more, after that. Whether because he allowed himself to get hurt or it’s after a mission and he’s got some extra free time before his next one... He hurries to that lab of hers in order to chat.

Befriends the dragons she creates happily. Silver doesn’t bond to him in the same way, but they tolerate him and will let Tim hold them. It’s so cool!!!

Then Rena admitted to him one of her other projects...wanting to create multi-legged cats. Tim was thrilled at the trust, nervous over the project, but Rena assured all would be well. The dragons have done wonderfully, so that will go well, too!

He got the chance to kiss her when she was patching him up again. He’d tried to lean forward, but she stopped him a moment to finish up...then, shyly, asked if he wanted to try that again...? He lit up and they both got into a hasty, messy kiss that had them giggling in delight.

...With that, their unofficial dating started! (Which HJack quickly knew about and considered doing something to one of them to end it, but overall decided if any news got out, he’d actually take Rena as his own and make his doppelganger regret getting into a relationship behind Jack’s back; capiche? Tim nervously agreed.)

Still... Her move to Pandora made him nervous. Especially since his next assignment was on Elpis, so if anything happened...!

Rena kissed his cheek and assured him she’d be fine. It would be very in and out; no need for worry!

When even Jack was troubled by the report that came in later, Timothy was up in arms ready to shoot down some psychos.

HJack: Like, nobody reported her body. Which could be a sign she’s not dead? But it’s Pandora; who knows? Tim, sweating and shaking: Please...just fucking shut. Up.

Backtalking the boss is bold, but Tim is all kinds of done with this news and needs to ditch for Pandora in order to find Rena. HJack allows this more out of interest for the “game” than anything else.

Timothy ends up- more or less- a sort of permanent presence on Pandora while trying to find Rena. Doesn’t much notice or care when Jack’s insanity summons the Warrior...or when he’s taken down. Besides, people spook more easily to hear Handsome Jack died, but see his masked face even still on Timothy’s own.

Not getting answers on where Rena is...stresses him out, though. Makes him bitter, that maybe someone did kill her... He expresses his anger in a bit of murder and then sulks more over how this is turning him into a lesser Jack after all... Makes the guy almost sympathetic.

But with a few years passing, Atlas suddenly rises up out of the crashed ashes of Helios...and if Tim has any hope left for the lost Rena, might as well go there, right?

He scares the shit out of Rhys, walking in looking like Handsome Jack in the flesh. (Not even his secretary tried to stop him, looking like he did; dirty and murderous.)

...Though it’s actually just some resting bitch face and determination. Tim ends up explaining everything and Rhys even more hurriedly explains that she’s not dead!!! In fact, he just sent her over with a group of hired bandits to the WEP! She’s going...to be heading his new R&D department, you know...

Tim almost doesn’t want to hope, but he jolts out of there faster than Rhys or Cassie can stop him and is rushing to the Preserve in hopes to catch her there and maybe help out in the firefight.

Ends up finding her in a car just outside, all tanked up and safe as she directs everyone to where they need to go...but oh shit, handle that on your own for a bit; there’s a guy outside the car. She walks a little closer...and screeches, stumbling back.

Tim: No, no!! Rena!!! It’s me, it’s Ti- Jimothy!!!! It’s me, not Jack! Rena: ......Timothy?

She hesitantly lets him in and Tim at least proves that- despite his appearance- he is definitely not Jack by patting her over, realizing she’s alive, and then kissing her breathless.

Rena explains her situation having gone by “Gremlin” up to this point and pretending to be a psycho on occasion in order to live. The new friends she’s made up until that point. Tim tells her about the years he spent trying to find her, hoping she wasn’t dead.

As self-promised, he cuddles her in his lap for a little while longer, then kisses her again and joins the firefight outside to clear out the preserve.

Hyperion’s fallen, Atlas is a rising venture... Why not? Student loans sure don’t matter anymore.

He largely stays with Rena at R&D; her personal bodyguard and more-official-than-in-the-past boyfriend.

She also makes good on the multi-legged cats, as mentioned in the past. Tim decidedly loves them just as much- if not more- as regular cats.

ot3; ??? (Maya/Rena/Krieg): So hear me out... I will never learn. This will be neverending. I’m just as disappointed in me as you are. Also, Tumblr removing line breaks is the bane of my existence. Fuck this website. ANYWAYS!

Rena...met Krieg, first. In passing. He was a part of the slag experiments, Rena works R&D.... You hear about this sort of thing. She did, with her sharp ears and too-caring-attitude, despite working for the most monstrous corporation in the six galaxies.

Still, she was never able to help him or anyone else... Despite desperately wanting to. Despite catching his eyes once, guilt eating her up from the inside. (A pity-look from another one of them, Krieg used to think.)

They didn’t meet again until much later, during the events of Borderlands 2: Gremlin stuck on Pandora while Maya and Krieg were deadset on dethroning Handsome Jack. Y’know. Her old boss?

Krieg almost doesn’t recognize her when he’s out wandering, but it’s seeing her dirty face that strikes a chord in his sensible side. He remembers her! One of Hyperion’s own... What’s she doing out here? Alone and without company...?

Not that Krieg cares; seeing someone who was in any way involved with hurting him sends him into a fit of rage, trying to attack her with all he’s got! Rena dodges, not understanding...until she realizes who this psycho is...

It’s the worst first meeting- putting his first interaction with Maya in the dirt- as she eventually bursts into tears trying to apologize to him. It startles Krieg to stop, listening to her as she’s pitifully curled up in the dirt, hands up in a show of surrender, apologizing to...him.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you back then!! I wanted to, I really did, but I... I couldn’t! I’m sorry, Krieg, I’m so, so sorry!!!!”

Maya returns to this scene unimpressed, giving a Look to Krieg before helping the still-sobbing Rena. They both take her back to her shambling little base...and Krieg stares at the coat on the wall. The last reminder of who she was...

It occurs to him, then, that they’re in a similar spot. He lost his mind to slag, becoming a psycho, his mind barely together...and Rena is losing her sense of self, too. Going by Gremlin to blend in, faking insanity to blend in...but how long of that before it all becomes too real? Before she changes for good, even without influences like he’d gotten...?

Maya is more than content to help and leave, but Krieg...feels guilty. It’s a rare show of clarity and kindness from the big guy...and that’s when Maya realizes she’s lost the battle before it’s even begun.

They do take down HJack eventually, but frequently stop by to check in on Rena from there on out. Krieg likes poking around and laying on the stolen mattress she has. Maya finds out she’s actually super smart...and it’s fun. It’s nice.

You grow to like- even love- Krieg for his lucid moments. Appreciating his more violent ones for the defense they provide, as well as the enemy-sweeping he can do. Her powers work well with his might.

Add Rena into the mix, it’s brains, balance, and brawn. It works out even better than Maya could’ve predicted....and yeah, she kinda ends up falling for the scientist, too. Would’ve never pegged herself as the polyamrous type, but... She and Krieg share the sentiments.

Rena and Krieg keep each other balanced. Maya doesn’t have time to baby anyone; she keeps going at her own pace. Anyone who wants to keep up has to pull their weight...but Rena is a natural nurturer. When she’s a little loopy, they use a language only they can really understand. (It takes Maya some time to adjust to.) When Krieg gets frustrated, she helps him through it. To get back in touch with his old self. It’s comforting. Very comforting.

Maya and Rena, on the other hand, share a lot of conversation about....anything and everything. Maya talks about her Siren powers and pieces of her life. Rena talks about her own life- a lot more openly- and the science she used to do on Hyperion. How proud she still is of those times. Maya’s endeared to those moments.

It also later comes in handy... When Maya needs to depart from Pandora to go back to Athenas some time later, wanting to further underside her Siren lineage. Pandora only answered so much, after all...

Won’t let Rena or Krieg join, but the two keep each other company in the meantime. Waiting for Maya to come back home.

#self insert #self insert community #self ship #self ship community #borderlands self insert #Aki speaks #Information on the Inserts #otp; science and violence #ot3; rulers of pandora #otp; love like fools #ot3; nerdperion #otp; scientific haikus #otp; i ruv you #THIS TOOK TWO DAYS TO WRITE #Y ' A L L #PLS GIVE THIS ATTENTION I BEG OF YOU #EVEN IF IT'S AN ASK SAYING 'wow that's neat' #I JUST LDKFGFJDKSLA #so much...of everything...... hhhhhnnnnggghh #so much shit complied into a comprehensive post #this is what I get #for making like 10 AUs for one goddamn series #U G H #11/29/18; I UPDATED THIS OH GOD #3/29/19; another UPDATE #3/30/19; hit me baby one more time #9/20/19; I hope this will be the last time #hERE'S TO HOPING YET AGAIN

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

(A while ago, @misscrazyfangirl321 prompted me to create this. Recently, I got a brainwave to write a little more of it and I’m just going for it after a kinda cruddy evening. Takes place in an alternate Season 2 where Mick never rejoined the team, Ray died at the Oculus, and Leonard lived)

Getting kidnapped by someone who looked like they walked right off a movie set for some futuristic sci-fi flick was unexpected. Of all the days she could have forgotten her pepper spray, it had to be on that day. Not that it would have helped with the helmet her kidnapper wore. She didn’t even stand a chance before he knocked her out.

When she woke up on the spaceship, handcuffed to a railing, Lily thought of all the stories she had read on the news about women who went missing. Fear that she would become some unsolved true crime story struck her soon after. If she was going to die, then she wanted to know why. She asked her kidnapper, and he told her. 

At first, she didn’t want to believe that she wasn’t supposed to exist. Then Lily remembered the last time she’d seen her father, back when the aliens had invaded Central City. He had treated her as if he had never seen her before, and it had hurt. It made sense that he came from a timeline where she didn’t exist, encountered his past self, and said something that lead to her happening. He had been a huge part of her life, but she was just a stranger to him.

Offering to join forces with her kidnapper, this Chronos, was initially a play at survival. If she stayed out of time and worked to save history, then it was more time to live and plan out her next moves. Maybe she could even guarantee her existence if she did enough. But there was a bitterness inside her when she thought about how she was an aberration, a product of history not going the way it was supposed to.

If helping Chronos brought her face to face with her father, she was going to take the chance to ask him some questions about what had happened that brought her into existence.

~

Striking the deal with Lily Stein to let her live and work with him to stop the Legends from the mess they were making of history turned out to be one of his better ideas. There was plenty of Haircut in her with her determination and intellect, not to mention a relatively sunny attitude. She picked up information about dealing with the timeline quickly and made herself useful in how to rectify damage that had been dealt to a time period. Chronos figured she was probably only working with him to survive, but keeping her alive was a means to an end. 

But he didn’t mind having her on the ship with him. He was usually a lone wolf, yet he got along with her. Somehow, Lily (or Junior, as he’d nicknamed her) found a chink in his armor to befriend him. More of Mick Rory started to come back in to mix with the bounty hunter persona of Chronos. The strange part about it was he didn’t mind it happening at all.

When his ship landed in the same time period as the Legends, he ordered Junior to stay put and monitor from inside the ship. It ended up being a good move when he encountered the Legends. A fight broke out, ending with Snart and one of the new members, Amaya Jiwe, kicking his ass. As the Legends dragged him back to the Waverider, he spat a remark about how it was their fault for creating the aberrations in time, that they lacked precision in their correction. To his surprise, Stein was the one who responded.

“We had to destroy the Time Masters, even if they were keeping these aberrations in check. But we intend to fix them.”

The professor didn’t even know his own daughter was listening through the damn comm in his helmet. Hell, even Mick didn’t think she was listening until he heard it click off. The kid raised an eyebrow at the professor once he said that, but his rectification of ‘almost all of them’ was missed when Junior stopped listening. Moments later, his ship flew overhead and weapons were fired at the Legends. In the chaos, Mick made his escape to his ship and took over the controls to pilot them somewhere they could regroup.

After that aberration is corrected, a change occurred in Junior. She became colder and sharper. Her positive attitude diminished nearly completely. Eventually, she wanted to be be trained to fight, claiming she was sick and tired of being stuck on the ship monitoring and planning. Mick suspected she was starting to want to seek some kind of revenge on the Legends. Still, he started to teach her what he knew. If she got good enough, then she could have his back when they inevitably fought the Legends again.

~

“We’ve got bad news.”

“How bad?” Sara sighed as she and Nate wandered past another shack on the plains. The latest aberration was located in Oklahoma 1934. Dust storms were supposed to be ravaging the Great Plains, except history now said they didn’t. Something had affected the soil so it didn’t become...well, dust. They figured it was something from the future, like the virus that had caused a zombie outbreak in the Civil War.

Things had gotten worse in the past few months. Not only did they have Mick coming after them constantly for revenge, but a new group of enemies had showed up. When the Legends did find Rip in the sixties, this new Legion of Doom had snatched him away and brainwashed him to work with them. To top it all off, Stein’s suggestion of having his daughter help connect the amulet with the Waverider was derailed when they returned to 2017 to learn she had gone missing.

“Not only did Gideon pick up speedster activity,” Leonard’s voice floated through the comms. “But she also picked up another timeship close by. So Mick’s here to try and fix this problem now too, not to mention try and kill us again.”

“Fantastic,” Sara groaned, pinching her nose.

“Hey, we might not run into them?” Nate offered as the brush on their path became a little greener.

“Don’t say that,” Sara muttered. Not only would he jinx them, but it reminded her too much of something Ray might say. It had been months since he’d given his life at the Oculus. Nate was similar to their departed teammate in a lot of ways, and Sara could only imagine how well those two would have gotten along.

“We just need to find what’s causing this and get out of here before we cross one of them again,” Jax said.

“Yeah,” Sara stopped as she saw the grass actually looking greener on the other side of a fence. “We might have found it.”

She got herself over the fence, following the green towards a small shack. Nate followed her, steeling up. Pushing the door open, they were met with a strange silvery contraption with three prongs buried in the ground. A tube above the prongs glowed leaf green.

Half the work was done. “Len, we found-”

A clang rung out behind her. Whirling around, she saw Nate’s hand in front of her face. Beyond that, there was a familiar figure in a suit of armor, rifle in hand. Sara inhaled quickly, realizing how close she was to getting shot in the head. But she was still alive and was going to fight her way out of here if she had to.

“Get that out of the ground,” she ordered Nate. “Len, Amaya, get the Waverider here now. Stein, Jax, I need back-up.”

Sara flicked out her batons and formed her staff. She managed to keep Mick distracted for long enough until the Waverider hovered above them. Firestorm came out first, followed by Leonard and Amaya. The latter went over to help Nate while Leonard took a place beside Sara and Firestorm to hold off Chronos until Nate and Amaya could get the thing out of the ground. For a while, it looked like they could pull it off.

“Give it up, Mick!” Leonard shouted as he froze Mick’s rifle. “There’s something worse out there that is an actual threat to reality!”

“I know about the Legion,” Mick’s voice rumbled from inside. “We intend to make sure they get what’s coming to them next.”

Jax frowned. “We?”

“I brought a friend.”

Behind them, Nate shouted out. Those fighting Mick turned to see him and Amaya lying on the ground. Between them was a figure picking up the pronged device. They were dressed in armor like Chronos, but the helmet and design were different. The figure tilted their head at them all for a moment.

“Hello, Legends,” a modulated female voice regarded. “I’ve been waiting quite a while to meet you.”

She threw something into the air. Sara didn’t see what it was before a blinding flash exploded from it. A second later, she felt her consciousness slip away.

~

With the Legends all unconscious, Mick summoned his timeship and took hold of the device they’d found. He’d seen it in the Vanishing Point before. Apparently it was used in the 22nd century to cultivate sustainable life in areas plagued by drought. Now that they had it, the plains would deteriorate to the state they should be in, the dust storms could ravage the people trying to make a living there, and Steinbeck would write the Grapes of Wrath.

“You did good back there,” he muttered as he piloted the ship into the temporal zone while his companion undid her mask.

“I did say I would help you,” Lily reminded him, brushing some dust from the lenses of the mask. “So, this Legion of Doom...do we have a plan?”

#legends of tomorrow #mick rory #lily stein #au #martin stein #team legends #kate does shit #i do not know what compelled me to write this #mily

[dfroza]

“Betrayals are inevitable, but great devastation will come to the one guilty of betraying others.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 17th chapter of the book of Luke:

He said to his disciples, “Hard trials and temptations are bound to come, but too bad for whoever brings them on! Better to wear a concrete vest and take a swim with the fishes than give even one of these dear little ones a hard time!

“Be alert. If you see your friend going wrong, correct him. If he responds, forgive him. Even if it’s personal against you and repeated seven times through the day, and seven times he says, ‘I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,’ forgive him.”

The apostles came up and said to the Master, “Give us more faith.”

But the Master said, “You don’t need more faith. There is no ‘more’ or ‘less’ in faith. If you have a bare kernel of faith, say the size of a poppy seed, you could say to this sycamore tree, ‘Go jump in the lake,’ and it would do it.

“Suppose one of you has a servant who comes in from plowing the field or tending the sheep. Would you take his coat, set the table, and say, ‘Sit down and eat’? Wouldn’t you be more likely to say, ‘Prepare dinner; change your clothes and wait table for me until I’ve finished my coffee; then go to the kitchen and have your supper’? Does the servant get special thanks for doing what’s expected of him? It’s the same with you. When you’ve done everything expected of you, be matter-of-fact and say, ‘The work is done. What we were told to do, we did.’”

It happened that as he made his way toward Jerusalem, he crossed over the border between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten men, all lepers, met him. They kept their distance but raised their voices, calling out, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

Taking a good look at them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.”

They went, and while still on their way, became clean. One of them, when he realized that he was healed, turned around and came back, shouting his gratitude, glorifying God. He kneeled at Jesus’ feet, so grateful. He couldn’t thank him enough—and he was a Samaritan.

Jesus said, “Were not ten healed? Where are the nine? Can none be found to come back and give glory to God except this outsider?” Then he said to him, “Get up. On your way. Your faith has healed and saved you.”

Jesus, grilled by the Pharisees on when the kingdom of God would come, answered, “The kingdom of God doesn’t come by counting the days on the calendar. Nor when someone says, ‘Look here!’ or, ‘There it is!’ And why? Because God’s kingdom is already among you.”

He went on to say to his disciples, “The days are coming when you are going to be desperately homesick for just a glimpse of one of the days of the Son of Man, and you won’t see a thing. And they’ll say to you, ‘Look over there!’ or, ‘Look here!’ Don’t fall for any of that nonsense. The arrival of the Son of Man is not something you go out to see. He simply comes.

“You know how the whole sky lights up from a single flash of lightning? That’s how it will be on the Day of the Son of Man. But first it’s necessary that he suffer many things and be turned down by the people of today.

“The time of the Son of Man will be just like the time of Noah—everyone carrying on as usual, having a good time right up to the day Noah boarded the ship. They suspected nothing until the flood hit and swept everything away.

“It was the same in the time of Lot—the people carrying on, having a good time, business as usual right up to the day Lot walked out of Sodom and a firestorm swept down and burned everything to a crisp. That’s how it will be—sudden, total—when the Son of Man is revealed.

“When the Day arrives and you’re out working in the yard, don’t run into the house to get anything. And if you’re out in the field, don’t go back and get your coat. Remember what happened to Lot’s wife! If you grasp and cling to life on your terms, you’ll lose it, but if you let that life go, you’ll get life on God’s terms.

“On that Day, two men will be in the same boat fishing—one taken, the other left. Two women will be working in the same kitchen—one taken, the other left.”

Trying to take all this in, the disciples said, “Master, where?”

He told them, “Watch for the circling of the vultures. They’ll spot the corpse first. The action will begin around my dead body.”

The Book of Luke, Chapter 17 (The Message)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 2nd chapter of the book of Nahum that regards Judgment against Nineveh:

Nineveh, an attacker is moving in to scatter you.

You had better guard your fortress,

Keep watch up and down your streets,

strap your war belt around your waist,

And gather all the strength you can.

The Eternal One will restore all the glory given to Jacob;

the new nation will resemble the splendor of Israel in its day,

Although destroyers destroyed everything,

even decimating every branch of Jacob’s family tree.

Here comes your attacker’s best warriors with gleaming red shields;

the soldiers are in scarlet armor.

Chariots gleam and flash like fire with their approach.

They were carefully made ready for battle.

They taunt you by waving strong spears before you.

See the chariots race each other up and down your streets,

rushing back and forth through the city.

They look like flaming torches.

They dart like lightning bolts.

Your king remembers his specially-trained forces,

but they can’t get it together, stumbling as they march.

They run to protect the city wall

and try to shield it from the attackers. Their resistance fails.

The city gates at the rivers are thrown wide open,

and the palace collapses in the resulting flood.

A decree is set and goes out: Nineveh will be ransacked.

She is stripped and will be carried far away from home.

You can hear the young girls pounding their breaking hearts

and moaning like terrified doves.

Nineveh was a shimmering pool of water, full to the brim in the days of her glory,

but look, her soldiers are draining away.

“Stop! Stop!” the Assyrian commanders shout,

but no one turns back. The destruction continues.

The attacker commands, “Take all the silver;

take all the gold!

The supply is endless.

After all, their treasury is full of stolen wealth.”

Every corner of the city is turned upside down, ransacked, stripped bare.

She will lose all hope; her knees give way;

she will shake with fear and turn white as a sheet.

Where now is Nineveh’s famous and deadly lion’s den?

The place where they nourish their young lions into killing machines?

The place where the lion and the lioness go, along with their cubs, to feed on victims?

The place where they had nothing to fear?

The lion always kills enough for his cubs

and strangles the prey for his mate,

Filling up the lair with the blood and bones and flesh of its kill

and his dens with the fallen prey.

Eternal One: I stand against you, Nineveh!

I will command My heavenly army to burn up your chariots till the smoke rises up

And to consume your young lions with the sword.

I will leave nothing in the land to sustain you.

The voice of your messengers will never again be heard.

The Book of Nahum, Chapter 2 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for monday, january 17 of 2022 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about an ancient song:

Perhaps the central event of this week’s Torah portion (Beshalach) is how the LORD split the waters of the sea to make a path for His people to escape from Egypt. This event is commemorated in the great “Song the Sea” (i.e., Shirat Hayam: שִׁירַת הַיָּם), a hymn praising God for His deliverance (see Exod. 15:1-21). Because of its critical significance for the Jewish people, the Sabbath on which this song is chanted is called Shabbat Shirah (“Sabbath of the Song”), and the custom is for all the congregation to rise while it is recited...

The Torah states that when the Israelites entered the sea, it became dry land, with the water as “a wall (חוֹמָה) to their right and to their left” (Exod. 14:29). To commemorate this miracle, the Hebrew text of the “Song of the Sea” is stylized to resemble a “wavy wall,” with the words written in alternating "blocks" to suggest a wave of water (see the sample text below this post).

The soferim (Torah scribes) count exactly 198 words in this song, which is the numerical value for the Hebrew word "tzchok" (צחק), a word that means “laughter” and is the word used to describe Sarah’s response when she finally gave birth to Isaac (Gen. 21:6). According to Rabbi Bachya, the laughter in Isaac’s name comes from Abraham’s joy (Gen. 17:17). The joy of Isaac’s birth, then, is linked with the “birth” of the nation of Israel at the time of the Exodus, just as his symbolic death during the Akedah represents Israel’s rebirth...

Because it marks deliverance, both the Song of the Sea (i.e., the Song of Moses) as well as the “Song of the Lamb” will be sung in the world to come (Rev. 15:3). Shabbat Shalom in Yeshua, chaverim! Worthy is the Lamb who was slain for us! [Hebrew for Christians]

The Hebrew text of the “Song of the Sea” is stylized to resemble a “wavy wall,” with the words written in alternating "blocks" to suggest a wave of water in a Torah Scroll:

1.14.22 • Facebook

and another about Love:

From our Torah portion this week (i.e., Yitro) we read words of great promise and comfort: “You shall be for me a treasured people; you shall be children of the King; you shall be priests who help others draw near to God... these are the words (אֵלֶּה הַדְּבָרִים) that you shall speak” (Exod. 19:5-6). These are the words of love: “And you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your substance. Set these words (הַדְּבָרִים הָאֵלֶּה), which I command you this day, upon your heart” (Deut. 6:5-6). We store up these words so that, in a holy moment, they are quickened within us and we are able to hear the Voice of the LORD speaking from the midst of the fire that burns within our hearts. As Simone Weil said, “love is revelation, and revelation comes only with love.” [Hebrew for Christians]

1.17.22 • Facebook

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

January 17, 2022

Eliezer's Faithful Service

“And Abraham said unto his eldest servant of his house, that ruled over all that he had...go unto my country, and to my kindred, and take a wife unto my son Isaac.” (Genesis 24:2, 4)

Abraham required a most sacred vow from Eliezer (Genesis 15:2) to secure a bride for Isaac from the line of Shem rather than from the Canaanites (Genesis 24:3-4, 9). Eliezer had Abraham’s complete trust, with access and permission to all of his wealth (Genesis 24:10).

The Bible notes how Eliezer prepared for the success of the mission with adequate resources (employees, wealth, etc.), and went straight to his destination with no wasted time en route. Along the way he must have anticipated how to discern a proper wife and asked God for verification that He approved of the selection.

Eliezer’s request indicated he had in mind a lady who must be strong, healthy, and industrious, with no delusions of a life of ease. She must also be gracious, sensitive, and compassionate. Eliezer’s prayer did not presume. He knew the assignment and was asking for guidance on how to “see” the character of the potential wife (Genesis 24:12-14).

Eliezer was further aware of his being “in the way” (Genesis 24:27). That is, he was clearly aware that he was acting under godly authority and was seeking the leading of the Lord Himself. “The steps of a good man are ordered by the LORD” (Psalm 37:23), and our paths are directed when we “acknowledge him” (Proverbs 3:6).

After Eliezer completed defining his task, he insisted that an immediate decision be made so that he could finish his assignment. Once the family and Rebecca agreed, Eliezer made sure that the mission was completed by bringing the new bride home to Isaac (Genesis 24:32-67). Would to God that all of us were as faithful (1 Corinthians 4:2). HMM III

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 10: Obvious

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: new stuff soon, <3

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

The trio moved the remaining few things you owned and then setup your new space. Then you setup a few lights in the hall so that it wouldn’t feel like such an unwelcoming space. You decided that you might try your hand at decorating if you wound up stuck there for longer than a few weeks. You were trying very hard to be positive. The next few days, while resting, you would clean up the adjacent rooms and washroom. That would help keep you busy and keep your mind off of the inevitable end that seemed to be creeping ever closer.

You sat on the floor, looking over a list of hospitals in Andong while pouring over maps. Together you charted places to stay while you were there and places of note. You couldn’t recall where your parents had lived but you remembered the hospital the moment that you’d seen the name. Keimyung University Dongsan Hospital.

The search for your truth, whatever that meant, would start there. You couldn’t prove you existed anymore. All of your important papers and identification had been lost in the fire. You were sure that the Chinese government had record of your existence but that wasn’t what you’d needed. You hadn’t minded losing all of that at first. You hadn’t thought about it that hard. You’d found a new purpose and a new identity in Raiden’s Temple with your friends. They’d become your found family.

But there were times, like now, where it made you sad. You’d worked hard for the life you’d built and there were times where you missed your remaining family. You’d never been close and the relationships had been incredibly toxic, but you also still loved them. It would have been so much easier to track this stuff down if you could stop by your sister’s and ask your father. You were estranged but he would have still given you the information. If it came down to that, Liu Kang had said he was willing to speak to them under the guise of a story on the town and the history of the dojo. That would have been awkward too, so you hoped it didn’t come to that.

“I’ll start moving my things over tomorrow. I’m sore.” Kung Lao yawned. He’d opted to take a room that was on the floor above yours.

“If you had just waited to move furniture like a normal person…” Liu Kang scolded, going over the maps again and charting out a course in the notebook he’d been using.

“Today has been exceptionally long. You don’t know that is the reason I’m sore.”

“He’s got a point.” You didn’t look up from the map. “Sure you won’t change your mind? You can just stay in your room. I’m really okay here by myself.” You didn’t want them to isolate themselves. They were important people in Raiden’s Temple. You were the only one causing problems so there was no reason for you all to be isolated.

“I’m not leaving you here alone.” Kung Lao pouted. “Do you not want me to stay?”

“It’s not that. I think it’s really sweet but you’re…” You wanted to say he was more important than you were but you knew both he and Liu would react poorly to that information. “I just think it’s silly for all of us to be isolated when I’m the only one impaling people with ink.”

“And what happens if you’re here alone and you summon something you can’t handle?” Kung Lao frowned. You couldn’t argue with him that there wasn’t a chance of that happening seeing as it had happened many, many times now. “You almost killed yourself today with your arcana.”

“I know that I just… I don’t…”

“Don’t argue with him, Y/N. It’s pointless.” Liu Kang was still writing in the notebook and you sighed. They were right. Arguing with them was pointless.

“I guess the only choice you have is to get better.” Kung Lao beamed and wrapped an arm around you in a hug. You winced and he relaxed his grip on you. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You mean well, I guess.” You threw another glance at Liu Kang and picked up his hand as he tapped the paper with the pen. He was covered in small scrapes. “You never took care of this.”

“I forgot.”

“Can I?” You could feel Kung Lao rolling his eyes. “What?”

“I would have left mine too if it meant you were going to take care of it.” Kung Lao let you go and hopped up to his feet. “I’m going to get some rest. I really am sore. But I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N and we’ll get this placed cleaned up in no time.”

“Thanks, Kung Lao.” You felt your cheeks hot at the implication. Kung Lao narrowed his eyes at Liu Kang before he left the room. You could hear his footsteps echoing down the hall.

“…I didn’t leave it because of that.”

“Uh-huh.” You let go of his hand and he tried to hide his smile.

“I wasn’t willing to leave while you were unconscious. That’s all. Kung Lao was bloodier than I was. He needed stitches.”

“Yeah.” You looked down at the maps and felt the guilt rattle you again. “Can I help?”

“I’m fine, Y/N.”

“That didn’t answer my question.” You wanted to help. Even something as small as cleaning a few scrapes would make you feel a little better. Paying a penance for the things beyond your control would help ease your guilt, you hoped.

“Yeah, you can. If you’re that worriedabout me.” He looked to you purposely as he said the word.

“Oh, we’re playing that game, are we? Mr. I’ve-been-radiating worry-literally-all-day.”

“Feel like my worry is more justified than yours.” Liu folded up the map and placed it aside with the notebook and pen. You picked up the first aid kit that you’d shoved beneath your desk for the time being. Liu was setting his shirt aside and you averted your gaze quickly. Why? Well, habit, you supposed. Thankfully most of the scrapes were on his arms. There were a handful on his face and another on his neck. Why he’d taken his shirt off? You were now uncertain.

You would literally never complain that Liu Kang went around without his shirt. It was very distracting though. You picked up his hand and urged it to rest on your knee while you wiped away the blood, soot, and dirt that stained his skin. He didn’t even budge as you cleaned the small scrapes on his left arm. But he did watch you, which was also very distracting. Liu Kang had a way of taking you in and you shivered beneath his stare.

He pushed your hair back behind your ear and his hand engulfed your cheek and turned you to him. Warm Liu Kang and his careful touch. There were rivers behind his eyes of things he wanted to say but he said none of them. You leaned into his hand and then turned back to your work. He rested his other hand on his knee and waited patiently.

When you switched arms, he shifted and cleared his throat. You threw your gaze back to him and caught his dark eyes full of admiration before turning back to his wounds.

“How are you handling this?”

“Oh, I’m not.” You offered his hand a squeeze. “Turned my brain off. I have completely detached.”

“Y/N…” He was surprised and grabbed your hand to stop you, worry thick in his voice and his gaze. You offered him a smile and he sighed in frustration. “Sometimes your sense of humor worries me.”

“I know.” You held his hand. “I worry me too sometimes but I… joking about it helps me cope. Otherwise I’d just be scared. Laughing makes me feel less scared. I’m…” You shivered and his hand brushed over your arm. “I’m scared.” You hated saying it. Up until now you’d refused to admit it but the more that you thought about it the more hopeless it seemed.

“I’m scared too.” Liu’s hand crept over the hanfu you’d changed into for the night. Then he let you go and leaned against your bed. You scooted next to him. “I’m with Kung Lao on this one. I don’t think you should be alone here. I’ll be moving my things closer tomorrow.”

“Liu…” You knew that they wouldn’t listen. Why were you arguing? You wanted them to listen. “I know you guys are worried and that you feel guilty that I’m here alone but I volunteered for this. It was my idea. I know it’s dangerous but… not hurting anyone anymore also meant not hurting you.” You turned to face him and rested your hand on his cheek. He placed his hand over yours and then urged his lips to your palm, never taking his eyes away from yours. Your stomach tightened into knots. Why was it that when he looked at you, you felt naked? Like he could see you as vulnerable as you often felt? “Look at you.”

“I know you feel guilty.” He pulled your hand away from his lips and held it in his, thumb brushing over your knuckles, prayer beads between both your hands. “I can’t spare you from that as much as I wish to. But I made my choice. Kung Lao warned me what would happen if I did.”

“You just… jumped right through it to get to me.” You furrowed your brow as you felt the burning behind your eyes, hot with emotion. You hated crying. You hated it. Don’t do it. “You’re a fool sometimes, Liu Kang.”

“Call it what you will. I couldn’t leave you in there all alone. At least I thought of the rug, right?” He tried to lighten the mood but it was too heavy to accomplish. “He would have killed you. Bi-Han. Raiden told me a bit about him. There are murals you should see. But I… I had to get to you. I’m not sorry for that.”

“I know you’re not. And I’m grateful that you did. I was terrified. Too weak to fight and he…” You closed your eyes and focused on breathing. You’d felt so damn helpless. You hadn’t felt helpless since you were a kid and you hated it. There was no closet to hide in here to cry it out. Nowhere to hide from Liu Kang. “I hurt you. Again. And Kung Lao.”

“It wasn’t you, Y/N. You were hurt too.” He brushed his fingers over the sore marks on your arm from the ice beneath the sleeves of your hanfu. You nodded but you felt responsible for all of it even if you’d had no control over it. You felt responsible for not having control. Liu Kang had gotten you to talk about it, something you hadn’t wanted to do. It was easier to cry alone and then fake okay until you felt okay. You didn’t want any pity. Liu Kang didn’t think you were pitiful. He was worried about you. He let go of your hand then brushed his fingers over your cheek, just beneath your eye and you knew he was wiping away tears that had, regretfully, fought their way free.

“Ugh.” You whined and leaned back, sniffled, and then wiped your eyes free of the blurry tears so no more of them would rebelliously fall down your cheeks. “I hate this.”

“This feels like a much healthier emotional response, at least.” He teased and you laughed and then shoved his shoulder lightly. He pretended you pushed him much harder and then scooted closer to you.

“I don’t like crying.”

“No one likes crying, Y/N.”

“Fair point.” You stuttered and then closed your eyes. “Will you sit still so I can finish?”

“I’m fine.” He laughed and took your hand as you made to wipe one of the scrapes on his face. “I’m fine, Y/N. I’m tougher than you think.”

“So am I, Liu.” You didn’t have the strength to back that up anymore, but you still meant it.

“I know.” His fingers brushed over your jaw and beneath your chin, tilting you to look back up at him. You were powerless to deny him. He smelled of soot and blood. “I made a choice to protect you. I won’t lose you.” He crept ever close to your lips and you admired his as they came close. There was a cut on his lower lip you hadn’t noticed, the red of the wound having melded into the red of his lips. He was attractive even wounded. It would have even been sexy if you hadn’t been the one to hurt him. “Don’t give up.”

“I’m not.” You assured him but your voice felt weak. Was it because of everything that had happened or because Liu Kang was holding you so close, so intimately? “I am being realistic though, Liu. This is the right place to be. I won’t forgive myself if I…” You didn’t want to lose him. You didn’t want to lose him or Kung Lao.

“And I won’t forgive myself for not protecting you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about. I’m not the one who needs protecting.”

“That’s not the point I’m making, Y/N. I want to protect the people I care about. Not because I don’t think you’re capable but because you are precious to me. Have I not made that clear? How much I care about you? How much you mean to me?”

You shivered all over and closed your eyes, swearing that your heart had skipped a beat. He just went right out and said it. Dammit, he was romantic. The tension was so thick you swore that you struggled to breathe. Liu Kang created his own atmosphere. Then again, it could have just between the two of you. You liked that.

“I…” You struggled with words, as if the air were too thick for them. His lips were so close, bruised, and bloodied, but perfect. Would kissing him hurt him, you wondered? He seemed willing to feel pain at a chance at your lips. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat ever present being this close to him. His fingers pushed your hair back from your face and you leaned into his touch, the whole thing having become such a comfort. He’d done this so much that you craved it, like an addict.

His lips met yours and you felt that swelling in his lower lip and swore you broke. But he held you up. He kept the pieces of you in place. When you were falling apart, Liu Kang wasn’t afraid to pick you up. He wasn’t afraid of the mess you’d make. He didn’t criticize you for your feelings. He didn’t belittle you for your worries. But he supported you. He winced as you grasped at his forearm and you pulled back from that sweet kiss very suddenly.

“No.” He urged his lips back to yours and you laughed against them as he wrapped his arm around you before you could argue with him and pulled you right into his lap. You placed your hand on his cheek and he urged his knees up to urge you higher, tilting his head up right into that sweet, tender kiss.

“Your lip.” You muttered against it.

“It’s fine, Y/N, don’t… you dare stop kissing me because of that.”

“Wow, bossy.” You laughed as he placed his hand at the back of your neck as if to make a point. Pushing his hair back you shoved that worry from your mind. You sat sharing soft, intimate kisses in the dim lamplight of your new space. His lips tasted like the soot and blood he smelled like and it gave you the oddest thrill to memorize those new marks on his lips. Strong hands brushed over your arms and then down to your hips and you pulled back from that kiss, reluctantly. He looked in a daze, but a happy one. As if you’d woken him from a nap.

His thumb brushed over your hip, hands gently caressing over the outside of your thighs and back up again. Liu Kang was no longer nervous to touch you and his hands at your thighs were practically a death sentence.

“…you’re trying to get out of getting cleaned up.”

“It’s working.” He smiled up at you and pressed his lips to yours again and you returned that kiss for a second before pulling back.

“Boy, is it working.”

“The scrapes aren’t going anywhere.”

“I know.” You brushed his loose, messy hair from his face. “Let me take care of them?”

“Mmm…” He considered this and his hands returned to your waist. “Yes, of course, Y/N.” You took to tending to the scrape on his jaw, on his cheek, on his forehead. It was soothing. He closed his eyes and let you take care of him as if the motion were putting him to sleep. Then you finally set aside the first aid supplies and admired your handiwork. Liu Kang was only made more handsome by the scrapes on his face. How was that possible? Were you that wrapped around his finger? “How’s it look, doc?”

“I hate to say it, but incredibly attractive.” You sighed dreamily and he laughed and leaned his head up to give you a sleepy kiss.

“You made me tired.”

“I could tell.”

“It was nice to be cared for by you.”

“I care for you.” You weren’t good at saying what you felt but Liu Kang made you feel more confident about the lousy way you expressed yourself.

“Careful, Y/N. That might mean too much to me.”

You shivered from head to toe as his hand brushed over your back. Then he sat up sleepily and wrapped his arms around you. “I care about you, Liu.” You rested your hand on the side of his neck and closed your eyes. “More than you know.” He shivered beneath your touch.

“If I stayed tonight… would that be okay?”

You worried instantly what would happen if you had an incident during your dreams again.

“…what if…”

“I’m willing to take the risk.” Liu Kang didn’t seem as concerned about it as you thought he should be. His thumb brushed over your lower back and he left a soft, sleepy kiss on your shoulder. He must have been exhausted.

“Stay.” You relented far too easily. You wanted his arms around you forever. They felt safe and strong. Liu Kang lifted you up and then lazily rested you in bed before crawling in right after you.

“You okay to sleep in that?”

“Yeah.” You adjusted yourself in his arms. “It’s fine.”

“Seems like a lot.” He closed his eyes and urged you to rest with your back to him, tugging you close. Apparently, Liu Kang was fond of being the big spoon. You couldn’t argue. As his hands brushed over your stomach and you sunk into him you felt you could lay like this in his arms forever.

“Oh, really?”

“Could help with that…”

“Wow.” You laughed but even as he joked you could feel him falling asleep next to you. “We have a lot to talk about, you know.”

“I do. Too comfortable right now though. Thought we made good progress.”

“You’re falling asleep.” You whispered as he slurred against your shoulder, face buried in your hair. He made a positive sound and you let him rest. It would take you ages to sleep but feeling his heart beating against your back with his arms securely around you was the best end to this horrible day that you could have hoped for.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #kung lao #liu kang #liu kang x reader #fanfic #drabble #fluff #mk movie #arcana #female reader #reader insert #liu kang x you #drama #romance #fanfiction #ludi lin #max huang #liu kang/you #the oncoming storm #angst #firestorm #slow burn #mk kung lao #mk liu kang #mortal kombat fanfic #mk fanfic #mortal kombat fanfiction

[thesinglesjukebox]

SEIKO OOMORI - DOGMA MAGMA [7.10] This certainly touched our yes.

Ryo Miyauchi: This relentless firestorm of a rock song musically compacts her entire kitixxxgaia album into a 5-minute pop single, so Seiko Oomori understandably had to cut a good portion of it for a late-night TV performance. Out went the year's best opening gag: "Moshi moshi, it's me, God. Wait, you don't know who I am? Proof? Hm..." But curiously, she also had to censor out "fuck you." A petty edit, not just because this aired on Japanese TV, but also every other lyric is far more radical for a frankly conservative public to hear. "Dogma Magma" follows Oomori, a deity who wakes up in the mortal form of a Japanese woman and discovers this society won't take her seriously without following certain rules. She shreds apart those rules in regards to gender, marriage, labor, beauty standards and any other societal pressures unabashedly as she blitzes through her sprawling rock music. Hearing a musician who vaguely looks like me (at least from a foreigner's eye) scream things like "I can't even go outside in this body without putting on make up," "I don't really want to get married, I'm content, so don't mind me," or "ugly or just a piece of shit, I want to change the world" in my first language shattered my world. Now, watching her do the same but for a live audience? It's a miracle any part of "Dogma Magma" was even allowed for broadcast in the first place. [10]

Katherine St Asaph: Like elevator music for the malfunctioning Tower of Terror that was 2017. It's better as song. [7]

Edward Okulicz: "Dogma Magma" has ambition oozing out of every corner of it, but at five minutes long it kind of feels like ten. The opening verse sounds suspiciously like "Itsy Bitsy Spider" and Oomori squeaks large portions of the song, struggling to be heard above musical theatre armageddon. Ambition not fully realised for mine, but an impressive racket anyway. [5]

Juana Giaimo: Probably not the right song to listen to after a yoga class. The desperation of Seiko Oomori is out of control and by the end, the sweet beginning is completely overshadow by the hellish end. "Dogma Magma" is a song that I can find musically interesting but hard to relate to. [5]

Will Adams: Given how much Seiko Oomori's voice sells the bombastic arrangement, the additional flourishes via phone chatter, whole tone dream runs, accordion waltz and blockbuster explosion feel unnecessary. Still, "Dogma Magma" is a rush to listen to no matter how up for the pyrotechnics you are. [6]

Josh Langhoff: This volcanic spew of ideas couldn't have been made by '70s Tubes or '80s John Zorn, but it seems like something they'd dig. The song opens with a gong. Other items of note include abrupt tempo shifts and mixed meters, catchy hooks, a drummer who's exceptionally proud of her cymbals, a double-time DDR hardcore bit for a bridge, two seconds of French cafe waltz, and the English command "touch my yes," which pretty much sums up the aesthetic here. [7]

Alfred Soto: Tour de forces impress and exhaust -- that's the point of them. This mishmash of the show tunes ethos, the wilder bits of Coltrane, and J-pop shouldn't be consumed at a single sitting. Play one section, pause, grab a glass of water, return, pause. [5]

Maxwell Cavaseno: Sometimes, life feels like a giant parody of a parody no matter how hard you try to point out its absurdities. Nothing's too special in pointing out the mundanity of life, and inevitably in trying to point out how the world's a fool, you look like a fool. So sometimes, the best way to go about is to mock yourself and the world all at once, so nobody's safe! JOKE'S ON YOU BUDDY, Seiko Oomori's in on the joke! She is the joke! You're the joke! It's all jokes! And the best way Seiko lands all of her punchlines is the scrape of sincerity with a will to disprove both, undermining herself thematically and sonically to make those bursts of seeming earnestness so dizzy; they could easily be real or yet another joke in themselves. When you spend enough time proving that everything bad is good and what's good is bad, you're never quite sure. [8]

Iain Mew: It's a big musical number, and there's one woman at a piano playing a brisk showtune, but the curtains are moving and there are all kinds of horrors and wonders hiding in the shadows, waiting on hidden cues to each pounce out for their moment. By the end the piano is probably on fire too. But the real trick is that, even amidst the ludicrous spectacle, it's impossible to turn attention away from her voice. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: A propulsive, energetic, brilliant pop song that skews between pillowy piano, simple, humming bass, scalpel sharp guitar and thick, gushy and solid drums and raspy, sparkling guitar, grim, unflinching bass and rapid, viscous drums.The singing is.../I gotta./Do it for the culture./////////#Blessed. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#Seiko Oomori #TSJ Best of 2017

[nursexpeditions]

i’m bracing for the worst and hoping for the best, trying to make sense of the madness in my head

I felt so much that I started to feel nothing. One of the hardest battles we fight is between what we know and what we feel. It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply. I withdraw from people and places from time to time. I need space from a world that is filled with millions of mouths that talk too much but never have anything good to say. 

These thoughts, they’re sharp enough to tear through my bare skin, through my muscle, then slowly eat away at my bones, and before you know it, they’re cutting away at my heartstrings. My heart beats, so loud and so fast that you’d think I was running for the gold medal at an Olympics event. Anxiety so fierce not even a Xanax or a bottle of liquor would be able to calm the storm I’m fighting. All i see is the slow erosion of self, as insidious as cancer, and like cancer, it is essentially a solitary experience, a room in hell with only my name on the door.

I hear “what's wrong” or “you’re overthinking.” A blank screen appears in my head and I think to myself who have I become? What has made me into this monster? I look in the mirror and only do I realize that it’s been me this whole time. How inconvenient when you’re the firestorm burning everything in your path. 

“But he that dares not grasp the thorn, should never crave the rose.”

In these instances, I wanted to tell you how impossible it feels in these situations. It’s like trying to hold water in the palm of your hands, like trying to prevent an ice cube from melting in the summer, like attempting to run through the water. It’s not possible, yet here I try so hard. 

Someone with anxiety is inclined to assume everyone is going to leave. So much so that sometimes they might be the ones to ruin a relationship. I ruined many things that could’ve been amazing just because I was sad. 

The truth is, I battle something I can’t control and there is a sense of insecurity within myself when it comes to relationships. It’s hard sometimes. I create stupid fights of scenarios that I created in my head. I’m going to jump from point A to point B without even knowing all the details, and sometimes you’re not even going to understand how I got there. The best thing you can do for me is understanding how I went off on that tangent. Even if there’s no solution, the act of listening helps. I know in your eyes, it might seem irrational; but to me, it’s something that actually keeps me up at night, and I probably won’t sleep through the night because of it. It’s definitely not that I don’t trust you, but because I’m more scared than anything. 

It’s every worst-case scenario automatically playing out in my head and trust me, I already hate myself for it. By now you’ve probably noticed how fast i answer you, and for example, it helps when you say i can’t talk right now and this is why i’ll text you later. Silence kills anyone with anxiety and creates a hostile environment for problems that aren’t even there. It ends in apologies that aren’t even needed and adds layers of stress to my life that I wish i could control. 

I’ve realized my anxiety manifests in two ways, i’ll either be quiet and awkward, or you’ll be carrying me out as I choose my poison to ease my worries. Whether its a night out gone wrong, or an essay of a text saying or doing the wrong thing, I’m very observant and pick up on the slightest shift in behavior.

I would rather have meltdowns biting off more than I can chew because I have a hard time admitting I can’t handle something. I will always say yes and I will never turn anyone away which is my biggest weakness. I say help when you can but know when you can’t because I’m inclined to not ask for help since I’m used to dealing with things on my own.

..But that’s exactly where i’m flawed. The deepest pain i ever felt was denying my own feelings to make everyone else comfortable. Just because I bury something doesn’t mean that it stops existing. I was willing to suffer as long as you had what you wanted in life to make you happy. Where do you draw the line in sacrificing too much of yourself to make a relationship work? 

For a while, I kept telling myself I was dealing with it the way that i am currently and doing this for the success of our relationship and that was enough for me at the time, but if i’m being honest, the more I think about it and the more time i spend with you, the more i want to move on with my life with you and if you feel the same, i need to feel or see that you’re taking the steps to as well. 

I get that the situation itself is complicated, but lets face it, that will never change. It’s like we’re waiting for it to miraculously uncomplicate itself one day, but in reality, it never will. I realize now i’ve been waiting for a day that will never come. Because at the end of each day, what are we REALLY waiting for? What will taking more time do for anyone? You and her will forever have history. You and her will always be close friends. You are a part of her life just as you are a part of mine and that’s something i’ve accepted just as she’s accepted that I am your significant other now (so you say). IThe most important question here is, what will waiting or taking up more time do for anyone? More time to be prepare ourselves? More time to be “ready” to face the inevitable? If anything, we are only prolonging the inevitable. 

But hey, you did have a point, there is a certain justified amount of “time” we should take before going to the next step, but that justified length of time for that window, in my opinion, has certainly passed.

I continually feel like the bad guy whenever i tell you that i’m uncomfortable with your interactions with her. It first started just as hanging out with her, but then it got more complicated to having to switch off being butters caretaker, traveling from city to city, at times having to be okay with your stay over for your own health and well being, and honestly the hard truth is that i’m just expected to deal with it. I know you ask and try to do things that will help alleviate all my anxiety but when will enough be enough? now family interactions? i didn’t even think it could get worse, and i must sound like the most fucking horrible selfish devil human being on this fucking planet because who in their right mind is even uncomfortable in a situation like this? I mean that takes one special fucked up person??? 

If we put all the cards on the table, its clear that I don’t think anyone will ever truly be prepared or ready for this, but it’s a bridge that needs to be crossed for the health of this relationship and i hope that you agree with me. I need to know i’ll be set up for success moving forward in this relationship because it’s absolutely nearly impossible to be supportive of you, trying to be supportive of her, let alone someone that has always been a threat to me. Its just not a good feeling for me. If she’s not a threat to me, then please help me see that. I want to be able to communicate with the people that are closest to you without feeling like i’m in the shadows. I don’t know how i’m supposed to go on knowing there’s this microportion of you that i want to know that i know nothing about because we aren’t ready to face the music. I need some sort of assurance that there will be steps taken to facilitate this change i think is essential to our relationship.

My thoughts have driven me so far that I’ve had completely absurd thoughts where there’s an instance where I can’t go out with your chino friends with you because she’s there but then when she’s not its absolutely okay to come. I used to make excuses that would validate me not going because i dont know them, but i’ve met and hung and talked to all of them and i’d say we all get along. But what do you do when those “overthinking” thoughts actually turn into reality? I don’t think i’ve told you but I’ve been in situation that I presumed worst-case scenario in my head that has permanently scarred me and has worsened my anxiety episodes since. In a perfect world, I imagine a future with both my friends and your friends in one room regardless of their relationship to you or i and i think thats why it’s so important to me to move forward and finally get some peace of mind. 

I know my feelings are valid and it has been reinforced many times. We have plenty conversation about its importance and therefore I know that my feelings matter and are important. I’m continually uncomfortable in this situation and something has to change. Im not proud of any of this because i know that it’s so fucking ugly to feel and be this way and it’s unattractive more than anything and i feel so fucking ashamed of myself having to even stoop this low. I feel an itching desire to tear off my own skin on my body to get myself out of the outfit i hate most on myself, on my own person. I itch to be better for you and constantly feel like i’m failing myself, failing you, failing us for not being able to get over my fucking self and tormenting thoughts. 

As i dig deeper into my core, i find that it’s most terrifying for me because I’ve never met someone capable of calming my storm. Those overwhelming anxious grey heavy clouds weighing over my shoulders or those lonely strikes of anxiety and depression. But you hold my hand and I swear my breaths come easier; maybe you make me feel safe, or maybe your smile pushes the hurricane out into the ocean.

If there’s something I’m good at in this life, its love. If there’s something I will stand for and be proud of in this body of mine, it’s my ability to show you how much i adore and appreciate you. It took a while to build trust, but now that we’re in this place, my hope is that my capacity to love you will fill you in ways you didn’t know were empty or even missing something. My one hope is that you can see past my imperfections and fight to help waver through them with me. I endure because i love. I survive because I endure. I win because I love.

[background-noise-headache]

Blood Sugar

Rip is very awful at remembering to eat, and this time it catches up with him. Sara’s not happy. (Post Season 1, Pre Season 2) (RipSara, TimeCanary)

* * *

It wouldn’t be a mission if they weren’t running to the Waverider in fear of their lives, bullets spraying the air. There were shouts, guns firing back at their pursuers. The occasional swear word. The ramp leading into the cargo bay of the Waverider opened welcomingly. Sara and Ray were the first ones in, followed by Mick Rory. Waves of fire were hailed down from the sky as Firestorm rained hell on the Cubans firing at them.

“Come on! We have to leave!” Sara shouted at her remaining teammates.

Firestorm flew into the cargo bay, transmitting into their two separate parts. Martin looked a little alarmed, while Jax looked ready to get back out there.

“Rip!” Sara shouted, calling his name.

Standing ahead of them, a good forty feet from the ship, Rip was taking cover behind a palm tree, firing shots off.

Sara had to call his name again before he seemed to hear her. Turning, he realized his entire crew was onboard, waiting for him. Firing off a few more shots, Rip sprinted towards the Waverider. The ramp closed behind him, sealing them away, and protecting them from their attackers.

Rip leaned heavily against the closed ramp door, his breathing quick and rapid. His heart was still racing in his chest, pounding.

“Get to the bridge,” He ordered them. “Get ready for takeoff.”

They nodded, turning and running down the hall, towards the bridge. Rip hung back for a moment, catching his breath. He felt a little dizzy.

Must be the post-adrenaline wear off.

That’s what he told himself.

Then he looked down at his shaking hand. He spread his fingers apart, willing them to stop shaking.

Post-adrenaline wear off. This was normal.

That’s what he told himself.

The sounds of warfare outside the ship brought him back to the present. Forcing himself forward, Rip ran to the bridge. The team looked up at him in surprise, wondering what was taking him so long.

“I’m going to jump us into the temporal zone,” Rip muttered. He reached his chair, almost falling onto it as he sat.

“Don’t you mean take us to 1556?” Sara questioned, eyebrows raising. “You said there was a new aberration we had to fix immediately.”

“Right, yes,” Rip muttered, pulling the seat restraint down. “Gideon.”

“Setting a course for February 4th, 1556, Italy.” Gideon announced.

“Italy, could go for some pasta,” Jax commented, smiling at the prospect.

“Yes, well, after we ensure the signing of the Treaty of Vaucelles, we can get pasta,” Rip decided. “

Rip nodded, sending the ship into the temporal zone. They were jumping a little over four hundred and fifty years into the past. Even for time travelers as experienced as his crew were, it was possible that they might experience some side effects. Fortunately, no one was hurt, so they didn’t have to worry about any injuries being exacerbated by the hardship of time travel on the body.

The ship jolted forward, entering the temporal zone. Rip gripped the metal restraints of the chair, feeling unwell as the ship jolted and rocked. Closing his eyes for a moment, Rip tried to push down the nausea. This was the first time in years that he recalled actually feeling the effects of time travel. He’d acclimated a long time ago. This was… new.

Finally the ship exited, and Rip opened his eyes. The world was fuzzy, blurred out and shaking. Rip groaned and reached forward, pushing a lever to silently order Gideon to land for him on autopilot. Without a word, she obliged and landed them in the quiet country side of France.

“Gideon, this seems a bit far from any form of civilization,” Sara mentioned as she left her seat, standing behind Rip as she examined the view outside. “You sure we landed in the right place?”

Rip peered out through the window ahead, only seeing blurry colors of light. Groaning, he removed the restraint bar and stood up. The pounding in his head increased and everything around him started shaking again, threatening to spin. Rip stared down at his fingers, shaking and overlapping into double vision.

“Rip?” Sara whispered, concerned.

He shook his head, the pounding in his head getting worse and worse as he took a step away.

“You okay?” Ray asked.

“You look very unwell Captain,” Martin added.

“Mm, I’m fine,” Rip slurred out.

The ground came crashing down, cold metal striking against the side of his head. Faintly, he heard everyone shouting his name. Rip closed his eyes, blocking out the blurry light. Someone pressed their fingers to his neck, another hand lifting his face. Still calling his name.

Everyone was clustered around Rip. Martin pressed his fingers to Rip’s carotid artery, announcing that his pulse was fast and slightly irregular.

“Get him to med bay,” Sara ordered.

Nodding, Mick crouched down and lifted Rip up, carrying him fire-fighter style. Everyone followed him down to the med bay. To the surprise of the team, Mick was very gentle while setting Rip down in the medical chair. Professor Stein placed the medical cuff around Rip’s left wrist, allowing Gideon to do her work.

“It would seem Captain Hunter has a blood glucose level of sixty-two,” Gideon announced. “This was most likely worsened by the time jump, causing him to, as one would put it, crash.”

The professor looked at the captain in alarm. “That’s dangerously low.”

“It is, which is why I will be administering an intravenous therapy to raise and stabilize his blood glucose levels,” Gideon replied.

“So, what’s wrong with the skinny Englishman?” Mick asked, “Pretend for a second I don’t speak medical.”

“Captain Hunter is suffering from low blood sugar, most likely from not having eaten recently enough,” Martin explained, his voice weary with concern.

“Which for Rip, not eating is his version of normal,” Sara added, an edge of irritation in her tone.

Damn him, she thought.

It had been abundantly clear the first few weeks on the Waverider that Rip Hunter was supremely bad at one very important thing: taking care of himself.

During his single minded crusade to save Miranda and Jonas, Rip would forget to eat and avoid sleeping at all costs. He seemed to think that he was indestructible in a way, forget that he needed food and sleep to survive. It had been a struggle to remind him to eat something, to force him to get some rest. Since defeating Vandal Savage, she thought he was breaking those bad habits. Remembering to eat, trying to get more sleep. Evidently not.

“I would suggest clearing the room while we wait for Captain Hunter to recover,” Martin suggested, looking among the team. “With Gideon taking care of him, there isn’t any more we need to do other than simply wait.”

Ray, Mick, and Jax stepped out of the med bay, leaving Sara and Martin to talk.

“When do you think he’ll be awake?” Sara asked, crossing her arms.

Martin hesitated in his answer. “For most patients, the recovery is rather short. Assuming that otherwise they are well in all other regards.”

“Which he clearly isn’t. You saw him, he couldn’t even see clearly. He looked right past me.” Sara pointed out.

“Perhaps the significant time jump has made his symptoms worse. I personally felt a wave of nausea I haven’t felt since I first started jumping,” Martin suggested.

Sara nodded. “So it’s possible it might be a while before Rip is healthy,” She whispered.

“Quite possibly,” Martin agreed.

With a sigh, Sara grabbed a chair and moved it so that it was sitting by Rip’s side.

“I take it you intend to stay here,” Martin surmised.

Sara gave him a knowing smirk, feeling an answer was entirely unneeded.

“You most likely won’t need me. Gideon is perfectly capable of handling this. So if you don’t mind, I think I might go talk to Jefferson.” Martin decided, taking his leave.

Sara nodded her acknowledgement. The doors to the med bay closed behind her, leaving her alone with Rip.

“You’re an idiot,” Sara whispered, looking down at her friend.

He looked worn down. There were shadows under his eyes, and he looked paler than usual.

The moment he stood up after he landed, the way he shakily got to his feet, instantly set off alarm bells. Then his eyes wandered, searching for something they couldn’t find, and when he looked at her it was all wrong. It was as if he couldn’t see her. Given serious time travel could sometimes cause temporary blindness, it was possible he didn’t see her at all. But he had said time and time again that time jumps didn’t affect him anymore, hadn’t affected him in over a decade. So why now?

It was a serious jump, bigger than most of their time jumps usually were. He was already hypoglycemic, and probably sleep deprived, it probably just weakened him just enough to feel one of the more unpleasant side effects.

With a sigh, Sara looked down at their worn out captain. He really needed to take better care of himself. Forgetting to eat, it wasn’t okay.

He twitched in his sleep for a moment, making her sit up completely. “Gideon?” She asked quietly.

“He’s just dreaming,” Gideon warned.

Sara nodded. She couldn’t pretend he ever had nice dreams, not after everything that happened. Reaching forward, Sara gently took his hand in hers. He still twitched in his dream, shifted ever so slightly, but seemed less disturbed than he normally did the few times she’d seen him in the middle of a nightmare.

Those nightmares were usually seen when she caught him passed out in a chair in his study, or the one time she’d gone to his room to warn him about Mick chasing Ray through the entire ship, threatening to burn Ray to cinders. She needed back up, only to find Rip shaking under the covers as another nightmare, needing very much to wake up.

Having him stare at her for a moment, not recognizing her as the nightmare flickered through the back of his mind, had worried her. Then the inevitable shut down, as he locked down any and all emotion, refusing to let it back up to the surface. She recognized that all too well, she did the exact same thing after her nightmares.

All she could do was wait out the storm and try to bring him back to shore when he woke up.

For a while she just sat there, holding his hand. His blood sugar levels were rising to a more healthy level, so in theory he would be waking up soon. After the long day of running from a drug lord’s personal vendetta, something she had to ask Mick about someday, she was exhausted. She leaned forward, resting her free arm and her head on the arm rest, her left hand remaining in Rip’s right hand.

She was closing her eyes and starting to relax when he let out a low groan. Sara sat up again, looking down at the exhausted ex-Time Master as his eyes slowly opened. His light green eyes looked up at her, dazed for a moment.

“Sara?” He whispered hesitantly.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Sara murmured.

“What happened?” Rip asked.

“You were an idiot,” Sara answered simply.

Rip turned to give her a glare that would have been a little stronger if he didn’t look so out of it. His eyes could barely focus on her face, perhaps he couldn’t fully see yet.

“In your words, I’m always an idiot,” Rip muttered, looking up at the ceiling with an exhausted expression.

“Well, this time you really outdid yourself,” Sara replied, a bit of irritation laced in her voice that could almost be mistaken as cocky.

“And how’s that?” Rip replied dryly.

“Who forgets to eat?” Sara asked him.

He hesitated to answer.

“Because that’s why you’re here. You passed out from low blood sugar. Mick had to carry you to the med bay and Gideon had to give you an I.V.” Sara stated, her voice raising a little.

“Mr. Rory had to carry me?” Rip grumbled, grimacing from embarrassment.

“Well, he wouldn’t have had to if you would remember to fucking eat like a normal person,” Sara stated, waving her hands out in frustration. “Rip, we’ve talked about this. You need to learn to take care of yourself. You can’t just forget to eat and then pass out during a mission.”

“The only reason I passed out was because of the time jump,” Rip argued.

“Actually, you were already experiencing the symptoms of hypoglycemia upon arrival to the ship. If I recall correctly, you waited in the cargo bay for a moment. Your hands were shaking and your heart rate was elevated. Your blood glucose levels were already below 70, which is considered below healthy levels.” Gideon replied. “Without a time jump, I estimate it would have been a little less than an hour before you inevitably passed out, assuming you did not eat before then.”

“Helpful as ever, Gideon,” Rip murmured, sighing. Rip closed his eyes, slumping his head against the head rest of the medical chair.

“Now, I am going to go get you a proper meal, and you are going to eat it right here. And when dinner time arrives, you are going to join us in the galley and you are going to eat a full meal with us.” Sara stated, her tone hard and giving no room for resistance.

“I’m sorry, are you giving me orders?” Rip disputed in anger, sitting up rapidly. The anger in his tone would have been more impressive if he didn’t look close to passing out again.

Wrapping her hands around his shoulders, she gently guided him back down into the chair. “Until you can act like an adult and take care of yourself, I am,” Sara stated. “Your team cares about you Rip, and seeing your leader suddenly pass out because he forgot to eat is scary. Our team looks up to you for orders, we can’t get those orders if you pass out in the middle of a mission. What if we had been in a battle when that happened? Then what? We’d be without our captain, without our friend. We’ve already lost friends and loved ones along the way in this mission, we don’t need to add you to the list.”

Rip looked up at her, a ghost of a smile passing across his lips. “Since when do you call me a friend Miss. Lance?” Rip whispered.

Sara gave him a look that threatened violence. Rip sighed, conceding. “Fine,” He whispered, rolling his eyes.

Smiling, Sara turned and left to go get him lunch.

“Gideon, we really need to talk about you telling Miss. Lance personal details about my well-being,” Rip muttered.

“Yes, well, when you stop losing consciousness and can give such orders, I suppose we can discuss that,” Gideon replied, a surprising level of stubbornness in her tone.

“Gideon, are you growing fond of Miss. Lance?” Rip asked, surprised to find himself smiling.

“I suppose I am,” Gideon answered.

* * *

I’ll be uploading more drabbles like this for a whiles. Eventually I’ll compile them all into a fic on Fanfiction.net, under my username Shadow-might-write.

Please let me know what you think, I love praise ^.^

#legends of tomorrow #lot #captain rip hunter #rip hunter #sara lance #white canary #ripsara #timecanary #fanficton #fanfic