#Squid on spider violence

[ratcandy]

oh if we’re talking about hot headed members I stg Webber and kallamar are nemeses. I look away for one second and it’s almost guaranteed that they start fighting. On Multiple Separate Occasions, I broke up their fight, only for them to LITERALLY INSTANTANEOUSLY START FIGHTING AGAIN. I think this happened three times in a row once. like. GUYS WHAT IS YOUR BEEF ??????????

I can't draw this rn but this. This image

Kallamar beefing with a child is honestly completely in character as far as I'm concerned dhgKSJDGH

#Squid on spider violence #ask #Kallamar bitching about some cult member he's having the worst time with and when you ask who it is he gestures towards #this itty bitty spider child across the way who's glaring daggers at him . and he glares right back with incredible hatred

[hillnerd]

WAKING UP - CH 15

AO3   FFN      Beginning of story | Previous Chapter

chapter word count 13 114

Gigantic thank you to my beta @abradystrix. Check out her work as it's truly lovely writing!

previously in 'Waking Up'(honestly, I recommend re-reading the chapter before as lots of it ties to this chapter)

Ron briefly connects with Ginny and she tells him how worried she is for him before she leaves the Burrow- she had a confrontation with Harry the night before about Ron's safety that the couple are still reeling from.

Ron learns some spells to use in his Combat Readiness Exam. Harry and Ron go to the Ministry for their C.R.E. but are confronted by loads of reporters, including Rita Skeeter. Robbie rescues them with a side room to weigh their wands.

They get ready for their C.R.E. and Ramona is late and looking bedraggled.

It's time for the C.R.E.- it's a hostage situation, they're all wearing the same safety vests as before, and they split up to find the hostage.

Harry Ron Ramona Claudia and Neville take out a team of 3 Aurors- one of which was a rooftop 'sniper' type Auror Ron was able to overpower.

They meet with the other recruits and get the 'hostage dummy' in a flurry of action- Ron's definitely experiencing PTSD symptoms and his arm is doing poorly-

There are 3 'enemy' Aurors left- Robards (head of Aurors), Sealy-Pearce and Musaad. They are in a 'squid room' that deflects spells and dove into the earth.

Neville and Vyse help with his arm that's numb and acting up.

The recruits split up to find the squid, Ramona Claudia Ron and Harry go underground, while the rest are above.

Harry and Ron split off and hear a voice:

"Harry?" came a voice. They both turned to the sound of the feminine voice.

"Was that—?" asked Harry.

"Harry?"

That was Ginny's voice! What was Ginny doing here? Her voice was there, clear as day, but there was no sign of Ron's sister. It had come from a different smaller tunnel.

"Gin?" Harry called out, going down the tunnel a few paces.

"Harry… I don't think—" Ron began.

"Harry?" came Ginny's voice again.

They slowly crept down the tunnel, wand's light being eaten up by the darkness.

"Harry!" They swung their wands and there was Ginny, covered in blood, reaching towards them.

Chapter warnings: cannon level violence, descriptions of cannon dead characters, ptsd symptoms, cursing, hallucinations, nightmarish creepy imagery, spiders, mention of blood and having trouble breathing, implied sexual assault memories, choking and water going up sinuses, reference to dead parent, reference to severely disabled parent, broken bone, characters with limited control of emotions/selves, strong emotions

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CHAPTER 15 - C.R.E. #4

Ron wrenched back from his blood-covered sister, feet submerging in sludgy water.

“You didn’t do enough!” Ginny accused, pointing a bloody finger.

At first Ron thought she was directing her words at himself, but he soon realised she only had her piercing gaze set on Harry.

“Everyone’s dead because of you. You killed Fred. You killed Lupin and Tonks. Dobby and Sirius and Cedric and—”

“Don’t listen, Harry,” said Ron. He tried to step in front of him, but his boot caught fast in the slurry at his feet.

“Bill and George and Dad and Ron and I all nearly died because of you! Everywhere you go, people die for you! You use us as human shields and everyone ends up dead! Ron’s the next one to die becau—”

“Riddikulus!” Ron shouted at his sister. With a crack, she was in clown makeup, complete with clown nose and hat. It wasn’t particularly funny, but at least she wasn’t terrifying anymore.

Harry was pale beside him, eyes wide.

“Nothing that thing said is true,” Ron immediately said. “Not one word of it. Ginny doesn’t think that!”

Harry mutely moved his head in a pale imitation of a nod.

“Fucking Boggarts…” muttered Ron,

pulling at his leg until it squelched with a loud ‘thhhwip’ and came free.

“Here, let’s move before it changes into a giant spider.”

There was a crack behind him. He began to point his wand when he heard the voice rasping, “Got you to scream good and loud for me, didn’t I?”

A claw of terror raked over him, rendering him unable to move, to utter a single word.

That voice brought back every strike, every sensation… It felt like an iron suit of armour had dropped onto his chest from a fourth story window.

He turned and there stood the hulking figure of Otho Crowthers lurching towards him. His brow was as sloped as the last time he’d seen him, his steps as heavy and menacing. It even had that rancid smell of his body and breath. Ron thought he might throw up as that same smell rolled over him. How could the Boggart know the smell of him?

“Riddikulus,” he gasped, waving his wand.

“Bet I can make you scream without a wand… Can’t I?”

“Riddikulus!”

He couldn’t make it funny. He couldn’t think of anything. This wasn’t funny. His mind raced, searching for a way to lighten the darkness that surrounded him, but all he found were the suffocating grip of shame and the gnawing bite of fear.

“Who’s—?” Harry began to ask.

“I like raw meat like you, ginger.”

“Ri-Riddikulus,” Ron croaked.

“You know what I want to do to you? I’m gonna tear—” Crowthers crooned.

“Riddikulus!” cried Harry, stepping in front of the Boggart. Crowthers changed into an oversized Gorilla with a kazoo.

A tsunami of shame overwhelmed him, battering him to and fro until he was a pulp of useless flesh. He couldn’t bear to look over and see Harry grimly studying him.

The things it had said…

Every particle of him wished the cave would collapse on him. He didn’t want to see or be seen. How many times did he have to have his soul ripped out and put on display for his friend?

“Ron, who was that?”

“No one,” his mouth said before his brain could even begin to create an explanation. “Let’s… Let’s…”

“Ron…” He could hear the pleading in Harry’s voice to tell him what was going on; to let him help in some way. He couldn’t give that to him, as much as he wanted to spare his friend an iota of hurt, he just couldn’t.

“Please can we move away from the Boggart? Please?”

He was already pathetic, why not add begging to the mix?

“We can go back to the other tunnel,” agreed Harry, tone horribly gentle. They both ignored the Boggart as it latched onto Harry and turned into a bloody Ron on the ground. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Ron felt a hand on his back and jerked away.

Harry took a deep gulp of air, as if he was about to dive underwater. He tended to do that before an unpleasant conversation topic.

“So,” Harry began, but before he could say more the earth beneath their feet shook, and a great rumble echoed through the tunnels.

“The Squid,” Ron exclaimed, running towards the noise.

Harry hesitated, but quickly caught up with him.

Their wrists heated as their watches showed the message: ‘Found Squid! We’re at a manhole near Bethune! -Claudia’

They didn’t need a map; the crashing of the Squid was practically upon them.

As they rounded the corner, chaos unfolded and the air cracked with magic.

Ramona and Claudia were in the corner throwing spells, taking cover behind fallen stones and fragments of ancient columns.

Through the small red window, the Squid room churned out a destructive onslaught of hexes and blasts, each more destructive than the next.

Harry and Ron joined the fray, launching a flurry of spells, but nothing seems to hurt the Squid.

The Squid's tentacle-like limbs effortlessly blocked each spell, nullifying the magic as if it were nothing more than a puff of air.

“Can’t get anything through!” Ron panted.

Harry’s only response was to yell his spells louder.

One of Harry’s spells deflected off a metallic arm and struck the red window, causing a blink-and-you-miss-it crack to form.

“The window!” Ron yelled at him.

"Aim at the window!" Harry shouted to the team. Claudia and Ramona promptly responded, and the tunnel was alight with destructive spells.

"Reducto!" bellowed Harry. With his final hit, the crack spread across the window.

"We're doing it! It could break!" exclaimed Claudia.

The Squid's massive arms thrashed, striking the tunnel's side with a bone-shaking force and a pillar fell, pinning an arm of the Squid.

The Squid struggled to move, pulling at its trapped arm like a dog tugging at a rope. With a final lurch, it shook itself loose.

A horrifying crunch followed as the pillar was thrown across the alcove, taking out masonry as easily as one would brush away cobwebs.

“GET BACK!” yelled Harry.

Time slowed as pillars of brick crumbled, one brick at a time popping into dust, shaking the stone floor beneath their feet.

The tunnel walls groaned like an old whale, then gave way to the impending collapse.

The ground was gone from beneath Ron.

For a moment he was weightless and his stomach swooped. There was nothing to grab or do, but hang in the air and feel everything falling.

The impact knocked the wind out of him as he landed on unforgiving rocky terrain. Stones and masonry fell around him. He couldn’t breathe, but managed to pull his legs and arms in to protect himself.

The sound of everything collapsing was a deafening roar. Every pitch of sound both high and low was hit at once, surrounding him as he was shaken and hit.

The ground lurched again and he was thrown like a limp doll into darkness.

He struggled through his nose to take in air. He’d had the breath knocked out of him before, and knew what to do, but surrounded by dust and detritus it was hard to feel like his inhales were doing anything.

The cacophony of collapse finally eased.

Amid the darkness, he heard the moans of his companions.

He squinted up and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He found himself trapped between sections of the collapsed floor and a slanted piece of ceiling. He was not able to stand fully upright in the tight space and his arms began to ache.

He was filthy, and from head to waist he was sprinkled in a thin film of rust-coloured dust he tried to wipe off. Each brush against the orange dust only moved it around.

"Everyone okay?" called Claudia from somewhere above him.

"We're down here! We're alright!" came Harry's voice. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the tunnel we were in, but I don’t see anyone!” cried Claudia.

"Harry?" Ron coughed, swatting away the dust.

"Here!" A wand illuminated, and an orange hand waved from a corner of his alcove. There was a small opening; enough for an arm to fit through, but not enough for a whole body, even one as wiry as Harry's.

Ron peered into the hole.

Harry and Ramona were deep within the crevice, the wall and collapsed floor of the tunnel blocking their escape. Covered head to toe in a much thicker coating of orange dust, they looked like a duo of mutant Crookshankses.

Ron could feel a pressure building around him and the hairs on his neck began to rise. Something was wrong.

"Can you Apparate out?" Claudia called from up above. "I'm afraid to move any of this rubble without help. I don’t want to cause another collapse!"

Ron attempted to Apparate, but the anti-Apparition Ward was still in place. "I can’t Apparate. We'll have to wait until everyone regroups."

"Got you to scream good and loud for me."

Ron whipped his head around, certain the sound had originated from behind, but there was no Boggart in sight, just stone and dust motes still settling.

"Harry, do you see the Boggart?" he asked.

"No," Harry quietly replied, before adding, “but I can hear Ginny again.”

"You hear Ginny?" Ron questioned. “Can you hear anyone else?”

“No… Why? What do you hear?”

“Mum?” called Ramona.

“Ramona, what do you hear?” asked Harry.

“It’s… It’s my Mum… She’s begging for help… You said it was a Boggart? Where is it?”

Ron couldn’t hear Ginny or Ramona’s Mum.

A bloodcurdling scream rent the air. Hermione’s.

“Ron! Please! Help!”

He stood and yelled into the dark, “Riddikulus!”

But there was nothing to see, nothing to transform into something humorous.

The pressure from before was pounding on Ron now. He could feel the magic of the place swarming them. They were surrounded by it.

“I reinforced the walls so you won’t get crushed,” called Claudia. “But I’m nervous to move anything on my own up here. Hold tight- we’ll have the others help soon!”

“WHERE IS IT?” screamed Ramona.

“I— I don’t…” Ron began— but Hermione was screaming as she did in the Manor as Crowthers crooned in Ron’s ears what he’d do to them. “Harry? Do you see it?”

He knelt down and peered into the darkness expecting to see Harry next to the opening, but his friend was bent over, hands on his ears.

“Harry!” Ron yelled at him.

Harry shook his head, green eyes wide and unseeing.

Ramona was pacing the back of the room, arms clutched around her middle. “We have to get out of here! They’re going to get us!”

“Who?” asked Ron.

“The Snatchers are coming!”

“Ramona, It’s not real! Whatever you’re hearing, it’s not—”

Hermione’s screams ripped through him.

Ramona was in the corner screaming. “Mum! Mummy! No! Please, Please!”

Harry on the ground with hands over his ears muttering to himself. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry!”

“Mate, it’s okay, we’re going to get you out of there!”

“I’m so sorry!” cried Harry.

“Riddikulus!” Ron shouted again, but nothing stopped the cacophony of terror; it rang through him as screams and nightmares flooded his ears.

“Someone tell me what’s happening!” Claudia pled.

“We’re… We’re hearing things!” he managed to say between hitched sobs. When had he started crying? Why couldn’t he Apparate to Hermione? He had to get out of the cellar! No… No he wasn’t in Malfoy Manor.

“Ron! Please help me,” sobbed Hermione before letting out another blood-curdling scream.

“Hermione!” he called back, punching the wall, but nothing helped.

A quicksand of fear was pulling him ever down down down. He wiped at his face, which was wet with something. Tears? Blood?

Where was he? Everything was dark… He couldn’t Apparate to Hermione! She needed him, or Crowthers would… Wait, she wasn’t there with him. He was alone… How… How did they get them all in Malfoy’s cellar again?

“I’m going to make you scream,” growled Crowthers.

He punched at the walls. He had to get to her! He couldn’t let Crowthers touch her!

He could see her on the other side, small and pale as she was dragged along the floor by her hair. She didn’t even flinch as she was thrown onto a stump and tied in place.

“Hermione!” He screamed and sobbed, but couldn’t get to her. His hands were bleeding as he madly scrabbled for her. “Hermione!”

Spiders of every size were crawling over him and he nearly vomited as their sharp little legs caught on his skin.

He tried to shake them off and get to Hermione, but blood was on the ground,slowly oozing towards him, and Crowther’s toxic breath was in his nostrils.

“Ron!” came an insistent voice from above him.

He shook his head. His mind felt flayed open, a rupture of raw hurt and confusion.

“Please answer me, Ron! What’s going on down there?!”

Suddenly Malfoy’s cellar was brightly lit, blinding him as he sobbed into the ground.

“Christ— he’s covered in Boggart dust! Put your shirt over your face or bubblehead charm yourself,” came a male voice.

There were murmurs, but the main thing he heard was Crowthers in his ear whispering, “tell me your name, pretty…”

A hand latched into him and he could see Fred, corpse pale, blood pooling down his neck and bits of brain falling onto the ground.

“It should’ve been you… George even said so,” said Fred without malice. He was right.

“Ron, don't let him kill me!” pleaded Hermione, tears in her eyes.

His head was wrenched back, and he threw an elbow trying to stop Crowthers. A stinging rush of something went up his nose. It had to be spiders crawling up inside his face scrabbling and tearing out his brain to lay eggs.

He was drowning and gagging as water flushed through his sinuses.

“Sorry, we need to get it all out of you,” a voice apologised.

“Get… What? Weneedta get Hermione…” he slurred. Another course of water flushed up his nose and down his throat, making him retch on the ground. He was sprayed down, and the cold made every muscle twitch.

“I needta stop ‘im… Crowthers!”

Hermione screamed in his ears and he struggled to get to her, not minding the sting of the cuts in his hands.

“He needs at least one more flush out once I pass him up to you,” said a male voice.

His teeth chattered as a spell lifted him into light.

“I’m sorry, but it looks like we need to do it once more, Ron,” someone said before water flushed through his sinuses a third time, stinging his eyes and even the inside of his cheek bones.

He coughed and felt snot dripping from his nose and hocked even more of it on the ground.

A warm hand was on his shoulder.

“You with me?”

He squinted up into the face of Neville.

“Nev?”

“Yes! Where are you?”

“I’m…” Ron blinked around the dark cavernous room. It wasn’t Malfoy Manor. It was well-lit compared to the hole he’d been in. Hermione wasn’t there. Crowthers wasn’t there… Fred and the spiders were gone… “The… The C.R.E. In a tunnel.”

“That’s right,” he nodded, giving a tight grin. Neville had the film of a bubblehead charm around his face, and Ron belatedly discovered he had one as well. The charm slightly distorted his view and made his breath feel hot on his face.

With a sudden realisation he scrambled for the hole they’d just lifted him from. “Oh fuck, we need to get Harry!”

“We’re getting him. It’s going to be okay, Ron,” said Neville, gently pushing him back until he was lying against the wall.

For some reason Ron started crying again. His voice was broken as deep sobs shook him. He wrapped his arms around himself. “M’sorry!”

“Don’t apologise. You all fell into an old Boggart breeding den, it looks like. That’s what Vyse said, anyway. There’s ‘Boggart dust’ everywhere. It basically makes you mad with fear and hallucinations until it works its way out of your system fully. Emotions of every kind will be intense for a bit, so we’ll stay here until you’re feeling up to moving.”

Ron looked over the side as he continued to cry.

The stones keeping Harry and Ramona imprisoned were floated aside.

“Spray down the area first, then we’ll get them individually,” ordered Vyse.

He could hear Ramona sobbing and screaming for her mother, but nothing from Harry. For minutes he waited, but he still hadn’t heard Harry’s voice.

Ron shook his head. “I need to help.”

“We’ve got it,” said Neville.

“No you don’t. Not with Harry.” Ron stood on wobbly knees and unshrunk his broom. They didn’t understand! Ron had seen Harry afraid before and he knew what he was capable of. He had been on the receiving end of punches as Harry was rent out of nightmares, and had seen his friend destroy an oak door because it slammed too hard.

He flew down to ground they’d cleared of Boggart dust. Ramona was sobbing on the ground, struggling against Theold as Vyse attempted to Aguamenti her face.

Harry was shaking, but otherwise limp on the ground, arm protectively grasping his shoulder with white knuckles. He was wet all over, a bubble charm in place.

“Ron? Shouldn’t you be up with Neville?” asked Kevin.

“M’fine,” he said, kneeling beside Harry. “Harry? You okay?”

“He hasn’t responded to any of us, and we’ve flushed him out like five times,” said Claudia, worry pinching her features.

For a moment Ron considered putting a restraint on Harry, but the thought of doing that to him after whatever he’d been forced to listen to was repugnant.

“Harry, I need to get some water into you again. It’s going to sting. Can you hear me?”

Harry stared ahead with open eyes, tear tracks or water running down his cheeks— Ron couldn’t tell which.

He removed the bubble charm.

“Aguamenti,” whispered Ron with a shaking voice. His own face was wet with tears again as he flushed Harry’s face with water and his friend barely flinched.

“Harry, wake up!” Ron said, giving his friend a shake.

“Flush him again,” he dimly heard Vyse say.

Ron performed another ‘aguamenti’ and with a start Harry flinched and vomited up orange tinged water on the ground.

“That’s it, get it all out,” Ron croaked.

Harry choked and spasmed before his bleary eyes caught Ron’s.

“R-Ron?” he whimpered.

“Yeah! Yeah it’s me,” Ron blubbered, unable to stop himself. Fucking Boggarts…

Claudia washed off Harry’s glasses and handed them to Ron. He put them in place and cast another bubble head charm on Harry.

Harry was pale and patted his hand along the ground for his wand.

“Here,” said Ron, handing it to him.

His friend took the wand, but didn’t try to move again. As Ron explained the Boggart dust, he could feel the wet tracks down his face and a gross itch at his nose. He wished he could wipe his face, but that might get more dust on him.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ron urged.

Harry weakly nodded, and limply let Ron guide him to a standing position.

“Here Ron, let me help,” said Kevin.

He put a hand on Ron’s back.

It felt like Crowthers was about to rut against him and he gave a small cry of alarm at the contact.

In an instant Harry wrenched away, his features twisting into an angry snarl. “DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Before anyone could react, a spell hurtled through the chamber, a destructive projectile hitting Kevin squarely in the chest. The large recruit flew into the wall with a gut-wrenching crunch before he vanished into thin air.

"Oh, shit!" Ron's exclamation mirrored the collective shock, his mind racing as panic and disbelief battled for dominance.

“What the fuck, Harry?” asked Theold, pointing his wand at Harry. All the wands were on Harry.

“Wait!” Ron said, standing in front of him. “It was an accident! It’s the Boggart dust. Don’t—”

Ropes were around Harry in an instant, and his friend let out an aborted cry before toppling.

“I’m sorry!” squeaked Claudia.

Ron knelt beside Harry as he shook on the ground, writhing like a mad man.

“Harry… Harry please snap out of it…”

“More water,” said Vyse, pushing Harry to a seated position. “You hold him, I’ll flush him out.”

Ron got behind him, putting Harry’s back against his own chest.

“Ready?” asked Vyse.

“Do it, already!” he said through gritted teeth, as Harry struggled and nearly hit Ron in the nose with the back of his thrashing head.

After what seemed like an endless stream of water Ron stopped them.

“Harry? You okay?”

“Wh-what?” came Harry’s voice, sounding so small it didn’t sound like him at all. “Ron? What… What happened?”

“You fucking spelled Kevin into the wall and now we’re down a man!” spat Theold.

“I… I what?” asked Harry.

He looked feeble and lost. Ron had seen Harry like this only a few times. When he spoke Parseltongue in second year. When he’d seen Cedric die. When he’d seen Dad nearly die. When Sirius was dead. When he’d held Dobby.

He might have been reliving those nights.

“It’s okay. He’ll be fine,” Ron assured him.

Harry’s eyes shifted his way, haunted, glossy and unsure. Then Ron’s arms were holding nothing. His friend was gone in an instant.

Ron stared at the spot where Harry had just been.

The vest had taken Harry out of the Exam.

“What the fuck?!”

“Looks like they realised he was a harm to himself and others,” snorted Theold.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, THEOLD!” Ron snarled.

A sear of vitriol scorched his insides until nothing was left but a burning hot coal.

Who were the Aurors to decide to take Harry away? Who was going to be there for Harry when he’d had to listen to Merlin knows what? They’d ripped him away and Ron had barely begun to comfort him. Had they put this snarl of Boggart dust on purpose?

Every bit of hate he’d felt now pointed in one direction: The Auror Department.

He was going to destroy them. He didn’t know how long it’d take, but he was going to dismantle them, and every one of their sick tests. He wouldn’t rest until every single person responsible for the fucked up nightmares he and Harry, and even fucking Ramona, had gone through, paid.

“Should… What should we do?” Claudia asked.

Ron glared at the group the moment eyes turned to him. “Stop fucking looking at me! I don’t know, okay?”

He stalked away from them.

He was sick and fucking tired of this stupid fucking exam, and all of them gormlessly staring at him every time they don’t know what to do.

They were still watching him in anticipation.

“Why don’t you come up with some ideas, eh? The one person who always knows what to do got fucking tortured and ripped out of here to wherever the fuck, and I’m—” He gripped his arms around himself and squeezed until his ribs ached. “I’m no one, and you’re looking at me like I have answers! I don’t have any fucking answers! I’m fucking tired and this is fucked. We’re fucked and —”

He stopped himself, seeing their faces for the first time since Harry’s disappearance. They were watching him with large eyes, not one of them moving.

They were scared.

He couldn’t stay angry.

Harry was supposed to be invincible. Hell, to them, they probably thought Ron was a bit invincible too— which still felt like putting on a jacket two sizes too small. Ramona was one of their toughest and she was still crying and rocking on the ground.

They were all shook by it.

And now that he’d yelled at them, they probably were a touch worried they’d need to have Ron in ropes like Harry.

He let out a sigh. “Okay…”

He rolled his neck, trying to buy a moment to think.

“I’m sorry… It’s okay, we’re not fucked.”

He fleetingly wished he could touch his face. He hadn’t realised how often he wiped his hands over his face and through his hair as he thought. He wanted to push on his head and hopefully wring out a wild hare idea like one would a wet towel.

“We need to get out of this hole in the ground.”

“And we’ll need to take a moment to recover,” said Vyse with a tiny nod at Ramona.

“Right,” said Ron, taking a steadying breath. No one knew what she’d been through, but he had the closest idea of it.

He didn’t like her. Not one bit. She hated him and Harry for no reason and was surly, rude, prideful, irrational; just about everything he disdained… but she’d clearly been through something terrible.

“You lot go on up. I’ll sort things out here.”

All the recruits quickly did as he said, leaving him with Ramona; All, save Neville.

“Nev…” Ron began.

“I’m only here as back up,” he said, putting his hands up and wedging himself in the far corner.

He wasn’t sure how much Neville could do if Ramona were to go full feral on him at close proximity, but he appreciated the gesture.

He decided approaching Ramona like a wounded animal was best. He’d been around a skittish animal or two over the years. He wasn’t great with beasts, but he could try.

Despite knowing she’d probably hate him more for it, he knelt down beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She twitched but let it remain as sobs continued to shake through her.

“They got the powder off of you, right?”

She nodded and gave a vociferous sniff.

“I know it may be hard, but you need to stop thinking about things from the past. Think of right now, this moment.”

Her face seems to crumple further and her eyebrows scrunched together.

“Don’t try to be nice to me! You hate me!” she cried.

“I don’t hate you,” Ron said, but couldn’t stop himself from adding. “I don’t particularly like you- but—”

“No- you should hate me,” she said with a shake of her head, scowl turning ugly and slightly unhinged, “because I hate you! You and Potter.”

“Shock and horror, what a surprise!” Ron feigned, rolling his eyes.

“I’m only sorry they didn’t kick you out with crazy Potter.”

Ron immediately dropped all pretence of politeness.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” He looked to the ceiling. “Was your Dad a Death Eater or something? Fucking hell…”

A sharp, almost manic laugh escaped from Ramona's lips. "My dad isn't anything anymore."

Ron's confusion deepened, his anger momentarily clouded by her cryptic statement.

"Okay?" he responded, concern and exasperation uncomfortably mixing together.

She brooded on the ground, no answer forthcoming. Fuck it.

“At the end of this exam, either I never have to see you again or we’re going to be co workers. Either way, I’m over this. What is it, Ramona? You said you hate me and Harry— so why? What the fuck have we ever done to you?”

Ramona's gaze bore into his, her eyes holding a world of pain and resentment.

“You’ve never done anything!” she yelled, acid and venom in every syllable.

“What does that mean?!” he roared back.

“It means you are the biggest disappointments I’ve ever had to meet!” she bit. “September first last year. Do you remember what you did that day?”

Of course he remembered. Every instant he could perfectly recall, until he was splinched; then it all got rather blurry.

He nodded his head, but began to dread what might come out of her mouth.

“You lot saved the Cattermoles. The Joneses. Cynthia Dooley. Robbie Reins. And more! I know the name of every person you saved that day,” she said with a sniff. “My parents are both Muggleborn… And my Dad reported to the Muggleborn Commission Registry September the first, but he didn’t escape.”

Ron’s stomach dropped.

“When we realised Dad wasn’t coming back, the rest of us ran for it. My Muggle-born mum, myself and my little sister…” Her voice trembled with emotion.

“I was so stupid… I really thought you might help my family like you did the rest. I kept telling my little sister you three were going to end the war. That we’d be safe. You’d save dad eventually!”

She turned her head down to her lap.

“They captured my sister and took her back to Hogwarts. That’s when they killed Mum,” she said, almost conversationally.

“I listened to Potterwatch every day hoping you might do something to help. Maybe free prisoners from Azkaban, strike the Ministry again, or free everyone from Hogwarts. Anything to help!”

Big tears formed in her eyes.

“But you never did.”

Shame wasn't a new feeling to Ron; he felt it daily for over a decade. It was a heavy cloak he'd worn since his earliest memories, a cloak woven from threads of poverty, indifference, and perceived inadequacy.

Growing up poor in the cramped Burrow, he had often felt the sting of shame as his hand-me-down clothes bore the marks of his older brothers' wear. There was an ever-present whisper in the back of his mind, telling him he was the unwanted sixth boy when his mother had secretly yearned for a daughter. The weight of shame had pressed even harder when he compared himself to his accomplished siblings and friends. And there were the insecurities he carried with him into adulthood. The gnawing fear he was never enough, not as a wizard, not as a friend, not even as a person. The lurking doubt he was merely a sidekick to Harry, forever in his shadow. The dread he'd never live up to the expectations of his friends, his family, or himself.

A litany of inadequacies played in his mind every day, echoing the voices of those who had ever doubted him.

Ramona's tears fell, and her words found a familiar dwelling place among the many shadows of shame that already haunted him. He wanted to explain, to tell her how much he'd wanted to do all those things she'd hoped for, but the words caught in his throat.

He had a wider group of people he’d let down than ever before. How many more people were out there cursing him for not doing enough?

Neville, who had been listening quietly, interjected, “Ramona… They did help. They were the most responsible for ending the war.”

“Not in time!” Ramona pressed on, her words heavy with pain. “My sister was tortured in that school— Dad got a Dementor’s kiss a couple of weeks before the Battle at Hogwarts. If they’d done something my dad might still be… be my dad.”

“Ramona…” Neville insisted. “It’s terrible what happened to your family. But this is not on Ron or Harry or Hermione. They’re just teenagers and it was a — ”

“Just teenagers?” Ramona spat, eyes falling to Ron. “I thought maybe… maybe you were ‘just teenagers’ when I finally met you at the first exam. I thought maybe I had been delusional, thinking anyone as entitled and lazy as you could be a hero… But then I saw you duel, how you flew, and how you lead…”

She shook her head.

“You’re not ‘just some teens!’ I’ve seen you! You’re amazing in the field. It’s like watching real-life superheroes… You broke into the Ministry, and Gringott’s and Hogwarts and saved so many families. You’re good and smart, and I had to watch as you helped family after family, but never mine!”

“That’s enough!” Neville said standing up. “You know that’s not fair, right? To expect them to save everyone?”

“They could've saved my family!” Her hard look crumbled and Ron wondered how young she was. She looked small and he found all the lingering anger at Ramona became brittle as tears welled in her eyes. “S-someone could’ve…”

Ron slowly slid down next to her.

"I’m sorry…” said Ron, not exactly sure what he meant by it. It was everything and nothing. It was a condolence for someone who had lost so much. It was an apology for not doing enough to end the war sooner. It was empty words to soothe someone whose anger and mourning he could endlessly empathise with. It was a place holder so he didn’t shout at the injustice of it all, or the injustice of being blamed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.”

“Don’t apologise, Ron,” said Neville, voice surprisingly stern. “You did what you could, and it was so much… You don’t have a thing to apologise for.”

Part of Ron wanted to agree and tell Ramona off for her delusions. What did she think he was? How could she think him capable of saving her family? It was completely demented!

But… But he still wished he could’ve done it. Even if it was barmy and unrealistic and impossible…

And he had to wonder, how many other families had they let down? How many other people died or had their lives destroyed because they took too long gathering Horcruxes?

“So…” Ron managed to say through a tight voice. “Is it just you and your sister, now?”

“My dad’s not dead… I take care of him when his nurse can’t. That's why I was late for this exam—we’d run out of catheters and it was a huge mess, and then he puked, and I couldn't leave my sister alone with that. His nurse didn't show up because of a flat tire, and— and…”

“That sounds like a lot," Neville's voice cut through, a mix of understanding and sympathy. If anyone could understand ‘losing’ a parent, but they’re still alive, it was Neville.

Ramona nodded, her tears continuing to fall, and for a moment, amidst the pain and regret, a fragile connection formed between them all.

“Shall we join the others?” asked Neville.

Ron nodded while Ramona bit her lip.

“I don’t know how useful I can be, right now,” she said, voice smaller than he’d ever heard it.

“Ramona,” said Ron, standing up with a small groan. “You’re strong; tough as shit and mean as a fucking bag of rabid badgers. Let’s use that and end this exam, okay? Then you can throw darts at my photo or whatever you do in your spare time.”

Somehow that made her snort and a small smile flickered across her face.

“So… are you ready to kick arse?” he asked, finally noticing how sore his shoulders were from stooping.

She nodded and accepted a ride on his broom to the surface level.

“All good?” asked Vyse as they squinted into the sunny street.

“Yeah,” said Ron, giving his body one more Aguamenti before removing the bubble charm.

They were expectantly watching him, but this time he had a plan, a clear mind, and a fiery coal of hate against the Ministry keeping him going.

“Claudia, did you put a tracking mark on the Squid?”

She nodded the affirmative and did a Point Me spell.

“Brilliant. Okay we can hunt it down properly, now,” he said looking at his map. “When we were underground we weren’t able to hurt the Squid, except the red window. Harry managed to crack it. We need to break it to pieces and get the Aurors to leave the Squid.”

“Why would they leave it?” asked Ramona. “It can defend everything we throw at it.”

“Only if the arms are moving,” he said. “For a second, as the tunnel collapsed, an arm got stuck. If we get its arms stuck and bust through the window, we can get them.”

“It burrowed into the ground last time. Is there a way to prevent that from happening again?” asked Vyse.

“At the corner of the map,” said Ron, expanding the shrunk map from his arm for all to see and pointed to a spot. “Harry and I got to the edge and hit an invisible barrier. I’d wager the Squid can’t get past it either.”

“And once we get the Aurors out?” asked Theold.

“We need to split the Aurors up. If we get them in the open, we might stand a chance.”

“If they’re an easier target out in the open, we are too,” noted Neville. The corners didn’t offer much cover either.

“Then we’ll have given them a bloody good show for their money.”

The group grinned at one another.

“That’s all they want anyways,” Ron added in an undertone.

In minutes, the plan was in motion, and the recruits were positioned. Vyse and Ramona soared through the air on their brooms to strategically herd the Squid toward the designated corner of the map.

Ron, Neville, Theold, and Claudia waited with bated breath for the moment the Squid would come their way.

The waiting was absolutely interminable, and soon bated breaths turned to sighs and huffs.

The high sun had shifted and the shadows were growing long across the alley.

Standing at the ready in their buildings made his shoulders ache and hands twitch for something to do. The stillness of waiting let his exhaustion slowly take over. He was counting bricks to stay awake, when a tiny lone beetle landed on the sill.

The black beetle marched along, swaying to and fro as a small breeze tried to buffet it about. Its little legs made it positively waddle.

He let out a snort, and Claudia began to watch it too, an amused look on her face.

The two let out a small laugh as the beetle tripped over a nail and fell over, its small legs wildly flailing for purchase.

“Oh no,” Claudia let out, trying to poke it off its back without touching its little insect legs. Her compassion for the little bug reminded him of Hermione; she was always cooing at gross little things.

He told as much to Claudia as he pushed the beetle over for her, not minding touching it. Somehow beetles weren’t the same as spiders.

“She had a soft spot for Kreacher even, and he’d been calling her slurs for years!” laughed Ron.

“How did you and Hermione get together?” Claudia asked, a sappy look on her face he’d seen girls get about anything remotely romantic.

“Dazzled her with my good looks and charm,” he joked, watching the beetle nestle down and take a rest, no doubt exhausted from its time flailing.

Neville let out a snort.

Claudia watched Ron expectantly, a broad smile on her face.

“Well, maybe it wasn’t entirely those,” he conceded with a small laugh.

“Those two were dancing around each other for years,” said Neville with a rueful shake of his head. “We thought sixth year it’d happen. Dean, Seamus and I had a betting pool and everything.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” said Ron. “Eventually I got my head out of my arse… ”

“How long have you been together?” asked Claudia.

“Only a month or so, but I’ve been mad about her for years. I mean, she’s brilliant and beautiful and has this wicked passion about every single thing she does. And she’s fucking brave, it’s unbelievable. She sacrificed so much during the war, but even before, she’s the most kickarse witch I’ve ever met.”

Theold rolled his eyes while Neville and Claudia grinned at him.

His cheeks reddened as he realised how much a gushing sap he was being.

“Anyway, that’s part of why I’m joining the Aurors; so I can help her out when we get our signing bonus.”

“That’s so sweet!” Claudia sighed, her curiosity sated.

“Didn’t you win the Order of Merlin?” asked Theold. “You get thousands of galleons with that— no need for a piddly signing bonus.”

Ron’s head swung round to look at Theold. He didn’t seem to be joking.

“Yeah, my gran said something like that,” Neville confirmed with a nod.

“Oh…” said Ron, not sure how to respond. Did he not need the Auror money after all? The thought of having his own money was nice… but he wasn’t sure he liked it coming from his time in the war…

“How ‘bout you? Why are you joining up?” he asked Claudia, happy to have the attention away from his money matters and his soppiness for his girlfriend.

Claudia gave an embarrassed look.

“I don’t know… I just… The war was terrible, and I didn’t feel like I got to help the way I wanted.” Her posture slowly fell.

“How so?” asked Neville.

“When I read history books, I’d sometimes sit and think ‘ohhh if I had lived in that time period, I would have helped lead a rebel cause, or saved people!’ I thought very grandly of myself… But I didn’t do much of anything and didn’t know how to. I only worked at a farm with rescue animals. I wasn’t part of anything…”

“What kind of animals?”

“All kinds of magical pets— cats, owls, goats, rats— you name them. During the war there were so many animals homeless or hurt. That’s how I got good at tracking spells, and it didn’t hurt with my flying either. We’d get a floo or owl telling us about an abandoned animal, and I’d go in to retrieve it then rehab the animal, if needed,” she said with a shrug. “But I wasn’t like you or your friends. I didn’t save anyone.”

“Sounds like you saved a lot of someone’s pets, though,” said Neville. “I’m sure all those pets’ owners would be happy to know they were in good hands.”

She glumly leaned against the window.

“Not everyone is going to be on the front lines, but you were where you were needed,” said Ron. “If something happened to me, I’d want to know my little Pig was okay.”

“You own a pig?” Theold asked.

“Ooo really?” squealed Claudia.

“Oh! No, that’s my owl,” Ron snorted. The rest of the recruits shared grins. “Don’t look at me like that, my little sister named him.”

“I didn’t say anything!” she laughed.

“Pushover,” said Theold, a vaguely amused look on his face.

“You know… You’re a lot less scary than you seem in the papers,” said Claudia.

“I seem scary?” Ron asked, flabbergasted that anyone could find him intimidating, let alone that he had a reputation for it.

“Mhmm!” she brightly hummed. “The pictures all make you look brooding, and the papers all write about ‘eight foot tall Weasley and his terrible temper’— how you were like a fearsome bodyguard for Harry.”

Bemused, Ron continued to look at the beetle. Him? Brooding and fearsome? He’d only skimmed a few articles before chucking them in a fury, but hadn’t imagined something like that…

“I mean, you are unreasonably tall,” added Theold with a snort from the corner.

“And you definitely can be scary when you’re mad, but… You’re nice. And smart. They didn’t say anything about that.”

He gave a small grunt. Of course they didn’t. “Maybe they called me a smart arse.”

“Your plans have been smashing,” she said with certainty. “If I don’t get to be an Auror… It’s been nice getting to know you.”

“I’m sure you’ll pass. You’ve done really well.”

“Nothing like you.”

Unsure of how to answer, Ron looked to the ceiling. It was cracked and peeling.

He wished he knew how to comfort her, but as usual he wasn’t sure what to do. Ron wasn’t good with words. Funny asides he was okay at… With Harry and Hermione at least.

“If I learned one thing,” he began, trying to comb out a good way to say it, “comparing your achievements with others only leads to heartache. Believe me, I had six siblings and Harry fucking Potter as measuring sticks for years.”

She let out a small laugh.

“Okay, that helps,” she acknowledged. “What about you, Theold? Why are you joining?”

“Because I’d be awesome at it.”

“Come on! Why really?”

He gave a shrug. “Sometimes it’s not that deep. I would be awesome at it.”

“Theooold,” Claudia complained.

“Ask Longbottom.”

“Fine! Neville? Why are you joining?”

Neville thought about it in silence before answering, “this seems like where I’m needed.”

Neville and Ron shared a smile.

“See? Not everyone is a mushy sap like Weasley,” said Theold with a sly smile.

Ron was about to protest when their wrists heated.

‘Nearly there! -Vyse’

Ron shooed the beetle away. “Get out of here, little guy. Don’t want you getting crushed in the upcoming duels.”

With a few pushes of his finger, the beetle buzzed off.

Wands at the ready, they crouched. His thighs twitched like coiled springs, and the agonised suspense took over him. A strange cocktail of fatalistic relief and a blaze of resentment surged within him as the Squid approached. He hated every person in that thing…

He heard the Squid before he saw it. Each step it took viciously crunched into the ground.

Through a small crack in the wall he spied the tiny figures of Vyse and Ramona weaving a path behind the Squid on their brooms like a pair of herding dogs in a field. The moment the Squid turned down an alley, they’d zip to the other side and head it off.

The earth trembled into a chaotic dance as the Squid stampeded down the alley, its metallic appendages thrashing.

“NOW!” Ron's command cut through the chaos, and the recruits launched themselves into action.

Cobblestones exploded, and rubble flew as Ron and Claudia threw forward their ropes. The thick cables wrapped along the length of one of the Squid arms. Its arm was secured to the concrete barriers in the street.

Meanwhile, Theold and Neville did the same to the other side, leaving two arms of the Squid stretched tight.

The ropes strained and the bestial Squidroom thrashed and groaned at the effort.

The ground-recruits fled as Vyse and Ramona flew around the remaining tentacle-like legs and tied them off.

“GET CLEAR!” Neville yelled as he and Theold set off the explosive spells.

The percussive blast sent rubble flying, and if not for shield charms, Ron might have had his skull split by a flying chunk of cement the size of a quaffle.

The buildings on either side of the Squid remained standing for only a moment before collapsing in a sea of dust and particulates, locking the Squid in place.

He could barely see the Aurors inside, but none were standing after the impact to the Squid.

This was their chance.

“THE WINDOW!” Ron bellowed.

As one, the recruits aimed their spells at the blood-red glass. Unable to dodge or deflect spells, the already cracked window shattered.

The recruits continued the assault on the jagged window, but soon spells met theirs, and the Aurors emerged.

A white-hot spell snapped through the air and nearly hit Ron in the temple. He pulled his head back and nearly lost his balance behind a pillar.

He activated his watch:

‘Split up! -Ron’

Ramona and Theold converged like a whirlwind on Sealy-Pearce. Across the fray, Robards squared off against Vyse and Neville, a furious tempest of spells erupting around them.

Claudia ran towards Ron when a red spell hit her from behind. She gave the smallest of ‘eeps’ before her vest disappeared along with her.

Behind her disappearing form, wand raised, stood Musaad.

Spells blazed through the air, creating a kaleidoscope of magic as recruits fought tooth and nail against the fierce Aurors. And then there was Ron. He had no partner. It was him against the best dueller he’d ever met. He was on his own, and in the open.

‘Get to cover! Get to cover!’ raced through his mind.

He ran.

Ron scrambled across the rubble-covered cobblestones, his movements far from agile as he evaded the barrage.

He blindly cast a stinging hex. It must have hit its mark, for Musaad gave a grunt. Despite any injury, Musaad didn’t slow an iota.

Ron had to climb over a downed wall on all fours to avoid a crack of spells. The jagged stones clawed at his palms, but he ignored the discomfort, his sole focus on reaching the nearby building.

Spells crashed all around, and shards of debris tore and whirled around him.

He finally reached the building and hurled himself through the shattered doorway. The room was a dim, wooden chamber with peeling wallpaper, and offered minimal cover. He realised, with a sinking feeling, that he'd be a sitting—

‘DUCK!’ the command echoed in his ears as his instincts took over.

He dropped to the floor as a lethal bolt of magic snapped viciously beside him. The spell collided with the cracked wall, sending splinters raining down like deadly raindrops. A fair few punctured his arm and he let out a hiss.

Ron's heart raced as he scrambled to his feet, wand in hand.

“Fuck!” he let out as a purple spell was hurled his way.

He flicked his wand, barely conjuring a shield in time.

Musaad's assault rebounded off the barrier, unleashing a shockwave through the room's walls. Wooden beams groaned, and dust and debris filled the air like a choking fog.

The scent of scorched wood and ozone hung heavy in the air as Ron crouched behind his meagre flickering shield. He couldn't last long staying pinned down like this.

Seconds seemed stretched into agonising minutes as Ron tried to formulate a plan.

He didn’t have the element of surprise on his side. They weren’t trapped in the confines of a duelling ring — Musaad was free-range and relentless!

Ron’s breaths came in ragged gasps as the shield's surface flickered, its strength waning with every spell Musaad hurled his way.

‘Move it, Weasley!’

With a surge of determination, he threw the shield towards Musaad and cast a Conjunctivitus curse, temporarily blinding the man. Ron tried to bolt deeper into the building, but the floorboards creaked with each heavy step and Musaad quickly spelled him through an already crumbling wall, inches away from hitting a brick fireplace. Damn, he needed to avoid hard surfaces… Or did he?

His body ached and protested, but he pushed himself from the ground and ran further into the building. Ron managed to send a few spells back at Musaad. One spell grazed Musaad's shoulder, leaving a searing mark on his robe, while another sunk Musaad’s feet into a swamp-like mire, buying Ron precious seconds to widen the space between them.

If he could get Musaad in close quarters with hard surfaces, Ron might be able to beat him. If he missed with a precision spell, at least Musaad might get thrown into something that could incapacitate him.

"Where's... A... Fucking... Bathroom?!" he muttered to himself. his frantic search taking him from room to room.

Musaad's spells pursued him relentlessly, each one an intimidating reminder of his adversary's expertise. The gap between them was closing fast. Musaad prowled after his prey with precision and didn’t even seem winded, while Ron flailed and felt his lungs burning to shreds.

For an instant he dared to look back as he ran up the stairs.

“Weasley, you can’t keep running,” said Musaad, a glint of mirth in his eyes.

Ron burst through another door, finding himself in yet another narrow wooden hallway.

And then, at last, he found it.

An old, tiled bathroom stood before him, complete with a porcelain tub and sink; it was the perfect battleground.

Musaad sent a quick series of hexes Ron’s way, and he narrowly blocked them, but was forcibly thrown into the room across from the bathroom.

The room was cluttered with overturned furniture and shattered remnants of what once might have been a bedroom.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he regained his footing. With unsure movements he began to cast the unfamiliar spell. He’d just finished swiping his want through the air, when it was wrenched from his hand.

Musaad had taken up the doorway and disarmed him, easily catching Ron’s wand.

“Looks like you’re disarmed, Weasley.”

“Looks like it,” said Ron, slowly rising as Musaad’s wand was pointed at his chest.

“Hands up,” said Musaad, doing a small indication with his wand. Ron complied, slowly raising his hands, his fingers trembling with fatigue. Blood trickled from a small cut on his forehead, mingling with the sweat clinging to his brow.

“You’ve been a worthy opponent,” said Musaad, raising his wand and taking a deliberate step forward into the room.

Musaad’s foot landed on a floorboard that twisted and whipped him across the hall like a slingshot. Musaad crashed back-first into the porcelain tub, a loud groan escaping his lips as the wands slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground.

With a ferocity born of desperation, Ron ran at him. He didn’t bother going for the wands— he let his fist fly. Pain seared through his hand, and he was fairly certain he'd broken a knuckle, but the satisfaction of seeing Musaad's condescending smirk wiped away was worth the agony.

Musaad finally lay still, face punchdrunk and unfocused.

Ron tapped the shield badge on Musaad's chest with his trembling fingers, activating the portkey spell that would send his adversary to the same unknown destination Harry had been sent earlier.

As Musaad disappeared in a snarl of magical light, Ron spat a glob of blood onto the floor, his chest heaving with exertion and triumph.

He tiredly bent and picked up his wand.

There was a calming chime, like a muted gong. A disembodied female voice, much like the lifts in the Ministry Lobby announced, “The third Combat Readiness Exam is now over. Prepare for evacuation.”

He only had time to blink before he felt the twist and pull of the vest taking him back to the Auror Department.

He expected to see a room full of recruits and Aurors. He expected to see Harry and Kevin and Claudia waiting. He expected the mirrors watching him and quills recording his every move. He expected someone there to help with his plentiful, but thankfully minor, injuries.

Instead, Ron was met with a dingy dark grey room with a lone bed against the wall, a side table and a toilet in the corner. He tried the door, but it was locked.

He performed a series of spells but Anti-Apparition spells were in place and nothing he knew would work.

“Hello?” he hoarsely called through the door, hitting the door with the fat of his fist. “Anyone there?”

No one answered him, but a pitcher of water and a cup appeared on the small table.

Suddenly, the disembodied voice was back: “Greetings Recruit, Interviews for the Fourth and Final Combat Readiness Exam have begun. When your interview time is near you will be released into the antechamber.

“Fucking ‘course they think locking us in solitary is a good idea,” Ron muttered.

He glanced at his watch but it was dented and the time was stuck at one sixteen in the morning.

“Do you have any injuries, Recruit?” asked the voice.

“I don’t know.” he rasped. Only the sound of ‘no’ must have registered because no one responded to his answer. It took at least a minute before he felt in his body enough to know if he had any injuries. He had a series of splinters up and down his left arm

Ron went to the pitcher and poured a glass. It was then he realised his wand hand’s finger didn’t want to bend around the glass. He must’ve either jammed it or broken it; he’d never quite been sure how to tell one from the other. He could do spells with his left hand, but didn’t quite trust the non-dominant hand to do something like heal bones.

Too tired and angry to worry about the interview, he drank his fill, took a piss, then sat back on the bed, picking splinters out of his arm. He was filthy and in dire need of a shower. His clothes began to cool and stiffen with sweat, and soon he was shivering.

The grime of battle still clung to him, and he felt a desperate need for a cleansing shower.

Restlessly, he attempted to find solace in a thin blanket. It offered little comfort or warmth. Micronaps, brief and fragmented, beckoned like distant islands of respite in a sea of exhaustion. Each time he slipped into the realm of sleep, he awoke with a start, the remnants of his nightmares with the Boggart dust haunting him.

He couldn't discern how much time had passed when the door to his cell finally swung open, its hinges creaking. With wary caution, Ron edged closer to the doorway.

The room he entered was a stark contrast to the cold, featureless cell. Warm wooden panels adorned the walls, radiating a sense of comfort that felt foreign after the ordeal he'd endured. His gaze fell upon Neville and Ramona

"Hey!" Neville greeted him, offering a weary but genuine smile.

Ron nodded in acknowledgment. "Were you stuck in a grey cell too?

"They let me out a moment ago," Neville confirmed, his voice tinged with relief.

“What time is it?”

“Search me,” Neville said, holding up his own damaged watch. “Got smashed and I’m rotten at repairing anything with mechanics.”

Ramona held up Vyse’s lucky coin and a bit of string. “It’s not a watch anymore.”

“Who made it to the end?” asked Ron.

“We’re all that’s left,” replied Neville.

“They okay?”

Neville gave a helpless shrug. “I have to assume so. Vyse got hit with a spell, then zipped away. I don’t know what happened to Theold.”

“The Squid got loose and pinned him, then he disappeared,” said Ramona.

Ron walked around the room checking each door. He was concerned for everyone, but most of all Harry. There was no sign of life beyond long-abandoned beds and drinking glasses with sips of water left.

“I’m sure Harry’s okay,” said Neville.

Ron shook his head. “I wouldn’t trust the Aurors with the care and feeding of a rock…”

Ramona gave a small snort.

“Are either of you any good with episkey? I think I broke my knuckle on Musaad’s chin,” he said, holding up a purpling knuckle. His finger could only marginally wiggle, but couldn’t hold anything or go into a fist.

“That’s not the same hand as earlier, right?” asked Neville, holding up his wand.

Ron made a hardy attempt to temper his glare. “No.”

Neville said the spell, and Ron’s knuckle gave a gross ‘pop.’

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Ron hissed in pain, but soon it was only a dull ache. “How about you? Any broken bits you need healed?”

Neville shook his head. “Surprisingly unscathed! Bruised as all out, but I have some okay bruise paste at home.”

Ron gave a grunt of approval, then looked to Ramona. She was wane and pale, but had a foreboding glare clearly telling him ‘fuck off and die terribly, if you please.’

“How about you?” Ron asked, despite himself.

Her glare softened the smallest amount. “The same ankle I hurt in the second exam is sore.”

“Need me to wrap it?”

She bit her lip, then nodded in assent.

He worked quickly and quietly. The ankle was swollen, but not nearly the purple mess it had been a few days prior.

“Thank you,” she quietly said as he was midway wrapping her ankle.

He nearly dropped her foot in surprise.

“Er… You’re welcome.”

Thankfully he had set her foot on the ground when she continued surprising him.

“You…” she began. “You helped me today. And the last exam.”

Unsure of what to say he opted to say nothing.

“That’s pretty par for the course for Ron and his friends,” said Neville, words more weighty than he let on.

A door opened and out came Sealy-Pearce, posture as straight as ever.

“Weasley. It’s time for your interview,” she said, face devoid of any emotion.

Neville gave his shoulder a squeeze and Ron promptly stood.

“Good luck,” said Ramona. She was unsmiling, but he could tell she meant it.

The corridor they went down was narrow, and his shoulder nearly caught on a torch as they passed by.

“Is Harry okay?” he asked her.

“He’s uninjured.”

That wasn’t the same as being okay, he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue.

Sealy-Pearce said nothing as she led the way, which was fine by Ron. He never was good at small talk with authority figures— not that they typically took much time with him anyways. Perhaps he hadn’t had the chance to practise.

Either way, he knew the simmering rage he felt towards the whole department wouldn’t be able to kept in check for long. It was best he held his tongue, grit his teeth and pushed down every swear and insult scrambling to break free.

They finally entered a small room that looked more like a place of interrogation than an ‘interview.’ It probably was an interrogation room. Behind a long wooden table sat Musaad, Robards, the Auror he had taken out on the roof, and another female Auror he didn’t recognize. They left an empty seat on the end Sealy-Pearce promptly filled.

“Take a seat, Weasley,” said Robards, waving a hand to reveal a wooden chair behind a small table with a pitcher and glass of water.

He sat, and immediately realised the chair was terribly uncomfortable. The back was too low, and the seat managed to slide back in an angle that made his tailbone hurt.

Ron stood, waved his wand and made it more his size and sat back down. If he was going to be fucked with, he’d at least do it without a sore arse.

“Water?” asked Robards.

“No thanks,” said Ron, trying to figure out where to lay his hands. On the table? In his lap?

“That was quite a show you put on in the exam,” said Robards, a wry smile on his face. “Quite a show… Musaad and Sealy-Pearce had said you were good, but I was impressed. We hadn’t heard much of you before this. Usually there are rumblings if someone has potential, but I didn’t hear anything about you from Hogwarts. Why is that?”

Ron clenched his fist and tried to convince his face not to flush. His face gave him the middle finger and slowly began turning him red, one centimetre at a time.

“I don’t know much about how ‘rumblings’ work,” Ron said, a small shrug.

He found himself rather impressed with his answer. He’d sounded sort of cool and nonchalant, in a way he rarely felt. The feeling of calm abated when he saw the unimpressed look on Robards face.

“Would you care to expand on that?”

Fuck.

“I dunno…” he said with a small cough.

He didn’t know what to tell them. All he could think of is things he probably shouldn’t say. Ron knew he probably shouldn’t say it was because he’d never been noticed a day in his life. He probably shouldn’t say he was useless compared to everyone else. He probably shouldn’t say they were putting him on the fucking spot and could eat a bag of dicks.

“Have some water, Weasley,” said Robards.

He promptly took a drink, and used it to buy more time. The water had a slightly acrid taste to it that made him wish for better water to wash it down with.

He had done things at Hogwarts… He’d never done them all that well, but he’d done things! He’d helped Hermione and Harry get across the chess board. He’d gone to the Ministry. He’d fought Death Eaters… He’d tried. And he’d obviously done alright in these trials.

“Maybe ‘rumblings’ aren’t much compared to people actually doing things?” Ron asked, scrambling to put his thoughts together and finishing off his glass of water.

“I mean, Neville’s obviously good enough to be an Auror, but I don’t think there were ‘rumblings’ before last year with him. But he was bloody brilliant at the Ministry in fifth year, and in sixth year he was there fighting off Death Eaters too.”

A few of the Aurors nodded, but Musaad bent forward. “This isn’t about Longbottom. This is about you.”

“I know that,” said Ron, irritation growing. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to tell you why I was underestimated by people. That’s on you, isn’t it?”

He nearly slapped a hand over his mouth. He had to say the wrong thing.

Musaad leaned back in his chair, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Your performance today suggests you have the skills," Robards conceded. "But being an Auror is about more than skills. It's about dedication, teamwork, and a commitment to upholding the law. Do you feel you’d be capable of that?”

“Yes… I mean, I hope so,” said Ron with a shrug. “I’m… I try to be there for people. And if a law is a good one, then yeah, I’d commit to upholding it.”

“Sometimes you’ll be asked to uphold laws you don’t agree with,” said Sealy-Pearce, her face unreadable.

“Like the ones Voldemort put in place last year?” Immediately scowls turned his way. Ron averted his eyes. “If the Ministry has just laws, I’ll do my best. If it falls to hell again… That’s a different story.”

“What would you do?” she asked.

“Probably the same as last year,” he said, squinting at her and leaning back.

“Would you like to tell us more about your actions in the last year?” asked Robards.

Ron knew he’d have to tread carefully. The last year had more secrets than he thought himself capable of holding.

“Erm… What part do you want to know about?”

“We know you didn’t go to Hogwarts last year. Had a clever ruse with the ghoul taking your place,” said Robards, a genial smile on his face. “Was that your work or Arthur’s?”

“My idea, but my dad helped a bit with the spells.”

A few of the Aurors nodded in approval.

“So before you were captured at Malfoy Manor, what were you doing? I’m assuming you were part of the Ministry break in?”

“I was.”

“Why did you break in?”

“We needed to retrieve an object.”

Ron’s fingers tightened into the slight folds on the side of his trousers.

He wondered how much they knew of what he’d been up to with Harry and Hermione. Was this line of questioning about Ron and further proving his abilities by describing his record?

“What was this object?” asked Robards, genial mood slowly slipping into something more pointed and eager.

Were they fishing for more information about Horcruxes? If they were, they were a fat lot of idiots because he would never tell them anything. He’d rather bleed out on the floor and let them have an inkling of anything they wanted.

“A h—” Ron stopped himself. What the fuck? He hadn’t meant to say a thing and he’d nearly said Horcrux. He must have been more tired than he thought. “An object to help stop Voldemort.”

“Was this a Horcrux?” pressed Robards.

“I didn’t ask it,” said Ron.

Robards expression turned glacial.

“You were pretty gabby in the transcripts of your exams, Weasley. Is there a particular reason you’re reticent now?”

“I’m answering your questions,” said Ron, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

Robards leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. "Tell me, Weasley, have you ever had any struggles with your mental health? Stress, anxiety, anything of that sort?"

He knew Robards was trying to throw him with a sudden change in tack. Unfortunately, it was working.

Ron's heart stumbled and he hesitated for a moment, his voice less steady.

“Y-yeah. Sometimes. The last few years I’ve been fighting Death Eaters, I’ve lost people, and my family and friends were in danger… I think I’d be barmy not to have stress and anxiety during that.”

“But what about after? Today you had an extreme reaction to the Boggart dust,” noted Musaad.

“Everyone did,” said Ron, crossing his arms.

“Well, at least you didn’t dangerously blast one of your fellow recruits,” Musaad conceded.

“That wasn’t his fault!” Ron protested, struggling to keep himself in check. “He’s been through more than anyone.”

“Apparently…” Musaad with a small snort.

“Watch it,” Ron warned.

“You seem angry.”

“Of course I am. You’re a bunch of sadists who tortured my friend!”

“We didn’t put Boggart dust in the field,” assured the rooftop Auror. “The breeding den had been underground for years, it seems, growing without our knowledge.”

“Oh like that’s better! You put a bunch of people in danger—”

“None of you were in danger from that Boggart den you stumbled across. The only danger was from your friend,” Musaad added.

“Stop saying that!”

“You could barely restrain him when he was going mad. Are you really saying you don’t think Potter is dangerous under those circumstances?”

“He was but—” Ron cut himself off. He hadn’t meant to say that.

“Have you ever seen Potter behave dangerously before?”

He had to fight to keep himself from saying yes. Why was it so difficult?

“Under the right circumstances anyone can be dangerous!” Ron growled.

“The problem is, you can’t always be there to restrain him.”

“I know that, but—” Ron grit his teeth to cut himself off again. He felt almost compelled to speak.

“And while your loyalty is admirable, as an Auror you’d have to put the needs of your team and your government above your friend. Can you do that?”

Ron was about to snap back ‘probably not,’ when the realisation hit. He let out a bark of laughter and looked to the ceiling.

“Something funny?” Robards asked.

“You lot…” Ron said with another humourless laugh. “You’ve put something in my water and are trying to get a rise out of me. What is it, some sort of Veritaserum?”

“You’re not on—”

“I am,” Ron said surely. He could tell when he had been fucked with. It had happened enough times; the brains when he was sixteen, the love potion when he was seventeen, and then the locket… Add in Boggart dust and he’d had enough of it for a lifetime. His mind wasn’t entirely his to control.

The table mutely stared at him, but Musaad finally answered, “it’s a variant on Veritaserum. Makes you more suggestible to tell the truth, but leaves the speaker able to express themselves with full emotions, and able to hold back the truth if they are very inclined to do so. It’s less detectable than normal truth serum and less unethical as—”

“Less unethical?” Rons snorted. “You lot are nothing but unethical from where I’m sitting.”

“Oh?” Robards asked.

Ron could feel it— the need to tell the truth— the need to tell them off with everything he had. They said he could hold it back if he was very inclined to do so.

Too bad he had no inclination at all to hold back.

“This whole things has been needlessly fucked up. You didn’t properly check the place for dangers like the Boggart dust—”

“No one was in danger—” began Robards.

Ron had so many emotions going through his mind, it was hard to pick just one. He decided on livid.

“Mental stuff is dangerous, okay!?” growled Ron. “People’s heads being fucked with is dangerous! And you lot have done it every single exam.”

“As Musaad said, you can hold back what you want to say if you’re so inclined,” said Robards, jaw clenched.

“I’m not, but thanks for that reminder,” Ron said with a shake of his head. “Do you have more questions for me, or can I go?”

Robards gave a supremely displeased look.

“Do you even want to be an Auror?”

“After seeing how you treat recruits? Not really,” Ron curtly replied.

“In that case, do you have any final questions for us?”

Ron thought and stared at the floor before letting his eyes meet theirs.

“I’ve known three great Aurors in my lifetime, and they were all in the Order. Where were you lot? Why didn’t Dumbledore trust you? Were you even helping fight in the war?”

They stonily stared at him, except Musaad who looked away.

“There were many ways to help in this war,” Robards quietly said. He had a glower that should have made Ron nervous, but he didn’t care anymore.

“Right, well, I’ll take my Order of Merlin and shove it, shall I?” he said, rising from his chair. “How’s that for ‘rumblings?’”

“You haven’t been dismissed,” barked Robards.

“You saw what I can do. Either you think I’ll be good at this, or you don’t. I don’t reckon anything I say will change your mind for the better when I’m on truth serum-light. I’ve had enough of this. I’m off.”

Ron went to the door and realised he had no idea how to leave.

“I’ll escort you,” said Musaad, a wry grin on his bearded face.

Ron begrudgingly followed the man out the door, and pointedly ignored the barbed looks the rest of the table were giving him.

He’d utterly ruined his chances of being an Auror, but he felt strangely lighthearted about it. Theold had said he would get money for the Order of Merlin— that could cover his expenses along with his pub job until he could get employment he enjoyed and was proud of.

They were a few metres into the hall when Musaad let out a laugh. Ron stopped walking and stared at him.

He’d let his temper ruin his chances to be an Auror and now Musaad was mocking him. It felt like a most fitting end to a most imperfect day.

“And Robards thought you gave quite a show in the exams,” Musaad laughed. “I must say, Weasley, you’re one of the most interesting recruits I’ve ever met.”

“I’m on truth serum or whatever so you might want to shut up,” said Ron, fists beginning to clench.

“I am not trying to provoke you anymore,” said Musaad, putting his hands up.

“Okay…” Ron crossed his arms and looked down at Musaad. He’d seemed an intimidating figure, but Ron realised just how much smaller Musaad was than himself. “How was Harry, really?”

“I can’t reveal anything from his fourth exam, that’s confidential,” said Musaad, but he continued before Ron could protest. “Right before the exam it was reported to me that he was quite distraught. They sent someone in to check him over for any remaining spores of Boggart dust. He was able to gather himself after knowing Kevin Gunther was fine.”

It wasn’t fully relieving news, but it was better than not knowing anything.

“Thank you…” said Ron. He gave a forceful exhale through pursed lips. “Have I… Did I ruin my chances back there?”

“Oh you want to talk to me now?” asked Musaad.

“Might as well.” Ron shrugged and waited.

Musaad continued down the hall a few paces before he spoke. “Your performance in the first three exams was excellent. The only red flags we had for you were a wild case of insecurity, and you have a tinge of disrespect for authority. Nothing too major, especially given the circumstances… You were probably a shoe-in after exam three.”

“And now?”

“Well, Robards is a proud man… Deserves to be. He did quite a lot to help our side win this war, but from the inside. He has an impeccable record. And you chose to question it in front of his peers and throw your Order of Merlin in his face…”

“So I’m fucked,” Ron said, rubbing his left arm.

“Well, it’s hard to say how he’ll react. We are very hard up on recruits, and it doesn’t hurt that your best friend is one of the most politically powerful people in the Wizarding World. Potter was a bit of an upstart too.”

“He saved everyone’s arses. He deserves to be.”

Musaad nodded, holding Ron’s gaze. “One could argue you deserve to be too. We’re alive and able to interview you both because of the steps you took to end this war. That won’t be forgotten. And I won’t let your very fair reaction to our tests affect your chances if I can.”

“Do you have anything to do with this decision?” Ron asked, a tiny bit of hope scrambling its ways to the front of his mind.

“Yes. I do,” said Musaad before giving a laugh. “And despite how much you very obviously disdain me, I find I like you.”

Ron narrowed his eyes.

“I like what I saw in the field,” Musaad continued, not the least bit intimidated by Ron’s glare. “You’re the kind of person I would want beside me in a battle, and nothing you said in the interview convinced me otherwise. But, at the end of the day, I’m just one vote.”

He stopped walking, and looked Ron in the eyes.

“If this somehow doesn’t work out, feel free to contact me. I want to make sure you have a position somewhere for your skills. I could, perhaps, write a letter or talk to someone. That’s the least you deserve.”

Musaad put out a hand for him to shake, and despite everything, Ron found himself shaking it.

“You’ve got a good nose for tactics. It’s a pretty rare thing in someone so young. It’s been a privilege,” said Musaad, firmly shaking his hand before letting it go and leaving Ron in the locker room.

He changed, but the whole time he had unsure footing similar to when he’d just played a Quidditch game and finally landed on the ground. Everything felt slow and unsteady as he took each step and changed his clothes. The world around him felt like it was vibrating. The tensile pulse still rang in his ears, but he had no idea of where to move and nowhere to walk.

He felt the inexorable urge to run and run until he was far from this underground torture chamber.

He didn’t know if he even wanted to be an Auror anymore… But he didn’t want them telling him he couldn’t be one…

He wished he could say goodbye to the Recruits. He wished he knew how they all did on the exam. He wished to go home and check on Harry, to throw himself into Hermione’s waiting arms, and to maybe have some of his Mum’s cooking. He wished… He wished a lot of things, actually…

But most of all, he wished to sleep in his own bed and wake up not regretting a thing.

“Fat chance of that,” Ron mumbled to himself as he stumbled towards the lifts.

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

author's note:

Thank you to everyone who reviews- you all really help motivate me and make me feel tied to other people. Sometimes it's hard to feel a sense of community in my life, but you really give that to me and it means so much!

Next chapter Hermione's POV again.

#waking up #my writing #ron weasley #romione #harry potter fanfiction #auror #fan fic

[znarikia]

Finished the third ending of AC6!

Wasn't expecting Bloodborne's squid ending, but here we are. This route as also the easiest for me to complete mechanically, since I didn't have to fight Ibis and ALLMIND!Iguazu just... wasn't a hard fight, despite the sea spiders.

Also can't believe ALLMIND doublecrossed me like that. After I did so much violence for them!

#armored core 6 #armored core #armored core spoilers #armored core 6 spoilers #ac6 spoilers

[shmuzzieheart]

Hope you feel better soon!!! As for a question…….what animal symbol do you think the orange side will have??(Sanders Sides)

Thank you anon :]

I've put probably too much thought into the orange side's animal symbolism. My top three are a bull, tiger or wasp, but I've also looked into animals that are naturally orange like foxes, cats, monarch butterflies, and clown fish.

The bull and wasp ideas partially come from how the other dark sides have animal symbols that are typically viewed as scary or gross (people tend not to like spiders and snakes, and then there's the giant squid/kraken angle for Remus' squid/octopus). Wasps are hated and seen as just angry aggressive insects, and you have the trope of a bull in a China shop, always angry and running after people. The tiger idea started with, y'know, it being orange and all, but tigers are also smart, powerful predators and I was definitely inspired by Shere Khan from The Jungle Book. Also, with the focus on eyes the Orange Side has and how it seems he's sort of lying in wait ready to pounce, I think the tiger would be good symbolism for him. Plus, he could wear stripes!

The bull idea might be my favorite, though. Bulls are associated with short tempers and anger, and are seen as huge, dangerous animals that are used in bull fighting. I think it would work to immediately give the orange side an intimidating edge. But bulls also protect their herds, which I think would be cool for the orange side if he ended up being a protective kind of guy (especially toward Thomas). And his anger is in reaction to wrongdoings, like how a bull is aggressive to a bullfighter because of the movement of their cape setting it off, not the color of it. Also, it would be interesting how the bull symbolism works into his looks, like a nose ring or a more "cowboy" -like outfit, which would set him apart from everyone else's outfits.

Plus, I've toyed with the idea of him having the symbolism of the minotaur Asterion/Asterius. He was trapped in a labyrinth because the king thought he was disgusting and dangerous, trying to keep him away from the public. In Dante's Inferno, that same minotaur guards the seventh circle, which represents Violence. I think it'd be interesting if the orange side wasn't just hidden from Thomas, but sort of "locked away." It'd also be cool if his name was "Asterion" to match with the core sides' "-an/-on" name endings, but later he changed it to "Asterius" to match with the dark sides' "-us" endings.

#sanders sides #sanders sides theory #orange side #the orange side #asks #answers #anonymous #thank you for letting me ramble about the orange side I love theorizing about him #Shmuzzie rambles

[laresearchette]

Saturday, July 01, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

I'll be on vacation for a week, so enjoy your Canada Day goodness. Enjoy the Amazing Race Canada on July 4th  and a four part CBC scripted series about the Lac--Megantic disaster on July 6th and 7th.

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN BACK TO SCHOOL BANANAS BILL & TED’S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE BILL & TED’S BOGUS JOURNEY CLASS THE DECAMERON DIRTY WORK FIDDLER ON THE ROOF FROGS HANG ‘EM HIGH HENRY V INTO THE BLUE INTO THE BLUE 2: THE REEF INVADERS FROM MARS MAC AND ME MOBY DICK NICHOLAS NICKLEBY ONCE BITTEN RED DAWN SIX DEGREES OF SEPARATION THE SNOWMAN

CBC GEM CBC NEWS SPECIAL: CANADA DAY 2023

CRAVE TV CRAVE’S OH CANADA! COLLECTIONS PARKS AND RECREATION (Seasons 1-7) WE ARE MARSHALL WHO YOU GONNA CALL

NETFLIX CANADA BRIDESMAIDS THE DANISH GIRL THE DAYS DREAMGIRLS FOOL’S GOLD THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN GOING THE DISTANCE HELLO, MY NAME IS DORIS HORRIBLE BOSSES LEGENDS OF THE FALL MARIE ANTOINETTE MIDNIGHT EXPRESS MY GIRL THE NICE GUYS ODDBODS (Season 3) ONE PIECE: TV ORIGINAL 2 ONE PIECE: THRILLER BARK SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING THE SQUID AND THE WHALE TITANIC TRAINWRECK WORLD WAR Z

MLB BASEBALL (SN1) 2:00pm: Yankees vs. Cardinals (SN) 3:00pm: Red Sox vs. Jays (SN Now) 4:00pm: Giants vs. Mets (SN) 7:00pm: Rays vs. Mariners (SN) 10:00pm: Diamondbacks vs. Angels

CFL FOOTBALL (TSN/TSN3) 7:00pm: Blue Bombers vs. Alouettes

MLS SOCCER (TSN4) 7:30pm: Toronto FC vs. Real Salt Lake

WORLD LACROSSE MEN'S CHAMPIONSHIP (TSN2) 7:30pm: Gold Medal Game: Canada vs. United States

CANADA DAY IN THE CAPITAL (CBC) 8:00pm: Annual Canada Day celebrations on Parliament Hill, featuring a concert of Canadian classics and recent hits.

NATION UNTAMED (APTN) 8:00pm: Sam and Chuck journey to the boreal forest of northern Saskatchewan to experience traditional dogsledding and snowshoeing; they discover how a remote camp uses land-based learning initiatives to help keep Cree culture and language alive.

PLANNING ON FOREVER (W Network) 8:00pm: Emma, an events planner with no time for love, agrees to plan her sister's wedding in just six weeks with the help of Liam, whom Emma had a disastrous blind date with years ago.

BACK TO ROOTS (APTN) 8:30pm: Matricia harvests fresh bearberries which she uses to make a mixed berry crumble and a delicious bearberry iced tea; she finishes the episode by drumming and singing a song called "Okistitowin MISTA hiya."

THE DEVIL MADE ME DO IT (DTour) 9:00pm: Charged with a brutal murder, a Connecticut man claims his innocence, insisting "the devil made me do it."

INFINITY POOL (Crave) 9:00pm: Guided by a seductive and mysterious woman, a couple on vacation venture outside the resort grounds and find themselves in a culture filled with violence, hedonism and untold horror.

THE JUSTICE OF BUNNY KING (Super Channel Fuse) 9:00pm: A mother of two with a sketchy past earns her keep by washing windows at traffic lights, hoping to earn back the custody of her kids. After promising her daughter a birthday party, she fights the social services and break the rules to keep her word.

#canadian tv #cdntv #cancon #canadian tv listings #nation untamed #back to roots

[d-lone-vultywr]

Homestuck Aspects as animals/creatures (both mythical and non-mythical)

(A/N: Take with a pinch of salt, as I only had second-hand understanding about Homestuck Aspects.)

Time (action, destruction): Clockwork knights, centaurs, large predatory mammals (lions, tigers)

Space (patience, creation): Frogs (or probably aliens, really)

Heart (self-identity, self-esteem): Solitary animals (like wolverines, tigers, rhinoceros), goblins/gremlins

Mind (decisions, logic): Androids/A.I.

Hope (imagination, belief): Angels (cherubs, seraphs, aengus), unicorns, fairies

Rage (outrage, violence): Dragons, other demonic creatures (ogres, orcs), animals with venom (scorpions, spiders, snakes)

Light (relevance, attention to detail): Will-o'-the-wisp, phoenix

Void (secrecy, mystery): Deep sea creatures, both real (gulper eel, anglerfish, collosal squid) and imaginary (Leviathan, Krakken)

Breath (freedom, direction): Birds (especially those capable of long-distance flight)

Blood (unity, structure): Herd/pack mammals with strict heirarchy, fish (especially those found in groups)

Life (viability, energy): Dryads, elves, gnomes, kobolds, forest animals

Doom (entropy, misfortune): Creatures of the dead, both real (hyenas, vultures, crows) and imaginary (grim reaper, zombies)

#homestuck aspects #time #space #light #void #hope #rage #heart #mind #breath #blood #life #doom

[brandonwayneb]

Amish Retail Therapy

Best co workers Olive Garden

Best co workers The Red Cross

Best co workers Astrologists

Best co workers Stylists+

Best co workers Mona Lissa 007

Best co workers Bee WitXched

Best co workers FLABBY MUFFINS

and Tada! MAGIC TELEPATHIC SQUIDS

WORSHIP FURRY ELVIS

WORSHIP TELEFRISKERS FLABBY SCIENCE SKIN BAGS

World Affairs BeeWitxch With Elvis :)

Nationwide Amber Alert

Brian Brianna! Brinx Bird’s and Bee’s

Brian Brianna Elvis UuuuuLa Velveeta

Furry Elvis Booty!

Muffin Fat Belly

Rainbow

not blame gays

not blame woman

not blame irish latino

Nationwide amber alerts

"Elvis Velveeta"

safe words, without male violence

#irish #jewish #latina #latino #EL #elvis #amber

spider witchés verse scissors zee!!

#witch #spider man boobs fatty kkkkkkcake #goth #gothic #emo

"Elvis Velveeta"

safe words, without male violence

SEER seriously SS.. final words.. for safety anti male violence! office staffs.. Amish Retail; Elvis Velveeta..

completely zéro comms.

#irish #jewish #latina #latino #EL #elvis #amber #cern

[ebracteate]

🇵🇸 Aid for Palestine - eSims

Hind Rajab, 7. white flags.

.⚠️🏗UNDER CONSTRUCTION: Hit link cap :(

📌 Home

🌐MY TUMBLR COLLECTION: Vol. 1

When we feel loved as Ourselves /🌍Geography Lesson / Excel in Excel 💫 / Fuck Reagan / airbnb scalpers

Attractions / steal / badass 🐖 / grindset 🔥 / pasta power! / hawai'ian sovereignty / SPIDERS ⭐️ / kazooo / moon's haunted. the wind rises / potato room / christmoth / angelic note / heron / blood harvesting / hbomberguy / knight / going out / transgener 🔥 / Todd Howard / always 🦄 / things / teens on the web / talk to That Guy / folk etymology / that we must suffer / overseas manufacturing / meal / the cultural marxists are at it again / kink / 🌋built different tbh / moderation / meow? / use real leather / EXECUTE / your very language / fuck joe biden / "oh vote blue" / cameroceras </3 / Australia Day / "just move" / MR. BEAST ‼️ / bombing Yemen / do you condemn the violence of the oppressed / body disposition / SQUID MOM🦑 / whalespin / George / Fuck Reagan / USA "vs" Nazism / a healed femur / pollen / Ladder of Accountability / watermelon video / big pigs / MLKJ / watermelon video / BIG RIGS / dad learns Welsh / click here to get slapped / hey man the superbowl / exploding hammers 😱 / smut 2012 / Antarctica blood river / my emo ass like / AAUGHH

POETRY . Reza Afshar . pkmn cards . porygon . Tom Waits × Cookie Monster . Crosstalk Tower . happiness . Zork

UTDR BRAINROT (spoilers marked with "!"):

UT: thyGerson , !artAzCh , !artAzCh8th , !artAz:( , !artAz:) , !artG | DR: pie , stab (blood) , !edgy | DR1: cmcNever | DR2: tbh , !cmcSpn | !cmcEet | DRdev, story.

#wow this is empty. i should post my art more #pinboard

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

Sun and his infected brother

Sun: Please, I'm begging you go to a doctor. Infected Moon: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

(This is essentially the damaged Moon situation lmAO-)

Sun: I was thinking I'd do some magic- Infected Moon: You? Magic? Sun, it says talent show.

(PFFFFFFF A CLASSIC)

Sun: Where are you going? Infected Moon: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there

(Spoilers; He usually comes back covered in blood with a chocolate Freddy pop .)

Sun: Infected Moon, stop! This isn't you, you've gone mad with power! Infected Moon: Well of course I have. Infected Moon: Have you ever tried going mad without power? Infected Moon: It's boring.

(goddamn i got this AGAIN XDD ITS DESTINY)

Sun: Infected Moon... Infected Moon: Oh no, 'Infected Moon' in b-flat. Infected Moon: You're disappointed.

(smh he bit another child)

Sun: Infected Moon was banned from the chicken shack, so we had to go out of town to get some. Infected Moon: Well, they shouldn’t say “all you can eat” if they don’t mean it. Sun: Infected Moon, you ate a chair.

(Okay why would he actually do that)

Sun: *Stubs their toe* FUCK! Infected Moon: Mind your language! Sun: What else am I supposed to say, “Woe is I”??? Infected Moon: Sun: You have to accept that swear words are necessary sometimes.

(He’s going to regret that sass-)

Sun: *Gets down on one knee* Infected Moon: Oh my god, it’s finally happening. Sun: *Falls over* Infected Moon: The poison is kicking in.

(Nothing better then drugging your brother.)

Sun: This is such a bad idea. Infected Moon: Then why are you coming along? Sun: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

(Essentially the situation Sun is in trying to keep his rabid brother from being decommissioned.)

Sun: Stop buying plastic skeletons for Halloween! It's terrible for the environment! Infected Moon: Yeah! Locally sourced, all natural skeletons are much more environmentally friendly!

(Sun would probably laugh at this until he realizes he isn’t joking)

Sun: What is your biggest weakness? Infected Moon: I can be uncooperative. Sun: Okay, can you give me an example? Infected Moon: No.

(AGAIN THIS FEELS LIKE SOMETHING THAT WOULD ACTUALLY HAPPEN AND AAAAAAAAAAA-)

Sun: How petty can you get? Infected Moon: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

(He is the definition of a petty little shit)

Sun: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated. Infected Moon: Killed without hesitation. Sun: No.

(He’s only half joking :) )

Sun: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Infected Moon: Infected Moon: Sun, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Sun: *Sips coffee from bowl*

(He’s gonna get his ass beat for that and you know it)

Sun: *Walking in to a room* Sorry I’m late... I was... doing things. *Sounds of running footsteps progressively getting louder* Infected Moon: *Out of breath* THEY PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKIN’ STAIRS.

(I love the idea of this being the reason they are late to a meeting or something XD)

Sun: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword. Infected Moon: That's why I carry two swords.

(Violence is always an answer)

Sun: What’s up guys? I’m back. Infected Moon: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die. Sun: Death is a social construct.

(When Moon accidentally goes too far in the redemption au XD)

Sun: A theif. Infected Moon: Thief? Sun: Theif. Infected Moon: I before E, except after C. Sun: Thceif. Sun: No.

(Infected Moon would lowkey be really strict on grammar and spelling)

Sun: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent? Infected Moon: Go the fuck to sleep Sun: What gif I don't want to? Infected Moon: Fuck You

(Stop tempting death Sun)

Sun: I know you’re deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Infected Moon: It’s not a joke. Infected Moon: *sniffles* Infected Moon: I’m a legit snack.

(XDDD MMMMMMMMMMM)

Sun, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today! Infected Moon: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.

(I mean... he would do that)

Sun: Okay, truth or dare? Infected Moon: Truth Sun: How many hours have you slept this week? Infected Moon: Infected Moon: ...Dare Sun: Go to bed. Infected Moon: I don’t like this game.

(Okay this could legit work either way, because while Infected Moon would still be the one to demand Sun to go to bed, once Sun starts to catch on to how much of an insomniac Infected Moon is he’d absolutely do this)

Sun: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Infected Moon: You mean literally or figuratively? Sun: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

(see the plastic skeletons post)

*Sun and Infected Moon skipping stones on lake* Sun: It’s such a beautiful evening. Infected Moon, whispering: Take that you fucking lake

(At least he’s trying...)

Sun: Whaddya call a fish with no eye? Infected Moon, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons Sun: Sun: fsh

(Call it either being disturbingly technical or a nerd)

Sun: *holding a bottle* Is this whiskey or perfume? Infected Moon: *chugs entire bottle* Infected Moon: It’s perfume.

(Cue Sun panicking and trying to urge him to throw it up before it destroys his internals)

#fnaf security breach au #redemption au #daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sunrise #sundrop #moondrop #incorrect quotes

[missmaxine2001]

Watchmen (2009) Review

This movie is the best movie ever... if you never touched the comic. in the off chance you have, then this movie is an impressive opening montage with a god awful rest of the movie that sticks so slavishly to the panels of Moore and Gibbons original comic, that any minute change feels out of left field. Take for example how the book portrays violence versus this film. The book's uses violence sparingly, so when it is violent it is shocking. While in Snyder's film the violence is incredibly prevalent, so when it gets to those scenes from the comics, there's no weight to them.

I think the biggest reason as to why this movie fails is simply this, Zack Snyder does not understand Watchmen. Now I don't mean that in the condescending way to imply Snyder isn't intelligent, You can miss the point of something and still be incredibly intelligent. The biggest area in which I feel this is exemplified is in the way Snyder portrays the character of Rorschach.

To explain this line of thinking, I must provide some background on the history of the characters. In 1983, DC Comics acquired a line of characters previously owned by the defunct Charlton Comics. Some of these characters namely Blue Beetle, Captain Atom, Nightshade, The Question (alongside Thunderbolt and Peacemaker) were created by Steve Ditko, the co-creator of Spider-Man (Thunderbolt and Peacemaker were not created by Ditko). Initially, Moore wanted to make a miniseries featuring the characters but DC wanted to integrate them into the mainline continuity, So Moore instead created characters that were inspired by the Charlton characters. Namely the character of the Question, a hardnosed investigative journalist that told people the truth even when they didn't want to (allowing Ditko to have a soapbox for his right leaning version of libertarianism called Objectivism), became Rorschach a diminutive, sexual stunted, mentally unstable, bigoted lunatic who entrusts his life story to the Watchmen equivalent of Breitbart News. Moore intended Watchmen as a hypothetical answer to the question of "what if super heroes were real?" to which Moore answered, they would all be assholes. Moore wrote Rorschach as the one you should not be "like", you're not supposed to "like" any of them, but especially not him (you can still like Rorschach, just not idolize or look up to him). And what did Snyder, a Libertarian in his own right, do with Rorschach? He made him homeless Batman in a sense, toning down his Journal rants, as well as the right leanings of the paper Rorschach enjoys. That isn't to say Jackie Earle Haley isn't good as Rorschach, hell he's one of the saving graces of the film, but he can't save the characterization of Rorschach.

So to close out, do I like Watchmen? No. Is it because they changed the ending? No, the ending is fine in this film(the giant squid wouldn't quite make sense in the world Snyder created, especially without all the Black freighter subplot which is in the Ultimate Cut.), the deaths have no weight to them, but its fine. The movie is bad because solely one thing, a general misunderstanding of the story.

2/10, That Terry Gilliam Watchmen would have been amazing.

#watchmen #superhero #dc comics #zack snyder

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 16

First time reader click here

Summary/TWs: Trouble is brewing. Canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of wounds and Clint whump. Bad, terrible, no-good medical accuracy. Aliens. Reader is an anxious genius with low self-esteem and PTSD. ✨spicy sadness✨

From now on, chapters will be posted un-beta-ed. She's taking a lil break. 💖💝✨

I liked to think I had made peace with the fact that my boys and girls had one hell of a dangerous job. Natasha, Clint, Steve and Bucky frequently left for missions and while I missed their usual bickering in the background, it wasn't like the tower's common room became absolutely quiet. The fact that they mostly did recon-only missions helped, too, as they would come home unharmed and in one piece. The worry was there but subtle - like setting the table and including silverware for the people who were gone on a mission.

Peter's patrols went less smoothly, usually. He was small and even in his spider-suit, the boy was frequently underestimated by common thugs. Apparently, they didn't know how to read the news - it was blatantly obvious the hero was enhanced. And yet somehow, Pete more often than not sported all sorts of bruises, scratches and tears.

Tony and I routinely tore out our hair over the spiderboy's carelessness. The engineer had a funny way of showing he cared for Peter. Once I got to know him better, my brain dubbed them as Irondad and Spiderson. And it wasn't weird at all, somehow, that I was basically fucking my best friend's dad. Tony never made me uncomfortable, if anything, he went to great lengths to accommodate my whims. Tony continuously found time for me, answered my dumb questions and soldiered through the shenanigans I got up to after having too much caffeine and too little sleep.

Sitting in the quiet, empty common room was unnerving. It was shortly after dinner time - the evening news skipped their usual political debate in favour of the battle that was raging downtown, the reason for my headache and wrung hands.

I missed Tony's running mouth. The aliens the team was fighting looked quite hilarious, murderous intentions aside, and I could only imagine the way Tony and Clint would mock them. Hentai rejects. Tentacle porn knock-offs. The aliens were squid-like, about half the size of a human and very, very slippery, from what I spied on the TV.

An irritated-looking Stephen had me equal parts apprehensive and drooling - one after another, he conjured up a series of small portals, teleporting the aggressive octopods only god knew where. It would have looked incredibly badass if not for the exhausted sheen of sweat I could see on his brow, even despite the camera footage being shaky and grainy.

The news footage showed Tony - Iron Man, soaring contentedly through the darkening skies and taking out the squirmy mass of tentacles with his plasma beam repulsors. Steve and Bucky and Loki appeared too, sporadically, being well-oiled murder machines. Nothing new.

Yet, I worried. The little worm of doubt was squirming full-force. I tried to ignore it, yet pacing, sitting and playing Candy Crush got me nowhere. I pestered Friday to order pizza, the team's usual post-mission order plus a large one for me - stress-eating was better than stress-popping-molly in a tower full of superheroes. It took some courage to admit to myself I'd gotten attached enough to be this much from running away from all that in a blind panic.

And it would be the best option for them, really, because they had much sensible things to worry about than me. Yet every time, my selfishness won against even the most logical arguments I presented. I hated fighting myself but it was all I did - not only I was in love with Tony, I loved him.

Even when he forgot about my existence for five days, to emerge from his workshop with a new piece of tech that revolutionised one or another or something else. I loved him when he annoyed the ever living fuck out of everybody, me included, because I knew that it was hilarious to see people getting riled up over totally trivial shit. I loved Tony Stark when he ran away from his feelings, and everybody else's, because he never managed to run far enough. Or he didn't want to. I loved him, because he was like a multilayered puzzle, complex and captivating and beautiful.

I thought a lot about it, more than people would have noticed. For someone as selfish and goal-oriented as me, Tony lived in my head rent-free most of the time. And nobody would find out if I had the choice because let's face it, I'm a short cameo in his life. I'm a fuckin' catch and even then, I can't expect to hold his attention forever. His genius is too brilliant to settle for one when he could easily have the whole damn world.

Another hour consisted of me pacing and accompanying the pizza delivery boys to the common floor. It was hilarious - they were obviously star-struck about walking the same carpet as their heroes. I could see the faint hope of meeting one of the Avengers in their eyes, their posture. All they got was me - in my sweatpants, Tony's tee and no bra. My tits got the attention they deserved, at least.

My lounging was interrupted by a golden circle noisily appearing in the middle of the room, followed by Clint abruptly falling through it with a pained moan. I froze, the pizza in my mouth turning to ash - Strange poked his head through the hole in space, finding my eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Help him, I don't have much time," He breathed and disappeared, closing the portal behind himself.

The pizza piece flew back in the box as I stumbled, jumped over the headrest, kneeling beside Clint in no time. "Bird, tell me what hurts," I demanded. Not that I had a clue what to do. I mean, I knew basic first aid and...

"My leg," He gritted out, curling in on himself. Fear flooded me, limbs turning to lead. Hawk had a good pain tolerance, I knew he could break an arm and not utter a single syllable until he thought it safe to showcase his vulnerability. "That squid motherfucker stung me, I don't know. My whole body is on fire," His speech was slurred.

I nodded, deciding to limit the touching to only the necessary actions. The leg of his pants was torn and the wound itself was shaped like a whip mark, thin and red and angry. It oozed a yellowish pus-like substance, it smelled bitter, almost like stale water and seaweed salad. I didn't know much about aliens but jellyfish stings, I could work with. A short Google check later, I had an approximate plan.

"Friday, run diagnostics." I ordered, taking a deep breath and filing away the fear, the panic and anxiety for later.

"Mr. Barton has a wound that appears to be contaminated with an unknown chemical that is causing an adverse reaction. The elevated body temperature suggests that his immune system is fighting it. I would suggest a blood test to examine the offending specimens."

A blood draw? I could do that. I definitely, absolutely, could do that.

"Bird, Clint, did you hear that?" I gently touched his shoulder only for him to recoil from my hand, muttering unintelligibly. "Pretty bird, I'm going to help you. Let me." My bedside manner needed improvement - with brain running a mile a minute, I babbled utter nonsense as Friday directed me to the needed supplies. Getting the blood was a feat on it's own - I had to physically sit on top of Clint to get but a tiny vial of the red liquid.

A few tears escaped the emotional fortress I had to build within myself. Clint was in so, so much pain - pain I was inadvertently making worse by touching him. I sprinted to Bruce's lab, feeding the sample to be analysed by Friday, tearing through the room in a hurricane. First aid kit, IV, saline, antibiotics. Restraints, too, just in case.

"Analysis complete. The contaminant appears to be acting similarly to a parasitic infection with a short life-span. Primarily feeds on copper, iron and various metals contained in the human body. Does not appear to reproduce or multiply, my algorithms cannot determine the cause of said behaviour. Calculating..." Friday's mechanical voice paused. "I have calculated the approximate duration of Mr. Barton's symptoms. Onset of critical stage in one to three hours. Complete extinction of parasitic organisms in approximately sixty hours."

"Fri, do you think I have a chance of saving Clint before he goes crazy from pain? And have you figured out what's causing it?" My brain was all over the place.

"I have the best faith in you, miss." The AI sounded almost... Comforting? "I am still running multiple diagnostics. My algorithms suggest the organisms may be attacking the nerve endings - reason unclear."

An idea struck me. A crazy, brash, absurd idea. The pathogen was alien and we didn't have antibiotics to kill it. Even if I gave Clint some sort of medicine, it could go awry really really quickly. Besides, wasn't there a medical team for this..?

"Friday, alert the medical suite."

"Request denied. Per Mr. Stark's protocols, only Sir himself and Dr. Banner are authorized to request medical assistance in case of alien pathogen contamination."

"Fuck. Fuck, that makes no fuckin' sense!" I yelled helplessly. "Okay, do you have blood matching Clint's type laying around?" I asked sarcastically. This protocol pissed me off. What was Tony scared of? That someone would steal alien germs? Too late for that, there were plenty of samples all over the sidewalks downtown.

"A-positive, blue refrigerator, top shelf." Friday's answer was curt.

My hands shook. My whole body shook. Clint was laying in fetal position right where I'd left him and the man wasn't looking better - he became paler, dark circles under his eyes, clammy sweat breaking on every exposed part of his skin. Moving him was out of the question - Clint violently recoiled from me once I tried to touch him.

Reluctantly, I dragged the dining room chairs and piled up whatever heavy things I could on top of them, praying to every god that they would hold a trained man trash around in pain. Then, came the restraints. Belts with clips unlike one could see in a movie with a psych ward. I fumbled with them, then with Clint - very slowly, but I got both of his arms fastened and the man rolled onto his back.

"Wwhat... S'appening..?" Hawk finally slurred, cracking his eyes to see my (probably) disheveled and panicked face.

"This is going to hurt, I won't lie. A lot," I rambled, setting up the tools needed for both a blood draw and a blood transfusion. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not a scientist. You have alien parasites in your blood. I'm going to get rid of em," I announced, not mentioning the fact that I had to Google all the things I was going to do to him.

"S'okay, I trust you," Clint slurred again, moving about much more weakly than before. The tips of his fingers began to turn blue and the blood vessels on his face stood out in a pink-purple web. Not good.

My finest thinking moment: laying out some tarp around the archer and putting on gloves and a mask to minimize the possibility of getting infected. I started with the wound first, carefully wiping away the yellowish goop and immediately sealing it into a biohazard container. Some alcohol around the edges, the wound began emanating a faint wisp of smoke as Clint yelled hoarsely. I didn't even react - man, aliens and their germs were fuckin' weird.

Another biohazard container traveled next to Clint's arm. I had a disposable scalpel in one hand and my courage in another - it was now or never. The vein I was cutting was a minor one, but with Clint's body in total disarray, it was an ugly fountain of pinkish-purple liquid that spurted from it. I was no doctor but blood shouldn't have looked like that.

I stared at the timer on my phone. Twenty seconds, thirty, fifty. Eighty seconds, the blood was beginning to have more of a red hue. Clint's breathing slowed, tremors subsiding by a smidgen. One hundred and eighty seconds, the stream was a healthy deep red colour. With a swift motion, I wrapped up the wound, folded his arm, tied off the blood flow higher up his arm with a spare restraint. Clint wasn't moving much anymore; my hand that periodically checked his pulse shook but dutifully did it's job. His heart was working steady.

Compared to having to drain a friend of his blood, setting up the IV with a transfusion was a walk in the park. My mind was empty of any thoughts but for the actions needed to complete the process.

The container with contaminated blood, closed, sealed and put in a plastic bag, along with the gloves and the tarp. My own exposed flesh, meticulously scrubbed with alcohol until the skin became red and raw. All the instruments, Clint's pants, my clothes - in the bag.

The archer himself was laying still, his breathing steady and calm, face no longer looking like he was one step away from the grave. After undoing the restraints, I wiped down every surface we touched with Tony's vodka - rubbing alcohol had run out and I was too emotionally drained to go downstairs and leave Clint for too long. Whenever the booze collided with a stray drop of blood, a wispy smoke emerged. Such an interesting reaction. Part of me couldn't wait to examine the phenomena together with Bruce. The other part was considering the possibility of having a panic attack in a seafood restaurant.

"Fri, keep an eye- a sensor on Clint for me, will ya? I need a shower and some pants," I denounced tiredly, padding to the communal shower. I found respite, however brief, under the steam for a few minutes. Then I found Tony's old tee and a pair of someone's sweats - I didn't care whose. Post-stress adrenaline shivers had me feeling stark naked in the middle of Alaska despite the room being a toasty, comfortable temperature according to the digital thermostat.

Now I just had to think about what to tell the team.

Propping Clint's head on a decorative pillow and covering him with a soft fleece blanket was the least I could have done for the long suffering archer. The floor was hard but I sat next to him, running a hand through his matted hair, my brain an incomprehensible mess.

✨ TAGLIST OF MY LOVELIES (OPEN) ✨

@another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader

[shadowsfiguresfigments-blog]

A good place to die Chapter 27

Warning: GORE, violence, harsh language, fluff

This was what he was meant to do. Despite his feeble human body, all his senses were on high alert. The bottomless anger of his prey tickled his nostrils and made his mouth water. A brief glimpse into their thoughts had been enough to trigger his lust for the hunt. There was just so much to draw inspiration from – broken lives begging to be ended.

He might have let them get away, just as he had done so often over the last months, if they hadn’t turned their criminal thoughts to his girl. He had seen what they wanted to do to her – it made their actions towards the previous owner of the store seem like child’s play.

For a fleeting moment his attention turned back to the energy that had scared him so much, but it hadn’t moved any closer. In fact, it was still at the same place, and his prey moved steadily away under his lead. Of course they didn’t know he was taking them into solitude and darkness. Just a couple of words had been enough to anger them and turn their attention towards him, just as he had come to expect from foolish humans. They were too drunk to walk steadily, but their anger gave them the energy to follow him regardless.

Penny turned down another street and finally reached the deserted shore of the Kenduskeag. It was too cold for the usual array of couples and prostitutes, just as he liked it. He came to a halt and turned around slowly. And there they were, like the obedient stupid filthy creatures they were, ready to become his meal. Oh, the multitude of choices to make – should he devour them then and there? Entrap them and keep them for later? Take them to his lair and have fun? The second option was probably the better one, considering that at least one of his enemies was in town. Less suspicious.

They stumbled closer, brandishing their ridiculous knifes like that Bowers boy he used to toy with. If he set them upon his enemy, would they take care of them? Or would they fail? It didn’t matter, Penny was hungry. Better to eat them and then think of something.

Another quick scan gave Penny his first idea. How convenient of one of them to fear drowning and one of them to fear squids.

Squids.

How pathetic.

How human.

Of course not any old squid would do. It had to be something big, with milky blind eyes across all its tentacles, a huge beak he could click menacingly, and wonderfully cold and slimy skin. Also, spikes. Spikes never failed to scare humans (except for his little girl) and the additional injuries they created were very useful in further weakening and terrifying his prey. Just for fun he could emit a strong smell of decaying fish and stale water – involving all senses usually gave the best results, and humans tended to forget how powerful any sort of scent could be. Penny started changing, grinning until his mouth morphed. As a finishing touch he added tiny sharp teeth to his suckers.

His prey had stopped dead in its tracks. One of them peed himself, the other dropped his knife.

“What the fuck, bro…”

Determined to not listen to their disgusting voices any further, he shot his long tentacles forward and grabbed them, squeezing hard enough to rob them of their breath. His suckers drew blood and the ecstasy of that brief taste almost made him lose control. But he restrained himself, and dragged his body to the canal. The river allowed him to travel much faster.

Surely he could have just warped himself to his lair, but where was the fun in that? The water entered the lungs of his prey, slowly drowning them. They tried to fight, the one who still had his knife even attempted to slice himself free, but the alcohol and the shock of the cold made them weak.

Not that they would have had a chance in the first place.

He could taste their panic rise, making their blood sweeter and sweeter and giving him more and more strength.

Despite being completely out of practice, he had planned his water ride perfectly. By the time they reached his lair, the two men were almost dead – but not enough to not be brought back by some more horror. To entertain himself just a little further, he changed into one of their former victims and started jerkily moving towards them. The sight of them trying to recover from their ride enough to crawl away was something that never failed to excite him. His female form only allowed him to move slowly, though. They had violated her so much her body had lost its shape, with her broken bones making her extremities stick out in weird angles. They had also almost flayed her skin off with their knifes.

A brief memory rose in his mind, a memory of his precious girl having her clothes and skin dangling off of her.

Rage welled up inside of him and swallowed his restraint. With a roar his body changed again, this time into his spider self, and he tore into his first victim. His chelicerae dug into its belly, ripping it open. The intestines spilled to the ground, and the twitching body fell into them. Penny didn’t hear it, nor did he hear the screams of the other man. Again he struck, this time tearing of a leg. Blood, flesh and bits of gut covered his head and body. His other victim had composed itself enough to run away. In a flash Penny was behind the man, slamming him to the ground and using one of his large hairy legs to hold him down. He used his pedipalps to pick up the mangled remains of the man he had attacked first.

Surprisingly, he was still alive, although barely so. That made eating him all the more enjoyable. As Penny bit off his head, the blood sprayed everywhere, especially in the face of the man he still held down.

He originally had planned to keep some leftovers for later, but once he started, his ravenous hunger didn’t allow him to stop. Soon, there was not a single shred left, and, for the first time in decades, Penny felt a little full. He had changed back into his clown form, resting in the crater his impact had created eons ago. The familiar sleepiness after every meal slowly crept up, but it felt slightly different from before. He couldn’t understand why.

Had it not been glorious?

Had he not longed to once more strike terror into the hearts of men?

Their fear had made him feel like his former strong, invincible self again, as he had been fifty-four years ago, before those insolent kids had found him. Now, at least one of them was back in Derry. It had been so long he wasn’t sure which one it was – they had to be at least sixty-five years old, and they surely had changed over the years. Also, hadn’t the energy been much weaker? Wasn’t that the reason why he hadn’t picked it up earlier? A strange emotion overcame him.

It was… relief.

Penny watched as his trembling hands became still once more. He hadn’t realized just how tense he had been, and it made him furious at himself. After all he was the devourer, the curse of that feeble human world, a god of fear and pain, way above those pathetic humans.

Except for one.

The mental image of his girl obliterated all other thoughts, and his body reacted immediately. Gone was the fatigue, gone was the fear, and gone was the triumph he had just felt. Instead another need drove him mad, much more powerful than his hunger had been. It had been several days since they had mated, and his body craved hers more than it craved further food.

That realization surprised him. He couldn’t fathom what had caused that change, nor understand it. She had been so tired, busy with that stupid human enterprise of hers, her face becoming gaunt once more. Penny didn’t want to rob her of her much needed rest, so he had satisfied himself with watching her sleep in his arms. She looked so tiny, so fragile, yet utterly comfortable. Just like so many times before he had wondered whether she truly understood just how easily he could kill her if he desired.

But he didn’t desire it anymore. At first only the lack of excitement she gave him had kept her safe. Now she had made both of them addicts to the pleasure of their bodies. He thought back to the last time they had sex. The urge to fill her entire body, every inch of her with him had so easily overpowered him, making him forsake any restraint. Afterwards Penny had been afraid he had done too much, that he had hurt her, injured her.

Curious, considering he had just attempted to eat her only moments before – another situation he still didn’t understand as well. She had tasted only of herself, and he had been determined to follow through with devouring her, just to be rid of the confusion and the uncertainty. But when his true self, the deadlights, had attempted to absorb her soul, something went wrong. There had been an echo of himself in her, an echo that in turn resonated inside himself. He couldn’t do it, and he would never be able to.

She was his, but apparently he was hers as well.

Even the thought of a mere human holding such power over himself no longer disturbed Penny the way it had before his ill-fated attempt to snack on her.

His desire arose once more, and Penny decided to look for her. Surely enough time had passed. She would be home in her bed, and he would pull off her panties so he could plunge his tongue into her, taste her, as she twitched and moaned for him...

A sudden realization shook him to his core.

He had left her at her store, left her in the possible presence of his arch enemy.

What if they knew she was his? What if they did something to her?

He had thought he feared his enemy. He had thought he knew true fear.

But that was nothing compared to the panic he now felt.

He leaped up and flew through the night, rushing as he had never done before. Within a heartbeat that still felt like an eternity he had arrived at her house and saw her window was open. He jumped through it, prepared for the worst –

And was greeted by warm arms that curled around him. His precious girl crushed herself into him, crying desperately. Penny picked her up, nuzzling his nose against the soft spot of her neck, and breathed in deeply. Her scent washed away all the anguish, and her familiar bony frame calmed his racing heart. She buried her fists in his hair in what he presumed was an attempt to hold him even closer.

“Penny, you’re here, you’re okay…” She repeated the words like a prayer, only interrupted by her own sobs.

“I am, I am. What is wrong? Did they hurt you?” Though he didn’t smell any blood, he still tried to look at her body to make sure she was uninjured. But she refused to let go, and he didn’t want her to hurt herself.

“I was so worried you’d get hurt and disappear. I thought they’d gotten to you.” Her voice broke again, a sound that wounded him deeply. “And your phone was dead, and I couldn’t reach you…”

Fuck, he had completely forgotten about the toy she had given him. Now that she had mentioned it he felt the weight in his pocket, but he was pretty sure that the battery had been empty for some days.

She looked up, her hauntingly large eyes overflowing with tears. He licked them away, over and over again, until she finally let out something between a hiccup and a chuckle.

“You’re tickling me.”

“I know.” Penny gave her his most dazzling smile, all gleaming teeth, and she leaned against him with a sigh.

“What do we do about the people who’re trying to hurt you?” Her voice was full of determination. His girl was ready to fight for him, and his body reacted immediately. The yearning was back full force.

“I don’t know yet.”

“You said you’ve encountered them before, right? What’s your hibernation cycle again? Twenty years or something like that?

“Twenty-seven years, to be exact.”

“So they must be at least over fifty-five years old now, right?”

He nodded.

“That doesn’t sound like there’s too much they should be able to do now. They’re not exactly the youngest anymore.”

“Age isn’t important. They were kids when they first nearly killed me.” He couldn’t help shuddering.

“Well, I guess, you shouldn’t come into Derry in the meantime. I think our house should be safe, since we’re very much at the outskirts, but it would be better if we don’t risk you running into one of them.”

He knew what she said was rational, but he didn’t like it at all. It would mean less time together with her. As if she’d read his thoughts she sighed.

“Guess I’ll have to work out a schedule to sneak into the sewers again, huh. By the way, what happened to the two dudes you were with?”

Penny swallowed. His girl knew technically what he was, but he still wasn’t sure how she’d react if he told her. The silence expanded, lasting way too long to be broken. Finally, she put her hands on his cheek.

“Did you eat them?”

Penny didn’t want to look at her. What if she’d turn away in disgust? Somehow his feast seemed much less glorious all of a sudden. He nodded.

“They were bad people?”

He nodded again, and another long silence followed. Jumbled thoughts ran through his mind. Was she put off? Would she no longer be his?

What would he do if she no longer wanted him?

At last, she spoke, and her words pierced the core of his existence.

#pennywise fanficition #pennywise #agptd

[sawyersthot--a]

Subject Apex

Summary: Evelyn is reunited with her mother

Warning: Heavy gore and violence

a/n: This is basically a re-telling of Bioshock 2′s opening, replacing Evelyn with Subject Delta.

Evelyn awoke with a violent screech, thrashing in the darkness, her helmet’s porthole blazing red. Rough breathing could be heard beneath the mask as her head snapped side to side, realizing slowly that the events she experienced were only memories re-manifesting as nightmares. She crawled backward on all fours, staring out the window to the ocean. 

She'd created this little hiding spot for herself some while ago, a nest was messily organized in the corner of tattered curtains, pillows and blankets. Scattered on the floor were various crayons and markers that the little sisters who visited her used. As well as some various empty or half filled ADAM and EVE tubes. The hideout was safely nestled into the very back of one of the larger vent passages, one entrance blocked completely by boxes so the only entrance was directly in front of her. Tilting her head, she listened to the various noises of the ocean and Rapture. The porthole had faded to green now, signifying she had fully calmed after her distressing memories. A gentle, feminine groan lifted from Evelyn as her lithe body began to crawl out of the rusted, coral overgrown vent.

Her head popped out first, peeking around for any sign of potential assailants but with a certain lack of real concern. Who in their right mind would dare to attack the apex predator of Rapture?

She crept down from the vent slowly, pushing herself off of the ground and then swiftly darting down the hallway. Only the green blur that resonated from the porthole was visible now as she traversed the halls she'd been roaming since she was young. It was only a short walk for her to one of the other vents, her hand placed on the side as she pressed onto the tips of her toes to poke her head in. 

A soft howl echoed down the tunnel, trying to crawl up a little further into the vent. But, she didn't get the chance before the dark-haired, yellow-eyed little girl poked her head out to Evelyn, nose-to-nose with her. "Hello, Evvy!" She chirped to the elder girl. Evelyn gave a soft purr in return as she backed down from the vent and held her arms out to the girl. With a few grunts, Eleanor managed to push herself out and jump down into her arms, where she was promptly set on the ground. Eleanor grinned broadly as she held up a small doll that appeared to be dressed in wedding attire to her.

"Look, it's you, Evvy!" The creature's head tilted, purring curiously as she reached a hand towards the doll to brush over its veil. "Let's go play!" She squeaked, wrapping her tiny hand around one of Evelyn's gloved fingers and dragged her down the opposite hallway. Evelyn followed obediently, like a dog walking after its owner. She caught a brief glimpse of her reflection in the window, but was distracted by a giant squid as it roamed right past the window with not a care in the world seemingly. 

"Angels, Evvy!" Eleanor grinned excitedly, bouncing in place before releasing her elder sibling's hand and darting down the hall.

Evelyn called after her gently with a series of purrs and growls, porthole suddenly taking on a shade of yellow as her anxiety grew over not having Eleanor in her direct line of sight. She began to follow after the girl, peeking around the corner of the hallway and calling down it with another purr but she got no response. With the lack of notification on her little sister's current whereabouts, a dis-pleased groan rumbled deeply in her chest. She turned the corner, walking towards what was one the ballroom but was now partially flooded from busted pipes and cracks in the windows.

A piercing scream rose throughout the air and made Evelyn alert, fear struck her swiftly upon recognizing the voice as Eleanor's. She raced down the hall after the sound, calling out a loud, ear-bleeding screech as she rounded through the doors she presumed Eleanor had gone through. It was at the very top of a balcony, two stair wells down either side. An ADAM filled body in the center of the floor which she presumed is what lured Eleanor here in the first place. 

Splicers surrounded her, wrenches and pipes in hand. A deep, angered scream ripped from the Big Sister's lungs, the sound causing the group below to yell out in pain and grab at their ears as they became disoriented by the sounds. 

"HELP! It's mean!" Eleanor yelled out promptly, tripping over herself to get away from the splicers. A snarl tore from Evelyn as she leapt from the balcony. The harvesting needle on her arm extending upon flexing her bicep. 

One of the former humans screeched as he foolishly tried to rush her and slam the wrench in his hand into her. Her hand shot out to wrap around his neck before he could land the blow, lifting him into the air as if he were nothing more than a paper weight. He gasped and clawed at her hand, trying to get it off of him but failed to do so before Evelyn put down more pressure and heard a vomit inducing snap as he went limp. She tossed the body to the side before lunging for the other splicer, needle penetrating through their torso and draining the ADAM enriched blood into her.

"Try this on for size, bitch" the comrade of the now deceased man and woman growled. 

Evelyn had just looked up when the hypnotized big daddy roared and barreled into her. Its large hand wrapped around her helmet and lifting her off the ground. A crunch was heard before the glass of the porthole cracked into spider-web formations. 

Evelyn screeched in pain and heard Eleanor scream in fear, "Evvy!" The young girl tried to race to her protector’s but was promptly grabbed by a blonde woman she didn't recognize and yanked backward. The daddy proceeded to groan loudly and slam her smaller body down into the ground, watching as she flopped across it and clawed at her face. With a cracked helmet, her oxygen supply went down significantly, one of her blazing yellow eyes just barely visible now.

"It's alright, she's harmless now" a voice that was all too familiar spoke to her, eyes tearing over to the owner of said voice. Sofia stared down at the monster she had created, the being that was once her daughter. "My dearest Evelyn...", she began, shaking her head and kneeling down before her, "what have you become, my child?" 

Evelyn screeched and weakly reached an arm out towards her, collapsing just in front of her, not phasing Sofia in the least. "You have failed to do the one thing I entrusted you with. But then again, that's always what you've been, hasn't it? A failure, a...", she paused, looking for the words, "my first project. Not unlike an artist's first true painting. Messy and grisly." Sofia shook her head as another weak, broken noise pulled from Evelyn while she stood. "You've out-lived your purpose", she turned away, taking Eleanor's hand as the little girl still looked on in horror at her sister, reaching for her helplessly. "Kill her" she spoke to the Big Daddy who groaned as he walked forward, bringing his large, metal foot up over Evelyn's head. The teen futilely tried to squirm away now. Right when the Daddy brought his foot down onto her head, she caught a glimpse of Eleanor lunging out of Sophia's grip and toward her, screaming loudly.

"EVVY!"

#writing #my writing #bioshock 2 #evelyn lamb #eleanor lamb #sofia lamb #reimagining #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: swearing #tw: death

[myshittybrainwontshutup]

I had a dream where I was wandering in the woods and I found some weird abandoned facility. The Dream Works logo was painted on the side and the door was open, so I just sauntered inside. There were tons of big, drab concrete rooms all full of toppled over desks. Giant pillars held up the ceiling and plunged down into the earth. I thought that this place would be a magnet for graffiti artists, or just delinquent teens in general, but this place looked untouched by everything except me. There wasn’t even rat poop or cockroaches to point to a sign of life. Like the dumbass I am, I started walking down the staircase that wrapped around one of the concrete pillars. On the forth or so level down it stopped being the same old rooms full of desks and started being bedrooms and showers. There were literally hundreds of bunk beds, all with the same cheap white sheets. I investigated the bathrooms and found that the showers still worked and even better, they still had hot water. I guessed this place had an independent generator and the dim ceiling lights supported my hypothesis.

I decided I needed a shower and scrubbed down, then wandered over to one of the beds for a nap. (Yeah, sleeping in your dream is kind of weird, but I do it rather routinely. I guess I’m just that tired.)

My thought process for using the beds is that they may be dusty, but I hadn’t seen any evidence of any other life, so bedbugs were unlikely.

After I woke up I pulled on my clothes, which I vividly remember being a burnt orange tank top patterned with tiny carrots, high waisted jorts and my three-sizes-too-big black jacket.

I kept going all the way down to the bottom level where I was confused to hear talking. I crept around the corner and saw this old dude in a lab coat and these two blond collage age girls drawing a circle on the ground. The amount of sigils inside the circle made me think that this couldn’t be anything good, but before I could really do anything about it one of the girls spotted me. She shouted, “Hey!” and pointed at me. I didn’t waste any time getting the hell out of dodge, and I heard the old dude yell, “Stop them! No one must know!”

The two girls started chasing me. Because I don’t ever skip leg day, not even in my dreams, I made it up the stairs before they could. I made it through the door and almost made it back to the woods, but instead of going forward and disappearing into the flora I was suddenly going up. Out of freaking no where, I was caught in a tractor beam and being towed up into a space ship. I didn’t get to see if the girls had seen me getting abducted, but my prior circumstances were quickly ripped out of my head as I was blasted with water. Even though I’d just taken a shower I guess I was too dusty for these aliens to handle. I was “disinfected” and my wet clothes were confiscated and replaced with a very unflattering blue-gray jumpsuit. These particular aliens were very octopus like, but slightly taller than humans and their version of an invasion force was capitalism.

Instead of being forced into hard labor I was forced into a job that is actually hell to me. An “internship” as they called it, where I had hours of paperwork to do. Paperwork is a punishment worse than hell to me, so I did the absolute minimum effort I could get away with. I was set up at a station with three other people. One was Merida from Brave, one was Miles from into the spider verse and one was Stanford from gravity falls. I didn’t let on that I knew them, but I did become pretty close with them. While we were just doing paperwork together time was sped up, but as soon as we were called out to test a new piece of tech that the squid aliens had invented time resumed its normal pace. We were brought out to this floating asteroid that seemed to have an atmosphere that I guess was their testing site. One squid alien on a three piece suit came along to supervise us. The thing we were supposed to test was a Portal esc wormhole gun. I had to keep from laughing my ass off for reasons that will become apparent later. The squid fired it off, setting of each side of the portal in mid air about twenty feet apart, gave Merida a rope and instructed her to walk trough it. Reluctantly she agreed and walked through. The portal didn’t immediately close or collapse as she entered and she wasn’t lost in some in-between place, so the squid was ecstatic. However, Merida and the squid pulling on the rope was apparently enough to rip a hole in space and time. The rip started to drag Merida and the squid in, but Miles, Ford and I were standing far enough away. Miles managed to pull Merida out of range of the rip’s suction, but the squid fell into the gaping black maw. It was growing larger by the second and I knew we would be consumed before long unless I did something.

One of my recurring powers in my dreams is that I can open my own portals, in addition to some others. I turned around and opened my own portal back to the woods I was wandering earlier and had everyone run through. I closed it off as soon as we were all through. We landed on a dirt road that was at least sixty percent mud. It must’ve rained since I was abducted.

Ford immediately turned to me, his eyes wide.

“How did you do that?!” He demanded. I shrugged.

“I just... can?” I said. I actually have a reason, but I didn’t feel like telling him. I opened another portal to the room where our stuff was being kept on the ship and let it just fall through into my arms. We each headed into the woods to suit up in our normal clothes, though Merida forwent a dress for jeans and a tee shirt. We started walking down the road as quite the marry band until we found a homestead. No electricity, no generator, just one small shack and the sound of a lot of voices. Out back was a pigsty and it looked like this place hadn’t been up kept in years. The others wanted to take the stealthy approach, but I just kicked in the front door. There were a bunch of middle aged men sitting around drinking, about fifteen children ages nine to four and six toddlers, all huddling together in the corner around the one teenager who seemed to be about sixteen. Most of them didn’t have clothes any more sophisticated than a potato sack, and all of them had bruises. The teenage girl had a black eye. Cold rage bubbled up within me. I have very strong opinions about how children should be treated, namely, they should be treated with dignity and respect, no matter what age they are and no one ever has the right to hurt them. Something told me that there used to be more older women, but they’d died due to either violence or childbirth.

The biggest beefiest guy stood up and demanded to know who I was and what I wanted. I could tell he wasn’t seeing me as a threat due to my appearance. I mean, I’m exactly five feet tall, very feminine and not exactly buff. I demanded to fight him for the children and he laughed. Until I summoned my weapon. In my dreams I also can summon quite the arsenal. This time, I summoned my whip made of razor wire and cracked it right across his face. He immediately grabbed a huge black iron sword off the table and rushed me. I sidestepped out of the front door and cracked my whip again. It happened extremely fast so I’m not sure on the specifics of the fight, but I do know it ended with my whip wrapping around his throat. One quick tug and his head was on the ground as his body slumped to the side. All the other men, enraged that I’d killed their buddy grabbed their own swords. My whip is an awesome weapon, but it’s only good against one opponent. I tossed it aside and it burst into glitter, just before I summoned my sword.

I really like my sword. It’s a short Damascus steel blade with a gold gilded hilt and a ruby pommel. I’ve been using it for a really long time and I’ve gotten really skilled with it.

These guys clearly didn’t expect me to hold my own against all of them, but in combination with my portal magic I’m a formidable fighter in my dreams. For some odd reason the thing that ended the fight was a misstep from one of the men that lead to me accidentally chopping off the toe of his boot and the toe of his foot. He fell to the ground crying and demanded that everything stop. They agreed to leave and wandered back down the road, carrying their now toeless friend.

I went inside and found a yellow construction paper crown sitting on the table. I picked it up, put it on my head and muttered, “I’m the king.” With a big fat smile. I was mobbed by the little boys that demanded I teach them how to sword fight, the sixteen year old thanked me for getting rid of the people who hurt her, Merida asked where I learned to fight like that. Everyone else hung on the sidelines, not exactly liking that I’d just straight up killed and maimed on a whim. Ford was mostly interested in how I could summon and dismiss weapons on a whim.

“That’s not all I can do!” I grinned and stepped back outside. I told the teenager to release the pigs into the woods and told the kids to grab any items that they would want to take with them. Then with the three other interns watching, I waved my hand and an oak tree started to grow out of the ground. It grew so big that at a glance you could think it was hundreds of years old. With a snap of my fingers a massive treehouse constructed itself in the cradle of the tree’s uppermost branches. I subconsciously made it Halloween themed because it’s my favorite holiday. There were leaf streamers and grinning jack-o’-lanterns all over the place. One more wave of my hand and it was fully stocked with food and clothes and solar panels for its own electricity. I instructed the kids to climb up. The bigger kids carried the toddlers up. After we were all on board I snapped again and the tree started moving, walking along on its roots. I headed up into the main dining room and tried to add a little more decor, but it wouldn’t work. The plate of Halloween themed sugar cookies started laughing at me.

“What the-“ Ford started.

“I’m loosing control. I’m waking up.” I interrupted.

“What? Waking up?” Ford asked. I pulled him in with an arm around the shoulders.

“Listen, I don’t have much more time, so you’re in charge. I may be the most powerful here, but you’re the smartest. Keep them safe.” I said and put my paper crown on his head.

And that’s when I woke up.

#dreams #dream journal #dream #slight gore #true story #you could probably do a whole psycological analysis of this and come up with a compleate personality prophile #but i dare you to tell me something i dont already know #short story #all critques welcome

[antimatterpod]

Saru goes home again. We start out agreeing we don't have much to say about this episode, then ... talk even more than usual, covering such ground as:

Can we come up with a different Jeff Goldblum gif for every episode this season? 

This whole episode is exactly why we need the Prime Directive.

Kelpien worldbuilding.

Who is the Red Angel? What does it want? Who is it working for? 

Our weekly semi-related digression into other media takes us into video game territory and also Naboo.

Anika has very strong opinions about predestination paradoxes. We both have a lot of feelings about sickbay design and best practices when it comes to mental health care in space. 

For the benefit of our many listeners who are entomologists, Liz would like to emphasise that she does actually know that spiders are not insects. 

The jury is still out re: Lorca and whales, though. 

Links: 

The Synthesis ending from Mass Effect 3 (note: violence, disturbing imagery, spoilers)

@lorcaswhisky‘s consideration of the Aeschylus quote and its implications

#star trek: discovery #pod

[ao3feed-starker]

by feyrelay

The Starker High Fantasy AU you didn't know you needed.

It has a fantasy map. It has noble houses and heraldry. It has a giant squid, a dastardly plot, intrigue, and courtship.

Why? 'Cause I'm extra AF.

Words: 1964, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, High Fantasy, Nobility, Dragons, Magic

#ao3feed-starker #ao3feed #fanfic #mcu #starker #peterxtony #tonyxpeter #ao3