#doom has been touched during his missions and it found it liked him

[jekyllnahyena]

what are you?

                                             Doom.

(welcome to my accidental avatar of unspeakable cosmic power idea. still the biggest sweetheart you’ll ever meet though)

#commander doom #its not even the just the force #doom has been touched during his missions and it found it liked him #now doom glows sometimes #and has a massive sword #because i wanted him to have one #palps Wishes honestly #ajekyllsart

[gojot-t]

You remember the first time that you brushed Suguru's hair was during a film marathon on your doom.

Satoru and Shoko are already sleeping and the film was long forgotten. He had taken his hair out of its usual bun, the strands falling down his shoulders in such a pretty way that you almost thought it was unfair, before looking at you and giving you the kindest smile you had ever seen in your life. "Want to do it?", was all he needed to ask.

At that time, you thought your heart would come out of your mouth. Face hot with embarrassment and hands shaking, every time your fingers ran through the soft strands, the smell of his shampoo entered your nose.

At the end of the night, as he laid his face on your shoulder, soft breaths on your neck making your skin shiver, he chuckled lightly at how quickly your heart was beating before whispering a soft "Goodnight." Just for you, with the intimacy of two lovers. You knew you were lost in love with the man.

After that, It became common for you to exchange touches and glances while no one was looking, like two silly teenagers in love.

But you think the most memorable one was during the summer of the second year. The boys had just arrived from a mission and something was off. You didn't know the details of what had happened, only that the vessel that was going to merge with Master Tengen had been murdered before that could happen.

“Riko.” Was all Suguru said when he came back, bruised and with dried blood clinging on him. “Her name was Riko.”

You don't know how to describe it, but at that moment, with eyes so dark and out of shine, he seemed to have lost something that would never come back to him.

Since then he is no longer your usual Suguru. Even though his presence was right there, you know that his mind was somewhere else far away, drowning in a spiral that you weren't sure you could save him from.

You realized things couldn't stay like this anymore when you found him sitting on one of the benches at Jujutsu High, looking down and wet hair dripping onto his white t-shirt. So distracted that he didn't even notice you until you sat down next to him, knees lightly brushing his.

“Suguru… Are you fine?” You already know what he's going to answer.

“Yes, just thinking a bit, that's all.”

You try to meet his eyes, but he avert his gaze away, the same hair you loved so much now served as a curtain over his eyes, distancing the two of you. Your heart breaks at the thought.

“Suguru…” you had thought a lot about how to comfort him, what to say, but now all the words seemed to escape you. Tongue stuck between your teeth, you wanted to scream at him, that you were here, to share his pains and sufferings with you, that he should never be afraid of being judged by you because you would love and kiss even the ugliest parts of him.

“...Your hair is still wet." Is what you tell him.

You stand up and your hand finds his, leading him to your room. He doesn't say a word the entire way, not even when you comb and dry his hair, with the delicacy of something fragile, as if he would break at the slightest touch.

He kissed your forehead when you finished.

That night you slept together for the first time, clinging to each other like it was all you had, his fingers marking your skin where they held, as if you were his rescue anchor and he would be lost far away if you let go. Not once did either of you complain or move.

So when days later you receive the news that he has disappeared after murdering his parents and an entire village, you're not quite sure how to react. It's as if the ground beneath your feet has disappeared, falling into an endless fall. Your stomach turns and your head feels like it's going to explode, with so many thoughts but at the same time completely empty.

You almost told Yaga to stop lying, that it's not funny, but then he looks at you with so much pity that you feel like you're going to vomit. Satoru, next to you, slams his fist on the table so hard that the wood breaks. He looks almost sterile as he screams that he refuses to believe it, that Suguru would never do that. You've never seen him so vulnerable, raw emotions on his skin for all to see. Shoko leaves the room without saying a word.

Your suguru is a gentle soul, too gentle for this world and you know that better than anyone. He exchanged letters and bought flowers for his parents when he visited them, he gave up his seat on the subway to the pregnant lady no matter how tired he was, he smiled for you even when the taste of curses was so bitter in his mouth that it seemed to burn. He always gave his all to others, never asking for anything in return.

you know that's the problem, hell might freeze over before you can hate Suguru. Instead, you blame the world for not being fair to him, the superiors for treating everyone like soldiers just waiting to be slaughtered, and especially yourself.

No matter how much you wish you had done differently, insisted more that time, demonstrated more, asked more, the damage was already done and things would never be the same again. These thoughts were nothing more than “what ifs” now.

That night, Suguru's warmth in your bed seemed to haunt you and beneath all the anger and sadness, as much as you wanted to deny yourself, you felt disappointed, betrayed that he had left without you.

To stain every part of your life with his presence only to leave abruptly without even looking back or saying goodbye. He really is a cruel man, you think bitterly to yourself.

You wonder how you can get over the loss of someone who was still alive, if things would be easier if Suguru was dead. Because then there would be some explanation for why his classroom chair remained empty, why Shoko kept forgetting her lighter (he always carried one with him because he knows she always forgets), why Satoru still got his favorite soda from the vending machine. Because then wouldn't you have this hope that he would come back to you.

Because then, two weeks after he left you so selfishly, when you finished a mission in the most desolate part of the city and he appeared in front of you with his hand outstretched, you would have hesitated a little more, no matter how much your mind screamed at you to not do something you would regret, that nothing good could come of it, your heart had already made a decision long time ago.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #this is a repost #bc tumblr turned off the reblogs

[tonystarktogo]

Could I pretty pretty please get some more on the time travel crack au? Maybe when it gets out that Steve, Bruce, andThor are technically from the future?

As much as I’d love to jump to that part, I think it’s funnier necessary to cover a few other tidbits first. For example:

Tony misses whatever discussion follows Thor’s -- hah, got it right in one, he hasn’t lost his touch completely yet -- arrival before the god carries his brother off towards a containment cell with the sort of cheer that causes Tony to carefully keep at least two people between himself and Thor, lest the asshole tries to hug him again.

Not that it can be that big a loss considering they all -- sans Loki -- end up back in the command center of the helicarrier, where Fury glares balefully at the most recent invader of his precious aircraft that clearly isn’t meant to stand in the way of gods.

A glare Thor aggressively doesn’t notice. Likely because he’s too busy partaking in the on-going discussion on what to do next.

And by ‘what to do next’ Tony doesn’t mean the expected we-were-invaded-by-a-mindcontrolled-alien-nutbag-and-there’s-probably-more-out-there-seems-like-the-kind-of-oh-shit-situation-we-should-plan-for. No. That would be reasonable and expected and Tony’s spent all of three hours in the company of the esteemed Captain America and already he can tell you that Rogers is none of that.

[Which, not cool, Capsicle. Dazzling and befuddling people with crazily brilliant ideas is his job.]

[continues under the cut]

So far, Tony’s been paying attention for ten minutes. In that time, Rogers and Thor have gotten into an argument over how to handle Loki -- which holy shit, that went from a calm, rational discussion to a battle to the death between two superhumans on a sugar high in zero point four seconds -- that Tony is so not gonna touch. [Nope. Let some other fool [i.e. Rogers] throw himself head-first into norse god family drama, Tony’s own feelings concerning his family are complicated enough.] That conversation devolved into a not-openly-fighting-while-totally-fighting stand-off between Rogers and Banner over a way too bitter comment from the latter [something about ‘you’d know all about choosing one brother over the other, wouldn’t you’ which what?], which in turn gets derailed by Banner needling Thor about the merits of beheading over stabbing.

Romanoff had the good sense to disappear -- probably to interrogate Loki while his apparently protective big brother is distracted, now that Tony thinks about it. 

Unfortunately that still leaves Tony stuck here, having to play the role of the mature adult because no one else fucking will. Tony hates being responsible. It’s like being back in high school and being left to do all the work on your own in group project.

[Tony failed that project. Got a straight up zero on purpose because spite is a wonderful motivator. Which, now that Tony thinks about it, doesn’t say anything promising about the current situation.]

Tony leans even further back in his seat, only balancing on the backlegs of the chair, to give Fury a very sharp, very judgemental look.

These are the people you’re betting Earth’s survival on, that look says.

Fury’s already pissed off expression darkens further, which brightens Tony mood substantially. That one of the suit’s sensors flashes green twice in quick succession less than a minute later really just makes for a delicious cherry on the top. Or more precisely a good excuse to ditch this trainwreck of a match-making attempt.

“Whoops,” Tony says, clearly audible but not too loud to draw real attention from the three [still arguing-while-pretending-not-to] stooges on the other end of the room. “Looks like I gotta take this call.”

He jiggles his fingers at Fury. The guy rolls his eyes -- probably jealous that he doesn’t have an excuse himself, that bitch face doesn’t fool Tony -- but no one tries to stop him.

“Alright, J, what do you have for me?”

*

Tony pretends not to notice the shuffling footsteps. Glances at the disturbingly normal clock on the wall that is so not up-to-date with the rest of the technology in the room, it must be an inside joke. Tony would love to meet the SHIELD agent behind it -- it can’t be easy, being the only person with a sense of humor in an entire agency.

30 minutes.

Well. That’s longer than Tony thought he’d get. JARVIS still hasn’t cracked the last layer on SHIELD’s really fucked up dirt -- and given what he’s already found, that says a lot -- but it’s only a matter of time now. Besides, Tony’s got a job to do.

“To- Stark.”

“Rogers.”

Tony doesn’t turn. Neither does he stop typing.

“What are you doing?”

Tony scoffs. He’s not in the mood to pander to inferior minds -- not when they’re so fucking frustrating, don’t make any sense and worst of all make him do all the work. 

“He’s tracking the Tesseract, using the scepter as a point of reference,” Banner says after taking one look at the screen over Tony’s shoulder.

Tony raises his eyebrows, impressed despite himself. Banner’s credentials clearly don’t do him justice -- and they were pretty damn good to begin with.

“Huh,” says Rogers.

Thanks for playing. Now buckle down and make yourself useful or fuck off, Tony wants to snipe but doesn’t get the chance to because the gods -- this god at least -- just aren’t on his side.

“Even without my brother’s help, a weapon of the tesseract’s might should not be underestimated,” Thor speaks up. “Should we not make haste and collect it?”

"Great idea.” Tony’s voice is dryer than the sand dune he crash-landed in back during his fun little trip to Afghanistan. “If only I’d thought of that instead of inventing fifteen new algorithms to try and get a read on SHIELD’s precious magic eight ball while you were busy defending your brother’s honor. Speaking of, I’m pretty sure Romanoff is a greater danger to his virtue than Captain Shockfreeze over there, so why are you still here?”

Okay, maybe poking the hornet nest that is godly family isn’t his smartest move [didn’t he just say he wasn’t gonna touch that?!] but damn if Tony isn’t curious. And also too annoyed to care about unimportant, subjective things like good manners and tact.

He sort of regrets his cavalier attitute a little when Thor sobers. At least there are no tears in sight. Tony is the last person on Earth who should be left unsupervised around crying people. It just never ends well.

“Ah.” Thor sighs heavily, stems his body against an unfortunate table that creaks dangerously. "I’m afraid I can’t afford to see my brother right now.”

It’s the way he says those words, the weight they carry more than anything that tells Tony he needs to drop this issue right now. Talk about one huge trigger button.

Must be inconvenient to have siblings. Tony totally can’t relate.

“Well, in that case, unless you have a magic trick with which you can pull the Tesseract’s position out of your sleeve, how about you sit as far away from these delicate instruments as possible and don’t touch anything while I work my magic, hm?”

Tony doesn’t let his gaze linger on the crushed edge of the table. Thor hasn’t even seemed to notice. He’s too busy lighting up at Tony’s snappish response. Which is surprising. Tony’s aware he’s a bit of an asshole right now. In his defence, he’s an asshole most of the time.

Rogers leaps across the room -- almost crashing into the previously mentioned delicate sensors as he does so -- to slap his palm over Thor’s mouth.

Tony stares. [How quickly can you develop a new habit again? Because this starts to feel like a new habit.]

“That sounds like a great plan!” Rogers beams at him, so wide and fake it must be physically painful for the epitome of all that is good and holy. At least Tony hopes it is. The supersoldier his father worshipped is still clinging to their resident god of thunder’s face.

It’s.

Tony resolutely turns his back on both of them because their madness doesn’t seem to come with a refund-ticket and if Tony doesn’t finish this program, no one will.

Not even Banner -- whom Tony had been kind of hoping for. Speaking of, the man’s been awfully quiet for a while now.

“You alright there, Brucie-Bear?” Tony turns around -- a little because it’s polite to face people when you talk with them and mostly to have an excuse not to watch the ongoing doomed wrestle-match between Blonde 1 and Blonde 2. His awesome nicknaming skill doesn’t get so much as a twitch.

To be fair, Banner is so busy staring straight ahead with the most epic rendition of the World’s Most Thoughtful Expression™ Tony has seen in a while that it doesn’t seem like the man heard him. At all.

Until he suddenly speaks up.

“I think we’ve forgotten something.” Behind Tony the impromptu wrestling comes to a sudden halt.

Probably something negligible like how to focus on a mission, the sarcastic voice in the back of Tony’s mind drawls. Though it should be noted that Tony’s consciousness only comes in sarcastic or not at all. Sorry, everyone, all the other flavors are out.

Banner’s frown deepens. “Something- Something important.”

Right on cue an explosion rocks the aircraft.

*

There’s a bit more tension in this part than the previous ones. On Tony’s side it’s because he’s smart enough to pick up on Something Is Seriously Wrong, both consciously and subconsciously and also because he feels the pressure what with everyone else apparently not taking this whole thing very seriously.

[Excluding Natasha who, believe me, takes Clint’s fate very serious indeed.]

On our time travellers’ side, they experience the frustration of being unable to talk openly, surrounded by people they don’t trust, trying to play along to the script of a movie they watched like 12 years ago and never revisited. Needless to say they’re failing horrenduously.

#ReRe answers #archangel-of-peace #if you know the future why are you such an idiot 'verse #Tony Stark #Steve Rogers #Bruce Banner #Thor Odinson #Loki #Thor's and Loki's complicated relationship #Tony is done with this shit #Steve continuous to fail at being subtle #Thor continuous to out-do him #fic #shit this got long #me: i'm gonna write a three line text post on a hilarious time travel au #also me: *what feels like 2k later but is hopefully an exaggeration* fuck #ReRe writes #time travel shenanigans #lovely people

[ignisnocturnalia]

Hehehe I lied, but it is here now! Had a crisis about being done with my Band director's bull and wanting a grade on something really bad, did the former and decided to simply disintegrate once Friday hit. Drifter HCs will follow this, also may I say Caiatl. That is all.

Nokris x Reader

“You are a child reaching for a flame; the Taken Queen would not have you burnt.”

You were on point during the Strange Terrain strike, but you had never thought you would run into Nokris again. Granted, you realized, his death was on the physical plain while his Throne World still stood. Considering he never directly addressed you, you assumed that he either didn’t remember you or he chose not to, as oddly disappointing as that would be. The timbre of his voice unsettled you, but it was not as wracking as Xol’s; in fact, it was rather pleasing to hear.

The proposition itself was unexpected, and against Eris’s previous warnings you stopped to listen to what the Hive heretic had to say. Trekking quietly along the broken path of the distorted realm, you stopped occasionally to stare at blights littered over walls and floating in the air to see if you could catch a glimpse of the desecrated prince. The telltale sign of Taken emerging from their portals filled the air, and you genuinely prayed that you’re next decision was a wise one. 

Your ghost was probably screaming on the inside as you placed your guns to the floor, bringing your hands into the air while staring into the gleaming eye of a Knight. Grabbing your arm roughly, it tugged you through a massive doorway leading to a room that was strikingly similar to the Court of Oryx back at the Dreadnaught. The portal at the center of the room shimmered invitingly as the bony bastard himself came out; even in death, he appeared to be in his prime.

“I see you have heeded my advice; come, hope of the Light, see the Darkness.”

His claws are cold as he grasps at your shoulders despite the solar flame surging over his arms. Feeling bold, you let your own solar light extend past your body, lying comfortably across his neck with a warm glow. As a creature who worships the Darkness facing a servant of the Light, he reasonably withdraws with a hiss at your gesture

You won’t say it out loud because he obviously carries himself with extreme pride, but you can’t help but feel bad for him. How can one person be an exiled son, heretic, servant, and now puppet?

“I won’t serve Savathûn. But I think I wouldn't mind spending time with you.” Before he can question you, you are promptly pulled from the realm by Eris.

Cue Vanguard interrogation once you return to the Tower. The talk is so egregiously long you make a move that would make Cayde damn proud: “GuArDiAn, We’Re NoT yEt FiNiShEd WiTh ThIs DiScUsSiOn!” Hopefully your shining reputation will save you from any dire repercussions...

Tracing your steps back to where you first met, you look around suspiciously following the lack of noise inside the Hive breeding grounds. You had cut your comm ages ago, the constant ping of Commander Zavala’s hailing grating your ears. The ground beneath your feet crunched wetly with every step, and distantly you heard the first Hive screech. Turning in a guess to the source of the sound, you set off in a quick pace, gun in your hand.

Upon entering a new chamber, you froze in surprise as you saw Nokris lifting a Knight by the throat. Taken magic pooled in his palm and raced over the armor of the smaller Hive, the bone turning black and a bright white glow shimmering across its legs. Still gripping the soldier, Nokris slowly angled his head to look down at you.

“Little. Light.” Dropping the Knight with no grace, his imposing form closed in on you with haste. Before you could take a step back, his claws came up to close around your jaw and upper neck. The rough of his talons dug into your armor, and for a moment you worried he would pop off your helmet and let your blood boil throughout your body in the harsh atmosphere. Instead, he pulled you closer to his face and brought up his free hand to grasp your forearm.

Nokris easily dwarfed you; even if you stood on your own shoulders you wouldn’t be taller than him. Passively, your thighs rubbed against each other at the realization. A detail he decided he would catch. Teasing mirth danced in his three eyes, hidden malice swimming just behind small organs. Internally, you were probably going to pop your helmet off yourself if you got kink shamed by a Hive prince of all things. 

You squeaked quietly in surprise as he lifted you off the ground, the hand on your lower face readjusting to your hip. His hand, quite literally, engulfed your midsection as he brought you closer to him for inspection. This close, you could see every imperfection on his face. Second hand leaving your arm, you shivered as the prince ran a digit up the side of your leg and continued his way up, stopping thoughtfully at the junction of your jaw.

Staring into the glowing green embers of his eyes, there was no mistaking the murderous glint in them. At the same time, curiosity had made its home among his more dangerous faculties.

"You found me once, you came to me twice. Find me again, at the other side in the field of ash under the dark tower.” Letting you to the floor, Nokris turned his back and departed to Traveler knows where through the portal with the long forgotten Knight. Sinking to your knees in stunned silence, you looked down as a nearly imperceptible squeal broke the quiet. In front of you, was a Hive worm.

“No.” Before you could even speak, your Ghost gave its earful. 

“I can’t not take it! I probably need it to find him. Either way, I told you one of these worms would be coming home eventually, look at its wittle face.” Your Ghost made gagging noises as you fawned over the wriggling creature you held between your hands. Tucking the three eyed larva under your arm, you set out to find the way back out.

____________________________________________

The next week felt like hell. The worm continued to get bigger with every mission you went on and keeping it a secret from the Vanguard was close to impossible. You had been wracking your brain for the answer to his riddle, and to be completely honest, it made you feel inadequate that you couldn’t figure it out. You knew the other side meant the Ascendant Realm, but what was the dark tower? Where was the field of ash? You had initially thought it was at Skywatch, what with the Hive ship jutting out of the ground and the small pile of chitin inside the cave not too far away, but there wasn’t enough ash for it to be a field, nor was it under the ship point.

It wasn’t until a light snow dusted the Tower one evening that it all clicked. He didn’t mean ash ash. He meant snow! 

In a rush to the hangar, you waved a hasty goodbye to Holliday and transmatted into your ship, pulling out a layer of blankets to reveal your now cat sized worm. The grub squeed and reached its head up to your palm, crawling sluggishly into your hands. Holding the worm to your chest, you settled down in the pilot ship and gave your Ghost to plot a course. There was only one place on Earth constantly coated in snow with a structure that could be considered a dark tower.

“Ghost, set course for the Plaguelands. He’s at the Doomed Sea.”

You hadn’t been to the ravaged lands since the Siva Crisis; the whole territory gave you heebie jeebies. And yet, you were returning because one of humanity’s imminent threats wanted a chat that, realistically, ended with your head rolling on the floor.

The closer you got to your destination, the more restless the worm in your arms got. In fact, you could swear it was whispering something. Your skin crawled for a moment as you felt the phantom brush of his claw up your leg.

The moment your feet touched the ground, the world around you stuttered as the colors faded into grayscale, giving way to the Ascendant landscape. Below you, there was no mistaking the keen whispers of the worm. Its words were encouraging in a macabre way, praise and blatant lies; speaking of how well you fed it, talents being wasted on a god that heeds you not, urging you towards the ominous building looming over the shoreline.

Dust swept across at a rapid pace, as usual, in the warped realm. Coming up to the alcove, you saw him with his back turned to you. In a smooth turn, he faced you at last. Beautiful, blazing emeralds.

Relationship HCs

His idea of a relationship has wildly different parameters than any normal human would put up with

No matter where you are, or what you're doing, you can feel him at the back of your mind like a fog; it's a bit disconcerting to hear him talk in your head at first, but it becomes normal and he's actually quite helpful when you're out on missions

He expects you to help him study thanatonautics since you can die and be brought back within moments, but that's up to if you have enough charisma to convince your Ghost to let your bone boyfriend crush your skull repeatedly to see what you can learn about death

The relationship feels more like a symbiotic one rather than a romantic one, but you occassionally catch him practicing human gestures you've seen couples perform in public if he's feeling particularly good on a day

You're probably the only person who listens to him talk about all of his schtick and is able to give viable feedback; he is more thankful than he will let on about this fact

He does not like it when you try blocking him off from your thoughts and will demand to know everything you've done in the day when you see him again. In his perspective, he thinks you're trying to leave him behind like everyone else has

Will not handhold, because his hand can literally fit around your torso and because he thinks it's weird. He will, however, carry you places if you're going the same direction

He also thinks kissing is weird, but will (surprisingly!) actually let you give him kisses on his teeth; the sensation of soft flesh on his cold bones is unusual, but something he finds utterly riveting. Not that he'd let you know

Also doesn't like the amount of straight barbarity you inflict on the battlefield, but can appreciate your efficiency with your job; this is him silently worrying about your safety but refusing to acknowledge his crush on the flame throwing ape

His communication regarding affection is terrible, and if you couldn't tell shame on you. His favorite thing about you, that you will never hear from him or anyone else, is your face. He likes the way it changes into different expressions, the life in your eyes, and your lips because Hive physically cannot emote as expressively as humans do; you are an open book he has yet to read, adding new pages everyday

Nsfw 👁👄👁

First off, however you get the size difference to work, congratulations. His height over you is something he enjoys immensely when you two get into it, and it goes without saying he also likes how you "hug" him

He will fuck anywhere, literally anywhere. The floor? Yes. Against the wall? Yes. Hope you're somewhat of an exhibitionist, because he is not ashamed if any of his or Savathûn's troops walk in on you and will keep going

He bites a lot, and is not afraid to make you bleed because your Ghost can just patch you right up

Likewise, he will scratch you everywhere but he does stop to play with the softer spots

He is rough and fast, going after his own release rather than yours; however, he has high stamina so chances are you'll be overstimulated before he finishes

Absolutely a dom, he will not meet in the middle about anything of sexual nature

If you don't actively fight for your life during his build up, he will take that as the go ahead. He may be a Hive heretic, but he has standards

You don't really have the opportunity to find his sensitive spots as he usually restrains your arms, holding them above your head or pinning them down at your sides

He rarely makes actual noises, but he does hiss lowly whenever he makes particularly hard thrusts

He knows that copulation won't result in little Hive/Human hybrids running around with his blood in their veins, so 9 times out of 10 he will hilt himself and come inside you

Fluff

Uhhh, a w k w a r d

Anything that's fluffy is strictly delivered by you, and occasionally returned by Nokris since he doesn't get the point of such pleasantries

If you're fast enough, he will never get upset if you can sneak up on him for a smooch

Whatever he is doing, if you are available he much prefers having you by his side to have an extra set of eyes to help him observe (at least that's what he says)

Since his physical marks are healed quickly, he gifts you odds and ends from old planets his people have pillaged and little items you can wear on noticeable places

Hides it very well, but is extremely thrilled when you come to him when you want to do or learn something new

When you're particularly frustrated by something, he will comb his claws through your hair to his best abilities

Whenever you're with him, his demeanor is typically calmer; Savathûn's presence and influence over him is highly diminished in the face of your Light

The one thing he will willingly do with you that's remotely romantic is stargazing; not because of the romantic element, oh no, but because he wants to catalogue any changes and is very invested in teaching you about space faring

Has nicknames for you like Little Light or >Insert any game seal<

#destiny 2 #relationship headcanon #nokris #nokris x reader #eris morn #oryx the taken king #commander zavala #savathûn

[mrsgreenworld]

Son Yaz Episode 23

"İmkansız" ("The Impossible") aka It's Worth It

It's strange but after the last episode I've been thinking a lot about Arrow. Sure I'm a big Arrow and Olicity fan. Hell, they're the reason I got a Tumblr account. When the show ended, it was tough. Because it had been a part of my life for several years and it resonated with me deeply and it had given me a sense of community and belonging. So I feared I would never feel it again. But then Sen Çal Kapımı kinda attacked me, pulled me in and it was so great - feeling this passionate about something again. And despite SCK having turned into a mess and huge disappointment, I'll always appreciate those early days and keep them in my heart. After all, it brought me to you @lolo-deli and @djemsostylist. This alone is something I'm very grateful for. But my disappointment with SCK left me wondering yet again: would I ever find something worth watching and shipping and obsessing over? I got my answer when, after having seen all the amazing gifs by @aslibekroglu, I finally gave in and started watching Son Yaz. And it's completely taken over my life ever since. Not in a way SCK had back in the day. By similar to the way I felt when I was watching Arrow. I know it may seem kinda crazy because Son Yaz and Arrow are two completely different shows. Like, two shows cannot be any further apart, almost to the point of polar opposites. But I've realized that, if we look past the genre, language, the storytelling and all other differences, there's something very similar in the heart and core of both these shows. I looked at Akgün in the last episode and holy shit how much he reminded me of Oliver Queen. And I'll gladly explain why. Let's get down to it.

Akgün

So how the hell did I end up comparing Akgün Gökalp Taşkın and Oliver Queen? It's very simple really (at least it is in my mind 🙈😆) and I'm surprised I haven't made this connection before. Because both Akgün and Oliver are essentially the same type of character - a tortured hero, tainted by darkness and burdened with past sins but ultimately a very good person with a pure heart, bright light inside and infinite capacity to love. Both of them don't hesitate to make sacrifices for those they love, they can be borderline suicidal when it comes to protecting their loved ones. Sure Oliver had a mission and wanted to make a difference by helping people and protecting the whole city. Akgün doesn't have these ambitions. But then again Son Yaz isn't a superhero type of show. But if we remove the "super" part and focus on just the men, we'll see that what they both crave is actually very simple - love and family. I also think that Akgün reminds me of Oliver more now because in season 1, despite his difficult childhood and the loss of his mother, there still was some innocence left in him, he wasn't truly touched by the darkness. It changed when he shot his brother and helped Selim beat up to death and then buried a man, possibly still alive. Taking someone's life robs a person of innocence. Same thing happened to Oliver. However, he's way more acquainted with darkness, given how he dropped bodies left and right at the beginning of his vigilante career. It's clear that Akgün and Oliver had very different journeys but it's impossible for me to ignore the core similarities.

Another thing Akgün and Oliver have in common is their desire to not just protect their loved ones from the dangers and evil of this world, but also from themselves, their own darkness. They deem themselves unworthy of the women they love. Akgün even straight out confessed it to Yağmur in the moment of panic. That's the reason he left - he didn't want to taint her with his darkness. But then again, he's never truly left her or given up on her. He's given up on himself. He's doomed himself to loneliness.

I must say that episode 23 in general made me love Akgün even more. We saw not only his devotion and fierce love for Yağmur but his love and loyalty to Soner. Their brotp is one of the best things on this show and I sure hope they won't destroy it.

The Rocket Team (yes, the name is now canon!!!!) reunion gave me all the feels. Seeing these three grown men turn into teary eyed mess just melted my heart.

Throughout the whole episode we saw Akgün trying to be there for everyone. He didn't want to argue with and go against Selim but he also didn't want to betray Soner. The scene where Akgün met with Selim and told him that Soner and Naz had gotten married, made me so proud of him. He was the reasonable one in that moment. That's a first 🙈😆 At the end of the scene Akgün also managed to make me laugh. Really laugh. I didn't think I would be laughing any time soon this season but his wild gestures, his frustration with Selim and his "just listen to me for once" - all of that was funny to watch.

Just like I said, Akgün was supportive and tried being there for everyone, that's why he was immediately on board with the wedding. Soner had to only ask and it's like the three years of not having seen each other were erased in that moment. Akgün didn't try to talk Soner out of it, didn't ask any questions. He did remind Soner of the consequences but it was very cautious, filled with love and concern, without overstepping and disrespecting Soner's choice.

Then there was Yağmur... Akgün and Soner going to search for her and then the moment when Akgün found Yağmur in that storage room - that was for sure the highlight of the episode for me. First we saw Akgün and Soner working together as a well-oiled machine. Perfect partners in crime 😎 And after they split, the moment when Akgün stopped for a second and just smelled Yağmur... Damn. Such a parallel to Yağmur smelling him in episode 22. It doesn't matter how many years have passed, what they've been through, how much they've changed, doesn't matter if there's anger and pain and so much unsaid between them - they still just feel each other. Their connection is there, strong as ever. And Alperen totally knocked it out of the park, showing Akgün's panic and raw fear the moment he found Yağmur. He'd never seen her like that and it shook him to the core. I swear he looked ready to cut his chest open, take out his heart or, I don't know, lungs and give to Yağmur, just to make it stop, just to make her okay again 😭😭😭

When Naz tried to tell Akgün about Yağmur and what she had been through, Akgün didn't want to hear it. Because he couldn't bear it. But in the end he was forced to witness Yağmur's breakdown. The first one of many others to come. And when they come, he won't be able to stay away any longer.

Yağmur

Yağmur's journey this season is all about healing and acceptance. She has to live through those 5 stages of grief. Just like Meredith Grey once said: "There are five stages of grief. They look different on all of us. But there are always five". And I already said in my episode 22 review that Yağmur locked herself in denial. Naz in her conversation with Akgün confirmed it. But ever since Akgün showed up in the restaurant, it's like the floodgates of Yağmur's grief have been open. She started spiralling, diving head first into anger. All her anger was directed at Akgün. And even though Yağmur came to visit Akgün in prison to say that she was no longer angry with him, her biting words, the "I don't love you anymore" and the following panick attack - all of that only proves that she's still just as angry with him as she was, simply because she's still very much in love with him.

I think Yağmur's bargaining stage of grief revealed itself with Naz, when Yağmur went to the hotel to bring Naz home. In Yağmur's head there is this idea that she has to protect Naz, she's convinced that she can save her cousin from suffering Canan's fate. But Naz refused to go with Yağmur, therefore making Yağmur feel helpless and maybe even abandoned. Already in this fragile and vulnerable state, Yağmur completely lost it after having heard gunshots. She finally started accepting that something's wrong. And it's so important that, when she finally said the words "I don't recognize myself anymore", Akgün was the one she said those words to. It's like she had been waiting for him all this time. Naz told Akgün that Yağmur needed someone to tell her what had happened to her. Akgün's that someone. Only with Akgün back in her life, Yağmur will finally accept her mother's death and then start moving on.

Selim

I don't have much to say about Selim in episode 23 other than a string of curses 🤬🤬🤬.

I've never loved this character and barely even liked him. Canan made him bearable and with her gone... Well, we've got what we saw in the last episode. I wonder how he was never kicked out of his job. Not only was he completely unhinged but also absolutely stupid and unprofessional during that mission with Sare. Then him forcing Akgün to choose between himself and Soner. And of course him storming into Yağmur and Emel's house, yelling and demanding to see Naz. Mister, it's not your place to demand anything, let alone act all righteous and question Emel as a mother. I swear, I wanted to rip his tongue out 😠😡😤

That's pretty much all I have to say about Selim in the last episode. Well, I've got more to say but I don't see it moving forward without me spitting profanities and turning violent.

A few honourable mentions:

🖤 Naz and her attempt to talk to Akgün about Yağmur.

🖤 Sare was kinda funny and she deserved a cookie for putting up with Selim. Glad they didn't make her stupid and she figured out that she was being followed.

🖤 Cihan trying to help Yağmur with her panick attack was very sweet. It was a nice first meeting. Although him being her secret admirer is kinda creepy and makes zero sense for now. I really hope they're going to show how it all started. Speaking of Cihan. I'm kinda conflicted about him. On the one hand, he's sweet and gentle with Yağmur, pretty hot when he was speaking German but also cunning and cold-blooded when he tipped off the Mertoğlu about Soner's whereabouts. And in episode 24 he's going to team up with Akgün to avenge Soner?🤔 Damn, the guy's making my head spin.

And that's pretty much it. Görüşürüz!

#son yaz #son yaz dizi #son yaz yeni sezon #son yaz sezon 2 #son yaz bölüm 23 #son yaz reviews #son yaz bölüm 23 review #the last summer #the last summer season 2 #the last summer reviews #the last summer episode 23 #the last summer episode 23 review #akgün gökalp taşkın #akgun gokalp taskin #yağmur kara #yagmur kara #akgün ve yağmur #yağmur ve akgün #akgun x yagmur #yagmur x akgun #akmur #selim kara #akgün ve selim #aksel #soner sancaktar #akgün ve soner #akson #naz yaman #soner ve naz #soner and naz

[livingcorner]

‘Paradise Lost’: How The Apple Became The Forbidden Fruit

Left: Title page of the first edition of Paradise Lost (1667). Right: William Blake, The Temptation and Fall of Eve, 1808 (illustration of Milton’s Paradise Lost) Wikipedia hide caption

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You're reading: ‘Paradise Lost’: How The Apple Became The Forbidden Fruit

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Left: Title page of the first edition of Paradise Lost (1667). Right: William Blake, The Temptation and Fall of Eve, 1808 (illustration of Milton’s Paradise Lost)

Wikipedia

This month marks 350 years since John Milton sold his publisher the copyright of Paradise Lost for the sum of five pounds.

His great work dramatizes the oldest story in the Bible, whose principal characters we know only too well: God, Adam, Eve, Satan in the form of a talking snake — and an apple.

Except, of course, that Genesis never names the apple but simply refers to “the fruit.” To quote from the King James Bible:

And the woman said to the serpent, “We may eat the fruit of the trees of the garden; but of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God has said, ‘You shall not eat it, nor shall you touch it, lest you die.'”

“Fruit” is also the word Milton employs in the poem’s sonorous opening lines:

Of Mans First Disobedience, and the Fruit

Of that Forbidden Tree, whose mortal taste

Brought Death into the World, and all our woe

Read more: Papergarden

But in the course of his over-10,000-line poem, Milton names the fruit twice, explicitly calling it an apple. So how did the apple become the guilty fruit that brought death into this world and all our woe?

The short and unexpected answer is: a Latin pun.

In order to explain, we have to go all the way back to the fourth century A.D., when Pope Damasus ordered his leading scholar of scripture, Jerome, to translate the Hebrew Bible into Latin. Jerome’s path-breaking, 15-year project, which resulted in the canonical Vulgate, used the Latin spoken by the common man. As it turned out, the Latin words for evil and apple are the same: malus.

In the Hebrew Bible, a generic term, peri, is used for the fruit hanging from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, explains Robert Appelbaum, who discusses the biblical provenance of the apple in his book Aguecheek’s Beef, Belch’s Hiccup, and Other Gastronomic Interjections.

“Peri could be absolutely any fruit,” he says. “Rabbinic commentators variously characterized it as a fig, a pomegranate, a grape, an apricot, a citron, or even wheat. Some commentators even thought of the forbidden fruit as a kind of wine, intoxicating to drink.”

A detail of Michelangelo’s fresco in the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel depicting the Fall of Man and expulsion from the Garden of Eden Wikipedia hide caption

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A detail of Michelangelo’s fresco in the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel depicting the Fall of Man and expulsion from the Garden of Eden

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When Jerome was translating the “Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil,” the word malus snaked in. A brilliant but controversial theologian, Jerome was known for his hot temper, but he obviously also had a rather cool sense of humor.

“Jerome had several options,” says Appelbaum, a professor of English literature at Sweden’s Uppsala University. “But he hit upon the idea of translating peri as malus, which in Latin has two very different meanings. As an adjective, malus means bad or evil. As a noun it seems to mean an apple, in our own sense of the word, coming from the very common tree now known officially as the Malus pumila. So Jerome came up with a very good pun.”

The story doesn’t end there. “To complicate things even more,” says Appelbaum, “the word malus in Jerome’s time, and for a long time after, could refer to any fleshy seed-bearing fruit. A pear was a kind of malus. So was the fig, the peach, and so forth.”

Which explains why Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel fresco features a serpent coiled around a fig tree. But the apple began to dominate Fall artworks in Europe after the German artist Albrecht Dürer’s famous 1504 engraving depicted the First Couple counterpoised beside an apple tree. It became a template for future artists such as Lucas Cranach the Elder, whose luminous Adam and Eve painting is hung with apples that glow like rubies.

Eve giving Adam the forbidden fruit, by Lucas Cranach the Elder. Wikipedia hide caption

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Eve giving Adam the forbidden fruit, by Lucas Cranach the Elder.

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Milton, then, was only following cultural tradition. But he was a renowned Cambridge intellectual fluent in Latin, Greek and Hebrew, who served as secretary for foreign tongues to Oliver Cromwell during the Commonwealth. If anyone was aware of the malus pun, it would be him. And yet he chose to run it with it. Why?

Appelbaum says that Milton’s use of the term “apple” was ambiguous. “Even in Milton’s time the word had two meanings: either what was our common apple, or, again, any fleshy seed-bearing fruit. Milton probably had in mind an ambiguously named object with a variety of connotations as well as denotations, most but not all of them associating the idea of the apple with a kind of innocence, though also with a kind of intoxication, since hard apple cider was a common English drink.”

Read more: Feng Shui Tips For Luck And Wealth: 7 Ways To Use Elephant In Your Home Decor

It was only later readers of Milton, says Appelbaum, who thought of “apple” as “apple” and not any seed-bearing fruit. For them, the forbidden fruit became synonymous with the malus pumila. As a widely read canonical work, Paradise Lost was influential in cementing the role of apple in the Fall story.

But whether the forbidden fruit was an apple, fig, peach, pomegranate or something completely different, it is worth revisiting the temptation scene in Book 9 of Paradise Lost, both as an homage to Milton (who composed his masterpiece when he was blind, impoverished and in the doghouse for his regicidal politics) and simply to savor the sublime beauty of the language. Thomas Jefferson loved this poem. With its superfood dietary advice, celebration of the ‘self-help is the best help’ ideal, and presence of a snake-oil salesman, Paradise Lost is a quintessentially American story, although composed more than a century before the United States was founded.

What makes the temptation scene so absorbing and enjoyable is that, although written in archaic English, it is speckled with mundane details that make the reader stop in surprise.

Take, for instance, the serpent’s impeccably timed gustatory seduction. It takes place not at any old time of the day but at lunchtime:

“Mean while the hour of Noon drew on, and wak’d/ An eager appetite.”

What a canny and charmingly human detail. Milton builds on it by lingeringly conjuring the aroma of apples, knowing full well that an “ambrosial smell” can madden an empty stomach to action. The fruit’s “savorie odour,” rhapsodizes the snake, is more pleasing to the senses than the scent of the teats of an ewe or goat dropping with unsuckled milk at evening. Today’s Food Network impresarios, with their overblown praise and frantic similes, couldn’t dream up anything close to that peculiarly sensuous comparison.

It is easy to imagine the scene. Eve, curious, credulous and peckish, gazes longingly at the contraband “Ruddie and Gold” fruit while the unctuous snake-oil salesman murmurs his encouragement. Initially, she hangs back, suspicious of his “overpraising.” But soon she begins to cave: How can a fruit so “Fair to the Eye, inviting to the Taste,” be evil? Surely it is the opposite, its “sciental sap” must be the source of divine knowledge. The serpent must speak true.

So saying, her rash hand in evil hour

Forth reaching to the Fruit, she pluck’d, she eat:

Earth felt the wound, and Nature from her seat

Sighing through all her Works gave signs of woe,

That all was lost.

But Eve is insensible to the cosmic disappointment her lunch has caused. Sated and intoxicated as if with wine, she bows low before “O Sovran, vertuous, precious of all Trees,” and hurries forth with “a bough of fairest fruit” to her beloved Adam, that he too might eat and aspire to godhead. Their shared meal, foreshadowed as it is by expulsion and doom, is a moving and poignant tableau of marital bliss.

Meanwhile, the serpent, its mission accomplished, slinks into the gloom. Satan heads eagerly toward a gathering of fellow devils, where he boasts that the Fall of Man has been wrought by something as ridiculous as “an apple.”

Except that it was a fig or a peach or a pear. An ancient Roman punned – and the apple myth was born.

Nina Martyris is a freelance journalist based in Knoxville, Tenn.

Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/paradise-lost-how-the-apple-became-the-forbidden-fruit/

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[ironmandeficiency]

that’s not how those work

pairing: fives / reader

word count: 4124

summary: you’re a witch on an outer-rim planet that gifts fives with protection crystals to keep him safe when he leaves. you forgot to tell him how protection crystals work.

warnings: implied smut, shenanigans

a/n: shitpost prompt # 13, everyone!! i’m extremely excited to write this one bc i can’t get over the idea of just chucking a big ass hunk of rose quartz at a problem and making it just, ya know, stop being a problem. this quickly became a favorite of mine and i hope y’all enjoy my first attempt at writing for fives.

the battle was rough, as all battles seemed to be, but tonight the sweet taste of victory permeated through your village. the chief opened your home to your saviors, the men with almost identical faces, and dared their jedi to tell them no when a celebration was set to be held in their honor.

there was drinking and singing and dancing unlike anything you’d ever seen, every sensation only intensified by the mirth of the soldiers. it thrummed deep in your veins and set itself to the drumming of your heartbeat. you were never going to feel this euphoria again, so you believed it highly justified that your eyes lingered on the trooper that had saved you from a blaster shot to the chest earlier that day.

you’d met him while the defense strategies were still being planned, the day the republic forces arrived. his smile blazed hotter than the sun that burned the skin of the men in the harvest fields. he had eyes that were rich and held life like the fertile soil your people grew your food in. and his laugh? you’d never heard any song as sweet.

thoughts of him have had you enraptured since day one. he told you his name was fives, pointing to the number etched onto his golden skin with a smile, and the rest was history. every waking moment that wasn’t spent with everyday responsibilities was spent with each other. you swapped stories about your families and when he shared details of his dashing exploits as a soldier, you told him of the spells you cast and their sometimes ridiculous outcomes.

magic was never a circus trick to you. you took it seriously and it gave you a sense of pride as the strongest in the village. but the way his eyes gleamed with such joy at the idea of seeing real magic, how could you say no? so you found an unsuspecting newt and changed the pattern of its spots. the grin on fives’s face while you arranged them into a five to match his temple was one you’d never forget.

these memories and more were floating through your mind as you approached where he sat by one of the many bonfires built to accommodate for the several hundred guests. he was chatting with his brothers but the moment he spotted you, he forgot what he was supposed to be saying.

you had to have him under a spell, he reasoned. there was no way just looking at someone would take his words from him that efficiently, but alas. he paused halfway through his story and now had two pairs of eyes looking over him worriedly.

they followed his line of sight and their worry dissipated as quickly as it appeared. it was just you, the woman he was just talking about, the woman he hasn’t quit talking about since the first day they set foot on your planet. jesse and kix hadn’t met you in the tenday that the five-oh-first has been stationed in your home but they might as well have known you forever with the way fives has been rambling on about you.

jesse wordlessly shoves fives off the log he was sitting on and barely hides the laugh when he sees you grin at the action. fives, on any other day, would have smacked his brother upside the head for a stunt like that. the only thing that saved jesse from his fate was the way you smiled at him and offered him your hand to help him up.

he took it gratefully and relished in the electricity that buzzed through him where your skin touched his. you began to walk with him, looping your arm through his so casually it was like you’d been doing this for decades instead of days. fives had no idea where you were leading him but he would have followed you anywhere.

the walk was comfortably silent. days had been spent pouring out stories; it was nice to just bask in his presence next to you without needing to fill it with tales of derring-do and fond memories of the dirt you walked in.

arriving at your home was a bit of a rush, if you were completely honest with yourself. normally the only reason people walked through your doors was to enlist your skills for one task or another, some menial and others dire. now, however, opening your front door felt so excitingly different with fives next to you, the starlight bouncing off him in a way that only served to deepen his eyes and smooth his skin. this visitor wasn’t here to ask something of you, not here to take from you; he was here to give, and you were going to give him everything you had in return.

the door was barely shut when your lips crashed to his and his hands found their rightful place on your hips, pulling you closer to him. he was floating away on a cloud of bliss; the fact he was in your home and holding you and being held by you had the arc trooper drifting far from reality. a soft gasp left his mouth as you worked to remove his armor without lifting a finger from where your hands cupped his face, thumb stroking the stubble of his face.

it wasn’t until you guided him to your bed that he spoke of the way you soothed him, the way you’d been able to chase the nightmares away without even trying. you offered your own confessions in return, admitting that your dreams have consisted of brown eyes and a sly grin ever since that first night, and that you’ve never met anyone as strong and loyal and comforting.

you both found solace in each other’s arms, in the way your bodies melded together with the familiarity of your own mind. there were no barriers between you and no definite point as to where the boundaries of your separate bodies were. it was nothing like you’d ever known, would never know again. love was what it was, and although it was doomed to be distant from the moment you licked eyes, you vowed to yourself as you chanted his name that you would do everything you could to protect your soldier.

when you awoke, fives had an arm wrapped around your waist, his face buried into your neck. his body was hot against yours and you would have been happy never leaving your bed if it meant that you’d get to be held like this forever. but there was work to be done if you wanted to keep him safe.

“fives,” you whispered, rolling to face him. his groan was almost adorable as he nuzzled his face into your neck in protest of your movement. “fives, i’ve got a gift for you but i have to get up to get it.” another groan emitted from his throat as he tightened his arms around you, mumbling something incoherent about not wanting you to leave.

unwrapping him from you by sheer force wouldn’t have any effect on him, and you weren’t one to use your magic so frivolously, so you relented and let him hold you for a while longer. nearly an hour had passed before he kissed your collarbone, leaving the bed on his own volition. you took advantage of his absence and walked to your altar.

precious stones were one of the most common ways for your people to show their feelings and intentions with one another. each stone carried a different meaning, and picking a stone based on color alone could get one into quite the sticky situation if they didn’t know the intentions behind it.

fives’s status as an arc trooper meant that he often found himself in the thickest areas of the fight, on the riskiest missions with the minimum amount of backup. this man needed protection, and lots of it, if you were to judge by the scars you memorized the night before. he did what needed to be done in a fight at risk of his own life and constantly had to make decisions that could cost lives if they were wrong.

his role required an unshakable confidence and although you didn’t doubt his skills for a second, a little help wouldn’t hurt. plus it would make you feel better, knowing that he carried pieces of you wherever he traveled in the galaxy.

he returned to the room just as you picked out the stones he needed, walking up to you and resting his chin on your shoulder. only a fool would think he wasn’t observing everything around him and analyzing it; the soft smile on your face as you leaned into his touch, the meticulous arrangement of the altar in front of him, the concentration on your face as you seemed to be moving the stones around to compensate for some being removed. there was a reason behind it, just as there was a reason for everything you did.

his answer was given moments later as you led him back to your bed. the first thought that went through his head was continuing from last night, but you mentioned a gift. were you giving him a stone from your personal collection?

you told him of the significance of gifting stones not long after you met him. being given a stone directly from someone’s altar was one of the strongest displays of care for another person. all the signs pointed to that being what you meant by “gift” but part of him was trying to keep from being hopeful.

moving your legs to sit criss-cross on the bed, you open your hands that contained three stones that you believed were best suited to protect fives once he left the safety of your bed. his eyes met yours in a silent question of you think i’m worthy of this gift? and it took considerable amounts of willpower to not show him how worthy he was right then and there, gift be damned.

“i know you’ll be leaving soon, and i know it’s selfish but i don’t want you to forget me during your travels. these will help keep you safe and guide you in making the best decisions you can.”

his hands wrap around the amethyst tower first, running his fingers along the smooth faces and absurdly sharp edges and point. he spends a moment admiring it before meeting your eyes, a question on his lips. “you said before that the meanings of the stones were just as important as who you give them to. what does this one mean?”

you smiled, knowing he’d remember the importance of your words despite the casual tone you used. “amethyst is known for its ability to protect against negative energies and awaken its owner’s higher consciousness. it can guide you into making wiser decisions without having your emotions overtake logic.”

he hums at that, inspecting the tower a bit more before carefully resting it on your bedside table. his eyes catch the swirls of the malachite and you notice, moving to hand it to him as you answer the question you know is waiting on the tip of his tongue.

“this is malachite. it’s widely seen providing protective luck, like keeping you from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. maker knows you need some of that.” you add the last bit as an afterthought and are thoroughly pleased at the laugh it brings from him. he follows the swirls and circle patterns as he turns the stone over in his hand, studying it to learn of the ways each part of it connects to each other. once he’s satisfied with his inspection, he sets it beside the amethyst.

“this last one is carnelian, the courage stone. it boosts the holder’s willpower. many say that it helps the holder trust their own judgement and find the confidence to do what’s right in the toughest situations.”

he doesn’t move for a long moment, which worries you. the stone is sitting in his palm and staring at him with unseen eyes.

fives can’t recall a time where he felt so cared for, so appreciated. it was clear that you had put extensive thought into the meanings, which didn’t surprise him in the least, but he was still trying to register that you did that for him. sitting there in front of him, that soft smile on your face that had him falling at your feet, it was clear that you expected nothing in return for your gift. but he still felt that he had to give something in return, to show you that he cared for you the same way you cared for him.

he left your bed speckled in lovebites and a vambrace lighter, but he was given so much more in exchange. he had your love and your protection, and that was enough for him.

weeks later he finds himself, alongside rex, jesse, and hardcase, captured by a separatist-aligned village. none of them could have told you how exactly they were captured so easily nor how they still weren’t free after three days.

they heard talk from their captors about a message sent to one of dooku’s goonies about having skywalker’s fist begging for mercy (a whole ass lie, rex hasn’t said a word to them since they were taken three days prior). soon these overheard tidbits involved a date of arrival for the people who would take them off the planet they were currently stationed on.

all four of them knew that if they left this planet, there was a large chance they wouldn’t be reuniting with the five-oh-first.

this was unacceptable and made fives desperate to break free. but how the hell was he supposed to do that?! he didn’t have anything that could cut through the ropes that bound him to his chair, and his ankles were tied to the legs of the chair so he couldn’t move his legs. the edges of his armor, if positioned in a certain manner and moved, possibly could have done something to help but it was in a convenient pile several feet away.

he shifts yet again, agitating the rope burn on his wrists from days of struggling, and hisses when he feels something pointy jab him in the thigh. in an unforeseen twist of fate, they had left his belt on. and attached to his belt was the leather pouch he kept his protection stones in.

he had an idea.

slowly but surely, he moved his fingers what little he could to grab at his kama and rotate his belt until his fingers met the leather pouch. he blindly untied the knot in the string keeping it closed and felt around for the amethyst tower.

“fives! what the kriff are you doing playin’ with your rocks?!”

“i’m gettin’ us outta here.”

twirling it in his fingers and hoping to the maker he doesn’t drop it, he begins to use the amethyst to saw through the rope. it’s long work and takes several minutes before the rope is thin enough for him to pull it apart from his wrists. it hurts like a bitch and he’s mildly concerned when he feels a damp spot in the rope. a sigh of relief escapes his lips when he regains movement in his arms, quickly bending down to free his legs and ankles.

“well kriff me with a z-6, it actually worked!”

“couldn’t you have thought about that, i don’t know, three days ago?!”

“knock it off jess, or i’ll leave your shebs here!” fives wasn’t going to leave him, everyone knew that, so the retort was taken with merely an eyeroll.

as the quartet gathered their armor and snuck out of the village, fives realized something: these protection crystals weren’t playing around.

a simple bout of surveillance, they said. they’re not going to have anyone posted at their “abandoned” outpost, they said. it’ll be in and out, they said.

they were a bunch of liars.

he was now -alongside echo and tup- running for his life through the most horribly laid-out building he’d ever been in with only vague recollections on how to get out through the darkness. the enemy voices seemed to be getting louder the farther they ran and it was infuriating. his lungs and legs told him that he was going his damndest but it still seemed like the enemy was getting the upper hand.

“the doors should be up ahead! but there’s one problem!” echo shouted over the chaos.

tup couldn’t believe his ears. “what could possibly be worse than this?!”

“even if we get to the doors, we’ll be shot before we can even open them!”

fives nodded in agreement as much as he could while in a mad sprint. that tiny detail did put a slight damper on their chances of escaping alive. but then again, echo was operating on the assumption that they had to stop to open the doors like a civilized person would. lucky for the three of them, fives could barely be considered civilized on his best days.

he brought a hand to his leather pouch and fished around for the malachite chunk with its intricate patterns and curious shape.

“what in the nine hells are you doing?! do you want to die here?!” tup shouted from beside him in frantic confusion. this was no time for fives to ogle his rock collection, they had to get out of here!

“echo! how far are we from the doors?!”

“a few hundred feet!”

“when we’re fifty feet out, turn on your lamp! i’ve got an idea!”

“this better not get us killed!”

fives would have turned on his own ages ago, but his had unfortunately been damaged on the way to the outpost (he tripped and hit his head on the trunk of one of the weirdest trees he’d ever seen, but if anyone asks he got punched). his feet pounded on the ground to the beat of his racing heart, hand loaded with what was about to be his and his brother’s saving grace.

his eyes were peeled, waiting for the moment echo’s headlamp flickered on and illuminated the doorway to the outside world. it felt like forever in those brief moments, but the moment the light flickered on it was like only seconds earlier he had fumbled for the stone.

it was divine intervention, or maybe it was the protective luck of the green stone he held in his hand. hell, it could have been some sort of protection you had put on him and the stone without him knowing. when he spotted the button that would guarantee his brothers’ safety and lobbed his malachite chunk at it, there was still part of him that doubted it would work.

but he heard a satisfying clink and a clatter, then saw the beginnings of a sunrise peek through the opening doors. echo nor tup could believe what just happened despite it happening right in front of his eyes. the sight of freedom, the closest to a guarantee for another day they’d had in hours, seemed to increase their already breakneck pace.

fives had no idea how it happened, but by some sheer force of luck (thanks malachite) he ended up kicking his stone ahead of them when they ran outside. gods he would have mourned his malachite if he had left it behind, but thankfully he didn’t have to. with the grace his training had blessed him with, he swooped down with one hand and snatched the stone from the ground without breaking his pace.

they didn’t stop running until they were on the outskirts of where they had set up camp, the trio collapsing to their knees when they heard familiar voices calling out their arrival. there was no telling how much longer they could have sprinted from that base high off the adrenaline of near death and awed disbelief, but the moment they felt the hands of brothers lifting them from the ground they were out like lights.

the first thing he registered was the near blinding pain in nearly every muscle of his body. everything was throbbing and tense, and oh how he could use a massage right about now. the second thing he noticed was the absence of his malachite in his fist. did he imagine picking it back up after opening the doors? was he going to have to explain to you how he lost one of your gifts the next time he saw you? he couldn’t think over an incessant beeping he couldn’t identify and-

“fives?... fives! hey, you’re okay, vod.” kix’s voice and comforting hand were soon bringing him back down.

“my malachite! where is it?!”

kix gave him a funny look about the fact the first thing he asks about is a rock, but obliges his brother’s question. “if you’re talking about the green one, it’s right here. looks like it got a little chip in it, though.” the relief on fives’s face perplexed the medic who was unsure as to how he would have chipped it in the first place when he was supposed to be in the middle of an op. he handed the rock to fives who familiarized himself once again with the shape of it, as if it were an old friend he was reuniting with after lost time.

“speaking of, what even happened out there? the last thing we hear from you is that the outpost was flooded with enemy forces, then next thing we know you’re all sprinting like mad men!”

“he’s a karking genius, that’s what!”

echo’s awake now and apparently cursing? as if that’s a thing he does regularly? and calling fives a genius? who was this man and what did he do with his batchmate?

without anyone egging him on, echo continues. “we’re runnin’ for our lives through th’ base, in near complete darkness, and i don’t think we’re gonna get out alive! we can’t get to the doors an’ stoppin’ to open ‘em would have gotten at least one of us shot, but then this bastard! this complete and utter bastard decides to throw one’a his rocks from his girlfriend at the button! and it works! the doors opened and we didn’t stop runnin’ till we got here!”

fives looked between kix and echo and back at kix again. “what kind of drugs did you give him?” kix’s reply was teetering between amusement and mild concern. “none, but i think he’ll be fine after some more sleep and food.”

“what’s this i hear about fives being a bastard?”

kix laughs at rex’s jab before moving to check on others that were in the medbay, knowing that he was subtly hinting that he wanted to speak to fives about the mission.

“just talked to tup,” rex began, taking a seat at the foot of fives’s cot. “he said that you wouldn’t have gotten out if it weren’t for your quick thinking but clocked out before i could get much more.”

fives chuckled at the image of tup falling asleep mid-sentence for a moment before rex continued. “based on what little he said, there was no way you were getting out of there. how did you do it?”

as he heard the story, rex was awed. this kind of thinking, the seat-of-your-pants strategies that saved the day when least expected to, it was exactly why he promoted him to arc trooper. he couldn’t help but feel a little proud. there was just one more question that’s been nagging at him since they were taken prisoner by the seppie civilians, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “what’s your deal with rocks these days?”

the grin that overtook the arc’s face was that of a lovesick loth-wolf pup.“i was given these protection crystals by a witch.” oh yes, fives’s cyare. rex remembers her well. “she didn’t tell me how to use them, but i seem to be getting the hang of it.”

before rex could give a reply, a loud bark of laughter was heard across the medbay.

“ey, what’s so funny?!”

“the way you’ve been using those crystals! that’s not how they work!” kix was now doubled over, holding his sides as if they were literally splitting. “oh stars, this shit’s priceless!”

“hey, kark it, asshole! it worked!” fives, in a brilliant moment of stupidity, decided to throw his malachite at the hysterical medic.

“oh, kriff! what was that for?!”

fives sat up and chuckled, whispering a humorous it worked! before kix was storming back to him, malachite in hand. oh shit, he was going to regret hitting kix with his rock later today, he just knew it.

#star wars reader insert #star wars fanfic #star wars imagines #star wars the clone wars #fives x reader #fives star performance #arc trooper fives #arc trooper fives x reader #ct-5555 #arc-5555 #swtcw #shitpost fics #shitpost writing prompts #shitpost fic masterlist #fives #fives imagine #arc trooper fives imagine

[zarathelonewolf]

Currently writing the first two chapters of my KNY AU... They're about the main OC, Masako, and how she exactly became a Demon Slayer. I'm gonna spoil you something: it wasn't really easy for her, since she was her father's only daughter, and he became more protective of her when he came back from a mission so gravely injured that he had to retire and become a cultivator: she had always trained with him before that moment and listened to his stories, and although he already knew the dangers of the profession his daughter wanted to choose... the dangers of the path he had chosen and that she wanted to follow... he had let her passion for training fester. That was because she was already showing some form of propensione for the Stone Breathing, which her father was expert of.

However, after his injury, even if he did let her train on her own as he occupied himself by training other apprentices as cultivator, he forbid Masako from ever becoming Demon Slayer: she could still train for leasure, or as a hobby, but now that Ryu (her father) had lost both his friends, an arm and a leg in his last mission, he really didn't want her to end up the same way he had.

Just like Hinata, one of Ryu's trainees, had told Masako one night before going to bed, when she asked him why Ryu didn't want to send her to a possible death but was OK doing so for other young promises... Ryu's only crime was loving her too much, and worrying like every parent would have in his shoes.

She rebels, one night, by taking his father's kusarigama while he sleeps and letting her frustrations go in the forest, using the weapon to create a whole opening among the trees. She knew the first forms of Stone Breathing by self-taching and observation of her father, so the devastation was pretty heavy. She was seen by Kaito, the apprentice Ryu was training at the time, and then scolded by her father and never allowed to train anymore... Not even in her free time, or with a staff, like she had done until her rebellion. He did so because he realized that, to keep her truly away from the world of Demon Slayers, he had to use a firmer hand. He ignored her when she started to try and make amends in the days afterwards, and the Masako Ryu had known until then started to fade: she treated him with immense but cold respect, tried busying herself by doing more "feminine" activities and spending more time with her mother instead of her father, didn't ask him for stories or stare at his training with apprentices anymore... she interacted much, much less.

Ryu realized that he had done something wrong: he had lit a fire in his daughter ever since she'd been eight by letting her train with him, and now that he had lost so much and retired and that she had grown up to fourteen years, in his attempts to shield her, he had severed a strong bond and turned her world upside down. He remembers her last words after the forest incident: she had said, utterly devastated, that the embers in her heart would never truly be set ablaze and that they would have never burned anything worthwhile... That all her efforts in the end were for nothing, and that she would have changed nothing through them.

Ryu, at some point, grows tired of the atmosphere and follows Kaito's suggestion: he writes to his old Sensei, his cultivator, Fukunaga. Since Fukunaga's style isn't to text back, he pops out in front of Ryu's house with his eagle to pay him a visit.

Fukunaga listens carefully to his former apprentice, then asks him to see his daughter and allow her to show him what she was truly capable of.

After examining Masako's performance, Fukunaga has a loooong talk with her father. Since he was affectionate towards his students, former and present, but didn't let it cloud his judgment, he concludes that it would be infinitely better for Masako to become a Demon Slayer instead of letting her fade away, and that if Ryu would keep being immovable, Fukunaga would have trained her himself, to ensure the hardships of her life as a Demon Slayer would be lightened by solid experience, training, and validation. He also observed that it would be wiser for him to contact "an old friend of his" to teach her the basics of Wind Breathing: she wasn't totally compatible with Stone Breathing, and the imput of Wind Breathing could allow her to develop a Form that would be perfectly fit for her: it wasn't the first time Fukunaga attempted joint training with another cultivator in tow.

He gives Ryu a week to decide, and then he leaves, after sparing an encouraging look to both father and daughter.

I bet you already know where this is going: Ryu allowed her to follow Fukunaga, and she swore to him that she would have come back after her eventual Selection, and every mission, to reassure him that she was alright.

During her training, which goes on until she's 16, she fuses Stone and Wind Breathing creating Diamond breathing: it uses two swords, one bigger than the other; the bigger one is used to charge the enemy, as shield even, and for the heavier strikes. The lighter one is used for feints, and strikes that require speed and precision. Trust me: it was incredibly wonky when she first developed it, and Fukunaga and Igarashi (her cultivators) had discouraged her idea in the beginning, but as unstable as her first version of the style was, she survived the selection...splendidly,might I add, even getting herself a friend.

She becomes Pillar when she's 18,almost 19,after destroying a draconic demon on her own: a Lower Moon that swam noisily and messily in a river, making it flood often and becoming the doom of the nearby villages. She gained three ugly scars on the left side of her face, maiming her left cheek and her chin,and one on her back, but her smile stayed just as fierce and her eyes never wavered, even if one of them was milky and her smile looked scary as hell because of the wound; she was lucky she didn't loose mobility of that side at all. Her Hashira alias is Diamond Pillar, from her now almost perfected Breathing Style. She makes best friends with the old Stone Hashira and the Shadow Hashira. Shadow Breathing, for those curious, derives from Wind and Water Breathing: his main holder bonds with Masako because their styles both developed by fusing two already known techniques, and the Stone Hashira respects her efforts. Shadow breathing will become lost in the Canon era because of his holder's misterious death; don't worry, he isn't the one that has the demon friend. He dies while on spy duty: he had infiltrated Douma's Cult, and Masako is sent there with his tsuguko as replacement of the Shadow Pillar... The same mission in which her tsuguko will lose his humanity, and immediately rebel Douma's influence out of pure spite and conviction, saving some prisoners and his teacher in the process.

Masako sees the Stone Hashira retire and leave the spot to Gyomei Himejima (19 years old) when she is 23,and gets her own tsuguko when she is 26: her tsuguko, Kai, is extremely bubbly and optimist to a fault, and she has become more serious with age, but they get along nevertheless.

She is 29 and he is 17 when they investigate the Shadow Hashira's disappearance in Douma's cult and Kai becomes a Demon.

When they are far away from Douma's clutches and sure that he isn't interested in the pursue anymore, Masako has to make a tough choice: but even if her tsuguko agrees with her that she has the duty to kill him and offers himself to justice, she chooses to spare him in the end. She tells him to regain his optimism, because his rebellion has shown her that he would be on the Demon Lsayers side no matter what, and he was still fighting his new monstrous instincts as they spoke, so there was still plenty of humanity in his heart.

In her report, she writes that Kai was lost when they evaded Douma's Cult because he covered her escape with the civilians, and that other infiltrations of the Cult were discouraged.

She spends a whole year helping her former tsuguko, hidden in a cave close to her very narrow den, manage his cravings for human flesh with every method immaginable: she fed him wild animals, exercised in meditation, and allowed him to sleep much more once she understood that it would inhibit the stronger fits of hunger. She neglected her duties as a result, worrying her colleagues, especially the very perceptive Gyomei. They were already suspicious because her report had, um, "plot holes" so to speak, but they had dismissed them believing that it was hindered by her recent loss. It was the other reason they gave to her difficulty of going on missions... But they became flabbergasted when, at 30 years old, she disappeared. Like, just, poofed out of existence. She didn't participate to an Hashira meeting, and the now super-worried Himejima charged himself with the duty to check out her den and ensure that she was alright.

When he entered, he immediately felt the stench of human blood, and... and of a Demon. He had touched the walls and the floor, and realized they were caked with blood: there were no plot holes that time, a fight had happened. Her den had been well hidden, but a Demon had clearly managed to get there. He didn't find a corpse anywhere, not even in the area around the narrow house in the mountains, and using his hyper-sensitivity, he had concluded that Masako had likely been killed a week before... and none of them had noticed. Not even finding her crow, he stopped his investigation and called an emergency meeting, explaining his findings.

Little did they know, Masako had realized that she couldn't hide anymore and that they may have found out about Kai's condition, so she had to enact a fake death: she made Kai use some of his Blood Demon Art to give the feel of a demon's attack, and wounded herself on her forearms and her shoulder, not fatally, but she still splashed the blood on the walls, and then ran away with Kai. She also let him destroy some trees and rocks of the place, and part of her house.

Kai would, again, beg her to kill him, because he still somehow saw himself as an hindrance, a burden, that she had to bear and that had led her to abandon her higher responsibilities. It was his fault that they were on the run, and with an unknown future, now.

Masako, though, is adamant: she chose to stay by his side out of her own volition and following the evidence that he was still human deep down and that his demonic instincts wouldn't win anytime soon, so his condition could be managed. She tells him that they can still fight the un repenting demons without necessarily being Slayers, and that they had new options to reconsider: all the while, they would stand by each other.

Kai is finally convinced. He lets out a roar and he finally curses Douma and Muzan by yelling their names, without dying in the process: thus confirming that he has fully severed his connection to the two, and Muzan's Name Curse doesn't bind him anymore. Kai then follows Masako.

So... For those of you that have gotten until this point: congratulations.

This is, at the moment, Masako and Kai's story. Know that they will meet the rebellious demons later during their self exile,and they still slay bad demons on their own as the White Spirits, two vigilantes.

They will meet the Slayers in the Canon age, when Masako is 34 and Kai is... Um... Oh geez.

How old would he be? 25,maybe,but since he is a demon... I dunno, is it really important?

Remember, this is FANON MATERIAL. THE ORIGINAL WORK IS GOTOUGE-SENSEI PROPERTY, KIMETSU NO YAIBA, AND I CLAIM IT IN NO WAY. MY FANFICTION AND FANARTS ARE NON PROFIT, AND I OWE THE INSPIRATION TO THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR.

See ya!

#kny #demon slayer #kny au #kny OCs #kny fanfiction #kny fic #Masako KNY OC #Kai KNY OC #Fukunaga KNY OC #Ryu KNY OC #Hinata KNY OC #Kaito KNY OC #Demon KNY OCs #this is but an AU of kny #which doesn't belong to me #it' gotouge Sensei's work #this is all non profit #do not steal the OCs

[brokenjardaantech]

Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 1: Beginnings, never expected)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang​. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

chapter summary:

In the past, Sara schemed.

In the present, Connor meets Hank for the first time.

In the past, someone called.

also on ao3

---

Before

Family was instructed to wait outside the room during the final check-up, so she complied and made a call while keeping an eye on the doctors and nurses in charge of her brother; they were much better than the ones in the previous hospital with a far gentler touch and humane approach, but she had had enough people snitching on her, and, after tapping the glass to gouge its integrity, she would not hesitate to flare up and use her powers to break down everything standing between her and her only sibling.

The door to the outer room opened to admit another woman holding a phone, and both of them hung up the call once they saw each other. The new visitor closed the distance between them and moved as if wanting to give the sister a hug, but her arms lowered upon seeing the tension in the sister’s body.

‘Not now,’ she said. ‘Do not celebrate yet.’

‘And neither will being on guard every single second bring you any good, Sara,’ the visitor replied. ‘It will only hurt you and cloud your judgement.’

‘There is no other acceptable opinion,’ the sister - Sara - pressed her thumb against the bottom of the glass. ‘My father tried to send my brother to a boarding school despite fully knowing that they can’t accommodate for his needs, my brother said no, my father forced him to, my brother would rather die than be sent to a hostile environment, and I got him away from our father. I saved him, Amanda, but with my father’s resources, do you really think there’s a place in the country where we won’t be hunted down? So no,’ she shoved the hand into her pocket, leaving a burn mark in the shape of her thumb behind on the glass, ‘I am not relaxing until we have disappeared off the face of earth for good.’

‘It’s hardly a viable plan for us, Sara,’ there was resignation in Amanda’s voice. ‘My guardianship isn’t secure. Scott requires constant medical attention. I know you look highly upon me, but I’m not invincible. Against people like your father…’

Sara raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘And you don’t think I have a plan already?’

Amanda turned her head to take a good look at her student. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ she said at last. ‘It isn’t that I don’t have faith in your abilities, it’s just -’

The door to Scott’s room opened. All medical personnel except for the doctor-in-charge of the boy started vacating the ward. Watching them leave one by one, Amanda pressed her lips together and only resumed when the door was clicked shut behind the last nurse. ‘I have seen people like you. My classmates, my friends, my colleagues. The ones who are successful all know which battles to pick.’

The girl flexed her hand. ‘And those who don’t?’

‘Destroyed, one way or another.’

Sara’s face twisted as if she wanted to laugh but couldn’t, and then her expression softened. ‘Don’t worry, Amanda,’ she said in a reassuring tone. ‘I’ll be careful.’

She entered her brother’s ward while Amanda waited outside. Not only did the teacher not look convinced, the lines on her face only seemed to deepen more from her student’s response as if foreseeing a doomed future for the two of them, not knowing that indeed, things would turn towards a direction totally unexpected to them - and the entire world.

oOoOo

Now

A lone figure stands in the rain, its form dark save for the neon blue triangle on his back and left shoulder plus the armband on its right arm. The drive from the precinct to its current location is bland, nothing like - nothing as stimulating - as…

As…

So Connor calibrates. Turned up his skin’s sensitivity to feel the change in current as he went through the air-conditioning settings one by one. Turned it down again as he emerged from the taxi into the rain to prevent his processors from overloading. Collected information on the rainwater. pH value below levels which can sustain a balanced ecosystem. Minimal contaminants. Suitable for human consumption. When the analysis is finished, he takes out the coin bestowed upon him from one of his developers - at least, according to Ryder. Connor’s memory banks are unable to provide further information on the matter as there were no other relevant memories. 

Another figure which Connor did not notice was there suddenly vanished, its sudden absence alerting him of its existence. He turns his head, his world becoming shades of grey and yellow outlines as he scans his immediate vicinity, and, discovering nothing notable or dangerous, lets the frozen, imaginary world fall away and reality return with all its vivid colours. Calculating the probability of Lieutenant Anderson being in this bar is simple, and therefore he flips his coin to do some further calibrations.

A swathe of blue surrounds the coin and it stays at its highest point.

LED flashing red in alarm, Connor hastily grabs the coin from its position in midair and jolts as it sends a spark through his system, the thirium in his body distributing oddly against the normal flow like… like a conductor suddenly connected to a closed circuit and the free electrons within suddenly having a direction, one that - one that -

The same blue halo sweeps through the surface of his body, too faint to be noticed by ordinary humans but clearly caught by Connor’s sensitive optic units. The shadow shifts again, ducking out of the android’s sight despite being right there, and subsequent scans also fail to pick it up again.

He is being watched. That is certain.

It is getting unsafe to stand in the street alone any longer, so Connor pockets his coin and fixes his tie, steeling himself for yet another unsuccessful search for the Lieutenant. He ignores the ‘No Androids Allowed’ sign on the door and pushes.

o0o0o

Turns out Hank is easily bribed by alcohol. Sated by the double shot of whiskey, the human’s interest is piqued, and with a sharp ‘Did you way homicide?’, he stands and walks out of the bar as if he has not been consuming heavy liquor for the past few hours. The shadow which has been following Connor vanishes as soon as they are out on the streets, the static-charged air it leaves behind quickly washed away by the rain. Hank insisting on driving worsens matters as it allocates more than enough processing power for Connor to pay heightened attention towards his surroundings: the hum of the old engine, the squeak of the dashboard decoration as it swings, the vibration of the speakers as Hank blasts heavy metal. 

The shadow which reappears as they approach Carlos Ortiz’s house, always out of his sight and never detected by his proximity sensors.

He cannot worry too much, however, when he chooses to follow his original mission and get out of the car, the smell assaulting his nose and the roof of his mouth and very nearly overloading his senses. He sneezes - a response programmed to clear the smell from his nose while his sensitivity is toned down - and is startled by how… strong… it is: a full-body tremor and expulsion of air that takes the colour out of his HUD for a few milliseconds before his eyes recalibrate automatically and return to normal. The noise also draws the attention of a few passers-by whose faces display [emotion identified: shock] when they see the neon-blue band on Connor’s arm and the triangle on his left breast. He ignores them, and a few steps later he encounters his first problem.

‘Androids are not permitted beyond this point,’ the PC200 android holds up a hand. Connor could have easily overpowered it and barge his way in, but that will be against protocol and is not beneficial towards the investigation, therefore he shuts down his pre-construction software before it can give him any suggestions. 

Hank turns from where he was talking to an officer and lets him in. ‘It’s with me,’ he says, but the sense of familiarity is gone completely when Connor approaches him. ‘What part of “stay in the car” didn’t you understand?’

‘Your order contradicted my instructions, Lieutenant,’ Connor answers honestly. Surely the human understands?

Hank’s face scrunches slightly in distaste. ‘You don’t talk, you don’t touch anything, and you stay outta my way,’ he rattles, ‘got it?’

‘Got it,’ is the android’s too-quick reply. 

The human turns towards the entrance of the house just to be greeted by another detective. A scan tells Connor that he is [Detective Collins, Ben. Born: 09/12/1989. Police Detective. Criminal record: none]. ‘Evening, Hank,’ he sounds too [cheerful] for the situation. Descending the veranda, he continues, ‘We were starting to think you weren’t gonna show -’

‘Yeah, it was the plan until this asshole -’ Hank gestures at Connor - ‘found me.’

‘So…’ Collins’ voice is [emotion detected: teasing] when he turns away, ‘you got yourself an android, huh?’

Hank gives a good look at Connor. ‘Oh, very funny.’ [emotion detected: sarcasm] A small sigh. ‘Just tell me what happened.’

He ignores the android and follows Collins into the house, leaving Connor alone in his own device. He is not bothered by how they do not include him in the conversation; he can always tune his ears to their voices and record everything down, so being near them is not a priority. He can analyse the scene as he wishes, Connor realises as his world goes grey save for the yellow of the evidence markers.

Fantastic.

o0o0o

The first thing Connor notices is the abnormal electrical damage. The house itself is nearly in ruins, the floor grey from a layer of dust, the walls cracked and mouldy and, in some places, even falling apart and exposing the wooden beams, but the damage seems recent - as recent as the body they discovered, at least. The damage on the curtains are also new, their ends torn and the remains scattered on the ground, and he gets zapped by the static discharge when he pushes them to the side. It is not painful per se, but it comes as a surprise.

‘You found something?’

It is Hank’s second time asking the question. He stands tall for a hungover man, taller than Connor standing at his full height, and the android finds himself wondering what the Lieutenant looked like when he was in the red ice task force. Probably even taller. Even stronger.

‘There is a copious amount of electrical damage on the walls,’ he answers as he adjusts his eyes to view the backyard better. There are fresh footsteps on the soil. ‘And there is an abnormal amount of static in objects. I suggest handling evidence with care.’

‘Yeah, I don’t remember the last time I’ve been zapped this much.’ Hank also squints at the dirty glass. ‘Door’s locked from the inside. Killer must’ve gone out this way.’

Connor runs a scan. ‘There are no footprints apart from officer Collins’ size ten shoes.’

Hank straightens and crosses his arms. ‘Well, this happened weeks ago. Tracks could’ve faded.’

Comparing data… ‘No, this type of soil would have retained a trace,’ he explains as he catches the Lieutenant’s gaze. ‘Nobody’s been out here for a long time.’

Hank looks away with a grunt as if dissatisfied with the results, and Connor, having analysed everything notable, pushes on. ‘Lieutenant, I think I’ve figured out what happened.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Hank shrugs. ‘Shoot. I’m all ears.’

‘It all started…’ the mess in the kitchen flashes in front of Connor’s eyes, ‘in the kitchen.’

Hank uncrosses his arms. They enter the kitchen together, and the human has to duck to go through the door frame. ‘There’re obvious signs of a struggle, but the question is,’ Hank turns towards the android, ‘what exactly happened here.’

‘I think the victim attacked the android,’ comparing evidence… ‘with the bat.’

Hank perks up. ‘That lines up with the evidence.’ Connor hopes that he isn’t imagining the smile on the human’s face. ‘Go on.’

They switch places, Hank’s arm brushing against Connor’s shoulder in the confined space. He is warm even through the coat, and Connor finds his software warning him of instabilities as the edges of his HUD flashes red for a millisecond. ‘The android stabbed the victim.’

‘So the android was trying to defend itself, right? Okay, then what happened?’

‘The victim fled to…’ recalling re-construction… ‘the living room.’

They follow the silhouette of two struggling figures; more like Connor follows them - Hank just follows him. ‘And he tried to get away from the android,’ the human says, a swing in his arms. He does not look pleased being back near the half-charred, rotting body. ‘Alright, that makes sense.’

‘The android murdered the victim…’ he wants to say the knife, but it did not cause the unexplained burns and broken bones. He runs a search again to compare the wounds (electrical burns, severe blunt force trauma) and does not realise that he has trailed off until Hank speaks up.

‘Well, obviously he got stabbed and burnt,’ the frown on his face deepens. ‘You can’t stab someone without a knife, but what about the rest? The android short-circuited and fried its owner?’

Connor draws up experimental data from CyberLife and compares it to the current needed to cause the damage in front of his eyes. ‘No. It is unlikely for androids to short-circuit, and even if that is the case, the current is not large enough to cause severe burns on humans. Common household models are unable to reach the speed capable of generating enough force to break an adult’s femur either.’

‘But it doesn’t tell us where the android went. If we find it, we can just ask.’

Connor finds himself… liking that line of thought. ‘It was damaged by the bat and lost some thirium.’

‘Lost some what?’

‘Thirium, you call it “blue blood”,’ the android explains as he secretly adds [Hank is not familiar with android mechanics.] into his file. ‘It is the fluid that powers androids’ biocomponents. It evaporates after a few hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye.’

‘Oh…’ Understanding dawns in Hank’s eyes and he smiles, approval in his voice. ‘But I bet you can still see it, can you?’

The edge of Connor’s HUD turns red again as thirium rushes onto his face, and he looks away to begin scanning, not to hide his blush but to quickly search for the deviant. Now that he knows what he is looking for, the blue of evaporated Thirium 310 contrasting starkly with the grey the rest of the world has changed into and forming a trail leading to… a dead end. What he can see, however, is the shadow of a ladder that used to be there, so he looks up and - there. A handprint.

Hank follows his gaze despite not being able to see the trace. ‘You think it’s up there?’

‘I’ll need something to climb.’ Find something to climb, his processor offers, so he turns towards the human and asks, ‘Hank, may I climb you?’

‘Oh for fuck’s -’ Connor’s face must have changed and caused the man to stop ranting, but exactly what that is, the android is not certain. ‘Alright, Jesus, gimme a sec.’ A deep breath. ‘Yeah. How do you want to do it?’

‘Please hold me up, Lieutenant.’

Connor drapes himself on Hank’s back, and the human, finally getting what Connor means, places his arms underneath the android’s thighs and lifts him with a grunt. With his thighs at Hank’s waist, the extra height allows Connor to easily slide the trapdoor to one side. Hank lets go without being prompted to let the android climb further up.

‘I’ll wait here,’ he says as he pops his spine back in place. ‘Yell if you need anything.’

‘Got it,’ he whispers even though the Lieutenant probably cannot hear him. Already missing the human's warmth, he hoists himself fully into the dark attic - 

- and everything hits him. The static, the floating pieces of furniture, the eerie blue glow they give out; the hum in the air, the strange force threatening to tear him apart on the molecular level, the distortion of - he doesn’t know anymore. He has never seen anything like this before, there is nothing in his databases that talks about scenarios like this, and he is very glad that Hank did not come up with him. [Kinetic barrier at 100%] appears on his HUD, but he has no idea what it means.

A piece of cloth waves despite the absence of wind, and since it is blocking his sight, Connor brushes it away and hunches so that he doesn't hit his head against the supporting beams while he watches, fascinated, the fabric float away in a wave of white against the darkness of the room and get caught in the splinters of a beam. He continues forward, at first brushing a few pieces of furniture aside and causing them to fly straight to the other side of the attic, then holding them in both his hands and gently moving them away. If he must speak in an analogy, he would equate it to rearranging furniture: randomly pushing them will send them towards unpredictable directions, but if you lift them and put them exactly where you want them to be, they will not move away. The only difference is that vertical distance is also considered.

[Kinetic barrier at 64%]

A loud crash. Connor’s head snaps towards the direction of the noise just to see a broken mannequin sailing directly towards him across the air. Catching the rapidly-approaching footsteps, he swats the mannequin away and dashes across the source, his veins tingling in an unfamiliar power as he runs into the blue distortions supporting some of the larger furniture and sending them either crashing onto the floor or flying unpredictably away from him; he can faintly hear Hank’s ‘The fuck’s going on up there, Connor?’, but his attention is divided between pre-constructing the deviant and the furniture’s path. The deviant probably knows where he is now, but then again, deviants are known to be unstable and act illogically, so he decides against answering the Lieutenant to attract less attention. 

One final crash. The last wisp of blue breaks and dissipates, plunging the entire attic into darkness except for the yellow glow of an android’s LED. All footsteps halt. 

[No gravitational anomalies detected. Kinetic barrier deactivated.]

The room suddenly lights up again, and the deviant is right there in front of Connor, its face a look of utter [emotion identified: terror]. His HUD flashes with warnings about abnormal thirium flow, and Connor realises that he is the one glowing blue all over and lighting up his immediate vicinity. The tingle in his circuits, the crackle of static, the distortion in front of his eyes - they now originate from within himself instead of his surroundings. 

[DEVIANT LOCATED]

Connor adjusts his eyes for the impending darkness. He relaxes by overriding his muscles, and despite the darkness engulfing them once more, he can see the blood spattered on the deviant’s skin and clothes, the exposed chassis on his arms, the burn marks all over its body. It is to no one’s surprise that it says, ‘I was just defending myself.’ A trembling breath. Red starts to appear at the edge of Connor’s vision. ‘He was gonna kill me. I’m begging you…’ The deviant never stops shaking, and the red climbs towards the centre of his HUD for the first time in his existence, ‘don’t tell them.’

For one split second, the red completely takes over Connor’s sight and forms a crumbling wall a few feet in front of him. A figure - himself, Connor realises - hesitantly steps forward and slides a hand into a crack in the wall, fingers curling in and tearing a piece of it away.

‘Connor, if you don’t answer this second I’ll haul my fat ass up there!’

It is Hank. His warning reminds Connor that he still has a mission to complete, and the red wall recedes as if it is never there. Raising his voice, he shouts without tearing his gaze away from the deviant - 

‘- It’s here, Lieutenant!’

‘Holy shit… Chris, Ben, get your asses in here now!’

The deviant’s expression alone is enough to turn half of Connor’s HUD red again, but even that fails to hide the shadow disappearing from the corner of his line of sight. One thing is sure: either there is a critical error in his software…

Or there is someone following him.

oOoOo    

Before

Somewhere, a figure bearing surprising resemblance to Captain Allen stood with their hands behind their back in front of a large plane of window and stared at a blue sunset and an endless expanse of red desert, and when they shifted, blue light reflected off their face to reveal thin wires outlining every muscle, every nerve, every piece of bone that formed their head. There was tension in their jaw, their temple, and soon we knew what caused it.

‘It doesn’t sound safe,’ they said to no one in particular. ‘As much as I hate to admit it, we need you. Our future is out here. Earth can rot.’

They did not speak for the next few seconds, but when they did, it was something like, ‘I’m glad that you plan to uphold your side of the contract,’ they said sarcastically and turned serious, ‘but I still don’t like where this is going. So many things can go wrong and none of them knows which side you are on. You’ll be caught in the crossfire.’ A pause. ‘I trust your ability and your intellect. What I don’t trust is the stupidity of the general public. That’s why we left. Why we moved forward.’

Whatever the other side of the call made them frown. ‘Then how many years will you wait for? Five? Ten? Twenty? I know you’re smart, Ryder, but that’s just fucking stupid.’ A deep breath and they went on, ‘Not everyone is fucking immortal. How long do they design the androids to last again? Ten years? How many more will die before you leisurely stroll in and burn everything within a fifty-mile radius to the grounds just like last time? How much time do we have before someone points their telescope or satellites in the right way and somehow bypasses all our shields and finds out what’s out here, where I’m standing right now, or what Charon actually is? We get out of that shithole specifically to prepare the world for all of this!’ 

They inhaled as if to calm themself down, and then, ‘Don’t flatter me, Administrator, and you still have that unfinished project you sneaked out right under your dear papa’s nose. Of all your talk about android humanity, you sure as fuck leave a lot of them behind.’ They rubbed their eyes, and when they opened again, glowing rings akin to the lens of a camera were edged on sea-green irises. ‘Fine fucking fine. Make sure to win. Anchor out.’

A loud sigh. Blue tendrils the same as the ones the deviant summoned snaked out of their body and supported their back as they fell backwards, but it did not last long as they straightened and walked through stark white hallways, entering a room at last after passing through a few doors and one that seemed to be an airlock. It was dimly lit by the glow from a pod placed at the farthest corner and the screens connected to it and wires ran like a nest on the floor, however the person seemed to know their way through without tripping and reached a holographic keyboard where they typed something to start a total system diagnostics, and as the screen darkened and the keyboard disappeared to prevent the further input of commands, they manoeuvered themself through the wires to stand at the head of the pod and placed a glowing hand on a hidden interface. The glass allowed them to see the face of the android sleeping in the pod.

Connor’s face.

#dbh au big bang #hankcon #female ryder #male ryder #amanda stern #dbh connor #dbh hank anderson #oc: anchor/anna #detroit: become human #mass effect andromeda #groom lake aftermath

[msrosey]

Ok- What if Shadow was Good and Amy was anti. Would Amy be the one who makes first moves or is it still Shadow?

This spawned far too much world building, i apologize in advance 

- set during the Dark Arms invasion, with the usual anti-Amy behavior where she hates Sonic and has her trusty warhammer. Twisting her a little bit so she’s not as childish, but still as messed up. Reminder that anti-Amy goes as Rosy the Rascal!  

- there’s no official anti-Shadow, so let’s just say the canon divergence here was that Maria /didn’t/ die via GUN raid and instead lived a longer life that was ultimately cut short by her condition. Shadow then never gains his gloom and doom persona and instead is more of a caretaker to her, albeit one with a MAJOR guilt complex for his creation not being able to cure her, and went in suspended animation until the Black Comet returns. 

Now onto the show!

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AO3, for those that prefer! 

.

 Of all the things Rosy thought would end the world, alien invasion had been worrying low on her list. Inter-dimensional police force with the proper permits to take them all in? Pfft, sure. That freak echnida deciding the best way to destroy the emeralds was to blow up the planet? Wouldn’t have bet money on it, but why not? Even the idea of one of Robotnik’s helper bots going postal was more likely then, well—this. 

From the flying headquarters, Rosy could see the plumes of smoke rising from patches of scorched city. Flying dark specters zoomed over the land below, all light cast in a bloody sheen from the planetary sized comet hanging in the sky. 

She pressed closer to the glass, smiling at the view. Red always was her favorite—

“Amy,” a voice snapped behind her, haughty and suffocatingly uptight. Like the little twerp it belonged to. Rosy rolled her eyes. Still, she turned and gave the fox her signature crooked smile.

“Tails,” Rosy crooned, leaning against her green war hammer. “I was just stopping to smell the sulphur flowers. Something up?"

The fox looked annoyed, but Rosy knew that was typical for the stuck-up brat. “You may address me as Miles. Have you been paying attention to the meeting at all?"

Rosy batted her lashes, fixing her gaze on him and ignoring the crowd of people around the conference room. “Of course, Tails. Alien invasion. Comet’s gonna destroy the planet. Yada-yada-yada, I’m not good enough to fix it myself!” At the last part she mimicked talking with her hand in the fox’s signature serious tone. 

Miles narrowed his eyes, but didn’t rise to the bait. Boring. “Yes, this endeavor will require all of our strengths in order to succeed. And you’re aware of your part in the mission?”

A tingle ran down her back at the reminder, putting every single spine on edge. Rosy's grin turned manic. “Yep! I’m gonna hurt Sonic! Mangle him, bash him, crush him up, up, up!”

“Quite,” Miles said, raising a brow. “Your portion is critical, since as long as Sonic is guarding the remaining Beryl for Black Death on Demon Island, our plan stands little chance of succeeding.”

Thoughts of brutally maiming the hedgehog of her nightmares spun around Rosy's head, making her feel flushed. The planet’s destruction was one thing, and a thing she didn’t care much about, but Sonic— Well, the end of the world just wouldn’t feel right if he wasn’t absolutely bloody destroyed. She would have just tried on her own, as she always did, but these Black Arms were quite the heavy customers...and who was she do decline an offer from Miles Prowler to step aboard his exclusive gunship? 

He gathered an interesting group as well. Her gaze trailed over to the museum curator, Rogue, whose poofy purple dress was splattered in the green blood of the aliens. Probably had a fun run in with them when they were going for the last stash of emeralds in the Central Museum. Besides her was Knuckles, whose drive to destroy all the emeralds would have made him a genuine threat…if he wasn’t such a total wimp. Vanilla though, Rose knew she’d have to keep an eye on. As if to prove it, the leather clad rabbit was already looking at her, permanent sneer fixed on her scarred face. 

Ugh, assassins. Always so eager to intimidate. Rose rolled her eyes as Miles. The rabbit had eyes on her for a while, which would account for why Rosy had been so on edge since setting foot on the ship…unless, of course her internal tracking was picking up—

From beside her, someone cleared his throat. 

“Um, excuse me, Sir Prowler?” Doctor Kintobor was already wringing his hands, voice trembling. “I understand that the Black Arms need to be defeated, but maybe we can just…move them to another planet? I do so hate causing any harm to a sentient…um, sentient species. They do deserve to live too...”

Miles looked about to cause harm, but also like he severely doubted that the doctor was sentient. “Their lives are not worth more than our own. And this Black Comet of theirs threatens that. Or do you have a better plan, Doctor, hmm? Maybe ask them nicely to commit genocide in the next solar system?”

Doctor Kintobor flushed at the laughter that filled the room. “Oh, um, I suppose.”

“Besides, we have it on good intel that the Dark Arms have planned this invasion for some time. They will not be easily dissuaded and we only have one real source on their behavior,” Miles continued, casting a dark eye around the room, “And on that note…” His eyes landed on hers. Rosy tensed. “Vanilla, restrain her."

Rosy barely had enough time to call out cowards before the floppy eared assassin tackled her down, breaking her connection with her hammer. Metal clasps rose from the floor and locked her in place, leaving her to thrash. Beryl enforced metal, cause he was a wimp. Stupid Tails and his stupid inventions! 

“Apologies for the rough treatment, but we all know you can handle it,” Miles continued, posture immaculate. “And we couldn’t take the risk of you attacking our next guest.”

Touching her. People were touching her! Rosy struggled against the rabbit holding her down, baring full fangs at the room. 

“Um, maybe we should be, a little nicer…?” Rosy heard Dr. Kintober say weakly. “We do need her to take out Sonic and help defeat the Black Arms.”

“Correction,” Miles said cooly, “We need her and our guest to do that. And she already has a proven violent predisposition towards those of his species. You can see how we'd rather not take the risk, Doctor.”

Species...

Rosy’s head swam as the pieces began to connect themselves. She knew she’d felt something, she knew, knew, knew, one of them was on this ship. A— 

The doors of the gunship conference room opened and a familiar silhouette filled the doorway. 

“Sonic!” Rosy roared, bucking the assassin off her with one sharp movement. Her hammer flew across the room and slammed into her chains, breaking them into so many fine pieces. Emeralds, Beryl, whatever you called them, always were weak against some solid willpower. Rosy launched herself over the table and towards the figure, weapon in hand. Her mind raced with thoughts of the extra special smash she’d been saving up for him.

Just as Rosy got close enough to really savor the impending violence, a bright purple light filled the air. And when it disappeared, so did the rest of the room.

She blinked her eyes, rubbing hard as she found herself…atop the gunship? Tail’s stupid Anticyclone. Wind buffeted her sideways and Rosy dig her hammer into the steel hull to keep balance. How did—

“Sorry to alarm you, but a fight inside would have crashed the gunship,” someone said behind her. Rosy spun, launching out with her hammer. The hedgehog - because it was a hedgehog, her instincts were always right - only moved, speeding away on…hover boots?

“Aw, did you get some new toys, Sonic?” Rosy cooed, crouching low to keep from sliding off the ship. Stupid Tails was starting evasive maneuvers. How cute. “You know how I love breaking your new toys.”

“I am not Sonic—“

“But you’re a hedgehog!”

She rushed forward at the next tilt of the ship, this time managing to surprise him enough to get close. Then another purple light and he was gone. Rosy pouted, turning to look around the surface of the ship. “No fun, disappearing all the time. Don’t you want to play?"

Something dark zipped by her, knocking her hammer from her hands. Rosy watched it sail over the edge of the gunship, disappearing in the grey smoke fumes below. “Hey!”

The blur came to a stop a few feet away, his form more clear. A black and red hedgehog, although with spines a little too raised to be her Sonic’s, even with another of his color switches. Rosy glared. “That wasn’t nice! I just wanted to hurt you!” 

The hedgehog looked at her with odd eyes, tilting his head. “Why?”

Rosy made a face. “Why, what?”

“Why do you want to hurt me? Is it because I resemble this Sonic of yours?” His voice was even, betraying none of his emotions. It put Rosy on edge. No one was that calm without a plan. He continued, “What has this Sonic done to inspire such vengeance? To drive you to violence? Is he worth it?”

“Worth…” Rosy wasn’t sure whether to laugh or attack him for those words. So she did both. “Who cares about worth!"

The dark hedgehog only dodged her punches, keeping that same face of unruffled intent. “So you attack for the sake of it? For…fun?”

Now he sounded like that wuss echnida. Pacifist was just another word for coward. Rosy snarled. “Stop running away! I hate it when you run away. Stand and fight me, already!”

“No,” he said simply, ducking another attack. “Because I’m not your enemy. Why is Sonic?” 

Why was—why was—Sonic? Now Rosy did laugh, this time pausing her assault to do so. Why was Sonic her enemy? Why? In this horrible dimension where everything went wrong, someone actually had the nerve to ask why? An odd empty feeling filled her gut. 

Why was a stupid question to ask about enemies. How was always the more enlightening. Memories began to trickle in, images of a burning forest and screaming hoglets. Memories she’d long ago forced herself to forget. Her fists clenched. The answer ripped itself from her throat—

“Because he’s Sonic!”

This time her attack took him by surprise, and he only barely managed to slide out of the way on his stupid cheat hover boots. Her fist left a distinct imprint on the hull of the ship and Rosy could faintly hear Miles cursing a blue streak from the pilot deck. Whoopsie, another toy smacked around by an uncaring hedgehog. 

She thought he’d be used to it by now.

The memories roused by the thought only fueled her rage. Not her normal simmer, no, this time it was tinged with that ugly empty desperation from so long ago. Rosy flew at the hedgehog again, screaming. “Because he never takes anything seriously!”

Another kick, this time sloppy enough that he had more than enough time to move out of the way. Rosy slipped in the empty space where he'd just been, falling a sharp ways down the hull until she managed to launch herself back up. The lack of contact with him was beginning to grate, remind her of the times when…

“Because he’d ruin everything and just keep running from it!” It was getting darker, her steps harder to place. Meanwhile the other hedgehog looked as if he could do this all day with his stupid cheating hover boots and weird emerald powers. He didn’t even look as if he’d broke a sweat. 

Just like—

Amy-Rosy-Rosy cried out as swung again, “Because he ruined everything and wouldn’t even take me seriously!”

That caused something to bloom on the other hedgehog’s face, but Rosy was past the niceties of taunting. And that had been quite enough stalling. She feinted for his legs - stupid, stupid hedgehog legs - and just as he leapt out of the way, she grinned. He caught it, frowning in response, just in time for her hammer to soar from the clouds below and catch him.

In the gut.

Rosy grinned. Always nice to get a little cheap shots in. That always managed to humble a hedgehog. He fell back, sliding against the entirety of the ship’s top hull. Her hammer still with him, only to return to her open hand. She smiled at the sight of him laid low. “Aw, was that too good an answer for you?”

He groaned. Rosy giggled a little, flush with pride. From here she could almost pretend it was Sonic, finally stopped. What a thought. She leaned against her hammer, still smiling. “Let me give you some advice, new hedgehog. People are basically awful and are always going to find a reason to hurt others. You might as well stop giving them chances."

The gunship swerved again, but Rosy moved with it, making an odd little dance towards the hedgehog. He was already rising, but that was fine. That just meant she could smash him some more. She readied her warhammer as she got close, humming a senseless tune, “And pop goes your—“

The world went sideways. Rosy had enough time to catch the brief sight of long ears flapping - how did all of them know how to fly with no wings! Cheats! - just as she was kicked off the edge of the gunship. She dug in her hammer on the side, metal screeching, but there wasn’t enough side left. Vanilla’s stern face looked down at her as she fell.

No fun, Rosy thought, I didn’t even get to break Sonic first.

Her ears popped at the pressure of air around her and Rosy felt her gaze track over to the giant comet in the sky, still glowing. What a lovely color. At least her last sight would be —

Red.

Red eyes staring right at her, an odd look in them that Rosy hadn’t seen for longer than she could remember. The hedgehog was just above her, so close she could see the sweat flying from his brow His spines were being blown astray and his hover boots were struggling to boost him forward but still, his face was determined. He had her hammer in one hand and the other hand, outstretched...towards her.

Rosy only stared. 

There was no—no reason—saving her? Her? No one had ever—

His fangs were bared in strain as he stretched his arm further. 

Just as they broke the cloud cover and the gunship was almost just a dot in the sky, Rosy found herself doing something she hadn’t done since she was a hoglet and watched her entire family burn because of a mad boy’s boredom. 

She reached out for help. 

His face seemed to turn more determined at that, lunging forward with another roar of flames from his hover boots. Hand trembling, her gloves barely brushed his before—

A bright purple light filled everything she could see and Rosy blinked to find herself back on the gunship, this time in the conference room. The near abandoned conference room. She watched Dr. Kintober duck behind a chair with a squeak. Normally she’d punish such overt wimpiness, but instead Rosy just stared at the hand still holding hers. 

“Here,” he offered, holding out her hammer, “Sorry I had to borrow your weapon, a jump like that required more chaos energy than I had.”

Rosy blinked as she accepted it. Giving her hammer back? The one she’d just used to crack several of his ribs. The question was on her lips before she even realized, “Why?” 

He seemed to realize her question was not quite about the hammer, judging by the light in his eyes. Rosy wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen that before, a gaze so…soft. Calm. As if it carried an infinite patience capable only of someone who truly—cared? 

An odd thrum set itself up in Rosy’s chest, like the beating of an organ that had long ago turned hard.  

“Because,” he said, “I made a promise a long time ago to give everyone a chance. And it looked like you needed one.”

Rosy opened her mouth to say something, not exactly sure what, only for the conference room door to slide open. More than several guns pointed out from the doorway. “Step away from Shadow the Hedgehog, Amy Rose! If you do not comply, we will be forced to shoot!”

The dark hedgehog in question scowled at this, turning towards the doorway. “I told you I had this handled! There’s no need for anyone to get hurt.”

“You got hurt,” Rosy pointed out. A strange feeling accompanied the words, an unfamiliar clench in her gut.

The hedgehog - Shadow? - didn’t even look away from the nozzles of the gun, still firmly planting himself between them and her as he answered, “I’m a living weapon. It doesn’t matter.”

Rosy furrowed her brow, something about his words hitting her weirdly. She didn’t…like them? She also didn’t like the guns, but somehow the fact that they were pointing at him was…bad? 

Well, only one way to fix that.

Huffing, Rosy shoved past him, moving to the front of the conference room. The guns followed her only to pause when she did, sitting herself into the chair originally marked for her. There was a short silence.

“Well? Don’t we got an alien invasion to stop?” Rosy called out, crossing her arms. She pouted at the clear sounds of disbelief from beyond the doorway, only stopped by Shadow clearing his throat. 

“Yes, there’s new intel we need to review. It’s rather time sensitive,” he said, folding his arms and managing to look like he'd hadn't just returned from an impromptu skydive. Rosy touched her own spines in a rush of insecurity, flattening the ones that stuck out the most. How did his already go back to normal? 

Rogue was the first to come out, tripping oddly over the first step. Rosy paused from her grooming to snort. Knuckles probably pushed her, the wuss. He got his comeuppance by being the next shoved through the doorway, courtesy of Miles. Who was still brandishing his gun. She raised a hand and wiggled her fingers at him. He sneered. Lovely kid.

Dr. Kintober slowly rose from under the desk, still shaking. He looked between her and Shadow quickly, something calculating in his gaze. Rosy shot him a sickly smile that sent him ducking back behind his chair to hide. Nice to see she still had it. 

As everyone began to filter in, with the obvious lack of Vanilla who likely knew better than to show her face so soon, Rosy slumped back in her seat and resolved to watch the proceedings. All were sending her strange looks she ignored, except for one. 

Shadow’s face was cast in an odd sheen from the sky outside and Rosy found herself holding her breath when his eyes passed over hers. The light made his eyes glow stronger, that same rare softness staring back at her. He gave her a small smile as the seconds stretched on and Rosy turned away sharply, blood pumping fast. 

Miles continued with his plan and Rosy ignored the odd suspicious glance at her, mind too busy picking apart the swarm of thoughts raging in her head. Red was always the color of destruction, of violence and rage and —

So why was the red of his eyes soothing?

#kuuzir0se #shadamy #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #shadow x amy rose #mine #have i mentioned I Love AUs #please put more in my inbox #msrosey fics

[finleyjayne]

Everyone is Sad Sometimes

Steve Rodgers x Reader

Summary: During a depressive episode the end of the tunnel can seem impossible to reach. Your therapist says that you are not alone in your feelings but you don’t believe them. They don’t live in a compound with superheroes. After a run in with a certain super soldier, You can’t help but wish to bask your sorrows in your secret stash of icecream, what will happen when someone else has the same Idea?

Warnings: Angst, Panic Attacks

A/N: Sorry not sorry, Thank you for the photo Google. Also I’m going to tag @captain-rogers-beard​ because I am new and I want at least one person to read this.(Thank you Mimi)

Depression hits everyone at one time or another. That's what your therapist keeps telling you. It's just hard to see how the literal superheroes around you are dealing with depression. Like sure Tony locks himself into his bubble of work, Natasha goes missing for a week every month, and Bucky... don't even start with Bucky. Even Thor could be seen putting himself into the line of fire more after his brother's death. So maybe Dr. Pronce isn't wholly wrong. 

At least that was what you were starting to believe. Until Steve walked into the small breakroom, you were currently using to meditate. Steve was a God among men, and he had yet to have an "off" day in your presence. Compared to your increasing lack of good days, Steve was perfect. Even now, he was whistling a jaunty tune, his steps bouncing as he set up his sketchpad in front of the windows. 

Sitting in the corner, obscured by a stately, wingback chair as you were, he didn't even notice you. Which was great for people watching. Even better for you to get a nonpartial read on how the imposing, and reserved man before you was really feeling. Keeping quiet, you watched as he smiled to himself. A relaxed, carefree thing., full of contentment. You fought the urge to sigh. 

How could he be so happy about what was going on outside? It was overcast, all the trees were dead, the snow was murky because of all the combat drills that had been done throughout the field since it had last snowed. Even the cardinals and squirrels that found their homes in the nearby trees were absent. Probably hunkering down for before the next storm was supposed to hit.  

Your frown deepened at the thought. The winter storms did nothing to help your increasing hopelessness; in fact, they seemed to do the opposite. Not only did they make the impending sense of doom that you usually could keep at bay absolutely unbearable, but the dramatic pressure changes also made your very human body ache from all of the past abuse you've lived through. 

Before you can realize how it would give you away, you start to rub at a particularly sore scar on the side of your forearm. Even after the Captain was staring surprised at you, you continued to stare at him.

"I hope you realize it's impolite to stare." He says casually, his eyes barely flickering to you before going back to the window.

You startle slightly at being noticed. "I've heard that before. I've also heard that it's impolite to do a great many other things, Captain. Most of which the population of America does every single day." You respond, continuing to stare.  

Steve chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he takes the armchair across from your hiding place. "Oh, really? What would this list consist of?"

"Crossing your arms." you deadpan, pulling your knees closer. 

"Touche," he states, leaning back into the chair, relaxing his arms. Going back to his leisure surveillance. His hands twirling a charcoal pencil between their lithe fingers. 

After what was probably too long a silence, words pop out of your mouth. "What are you looking at? There are better views out of the other windows. The snow isn't even clean." 

"Sometimes, the lack of beauty is where true beauty lies." He whispers, his voice convincingly soft. 

"Who are you quoting, my mother?"

"Not quoting anyone. Just trying to remember what a friend. If I was to quote them, I would've said, 'Ugliness is just a failure of seeing.'" His voice wavered a bit as he continued to stare out the window. Turning to you, he cleared his throat. "What are you doing behind the chair instead of in it?" 

You laugh sardonically, "Meditating. I'm a bit of a claustrophile."

He gives you a strange look. "Oh? Are you sure you aren't hiding from something."

"Steve, not that it's any of your business, but I am always hiding from something. It's daily life for me," you say. Not wanting to answer any more questions, you stand lithely make your way to the door. 

He looked startled at your abrupt movement. "You don't have to go. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Look, Steve, I know you are just trying to be helpful. I also know that you can't really stop being yourself, and I don't really want to either. But I really can't handle being in the same room with your positivity right now. You're too happy, and it's not making me feel any better about my lack of happy. So stay, enjoy your sketching, see you at training tomorrow." You turn around before you could see the hurt playing over his face.

Later that night, you still felt awful at your inability to be content with any of the blessings you have been given since becoming one of the Avengers. Even when in sleep, the unending hopelessness caused your sinuses to burn until you woke yourself up with your tears. Finally, giving up around two in the morning, you make your way to the secondary kitchen in search of your hidden stash of comfort icecream. 

To your surprise, the light in the kitchen is on when you round the corner. Trying to act like you aren't dying on the inside, you circle the island cupboards to see the weirdest sight of your life.

Captain America, sitting on the floor, eating a bowl of Kellog Flakes, talking seriously into the phone. "I don't know what to do. I ran into her today. She blatantly told me tha..." he looks up and freezes midword. You could faintly hear the other person on the line calling for him, but couldn't care less. Staring straight ahead as you got your icecream and a spoon as quickly as you could manage. Fighting off the new wave of tears.

Gods, what were you going to do? Your depression was going to lose you your spot on the team? Was it really that bad? You went to every training session, you made it a point to listen to all direction, and worked extra hard every mission to prevent this from happening. What would you do if you lost this too?

Your thoughts tore violently through your brain, leaving you unable to pay attention to your surroundings anymore. You were just outside of your door when a calloused hand caught your arm. The forlorn wail you were holding just behind your teeth severed the still night air, pulling the ripcord on the tears fighting to be free. Your distress shredded any sense of coordination you had as you collapsed into Steve's rock-hard chest.

"(Y/N), (Y/N), please, let me explain."

"NO," you sobbed. "Let go of me, If you wanted to get rid of me, all you had to do was ask. I'm a big girl, I can take a little tough love."

That seemed to shock Steve. "What?"

You yanked your arm harshly from Steve's stunned grip. "That's what you were talking to whoever that was about, wasn't it? You finally realized that I am not worth it. That I don't belong and weren't sure how to break the news to me since I'm so depressed. Well lucky you, you don't have to worry about it anymore. I'll have my stuff packed and be out by the end of the week." You turn away as tears waterfall down your face. 

Before you can get a decent grip on the doorknob, Steve's hand finds its place on top of yours. "No. I don't want you to leave." He states confidently. "It's quite the opposite actually. I like you. I was asking Clint how to handle my feelings since you clearly don't feel the same."

That stops you in your struggle for the doorknob. You look up at the imposing man beside you through bleary eyes. "What did you just say?"

"I like you, sweetheart. I was worried about you, and I didn't know what to do. So I called Clint. He seems to know the most about women."

You stood there, shocked for a second. "You like me."

"You make it really hard not to."

"What do you mean?"

"Sweetheart, you are a gorgeous, strong, independent, caring, hardworking woman. I'd be stupid not to have feelings for you."

"But I'm so grumpy, and when I'm not grumpy, I'm sad," you argue, scrunching your eyes together in confusion.

"Everyone gets sad. You are just less adept at hiding your feelings than some of us are. That's okay. I know you don't see it right now, but you haven't always been this way, and even if you stay this way, I know that you are worth every ounce of love and respect that I've given you."

You just stare at him. Trying to find any hint at the lie. He just stood there, staring right back into your eyes and, you couldn't help the tiny flutter of hope that settled deep in your tummy. A slight twitch, like the flick of a cat's tail as it basks in the sun. You missed her, and you knew that if Steve continues to look at you like that, you were going to be feeling more than just the flick of her tail.

"You quoting my therapist now too? Or is it just more of your friends?"

#captain america x reader #steve rodgers x reader #fanfic #angst with a happy ending #depression #me dealing with my depression #quarentine sucks #fins reads #fins' fic recs #fins' recs #fins recs fics #fanfiction #fic reblog

[stefciastark]

Metal Arm ~ Webpril Day 7

A/N: Here is Part 1 of what will be a 2 part mini-story. Doombots threaten Manhattan, but with a significantly reduced team and some bad luck, things don't go so smoothly for Peter. It only briefly touches on the 'metal arm' prompt, but this is also inspired by a request from Hannah on AO3 to write a bit of 'post-battle injured Peter hides his injury and won't admit anything is wrong.' I'm really excited to write Part 2 tomorrow, had a lot of fun writing this first part!

~Read on AO3

~Read on FFN

Peter had never really been strangled, yet today it had happened not twice, not thrice, but it was bordering on his fourth time being on the receiving end of a chokehold. The Doombot cutting off his air circulation ended up being at the wrong place at the wrong time however, as three out of its four limbs were obliterated and sent to mecha-heaven. All except the one heavily bicep-ed metal arm that clung to his throat like shit to a shovel.

“Get. OFF,” he gritted through his teeth, tearing the appendage off of his throat and tossing what was now just a torso, head and forelimb onto the growing pile of Doom scrap metal.

He had to take a breather for a moment and remind himself that these were robots and not real people. Despite how convinced their A.Is were that they were in fact the real Doctor Doom, their suicide missions were nothing more than a result of malevolent - albeit skilled - programming.

“You good, kid?” The Ironman suit hovered a few feet away from Peter, appearing to dance slightly in the air as Peter’s brain started playing ‘catchup’ with oxygen. He felt himself nodding in response, muting his comms momentarily so that what was present of the Avengers wouldn’t hear his breathing; he was pretty sure the exhaust pipe on the old Vauxhall Cavalier his uncle used to own sounded healthier.

The team was small today; Thor was offworld, Bruce didn’t feel like having another near miss after almost levelling another city during an incident the week prior near Seattle, and Clint was - as Tony put it - too busy ‘playing house’ in the country. That left Tony, Peter, and Natasha Romanoff on the mission. Peter was unsure whether to call her Nat, Romanoff, or use her Black Widow alias, and instead anxiously settled for using none of the above and simply avoided using any moniker to address her whatsoever. It had worked out for him well so far.

While it was by no means a three person job, they would have to make do, and so far, they were making...something happen. The showdown had initially begun in Hell’s Kitchen and was progressively and concerningly migrating towards the Lower East Side. The closer the action got to the east side of Manhattan, the closer it got to Brooklyn, and the closer it got to Brooklyn, the more there was a chance of the threat moving to Queens, and Peter wanted to keep the rough and tumble away from his neck of the woods if he could. So far they had left in their wake twelve office buildings turned to rubble, eleven burst sewer pipes, and at least ten separate fires that he was pretty sure were still burning. All they needed now were nine civilian casualties and they were almost halfway to rewriting ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’.

Tony didn’t have time to follow up with Peter’s uncharacteristic lack of a verbal response as two Doombots that had split from the herd attached themselves to the red and gold armour, their green capes combining with the suit to make a metallic caricature of a Christmas tree. Tony had a whole three seconds of warning before their self-destruct protocols were activated, and everything within a 300-foot radius erupted in a shower of rubble, flames, and smoke.

The suit - for the most part - diminished Tony’s impact with the building adjacent to the Tenement Museum. Peter didn’t quite have the luxury of inches-thick armour, and as he sailed diagonally across Delancey St through the glass window of Double Chicken Please, he made a personal vow to make them his new go-to fried chicken joint as a form of apology.

“Stark, was that you?” Nat (Peter decided that was the name he felt most comfortable with) queried over the comms, the distant sound of shots being fired and the purring motorcycle beneath her leaking into the background.

A stream of expletives from the man in question poured in through his suit’s speakers. Peter found it funny that if it were anyone but Tony in any other situation other than their current predicament, the frankly obscene amounts of swearing would be concerning.

“How many left on your end, Rushman?” There was a groan and the uncomfortably familiar sound of shifting rubble. “I think we’ve just about wrapped up here.”

Peter had been working on gently extricating himself from where he lay in a supine position behind the bar, struggling to hold onto consciousness through a haze of pain. The wall between Double Chicken Please and Subway had collapsed, half of it inconsiderately laying across his chest. He noted wryly that he didn’t expect himself to be battling unconsciousness behind a bar until he was at least twenty-one, yet here he was, five years too early.

A large bang went off from what sounded like only a block away, which was then followed by a moment of complete and utter stillness.

“I think our last guests just left the party,” offered as an explanation from Nat, finally breaking the silence.

“Don’t you hate it when you have company and they don’t even offer to help clean up? I am sickened by the youth of today.” Tony had managed to disentangle himself from what could now barely be called a building. The engineer was able to identify the date of manufacture on the most recent wave of Doombots - they were only three months old. “Speaking of, Spiderling, let’s get this cleaned up. I have a date with takeaway and my favourite sweatpants waiting for me at home.”

“Try not to wreck any more buildings while I’m gone, boys,” Nat said, immediately beginning her commute to the Avengers facility.

Natasha had become the face of the Avengers during the inevitable PR followups that seemed to accompany any and every brush with threat since the Chitauri attack on New York. She was level-headed and presented well, and so far had the least amount of tallies on the “PR Fuck-ups” chart that hung in the communal kitchen in place of a calendar. It was the team’s personal inside joke that S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t approve of, which of course made them double down their efforts if it meant ruffling Nick Fury’s feathers.

“Try not to wreck my public image, it’s what funds those luxury bath bombs you keep ordering,” Tony shot back, no venom in his teasing words.

Peter was otherwise occupied during his teammates’ little exchange. He had his arms arranged in an upside down tricep pushup position, palms pressing against the sizable concrete slab that occupied the space from his waist to his sternum. As he lifted the offending cement off of him, he very nearly dropped it back down as the air rushed out of his lungs. Something in his chest shifted sickeningly, followed by a stabbing pain that burned everything from his ribs to his airways. Failure never an option, he persevered, relieved when the hunk of wall finally slid gracelessly down the pile of debris.

He thought having a literal chunk of concrete off his chest would feel better.

“Pete?” His name was said with such a mixture of impatience, exhaustion, and concern that Peter found his nerves standing on red alert. This would be the first hour of many on cleanup duties

Taking a wavering breath, afraid to breathe too deeply, he steadied his voice and activated his comms. “Sure thing Mr Stark, on my way!”

Peter winced; he definitely overdid it on the enthusiasm. With every step he took his discomfort grew until the pain from his chest radiated down to his hips and he had to stop himself from hunching over and limping his way back to the Delancey St intersection. There were only two of them now, a whole lot of city to tidy up, and not a whole lot of time to spend fussing over what was probably just some deep tissue bruising. Plus, this was his first call to action since July, and it was now approaching the end of November.

Bracing himself for the amount of suckthe next few hours would entail, he gritted his teeth against the throbbing that rolled like waves from deep within his chest, and prepared to put on his best Oscar-worthy performance he’d titled: “I’m Fine - A Teenager’s Pledge”.

There was no way he was going to let Tony down.

A/N: There we have it! Things didn't go so smoothly for Peter, and I know he has superior healing and all but this poor boy needs some more safety built into his suit. Tomorrow will be the Part 2 fill for this mini-story, so check back in for the concluding part :) Thank you for all your continued support, kudos, and comments. Please feel free to send any fic requests into my Asks! Sending hugs to you all <3

#webpril day 7 #webpril 2021 #irondad fanfiction #marvel #mcu fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #peter parker whump #whump fic #h/c fanfiction #h/c #fanfiction #writing prompt #writing challenge #webpril

[brooklynislandgirl]

Volentine's Wishes

Keni,

I remembered what you said last year, about the small rodent-giving practices. It took some time to gather both information and the rodents, but I did it. Apparently, it is cruel to keep just one of them, which makes sense. This is probably why they are a symbol of love! It is very important that they stay together once in love.

So, I procured two of them. However, two has turned into seven in the time it took me to return with them. They should all be very friendly, at least, I’ve been petting them daily as I was advised. By the time the five babies were born, both parents stopped biting me during these pettings, so it must have worked. They are very friendly now!

I hope they will bring you much happiness and love, as you do me,

-A

~*~  ~*~  ~*~

It wasn’t until she’d reached her quarters that Melakeni Ivers allowed her composure to come apart. She leans back against the door almost the moment before it seals itself into place and takes a deep and shuddering breath, letting the ache flow through every fibre of her body. Her eyes squeeze shut and she rolls the back of her head against the solidness behind her. It is a grief that she’s held onto tightly, until now, where she can set it free. He had been so close. And she hadn’t so much of a glimpse of him before he was gone again.

She is used to having an Anakin-shaped hole living inside of her. She is used to traversing through her day offering comfort and healing to those who are sick and hurt without a second thought, be they Jedi or civilian. Consulting with other healers, the medical droids, the Masters who are terribly good at exhibiting external compassion when very little stirs them within. She is used to running her fingers through the soil of the medicinal herbs, feeling their life thrive in the vibrancy of their leaves, the aroma their oils leave behind that in some ways faintly remind her of a home she has not seen in too many years.  These kinds of days drift by with an ease that blurs and blends them into the back of her mind into a quiet sort of white-noise memory. Those days Anakin’s Presence is simply a close and often soothing companion, the thing that gives her softest smiles their brightness. That keeps the glow of her eyes alive and glimmering even when she is wilting from exhaustion.  There are days when she is accompanying her Master as either a tool or a prop or an extra set of senses, hands and so on. She has never been able to explain once she overcame her fear of the man why it is that he appeals to her so, beyond what is normal through the bonds Jedi and their apprentices. She cannot explain because she doesn’t know what it is, or why it still remains as strong as it does. When she is with him, there is very little time for introspection, and Anakin’s Presence is a buffer against the too much; too much pain, too much heat and awareness and agony. He is the softness that keeps her focused, keeps her thriving.

But ones like today? The ghost of him cannot fill the hole left behind. The abject yearning that claws its way through her until everything feels like it is in tatters and the only remedy is to find herself with arms wrapped around his waist. Breathing him in and assuring herself that he is alive and as whole as he can be, and that harm’s way has not found a way to sink its teeth into him. The want of his lips on her neck as she presses her face into his hair or his chest. There need be nothing wanton about any of it, just the language they speak of and to each other in their own way, that connection and completion they feel with no one else but each other.

When the quiet little sob of grief is finally swallowed down she opens her eyes and squares her shoulders. Straightens her robes and smooths her hair back into place. Reaching out with the Force, she trips the switch of the small lights of her chamber, and feels everything settle around her. Feels she is being... stared at.

The room is not so large that she cannot immediately find what is amiss, not so filled with all the possessions that they are not, by rite and tradition, allowed to have. The pillows have eked by as necessary bedding for frail limbs. The chest to keep her robes and secret things likewise, traded and bartered and smuggled for through illegal channels. The Council does not know that at least three of the grandest cities belong to her city and that she has made use of them in her private hours.

She cannot help but smile to herself. One of these days, she will bring Anakin. A moment later, green like forests, she shakes her head to diminish the daydream that springs up from that particular thought, and she makes her silent barefooted way to where the little enclosure is draped with one of her spare robes. It is the note that finds itself in her hand first. There is no residual warmth on the flimsi of his touch but she can imagine the sweeping strokes of his stylus. She runs a fingertip over the letters and feels the bright bloom of his excitement conveyed within them, as well as the near painful preciseness used to make every letter correct, the verbal equivalent of his wording and cadence. There is a pulse that rushes through her as her nastic responses quicken. She lifts the note to her lips after the seventh read-through. A dozen kisses saved for later.

Each time her giggles come a little louder until they fill the small room with joy. She can imagine what his hand will look like, the nicks and scars from having taken repeated torment to befriend their new little family. She will need to make a salve for it. For now though, she can feel herself humming within on an oscillating frequency normally reserved for more intense moments of Inevitable Doom. Her hands actually shake a little as she reaches out to pull aside her robe. And there within their containment, one peeking out of the doorway of what looks like some clay-moulded bark, is a tiny rodent. All twitchy nosed and sleek mottled fur and those restive dark eyes that had spied her even from across the darkened room. A few investigative sniffs proves her not to be Anakin and there is some hesitation as its little fight-or-flight instinct is engaged, though when she sets the lid aside and drapes her knuckles against the gravel, it eventually comes to see what she is. 

And this is inherently the danger of herbivores, because he does try to make a snack of one of her fingers. Right then. She rises and gathers bits of clover and mint and other greens from the neat little plants kept along shelves of her walls. Ones that she mists morning and night and whispers her truths to, the very ones that Anakin always seems to enjoy visiting, one of the things he likes about her chamber, that brings him a kind of only-slightly-guilty happiness. The little vole makes quick work of most of the meal, then drags away some for his mate, or so she presumes. She will have to research their care and feeding, though it seems that Anakin has, in fact, provided them a lovely little home to the best of his ability. She goes to sit at her desk and pulls out her datapad.

M-D-A The specimens that you have delivered to me are exactly perfect for the research project. They seem satisfied with their current conditions and of course I will keep them under the strictest observation. You have my absolute gratitude for being able to assist me, and you find me in your debt. I would be most glad to share the results of these observations with you upon your return to Galactic City, where I may properly thank you for going out of your way for me, my oldest friend.

I hope your latest mission sees you in good spirits and that the Force keeps you safe. I very much love hearing of your adventures off-world and the holo-net can hardly make up for the personal details your telling of them brings.

I am unaware of having to travel in the near future, so if you should have any need of me in the meantime, I of course will gladly look forward to your messages. Until then, know I wish you health and good cheer. May the Force be with you, always. With deepest respect and admiration, Melakeni

It seems cold and brittle and distant, like starlight on a moonless night. It feels like there is so much left unspoken because that is how it must be, in coded messages and aching spirit.  Anakin understands and she would never trade any of this save for another life where they might be free of constraints put upon them by the Order. Though she does wonder if that would make him happy or if what is now frustration would become something dull and listless, the bound-up denial of his natural compassion and desire to help those that need him most. It is a thing to consider, because as far as she is aware, they must be together as well, or suffer the same kind of separation sickness as the two little rodents tending each other and what she assumes are their five adorable children.

And what does she hope that he sees?

That they are loved already, mostly sight-unseen and bite-unfelt. That through their tiniest little glimmers of presence she feels even more connected to Anakin in his absence. That her message carries all of her love and hopes for him. That he has but to think of her and she will reach out to him across time and space and anything else that dare come between.

With or without the Time of Voles, with or without his physical proximity, there is no one that can occupy the shape of him inside of her.

#mynameisanakin #Images of Broken Light|Anakin Skywalker #Pools of Sorrow-Waves of Joy|Anikeni #Across the Universe|Star Wars AU #Warfront|The Clone Wars #Scintillating Light|Coruscant #//thank you Shady! Those are really cute and I can just. #//So sweet #rodent tw #mouse tw #Vole-n-time 2021 #submission

[rosa-berberifolia]

The Long Haul|LOTR x Reader|Eomer x Reader - Part 2

A/N: Part 2 of maybe...4? 5? 4? 5? Not sure. Again, the last time I reader the books was like a decade ago, so please dont be upset with me when things arent canon.

Warnings: blackish magicy type stuff kinda, violence, and everything that entails, mentions of death.

Word count: 2200 +\- 100

You met with Lord Elrond and other members of his council, and a Hobbit named Frodo presented the one ring. Among the group of people at the meeting there were two people that you knew and trusted. Aragorn, and Gandalf the Grey. When they volunteered to be a part of the group to help destroy the ring, you immediately jumped to join as well, wanting to protect your friends.

You became rather close with all members of the group. Especially Legolas and Gimli. They, along with Aragorn and yourself had become separated from the rest of the group after the deaths of Gandalf and Boromir. You mourned for your friends, but knew that Merry and Pippin needed saving. So you let Frodo and Sam go while you four went after the Urukhai that captured the other two hobbits. 

The next time you saw Eomer, you didn’t realize it was him until it was too late. You were too far off to get to him before he left. A group of men on horses traveled passed your group. Aragorn signaled for you to stay back and attack from afar should the situation call for it.

You were so far away, perched on a rock that when Eomer took off his helmet you didn’t have a good view of his face, and only recognized him by his voice towards the end of the conversation between him and Aragorn. You only recognized him went he went to get back on his horse and he and his men rode north.

The disappointment that flooded you was insurmountable. You secretly dreamed of seeing him again. Of feeling his lips on yours again. Even though you knew he was a lord and had no business being with someone like you. You still dreamed of such things.

///

Aragorn had returned from battle, bloodied and bruised, but also, with news of impending doom. You followed Gandalf to the stables. You knew he planned to ride north to try to find Eomer and his men. But even though he was a wizard, the chances of him finding Eomer and convincing him to come were small, given how Eomer had described a white wizard - no doubt Sauraman - Eomer probably wouldn’t believe a word out of Gandalf’s mouth. But perhaps if he saw you there, and you vouched for Gandalf? Maybe then Eomer would believe and they would reach Helm’s Deep in time. Gandalf agreed and in a moment you were behind him on Shadowfax.

///

“Eomer, we must ride south to Helm’s Deep to aid your Uncle.” Gandalf said.

“And why would I believe the cunning white wizard who sends men to attack the lands of Rohan?” Eomer asked aggressively. 

Then you leaped from the back of Gandalf’s horse. You immediately saw Eomer’s face change from defensive to surprised and then to hurt. The look confused you. What had you done...or not done since your last meeting.

“If you don’t believe him then believe me, Eomer.” You declared as you started closer to him. Eomer dismounted from his horse and took off his helmet. He started walking towards you with a foul glare in his eye. It stabbed you in the heart to see him look at you this way. Though perhaps it was better that he come to dislike you and leave you be than for the two of you to catch feelings for one another. You tried to push these thoughts aside. It was better in the long run and there were more pressing matters to attend to.

“Your Uncle is well again, Eomer. Grima has been expelled from Rohan. And ten thousand orcs march towards Helm’s Deep and your defenseless people. Don’t tell me you would leave them to this horrible fate?” Your voice grew quieter as you became closer to Eomer, so that only he could hear.

“I tried to find you.” Eomer said coldly as he reached you. Is that why he was so cruelly looking at you? 

“I-I’ve been away.” You said as if it wasn’t obvious.”I’ve been on an important mission.” You gazed apologetically at Eomer and he tried to judge whether or not you actually meant it. You weren’t sure what he had chosen. After a moment he turned around and started walking back towards his horse. Then he stopped and looked back at you and motioned for you to join him.

“Rohirrim!” He started to address his men. “We ride for Helm’s Deep, and to battle!” He said, putting on his helmet. You came to where he was and he got on his horse and held out his hand for you. You took it and he pulled you up to sit behind him.

///

“Why were you trying to find me?” You asked quietly during a break for the horses.

“Theodred. My cousin.” Eomer looked sadly at the ground. “He was wounded in a battle with orcs. I tried to find you so you might be able to heal him.” Then he looked up at you. His eyes were full of hurt and anger. “I could not find you.”

You sighed and gathered your thoughts before you replied. “I was called upon by Lord Elrond. The One Ring has been found.” 

Eomer’s face shot up in surprise. A look of almost hope dawned his features. “Where is it?” he asked.

“It is being taken to Mordor to be destroyed.”

“By who?”

You had to pause to laugh a little. The whole thing being explained to someone else sounded ridiculous. Two hobbits against the world? Yikes. “Their names are Frodo and Sam.” You said deciding to save the whole hobbits bit for a later time. Then you were interrupted by one of Eomer’s men.

“My Lord. We should continue.” The man said. Eomer turned his head and nodded to the man before turning back to you.

“And you were accompanying them?”  He asked getting up. You followed.

“Yes, but we were separated. I am with the three you found the other day. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.”

“Why did I not see you there?”

“I was farther back on perch in case something went wrong.”

Before you got onto the horse again Eomer stopped you, turning towards you. He sighed and looked down at you. He sweetly ran the back of his hand against your hair. “I had missed you.” He said quietly under his breathe. The smile that erupted onto your face was embarrassingly large. You looked down to try to conceal the blush that crept onto your cheeks. Biting your lip you look back at him.

“I have missed you too.” You confessed. It was Eomer’s turn to smile and blush. The two of you grew closer and closer together until your lips were mere centimeters apart.

“Eomer! Y/n!” Gandalf got your attention from the other side of your horse. “We must leave at once if we are to make it!”

You and Eomer giggled at Gandalf’s timing. You pulled away and got on the horse and rode towards Helm’s Deep.

///

You were just on the other side of Helm’s Deep. You could hear the clattering and clanking of swords and the grunting of men, elf, and orc who fought. You grew nervous.

“Y/n,” Eomer started to say to you as Gandalf gave a rousing speech to the men. “You should stay behind. Its not safe for a lady.”

“Then I guess its a good thing I’m not a lady.” You said with a hint of amusement in your tone. Then Gandalf came towards you. 

“Get ready Y/n. We will need your help if we are to win this.” He stated. You jumped off of the horse and walk a way in front of the men.

You knew exactly what you could do to help them. But it would mean using your black magic. And if you were to use that, it would much easier for your father to sense where you were. But you supposed you would have to use it sooner or later. And sooner or later your father was going to figure out where you are. It would be worth it if you could do anything to help stop Sauran and Sauraman.

“Funnel the horses through my sigil.” You said before turning to look at Eomer again. He did not know of your lineage, but he was sure to learn in a moment. You were certain that once he saw how dark you actually were he would no longer want you. And while it hurt thinking that you would never feel his touch again, you knew that you would have to sacrifice some of the things you wanted if we were to win this war. And in your head you knew that it could never be between you two either because he was a Lord and you were from scum. You put all of this behind you and you focused on casting the dark spells you needed to.

“Avo alnej, startok.”[1] You said as you held your arm up to the sky. In a tiny flash of lightning and a boom of thunder, a crow appeared and landed on your arm. Then you quickly grabbed it by the neck. In your other hand you unsheathed your dagger.

“May latob kibum maprog ulub.”[2] Another spell left your lips, and you drove your knife into the crow’s belly and you drug it down. You put the knife away and then used the crow’s blood to draw a sigil on the ground. You made it large so that a few horses could go through at a time. When you were finished you stood just outside of the sigil and held crow up to the sky and the sigil you had drawn started to glow.

“Baj it zahal.”[3] You declared with the crow held high. With your arms still in the air you looked at Eomer. He had a look of horror on his face. He watched you with offensive concern. It nearly killed you. At least you could do this for him. You looked to Gandalf and nodded.

“Everyone must go through this sigil. Both man and beast. Do it now!” He demanded and looked at Eomer. Eomer looked to his men and nodded, signaling that they should do as the wizard said. And so they did.

///

The battle had ended and not a Rohirrim was lost. Unfortunately the other people of Rohan had been massacred. At the end you immediately went to help the healers. After you were able to find all of the things you needed for a dark healing spell, and Gandalf and the King talked the people there into letting you cast a dark spell, you got to work readying a space for it.

“Would you ever have told me that you were a fell beast, or were you going to keep me under your spell?” Eomer’s angry voice resonated in the room you were preparing. You thought that something like this might happen. You were kind of hoping that maybe he would just shun you and not come yelling at you. No such luck. It took a second for you to process what had just happened.

“You never asked me what I am.” You replied bluntly. Why should he get to be made at you? It’s not like you lied to him. He never asked. “And I never put you under a spell.” You clarified with hostility.

He looked bewildered for a moment at your stony attitude before he set a glare at you, then shaking his head and leaving. Eomer closed the door loudly behind himself.

“It was all she ever knew. And she has been making up for her mistakes. Don’t be too hard on her.” Aragorn stated to Eomer as he made to go down the hallway. Eomer cocked his head in question. “She’s saved my life more times than I’d care to admit.” Aragorn added and then walked down the opposite direction from where Eomer was going.

///

Days later and the people of Rohan were leaving Helm’s Deep and making their way back to Edoras. You were walking beside a cart pulling people’s things. Eomer was walking as well having given his horse to help the elderly and sick. He caught your attention when he came up behind you.

“I owe you an apology.” His deep voice carried in the wind making you look back. You stopped and furrowed your eyebrows at him. “And I suppose if I had such a secret, I wouldn’t have shared it either.” You started walking again when he was beside you.

“I’m trying to be better.” You said smally. “I’m trying to make up for the things that I’ve done.”

“There is no need to explain.” Eomer said with an almost guilty face and his gaze glanced over to where Aragorn and Eowyn walked together. You sighed in a defeated manner and shook your head. Of course it was Aragorn who gave him details about you.

Shyly you looked back up to him, judging his sincerity.

“I am sorry for yelling at you.” He stated calmly. It made you smile a little. And then he smiled back at you, a small, sheepish smile. You were so enthralled with him that you hand’t notice him move his hand. So when you felt his skin on yours, and then the gentle squeeze of his fingers entwined with yours, it made you jump. And your jump made him chuckle. 

When you didn’t pull away his smile grew. He said nothing. He raised your hand in his to his lips and he placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. You blushed while he put your hands back down. Just because you could never end up with him doesn’t mean that for now you can’t hold his hand for a little bit, right?

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Tags:

@ladyideal​

@merrillbee92​

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Translations:

[1] To me, crow

[2] May your life protect theirs

[3] Make it so

#eomer x reader #eomer imagine #eomer reader insert #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings reader insert

[dailyaudiobible]

04/10/2021 DAB Transcript

Deuteronomy 34:1 - Joshua 2:24, Luke 13:22-14:6, Psalms 79:1-13, Proverbs 12:26

Today is the 10th day of April welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it's wonderful to be here today as we reach the conclusion of another week. And today is the 100th day of the year. And, so, as we cross this mile marker, 100 days in the Scriptures together, we will conclude our reading of the Torah, the first five books of the Old Testament and move into some new territory. So, special day here. And as I was saying yesterday, those of us using the Daily Audio Bible app and kinda checking off the days as we read them, when we check off today's reading we’ll see, we’ll receive our…our Pentateuch our Torah badge telling as we completed this particular section of the Scriptures. And even though the story will just be going forward it really is a shift. It's like everything has been leading us to this point, and then we turn the page into the next book of the Bible, the book of Joshua and take that next step. But let's conclude the book of Deuteronomy first and then we'll talk…talk about the book of Joshua and…and dive in. So, today will read Deuteronomy chapter 34, the final chapter of Deuteronomy, and then we’ll launch into the first two chapters of Joshua. So, we’re reading from the Christian Standard Bible this week, which is today. Deuteronomy chapter 34.

Introduction to the book of Joshua:

That concludes the Torah and that concludes the book of Deuteronomy. So, we’re about to take that step forward into the book of Joshua. But let’s take a deep breath for a second and just let it go because we’re transitioning, and we just said goodbye to Moses. So, Moses has died, and we have traveled at length with Moses and we've been in the wilderness with the children of Israel and Moses, we’ve been slaves in Egypt when God comes to rescue them with Moses. But let’s also just remember where we've come from to get to this point. We remember meeting Abram. We remember his name being changed to Abraham. We remember a promise, a promise of land that he would go to, that he would be shown. And he obeyed God and he walked that land, the land of Canaan. And he had a son of promise there, Isaac and then Jacob. And then Jacob had children and those 12 were known as the children of Israel, and they all became tribes. We remember the lengthy story of Joseph and the way his family, his brothers, human trafficked him as a slave into Egypt and how he rose to be second in command because of his interpretation of dreams. We remember how the children of Israel, right, Joseph's brothers, how they got to Egypt, was because of a great famine and then they flourished in the land of Egypt and stayed there for four centuries, 400 years, and they grew into a mighty people that were enslaved by…by the Egyptians. Moses, we remember meeting Moses. Baby boy put into the river in a basket because it was commanded that all newborn baby boy children be thrown into the river to die. So, he was put into the river, all right. He was put into a basket that floated and Pharaoh's daughter found him. And, so, Moses, sort of had a dual upbringing where he understood that he was a Hebrew and was very interested in the Hebrew people, but also was brought up like royalty in Egypt, a well-educated person who ends up killing another Egyptian in favor of a Hebrew and then he has to go on the run for his life. That's where he finds a burning bush that will not be extinguished and God calls him to go back, to go back to land…to the land that he came from and to tell Pharaoh to let his people go. We went through all of that, all the plagues of Egypt, the entire wilderness experience. Everything has been leading us toward this land, this promised land that would one day belong to the children of Israel. We remember the spies going into that land and coming back and saying, we can't take that land and dooming an entire generation to the wilderness. Well, we’re back at the Jordan again and this time, this time we’re gonna finally cross it. It's almost mythic at this point because we’ve been heading toward it for so long and now it's actually time to cross the Jordan River. And Moses, he can’t go in. So, he dies on Mount Nebo after pass…passing the mantle of leadership to Joshua. Joshua is the name of the book that we’re about to read. Joshua we will remember was one of the spies. He had been kind of Moses's assistant. He had been mentored up under Moses for a very long time. So, the people know, Joshua, and as the mantle of authority passes to him, they all obey him, especially after the three discourses that make up the book of Deuteronomy where Moses is very, very clearly reviewing everything that they did and passing the authority to Joshua. So, we’re gonna begin reading the book of Joshua and we will pick up basically right where we left off, but we have to remember now Moses has died and the people have to mourn for him for a month. Joshua is now the leader of the children of Israel, and he is commissioned with leading the people into the promised land and taking the promised land and settling the promised land. And, so, we begin the book of Joshua, chapter 1.

Prayer:

Father we thank You for Your word and we thank You for bringing us successfully through another week and successfully through 100 days of this year. We are so grateful, and we are so thankful to have reached this point. And, so, as we leave this section of the Scriptures, these first five books and then move into…actually preparation…and then into the promised land that we’ve been moving toward so long, we invite Your Holy Spirit, certainly to help us to absorb the stories, but also to allow Your word to become the mirror into our souls and motivations because it is transforming us. We thank You for Your word. It…it calls us out. It…it looks us in the face and tells us the truth and challenges us, challenges us that…that there is more and that…and that we can…we can go there and that we can do better. So, we’re grateful for that. And, so, we mark this 100 days, we mark this transition into a new section of the Scriptures with worship and with a heart of gratitude. Lead us forward we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com, that’s home base, it's…it's the website, it’s just the portal into this big hole platform that we’ve built over these years to draw us together and…and support the distribution of the Daily Audio Bible every day. And, so, check it out, be familiar. If you’re using the Daily Audio Bible app you can access all these things from there.

But the Community section, this is where the links are, where we are on social media, where to get connected. It's also the home of the Prayer Wall which is a place to get connected in prayer any time. Day or night it's always there, and people are always praying. And, so, check that out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, if this mission to bring the spoken word of God to whoever will listen to it, if that…well…that has reached you, but if it's life-giving and is making a difference than thank you for your partnership. We’re in this together and if we weren't we wouldn’t be in this at all. And, so, I am deeply, deeply, deeply grateful. There is a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper-right hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you've a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hey family this is James in Fort Worth. I just want to pray that the Lord guides my words and I hope what I say helps and touches someone to move in a positive direction. Toda is April 6th my daughter's birthday will be April 14th. She passed away January 27th 2020 and I just…I just praise the Lord I thank the Lord for the fact…so many things…but the fact for almost 12 almost 13 years, you know, I was blessed with her. She lived a life that I always wanted to live. She lived a great life. She was a cheerleader, she was an athlete but she had asthma and that's what eventually took her life. But I know for a fact that the Lord has her. Her death has brought me closer to the Lord, closer than I've ever been. I don't think I would’ve been on this app without her passing. Her brothers and sisters they miss her. My wife. Camile, I pray for her, she misses…I miss her. You don't have... as a parent you don't have favorite kids, but you know, she was my favorite person on this planet. Lord I just want to thank you. I want to thank you. I want to pray for the parents who have lost children.  __ Tony in Cleveland. I want to pray for you guys. I hope that you find the joy. I know it's a cliche when people tell you, O she's in a better place and they tell you she's in a better place. Trust me when I tell you they’re with the Lord. I’ve seen things that are supernatural that I would not have believed but I know my daughter Ryan is with the Lord. You couldn't tell me otherwise. I'm going to pray for the parents who lost children. I want to pray for the people around the world who've lost people during this COVID-19. But Lord I just want to thank you. I want to praise you. I want to continue to praise you. Thank you, father. In Jesus’ name.

Hey family it's Jesse from Washington it's like Tuesday something-th. And, so, Holy Spirit's been…been on me to…well I'm supposed to be talking to people, I'm supposed to be telling them and we all are actually, but I've been slacking because he's just been…he's been on me every day and I haven't been doing it and just making excuses. And there's a guy at work, he's been suicidal, and he attempted suicide like two or three months ago and his wife's divorcing him and you know left him and took the kids and he's just kind of in a rough spot and he's kind of one of those no nonsense guys and I've…I'm supposed…I've supposed to tell him for over a month now, I’m supposed to talk to him and I haven't done it. And finally, I talked to him today. And we're like closing up the shop and like three times I'm like no…no…no God I'll talk to him later. And finally, when we were both pulling out I just pulled up next to him and talked to him and man it was…shouldn’t have been that difficult but it was. But I did it and I just want to ask you all to…to lift up Colin, that he'll just accept God's outreached hand and embrace it and start to recognize it in his life because he's a good guy and it sucks to see him hurt.

Hi family this is Biola from Maryland I hope you're all doing well. Brian and Jill God bless you. God bless your family. China I'm rooting for you and I'm praying that you have a safe and easy delivery in Jesus’ name. Sister who called in about her 89-year-old mother. Sister I want to remind you that the Lord is faithful regarding his promises. Don't forget that your mother, you're not the one that's responsible for bringing her to Jesus. People have sown seeds into her life including you. Another person will water, and the Holy Spirit will bring the increase. And my prayer for your mother sister is that God will touch her heart, soften her heart, woo her to Him and that He will prolong her life. Bible says that the Lord is not willing for any top perish and is patient to all of us. And I pray that your mother's eyes will be opened the scales will fall from her eyes and she will come to love the Lord Jesus in the name of Jesus. I also pray that for your nephew and the members of your family who do not know the Lord. God bless you sister. Caitlin I'm praying for you. My heart just went out to you as I heard the divorce that your husband had asked for. Sister I just want to encourage you to just, you know, be at peace. I know it's not easy but be at peace and let the Lord work what is gonna work in your husband's heart. And I pray that, you know, what the Lord has started He will complete. So, and then teacher, James the teacher, I’m praying for you that God would comfort your heart and God will step into your situation and also touch your wife's heart. In the name of Jesus.

Good morning DAB family this is Sally Amazed by Grace in Massachusetts. I…I listen every day and I'm so thankful like many others for this community for this opportunity to hear God's word, to meditate on it and to be strengthened through Brian's commentary. Lord, I just thank you for this community, for Brian and the whole team that makes it possible for us to be together. And I am thankful for each one of you who call in and encourage and sing songs and share your burdens. We are so blessed to be here together, God's family. And this morning Katie called telling us that her husband of seven years wants a divorce. And this is such a hard hard thing Lord for Katie and for her children. And, so, I lift up Katie to You Lord and I pray Lord that You would just bring her comfort and her peace. Lord, You tell us in John 16:33 Jesus said I tell You these things so that in me You may have peace. In the world You have trouble but being of good cheer I’ve overcome the world. O God I pray for Katie as she cares and loves these dear children and she looks to You to be her protector, her refuge, strength. I pray for this Young man Lord. Open his eyes to his need of You, his wife's need, his children's needs. O great and holy and powerful God I pray Your mercy and power in this family and other women who are facing a similar situation and men. Lord just strengthen them in Your great love and grace to know that You are with them in Jesus’ name. Thank you.

Hey this is an encouragement for Brian. This is Micah in Awe. I just want…I just wanted to thank you again for the way that this is laid out, that you laid out DAB. Whenever I pick people up…I bring people to and from dialysis and I bring kids to and from school districts when they move out of a school district. So, in the morning I listen to DAB regardless, but I try to get the Old Testament listened to because there's some stuff in there that's just sometimes it's really hard to just jump right into without knowing the context. But anyway, so when the kids get in the car, I try to have the New Testament about to come on, right, and already playing. So, then they hear the New Testament the Psalm the Proverb and then your insight and then the prayer before they get dropped off. It always…like it always usually works out that way, that they get dropped off like right at the end of the prayer. It's so cool. So, they get to see how a Christian lives. We take in the scripture then we apply the scripture. Your insight shows how we apply it. And then we pray for each other and give encouragement. So, every day these kids are seeing what a Christian is, how Christians do. And I just think it's an awesome thing. And I can start it over and do it for each kid. And I do it for adults that I bring to dialysis to. So, thank you so much for this. And I want to ask all you DABbers out there to pray for these kids, they get in the car, that the seed will be planted and that the soil would be good. There's a scripture that says His word will not return to Him void. I just want to ask you to pray for an abundant increase in these kids understanding of who God is and what the Christian life is all about. You're touching generations, all of you. And Brian this is messing with the next generation. It's awesome. I love you guys.