#then tortured by the people she grew up with for something she had zero control over and had to watch and experience

[deerfour]

Assassin Born From Fire - Part One

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: Mention of behind held at gunpoint, torture, mention of death, trauma, blood, injuries, swearing

Summary: It's not easy to live a double life at a facility that wants to use you to get people killed when one part of you loves to, and the other one hates it.

Word Count: 6.4k

Series Masterlist: Here!

~~Part One~~

The only thing that made you terrified was yourself.

Not the way you were, or the way you looked, or the idea of you having the powers of a thousand suns, but the change. How you could go from being a terrified child to a killer without a warning.

It scared the shit out of you every time you woke up and the memories floated back to the surface to give you one more sleepless night. Every time a mission was being put your way, it often ended that way if it wasn't something simple. It was almost never something simple.

The thing that was even more terrifying was that there was absolute nothing you could do about it.

It was those changes that made you the ultimate weapon for others to use as their own, but at the same time it made you the weakest of all warriors. You could kill without thinking twice, or you could crumble to pieces. That was the reason why you never got out on a mission by yourself, why someone held you under constant guard at all times. There was not a point when someone wasn't watching every step you took, every decision you made or every breakdown you had.

You were never alone, but still felt lonely at all times.

Although that was the case not even torturing the scared part of you was enough to keep you doing the job. There was no part of you that could do such a thing. It didn't matter that they had handed you a gun, pointed at a man and ordered you to kill him. After hours of being beaten and left in the dark for not listening to orders you couldn't bring that side of you forward when you had control.

You couldn't do it.

You couldn't kill.

Your reality was a maze of emotions that you gladly avoided. Some days nothing made sense and you just wanted to escape everything, just for it to turn around on one foot and you changed completely. You wanted to prove a point that was hidden in the mist. There was a darkness inside that grew for every time you pulled yourself through a mission and succeeded. But, when the other side of you was triggered, everything fell back to zero.

The first times it had happened you had been curling into a ball, or singing silently to yourself in a corner. Those had been failed attempts to calm yourself down and take you back to the times of smiles and laughter to avoid the stern looks and the radiating pain. Other times you would stare into the wall in waiting for something to happen to get your mind thinking. That didn't happen way too often though. But as the years passed you got used to it. The guilt after every mission she had succeeded with because she never failed.

The scarred child had grown up to a woman that hadn't changed. You had learned, but never changed. You could never in your life kill someone, but you would follow all other orders. If it was going undercover and infiltrating a system, or if it was to interrogate a prisoner. You would do it. Torture someone for days, or weeks, to get them to follow orders that higher ranks had been given them. You would do it. Sit for hours and listen to the screams of children as they were being put into such trauma that most of them died. You could endure.

Everything but killing.

It was a weird thing. To, for a moment, feel like you were a good person that just did your job, that followed your orders. That was the way it had always been and there was no reason for it to change when you got older. But to suddenly turn into a killer that didn't think twice. That made your head spin and nausea hit you without a second thought. How could such a thing freak you out when you had fought agents of all kinds? How could a slight change in your own personality make you want to cry when you had endured so much the past years?

If they wanted someone dead, they needed the other half. The uncontrollable half. The half that could kill anyone at any point. The half that you were terrified of. The half that left you with pieces that you needed to pick up and put together as best you could on your own. The half that returned whenever she felt like it was her time to shine. The half that they loved, because she had no stopping her.

When she took over it was like everything was a game and nothing mattered but the killing and the chaos. To see things getting destroyed and blown up was like a party for that half. When people screamed because of pain she laughed and you remembered that feeling. To feel happy and delighted by someone's pain, and it hurts even more than watching three year old's being tested on. She loved to take over and show her face. But for you, it was terrifying.

They didn't care about you enough to help you endure the aftermath of being locked up with your own thoughts. The only thing they cared about was getting through with their plans that you only knew the third part of, and they were never clear what exactly was expected. To ask questions was properly handled with different methods, whether it was being starved or burnt from the inside or ripped apart by blades was always a surprise to not look forward to. Simple enough, they threw you into a cell after the killing was done, letting you sleep for a day or two before you were yourself again. When that was done you either spent weeks alone in the dark, trained with guards or were being handed missions that didn't require killing. That was until they needed her.

If they needed that other part they could trigger it in a matter of seconds, and they knew that there was a risk of them dying every time, but it was worth it. According to them. According to you? It was a nightmare.

A nightmare that never ended, and the only way to escape for just a little bit was to either let the destruction follow or follow orders. If none of those were possible you would ask for some time to train your skills under supervision. Sometimes you were lucky and got to train for as long as you wished, and other times you got nothing but spit in the face back. During the long winter nights in a stone cell, where your only roommates were blood puddles that weren't all yours and rats that sometimes crawled across your body during the night, you often found yourself in a thinking space that left you feeling empty.

Today was such a day.

You had been locked up for what seemed to be two days with only two cups of water and some bread to keep you occupied. Several times you had asked for the opportunity to go train, but had been neglected every time, no one cared to hear your plea. Even if you couldn't tell time, you were pretty sure it had been two days from what you heard of the change of guards outside. Every third hour they changed guards, that was something you had picked up during a meeting several years from now. With that information you were able to tell the time, at least some of the times. After hours of being drugged to sleep you had no idea how many days had passed by, and you could only make guesses. Same when you slept because you chose to. Guards always stood right outside. Keeping you looked over if a less pleasant part came into view.

The door screeched open, but you kept your eyes slightly closed when the light from the hall hit your face. You hugged your knees to keep the little warmth that you could gather as your head was leaned back against the wall behind you. Footsteps came closer, one person, carrying the usual weapons of a guard, which included both a gun and a taser for long distance and if an attacker got close enough. Even if you couldn't hear it you knew that the guard was holding a needle in one of his hands that he probably held behind his back. But you kept your eyes closed, knowing that it was just a guard. You had heard it enough times to pick up if something were to be different from the usual, and if it was you were always prepared. After years of training and discipline you could perform hand to hand combat with blind eyes.

It was easy to tell which ones were guards and who were directors. Mainly because directors always announced their presence to get everyone saluting them, but also because guards sounded more when they walked with their uniforms and weapons. Never have you heard an intruder who came long enough to get into the cells and escape alive. They simply couldn't. That was one thing you knew from trying to escape several times during your time spent in this prison of a home. Like the first time when you had--

A hand grabbed over your arm and you snapped your eyes open, meeting the guard's. His brown eyes were capturing, his jaw sharp and clenched from what it looked like and his blonde hair was slicked back over his head. You had never seen the guard before.

He had never met you either because he thought you were sleeping. As he jumped back in surprise you chuckled deep in your throat. You couldn't count how many times that had happened when new guards had been getting the mission to take you somewhere or deliver something to you. It always worked. That was the funny part. Two other guards from outside scrambled inside and picked you up from the floor, keeping you standing by grasping your arms. You knew both of them. One being the general for your department from what you had heard, and the other one of the usual with his sparkling blue eyes, making you think of water. That's why you called him Water-boy every time you got the chance, and the best part was how offended he looked when you mentioned your nickname for him. Their gloves left marks that would sit for a few hours after this, but it was nothing that hurt you anymore. You grinned from ear to ear.

Both of the guards had their weapons ready to be drawn, not knowing which part had woken up. The first guard stepped in front of you, staring down at you where you stood grinning like an idiot while biting your tongue, still thinking how you had scared him. How he had been ready for the other half to be the one he had approached, and the way he had almost dropped his face in the thought of meeting her without a weapon in hand. That was a show if anything. That actually might be the only thing you could like about that half, that everyone kept their distance and gave you space. That it was because of fear was more of an unpleasant detail, but it didn't matter to you anyways. You'd rather them to fear you than to underestimate you.

You let yourself memorize his face, just like you had done with everyone else. His nose that looked like it had been broken one too many times. Eyebrows plucked uneven, leaving the right one a little thicker than the other, just so slightly. The way his brown eyes turned serious the moment he stared down at you, trying to scare you with his stare.

This one was new. Interesting.

He looked at the two guards holding you and when they nodded for him to proceed he picked up a flashlight from his pocket. The new guard forcefully opened your right eye and put the light into your eye. It stung as usual, but it didn't hurt like it used to. Just as he stared into your eye you suddenly moved towards him and he jumped once more. He was tense in his entire body and it made you chuckle under your breath, the two guards beside you just holding tightly before motioning for the guard to continue. They didn't have all day standing here holding you in their arms when they had a whole facility to watch over. After he checked the other eye he nodded and both guards let go of you. Making you let out a sigh through your nose so they wouldn't hear it.

"You are very lucky today," the new guard spoke in a harsh tone.

"Is it my birthday or something?" you raised an eyebrow.

You actually didn't know when your birthday was, date or month or year was oblivious to you, but you knew that when the day came you got beaten. That was at least what they told you at the facility. 'It's your birthday today, you're very lucky', and then they kicked your ass without you being able to do anything about it. You had nothing else to believe, so you tried your best to count the days, see the temperature changes and maybe figure out at least a month. You had tried for nothing, because as the years passed you lost count on everything and all turned into a tornado that was too much of a battle to take care of for the moment.

One step at the time.

"Not that lucky," the guard from your left muttered, having been one of those who had delivered a yearly bruise over your eye.

"You're meeting with the head director. He has a mission for you," the first guard continued, ignoring the muttering from his coworker.

"Lucky me," you mumbled loud enough for the guards to hear the sarcasm covering your tone.

Water-boy glanced your way with a raised eyebrow, while the others just looked at you like you were insane. Even if it might be the case, you continued to stare down the newbie, making him feel as uneasy as you could by just being in your presence. The general was so used to seeing your gazes that he didn't even care about it, and instead sighed loudly at his time running away from him. New guard boy turned on the spot before one more of your comments entered the room, and he walked out into the dimly lit hallway. For a second you hesitated, but it was enough for the general to get impatient, so he grabbed your arm and launched you out into the corridor. If you only could fight back you would, but with your powers bound there was no use since the corridor outside was full with dozens of guards. You could never fight so many of them. Instead you followed the new guard and held your head high, not letting the fear invade your system.

The corridor's walls were covered with, not only guards that stared you down, but also doors made out of the thickest iron and steel in the world. Nothing could get through them. As you let your gaze travel over the doors you silently prayed to a god that had never heard you before that those inside of those doors would be freed from this prison some day. You knew perfectly well that there was someone behind each and everyone of those doors that divided the ranks at the facility. They were all different kinds of people, all from small children from this world to the next, and there were elders that had given up on their life but had no choice but to continue fighting. At first when you had arrived here you had thought you were all alone and the only one that knew of this pain, but when the night fell and you heard the cries of pain you knew you were incorrect. There were others. People who got treated just as bad, if not worse, than you. So, every time you get the chance you let your heart get dedicated to them; to somehow save them mentally. Their cries were nothing that bothered you anymore. You just slept through them, and tried your best to not think about how those screams would haunt you for the rest of your short life.

At the end of the corridor the guard locked it up with his green eyeball as a security code, and the door clicked open. You had seen this door unlocked a million times, but it still made your heart jump when you saw the halls beyond. They were a familiar place to you that wasn't special in any way, but the way the cold always seemed to linger there even during the winter gave you goosebumps. The corridors made out of stone and steel to keep you away from reality led through the facility to get to the administration offices. Just because they changed their appearance didn't mean that they gave you less creeps than before. Not only did the general and Water-boy walk at your sides but you were followed by nine guards that walked in unison. On your way there you tried your best not to think about what the mission could be, but you had your suspicions. At the end of the hall that turned left and right a few times that you didn't need to count, you reached three elevators that got you out from the dungeons. Following the new guard you got inside with five other guards that you had seen before at some point, one of them being a woman with an ugly scar that leaped from her forehead, through her eye and down to her chin. Making her blind in the right eye. Still, she fought with her other senses, which made her just as good as anyone else.

Your gut turned as you felt yourself going up, and even as it had happened so many times before you felt your knees buckle and if it hadn't been for the general and Water-boy you would've fallen to the floor. The walls in the elevator were made out of glass, which gave you the opportunity to look at the passing corridors. One being a familiar one. The way up you passed the medical bay where you could spot a man with an open wound screaming for help he didn't get. He had not been given any painkillers and you knew that he wouldn't be given anything any time soon. Either he would die by bleeding out, or he would die later by an infection. If he was strong he might survive a little longer, but from the way you could see his lungs from just a second of passing by made you realize that it would not happen. It was nothing you hadn't seen before, but it still aches in your chest, even if you keep staring without letting them know that the feelings are flattering around inside. They could never know your weakest point. That was a request for trouble, and them thinking that you were slowly turning into the warrior they desired.

A few floors upwards you came to the halls of the laboratories where you had spent hours strapped to a bed while they took blood from your veins. People in lab coats paused as they saw who was going up, and their eyes grew wide. Whatever that meant was their own business. You didn't care what they thought about you, or what the rumors said. That you were a killer was not a surprise, you just wished they could see the difference between a killer and a victim. So, when an old man that had been haunting your nights as a child saw you without giving away his fear you grinned. Nobody noticed the quick interaction between the two of you, but you knew that he was onboard with what you had just indicated. In a day or two he would ask for more tests being taken from you, but you didn't regret it.

As you, finally, got to the administration floor, which was way more sophisticated than the rest of the facility. It was weird how every part of the building looked so incredibly different, from the dungeon's gray stone walls to the plywood walls of the office where the only colors were wooden and black. It looked just as much as a prison as the one you were kept in. As the doors to the elevator opened the leading guard walked out, almost knocking straight into one of the workers that were currently holding a lot of papers in his arms. All of them fell to the floor, but as he was about to complain, you stepped out and he closed his mouth. Your mouth corners twitched as he began picking up his papers while his round glasses were sitting askew at the bridge of his nose, his black hair messy and the brown eyes keeping a target that was the floor. From what you could determine from his appearance he looked like he was in his forties, but of course you could not know for sure. If you were honest you knew that you were one of the best to identify people in the branch, and nobody could say anything else. There was a reason why you went undercover most of the ones the facility had in their grasp.

The guards didn't stop until you had taken thirty-five steps forward, made one left turn and then taken fourteen steps more. The newbie knocked on a big double door that opened just as he took a step back. You knew that inside stood two guards keeping the director under constant coverage to make sure that he was safe from enemies. From enemies that had become mine just as well as his. All of you stepped inside the grand office with bookshelves covering one of the walls, with at least a hundred copies, and the other wall had a fireplace with a pair of leather armchairs in front. The fire was lit and sparkled in your eyes as you let your gaze linger there for a moment, before facing the wooden desk in the middle of the room. A man, that you knew all too well, sat behind it reading through papers, not looking up as you approached. He eyed his papers, picking out a few to place on his left, while most of them were replaced in a drawer he had opened on his right. The head director didn't look up as you left the guards saluting to sit down in one of the black leather chairs before the desk.

"Leave us," he ordered, the guards thinking twice.

You were never left alone.

Not even for a moment, and definitely not with the head director in your grasp.

"Are you understanding English, general?" the man in a gray suit asked, still looking through his paper and writing a few things down in a notebook beside him.

"Ye- yes," the impatient guard that had been showing no signs of weakness just a moment ago, stammered.

"Then, what did I say?"

His voice was like a knife that cut through the air. A smirk crossed my lips as I gazed at the guard, which only made him gulp and open his mouth without any words leaving him. It was laughable. That little power that the director had of everyone, the power that was all that needed to be reminded about to make someone shake in fear. It was hilarious.

"You said 'leave us'," he reported, his gaze averting to yours once more and you saw the anger linger behind his dilated pupils.

"And who is following orders around here?"

"Me," he sighed. "But, she--"

"Will not hurt me. She knows better. I guess you checked her before bringing her up," he let his gaze rise to the guard, making him sweat.

"Yes, sir," he gulped before he signaled to the rest of the guards to leave you alone with the director.

You grinned at the newbie before he turned and walked after the rest of the guards that had already left the office. The ones that had been keeping the director under guard also left, making the office suddenly turn incredibly silent as the door closed behind them. You wanted to laugh at the way the general had been nervously picking around his collar as if he couldn't breath, but instead you turned around to face the director. The man with brown hair, that slowly turned gray as his suit from aging, stood up and began to walk around his desk. His eyes were locked with yours, but you just stared him down without a flinch even though you wanted to curl up in a corner.

"You are getting a new mission today. The most important one in your career."

Career, you wanted to mutter, but instead you kept your silence and leaned yourself backwards, putting your hands behind your head to keep him talking. Either this would end in a reasonable mission that could give you something in return, or it would be a one-time thing that wouldn't give you shit. One of your eyebrows got raised as he chuckled and sat down at the front of his desk before you. He knew that you wouldn't go along with any missions willingly if there was a killing part. Still, if that was the case he would just bring her out and she would burn the whole world, not caring about anything else than the flames. His eyes were a little narrowed from the chuckle, his arms crossed over his chest, and the wrinkles across his face slowly smoothed.

"We need you to go undercover for us, get us intel and then report back here. At the end of the deal, you'll kill the target."

"I won't kill."

You answered quicker than he thought you would, taking him aback, but only for a second before a smirk covered his thin lips. It was three simple words that didn't like being heard by anyone, but you said them nonetheless. You didn't care about what he thought about that one weakness. The weakness that forced him to bring out the messier part of you if he wanted something done. When you began telling him that you wouldn't kill for him he had been beating you personally, but as the years passed he let others do it. Every time there was a beating when you refused. He just waited for you to break enough for him to not have to make you do as you were told through violence. It took his time.

"I know that, believe me," he chuckled and looked you straight in the eyes, burning into your orbs. "But this is different. This mission is special for you and your work here."

"Continue," you spoke as he paused.

"Is it interest I'm hearing?"

"Impatience," you corrected him without moving a muscle.

"Very well then. You will not be having any guards watching over you this time."

"What?"

It didn't mean to sound like you were surprised, but you couldn't hide it in your voice. You cursed yourself mentally afterwards when you saw the cold smile that crept over his wrinkly face. Long ago you had learned that surprise was enough for your enemy to know weakness. The easiest way to bring someone down was to use surprise against them, and even if you knew this better than anyone, this made you still let your chin drop. He clicked his tongue to make this more dramatic than what it actually was. A minute ticked down that felt like an hour. Was he seriously letting you out on a mission on your own? Without any guards watching you from a distance to make sure that you didn't try to flee. This was something new. And that meant that there was a catch. There was always a catch when it came to the director.

"It's too risky. We can't have you being discovered, and people sneaking too close to the Avengers Compound will raise suspicion."

"Avengers Compound?"

You had heard about the Avengers on several occasions during your time in imprisonment. They were the thing that stood between the facility and getting full power, but taking them out had been shown to be harder than they had first thought. It seemed like a new idea had arised, and you didn't like the sound of that for some reason. Other than them being complete assholes to the organization, you knew that one of their heroes had been the Winter Soldier. One of the strongest warriors from the facility. Made into the ultimate weapon with mind control and a code to make him do anything. It had been an experiment that had been prepared to be done to others. You included. Sadly it never did.

"You will go undercover as an intern there, and find everything we want to know about their plans, and how much they know of us. You will be there for as long as needed, and we have found a place for you to live during your time there since coming back here every day might be a bit of a journey."

It sounded reasonable, but you didn't trust this yet. Something was not adding up to you. If you were just getting inside as an intern to find information, then why would you need to kill? There was no reason if the only thing he looked for was facts, because that was something you could gather easily.

"So, what do you say?" he asked as you stared at him, drowning in your thoughts.

You looked him in the eyes, knowing there was something he didn't say. Something he was hiding to make this mission easier, and hiding things that you might want to know was never a good idea. You would find the clues to his secrets and find out what he was keeping away from you to keep his ship sailing. Secrets were nothing you had ever appreciated. But at the same time this mission was the first one you would go out on your own. Something you had dreamed to be able to do since the first one you ever went to. After failure and successes you had never gotten this big of an opportunity, and that was something new, something that you wished for. To wish for things here was not a wise choice in life. But you had nothing to lose except for your life, and that was not much to keep protected in the first place. The freedom of being alone in the real world was calling your name, and it made the decision even harder to make.

"How will I report back here if I won't be seeing you any time soon?"

"Simple," the man spoke and got back to his side of the desk.

Phones would've been the easy answer, but they were traceable. The facility never worked with things that were traceable. Too risky. You leaned forwards with your elbows on your knees as you glanced his way. He opened a drawer and pulled out a small little metallic device that was round with an octopus on the top. You felt a chill run down your spine, but he still handed the device your way. Without thinking twice you took it from him. The metal felt cold in your warm hands as you looked at it while the man explained.

"You just simply push the button at the right side and you will call my office," as he said this you pushed the bottom and a similar looking device beeped at his desk. He placed his finger across the octopus and a hologram appeared over it showing your face and half your upper body, currently looking at something. It scared you seeing that face, making you gasp and throw the device across the desk. You could imagine him smiling, not reaching his eyes, but your gaze was trapped at the hologram.

The device landed before the man and he appeared on the other device as well, the one you were staring down. You gasped slightly at how detailed it was, showing all in such a close up that it was impossible to miss out on something. When you gazed back at the one you had been holding it now also showed a hologram, you. It showed both ways. You stood up from the chair and walked around the one that had been on his desk in the first place, but it still showed you. It was showing in all directions. Showing everything with a pulse and warmth to it.

"Something wrong?" he asked, and you felt a sting at the back of your neck.

"No, everything's fine. Who am I assigned to kill?"

He seemed surprised by the question, showing by his body stiffening a little bit, short enough for someone with an untrained eye to look through, but for you. It was clear that he thought you would actually do it. He should know better than that at this point in your deal. The thought of your freedom didn't make you spin that far away. You didn't kill, but followed all other orders without questions. That was the deal for you to keep this little part of yourself standing.

"Tony Stark."

"Iron Man?"

Even here you knew who the famous Tony Stark was. The richest man in all of the United States, might even be the whole world. You had just heard him during a few meetings during brief conversation, and at some point you had gotten your hands on a file about him that you just read the first page off.

"Yes, Iron Man. The one owning the Avengers Facility, or compound, or whatever they wanna call that stone block. I need him gone for my project to be complete. It's your mission to get him out of my way so I can continue without having to worry about him disturbing me."

He sounded bitter. Not focused on what you would say at the moment, giving you the perfect opportunity to slink in a simple question that you hoped wouldn't raise any suspicion.

"And what's your project?"

Somewhere you knew that you wouldn't get an answer to that question, but you still wanted him to tell you more. Maybe you could get him to crack what he was hiding, if only for a moment so that you could read his feelings. This game was being played well from his side, but you needed to win. For once, you needed to win to know if it was worth it.

If the freedom was worth it.

This might be the mission of your lifetime, just as he had spoken. You hated that truth, and you hoped for all your life that it was a lie, even if you knew that it wasn't. This would determine your whole future here. If it went well you would be treated with respect, and might even rise in the ranks for the first time in several years. There was also a possibility that you would fail the director, which would leave him with no choice but to put you down once again.

Just as he had done a million times before.

"Stupid question," he simply spoke before a burning pain ran through your body, before you got a moment to read anything from his body language.

From the randomness of the lightning that spread across your body you fell down to your knees, letting out a yelp in pain. You didn't mean for the sudden scream to erupt from within, but being unprepared for your blood being boiled from within, hurt more than you could remember. If you had been prepared you would've been able to hold in the screams for at least a minute before the tingling would've gotten to you. There was no way you could ignore the pain that pierced your skin when it came out of nowhere. It streamed up and down your body, thousands of nails biting at your skin, trying to poke a hole into it. Your hands turned into fists that you lost the feeling of first. The numbness traveling up your arms. Your screams echoed through the administration offices, but no one cared. The ones that bothered to stop for a moment didn't try to find you. There was never someone looking.

"Are you ready for the mission, assassin?"

The question was hard to hear when the only thing in your ears was beeps and crackling, and the burning of your own skin crawling across you, eating at your brain. Still, you could hear the words as if they were being told straight into your head. There was no way for you to handle the question and get up with an answer as your body twitched and you fell to the floor. Suddenly it stopped and you breathed for air, trying to collect yourself, and getting ready for one more zap. It didn't come. You were just laying there, defeated on the floor, and you tried to think through his question, but it had disappeared. If you didn't get up and said something he wanted to hear it would come back. Your skin burning in a way that you could never manage to do on your own.

So, instead of standing your ground to prove something that wasn't worth the time, you got up. You rose from the ground, slowly but surely as your body was harder to control. Being numb in your fingers, toes and calves made it impossible to get up completely on your feet. Instead, you looked up at him from beneath your hair that had been falling in your eyes. He had a smirk on his face, knowing that you would agree to this. You would follow through, even if you didn't kill him. You would find the information they needed and then they would let her escape. With heavy breaths you let your eyes gaze over to the hologram that showed a clear picture of the director that smirked your way. Knowing that he had defeated you once again, and that there was nothing you were going to do against it. Knowing this, you locked eyes with him through the hologram and let one word escape your lips.

"Always."

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[glassesmcfancyhair]

Vala sitting there all attentive with the stack of books she undoubtedly helped Daniel with, and Daniel turning to her to get his next reference and she’s got it all ready to go is just so goddamn cute.

#stargate sg1 #it’s a stargate rewatch y’all #vala mal doran #daniel jackson #I loved vala and daniel as a couple #she’s so pleased to be helpful #one day I am going to write an analysis of vala and trauma and how many trauma survivors lie as a matter of survival #she was a fun but very complex character and I think CB did a fantastic job with her #I also loved how much of a departure vala was from aeryn sun #don’t get me wrong I love aeryn #she is desperate to fit in at the sgc #it breaks my heart a little that vala tries so hard and gets so nervous about this psych eval #because this is a woman who has nothing #she’s been taken as a host against her will #then tortured by the people she grew up with for something she had zero control over and had to watch and experience #while not being able to do ANYTHING to stop it #THEN once she’s free she can’t go back home #so she drifts for a while trying to make her own way #and when she finally runs across a group of people that might give her the opportunity to heal #she’s ripped away to another galaxy and forcibly impregnated with a magic kid #and now #now all she wants is some safety and she’s being told about all these additional hurdles to that chance #no wonder she’s terrified

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Lotor seems to have a lot in common with Chloe Bourgeois from Miraculous Ladybug since they both seem to have great potential of getting redeemed, but the writers decided to screw them over and make them all the sudden villan for no reason even though both shows main protagonists have done far more questionable things than them, heck both shows even romantasize the protagonists creepy stalking behavior

Hi, anon. Thanks for the note! I’ve never watched Miraculous Ladybug, so I’m afraid I don’t know too much about a Lotor vs. Chloe comparison? I’m sorry, though, if that show triggered some unhappy memories about VLD!

In terms of protagonists being worse than the villains, I personally struggle with that statement for Voltron? VLD is complicated because the show starts by treating war/battle as a fantasy violence video game. Like, the Galrans are mostly robots or one-dimensional soldiers who are torturing, killing and conquering. So our protagonists are already light-years ahead of that incredibly low baseline. And it’s easy to cheer Team Voltron on when you know they’re just blowing up robots or a pure-evil villain. It’s that whole fantasy violence thing without accountability. Then, the show gets increasingly more complex in terms of the politics, and the costs of war (with Ulaz’s death, for example), and the humanization of the enemy. But in this environment, our protagonists are still a bunch of ill-prepared teenagers running with scissors. Like, the original paladins of Voltron were leaders and rulers with a history of navigating wars and alliances. These paladins? They grew some over the show, yes, but they still had to go from playing a video game and screwing up flight simulators (or living a royal life in peace-time), to handling actual death and collateral damage in an active combat theater. I doubt Galaxy Garrison had training in their curriculum for how 17-year-olds should handle that. And all of the other older authority figures around Team Voltron and Lotor just totally and utterly failed them.

So I think my frustration with Team Voltron has cooled a lot over the years. From an in-show perspective, they were surrounded by supposedly competent advisors and intelligence officers who should have been able to at least question certain decisions or behaviors. But they did nothing constructive to prepare the paladins for war besides training them to kill.

And in the case of s5-s6, all of these experts and allied civilizations gave Team Voltron the green light on an official alliance with an empire they had seen brutally torture/experiment, enslave, and colonize. Actual weeks had passed between s5-s6. And yet, we never saw Kolivan warning the team that this was a really bad compromise for the Voltron Coalition to make; we never saw the paladins having to handle upset questions from their vast allies, who no doubt had recent memories of trauma at the hands of Galran military officers. But the instant Lotor is revealed to have also been a quintessence vampire in some way, like every other Galran officer with a body count they’d allied with, that’s the uncrossable line for Krolia, Coran, Kolivan watching this all go down—? Like?

When Shiro linked the Voltron Coalition to Galran military intelligence, what the heck did they think all of these soldier reports included? Military commanders happily sipping cocktails with locals on a beach? So I don’t think it quite hit the paladins yet that they weren’t working with uwu morally unproblematic people with easily forgivable pasts or a clear record of trying to make up for that past. And Team Voltron had zero guidance for how to navigate pursuing justice/reparations while also not leading to another war or worse outcome. Ultimately, even all of these concerned authority figures forgot about the show’s most plot-important victims that they were fine with dissolving the alliance over.

(RIP Patrulius in the harvesting pod, did you ever get out??).

The incompetency of elder authority figures also feeds into my frustration about Lance’s character, and how it was once again Coran in s8 who pushed him into this weird 1950s dating construct where Allura isn’t an agent over her own body. Like, Lance is still pretty young here, mimicking all the toxic masculinity he’s picked up on, and Coran’s behavior is supposed to be…better. Like, even Lance himself was uncomfortable in that scene, and that was wild to watch.)

And speaking of the ongoing failures of authority in the story, I still can’t believe that Coran didn’t cut in on Lotor in season 5, even, to warn him that exposure to the rift was known to make people lose control over their darkest thoughts. I could plausibly believe Allura didn’t think to question this because she was doe-eyed over Lotor and desperate for anything that could secure peace. But it’s not like Coran, who is supposed to be a king’s advisor, didn’t see this happen with Zarkon and Honerva. He could have questioned Lotor’s plans, and that actually would have been fascinating. Because if Coran, being a king’s advisor, had employed that kind of logical foresight, we might have seen something unsettling in Lotor that could more clearly foreshadow a fatal flaw he wasn’t working on (you know, like that classic Icarus Syndrome). But this show just didn’t question itself or self-reflect, lol.

So I don’t think anything Team Voltron did was them necessarily intending to be cruel where they wanted trillions to die in the name of justice, but their ignorance and the blatant inaction/silence or questionable guidance from anyone with higher credentials or experience resulted in some very uneasy outcomes.

But those outcomes were what this show wanted to keep the drama rolling.

I can’t speak for Chloe’s arc and the reason for why she misses the mark, but Lotor’s fall resulted in another several episodes of big robot battles and extended drama to meet a predetermined 78-episode directive. And given that the production team complained about having no breaks at all through the development of this show, I doubt they had time to weigh the cost of every decision they made to keep drama going. (I mean, we saw several other haphazard, concerning things happen since the beginning of the show; the colony twist wasn’t an isolated incident of plot over-complication and questionable handling of topics a;sdjfasf.)

I do think it’s easy to stay bitter about things and to let that poison everything, including even other shows. And I don’t think that’s a mentally healthy place for me to be—even though, clearly, I do still have frustrations with the art of story construction, lol. So I guess... canon is someone else’s story, but I do have control over how I respond and how I might try to tackle hard topics in my own works. And I’ve got to work with that.

I hope for what it’s worth that you can still find things worth enjoying in your other show, and that you can explore the characters and the stories in ways that are meaningful and feel right to you. It might help as well to look for shows and media that explicitly do have redemption arcs for a main antagonist or villain, or that handle traumatized or abused characters well.

#voltron #vld #lotor #oh god I relapsed and had a vld salt moment #tw salt #but yeah I do think at least VLD had a purpose for making Lotor go crazy but it was a tactical plot-driven reason #as opposed to a character-driven reason #because yeah a lot of characters got really OOC in that a;lsdjfasd

[malachi-walker]

Catra and the Performative Nature of Villainy and Abuse Survival

(Yeah, with a title like that you can tell I earned that English lit masters. -.-)

Ok, so I have a lot of She-ra meta bouncing around my skull I need to get to one day, but let’s start with the big one post s4: the psychological and symbolic implications that are made explicit in DT’s epic call out of Catra (please note that I specified “made explicit” not revealed, because a lot of the stuff I wanna talk about was already there if you knew where to look.)

1. Catra’s villainy is inherently performative.

Yeah, pretty obvious but I’m going somewhere with this. If you pay close attention to Catra throughout the series, her words (the stuff on the surface) and her underlying actions don’t match up. Not entirely. No tsundere jokes, please, because it ultimately leads back to a very common pattern among abuse victims and some very interesting implications for Catra herself.

Basically it’s not horribly uncommon for abuse victims, especially those in domestic or child abuse situations, to end up performing on multiple levels. Level one: performing for the abuser in the hopes that this will minimize or stop the abuse. (Check.) Level two: performing for loved ones so as not to either worry them or risk them leaving if the abuse becomes obvious.

Oh, double check.

And lastly, Level Three: the act of performing as a method of keeping people on the outside away from you, either out of fear of more pain or fear of further judgment, which is a huge bulk of what we see Catra spiralling through this entire series.

Like, I myself was a child abuse victim for the first twelve years of my life (I’m fine now after about a decade of therapy) and I operated on all these different levels; alternating between placating my abuser to avoid punishment or rebelling to take back some form of control, deflecting from my other loved ones so as not to worry them, and being absolutely resistant to outside forces coming in, because at that point I had so little control over my life that I was more comfortable with embracing the hell I knew as a way to give myself some measure of control and stability than have someone save me from that situation but take that control away from me. Fucked up, but true. Which brings me into my second point:

2. Words have no inherent value for Catra except as weapons.

Which again, makes perfect sense considering her upbringing. Unlike Adora, Catra never had the luxury of buying into the Horde propaganda. She knew they hurt innocent people because she’d already been enduring torture from the time she was a small child–as other people have pointed out before. Moreover, she grew up in an environment that treated words with varying levels of consistency, where Shadow Weaver can praise Adora for doing one thing and then mercilessly put down Catra for doing the exact same thing equally.

This not only teaches someone about lying, this teaches someone that words are weapons, and Catra took that lesson and ran with it. Even when she and Adora were on good terms, she would still lightly drag her or put her down, but I don’t think it was from any inherent malice at that point. Good example: in episode one she’s perfectly content to mock Adora while she’s stuck in the pit, but immediately after she reached down and helped pull her out. “Actions speak louder than words” is an old clichè, but it’s super important to keep in mind when analyzing Catra’s character. Out of all the characters on Spop, she is the last one who can be analyzed from surface words alone, because so much of it is an act.

In fact, I can think of probably only one instance in which Catra did actually wholeheartedly believe in words…

Yeah, y'all know what I’m talking about.

And again, that makes perfect sense. Because Adora wasn’t just Catra’s best friend, she was explicitly her lifeline. Shadow Weaver’s exact words to little Catra were: “I’ve kept you around this long because Adora was fond of you. But if you ever do anything to jeopardize her future, I will dispose of you myself.” On top of that, the other cadets show clear signs of having sensed the blood in the water, so to speak: it’s an open secret to everyone but Adora that Shadow Weaver hates Catra’s guts, and therefore it stands to reason that in a cutthroat culture like the Horde’s, Catra was probably seen as easy prey until she learned to defend herself. Because it wasn’t like Shadow Weaver would do anything about it.

So Adora was the only person Catra could count on, but that also leads into the double edged aspect of words I’ve been talking about: Catra could let herself believe in their promise, but not enough to actually reveal to her what was going on. In the same way Shadow Weaver lightens up on the abuse when Adora’s around (just compare her use of lightning on Catra in Promise vs the Sword pt 2–the former is very subdued and looks almost like a simple hold, while the latter makes it very obvious this is painful torture) Catra deflects away from the subject around Adora, and the few times she does approach it “Why does she hate me so much” she tends not to get the reassurance she wants because Adora isn’t as clued in on the situation.

I mean, it’s pretty telling that Catra’s first leap off the slippery slope after being more of a nuisance than anything else up to that point came after Light Hope deliberately pushed her buttons by basically taunting her with the one thing that Catra had ever allowed herself to believe in.

I mean, her younger self looks at her as if to drive in the point of “you were a fool to believe in it!” After what we found out in S4, you cannot make me believe that wasn’t Light Hope deliberately twisting the knife to make sure they didn’t reconcile. And immediately after Catra pitches Adora off a cliff. Good times.

Ok, that was a big fucking lead in to my main point, but here we are:

3. Pretty much everything Catra says from that point onward is an act.

And it’s an obvious one, all things considered. Because that’s when Catra gets vicious. That’s when all her verbal barbs start cutting deep. That’s when combat between her and Adora goes from almost playful to outright brutal. And that’s when we start seeing Catra using her words as weapons against herself in addition to everyone else.

Because that’s the point when Catra starts feeding into her constructed persona of being this smug, confident, in-control villain who most definitely isn’t capable of being hurt like that ever again, no siree. We get to see several times across s4 in particular where her feelings clearly aren’t in line with her actions, and what does she do? She forces herself to say something cruel or hard-hearted as a way to essentially drag her actions and internal feelings back into line with that constructed person. Good example is the locker room scene with the Horde Trio: Catra very clearly wants to reach out to them and experience a little of their camaraderie, but she forces herself back into “I’m the boss” mode. And when it’s misinterpreted as her simply being a bitch, she goes into a rage because it’s one thing for her to want to reach out and deny herself that, but another for someone else to try to force their way in.

And all of this ties back into my main point, and why I think DT’s speech is particularly brilliant from a symbolic and psychological standpoint.

Actor vs Actor: Fight!

I’ve already established that Catra is somebody who is a performer and has been all her life in order to survive. That’s part of why Catra is such a tough nut to crack in terms of getting through to her: it’s hard to make accurate hits on someone who is putting on a persona. It’s damn near impossible to get a point through when you don’t have a clear idea of what you should be aiming at in the first place. So how do you beat a consummate actor?

You bring in a better performer.

Now, I do have my problems with DT’s speech: as others have pointed out, tossing Shadow Weaver and Hordak into the guilt trip is severely messed up and victim-blamey, though I do believe that has more to do with the fact that DT themself is not omniscient and therefore doesn’t have all the facts there (though given their sadistic streak, I’m also not sure they wouldn’t still cross that line even if they did know.)

But here’s what made that scene rock me to my fucking core: Catra almost pulled it off. Think about it: she has spent three seasons up until that point convincing her former friends, allies, boss and even the viewers–remember the post Portal moral panic–that she was this completely villainous monster. That she didn’t care, that she wasn’t worth saving, that everything she does is ultimately self-serving and terrible… Only for DT to see right through the disguise.

Adora couldn’t get through to Catra when she couldn’t even pinpoint the real problem. Scorpia couldn’t get through because by that point the defenses were fully up and Catra was going all in on her mask of villainy.

What finally got through? Being outclassed by a much better actor. By someone who is both a world class actor but also in touch enough with their own personality and wants that they don’t interfere with their own performance.

Because that’s the difference between DT and Catra: for Catra, acting the villain has been a matter of psychological survival up until that point. DT, meanwhile, acts for fun, work, and a certain level of sadistic pleasure. They have no moral dilemmas about what they do and thus they experience zero cognitive dissonance, whereas Catra may as well be the poster child. And it’s not too much of a stretch to think that once they figured out Catra’s deal, they probably found it quite amusing to completely demolish the act that had practically everyone else on the planet completely fooled.

That’s also part of the reason why Catra was so suicidal and lifeless after: the crutch she’d been using just to keep herself upright for four seasons just got yanked out from under her along with all chances of ever getting to double back down on that villainy again. Nowhere to go, and not even a mask to hide behind any more.

And honestly, I could keep talking on and on about just… The amazing amount of narrative complexity and precision and psychological depth that went into pulling this moment off. It’s amazing. But I’ve also spent like two and a half hours working on this post, so that’s that. If you read this far, get yourself a cookie or the snack of your choice. You earned it.

#spop #spop spoilers #catra #double trouble #spop meta #my meta #child abuse #and probably #ptsd #if we're being honest #abuse survival psychology

[multiverseforger]

Leonard Snart was raised by an abusive father and took refuge with his grandfather, who worked in an ice truck. When his grandfather died, Snart grew tired of his father's abuse and set out to start a criminal career. Snart joined up with a group of small-time thieves and in planning out a robbery, each was issued a gun and a visor to protect their eyes against the flashes of gunfire. This visor design would later be adapted by Snart into his trademark costume. In recent years he has added a radio receiver to them which picks up the police band to monitor local law enforcement. Snart and the other thugs were captured by the Flash and imprisoned. Snart decided to go solo, but knew he had to do something about the local hero, the Flash.[4]

Snart read an article that theorized that the energy emissions of a cyclotron could interfere with the Flash's speed. He designed a weapon to harness that power and broke into a cyclotron lab, intending to use the device to charge up his experimental gun. As he was finishing his experiment, a security guard surprised Snart. Intending to use his gun only to scare the guard, he inadvertently pulled the trigger and discovered that his weapon had been altered in a way he had never imagined. The moisture in the air around the guard froze. Intrigued by this twist of fate, Snart donned a parka and the aforementioned visor and declared himself to be Captain Cold - the man who mastered absolute zero.[7]

Snart then committed a series of non-lethal crimes, on one occasion placing the city in suspended animation in an attempt to force Iris West to marry him as he had fallen in love with her when he saw her in the prison, but the Flash got through a wall of ice and was able to reverse the process. He later fell in love with a newscaster, and competed with Heat Wave (in his first appearance) over her in a crime spree, but they were both beaten by the Flash. But after Barry Allen's death, during the Crisis on Infinite Earths, Captain Cold became a bounty hunter with his sister Lisa, the Golden Glider.[4]

During the events of Underworld Unleashed, Captain Cold lost his soul to Neron but Wally West brought it back to the land of the living. He soon returned to crime, this time a member of Wally's Rogues Gallery. The Rogues had first been assembled when another Flash foe, the super-intelligent Gorilla Grodd had broken them out of jail to distract the Flash. The Golden Glider had abandoned her bounty hunter career and had started partnering with a series of thugs who she dressed in a costume, armed with a copy of Captain Cold's signature Cold Gun, and called Chillblaine. Already distraught over the death of her lover, the Top, it seemed that the supposed death of her brother pushed her over the edge. But the last Chillblaine was a little smarter and more vicious. He murdered the Golden Glider, prompting Captain Cold to hunt him down, torture him and kill him by freezing his outer layer of skin and then pushing him off a high rise building. Not long after that, Snart was framed by a new incarnation of Mister Element. He used his Element Gun to simulate Cold's gun, using ice and cold to murder several police officers before Captain Cold and the Flash discovered who was actually responsible. With the death of his sister, and having killed Chillblaine and Mr. Element in vengeance, Cold has again become an unrepentant criminal. However, during a confrontation with Brother Grimm, Cold actually worked with Wally West to defeat the powerful magic user, although this was mainly because he and Mirror Master had been betrayed by Grimm and wanted revenge.[4]

Captain Cold was declared the leader of the Flash's Rogues Gallery. His skill and experience have made him a strong leader to the likes of the Weather Wizard, the new Trickster, the new Mirror Master, and the new Captain Boomerang. Len seems to have taken the young Captain Boomerang under his wing, after the elder Boomerang was recently killed. Tabloids rumoured that Captain Cold's sister, the Golden Glider, was Boomerang's mother, making him Captain Cold's nephew. This turned out to be false, however, as the new Boomerang's mother has been revealed to be Meloni Thawne, who is also the mother of Bart Allen. Despite his more ruthless nature as of late, Captain Cold's heart is not completely frozen, evidenced by having sent flowers to honor Sue Dibny, murdered wife of the Elongated Man.[volume & issue needed]

Traditionally, Captain Cold is driven by three things: money, women, and the desire to beat Barry Allen. Although not the lecher that Captain Boomerang was, Len Snart has an eye for the ladies, particularly models. When Barry Allen died, Captain Cold drifted for a while, jumping back and forth over the lines of crime and justice. He was captured by the Manhunter and served time in the Suicide Squad, worked with his sister as a bounty hunter (Golden Snowball Recoveries), and, with his longtime friend and sometimes nemesis Heat Wave, encountered Fire and Ice of the Justice League. He has teamed up with various villains over the years other than the many Rogues. These include Catwoman and the Secret Society of Super Villains. His favorite baseball team is the Houston Astros.[volume & issue needed]

"One Year Later"Edit

In the 2006 "One Year Later" storyline, he and several other Rogues are approached by Inertia with a plan to kill the Flash (then Barry Allen). Though Inertia was defeated, Captain Cold, Weather Wizard, Heat Wave, Mirror Master and Abra Kadabra killed Bart with a combined barrage of their elemental weapons. He, Heat Wave, and Weather Wizard seemed to express guilt, however, after learning the identity of the Flash and how young he was.

Salvation RunEdit

Captain Cold is one of the exiled villains featured in the 2007-08 miniseries Salvation Run along with his fellow Rogues: Heat Wave, Weather Wizard, Mirror Master, and Abra Kadabra.

New RoguesEdit

The New Rogues version of Captain Cold is Chill, a unknown man who possesses a Cold Gun.

Final Crisis: Rogues' RevengeEdit

In the 2008 miniseries Final Crisis: Rogues' Revenge, Captain Cold and the Rogues briefly joined Libra's Secret Society of Super Villains. In Final Crisis: Rogues' Revenge story, however, Cold and the rest of the Rogues reject Libra's offer, wanting to stay out of the game. Before they can retire, they hear of Inertia escaping and decide to stick around long enough to get revenge for being used.[8] Cold and his group are challenged by a new set of Rogues, formed by Libra to be their replacements. The new group, having kidnapped Cold's father, challenge the Rogues, and are defeated and killed. Cold goes to his father, talking to him about the abuse he suffered, and the fate of his sister. After the elder Snart insults him and his mother, calling them weak, Cold punches him, but finds himself unable to kill him, instead getting Heat Wave to do it.[9] The Rogues have their confrontation with Inertia, despite interference by Zoom and Libra, and kill Inertia. Libra then reveals that he needs the Rogues because Barry Allen has returned from the dead, and the Flashes are potential threats to him and Darkseid. Though shocked by the news that Allen is alive, Cold still rejects his offer of membership. After regrouping, Cold and the other Rogues agree not to retire, claiming that the game is back on.[10] In "Final Crisis" #7, someone that looks like Captain Cold appears as a Justifier and is seen fighting the Female Furies alongside the other Justifiers under Lex Luthor's control.

The Flash: RebirthEdit

In the 2009 The Flash: Rebirth miniseries, Captain Cold is seen with the other Rogues, reading about Barry Allen's return and claiming that they would need more of the Rogues.[11] The Rogues are still debating Allen's return, with Cold saying it's time to pull out their contingency plan that Scudder came up with, stating "In case The Flash returns, break glass."[12]

"Blackest Night"Edit

In the 2009–2010 "Blackest Night" storyline, the Rogues realize that the bodies of various dead Rogues are missing and prepare to fight them. Captain Cold knows that his sister, the Golden Glider, is among the reanimated Black Lanterns but is still ready to lead the Rogues against the zombies.[13] He is confronted by the Black Lantern Glider, who attempts to use his feelings of love for her against him. However, Captain Cold manages to suppress these feelings long enough for him to fight back, freezing her within a block of ice.[14] He subsequently kills Owen Mercer by throwing him into a pit with his Black Lantern father when he learns that Owen has been feeding people to his father in the belief that consuming flesh will restore him to life, informing Owen that Rogues do not kill women and children.[15]

The Flash (Vol. 3)Edit

In The Flash (Vol. 3), Captain Cold and the Rogues visit Sam Scudder's old hideout and unveil a giant mirror with the words In Case of Flash: Break Glass written on it and release beings from a Mirror World upon breaking it.[16] However, Captain Cold is told by Mirror Master he had discovered that the giant mirror is actually a slow acting poison.[17]

The New 52Edit

In the timeline of the 2011 company-wide reboot of all its superhero titles, The New 52, Captain Cold is reintroduced as a younger man than in the previous timeline and now with his Rogues lives with a code to never kill. His origin remains the same, however, his sister Lisa has not been the Golden Glider, and is instead dying of cancer. Upon learning that the hospital does not have enough energy to power a laser that could save her life, because of an EMP seemingly caused by the Flash, Cold blames him for everything that has happened to him, including a falling out with the Rogues, and decides to break the rules of their "game" and kill the Flash. Captain Cold has undergone experiments that have given him ice-based metahuman powers, including the ability to slow down the molecules around him, creating a field of inertia that reduces the Flash's speed to human level, allowing Captain Cold to touch him and effortlessly beat him.[18] He and the Rogues are set to return,[19] but later defeated them with help from Flash, and the Pied Piper.[20]

After freeing the Trickster and attending the meeting at the Justice League Watchtower, the Rogues return to Central and Keystone City, only to see that both have been destroyed by Gorilla Grodd. Grodd returns to Central City during the eclipse, while a ceremony commemorating Flash between the humans and gorillas is occurring. Grodd proceeds to take control of Central City as its king and renames it Gorilla City. Captain Cold sees the city's cops tied up from Grodd, and proceeds to free them. He then asks Mirror Master to help him get to the hospital where his sister is being held in order to check on her. While there, the Crime Syndicate send Black Bison, Hyena, Multiplex, Plastique and Typhoon to finish Grodd's work and destroy the hospital. The Rogues are able to hold them off, only to be interrupted by Deathstorm and Power Ring, who were sent by Ultraman to deal with the Rogues for resisting the Crime Syndicate's offer to join them. After battling Deathstorm and Power Ring, Deathstorm attacks Captain Cold and is able to extract his freezing powers from his DNA. Mirror Master attempts to get the Rogues out through the Mirror World, but Power Ring destroys the mirror causing the Rogues to be separated. Captain Cold ends up at Luthor and his Kryptonian clone's location where they are also joined by Black Manta, who has retrieved Black Adam from the ocean.[21] Luthor realizes that, with the help of his clone, Black Adam, Black Manta, and Captain Cold, he may be able to stop the Crime Syndicate. Captain Cold and the rest of the squad, now joined by Batman, Catwoman, Sinestro and Deathstroke, infiltrate the fallen Watchtower, where Black Manta kills the Outsider and Cold proceeds to shatter Johnny Quick's right leg after having frozen the molecules in it with his cold gun. He then unmasks the hooded prisoner brought over from Earth-3, revealing it to be Alexander Luthor, who is their version of Shazam, Mazahs, who states he will kill them all.[22][volume & issue needed] After defeating the crime syndicate, Captain Cold is pardoned by the U.S government, and becomes a member of the Justice League, along with Luthor.

DC RebirthEdit

Snart and the Rogues first made a cameo appearance in the DC Rebirth's storylines; they are fleetingly watching a news report about the many newly created speedsters appearing throughout the city in The Flash #3. Snart quips that it is time for the Rogues to leave Central City for a while. Visually the Rogues still seem to be based upon their New 52 appearances in this cameo, though when Snart later appears in one of Flash's memory flashbacks he has resorted to an even older look. He and the other Rogues retain these costumes in their later appearances.

Snart and the Rogues make their first full-length appearance in The Flash #15, where they are attempting to steal a valuable golden statue of the god Mercury from the small island nation of Corto Maltese. The Flash arrives to stop them, but they turn out to be constructs of Mirror Master laid so that the Rogues can commit a crime spree in Central City. Captain Cold reveals what he had been working on in his absence from the city—a "black ice gun" that uses the anti-Speed Force weaponry of the terrorist group Black Hole combined with his regular freeze gun. After a fight, the Golden Glider had a chance to kill the Flash, but was talked out of it by her fellow Rogues. Despite this setback, Flash manages to finally beat Snart and the rest of the Rogues without killing them. By the end of The Flash #17, Snart appears to be ready to take over Iron Heights from the more neophyte villains, including Papercut.

In the Watchmen sequel Doomsday Clock, Captain Cold and his fellow Rogues are among the villains that attend the underground meeting held by Riddler that talks about the Superman Theory.[23]

[alirhi]

The problem with DJ

Like I said, sweetie gets his own post lol. It's funny how far he's come, from a random side character made just to be killed off, to my go-to RP boy, to my favorite character I've ever written. I'll skip the origin story lol (aka the irrelevant random RPs over the years) and get right to the meat of the problem: Crossroads.

It all really comes back to my flaky friend, A. Back when she was creative and invested, she made this crazy girl, Casey, who DJ fell head-over-heels in love with. Casey was highly toxic and came with some unusual baggage, but that's what I loved about her as a character. And honestly? Every girl in DJ's life is kind of toxic. That was rather the point.

DJ describes himself as "a walking, talking stereotype." He's a broke, drug-addicted teen from the wrong side of the tracks with an abusive alcoholic father. His mother committed suicide when DJ was 4, and DJ's been an addict since he was 13. He's also got ADHD, and he's a genius. Sleeps through the few classes he actually attends and still gets straight As genius. He's got two distinctly different groups of friends: his more straight-laced school friends (most of whom have known him since pre-drug days), and his rave/burnout friends. He's also an indiscriminate (ish XD) manwhore. He'll sleep with literally any girl who shows interest, as long as he's not her first (ties into his lack of self-worth and stuff. he doesn't want anyone to be "stuck with" the memory of him as her first - Casey straight-up lies to his face to get him to fuck her 😂 I love her. she's so awful...)

I eventually gave him a little brother, because I'd never put much thought into why DJ - who, again, is scary smart, and also unnervingly self-aware; pretty much impervious to denial - would do drugs. When he was just a random RP character, I...didn't really care? 😂 His background and motivations were less important than the hijinks he got himself into. But then A fell as hard for him as I did, and we decided to give him a real story, so he needed a real motive. Enter baby brother AJ, who is their father's true target, so DJ does stupid shit to piss dad off and keep those fists flying at him, not baby bro.

When DJ meets Casey, he's drunk and high and accidentally gropes her. She punches him and knocks his ass out lmao. He later apologizes, and she and her twin brother Seamus join DJ's school friend group, and she and DJ become fwb. That's the most he can really offer; DJ doesn't date, because he knows he won't be faithful, so why string a girl along? Naturally, because he's book smart but otherwise kind of a moron (lol not really, just no will to live. he tried to kill himself 3 times before he was introduced to drugs. his friends keep warning him about STDs and he's like "eh, death by karma actually sounds pretty apropos") he ends up getting Casey (and a couple of other girls) pregnant.

One of those other girls is his dealer/rave bestie, Luna. Aside from Casey and her family, here is the biggest divergence between the story A and I worked out together, and the one I'm now writing alone. A hated Luna; she hated anyone who was competition for Casey, because she'd latched so hard onto this DJ/Casey pairing that everything that could have been something for them to overcome, she just saw as a threat that needed to be squashed. So she insisted on killing off not just the baby (Lu was always going to miscarry), but also Luna. Y'all... that hurt. A lot. I adore Luna. I'd sooner kill off DJ (and in fact, there's a version of the story where he ODs and dies, and Casey eventually marries AJ). I did not want to kill Luna. But for the sake of not arguing with A forever, I did, and it became a huge part of the overall story, because DJ was in love with Luna. I saw this as an opportunity to explore poly love. A was just like "fuck that. kill her. want a poly ship? Thow Izzie-" (one of DJ's school friends, Izumi) "-into the mix! Casey likes her!" Gods forbid I wanted a little friction and compromise, people finding common ground and learning to live together. DJ likes Izzie, he does. And Izzie canonically does have a huge crush on him. But she's possessive and catty - just like Casey - and they would have imploded.

When I decided to remove A from the equation, my first impulse was "fuck yeah! I don't have to kill Luna! LUNA STAYS, BITCHES!!!" but like...

Now I have to rework DJ's entire arc, because his crippling grief and guilt over her death drove pretty much the rest of his story.

Anyway, in the old version (with the three phases), in phase 1, DJ got clean, married Casey, and got his shit together. In phase 2, they were gender-swapped (there's a reason for that beyond a god's weird sense of humor lol but I'll get to that in a minute) and DJ went from a mousy drug-addicted pacifist to a deadly cleaner for Casey's Irish mob family. It all ties into which parent (s)he is afraid to reflect. male!DJ is terrified of becoming his father; female!DJ is disgusted by what she sees as her mother's weakness and refuses to be her. So while boy-Deej danced and played drums and never took a swing at anyone even in jest, girl-Deej was a fighter, and a damn angry one. In phase 3, back to being a boy and a druggie, DJ overdoses and dies. And the Goddess who'd been trying to get her hands on him this whole time finally manages it. See, Adaghar (god who gender-swapped DJ and Casey) knew about Larash's (goddess who wanted DJ) obsession, so he was trying to make sure DJ lived a long life and went to literally any afterlife that Larash couldn't reach. She finally gets him, and through a series of odd events, he ends up killing Adaghar and taking his place, becoming a god.

That's all gone. 😂 Now DJ's just DJ, no grand destiny or anything, just a kid with an awful home life who needs to clean his act up and do right by his kids. Honestly, that's enough imo. I still adore him and can't wait to get his story done so I can read it... but I'm totally stuck. I don't know how his story ends anymore. I know he can't end up with Luna even if she's alive because they'll end up strung out and on welfare for the rest of their short, painful lives. They are deeply, deeply in love with each other, but they're both tortured addicts and Luna has zero self control. Neither of them will ever get clean if they're together.

And like... that's not even getting into all the craziness with DJ's oldest son, Ari. Ari had different versions, too - one where DJ had no idea he existed until he was about 7 (and had gone through some shit, poor kid) and showed up on daddy's doorstep; that version grew to be an angry, snarky little shit and I love him to pieces. Then there's a version where DJ found him when he was 2 and cleaned his act up and Ari grew into a happy, well-adjusted kid. And obviously in the girl-DJ version, she, y'know, gave birth to him lmao so she knew about him. But Ari had this whole arc with a vampire and he moved to Achlys in one version, and in another (the one where DJ died) he was adopted by AJ and Casey and became a doctor, and... ugh. I love this kid. And now everything about him is a big question mark, even more so than DJ cuz - guess what? the vampire was A's character, too! 🙄😖

Blargh. I dunno, guys. I don't know what to do with this whole thing.

#writer problems #rant #dj gallagher #halp

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 55: Vɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ Bʏ Aɴʏ Mᴇᴀɴs

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Settled in the sunshine of the courtyard, I enjoyed the bustle of activity around me, whilst safe in the knowledge that I didn’t have any current responsibilities or risk of surprise attack. It was relaxing to be around familiar faces and to have the time to reflect on my feelings. My time with Arlo gave me little time to think and I relished in the opportunity to let my guard down for a while. I jumped at the arrival of Bellamy, who smiled warmly down at me.

“There you are, Trouble. So, I managed to get access to the training space for this afternoon and the trainees have been told that you’re offering a session. They’re actually pretty pumped. You still feel good enough to instruct?” He investigated with an obvious enthusiasm in his manner and I raised my brows in surprise. Immediately I regretted not discussing a time frame when I’d agreed to this favour and took a moment to gather my words.

“I didn’t expect to be doing that today, but...sure, I can do it for you.” I answered with a forced smile and mentally tried to assure myself that I was able to teach despite the dull ache in my ribs. He looked momentarily concerned as he examined my face and stepped closer to place a hand on my arm in a protective gesture.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do it if you’re in too much pain.” He enquired with his brows knitted tightly together and I could tell that he was analysing me for any signs of weakness that I might be burying. I shook my head in defiance and hoped that my well-practiced in control act would be enough to fool him. “Alright. You’ll be training with me, so don’t worry about getting hurt.” He revealed in a tone that he clearly intended to be reassuring and I couldn’t help a wry smile at his plan.

“Aww, that’s sweet. You didn’t want me beating the snot out of anyone else, huh?” I taunted deviously and his brows shot up in surprise at my brazen attitude. “So selfless.” I teased with a playful prod at his ribs that caused him to flinch reactively and he scoffed with a subtle fondness in his eyes as he shook his head at me.

“Very funny.” He commented with his charmingly wonky smile that made my heart leap and I basked in the warmth of our banter. It was refreshing to indulge in flirtatious teasing after such intensity with Arlo and the contrast only increased my appreciation of my relationship with Bellamy. His eyes grew serious as he viewed me and I recognised a genuine worry in his posture as he cleared his throat to speak again. “You’re teaching them to fight someone bigger, especially men. Did you honestly think that I was gonna risk any man in this camp hurting you?” He detailed with just a hint of aggression in his voice as he glanced around us as if analysing for any potential threats and I chuckled at his protectiveness. It was entirely unnecessary but I was flattered by his determination to shield me from any harm; it was frustratingly romantic.

“Well, you just make sure you don’t go easy on me, alright? They need to learn and they can’t do that if my assistant is too afraid of injuring me to properly participate. Think you can do that?” I probed with a brow raised at him in suspicion and he fidgeted on the spot in a display of discomfort that he tried unsuccessfully to hide behind a forced display of confidence.

“Sure.” He answered firmly and I shook my head at him in disbelief. I could already recognise that he was reluctant at this suggestion and my mind began racing with all of the potential ways in which this could be disastrous for our relationship. I felt a panicked tug in my chest that screamed to rescind my offer and as I met his eyes, I knew that he could sense my unease. “Don’t worry Inds. I’ll do whatever you need to teach them. Now come on, we should get there early to set up.” He excused before encouraging me to follow him and I quashed the feelings of dread that he would be overly gentle with me.

We entered a space that Bellamy had clearly been using for guard training for a while and set up soft items to break the fall to the ground, amongst other methods. When people began to enter, I was stunned at the number of trainees who had turned up for me and found myself wracking my brain for ideas. I wished that we’d had the time to practice together, so that I had a course prepared for them but quickly realised that Bellamy was likely counting on my impulsivity. I was relieved when he took the lead to address the gathered crowd and instructed them to pair up to practice their usual drills so that I could observe the technique that they were currently using. 

I noticed that much of the methods that they had been taught depended on core strength and easily understood why the females of the trainee guard had expressed concern for this. Instructors that were built like Lincoln and Bellamy were clearly used to having superior strength, but for the average female in our camp such as myself, this was not something that we could rely on. I worried that if they were to come into contact with grounders, who fought viciously, or a well trained force such as the guards of Mount Weather, these manoeuvres would be insufficient. Mentally, I scanned through the memories of my own experiences in an effort to uncover specific teachable information and as mentioned by Bellamy, I focused on the fights that I’d barely scraped through with my life. The methods that I had resorted to were likely more extreme than anything that leadership would consider as a regular curriculum, but if Bellamy truly wished for me to be honest about the reason for my survival, I knew that these choices were the key. I glanced over at him, prompting him to call the class to attention and cleared my throat nervously.

I found myself glossing over the lessons of my fathers in my memory that had shaped me into the survivor that I had become, combined with the self defence books that he’d left behind that I’d studied for exercise. 

“Alright. Welcome to fighting like a scrappy lunatic 101.” I opened in a light hearted manner, earning several chuckles from the audience and a sly smile from Bellamy as he remained beside me protectively. “Some of you may not realise yet that I have zero formal training, and no ‘official’ techniques that I can teach you, but you asked for me so here I am. Mostly, I think I’ve been selected because I’m small, but somehow still alive and you are all trying to figure out how. Honestly, it’s a mystery to me too! But we’re gonna work through it together.” I announced in a jesting tone and was glad to notice that the group seemed to be relaxing into my approach to teaching. They glanced between each other with excited smiles and their positive reactions allowed some of my nerves to dissipate.

“Let’s start with what I can offer. You’ve all been trained to be guards. You’re mainly planning to be there as a deterrent inside of camp. You have guns which you expect to be able to use and so you’ve learned to fight in a certain, morally acceptable way. That’s fine and absolutely useful knowledge to have. In fact, 90% of the time that will be enough for your roles. But as those of you who have been on the ground for long enough know, there’s always that 10% of the time where Earth bites you on the ass and you have to do whatever it takes to survive. I’m here to teach you for that 10%.” I revealed as I wandered from side to side in front of my gathered audience and managed to pick out the faces of Harper, Monroe and Raven in the crowd, who all smiled widely at me with a pride that made my stomach flip. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you guys: if you’re ever in a situation where you have to use these things, you’re in trouble. The person you’re fighting against isn’t going to care that you are a young woman, smaller than them, potentially unarmed or maybe even captive. They will do anything necessary to survive and you need to be willing to do the same. If you’re not comfortable with that, there’s the door. You can leave now.” I explained in a firm, cold manner and allowed several minutes of tense silence to pass for my potential trainees to make their decision. When the group remained unchanged, I peeked over at Bellamy with a thankful smile and felt a hint of confidence bloom in my chest. It was strange to acknowledge that there were more people in camp than just Bellamy who believed in me and I became determined to be worthy of their faith. 

“Alright, let’s start with something simple. I want you all to look at us. Really assess the two of us. If we were in a life or death fight, it should be obvious that Bellamy has a powerful advantage over me. These are the kind of odds that I want you to stand a chance at overcoming.” I stated as I faced Bellamy and he chuckled at me, whilst a few of the audience scoffed in disbelief. Their doubt was unsurprising, as I understood how impossible that would seem but since I had landed on the ground, I’d proven repeatedly to be able to overcome odds that I would never have imagined. I glanced over their nervous faces with a resolute smile and decided in that moment that I would imbue some of the lessons I absorbed from my late fathers books.

“If you’re faced against an opponent that you can’t overpower, never tell yourself that’s the end. Instead, you’re going to focus on using everything that you have available to you. You’re going to fight smart, rather than strong. They will have already decided that they can beat you just from looking at you. They’ll be overconfident and they’ll expect to win out of brute force. Use that to your advantage.” I explained to the enthralled crowd, as excited whispers began to spread between them and took a deep breath to prepare myself for the next step. “Alright big boy, let’s start with an example. Come at me.” I ordered as I strolled over to the crash mats and squared my shoulders. Bellamy raised his brows at me with uncertainty, his back turned to the crowd to address me.

“What?!” He hissed as his eyes widened in shock and I felt my stomach flip with dread at his reaction. “Indie, I thought we’d be slowly demonstrating techniques, not actually sparring?” He breathed quietly, careful to keep his voice gentle enough that he would not be overheard as he neared me and I sighed in disappointment. Despite my initial reservations, I had forced myself to believe him when he promised to do whatever I needed and I couldn’t help feeling somewhat frustrated in his lack of trust in my abilities.

“The technique relies on surprise. I can’t demonstrate that properly if I tell you what to do. Now come on, you said you’d do whatever I needed.” I argued with exasperation as I crossed my arms at him and he shifted awkwardly on the spot. He glanced back at the waiting trainees and then returned his attention to me with a conflicted expression. “Bel, either you can spar with me or I’ll have to ask Lincoln, and you know that he won’t be delicate.” I muttered in a low enough volume that only he would hear and he grimaced at this threat. We both knew from our separate experiences of training with Lincoln that he was highly proficient at simulating the power of a real fight within a safe environment and we had several times left these experiences with injuries from our own overexertion.

He finally nodded in bitter agreement and reluctantly strolled over to take a position opposite me. As we waited to start, I noticed that his brows were deeply furrowed and knew that he was crucially afraid of hurting me. I hoped that once he realised that I could hold my own he would relax and steeled myself to prove that I didn’t need protection. After a few moments of hesitation, he struck forward clumsily and I bounced lightly on my feet to manoeuvre out of his path. He almost sprawled onto one of the crash pads before he managed to save himself and I continued to flow quickly out of reach of his half hearted attacks. I kicked forward with enough power to knock him without actually causing any injury and his eyes widened in surprise as the impact pushed him aside. He stepped backwards to gain some space to recover and in quick succession, I trod on his foot and then struck rapidly at his throat. He gasped and lunged forward in an attempt to grab me, but I bounced out of his reach easily again. This time he was unable to recover from the momentum of his attack and crashed into the ground in a rather ungraceful movement. I turned back to my audience, who were watching with a mixture of disbelief and admiration with a smug smile.

“Alright, let’s break down the important information from that: the bigger your opponent is, the slower they will move. In order to counter that, you should always remain light on your feet and move constantly. You can tire them out this way, whilst also remaining outside of their reach. If they are taller than you, they’ll have longer arms which means they can usually land a hit on you before you can even get close to them. Stay at a distance until you are ready to strike and as I just demonstrated, allow them to use their own momentum against them. When you do move from defensive to offensive, make good use of your legs as they are longer so you’ll have a better chance at reaching past their guard without whilst still maintaining some space for yourself. In order to maximise the power you can put into those strikes, you need to practice your kicks and strengthen those leg muscles. Find your usual sparring partner and see how those moves change your fights.” I summarised and they eagerly spread out to begin practicing these new techniques together. I wandered over to Bellamy to assist him to his feet and he viewed me with a fresh amusement.

“Well, now all of these fights make sense! You’re a sly little fox.” He commented as he pushed me playfully and I giggled at his reaction. My chest swelled with relief as I noticed that he seemed to have relaxed as I had hoped and I was proud that I’d managed to hold my own against him. Despite the fact that I knew Bellamy would never intentionally hurt me, I had to admit that he was still a formidable opponent due to both the size/strength difference and his experience as a guard.

“You didn’t really think that I was going swing for swing with all these big guys, did you?” I teased with a wink and he shook his head at me with an awestruck smile. For the first time, I considered what he had imagined to be the events of my previous fights and his disbelief finally seemed to make sense to me. “You only know a few of my tricks, don’t get too confident. I’m still gonna kick your ass.” I taunted as I crossed my arms at him confidently and a subtle snort escaped as he burst into chuckles at my small stature.

“Alright Xena, I won’t be so easy on you now.” He remarked with a smirk and I felt my stomach fizz with appreciation at the fond nickname. 

Once I’d wandered the room to observe their practice and corrected any developing mistakes, I returned to standing at the front of the space. As one of the recruits attempted to use a tackle that they had been taught in a previous session, my memory was jogged back to the self defence books that I’d studied in my cell when I became paranoid about our new classes. It seemed like a lifetime ago, sitting in the dark cell on the Ark and obsessively attempting to prepare for some unknown threat so that I could protect Octavia. I ran through the limited information that I remembered and considered which of it would be most beneficial to fill the gaps in their learning. I gathered up the group and Bellamy patiently ran through moves slowly as I explained them. Once we’d finished, I addressed them in preparation for another round of sparring. 

“So, you want to take advantage of areas of weakness. Those are the nose, eyes, throat, kneecaps, feet and, on men especially, the groin. Never underestimate the power of a good kick to the balls!” I instructed, to which Bellamy flinched nervously and several trainees laughed. “Don’t forget to use other parts of your body than just your fists. The heel of your hand can give a nasty strike, especially if you’re hitting upwards. Also, your elbows, your feet or your knees if you’re kicking. Don’t be afraid to get creative.” I listed as the trainees nodded in response and I could already recognise the confidence that developed in their posture. 

“What I want to demonstrate is how when it gets desperate, you need to get creative. Brute strength isn’t everything, use your mind to outwit them.” I announced to prepare them for the kind of scenario that I was aiming to simulate, before turning back to Bellamy with a nod. “Alright. This time, I want you to pin me down.” I ordered nervously, expecting for him to argue but instead he threw me a suggestive look that broke some of the tension of my dread. 

He swiftly tackled me to the floor and despite being prepared for it, the power that he was able to command still surprised me. I wiggled manically under his heavy hold and when I was unable to easily free myself, I resorted to forcing my knee into his side. He flinched, releasing one of my hands, which I used to jab into his armpit and loosen his grip on the hand that was still trapped. Whilst he was distracted, I barged my shoulders forward into his to shove him off me and crawled onto my hands and knees in an attempt to escape from him. Bellamy rushed after me and pulled me into a hold that although tight enough to be uncomfortable, would not actually choke me. I recognised this brace from the students and knew that it was crucial to teach them how to escape it. I made a few gripes for his face or neck, but was unable to reach him from the position that he’d contained me. 

Mentally, I imagined that this was someone who truly meant to kill me in order to force my mum instincts to take over and without thinking, I bit into his hand, earning a dramatic yowl. The moment that he released some of pressure in shock, I burst my way out of his restraint and pinned him to the ground with my hands lightly on his neck. We were interrupted by a round of applause and some cheers, which broke us apart. We helped each other to our feet and brushed ourselves off as the noise faded out.

“Did you just bite me?” Bellamy breathed in a mixture of shock and admiration as his mouth fell open. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Was this not the right place for me to do that?” I asked suggestively and caught several giggles from nearby girls. A subtle smirk spread across his face, despite his attempt to bury it and I thoroughly enjoyed the way that his eyes studied me with a fresh excitement. Reluctantly, I tore my attention away from him and returned to facing our audience. 

“The unfortunate truth is that when it comes to life and death, there are no limits. You need to be willing to do things that you never imagined you could do to another human being. Don’t be afraid to bite, scratch, pinch, spit or even pull hair if you want to. These things may not be high impact attacks, but they’ll come in handy when you’ve got no other options and will usually shock your opponent enough to give you a chance to escape or strike properly. Once you’ve managed to catch them off guard, make the most of every moment that you earn with surprise. Now, we’re going to run through some simple tackles and holds that you can use to manipulate their strength and momentum, so you’re not dependent on your own muscles.”

***

The rest of the session passed quickly and the students left in high spirits. It was shocking to me how well the lesson had been received and I found myself pleased that I’d agreed to the unusual request. I sourced an ice pack for Bellamy and he took it from me with a disapproving smile. Although relieved that I hadn’t seriously injured him, there was something amusing about witnessing him struggling in the aftermath of fighting me and I recognised from his expression that this was a highly unexpected result for him. Movement to my side drew my focus and I turned to find an unfamiliar face studying me with an entertained admiration.

“So, you’re the infamous Indigo that I keep hearing about! You’re exactly as described, that’s a rarity.” She crooned with a wide smile and I stared back at her in uncertainty. “Oh, I’m Gina. Raven, Harper and Monty have been telling me all about you.” She explained as she held her hand out and I shook it awkwardly. “Well, I’ve managed to get a little info from this one too whenever I can get him off the topic of guard duty. You’re pretty much the only other thing he’ll talk about.” She added with a playful wink and I glanced over at Bellamy fondly. He cleared his throat and tried to avoid meeting my eyes in embarrassment.

“Yeah, he’s definitely a bit of a workaholic.” I agreed as I looked poignantly down at Bellamy who simply rolled his eyes in response. “It’s nice to meet you. I heard you’ve been getting to know some of the others. It’s comforting to know that someone’s keeping an eye on them whilst I’m gone.” I replied casually with my hands in my pockets and she smiled warmly in response. She had curly brown hair and large, honest eyes. I couldn’t place what caused it, but there was something trustworthy about her and I immediately understood how she’d been able to integrate with my little family so easily.

“Yeah, they’re all great people and it’s clear that they’ve been through a hard time. I didn’t come to Earth until the Ark, so I want to do anything I can to help now that we’re finally here.” She revealed with an earnest attitude and I was surprised by how immediately open she was. It was clear that she had a strong work ethic and I was impressed by her willingness to contribute. She glanced between Bellamy and I, seeming to suddenly realise that she was interrupting and shuffled awkwardly on the spot. “Anyway, I’ll let you be. You’ve had a busy day. Hit me up if you want to hang out, it would be nice to spend some time together.” She suggested with a friendly smile before wandering off and I glanced over at Bellamy with confusion.

“You get used to her. She’s a nice girl and she wants to help. We could do with more like that.” He commented, before getting to his feet with a groan and I chuckled under my breath at him. “Jeez Indie, when you said you were gonna kick my ass I didn’t think you actually meant it.” He breathed in a dramatic manner, causing me to snort in laughter.

***

After a comforting night snuggled up with Bellamy, I felt recharged enough to manage some check-ins on people and wandered into the courtyard. I was in the process of navigating to Jasper and Monty’s dorms when Councillor Kane blocked my path. 

“Indigo, I was hoping to catch you before you left camp. Could we talk?” He asked with an overly friendly smile fixed in place and I shuffled on the spot with uncertainty. Until this point, I’d really only seen him from afar and had made a significant effort to keep it that way. I was surprised to even find that he knew my name and realised that I couldn’t have remained as far under the radar as I believed I had.

“Umm, sure? What can I do for you Councillor?” I enquired with my brows furrowed together in confusion and he put a hand on my upper arm to lead me aside. Immediately, I was uncomfortable with the contact and shrugged him off with more aggression than intended.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He remarked as he led me inside and I felt nerves building in my chest as I followed behind him. Despite Bellamy’s frequent comments about his trustworthiness, I couldn’t help feeling as if I were in trouble and a voice at the back of my mind urged me to turn tail and run. As his boots echoed through the halls of the Ark, I was struck with a strange sense of deja vu from the day of my arrest, causing a wave of nausea to wash over me.

When we arrived at a small doorway, Kane stepped aside and gestured for me to enter first. I examined him suspiciously before I passed and the moment that I stepped inside I found Abby waiting with her usual serene smile. Her presence was immediately reassuring and I felt my shoulders drop their tension. We waited silently for Kane to join us, closing the door tightly behind him and then settling into a seat beside the familiar Chancellor in a carefree manner. Abby cleared her throat to draw my cautious gaze away from my detailed assessment of Kane as I tried to anticipate his intentions and as our eyes met, she smiled fondly.

“I’m sorry for the secrecy, Indigo. We wanted to be sure that this meeting was private and as unbiased as possible for you. As I’m sure you can imagine, we have a great deal to manage in setting up a sustainable community here. That’s what we’ve brought you here to discuss.” She addressed me with a calmness that demonstrated how well she had grown into her new role and I glanced between them with a baffled expression.

“With all due respect Chancellor, I’m not sure how that involves me?” I suggested with my best attempt at a well mannered tone and Abby’s smile grew into an amused grin. She peered over at Kane, who regarded me with a curious interest and seemed pleased to be given the opportunity to lead the conversation.

“We would like to establish a stronger alliance with the grounders. The ceasefire has been a blessing, but we need to negotiate trade and open communication with the Commander. For the time being, the most correspondence that we receive from her is permission to leave Arkadia for supplies or patrols.” He revealed with an evenness to his voice that almost made his suggestion sound reasonable, but I couldn’t contain a disbelieving scoff as I stared back at him. “That’s where you would be involved. I understand that you have been training with a grounder and integrating with their lifestyle. We’d like to utilise your experience to help us to plan our strategies and to approach the Commander. In order for us to properly receive your input, we would like you to join our council meetings.” Kane divulged and I felt my mouth fall open in shock. I gaped at the two of them for a few moments as if awaiting a punchline, but when neither of them spoke I found myself stuttering for words.

“W-what? Are you insane? I-you-what?!” I spat as I continued to gape at them and they simply calmly smiled back, only further fuelling my exasperation. “I know that negotiating the ceasefire was a hell of an achievement, but this is a completely different level of cohesion that you’re aiming for here. We’ve managed to earn the respect of one or two grounders for a couple of our people, but even they still view us as a whole as dangerous, clueless children compared to them. Our partnerships with Indra and Arlo were hard fought. We couldn’t do anything on a large enough scale to impress them all. It would never work. We would need individuals to be willing to change, to work with grounders, study with them, respect them and honestly I don’t think there are many people here with the grit to do that.” I stated in a frustrated rant as I reflected over my own initiation and the gruelling tasks that I’d undertaken since. There were very few people that I could imagine being willing to endure that kind of process and even fewer grounders that would offer the opportunity. I shook my head at the thought and Kane observed me with an unexpected understanding in his eyes.

“Indigo, I know that a lot changed whilst you were captive in Mount Weather. When you were taken, you and the rest of the 100 were at war with the grounders and you emerged to find that we allied to free you. It must be disorientating.” He commented and I rolled my eyes at him, feeling patronised. “Whilst you were there, the grounders came to Arkadia for a joint training session under the Commanders orders. It was chaotic, but it demonstrated to me that we could help one another and that the Commander was open to this possibility too. An alliance could be mutually beneficial. We just need your help to convince them of that.” He presented his case calmly, even in the face of my reactions as I began to pace in front of the two of them and only stopped to fix them both with a scrutinising look.

“Why me?” I asked in an accusing manner and they looked to each other awkwardly. “Octavia has been partnered with Indra for far longer. She has a close link to the Commander and she was here during this training session that you were so confident in. Surely she’s a better match? Or hell, Lincoln?! He’s been a grounder his entire life. Octavia and I pale in comparison and he has been an advocate for peace in the past. I can’t think why in the hell you would bring this to me?” I probed with annoyance growing in my voice as I listed points and Kane seemed to pass the responsibility of answering this question to Abby.

“We already asked Octavia. She was quite clear on her thoughts of who ‘her people’ were.” She answered quietly and a coy smile spread across my lips at this information. “And Lincoln still has a kill order on his head. Although he would be, and had been, useful for advice, he would not be able to participate in any meetings with the grounders.” She clarified as if this were an obvious disadvantage and I scoffed loudly at the incredulous implication.

“Meetings with the grounders? You want to send me out to discuss an alliance with people?!” I exclaimed, hardly able to believe what I was hearing and I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Kane seemed to be highly amused by my behaviour, rather than frustrated as I would have expected. “Have you completely lost your mind, Abby?” I argued, whilst she squirmed awkwardly in her seat under the intensity of my gaze.

“Take some time to consider it, Indigo. You don’t need to make a decision right now. Our next meeting is tomorrow.” Kane interrupted and I turned to face him with a stern scowl. “I remember your case and imprisonment. It was a tough one to follow the law on. You had a hard life on the Ark. You could be more here, just give yourself the opportunity.” He appealed in a manner that was likely intended to be understanding and I felt a passionate rage boiling to the surface as my hands tightened into fists at my sides.

“You don’t know shit!” I snapped, before quickly reminding myself that I couldn’t allow my anger to control me any longer. I took a few deep breaths to steady myself, then fixed Kane with a glare that would destroy a lesser man with it’s pressure alone. “I don’t need time to consider it. The answer is no. You can find someone else to be your scapegoat with the grounders.” I growled as I sharply turned on my heel and swept from the room.

#the 100 #oc #cw #fanfic #fanfiction #indigo #original character #bellamy blake #raven reyes #monroe #harper mcintyre #marcus kane #abby griffin #gina #bellamy x reader #bellamy x you #bellamy x oc #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake the 100 #bellamy blake series #the 100 rewrite #the 100 insert #the 100 fanfiction #wecomerunning #bellamyblakedaily #bellamyblakesource #bellamyblakeedit

[ketsuekki]

THE BLOODY WRAITH: JAPAN’S S-RATE BLIGHT!

PROFILE.

NAME: Keumi, Minami // 毛海美波. ALIASES: The Bloody Wraith (alt: The Bloody Onryō, The Bloody Goryō), Leech Bitch. AGE: 25 (as of chapter 296) D.O.B: 22nd of May. BLOOD TYPE: AB negative. GENDER: Cis female. SEXUALITY: Closeted bisexual, heavy preference for women. NOTABLE CONDITIONS: Antisocial Personality Disorder, Sexual Sadism Disorder, Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, anemia (occasional, result of quirk overuse), dyslexia. APPEARANCE: Pallid skin tone. Thick, wavy and short green hair that reaches just past her shoulders. Green eyes with prominent dark circles beneath them. Abnormally sharp canines and two pairs of fangs; one pair beside her canines and one pair below them. Large (large!) breasts with a thin and lithe build. Little muscle. Arms and legs covered in self-harm scars. Has a thin, raised scar across her throat. 187cm tall and weighs 65kg. ETHNICITY: ½ Russian, ½ Japanese. NATIONALITY: Russian (formerly), Japanese. OCCUPATION: freelance photographer, yakuza head, terrorist. AFFILIATIONS: All For One, The League of Villains, Ketsueki-kai.

QUIRK.

Minami’s quirk is “Blood Pump”!! It is an Emitter-type power that has run in the Inoue clan’s ruling branch for over two hundred years, and allows the user to produce and control their own blood. Things such as volume, power and shape can all be changed to the user’s will --- but although the blood can be manipulated into various forms, movements or even pressurised streams, it should be noted they are unable to actually solidify it beyond the consistency of an average clot. 

This quirk uses the holder’s vitality as “fuel” to make and exert control over their blood and is extremely draining; its use must be efficient and tactical to prevent extreme exhaustion or, in some cases, death. Minami can use Blood Pump at her maximum output for roughly twelve minutes before falling into unconsciousness. The blood can not be controlled from more than ten metres away if it isn’t in contact with the user’s body. 

Unless it is being actively suppressed with a nullification quirk or the bearer has run out of stamina, this quirk can be used for the survival of otherwise fatal injuries by compensating for blood loss and, if there’s the skill for it, even ‘manually’ running one’s own circulatory system until proper treatment arrives.

Minami’s unique iteration of this quirk is the result of her parents’ powers combining, allowing others to receive a temporary powerup via consumption; since her blood is saturated with her life force, others can become energized and have their own quirk factors boosted from consuming it. The other quality she inherited from her father’s ability --- Ambrosia --- makes her blood adjust itself to be registered as delicious no matter the person tasting (or smelling) it. It has the potential to be addictive.

BIOGRAPHY.

Minami was born in the slums of Moscow alongside her identical twin Kiseki; their parents were Keumi Rui and Keumi Hanako (nee Inoue). Her childhood was a grim one; her ‘normal’ being outright neglect, left to fend herself and her older sister with zero care from their parents for as long as she could remember --- and, to be honest, she preferred to be her own carer when the alternative was her parent’s abusive teachings. The slightest mistake was punished with the most severe beating in their dingy little excuse of a home, a routine that would leave Minami distorted beyond salvaging for the rest of her life.

The girls had been instructed to hide their quirk the moment it awakened (three years old for Minami, seven for Kiseki). Their mother had run away from her family to elope with her husband, and their quirk was one that would give them away faster than hanging up a banner across their apartment building declaring their identities. The twins complied; Minami simply didn’t dare to disobey her parents, no matter how irrational their orders were, while Kiseki found a twisted satisfaction in the attention that came with being an outlier in a superpower dominated society. But, for all their filial piety, they were still human, and humans make mistakes.

While Minami was as violent as a child could come, she could only get so far with her body --- weak, frail and sickly --- before she began to desire to unleash her quirk to give way to even more absolute victories. Her blood practically boiled beneath her skin in every fight, and the innate desire to bleed grew and grew until she just couldn’t resist slicing herself open any longer. From age seven, she began training her quirk for combat in secret, practicing in alleyways and on drunks and vagabonds. Kiseki declined her offers to spar together, deeming it ‘not worth making her clothes dirty’. In the classroom, she was an absolute terror to both her teachers and her classmates, slowly but surely becoming a queen of bullies as she tormented anyone who slighted (which was any easy thing to achieve, considering a budding sociopath’s definition of ‘insult’ would bend over backwards to somehow place the blame on you) her and Kiseki. 

At age fifteen, Minami used her quirk on another student in her sister’s defence. Word spread of her quirk amongst the community, and she was forced to announce it officially on the quirk register… A register that was quickly brought to the attention of people who had been searching for any listing of a blood-based ability for years. They were rather rare, even now, after all. 

It didn’t take long for the Inoue, a yakuza clan in borderline retirement, to collect their lost daughters. It came as a shock to the twins, who had never once been informed of any family outside their little group of four. Minami and Kiseki were told their parents were forgiven for eloping, that they themselves were to return to Japan and take their proper place as members of the ruling branch. Their parents would remain in Russia as a reward, since they had gone to such lengths to escape there. Predictably, that was a lie: Hanako and Rui were killed before the twins’ plane left the ground.

Kiseki was soon bought by a rising Pro Hero for a quirk marriage. For the family, it was a perfect match; the pro wanted to build a lineage that would aid his prestige, and the Inoue wished to go legitimate, something having connections to a powerful, popular hero would aid... It didn’t go as planned. Refusing to succumb to the fate her own mother escaped, Kiseki rebelled against the arrangement as much as possible, acting out and threatening to tell the media all about the lucky hero’s teenage-purchasing, eugenicist schemes, displeasing her fiancée and her now face saving grandparents. Unchanged from their foregone glory days, the Inoue honour killed the elder twin for ‘disgracing the clan’. Minami was not told of this occurrence, seeing her touch trigger emotional stability but, after becoming suspicious of the sudden radio silence from her beloved sibling, she tortured her cousin into revealing the truth about both her sister and her parents. 

Predictably, Minami murdered the other members of the ruling family in a fit of rage, leaving herself the sole heir to the Inoue at only sixteen. She came to regret being blinded by red almost immediately --- seeing as she failed to get the name of the hero who had helped kill Kiseki before they all kicked the big one. For as much as she now hated them, Minami had to admit they were good, too good, at what they did. She didn’t have the faintest idea on how to track down Kiseki’s fiancée, and the lower branches of the Inoue, her adorable extended family, couldn’t make a dent in her grandparent’s cover ups either. So: Minami did the only logical thing she could think of --- she bribed the erasure of all records of her family’s quirks, anticipating future police investigations, and then proceeded to curb stomp her way through every single hero she could get her hands on, revealing her face to them just before they died to judge their reactions. If they were Kiseki’s fiancée, even the most twisted pro would flinch or… Or something, upon seeing the face of someone they killed, right..?

Her strategy was no better than trying to find a needle in a haystack, and she knew it… But she couldn’t just leave Kiseki’s vengeance unfulfilled. That was simply the kind of person she was; someone who wished to make the people she loved happy, no matter the cost. For the people who were kind to someone as burdensome, as terrible as her… She would show her love by dedicating her everything to them. Even if they were dead, even if it wouldn’t change what happened, Minami would make all those who hurt them pay for it.

At age eighteen, she was approached by a man called All For One (‘what kind of fucking weirdo has three words as a name?’). He claimed to have heard of her troubles through her cousins, and wished to help. Without asking for anything in exchange, he dug up the identity of Kiseki’s fiancée and watched as Minami finally fulfilled her life’s purpose --- and then swiftly swooped in to give her to give her a new role to play as soon as the euphoria faded and the realisation she was once again worthless began to settle in. Grateful and desperate to be used, All For One replaced Kiseki as the holder of her heart. Minami became his servant, first and foremost.

After graduation from high school, she began work as a freelance photographer for the fun of it (and to maintain a civilian persona, she would cry to her amused cousins), grew the Ketsueki-kai’s criminal activities for no reason other than to spite the ghosts of the former ruling family, and brought about whatever bloodshed All For One wished for. Of course, Minami never quite lost her taste for hero killing, and continued to destroy any hero, celebrity, politician or even villain that happened to irritate her. Some bastards needed a good humbling every now and then, right? Wouldn’t want those egos of theirs to kill them before she did! Anyone who posed an obstacle to the Ketsueki-kai met the same fate.

Minami is known to murder a target’s entire household before the target themselves. She won’t refrain from killing witnesses, either --- unless All For One orders her not to. By the present day, she’s built up quite a reputation as an S-rated villain, garnering rather fanatic fans who adore the nightmarish gore she leaves in her wake. Her personal villainy has no true goal --- she simply wishes to chase her desires, Cause Problems On Purpose and earn All For One’s praise. 

If she were to be arrested, Minami would be sent to Tartarus.

#*the flower of hell #new and updated verse post time!!! #minami rlly is destined to be taken advantage of no matter the universe huh... #❝ THE LADY LEVIATHAN. ❞ → information.

[ask-hunterxhunter]

How do you think the adult trio would have been had they a chance to grow up in a normal stable family? Are their behaviors (mostly) a product of nature or nurture?

This is actually a very good question. I honestly believe that, inmost cases, nurture wins against nature. I’ll try to give my analysis ofeach case. Now, I just read a little about psychology for fun (and because I loveit), I’m not an expert and this is how I see things. It doesn’t mean, at all,that I am right.

Hisoka

The whole fandom agrees that something happened to Hisoka and verylikely made him into what he is today, but how much of this is connectedto the present is anyone’s guess. I think I mentioned how I noticed that Machi thought that Hisoka doesn’t talk about the “past” (being specific about it) and how hedisplays a desire to be in control of his own life, to the point he doesn’t open up to people (which seems to be more related to his personality ratherthan lifestyle). Also, note that Hisoka is part of the main characters (not the core ones, but important enough) and yet, nothing about his past has everbeen shown or mentioned. Even with the Spiders we at least had a briefflashback of Chrollo and some explanation about the Meteor City, which can give us some ideas of how things were for those who grew up there. Heck, Togashi has told us the background of characters that are not as much part of the main plot.

With Hisoka? Nope, nada, zero. The guy may as well have fallen from thesky with his Nen activated and searching for an opponent.

It keeps going back to Hisoka’s past. Contrary to Pariston, whoseems to be a born sociopath (perhaps even a complete psychopath), this makes me think that something seems to have pushed Hisoka. Even we can’t besure of how much of what he has displayed is genuine or a façade that he keeps around others (we have rarely seen him by himself) or the levels of disordershe seems (or most certainly) has.

Is it all connected to his past? We have no means of knowing. Hehas an intense bloodthirst and is always seeking opponents. Hey, maybe he was into fighting since he was a child anyway. He seems uninterested in formingbonds with people. Has he been betrayed at some point? Has he experienced atraumatic loss? We don’t know.

However, I do think most (if not all of it) is connected tosome event, if only for how twisted Hisoka is. So, it follows that if his life hadbeen different, if he had had a safe and stable environment, he would not bethe same he is today.

Would he still be into fighting? Possibly. I, at least, find it hard to imagine Hisoka not into fighting, though he wouldn’t be that much of a sadist (even if it remained his “call”) and might have emotional bonds with others regardless of their strength (he wouldn’t judge people based on this). Depending on his “family” and other events, he might have been a man who would actually use his Nen in order to help others. 

Illumi

Definitely yes. No question about it. We just have to look at thewhole Zoldyck family and Illumi’s own behavior and words in several occasions.For crying out loud, Killua was chained and whipped when he returned home (itdoesn’t matter if he broke the chains and his pain tolerance is high, thegesture alone is disturbing by its very nature and the insight it gives us tothe workings of the Zoldyck as a family does not paint them in a positivelight). Besides, with Illumi being the eldest, it is very possible his trainingwas even more severe due to being only child for a while and future head of thefamily, until Silva and Kikyo decided Killua would be the better option.

Just for a note, see the rest of the Zoldyck children as well… Alluka hasbeen caged almost all her life (and later she asked Killua if everyone elsewould be happier if she was dead basically), Milluki is just as focused in the familygoals and wants to please/impress his parents (he once seemed afraid of hisfather. Respect is something, fear is another), while appearing to almost neverleave the mansion. Kalluto shares a few similarities with Illumi and is also asadist that enjoys prolonging a fight just for his own amusement… While the Zoldycksclaim to love each other and maybe do/believe so, we cannot look at them andsay they aren’t toxic people (except Killua and Alluka, who got to break thecycle and escape) or that those children are examples of a healthy upbringing.

Does it all connect to the family’s “teachings”? Yes. And the fact theyare assassins doesn’t excuse any of this. If Togashi wanted, he could have madethe Zoldycks to be as dangerous as they are while having a far more stable/lovingrelationship between each other. There is a reason why this isn’t the case.

Illumi reached a point when being… Well, the way he is, is already hisnature and for what we can see, it is entirely connected to his family and whathe has been taught or rather, molded into being. I don’t even think thereis any hope for him. If you take away the “teachings” and “assassin business”,there is nothing left in Illumi. Whoever he was or whoever he could have beenis lost forever, there is only this walking, breathing result of years of training.And we all got a glimpse that he may not be as stable as we came to believe…

If Killua hadn’t been strongenough to break away from them, he might end up the same or even worse than his“big brother”.

So, if his family was different, then he would have been different. Forone, his displays of “affection” would not be tainted by the obsession withcontrol and his love for his siblings would be genuine. Somecharacteristics of his might remain (since we know nothing of how he was orcould have been), but he would be a far more stable person and even if he wasto become an assassin, he would have more morals. He surely wouldn’t be againstKillua choosing another path in life (hell, he might even want somethingbetter for his little brother) or having friends.

 Chrollo

For some reason, I always feel that Chrollo ends up standing somewherebetween the extremes that Hisoka and Illumi represent and the same applieshere, though it is more about how (little) we know of Chrollo’s life and evenhis ending goals. It is more than we know regarding Hisoka, but not as much as we know of Illumi. While writing this, I found myself oscillating between “yes”and “no”. Out of the three of them, Chrollo at times ends up being the hardestto analyze depending on the subject…

Is Chrollo a born sociopath who is using the unfairness of society as anexcuse to achieve his own personal goals and act upon his own bloodthirst orhas this unfairness pushed him into taking what he considers a necessary attitudedue to lack of any other option?

I think, in the end, there is something seriously wrong withChrollo. The things he has done are far too extreme… Perhaps he is even moretwisted than Hisoka or Illumi.

We know he started the Phantom Troupe but while we can guess the main reasonsfor that, we have yet to actually hear them and also what Chrollo hopesto ultimately achieve with his actions (due to his behavior, it seems improbablehe doesn’t have anything like that and is truly “just” a thief. In a way, itseems to be that this is a means towards a bigger end). We know he came fromMeteor City… And what has been shown of it is pretty depressing. That is not aplace that seems to offer chances of a good life, being basically a “junkyard city”and people there don’t even have official records of existence. It is a way ofsaying they there are also unwanted trash. So, we can assume that Chrollo’slife has not been easy.  

 And with everything we know of Chrollo directly connected to the Spider, it’shard to dissociate one from the other. What has turned him into what he istoday exactly?

Like Hisoka and Illumi, Chrollo has no care for human beings and evensaid he sees no difference between them and a puppet but does care for theother members of the Spider. And when returning home, the Troupe faced theChimera Ants, so the city is also the only other thing that matters for them ina personal level. Regardless of the sort of place that is, it is their home.Other than that, we don’t know of Chrollo’s story, parents or childhood.All we have are our own ideas and the options are many.

Honestly, just living in the Meteor City is not quite enough explanationfor his whole behavior, though: Many people go through harsh lives, awful situations,abuse or torture (be emotional, physical or mental) and do not end up like him. Hell, from what we’ve seen, Leorio came from a poorbackground, saw his friend die (when he could have been saved, just to twistthe knife) and is actually the opposite of Chrollo, someone who wants to save lives.

I’m not saying the misery of living in the Meteor City played nopart in who Chrollo is, let alone dismissing how horrible it must have been!Poverty is hell. Having to chose between buying food and paying the bills,being unable to afford medicine, those are hell enough, imagine how it musthave been in a city like that then! And sometimes, people get to the limit whenthey see no way out but to go to an extreme that they wouldn’t go otherwise.

 What I mean here is that, for what Chrollo has displayed, there may verywell be something more that made him turn into someone who torturesothers with such lack of empathy or remorse. For all we know, he may haveexperienced a traumatic event or loss, perhaps not very different from Leorio’s.

I think most, if not all of the situation, end up related to the creationof the Spider but I’m unsure of how much of it is connected to Chrollo’s personality. Even people from a loving, stable and healthy environment can end up twisted and this is not the parents’ (or anyone’s) fault. You can searchin the lives for the trigger that made them into sadistic killers and you won’tfind anything. Some people are just born psychopaths.

With Illumi and Hisoka is easier to be sure due to the motivations they display, their own desires and attitudes and the information we have onthem. Chrollo’s motivations are intertwined with the Spider, so much that he hasstated that it and what it represents are above his own life. This last detailmakes it hard to consider he is using the Spider as an excuse for hisown goals, but… What if he is lying and manipulating the others? It’s not easyto tell.

Now, personally speaking, I think we need more information about him asa person and of his life before the creation of the Spider to be completelysure… Would he have been better if the circumstances of his life weredifferent? It is very possible. Would he have been a criminal anyway, if onlywith some differences? Also possible.

When he talks about the Spider, I lean towards the first option… But thereare some moments, such as when Gon asked him how he could kill people who havenothing to do with him and how Senritsu reacted to his heartbeat that make meseriously lean towards the second one…

#headcanon #Personal Analysis #Adult Trio #family #Chrollo #Lucifer #Kuroro #Hisoka #Illumi #Illumi Zoldyck #I think they all need therapy #if things had been different Hisoka might have been the one to teach Gon and Killua for all we know

[forever-more-never-again]

Acies (A Request)

Requested: Anonymous

Word Count: 1729

Pairing: Platonic!Deadpool X Reader, Bucky X Reader

Warnings: Implied Sexual content, mentions of past abuse and torture.

Request: Hey babe! I saw that your requests are open and i wonder if i can request some bucky x reader. she has a sense of humor similar to deadpool and a bit of femme fatale and she's also a merc like him (they are partners and she's telepat) and one day she is called by the avengers to help them on a mission and she met bucky and he's head over heels for her immediately. you can decide the rest. I love your writing <3

Masterlist

Acies - Latin for Insight

a/n: Sorry for the wait and going so long without an update! Hopefully I can get through all the requests you guys sent in a while ago!

Laughing, your hair swaying in the wind as you repelled down the clock tower in London, Big Ben, you turned to look at the man clad in red next to you.

While you had a harness that secured your safety to solid ground, the Merc with a Mouth, Deadpool, had no such thing.

And after working with him for so many years, you had gotten over the initial fear and instinct to grab him and keep him safe, knowing that he would be fine after a few minutes of being a flat pancake on the ground.

His thoughts floated over to you, loud despite the rush of wind in your ears, ‘Do you think Vanessa would want to go to New York with us?’

The ground leapt up and met you, as you grunted and bent your knees to lessen the impact. 

Grabbing the, now flat and broken, assassin, you ran, weaving into alleys to try and hide from the British police that were after you for stealing the gold that had been hidden in a vault inside Big Ben.

‘It’s not nice to ignore people [Y/n].’ Wade sassed in your head.

Sighing and shaking your head at him, you finally made it to the apartment you were currently renting in the city outskirts.

“I wasn’t ignoring you Wade. I was trying to run from the police while lugging a meat suit with me. Anyways, your not going to New York. It’s just me.”

Wade whined. His broken arms clicking back into place so he could remove his red hood.

His...unique...face was seen for a moment before he fell face down on the couch in your living room. His voice was muffled as he talked to you, “But [Y/n]! I wanna mess with the Sparky man!”

You snorted, flitting around the kitchen as you grabbed hand towels and ran them under hot water, “I’ll let Stark know to expect you soon then. But this mission is time sensitive. That’s why they went for the more stable of the two of us.”

Throwing the wet towel towards the whining man, you used one yourself to wipe off the dirt and broken metal from your face and arms.

Clad in a similar suit to Deadpool’s, only not red, instead [Y/f/c], you and Wade had become a team after you had discovered that he had survived and proceeded to kill Francis, the man who had also promised you a cure for your terminal brain tumor and had proceeded to torture you in another base he had. Just as Wade had awaken some sort of Mutant gene after the abuse, you had as well. Using your telepathic and seduction abilities to escape the compound and hide from Francis’s cronies until you had heard of the man named Deadpool.

While you weren’t as mentally unstable as him, you were still not all mentally there.

After saving Vanessa from a vengeful enemy of Deadpool, he had taken a liking to you and let you become his partner. Vanessa eventually become a friend to you as well, and you spent many nights in the two’s apartment drinking and getting into trouble.

Now years later, after being a bridesmaid for his and Vanessa’s wedding, dealing with the X-men and an assortment of Assassins, you and Deadpool were close friends.

So when a missive from Charles Xavier had reached you, asking for you to go to New York to help the Avengers with a mission, you and Wade had argued over who would go.

Now, standing in front of the Avenger tower with your duffel bag thrown over your shoulder, you kinda wished you had let Wade and Vanessa come with you. 

Shaking away those thoughts, you steeled yourself. You were [Y/n], the one called Acies, by the media, and you were not scared of some so called superpowered beings.

Squaring your shoulders, you entered the tower and walked past the gaping receptionist into the open elevator as a man in a business suit walked out.

“Wait! You can’t just go-” The panicked receptionist’s voice abruptly shut off as the doors shut and the elevator took you up to the penthouse.

Smirking, you pulled down your mask, hiding your face completely. While you were expected, you wanted to have some fun before the serious mission talk began.

The upper floor of the tower was quiet. Staying close to the walls and shadows, you opened your mind to the thoughts around you.

‘Stacey sounded really scared.’

‘Wonder if it’s Acies.’

One thought in particular caught your attention and you zeroed in on it so that the person’s thoughts were crystal clear.

‘Why did Stark invite a crazy assassin? One associated to that lunatic. We don’t need another unstable person. Does Steve and Stark really think they can control The Winter Soldier and Acies if things go sideways on this mission?’

The Winter Soldier, also known as James Barnes, Previous War Commando under the leadership of Captain America, Turned Hydra assassin, turned Avenger.

His thoughts were a mix of self-deprecating and anger at the thought of an outsider on this mission.

Tracking the thoughts, you wound around a corner and found the man in question leaning casually against a counter, no outside indication to his inner thoughts.

“You know. Deadpool isn’t as crazy as some believe, and I can control myself thank you. But I could be persuaded to relinquish control to you given the right circumstances...like in a bedroom...” Your voice dropped into a purr as Bucky jumped and whirled around, his metal arm glinting under the lights as it was brought up in front of him.

“Acies?” Another voice cut through the tension.

Still in your casual stance, duffel bag dropping to the ground, you faced another tall man. Blonde.

Eh, you preferred brunettes. But this man was the definition of beefcake.

Steve Rogers, Captain America.

“Cap!” Straightening your posture, you saluted the man, inwardly laughing at his grimace and thoughts.

‘Why did I agree to this again?’

And then that damn velvety smooth voice once again filtered into your head, ‘Can’t see her face. Probably a good thing seeing as how ugly that Deadpool guy is from the same torture and stuff...but damn that body.’

Tilting your head, you grabbed the bottom of your mask and in one fluid motion ripped it off.

Both men stood gaping in front of you, but you kept your eyes on the Dark chocolate ones as his thoughts stuttered before resuming in a rush.

‘Oh...oh my god. This woman. I thought she would look like an expired Avocado but she is a literal goddess.’

You giggled, “Why thank you, you’re not so bad yourself Mister Prince looking Man.”

Bucky startled, as Steve laughed after a second.

“I forgot, your a Telepath!”

You grinned at Steve, “It’s literally in the name Acies. You know, when the government made everything bigger, they must of forgot the brain. But that’s okay,” Your eyes glinted as you looked down at Steve, ignoring his red face and Bucky’s look of jealousy, “There’s really only one thing that matters in size and I’m sure the men in government made sure it grew.”

Clapping hands and another body made its way into the room, “You’re just as vulgar as the media says. [Y/n].”

Flipping your hair over your shoulder, you shrugged, face going back into its stoic expression, “It’s a gift. So Sparky Man. What’s the mission that was so important that you had to call in the crazy friend of our resident merc with a mouth?”

Tony Stark was not fazed by the name calling, as he waved a hand and a hologram appeared before the four of you.

You leaned in closer and saw that it was a 3D landscape of a jungle.

“There is rumors of some members of the group that Francis, or otherwise known as Ajax, teaming up with Hydra and starting a base in this African Jungle. Several American citizens, high powered mutants, and people from Africa, have gone missing in the past months. 

A Body was found by a village chief the other week, a village girl from all the way on the other side of the continent, and she had been obviously tortured and experimented on before she died.”

Fury grew, cold and raging, in your belly and mind as a picture of a young girl appeared next to a photo from a morgue, the part of the body that was visible bringing up memories you had fought hard to forget.

“[Y/n]?” The velvet voice, spoken and not heard in your head, shook you from your dark thoughts.

Turning, you saw Bucky looking at you. Your mind went immediately to Pity. That he was pitying you. But a closer second look had you understanding. He was sympathing.

Here was a man who understood. Here was a man who had gone through something very similar and shared the feelings that this mission invoked. 

Taking a shaky breath, you smiled softly at the man, his eyes widening slightly before he smiled softly back at you.

You stifled the giggle his thoughts brought forth.

‘Her smile is gorgeous. Bright, like the sun.’

“Hey James.”

His name on your tongue felt right.

Ignoring the quizzical looks from Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, you turned your full attention to the Man whose thoughts were like a medical salve to your soul, “We can get through this, together. I may be a little unstable. And I understand that,” A dark laugh and your eyes went unfocused for a moment before returning to the present, “But we have a chance to save people from what we had to go through. And I for one, am not letting them get away. Are you with me?”

A dark smile. And his thoughts once again in your head, ‘I’ll always be with you. If you want me to.’

And your heart sang for the first time since you had escaped from that small lab in 

France. 

Maybe preventing Deadpool from coming to New York wasn’t as bad as you first thought.

After all. If he was here, he would probably make some-

“Hey everyone! Want some sriracha sauce for all that heat that Acies and Metal Boy over here are creating!? I also brought Chimichangas!”

God Dammit Wade.

FOREVER Taglist:

@sxph-t @mialeelavellan @rainydaysrnevergrey  @platonic-plots @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @ayyidkeither @queenbbarnes @mythixmagic @chas-z @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger @princess-evans-addict

Bucky Taglist:

@evyiione

Avengers Taglist:

@jadepc @marvel-is-a-mood

#Avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #Bucky Barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #deadpool #deadpool x reader #avengers tower #avengers fanfiction #reader insert #imagine #avenger imagines #imagine request #please give credit #please give feedback #rose writes

[feuilly-cakes]

The Maze Runner (series) - review

Buckle up, this is going to be a long one. My thoughts on the series as a whole is that it’s an alright one, and you’ll soon see why the praise isn’t higher there. I’ll go book by book with my thoughts on each, so you can know exactly the way my feelings progressed to this point.

Book 1: The Maze Runner - 5*

I gave this book a 5 star rating, but honestly it's been nearly 2 months since then and I'm still not sure on that rating. Ideally, 5 stars for me means I got so attached to the characters I cried or had some other emotion, but that didn't happen here. Instead, I got a fantastic plot with a ton of mystery and a lot of terror, all with amazing writing but uninteresting characters. I won't say they are flat characters, because they aren't, but I didn't really feel a connection with them. There is only so much you can relate to a character who has no history.

Thomas is obviously the main character and so we see everything from his perspective, and we do see his emotions, his personality, his struggle. He spends a good portion of the book confused, angry, sad, frustrated. He's not a flat, boring character by any means, but for some reason I just didn't feel that connection I usually do with main characters. Maybe it's a side effect of the third person limited narration, or maybe he just isn't a character I can relate to, but I wasn't really interested emotionally in his character. I didn't need to be really, because the plot more than made up for it.

When it comes to the plot, I found no faults. It was fast paced and had me asking questions the whole way through, and most of them even got answered. Most of the questions pertained to how the Maze worked; How was it so high up that the box rose for half an hour? What was really around The Cliff and how were they seeing stars below them? How did the walls move? Was it actually indoors or not and how would that even work anyway? I love when I’m constantly asking questions and coming up with theories while reading, and this book was one huge question mark. Just the memories plot alone had me on the edge of my seat, and I wanted to know more.

If you only read books for the characters and their personal arcs, this might be a bit weak on that for you. If you love a good mystery mixed in with a bit of horror and sci-fi elements, plus a dash of dystopia (which I’m sure will become a big dollop in the next book) then this is absolutely the best thing to read. It’s definitely a 5 star quality, just in my personal opinion not a 5 star emotion.

Book 2: The Scorch Trials - 3*

Honestly, this was not anywhere near as enjoyable as the first book. Technically speaking it was a well written book, but personally I didn’t find it great, simply okay - average. Enjoyable to an extent but irritating to a certain degree. I kept reading because I expected something to be answered but all I got was confused. After watching all the films and powering through the first book I genuinely expected so much more from this and I was let down.

It’s darker and more gory than the first book, with some shocking scenes that kept me going. I did appreciate all the dream flashbacks from Thomas that helped put together what exactly he had to do with the Maze. Outside of these dreams I just didn’t know what was going on half the time and I felt frustrated by it all. His backstory was legit the only reason I was interested at all. I didn’t really care where they were going or their journey, l just wanted to know about his missing memories.

I understand this one was to set up the world a bit more and go into character development, but this was the most mediocre of middle book syndrome books. I can honestly say here I preferred the film.

Book 3: The Death Cure - 4*

Oh boy with this one. I have a very immediate reaction with lots of spoilers here on my goodreads if anyone wants to see that, but I'll summarise with the good spoilery bits cut out.

Well, my brain hurts.

This book honestly started out kinda meh, with some interesting tidbits thrown in. Then it got less meh, but more disturbing. Whether all of it was really that bad or whether it was bad because of the real world parallels right now I do not know, but I got a little bit messed up by everything that happened in Denver. The worldbuilding became more relevant here, we learn more about the Flare, the way people are living alongside it and/or with it, and the way Cranks are really treated. We get to find out about The Purge too, which I'll leave as a lovely surprise for those of you who haven't yet read, but what happened and my loud opinions are through that goodreads link if you want entertainment.

And on that note, let's talk Teresa. Full disclosure, I went into this trilogy already loving the films, and I still stand by that love. The treatment of Teresa in those films, however, was abysmal, and to read her actual character arc, well, I was enraged. Her arc in these books is fantastic, and the way she grows and realises the consequences of her actions is actually realistic, especially after all the trauma of the trials. We barely even see her and yet we see most of her character arc in this book. Simply getting her memories back wouldn't make her forget all the horror and go back to Wicked, and the way it was all handled was super satisfying. It does all make me wonder if perhaps she knew about the Brain thing, though. I won't know until I read that prequel story so until then I'll just have to speculate [currently reading that, still don't know]. On a similar note the Chancellor Page storyline was bizarrely different, and I had a shock when we get to interact (?) with her in the capacity we did.

Chapter 56 can choke. I knew it was coming okay, yet it still made me feel like I was punched in the chest. Especially after the previous scenes where we see things happen with a certain character in a scary way.

I can't talk about the Brain thing. It's disturbing to think about and I will be repressing the memory of that whole section of the book as soon as I can. It also kicks off a series of horrifying imagery and tragic events that hurt my emotions. All I can really say is that it's a strong ending to a trilogy, and if you're here you probably got past the travesty that was The Scorch Trials so this book will be a breeze compared to that, just be wary of the medical horror and the horror in general, since it's pretty graphic.

You may notice I haven't discussed Thomas, and that is because I'm too messed up by the Brain thing. The medical horror plus his reaction to the knowledge of what was about to happen knocked me flat emotionally and I may never get past that in terms of these books. No one has ever mentioned the Brain thing in any fan space I've been in, and that's for a good reason. Just know Thomas grew on me slowly just in time to cause me great distress. That is all.

Book 4: The Kill Order - 4*

I kind of loved this book, but as a friend. It basically shows the story of the Flare virus' bad beginnings in the world, with flashbacks to the solar flares that caused all the initial devastation. It was one hell of a page turner. It read like it was just meant to be a film, if you know what I mean. It does stand alone if you don’t read the prologue.

I honestly wasn’t expecting to get quite so many tidbits of information about the actual Flares event itself; to be honest I was expecting this to be a typical zombie kind of story that starts after the beginning and ends before the end, but it actually starts at ground zero on day 1 of the Flare (outside of the control group that is). I thought it was horrifying and fascinating to see how quickly it mutates and the effects changes, and also how the characters react knowing that they’ve probably been exposed to it from the beginning. Seeing the inside of the mind of one the earliest Cranks as they become infected was amazingly interesting after seeing how Newt acted in the Death Cure when he got sick.

The flashbacks to the Solar Flares and its aftermath were just terrifying. The imagery was horrifying and the whole concept of sun flares and then massive floods of boiling hot water put me right on edge even though obviously they were alive at the start of the book. Something that massively surprised me as I read was that the Flare virus had only been around for 13 years before the start of The Maze Runner, and it only took the government 1 year after the solar flares to decide to kill off part of the population. No other dystopian I’ve read can top that level of evilness from governmental systems.

Aside from the horror aspect, I was also mightily confused and a bit amused-but-also-horrified at the cult. If you’ve read it you know. If you haven’t yet then you’ve got a storm coming let me tell you. Although we see in Death Cure that Cranks form mobs with a common purpose and of course they they lose their minds, I wasn’t at all expecting to see an actual cult just casually thrown in. It just adds to the madness of the story and actually fit right in among the other craziness of what went down.

My one question is: is DeeDee Teresa? (She was! It was implied in the next book.)

The reason I didn't rate this higher despite my enjoyment was that it just isn't a book I would reread. It's like an action film or horror film that you really enjoyed and appreciated but won't stick around for too long.

Book 5: The Fever Code: 3* on Goodreads, 2.5* in my heart

This one was a slog to get through. It goes over Thomas' life in Wicked, from the first few days to the day he goes into the maze. I didn't like it very much at all. My biggest problem was the torture of a 4 year old only a few pages in. It ruined the rest of the book for me. My second biggest problem is that we never learn Newt’s name. The betrayal of it all is astounding.

I’ve got to be honest, I was only pushing myself to read this because I wanted to know about the purge. It doesn’t happen until pretty late in the book and nearly everything before that is terribly boring. Everything after that happens pretty quickly.

I appreciated that we get added context to some things that happened in the main trilogy, however, some things that happen take away from the story in a bad way. Dr Paige is one example of this, where in the main trilogy she only appears in a positive context to save Thomas and the other immune, while in this she does some truly evil things behind the scenes unrelated to the context of the trials (or so she tells Thomas. We don’t know how much of that was truth and how much was intended as a Variable but either way it contradicts what we know of her in the Death Cure). The huge reveal at the ending regarding Teresa is also out of nowhere and seems contradictory to the main books. How much of her actions were planned and how much were real? Why would she lead the gladers to escape if she was as this book said she was? Was it a change of mind or was this particular aspect a retcon that wasn’t intended with the original books?

This one felt like an unnecessary addition to the series and I’m disappointed by how it turned out. I expected more and got less. If it hadn’t picked up in the last 150 pages this would’ve been a 2* simply for the disappointment that equalled that of The Scorch Trials. This may be a bit harsh but I do believe the books should have ended after The Kill Order, and the rest be left to the imagination.

To end on a semi-positive note: it turns out The Brain Thing was actually mentioned to them, but it's unclear if Teresa picked up on it, as we know Thomas didn't. It all came out at a very inopportune time while they were killing a crank who knew about it. The Brain Thing isn't positive at all, but I was very excited to learn if they had any inkling and that was sort of answered!

#the maze runner #james dashner #book review #book blogger #books and literature #a salty review

[mwolf0epsilon]

Could I ask for some fallout 4 companion + favorite NPCs headcanons you might have?

I did my top 5 favorite companions in alphabetical order + my top favorite NPC, hope you don't mind! The post would be a bit too long otherwise ^^'

---

[[MORE]]

--Codsworth--

Codsworth is (besides Curie, Edna and Whitechapel Charlie) the most self aware Mr.Handy in the Commonwealth. As a result he tends to be underestimated by people in general (since most Mr.Handies and Mr.Gutsies are stuck in their programming to such a degree that they're not really aware of their surroundings concerning a timeline). This causes Codsworth mild anxiety as he thinks he might be broken or perhaps even dangerous to the Sole Survivor if he "glitches any further". A loose cannon can't be trusted right?

The robot workbench, while useful for repairs and upgrades, gives Codsworth the "willies". He doesn't like the idea of being altered beyond what he was made to be. He has the same sort of dread when asked if he'd ever like to acquire a synth body like Curie. He was "born" a Mr Handy he'll remain one until the day he passes.

Codsworth regularly has tea with Sturges and Mama Murphy. Sometimes he manages to get the Sole Survivor, Preston and Curie to join him, but otherwise not many people give him the time of day to kick back and indulge in old pre-war habits. Unless he bakes some of his famous tarberry cobbler, then everyone flocks around him for a taste.

--Deacon--

Every single lie Deacon tells is based on truths. He has a way of weaving words that is impressive because he only really needs to sell something believable to his audience. What's more believable than a story with a few facts switched around? Deacon lies about lying.

Deacon has a terrible temper. One he couldn't exactly control when he was younger but that he'd learned to get a hold of as he grew older and tried to better himself. Barbara's death was the last time he lost control, and since then no one's really seen the extent of Deacon's fury. That person who let his anger get the better of him was scum and caused nothing but pain and death. He wants to help, not destroy.

Deacon has alluded to having lived a good part of his life underground (being quite fond of caves and feeling safe in them) before moving to University Point. While no one knows where exactly he came from, Maccready has suggested Capital Wastelands since he first met him there and he has helped concoct theories on Deacon's origins that vary from cave settlements, to Little Lamplight and even to a Vault. Whichever one it is, this is the cause for his attachment to his sunglasses. His eyes are incredibly sensitive to bright lights (They're also very convinient for his spy work so it's win win in any case!).

--Nick Valentine--

While he's not interested in pursuing a romantic relationship he does seem to be incredibly fascinated by romance novels. He doesn't admit this to anyone however and won't read anything out in public that isn't part of his mystery novel collection. He has a hidden stash of romance novels in a hidden compartment in his desk.

He watched Hancock growing up with his brother and always thought Guy to be a little too aggressive in his stance about the world around them. He hoped the boy would grow out of it but was quickly proven wrong when Mcdonough became Diamond City's mayor. He considered leaving with John and the ghouls before deciding he needed to stay to keep an eye out for the city. God only knew DC would need all the help it could get from then on out...

He has a missing persons case file for Preston which he keeps a secret. Preston's mother approached him after travelling all the way to DC to ask if he'd find her son who was 17 when he ran away. Ever since the Sole Survivor came along and introduced him to her odd group of misfits he's had to keep himself from telling Preston that his mother is worried sick about him. He hopes that when things settle down a bit and that the Minutemen are back into proper shape that he'll be able to tell the lieutenant and bring him to see his mother.

--Preston Garvey--

He was raised by his biological mother (a brahmin farmer) and the woman she later fell in love with and married (a nurse). He never met his father and his moms insisted he was killed by a raider. He later learned that while his mother was pregnant with him, she and his biological father were kidnapped by a group of raiders and that his father was then tortured mercilessly until his mind broke and he joined them. His mother escaped with her life only by pure luck and chance.

Preston's idolization of the Minutemen was always a consern for Mama Garvey, who was deathly afraid of losing her baby boy. When Preston turned 17 he ran away from home to join the militia against his mom's wishes. He hadn't exactly hit his growth spurt yet so his mothers were pretty scared that he might have died alone in the Wastes. After the Minutemen fell apart Mama Garvey went to Nick Valentine to ask for help searching for any signs that her son might still be alive.

He has a passion for learning new things, new skills, any tidbit of useful knowledge he can get his hands on. He's a bit like a Swiss army knife with all the things he's learned from traveling with the Minutemen and Sole Survivor, be it cook a mean brahmin steak, or mend ripped clothes, or even apply first aid when there aren't any stimpacks available, or even origami (although the latter is just for fun).

--X6-88--

After the Institute is destroyed X6 feels mildly conflicted but chooses to stick by his original instructions to follow the Sole Survivor's orders. This of course was an issue at first because he'd shadow Sole like a lost, albeit mildly terrifying, puppy. He's taken up guard duty after he was asked to stop acting like a bodyguard, since he didn't really know what to do with his time. Some of the braver/nicer companions (Nick, Preston, Curie and Codsworth) have tried to give him pointers, but it's actually some of the settlers who have helped him figure out how to somewhat "enjoy" his freedom (mainly Mama Murphy and Sturges who can tolerate his cynicism and disdain for the Commonwealth and it's people).

He's embarrassed by his Fancy Lads snack cakes cravings. As a synth courser he should be a top of the line model with zero attachment to material possessions and no need for indulging in the disgusting Commonwealth foods, be they pre-war or post-war. However since he's a Gen3 synth this is just a quirk he can't really shake off and he'd probably die of embarrassment if anyone found out his stash in his room.

He has a bit of a synth sense. He's not really aware of it, but he gets a strange feeling sort of like deja vu whenever he meets a runaway synth. The Railroad did a fantastic job with facial reconstructions and new identities, but X6 still has this weird feeling that he's seen them before. This feeling is a lot stronger around Sturges and he can't help feel a little put off by him. Not that anyone notices anyway...

--Sturges--

These two [x] [x] headcanons are pretty much my go to for Sturges's origins, but I'll elaborate further!

The original Sturges was born and raised in the Mojave and briefly moved to the Capital Wasteland with his father (after his mom passed away from an unknown illness). After Sturges Senior retired from the NCR the two moved to the Commonwealth to get away from all the chaos in the Capital Wastes. As a result of moving around a lot, Sturges Junior had a lot of contact with experienced mechanics and scientists. Already a bit of a genius himself, Sturges's knowledge was both a gift and a curse, as the Institute took an interest in him and abducted him as soon as they found a chance to do so. The synth copy that currently resides with Sanctuary's people is a bit of an oddity however... He was a prototype meant to spy on Sturges Senior and the settlement they lived in when they moved to the Commonwealth, but there were a few issues with his programming and Sturges actually forgot he was a synth and that he needed to report to a courser that would be sent to meet with him every month under the guise of trading for scrap. Sturges Senior caught on pretty quickly and dispatched the courser, but realized the synth copy was harmless and that if the Institute took his real son then he was already good as dead, so he feigned ignorance and kept Sturges unaware as well.

Sturges left to make a life of his own a few months after his replacement. He learned how to shoot thanks to his dad, but nothing could really prepare him for how ruthless the Wastes could really be. After he settled he swore off fighting as much as possible since he's not too fond of it. He'd still beat up anyone that threatened his friends, even if he had to do it with his bare fists. Those muscles aren't just for show and Sturges can give a mean punch.

Zeke, the leader of the Atom Cats, is Sturges's cousin from his father's side of the family. The two weren't very close when they were younger because Zeke tended to bully him a bit, but eventually the two grew out of their almost sibling-like rivalry and hung out a lot when Sturges moved to the Commonwealth. When the Atom Cats were formed, Sturges was the main mechanic before he decided to lend his services to Quincy. He liked the town so much that he decided to settle there, much to Zeke's displeasure. The two are in good terms and there's really no bad blood between them.

Sturges is as stubborn as a brahmin. This has proven to be both a great asset to Sanctuary and a terrible burden, as when ever Sturges gets it in his head that he can do something, he won't stop until he does it. Preston has had to drag him away from fruitless projects many times so that Sturges could eat, drink and sleep. Others have been less tactful, like Marcy spilling a bucket of purified water over his head because he had forgotten to bathe in a while, or Jun guilt-tripping him so he'd rest for once in his life, or even one time where the Sole Survivor "hired" Tinker Tom to help around the workshop so Sturges wouldn't have to worry too much about repairs progressing in Sanctuary Hills (Tinker Tom spouted conspiracy theories all day and Sturges now wonders if every mirror he sees isn't a two-way mirror somehow connected to the Institute).

Extra angsty headcanon:

The original Sturges ended up as one of the super mutant behemoths that the Sole Survivor can encounter in the Commonwealth. They wouldn't ever be able to tell considering the beast is nothing like the kind and amicable handyman they know.

#Fallout #Fallout 4 #Codsworth #Deacon #Nick Valentine #Preston Garvey #X6-88 #X6 #Sturges #Headcanons #Anon Friend

[timeisacephalopod]

Fic preview

Have an ABO fic preview where Steve, Bucky, and Nat’s origins are all the same as canon but everything else beyond that is full AU! Featuring winteriron, later.

*

Bucky sits with his head in his hands because he knows this is going to be a disaster. There’s… fuck sakes there’s so much he doesn’t even know where to start on explanations and if he’s going to do this his omega needs explanations. Like a lo of them. Not that he wanted an omega to begin with and this is absurd, just fucking bat shit crazy that this is a realsentence offered up by actual court of officials who genuinely think this is a proper solution to this case. He has no idea how or why anyone would think marriageis somehow going to solve his problems or even how that would work in a practical situation.

He senses more than sees or hears Steve sit next to him and he hears Steve sigh. “Bucky, I know this isn’t what you wanted but it’s the best case scenario,” he murmurs and they both know that’s bullshit.

“Steve, I have to basically pick a mail order omega out of a damn binderbecause I got court ordered to bond with one. I’m already bonded with one what the fuck do they think this’ll do?” he asks. Not that anyone considers his bond with Natasha much of one. Apparently it doesn’t count if its platonic in nature, familial even, which Bucky thinks is a fucking copout.

Steve sighs, “Bucky we both know they think it’ll make you less violent,” he says and Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Well no one read the numbers like I did. Most of those omegas end up dead or abused but sure, that’ll fucking work,” he snaps. He’d read on the subject in case he got stuck in this situation and he’s not violent, not naturally anyway, but he’d still been subject to charges over his crimes as the Winter Soldier. And this joke of a solution is what he’d been handed and he had a sneaking suspicion this is what he’d get. But if he were truly violent this is mostly a death sentence to the omegas who get stuck in these marriages and how the hell no one thought that maybe this is a bad policy choice he’s got no clue. But he’s not the one who makes sentencing laws or whatever the fuck led to this garbage.

“You wouldn’t do either of those things, Bucky,” Steve says softly like he has no idea what kind of fucked up shit he did as the Winter Soldier. And there’s no shortage of fucked up shit, he literally killed two presidents and that’s on the less messed up end of things. Not that anyone knows about the second one and he wasn’t about to say anything about it either. But JFK kind of became iconic so he couldn’t avoid that one.

He lets out a long sigh. “Does that really matter?” he asks. Because the omega he gets stuck with probably won’t care, he’s sure they’ll know this is usually a death sentence for them and its not like they can leave. They’re basically trapped in a reform marriage by law even though they’ve been pretty thoroughly proven to not work.

“Oh course it does!” Steve says, almost sounding offended and Bucky knows he’s pleased with this result. He doesn’t want to see Bucky suffer for crimes he had little control in committing given the circumstances but Bucky would rather see jail time than trap someone with him for the rest of their life. Bad enough that’s kind of what he did with Natasha. Not purposefully obviously, that’d been by design and neither of them had a choice in it but they did grow fond of each other. Or more like Natasha grew fond of him and she didn’t get stuck on ice. It helped, the cryo coupled with the electroshock, to wipe his memory but Natasha only got half of those things. Eventually the torture stopped working and she busted them both out, leaving a pretty bloody trail in her wake.

Frankly Bucky thinks its HYDRA and the Red Room’s fault for that. They took everything from Natasha but them, and they told her in no uncertain terms that she was to have zero connections to anyone. Bucky was a fluke, but their big mistake was contradicting themselves when they claimed she couldn’t have any connections but to remain loyal to them. Natasha is smart, she figured out that connections weren’t the problem HYDRA or the Red Room had, it was connections to people who weren’t them that they took issue with. And they had mistakenly assumed that Bucky counted as them. Stupid, considering he’d get snatches of memory if he was out too long and he never did follow protocol exactly. Something the defense used in their case against him and boy had Steve been impressed about that.

He’d fought hard, arguing that wasn’t really Bucky except it was. Sure it felt more like he was locked in his own head, watching someone else’s actions take place but it was him nonetheless. Which he out and out stated on the stand while Steve looked on in horror because this, the result that he got, was the sentence Steve was hoping for but Bucky wasn’t. And Bucky can’t help but bitterly think Steve’s selfish for it, for preferring to see someone else trapped in the prison of a marriage they don’t want than to see Bucky in jail or worse. He’s fine with paying for his crimes, he committed them. But that fucking set of videos Steve found of him being tortured swayed the jury hard. All of them were crying, even that big ass burly guy that quite looked like he wanted to fry Bucky’s ass for JFK in particular. Probably why he got a sympathy sentence.

“No it fucking doesn’t, Steve,” he says, shaking him off and walking away. He’s got twenty four hours to find someone and Bucky’s tempted, despite all Steve’s hard work, to fuck this over purposefully so at least someone in this situation gets to go free. He’s been in prison for far more of his life than not and he might hear horror stories about the American prison system but he doubts its worse than HYDRA.

#fic preview #abo au #fanfiction #alternate universe #winteriron #tony x bucky

[thorsstorms]

The Garden

Winter Soldier/James x Reader (soulmate AU)

She thought she had grown out of her night mares, until she has another years later, and she remembers it this time in vivid detail. The heartbreaking sounds of a man in pain. Her soulmate was not what she expected, but shared dreams means they are your soulmate, right? She was going to love him no matter what.

Warnings: Shit ton of angst and worry.

Word count: 5k

Marvel Masterlist

Dreamscape Masterlist

The Garden

She’s found a way to control it. Almost.

It was a way to sneak into her dreams and take control. She could not live in fear. Closing her eyes at night was supposed to be a relief, filled with a state of comfort. She was grown out of being scared, no more. Every night she focused on recognizing that it was a dream, not real life. And when she woke she immediately turned to her bedside table and flipped open a worn notebook where she wrote down everything she could remember, always checking for any changes, but there were not many, if any. Sometimes she did not dream of that darkness, it was just a regular dream. Those were written down as well.

The darkness is what she began to call that place. Because it was just that, dark. The looks were dark, the feel was dark, the sounds were dark. There was nothing for her to see yet. Her dreamscape was filled with the dark cell. She hated it and grew frustrated.

During her waking hours she was torn between investigating the darkness, or returning to her dreamscape oasis, her garden. She did what she wanted in her garden. She grew pretty flowers, ate her favorite fruits, freshly picked. She could dream up a beautiful pond, and if she wanted, a lake. Animals of her mind would appear out of curiosity. Daunting fresh blooms of a plethora of flowers. The growing, but maintained greenery of the place gave her comfort. She loved her garden. But she was too curious about the darkness to tend to it correctly sometimes. She would arrive in it, in her dreamscape, and the garden would be overgrown, not taken care of. It was a reflection of her real life. The dreams were taking over. She was not taking care of herself. It needed to come to an end.

There was more to this cell, she knew it. She can create what she wants, do what she wants in her garden. Why can she not do that here?

This was a dream, she is dreaming. Her hands, she stared at them, counting her fingers. There was a door in the wall. It was a door, meaning it leads to somewhere else. She recognizes the doors existence and she has to leave, determined to. She had to know what was going on out there. The screaming was too much. It was perpetual, never ending screams of agony.

What was going on? Who was screaming? Why are they screaming?

The door did not budge. Her dreamscape hands fudged with the handle, but it was unmoving. She stared at it in frustration. Eventually closing her eyes and focusing on it. She dreamt the door away, but was disappointed with the other side. It was almost the same. She appeared in the hallway. Dark, cold, filled with echoes that brought chills to her soft skin of her arms due to the clarity of the sounds of agony. She followed the noise. She was going to help this man. He seemed trapped. Trapped in his head, trapped in the torture.

Her feet carried her along, gaining speed but never feeling the burning pain of her muscles because after all, this was a dream. The hallways were winding, but she never felt as if she was closer to the sounds of pain. She wished it would end, so it did. She closed her eyes and focused on her dreamscape and where she wants to be. She wants to be taken to the source of the noise.

There he was.

The shock of the man flooded her body, eyes wandering over him. He seemed to be in pain, but she couldn’t see the source. He was sitting, leaned back in a black leather chair. His hands seemingly forced to the arms of it by an invisible chain. He was alone, screaming for help. His cries pierced her ears at the proximity. His forehead was prickling with sweat, his chest heaving with adrenalin. Why is he screaming?

His eyes were open, scanning the room around him, locking on an invisible figure, following it when it caught his eye line. There were imaginary people in his mind torturing him in his dreams, but she could not see anyone but him. Literally. It was only him, alone. But his eyes wandered ferociously, following invisible figures she could not see. He was pleading for a break.

”NO MORE!” His screams echoed off the walls, hurting her ears.

“Hey.”

“Hey! What are you looking at?”

“Stop screaming!” She yelled back at him, trying to get him to snap out of whatever trance he is placed in. Her words went ignored. He was so lost in his own mind, that he could not hear her trying to help him.

“Let me help you!” She tossed at him. All she wanted to do was to make him stop feeling this pain.

His eyes suddenly focused in a stark form of clarity. The shock was prevalent, quickly fading to curiosity, before masked by determination filled by fear. This girl should not be here. Why was this girl here.

Get her out! She is not safe.

His body lurched towards her, but the invisible chains kept him in place.

“Go!” He screamed, staring deep into her eyes.

She woke up clutching at her sheets, eyes flying open in shock, thankful she fell asleep with the lamp on. How could he do that to her? How was it possible that she can be kicked out of her own dream? Is that what happened or was she simply obeying his request? Did it scare her awake?

~

She was back, she made it. As long as he doesn’t wish her away she can stay. She has tried and tried and tried but the screaming man has dreamt her away to safety more times than she could count, but this time she was trying a different approach, trying to remain calm from his screaming and stand her ground.

“I’m gonna help you!” She screamed over his noises. And he stopped screaming, glaring at her. Someone was going to help him? She seemed shocked by his sudden act of calmness. Eyes wide. She had not thought this far, what now?

“What’s your name?” She asks him. She does not expect an answer. Does this man know words other than “go away”?

“James Buchanon Barnes,” he repeats mechanically.

“James focus on me. All I see is you. Don’t- just stay put please, I want to talk to you. Don’t wish me away.” His head moved in a sly, small nod of acceptance in response, breathing heavily and looking wildly at the turn of events in his nightmares. This was a nightmare.

“James,” she reached out her hand, making sure to say his name so he can hear her voice is real and as grounding as it could be in a dreamscape. “Listen to me. You are dreaming. This is a dream. Look at me.” His eyes rush to hers as she places her hands on his own and releases the clenched fists he makes. “Close your eyes and hold on to my hands, I am going to get us out of here. Don’t be scared, please.”

He focused, zeroing in on her warm hands setting on top of his own. He could feel her warmth, a smooth gentle touch. Gentle was something that was lost on him. He stared, expecting her hands to bring him pain, waiting for the switch to flip.

He did not close his eyes, he could not. The soldier never closes his eyes, not willingly. But she closed hers and James watched with a wary gaze. He was zeroed in on her. The feel of her. Her smell. 

It was familiar. She felt familiar and he could not place it. The surrounding place switched in a blink. James barely noticed from the focus on his… his… this girl.

But when he realised he was gone, he grew alert. He blew caution to the wind and felt the sense of protection he grew to bask in, flood over his shoulders, infiltrating his muscles until the girl was drawn safely behind him while he searched his surroundings for a threat, for exits, for possible weapons. 

Keep her safe.

“James, no.” Her voice surfaced in his focus. How long had she been pushing away from his grip on her arm? “Stop James! This is my garden. You are safe here.”

Safe?

“Know one can come here unless I want them to. I told you, James. You are dreaming. This is a dream.” Her sweet voice was so fresh to his ears. His grip loosened to nothing as he continued to take in their surroundings. Flinching towards her when she steps away to a small, mint colored rod iron table. The chairs around it had nice pink cushions on them. 

Pink. His favorite color.

He watched her sit while he stood at attention unmoving. A statue, that's what he was. Unmoving until it was asked of him.

She watched him with curiosity as she poured herself some hot coffee that she suddenly wanted. She’s made it this far, that deserves a reward.

“James?” Her voice was gentle, coaxing his attention to her. “Will you come sit with me?”

Her question went unanswered as he stared at her. This was a new place. Regardless, he did not like yes or no questions, they got him in trouble.

A light bulb went off in her head. “James. Come sit next to me.” And he followed. Orders, that is what he needed to respond.

His stiff shoulders barely touched the back of the chair. Her heart broke at his demeanor. What could break this man like this.

“James,” She called again now that he was sitting down. His eyes stared at hers, waiting for a command. They were lacking life, glazed over. The blue was striking as ever, making it hard for her to focus on what she wanted to say. “You are safe here. I want you to try to relax in my garden. Okay?” He left a nod to her words, but nothing changed.

Maybe another way to break through. “Would you like some coffee?” She asked him. He did not answer her yes or no question, but ice water appeared on the table in front of him out of thin air. He jumped in surprise at its sudden appearance. But she understood. He wanted water, so he got water.

“James, drink your water.” His hands obeyed, reaching for the glass and bringing it to his lips. It may be a dream, but regardless, he could feel the cold liquid satisfying him.

She pitied him. She really did. She did not like telling him what to do. He was allowed to do what he wanted in her garden, she decided.

“James, I don’t like giving you commands.”

She is upset. He straightened his eyes, clenched his jaw and braced for the pain. 

But it didn’t come. Instead he found her looking at him shoulders slumped in defeat. Figuring when someone is upset was not new to him. He could read body language, better than anyone.

“I want you to relax here. Create what you want and explore. This can be our garden.”

Her nights went like this for weeks. 

She had to find him and get him out of the darkness and bring him to her garden. She had to coax him, break his shell and find the man that is inside. It was always the same. She offers him a drink. He never knows what he wants, ice water, it always is. He must be dehydrated and that was all she could think about. The aching feeling in her chest when she knows she can’t do anything but be there for him like this. It starts to get somewhere though.

One sleep, her eyes opened in her dreamscape, except she wasn't in the darkness, for the first time in weeks, she awoke in her garden. And there James was, sitting in his chair at the table with a glass of water. A look of fear slightly came and went in his body language. 

James, you are safe here.  Her voice echoed in his mind. He was allowed to be in her garden.

He closed his eyes at one point. He never knows exactly when it happens, but he did and his mind brought him straight to her. She silently praised him and the fact that it meant he was not torturing himself, bound to a chair with phantoms torturing him. Trapped, unable to escape his own mind.

She was excited to see him there and she expressed it. She expressed every moment she enjoyed and was proud about because she could almost see the praise break his walls. It was a positive reaction, he grew to like them.

His chair would migrate closer to hers when he sits down. James likes the comfort that she radiated. It was warm and filled with a sort of sweetness he would never get enough of. He did not know how to ask for more.

There was matching minty blue bench next to the table. It was not there before but she did not question it. She automatically sat down and James followed suit without being asked. He watched her speak to him as if he was her best friend. He wasn't sure what she was talking about sometimes, but he absorbed every sentence anyway. Furrowed brows, a slightly too intense gaze when she talked of a ‘text’ she received. His confusion was evident but she did not make him feel bad about it. The facial features he produced were enough for her to offer an explanation without missing a beat in her story. He appreciated it, though he still did not fully grasp the concept.

She liked the attention James offered up to her. Granted the garden might be slightly boring without the other there, they were growing accustomed to the presence of the other. She felt her heart swell when coffee would be waiting for her, steam rolling off the top. He was thinking of her and made sure she had what she might want. She offered him the largest and sincere smile, watching his eyes widen and brighten in a sort of curiosity at her gratitude.

He still didn’t talk much, but he grew familiar with her. He started to investigate the garden. His shy steps were light, watching his footing as he explored off the path. He examined the colors. There were so many. He always seemed to gravitate towards the pink colored ones. No matter the type, the carnations were beautiful. Even a pink hydrangeas, and peonies. The roses, they should be pink, he thought.

“I like these,” he spoke simply, turning back towards her as she sat at the table enjoying her hot drink. His finger points to the pink peonies and the rumble of his voice reaches her ears. She perks up at the sound of his voice. His was such a sweet melody that she craved.

“I do too,” she states, admiring the comfort that he is exuding. He's speaking, that's all she could ask for. 

Pink was a pure, innocent color that had her name written all over it. He was keen to her pink lacquered nails and the perfect shade of her lips. 

Of course he notices. 

All he does is stare at her the entire time as he basks in the warmth and sweetness their dreamscape offers him. It was enough to taint his memories during his waking hours. He thought of her and it brought him to a different place in his mind. She was always on his mind though he never let it show.

Each day was another step for him. More words were spoken from his lips. They were always directed towards her. He asked questions as she spoke.

“What was it about?” His lips move slowly, brows furrowed in genuine curiosity of what could make her cry, even if she claims it was a good cry.

“This girl loses her memory after a car crash, and her husband has to make her re-fall in love with him.” She goes on. “Its very sad and very sweet. A perfect combination, really.” She remembers how she felt as she watched the movie again that evening, a solemn, content grin growing from her lips.

“I’ll show it to you one day,” she offers him. But he dismisses the comment, her heart dropping at the realization of her words and the effect they had on him. He didn't mean to ruin her mood and the sense of contentment she felt, but as it was, no one would be able to show him that. 

No one will find him. 

One day might never come, and he could not reply to her, he did not know how, so he did nothing but look away.

She held his attention and she would be lying if she said she did not like it. Sometimes it is not always work for her to get him to loosen up here in their garden. Sometimes, if he has a good day, he will offer up himself to loosen up. Though he did not have much to give her about himself as he did not know too much, he would start a game of eye-spy. Though he learned the game from her teaching him before he would speak, he could just point. He offered the games up himself.

“I spy something… yellow,” he looks away from her trying to fool her by switching his line of sight.

“Hmm, the flowers on my dress?” Her wit was shining in her expression, watching him yank his face back towards her in astonishment of how she guessed it so fast. He was showing more emotions, showing how shocked and impressed he was, though he never voiced it.

“That was easy James! You have turned all of the flowers in the garden pink! There are no more yellows. Even our snapdragons are pink.” She teased him, pinching his forearm as he sat next to her. His eyes were bright with adoration, maybe a flick of a grin showing, but it was gone too fast to be sure.

Sometimes it was in silence, comfortable silence. James grew to love this kind of silence. He could focus on her breathing, hear her heartbeat in her chest even though she was a few feet away from him. He was calm as long as she was only a few feet away from him. A book would tag along with her presence ‘The Vow’ written across the cover.

“This is the book, James.” She was eager to show him. They sat in soft grass, her legs crossed over each other while he layed back and stared straight at the sky. The silence was nice, but she decided to read the book to him. Her voice was a sweet melody that could drawn him to sleep but there were two things wrong with that. 

One, he was already sleeping and he knew it. 

And two, how could he want to sleep when her voice was ringing in his ears. 

The sound of her voice reading to him was beyond what he could have asked for. His days were filled with dread and pain, he knew no sound as good as this. She was good to him. She made him want to fight, to gain control of himself. The control he had over himself in their dreamscape was addicting. What would it be like awake, he thought.

She was always searching to comfort him on bad days. He would avoid being within a few feet of her, afraid a touch would harm her. She did not deserve any pain in her life. His days were secret. Only he knows the sheer amount of rage and violence that encases his life, she should never know.  

So she did what she could to get him out of his own thoughts and told him about her days awake, her new and first ever ‘big girl job’. It paid enough that she could move out on her own. He watched her smile in admiration. His lips twitching, wanting to smile as well, but he does not know how.

Instead, his sleeping world revolves around her. It grew to be his escape. His waking days blocked in his mind to nothingness, but these dreams, nothing could take this away from him. No beating, no mission, no wipe of his mind could rid him of her. And he basked in the revelation.

She was afraid to ask about his life, so she didn't. The fear of regressing back to the darkness had instilled fear in her. She did not want to cause him any regression. She was keeping track, almost two months since she has woken in her dreamscape to being in the dark cell, having to find him again. He was doing so good. So good that he even took it upon himself to make her promise to never go back there. the never search for him there.

“Always wait for me, here,” he told her, pointing to the bench. “I will find you, I will always find you.”

~

“Do you like cookies James?”

“Yes.” He replied, an eyebrow perking in interest. It was hard to get reactions out of him. But she did notice the differences. She kept track of them in her dream journal. Every night his shoulders were a bit less stiff. He explored the garden, adding small green frogs around the pond. She even found lovely pink roses blooming in full next to their table. When she asked him about the roses, he bowed his head almost is a visual of embarrassment. But he responded no matter what.

“They remind me of you.” His hand pushing back a lock of chestnut brown hair from his face. She stared in awe of his reply. The more he spoke the more she saw the blues of his eyes perk up and glow in color, giving life to his handsome face. He was so handsome, slowly showing more emotion. She kept track of what made him happy and how he showed happiness. She worked hard at it, slowly pushing him more and more until one evening, her breath was locked away seemingly permanently.

James smiled. 

It was small, but a peak of beautiful white teeth were shining between his pink lips. It brought youth to his look. He was a beautiful young man and she knew it. So beautiful. She wished to see it everyday.

“Walk with me, James,” he stood and she held out her hand. He stared at it, brows drawing forward. Maybe it was too soon to touch him, she thought to herself. But she was surprised again. He walked to her other side and extended his hand, where she could feel his warmth. It was an offering that she rejoiced inside with. He was reaching out to her, physically, at that.

The song of birds and frogs were the only sounds in the garden. It was peaceful.

“What is that? Are those- strawberries?” She pulled her eyes from the bright red fruit and popping green leaves to look at him. They were not hers, after all. He nodded staring at them with bright eyes.  

“Would you like one?” She asked him with a smile. He nodded again. She moved towards them but he didn’t let go of her hand. It was too comforting. Too… perfect. Like he belonged there. This was where he belonged. It had to be.

She stood back up, handing him three large strawberries. He does not remember what they taste like, not really sure why he thought of them in the first place. When his teeth sunk into it and the sweet nectar filled his taste buds a quick and unprepared small moan fell from his lips. Her face was heating up, most likely that same color as the fruit itself at his sounds of contempt. She wasn’t even sure he knew that he made such a noise, so engrossed in the new flavor hitting his taste buds.

She got him to laugh. Finally.

 All her progress was so worth it, to hear his sounds of joy. She just went on and on about how boring her job can be, sorting through something she called ‘emails’ all day. He did not exactly know what she was talking about, but she told her stories in such a fashion that it elicited a humorous response.

It was only a small giggle at first, if you could call it that. A chuckle maybe. His eyes went down cast as he laughed, crinkling in the corners all while simultaneously sending a jar of exploding hearts inside her. She was in too deep with him.

How could she do anything but stare in awe of the beautiful sound of his enjoyment. She did not stop her elaborating.

She woke that morning, writing ten whole pages of notes about her dream. Three alone were dedicated to James and his new found sense of joy and the fact that she was able to give it to him.

~

It was almost a year. James was talking to her. Not about himself though. Things in general were the topic. Asking about her, about her mother, how she was doing after she broke her hand.

Asking about her work. Her new shoes that she dreamt up to show him, they were not his style, but he nodded in appreciation. They matched her light personality. Anything that made her happy would make him happy.

He laid his head in her lap one day, closing his eyes as she told him of her new niece that had just been born. His hair splayed across her thigh, perfect for her to run her fingers through. 

She started slowly first, adjusting a few strands but he didn't react, only shifted ever more closely to her, as if encouraging her without words. The serenity he was displaying was heart wrenching. There was always that underlying factor of what lies outside and beyond their dreamscape and it was sometimes visible beyond his exterior.

His livelihood was what she craved when she went to bed every night, excited about what was to come. He was such a prominent figure in her life. He was hers, without a doubt. She did not care if she never got to meet him in person. She may wish that he was within reach, wherever he was, whatever he was doing, but she would keep what she could get.

~

He did not show up. 

He was not at the garden, but she waited. Drinking her coffee, eating his cookies and strawberries but he was not there. Before, he had made her promise to never go back to the darkness. Actually, he scared the promise into her. She did not want to go back, he promised he would always find his way to the garden.

He was back the next day though. He apologized.

“I am not in a good place. I am getting away. I can’t sleep much.” He did not offer her much information. She did not ask what that meant, but nodded in a sort of understanding. He laid his head atop her thigh as she read him another book. Offering him a kiss on the head before she could feel herself waking up. There was no time for his reaction, he was just going to have to live with the fact that she wants to kiss him.

He was gone again. For the first time in weeks, she was left alone in the garden.

She grew bored and began reorganizing plants and growing new things. She rearranged the table set and moved the pond to a different, better location, she thought. She could try to keep herself busy and leave the garden looking as good as ever but it never replaced the missing piece. She was reluctant to let the hole in her heart at his absence affect the luxury of the garden, but sometimes it did not work, leaving the popping and lively greenery to look merely average and run down. It was a reflection of them both, after all.

When he showed up a few nights later he joked about double checking to make sure he was in the right garden, but she did not find it so funny. A shallow laugh escaped her, not wanting to disappoint or damage his mood, so she continued on his journey of finding life again. 

That night they lay in the grass. He laid his head in her lap. It was sending a light headed wave through her when she could see him relax. When he showed her just how much he had grown in their time together. The garden was something special.

Her fingers ran through his locks. He was clean, he smelled good. He grew to always be clean in the garden. He was not always clean though. The first weeks she could tell he was not taken care of but James now knew he could dream whatever he wanted, and dreamt that he was clean. He was able to stroll into the beautiful lake whenever he wanted. James did whatever he could to grasp onto this warmth that was elicited throughout the dreamscape. He craved it. Such a stark difference in his waking life. How could God be so cruel to him?

~

Two months.

She sometimes cries in his absence, waking with tear stained cheeks for wondering where he could be and what was keeping him from her. It grew and grew until she settled in the mindset he was not coming back. He did not need her anymore. She was his source of happiness and he did not need her anymore. Which must mean that he was not lost in his life. She hoped he escaped the darkness of his dreams, wishing his life was not half as bad as what she had seen. 

But what did she know? He did not tell her anything, not that she would want to know. It could not be good, she knew that much.

She explored the depths of her dreamscape. She always made sure to check back in a garden, their garden. But he wasn't ever there. She was left with disappointment, trying to see the positive. The hole was left gaping in her chest. The maintenance of the garden was wavering and becoming something she didn't recognize. But she couldn't complain because… He escaped the darkness.

_______________________________________________________________________

- To dream of a garden filled with greens and flowers denotes great peace of mind and comfort.

- To dream of strawberries symbolizes pleasure and obtaining a long-wished-for object. To eat strawberries symbolized requited love. To deal with them implies happiness. 

- To dream of seeing flowers blooming in gardens symbolizes pleasure and gain. Withered and dead flowers portray disappointment and gloom. 

- To dream of frogs indicates that you will have a pleasant and even-tempered friend as your confidant and counselor.

#Bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #marvel masterlist #Bucky Barnes

[multiverseforger]

Leonard Snart was raised by an abusive father and took refuge with his grandfather, who worked in an ice truck. When his grandfather died, Snart grew tired of his father's abuse and set out to start a criminal career. Snart joined up with a group of small-time thieves and in planning out a robbery, each was issued a gun and a visor to protect their eyes against the flashes of gunfire. This visor design would later be adapted by Snart into his trademark costume. In recent years he has added a radio receiver to them which picks up the police band to monitor local law enforcement. Snart and the other thugs were captured by the Flash and imprisoned. Snart decided to go solo, but knew he had to do something about the local hero, the Flash.[4]

Snart read an article that theorized that the energy emissions of a cyclotron could interfere with the Flash's speed. He designed a weapon to harness that power and broke into a cyclotron lab, intending to use the device to charge up his experimental gun. As he was finishing his experiment, a security guard surprised Snart. Intending to use his gun only to scare the guard, he inadvertently pulled the trigger and discovered that his weapon had been altered in a way he had never imagined. The moisture in the air around the guard froze. Intrigued by this twist of fate, Snart donned a parka and the aforementioned visor and declared himself to be Captain Cold - the man who mastered absolute zero.[7]

Snart then committed a series of non-lethal crimes, on one occasion placing the city in suspended animation in an attempt to force Iris West to marry him as he had fallen in love with her when he saw her in the prison, but the Flash got through a wall of ice and was able to reverse the process. He later fell in love with a newscaster, and competed with Heat Wave (in his first appearance) over her in a crime spree, but they were both beaten by the Flash. But after Barry Allen's death, during the Crisis on Infinite Earths, Captain Cold became a bounty hunter with his sister Lisa, the Golden Glider.[4]

During the events of Underworld Unleashed, Captain Cold lost his soul to Neron but Wally West brought it back to the land of the living. He soon returned to crime, this time a member of Wally's Rogues Gallery. The Rogues had first been assembled when another Flash foe, the super-intelligent Gorilla Grodd had broken them out of jail to distract the Flash. The Golden Glider had abandoned her bounty hunter career and had started partnering with a series of thugs who she dressed in a costume, armed with a copy of Captain Cold's signature Cold Gun, and called Chillblaine. Already distraught over the death of her lover, the Top, it seemed that the supposed death of her brother pushed her over the edge. But the last Chillblaine was a little smarter and more vicious. He murdered the Golden Glider, prompting Captain Cold to hunt him down, torture him and kill him by freezing his outer layer of skin and then pushing him off a high rise building. Not long after that, Snart was framed by a new incarnation of Mister Element. He used his Element Gun to simulate Cold's gun, using ice and cold to murder several police officers before Captain Cold and the Flash discovered who was actually responsible. With the death of his sister, and having killed Chillblaine and Mr. Element in vengeance, Cold has again become an unrepentant criminal. However, during a confrontation with Brother Grimm, Cold actually worked with Wally West to defeat the powerful magic user, although this was mainly because he and Mirror Master had been betrayed by Grimm and wanted revenge.[4]

Captain Cold was declared the leader of the Flash's Rogues Gallery. His skill and experience have made him a strong leader to the likes of the Weather Wizard, the new Trickster, the new Mirror Master, and the new Captain Boomerang. Len seems to have taken the young Captain Boomerang under his wing, after the elder Boomerang was recently killed. Tabloids rumoured that Captain Cold's sister, the Golden Glider, was Boomerang's mother, making him Captain Cold's nephew. This turned out to be false, however, as the new Boomerang's mother has been revealed to be Meloni Thawne, who is also the mother of Bart Allen. Despite his more ruthless nature as of late, Captain Cold's heart is not completely frozen, evidenced by having sent flowers to honor Sue Dibny, murdered wife of the Elongated Man.[volume & issue needed]

Traditionally, Captain Cold is driven by three things: money, women, and the desire to beat Barry Allen. Although not the lecher that Captain Boomerang was, Len Snart has an eye for the ladies, particularly models. When Barry Allen died, Captain Cold drifted for a while, jumping back and forth over the lines of crime and justice. He was captured by the Manhunter and served time in the Suicide Squad, worked with his sister as a bounty hunter (Golden Snowball Recoveries), and, with his longtime friend and sometimes nemesis Heat Wave, encountered Fire and Ice of the Justice League. He has teamed up with various villains over the years other than the many Rogues. These include Catwoman and the Secret Society of Super Villains. His favorite baseball team is the Houston Astros.[volume & issue needed]

"One Year Later"Edit

In the 2006 "One Year Later" storyline, he and several other Rogues are approached by Inertia with a plan to kill the Flash (then Barry Allen). Though Inertia was defeated, Captain Cold, Weather Wizard, Heat Wave, Mirror Master and Abra Kadabra killed Bart with a combined barrage of their elemental weapons. He, Heat Wave, and Weather Wizard seemed to express guilt, however, after learning the identity of the Flash and how young he was.

Salvation RunEdit

Captain Cold is one of the exiled villains featured in the 2007-08 miniseries Salvation Run along with his fellow Rogues: Heat Wave, Weather Wizard, Mirror Master, and Abra Kadabra.

New RoguesEdit

The New Rogues version of Captain Cold is Chill, a unknown man who possesses a Cold Gun.

Final Crisis: Rogues' RevengeEdit

In the 2008 miniseries Final Crisis: Rogues' Revenge, Captain Cold and the Rogues briefly joined Libra's Secret Society of Super Villains. In Final Crisis: Rogues' Revenge story, however, Cold and the rest of the Rogues reject Libra's offer, wanting to stay out of the game. Before they can retire, they hear of Inertia escaping and decide to stick around long enough to get revenge for being used.[8] Cold and his group are challenged by a new set of Rogues, formed by Libra to be their replacements. The new group, having kidnapped Cold's father, challenge the Rogues, and are defeated and killed. Cold goes to his father, talking to him about the abuse he suffered, and the fate of his sister. After the elder Snart insults him and his mother, calling them weak, Cold punches him, but finds himself unable to kill him, instead getting Heat Wave to do it.[9] The Rogues have their confrontation with Inertia, despite interference by Zoom and Libra, and kill Inertia. Libra then reveals that he needs the Rogues because Barry Allen has returned from the dead, and the Flashes are potential threats to him and Darkseid. Though shocked by the news that Allen is alive, Cold still rejects his offer of membership. After regrouping, Cold and the other Rogues agree not to retire, claiming that the game is back on.[10] In "Final Crisis" #7, someone that looks like Captain Cold appears as a Justifier and is seen fighting the Female Furies alongside the other Justifiers under Lex Luthor's control.

The Flash: RebirthEdit

In the 2009 The Flash: Rebirth miniseries, Captain Cold is seen with the other Rogues, reading about Barry Allen's return and claiming that they would need more of the Rogues.[11] The Rogues are still debating Allen's return, with Cold saying it's time to pull out their contingency plan that Scudder came up with, stating "In case The Flash returns, break glass."[12]

"Blackest Night"Edit

In the 2009–2010 "Blackest Night" storyline, the Rogues realize that the bodies of various dead Rogues are missing and prepare to fight them. Captain Cold knows that his sister, the Golden Glider, is among the reanimated Black Lanterns but is still ready to lead the Rogues against the zombies.[13] He is confronted by the Black Lantern Glider, who attempts to use his feelings of love for her against him. However, Captain Cold manages to suppress these feelings long enough for him to fight back, freezing her within a block of ice.[14] He subsequently kills Owen Mercer by throwing him into a pit with his Black Lantern father when he learns that Owen has been feeding people to his father in the belief that consuming flesh will restore him to life, informing Owen that Rogues do not kill women and children.[15]

The Flash (Vol. 3)Edit

In The Flash (Vol. 3), Captain Cold and the Rogues visit Sam Scudder's old hideout and unveil a giant mirror with the words In Case of Flash: Break Glass written on it and release beings from a Mirror World upon breaking it.[16] However, Captain Cold is told by Mirror Master he had discovered that the giant mirror is actually a slow acting poison.[17]

The New 52Edit

In the timeline of the 2011 company-wide reboot of all its superhero titles, The New 52, Captain Cold is reintroduced as a younger man than in the previous timeline and now with his Rogues lives with a code to never kill. His origin remains the same, however, his sister Lisa has not been the Golden Glider, and is instead dying of cancer. Upon learning that the hospital does not have enough energy to power a laser that could save her life, because of an EMP seemingly caused by the Flash, Cold blames him for everything that has happened to him, including a falling out with the Rogues, and decides to break the rules of their "game" and kill the Flash. Captain Cold has undergone experiments that have given him ice-based metahuman powers, including the ability to slow down the molecules around him, creating a field of inertia that reduces the Flash's speed to human level, allowing Captain Cold to touch him and effortlessly beat him.[18] He and the Rogues are set to return,[19] but later defeated them with help from Flash, and the Pied Piper.[20]

After freeing the Trickster and attending the meeting at the Justice League Watchtower, the Rogues return to Central and Keystone City, only to see that both have been destroyed by Gorilla Grodd. Grodd returns to Central City during the eclipse, while a ceremony commemorating Flash between the humans and gorillas is occurring. Grodd proceeds to take control of Central City as its king and renames it Gorilla City. Captain Cold sees the city's cops tied up from Grodd, and proceeds to free them. He then asks Mirror Master to help him get to the hospital where his sister is being held in order to check on her. While there, the Crime Syndicate send Black Bison, Hyena, Multiplex, Plastique and Typhoon to finish Grodd's work and destroy the hospital. The Rogues are able to hold them off, only to be interrupted by Deathstorm and Power Ring, who were sent by Ultraman to deal with the Rogues for resisting the Crime Syndicate's offer to join them. After battling Deathstorm and Power Ring, Deathstorm attacks Captain Cold and is able to extract his freezing powers from his DNA. Mirror Master attempts to get the Rogues out through the Mirror World, but Power Ring destroys the mirror causing the Rogues to be separated. Captain Cold ends up at Luthor and his Kryptonian clone's location where they are also joined by Black Manta, who has retrieved Black Adam from the ocean.[21] Luthor realizes that, with the help of his clone, Black Adam, Black Manta, and Captain Cold, he may be able to stop the Crime Syndicate. Captain Cold and the rest of the squad, now joined by Batman, Catwoman, Sinestro and Deathstroke, infiltrate the fallen Watchtower, where Black Manta kills the Outsider and Cold proceeds to shatter Johnny Quick's right leg after having frozen the molecules in it with his cold gun. He then unmasks the hooded prisoner brought over from Earth-3, revealing it to be Alexander Luthor, who is their version of Shazam, Mazahs, who states he will kill them all.[22][volume & issue needed] After defeating the crime syndicate, Captain Cold is pardoned by the U.S government, and becomes a member of the Justice League, along with Luthor.

DC RebirthEdit

Snart and the Rogues first made a cameo appearance in the DC Rebirth's storylines; they are fleetingly watching a news report about the many newly created speedsters appearing throughout the city in The Flash #3. Snart quips that it is time for the Rogues to leave Central City for a while. Visually the Rogues still seem to be based upon their New 52 appearances in this cameo, though when Snart later appears in one of Flash's memory flashbacks he has resorted to an even older look. He and the other Rogues retain these costumes in their later appearances.

Snart and the Rogues make their first full-length appearance in The Flash #15, where they are attempting to steal a valuable golden statue of the god Mercury from the small island nation of Corto Maltese. The Flash arrives to stop them, but they turn out to be constructs of Mirror Master laid so that the Rogues can commit a crime spree in Central City. Captain Cold reveals what he had been working on in his absence from the city—a "black ice gun" that uses the anti-Speed Force weaponry of the terrorist group Black Hole combined with his regular freeze gun. After a fight, the Golden Glider had a chance to kill the Flash, but was talked out of it by her fellow Rogues. Despite this setback, Flash manages to finally beat Snart and the rest of the Rogues without killing them. By the end of The Flash #17, Snart appears to be ready to take over Iron Heights from the more neophyte villains, including Papercut.

In the Watchmen sequel Doomsday Clock, Captain Cold and his fellow Rogues are among the villains that attend the underground meeting held by Riddler that talks about the Superman Theory.[23]

[musicprincess655]

Atsushi is covered with dog hair, soaked to the bone, and his ribs ache from laughing.

His shifts with Kyouka do that to him. She’s not particularly funny, but something about trying to wrestle a wiggling dog through a bath sends Atsushi into fits of giggles, and the warmth in Kyouka’s eyes every time he laughs like that is enough for him to keep the habit.

“I’m home!” Atsushi calls as he enters the bunker. The doors are reasonably soundproof, but the bunker has started to feel like a home to Atsushi, and he’s used to announcing himself when walking into his home. Atsushi makes his way back to the shared bathroom, stripping his wet clothes off as he goes. It seems like no one is home, so a towel will do for a run back to the room.

When Atsushi steps out of the shower, he expects the hallway to be just as empty as it was when he went in. Dazai in the hallway makes him jump.

“Hello, Atsushi-kun!” Dazai waves. Atsushi takes in his position, squatting against the wall as if he were sitting in a chair. Atsushi doesn’t want to know. He, in fact, knows better than to ask.

“Dazai-san, what are you doing?” he asks. He’s still wrapped in just a towel. He’s exhausted.

“New suicide method,” Dazai says. “I read it in one of the books we stole a while back and I’ve been thinking about trying it out ever since.”

“Why are wall sits a suicide method?” Atsushi asks.

“Wall sits?”

“They used to make us do them at the orphanage when we broke the rules,” Atsushi says. Sometimes his thighs still burn from the memory. “They’re hard on your legs, but I don’t know how they would kill you.”

Dazai considers him for a moment, and then he pounds his fist in his hand.

“This wasn’t a suicide book!” he exclaims. “It was a torture book.”

Atsushi is exhausted.

“Why would you try to kill yourself now?” Atsushi asks. He grabs Dazai’s hand when Dazai reaches out and pulls him to his unsteady feet.

“Chuuya had some business on the other side of the West Block, and he’s most of my impulse control.”

“Please never explain your relationship to me.”

“Well, now that I’ve failed to kill myself yet again, can I get you some tea?” Dazai asks. “This place gets too quiet when everyone leaves.”

Atsushi is once again suddenly aware that he’s only wearing a towel.

“Let me get dressed first.”

When Atsushi steps into Dazai and Chuuya’s room with a quiet pardon the intrusion, now appropriately clothed, Dazai is doing his level best to burn everything to the ground.

“You don’t need the heat that high to make it boil!” Atsushi says, shooing Dazai away from the stove and instead turning the burner down to a reasonable level, one that isn’t threatening to lick the walls. “Is this another suicide thing?”

“Chuuya makes it look easy,” Dazai pouts. “He never lets me do anything. Except chop vegetables. With supervision.”

Atsushi has a new appreciation for Chuuya’s patience. He’ll never call Chuuya short-tempered again.

“You’re not much for cooking?” Atsushi asks.

“Never really learned,” Dazai says. “I didn’t have much of a reason to before I left No. 6, and once I was out here, there wasn’t much occasion.”

“I keep forgetting you grew up in No. 6,” Atsushi says. “And you knew Fukuzawa-san. What happened?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Dazai says. Atsushi waves his hand at the kettle. They’ve got time. “Well, as we’ve discussed, I had limited tolerance for my guardian. He was fine, I guess, but I was a rebellious teenager with parents that didn’t want me around. If I’m fair, I was a nightmare.”

Atsushi can see that. Dazai’s a bit of a nightmare now.

“So you used to hang around the detective agency?” Atsushi asks.

“Fukuzawa-sensei taught me the tricks of the trade,” Dazai says. “It was just him and Ranpo-san back then. They found Yosano right before I left.”

“You left?”

“Was taken. Semantics.” Dazai shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “Like I said, I was rebellious. My parents were No. 6 officials, really high up. They didn’t have much time for a kid, but they decided they should have one anyway. Something something do our duty something. Mori-san is a distant relative, so he looked after me. But as you can imagine, the perfect outlet for me was poking at No. 6’s secrets.”

“Oh no,” Atsushi says, because he suddenly understands very well what happened to Dazai.

“Oh yes,” Dazai says. “I have to admit, I’m surprised they were able to list me as a suicide victim. I figured they’d say I was executed for crimes against No. 6. Then again, maybe my history preceded me. If it had been suicide, it wouldn’t have been my first attempt.”

“Really?”

“Like I said. I wasn’t an easy kid.” Dazai sighs. “Anyway, they dragged me to the Correctional Facility, threw me in with Chuuya, gave my parents the chance to get me out, they refused to sacrifice their positions in No. 6 for me, Chuuya and I escaped, and the rest is history.”

Atsushi freezes, because there is so much to unpack there that he doesn’t even know where to start, much less the fact that he’s pretty sure the rest is not just history. It takes him through pouring hot water over teabags to decide where he wants to start.

“Why was Chuuya-san in there?” he asks. Dazai leans in, tea clutched between his hands, a conspiratorial look on his face.

“Chuuya was a science experiment,” Dazai says. “They were trying to figure out enhancements. I’m not sure what they were trying to do with him specifically, but what ended up happening was superhuman strength.”

“How superhuman?” Atsushi asks.

“I know you’ve seen him pick up things around here,” Dazai says. Atsushi nods. They’d been moving some furniture around in the room he shares with the Akutagawa siblings, and he’d gone to offer to help Chuuya lift a bookcase. Chuuya had done it on his own, easily, without looking like he was doing more than picking up a book. “That’s not even a fraction of his strength. He could probably punch down the wall around No. 6 if he set his mind to it.”

Dazai and Chuuya have quite the backstory. But they’re not the only ones here who do.

“Akutagawa and Gin, what happened to them?” Atsushi asks. He knows it has to have been something. Akutagawa showed up in a typhoon, shot and running from No. 6. Gin has burn scars on her back. Atsushi has seen her pull up her shirt to put ice on them on particularly bad days. He’s not sure how the two are connected.

“No. 6 killed their whole village,” Dazai says. “I don’t know why, and the two of them were too young to remember. All we know is, No. 6 went into their forest and burned it down, and as far as we know, those two are the only ones that survived.”

“And No. 6 hunted them down for it,” Atsushi says. Dazai nods.

“Gin managed to make it out of No. 6, and we found her,” he says. “Akutagawa wasn’t so lucky. They took him to the Correctional Facility for a few months for testing.”

“Just long enough to implant a tracking chip in him,” Atsushi says.

“We got that out as soon as we found him,” Dazai says. “And all’s well that ends well, as they say.”

“What could one village have that threatened No. 6 enough for them to burn it down?” Atsushi muses, more to himself than to Dazai.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Dazai says. “Why? The siblings were too young to remember much about the people they grew up with, and they spent years on the run before they were finally free. If they knew anything, they’ve forgotten it by now. So what was in that village that meant it had to be torched?”

“It was outside No. 6, right?” Atsushi asks.

“Far enough away that No. 6 still hasn’t expanded enough to take that land in,” Dazai confirms. “As far as the siblings remember, and as far as we can tell, the village never interacted with No. 6.”

“Maybe they weren’t a threat,” Atsushi says. “Maybe No. 6 wanted something they had.”

“An interesting theory, and one we can’t pursue,” Dazai says. “There’s no records to be found.”

That makes sense, even if Atsushi’s sense of curiosity keeps turning the new information over and over, looking for new connections.

“No wonder Akutagawa hates No. 6 so much,” he finally says. “No wonder he’s so angry.”

Understanding Akutagawa isn’t a comfortable feeling. Sympathy is even less so.

But with a story like that, it’s almost no wonder that Akutagawa sees the world as cruel, as a place where the right to live must be taken. Akutagawa has spent his whole life fighting for his survival, and it might be easier for him to see the world as a zero-sum game. Maybe admitting that what happened to him was horrific, was cruel and unusual, maybe that hurts worse than just thinking this is how the world must be.

“He’s actually gotten a little better about that temper since we found him,” Dazai says. “I really did think I was going to end up having to kill him in his sleep.”

“Isn’t that a little extreme?”

“He’s angry, and when his anger takes over his mind, he gets reckless,” Dazai says. “That makes him dangerous. He was a threat to us all. That was what I thought then, and it’s what I thought until recently.”

“What happened recently?”

“Well, you, first of all.” Atsushi must be making one hell of a face, because Dazai laughs. “You didn’t inspire some change of heart in him, that’s not what I meant. Akutagawa…well, he has his shortcomings, but he’s got a good brain in that head of his. His kneejerk emotional reaction might be violence, but if he can override that, he’s good at thinking on his feet, and he’s good at a support role.”

“And I make him override that emotional response?” Atsushi is pretty sure he causes that response half the time.

“Akutagawa is someone who needs an emergency brake,” Dazai says. “Gin works a little bit, but she’s nearly as angry as him. And Chuuya enables them both, but they probably need someone like him. I can admit Chuuya is better at dealing with Akutagawa than I’ve ever been.”

“An emergency brake?” Atsushi asks.

“You make him think twice,” Dazai says. “Especially since you can take point enough for him to step back and think, but also because you challenge him. And that deal you two made? If killing as an option is taken off the table, he really does have to use his head. It was a stroke of brilliance. I never would have taken you for such a manipulative person, Atsushi-kun.”

“Isn’t that a little bit of the pot calling the kettle black?” Atsushi asks. Dazai is the last person he wants calling him manipulative.

“The pot happens to be right,” Dazai says. “I’m not trying to insult you. I’m trying to say the two of you are good for each other when you’re not trying to kill each other. Maybe even when you are. It’s good to have someone who challenges you, right?”

“I guess,” Atsushi says.

That sympathy for Akutagawa squeezes in his chest again. Even though the boy Akutagawa used to be is long gone, Atsushi still remembers the vulnerable look in those too-big eyes all those years ago. There was a time they could look at each other without fighting, and Atsushi is old enough to recognize that most of the fights they’ve had in the last month are fights he’s picked. Akutagawa largely leaves him alone, and it’s getting harder and harder for Atsushi to convince himself he still hates Akutagawa.

It’s very nearly like they’re friends, although Atsushi has never had a friendship like this.

“Oi, Dazai, what trouble did you get in while I was gone?” Chuuya is back, throwing the heavy door open easily. “Oh, Nakajima. What are you doing here?”

“We’re having tea,” Dazai says, holding up his mug to demonstrate. Chuuya turns to Atsushi.

“Did he try to burn the place down again?” he asks.

“I took over the kettle,” Atsushi says diplomatically. He respects Dazai, but not enough to save him from whatever wrath Chuuya has for him.

“Good man,” Chuuya says. “Clear out so I can kick my shitty husband’s ass.”

“You’re abusive,” Dazai whines. “I didn’t even get in any trouble today.”

“Likely story. Get over here.”

“No!”

Atsushi ducks out. He’s almost certain that was foreplay, somehow. He really never wants either of them to explain their relationship to him.

“Oi, Jinko.”

Atsushi might still be caught up in his conversation with Dazai, but rather than the automatic response he usually has to Akutagawa, this time, he actually stops to listen.

Akutagawa throws a piece of paper at him.

“Your dad says he’s glad you’re alive,” Akutagawa says. Atsushi unfurls the paper with shaking hands to see familiar handwriting.

“You told Fukuzawa-san I’m here?” he asks, voice gone high and breathy.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Akutagawa scoffs. “I wanted his help with something. That’s all.”

Atsushi lets that go, because this is a kindness from Akutagawa, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to keep up their dynamic when Akutagawa can be kind, when Akutagawa inspires sympathy, when Akutagawa is human.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Akutagawa turns, and Atsushi swears his cheeks have flushed a little from the acknowledgement. “Do you think Gin will make stew tonight if we ask?”

Atsushi follows Akutagawa inside, already preparing to help him wear Gin down by asking.

#shin soukoku #sskk #akuatsu #atsuaku #soukoku #skk #bungou stray dogs #bsd #my writing #no. 6 au #systasis