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jtargaryen18 · 1 year

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His Inheritance ~ Chapter 28

Part 28: Fatal Trespasses

Series Masterlist

Words: 6.7k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mob crime families, strong language, physical violence, character death. This is a dark fic.��Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clint paused to see Belova’s number on his phone, especially since Steve tossed her out. He understood why his boss did it, he just didn’t entirely agree with it. Belova was young, but she had a lot of potential. She was strong and loyal. Clint had no reason not to trust her.

That, more than anything, had him answering the call.

“Belova?”

“I’ve got a location on Banner,” she said.

That got his interest. “Where?”

Belova gave him the address, an apartment over a dive bar on Stark’s turf. He knew the place.

Neal’s words about Belova falling into enemy hands crossed his mind.

“How do I know you’re not walking me into a trap?” he had to ask.

“I may not be working for the Rogers family at the moment,” she said. “But I still serve Mrs. Rogers. She would want me to relay this information.”

“Yeah, she would,” Clint said. Mrs. Rogers trusted her and considering how she’d supported him and Nat, well, that meant something to him.

“There’s more on Banner,” she went on quickly. “It will be sent to you from an unknown number when this call ends. I hope you’ll find it helpful.”

Clint did too. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too,” she said, ending the call.

Sure enough, the text came through a few seconds later. The attachment didn’t have much to offer about Bruce Banner. But his Senator brother? Clint had to read over it again to make sure he read it correctly. If what he was reading got out, the scandal would ruin the entire Banner family.

How the hell did Belova pull it off?

He and Scott were supposed to carry out their part of the boss’s plan tonight, around midnight. Clint had almost six hours to kill before getting ready for that. Did he trust Belova? Would he find Banner if he went to that address?

Anger for every bruise, every cut on Nat’s body rushed to the surface as he considered the intel he’d just been given. His Nat would need weeks to physically heal from the beating she’d taken at the hands of her husband. The fear she’d experienced in the trap of her marriage would take a lot longer to recover from if she ever did.

Guilt clawed at him from the inside, like an old, wounded beast. He could have put a stop to it. He could have taken her and run. He would have betrayed his loyalty to her brother, his boss. But maybe they’d be somewhere safe right now. Maybe she wouldn’t have terrible nightmares and shadows behind her eyes.

Maybe Steve would have killed them.

No, Clint told her over and over that he loved her. That one day, maybe Steve would change his mind and they could be together as they were always meant to be. And that day finally came. Neither of them dared to ask for more. Steve allowing them to be together was more than they could have hoped for.

But Nat had taken a severe beating to get them to that point. And Steve still wouldn’t have gone to check on her if hadn’t been for his wife’s insistence. Not with everything going on all around them.

He would have given anything to take that beating for Nat. He’d felt so helpless that day when they found her like that in her husband’s house, broken and small. Yet again, Clint had been forced to contain the rage he hadn’t been allowed to express or act on. It had been one of the hardest things he’d done in his whole damn life. And he’d been recovering from getting shot on top of it.

But now, just maybe Belova had given him something he desperately wanted – a chance at some payback.

Steve? Well, Steve warned Banner that he needed to disappear. That the man only made it as far as Stark territory was surely not what the boss had in mind.

Banner never paid any attention to the soldiers outside his house. He took them for granted. Setting up a diversion for the armed guards staying with Banner was just too easy. Within an hour, Clint had Banner delivered to the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. They often used it for such special occasions.

Slumped in the wooden chair with his hands bound in front of him and a sack over his head, Banner just sat, waiting. Clint would have had him tied to that chair but his arms, shown off by the dirty white t-shirt he wore, showed layers of bruises. They looked as bad as those on the woman he loved.

Clint smiled. It was the least of what the fucker deserved.

When the sack was pulled from his head, Banner’s gaze wildly scanned the room. When he spotted Clint, outrage blended with fear to find himself at the mercy of his wife’s lover.

“What the fuck is this?” Banner asked. His lower lip was cut, a dark ugly scab at its center. One of his eyes was blackened. “Steve and I had a deal.”

“Sure you did,” Clint told him. “You either disappear or you would disappear. But holing up on Stark turf? That’s not really disappearing, is it?”

“And you’re doing this to prove what?” Banner asked, eyeing him warily.

“Got nothing to prove,” Clint told him, taking a step closer.

Banner’s dark eyes hardened in anger. “Don’t you?”

Clint watched the anger that Nat described so many times about darken his face. Banner always seemed so calm, collected whenever Clint observed him during business transactions for the family.

When the two men crossed paths, the anger Clint held in check was always close to the surface. Banner was married to the woman he loved, and the man’s entitlement and contempt made Clint sick inside, like poison. Banner had Steve fooled, painting Nat as pampered but unstable and dramatic. Banner had to know Nat was with him every opportunity they had – and there were precious few times. Bitterness that he could never make Nat love him drove Banner to abuse her, verbally and mentally.

That was bad enough. When Nat learned she was pregnant, Clint came so close to getting her to run away with him. She thought about it. One tearful night, she told him she would. That was the night of the horrible fight Banner had with Nat. The one where Nat was left broken at the foot of the stairs.

She lost the baby. His baby, not Banner’s. That loss haunted her, and she blamed herself. For him, that loss was a wound that never healed, a hole in his heart.

Clint waited, not willing to let the lawyer draw him into a debate. It wasn’t easy.

After a moment, Banner chuckled, shaking his head though Clint could tell the effort physically hurt him.

“Steve’s got his sister back home now,” Banner taunted him. “He’ll even let you take care of her like the good dog you are. But he’s never going to give her to you. Not even now. Not while he can marry her off to benefit the family. You are stupid if you believe that.”

Clint had to give the bastard credit. He always knew the worst thing to hit someone with, how to strike at their deepest fears. He was a fucking lawyer. He’d been doing it to Nat their entire marriage. On nights when Clint was out there in the night, waiting to do Steve’s bidding, he’d reflect on the stories she told him. On the cutting things her husband would say to her.

Clint shrugged. He wasn’t about to play the game.

“Sounds like he already has someone in mind,” Clint lied casually. “Yeah, she needs to heal up. She looks worse than you do. But once she’s on the mend, I imagine Steve will marry her off again.”

The smirk on the other man’s mouth faded. Banner hadn’t expected him to say that.

“What?” was all Banner could say.

Clint folded his arms across his chest, standing over the bastard. “Steve can’t have Nat in his house for long. Not with his own little wife. It’s not an ideal situation. I’m sure you understand.”

Banner’s snort was an ugly sound. “Steve can’t handle his wife. If he knew how to deal with her, we wouldn’t be here, now would we?”

“Sounds like you’re blaming all this on Mrs. Rogers,” Clint pointed out.

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Banner demanded. “Steve doesn’t usually make time to do welfare checks on his sister. He could handle women just like I handled his sister. Until he married her. I showed up at his house and that little bitch met me at the door. I knew it was her that sent him to my house. She wasn’t even trying to hide it.”

“Then you get why Steve can’t let Nat linger.” Clint tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, to sound like he didn’t care.

Banner’s mind looked to be going a mile a minute. Anger flashed in those dark eyes as he studied Clint hard.

“I hope she gets what she deserves,” Banner’s tone took on a hint of bitterness. “Honestly, Nat played you and me both. She didn’t love either one of us… Ungrateful bitch.”

Clint’s fist flew before his mind could override it, striking Banner’s unbruised eye. Banner somehow managed to stay in the chair, a grin on his face when he returned his gaze to his rival.

“I knew you were full of shit,” Banner called him out.

“I’m full of shit?” Clint demanded. “I’m not the one that’s cast out, am I?”

“I served Steve well,” Banner shot back. “He couldn’t have had a better consigliere and he made a mistake. A huge mistake.”

Clint didn’t like the way he said that with a sly grin playing along his split lip.

“Now he’s got another consigliere,” Clint pointed out. “He’ll be fine.”

Banner dropped his head, shaking it in frustration. What was he not saying? That Banner was still bitter about how his marriage ended? That was obvious. But somehow, he didn’t think that Nat was the sole issue here. Why had Banner still stayed close by?

“Something else you wanted to say?” Clint asked meaningfully.

It pissed him off that Banner was now trying to ignore him. It had always pissed him off that Banner considered himself better than Clint. But that was nothing compared to how he’d treated Nat, the woman he knew Clint would die for.

Anger rose as Clint grabbed a fistful of Banner’s hair and yanked his head back sharply, making the man look at him. And Banner did look him in the eye, pure defiance flashing in those cold depths. But he wasn’t saying anything.

With his left fist, he punched Banner in the nose. The second time he felt the cartilage give beneath his knuckles. Blood gushed from the man’s nose, but he stoically kept silent. Clint struck his chin, his injured eye. Banner muffled his cries of pain, fighting to be silent.

The glee Clint expected to feel at such a moment just wasn’t there. Banner wasn’t begging him for mercy. He wasn’t cowering as Clint imagined he would. That meant the fucker had some hope he was hanging onto. He thought about Banner’s senator brother.

“Counting on your brother to save you?” Clint asked, smirking. “I wouldn’t count on that.”

Clint released his hair. Banner held Clint’s gaze. “Yeah?”

The bastard didn’t look concerned. Yet.

“Yeah,” Clint said. “He’s going to go through some things.”

Banner looked only mildly concerned. “Is he?”

Pissed off, Clint leaned down to get in his face. “You’re not worried about that girl that died on your brother’s boat last summer?”

Banner rolled his eyes. “Why should I be?”

“Someone out there knows her death wasn’t an accident,” Clint informed him. “And they have proof.”

Of all the things he expected the fucker to do, laughing wasn’t one of them. It irked Clint so fucking much, he reared back and punched Banner again, the blow knocking him off the chair. Banner was still laughing.

Trying not to let frustration best him, Clint turned back to one of the two men he brought with him, silently watching from behind him. “Give me those pliers.”

Clint didn’t take his eyes off Banner, gripping the metal tool once it was placed in his hand. The man trying pull himself off the floor with his hands bound before him did look less amused. His dark eyes were on the pliers Clint held.

Wait. Banner wasn’t worried at all about his brother’s scandal, the only reason Steven didn’t make him dead for what he did to Nat. But he was worried about the pliers.

“Put his ass back in the chair,” Clint told his men. He watched as they rushed over to Banner and none-too-gently hauled him back into the chair. “Tape him to it.”

That had Banner’s attention. Wildly, he watched as one of his guys pulled a thick roll of duct tape from his pocket. Pulling up a strip, it made a loud familiar sound.

“Wait,” Banner was worried now. “What are we doing here?” They started taping him to the chair and Banner was shouting “hey!” and “stop!”

It occurred to Clint that Banner wasn’t worried about his brother’s potential scandal. That was in the future. He was worried about having his teeth pulled out of his mouth one by one in the next few minutes. The time frame…

“What did you do, Banner?” Clint moved closer once his guys finished taping him to the chair. “What’s coming?”

Banner was silent. Now he was scared. Holy fuck. What was going on?

“Hold his head,” Clint ordered.

Banner shouted “No-no-no-no-no-no-no!” Smart enough to know what was going to happen.

Grabbing Banner’s upper lip, he pulled it painfully back from the man’s teeth.

“You know something,” Clint told him. “For every minute you don’t tell me, I’m pulling out one of these pearly whites. Got it?”

Banner didn’t immediately speak. Clint took the pliers, using them to grip one of Banner’s upper front teeth. Thrashing in the chair, Banner grew more desperate by the second, drooling and yelling “no!” at turns while Clint’s men held him steady.

“What’s coming?” Clint asked.

“I d-don’t know,” Banner managed around the tool and with Clint holding his lip. “Don’t!”

Clint pulled the tooth out with a quick yank while Banner screamed, thrashing in the hold of his men. Blood flowed from the hole where his tooth had been, from his nose, and his eyes were wide when Clint tossed the tooth casually away.

“Let’s try this again,” Clint said calmly, fear of what he didn’t know battling with the satisfaction of torturing the miserable fuck.

Clint aimed for the other front tooth when Banner cried, “Wait!”

He paused, but he didn’t move the pliers. Banner appeared desperate.

“Barnes knows!” Banner yelled.

Those two words had Clint taking a step back, taking the pliers with him. “Barnes knows what?”

Clint was all too afraid he knew the answer to that.

“Everything!” Banner cried. “You pulled my fucking tooth out!”

At Clint’s nod, his men stepped back. He got in Banner’s face again.

“What do you mean everything?” Clint wanted to know. “You been a rat all along, Banner? Is that it?”

“Hey, I’m not the rat,” Banner told him, blood filling his mouth.

“Then how do you know anything about Barnes?” Clint didn’t like this. Was something going to happen tonight? Had someone told Barnes all about their plan. This is bad. “If you’re not the rat, who is?”

Banner was shaking his head, blood running down his face, staining his clothes. Forcefully, he spat out blood.

“They’ll kill me,” Banner told him, worry flooding the man’s expression.

Clint had to laugh at that.

“What do you think I’m going to do?” Clint demanded. “You were just handed the woman I love, and I had to watch that shit, all these years. I got to watch while you betrayed her, laid hands on her.”

“Betrayed her?” Banner yelled. “She betrayed me! She never gave me a chance. I was her husband. I would have done anything for her. And she didn’t care. She was off fucking you every chance she got. Faithless bitch!”

“I will pull every goddamn tooth out of your head if you say another fucking word about her,” Clint promised, waving the pliers in front of his face. “What does Barnes know and how does he know it?”

“I wasn’t involved with any of it… until Steve broke off from Katerina,” Banner said after a moment.

And that was before Steve got married.

“Paulina’s sister, right? The one you’ve been fucking?” Clint asked.

Banner spit at Clint in anger, the bloody lob barely grazing Clint’s shoe. “I wouldn’t have fucked anyone else if I have a loyal, loving wife.”

“What did I say?” Clint’s grip tightened on the tool in his hand. “And?”

“After Steve cut her off, Kat took up with Barnes,” Banner explained.

Clint was already shaking his head. “Kat wouldn’t have known anything,” Clint told him. “Steve wouldn’t do that.”

“But I did,” Banner admitted. “One night I got to Paulina’s place and Kat dropped by. Barnes was with her.”

Holy shit.

“Barnes wasn’t trying to get me to rat anyone out,” Banner explained slowly. “But he made me an offer.”

Clint was sure he did. “What offer?”

“Barnes told me he was looking for a new consigliere,” Banner said, defiance shining in his dark eyes. “Everybody knows Petruzello is going to retire soon. Hell, he’s been with them for decades… Barnes told me he could use a guy like me. He saw me for my talent. Saw how I was being treated over here.”

“How you were treated?” Clint’s voice rose. “Are you fucking kidding me? What were you fucking lacking? You had Nat and she’s all I want in this world. You had a beautiful fucking house, nice cars, nice whore. Lot of money. Explain it to me.”

“You know what else I had?” Banner grumbled. “I had competition. And no matter how many fucking times I begged Steve to get rid of your sorry ass, he refused.”

“But Barnes was willing to, right? Is that why I got shot?” Clint shook his head, barely holding his rage down. “You must have been so fucking disappointed that I lived.”

“I was.” Banner’s glare stayed on him.

“So then what? In your anger, you beat the shit out of Nat? Is that it? You took it out on her?” Oh, something Clint said had angry color flooding Banner’s face. “Am I wrong?”

“I wouldn’t have laid a hand on my wife,” Banner said indignantly. “Not without good reason.”

“There is no good reason to hit a woman,” Clint shot back. “Never… It also wasn’t the first time.”

“How would you have felt?” Banner yelled, struggling with the tape holding him in the chair. “It was bad enough that she cheated on me with you. She never got fucking over you. Then she turns up pregnant… I completely lost it.”

The back of Clint’s hand flew, sending Banner’s head spinning. But he wasn’t backing down. With an angry glare, Banner said, “You think you would have done better? If it had been my baby, you wouldn’t have done the same?”

It took everything in him not to just shoot the bastard. Banner knew Nat was pregnant and he knew it wasn’t his. Rage clouded his mind but as he blew out an exhale, Clint tried to focus. The pregnancy had been the reason he’d beaten his wife the first time.

Why did he do it the second time?

“Did you agree to beat Nat that night for a diversion?” Clint asked him calmly. “Because the very next day, Steve called a meeting of the families. The very next day, Hansen attacked Steve’s house. He tried to take Steve’s wife. And that was your job, wasn’t it? You beat Nat to try and draw Steve out. Barnes would have known Steve only leaves the house now for business talks. Am I right?”

The corners of Banner’s mouth tipped up as he glared at him. The answer to Clint’s question was in that self-righteous smirk.

Barnes wanted Steve’s position that badly. They’d underestimated him.

“What was in it for you?” Clint had to know. “Besides taking over as Barnes consigliere. What?”

“What the fuck do you think?” Banner shot back. “The plan was for him to take Steve off the board and you with him. I’d be his new consigliere and Nat would be mine. No more interference from her brother or you. She would finally, totally be just mine.”

Swallowing back the sting of bile in the back of his throat, Clint stared him down. “Is that the plan for tonight, Banner? Is tonight Barnes’ second shot at it?”

But then it occurred to him, Banner had been tossed out. He wasn’t there when they made the plan for tonight. He had no way of knowing what was coming down. Not while his only ties left to the Rogers’ family was Paulina.

The bullet came out of nowhere, piercing Banner’s forehead and sending his head sharply back.

Clint dropped the pliers and hit the floor as another shot from behind him hit one of his men in the head. Fuck! Finding cover behind a stack of shipping pallets, Clint pulled out his .45 and began trading fire with whoever the hell it was. The other soldier he brought with him stayed behind him.

Popping up, Clint fired shots at where he thought the shooter must be. One of his bullets found the target, the rough cry sounding familiar. The sound of retreating steps had Clint sprinting in that direction, trying like hell to see who exactly who the fucker was.

If it wasn’t the rat in their family, and Clint suspected it was, it was one of Barnes men. By the time Clint reached the old rusty warehouse door, whoever had been there was gone.

Clint’s mind spun. Barnes was coming after them tonight. His first responsibility was to get to Steve and let him know they were in a world of shit right now.

His heart had him making a different choice. With shaking, blood-covered hands, Clint pulled out his phone and called Nat.

“Clint?” She still answered the phone quietly, as she had the last several years when no one was supposed to know they were talking. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, baby,” he assured her. “But we have a very big problem right now and I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay,” she said.

“When I end this call, I’ve got to tell Steve that we’ve been ratted out,” Clint explained quickly. “Barnes knows what we planned and that puts all of us in danger.”

“Oh my, God,” she whispered.

His heart squeezed in his chest. His Nat had been through so much.

“I don’t want you to worry about that,” Clint told her. “I want you to go get your sister-in-law. Right now. Get her out and take her to your mother’s sewing room. I need you to promise me you’ll do this as soon as you get off the phone.”

“Clint, I’m n-not dressed,” she said in a shaking voice. “I’m in pajamas—”

“You’re not going to take the time to get dressed, baby,” Clint said firmly. “You’re going to do what I tell you. Get the two of you in there as fast as you can. Okay? Do this for me?”

A moment passed. Finally, she said, “Yes… I’ll go now.”

“I love you,” he told her. “Always remember I love you so much.”

“I love you,” she said through tears. “Please stay alive. I can’t l-lose you now.”

Clint didn’t know what they were facing. He really didn’t.

“You won’t lose me,” he told her. “Now go. Get to that room and stay there.”

“Clint!” His other man yelled to get his attention as he pocketed his phone. “Incoming. Look like Barnes’ men.”

Taking a deep breath, Clint got ready for whatever was coming. And he had every intention of getting back to Nat.

***

The sound of the key rattling in the doorknob of your room pulled your attention from the book you really weren’t reading. It was a little early for dinner but maybe Dyson had a reason for arriving early. You knew the family had plans tonight. Dangerous plans.

You didn’t expect Nat to scramble into your room like a scared mouse, swallowed by the dark green bathroom she wore over her pajamas. Her eyes were wide, and fear reflected from those depths.

Something was very wrong here.

“Nat?” You rose from the bed, and she dashed over to you, her hands twisting around the old-fashioned ring of keys like nervous birds.

“Clint called me,” she whispered. “H-he said something about us being ratted out and… he wants me to come get you and take you to my mother’s sewing room.”

“What?” You didn’t understand. “Nat, slow down. Is he talking about—”

“Please,” she begged you. “He wouldn’t have told me to do this if things weren’t really, really bad. We have to go.”

You were shaking your head.

Nat was trying to pull you by the arm. “Why are we going to your mother’s sewing room?”

“Please, just come with me,” Nat begged.

“Okay,” you told her. “Just a minute.”

You wore a sweater with jeans, quickly pulling on a pair of ankle boots. You sprinted for the closet, pulling out the cloth bundle that concealed the handgun Dyson left you. Slapping a loaded clip into the 9 mm, you shoved the other clips and boxes of ammo into a tote bag, carrying it out with you as you went back to Nat.

Her green eyes were wide on the gun in your hand. “How do you have that?”

“Dyson,” you told her. “Let’s go.”

Instead of leading you down the stairs to the rest of the house, Nat led you the other way. You passed her bedroom, the other guestrooms. She stopped in front of what you thought was a linen closet. She opened the door, and the neat shelves of bedding and towels confirmed your suspicions. When she pushed a button on the wall, the shelf and the wall behind it moved, sliding away to reveal a small chamber behind it.

A secret room?

Nat pushed another button and the shelf and wall slid back into place, closing the two of you in a darkened room that was about the size of a child’s bedroom. In her defense, there was a small table with a very old sewing machine on top of it sitting off to the side and a dressmaker’s dummy next to it. There were cobwebs everywhere, like no one had been in the room for years. There was a small oval window, filtering sunlight to brighten the room.

“Oh,” Nat said, kneeling by the sewing machine and pulling a box from under it. There was a small oil lamp and a cigarette lighter. Setting it next to the sewing machine, she lit the lamp to brighten up the room around you.

“So, a sewing room?” you asked, tucking the gun in the waistband of your jeans at your lower back.

Nat nodded. “It really was once. I think our grandmother or great-grandmother actually sewed in here.”

“With a secret door?” You smiled.

“That was put in later,” Nat explained. “By my father. I guess something happened when we were kids that got him thinking. He decided we needed a room that no one else knew about in the house to hide. You know, us and Mom. Sometimes whatever illegal thing he wasn’t supposed to have. He was very proud the feds never found it.”

You nodded. That made sense. But you really needed to know what was going on.

“Okay, now that we’re here,” you spoke quietly, “what did Clint say? What’s going on?”

Taking a seat on the padded bench seat by the sewing machine, Nat took a deep breath. You didn’t like the way her hands shook in her lap.

“He just called me and told me that we’d been ratted out,” she told you. “He said Barnes knew our plans and that put us all in danger.”

Shock and fear had you staring at her. Dyson told you that those plans were dangerous to begin with and now Barnes knew them? You’d all been ratted out?

“Wait, he told you to get to the sewing room?” you asked.

“No, he told me to come get you and for us both to come here.”

Things were serious then. Fuck.

“Did Clint tell you anything that was planned?” you asked. “Anything at all?”

Nat shook her head. “I wouldn’t understand if he did. I’m just so afraid… if something happens to him., I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“Try not to worry,” you told her. “Clint’s not going anywhere now that you’re together.”

Her lips quivered like she wanted to smile but was afraid to.

“I hate this,” she said quietly. “I always have. This business they are in. I know it’s how I’ve had a roof over my head and all the nice things I’ve had in life. But it’s so terrifying to know it can all be gone in the blink of an eye. I remember sitting in here with my mother and Steve a couple of times when we were kids. It wasn’t just knowing we were in danger. It was not knowing anything.”

Your parents had been part of that world too. You’d been spared that. Everyone thought you were disfigured, kept off to the side because of it. If you’d ever been in any danger before Steve came into your life, you weren’t aware of it.

Now? You understood it.

“We know some things,” you told her. “Apparently someone ratted us out. I have a pretty good idea of who that is.”

“Who?” she asked.

“It’s Neal,” you told her. “I’m sure of it. I don’t know how or why but it’s him.”

Nat snorted. “For all we know, it’s Bruce.”

“It’s possible,” you told her. “He probably has a hand in it. I mean, we know he has a link to Barnes. Kat and her sister.”

Her green-eyed gaze never left you.

“But, no offense, he’s a lawyer,” you told her. “He might have gone to Barnes when Steve got you out of that house. But what does he really know that would benefit Barnes? He’s not a soldier. Not part of their plans… But Neal?”

Just the thought of the damage the man could do flooded your mind. He would have been part of planning whatever was supposed to happen tonight.

And Neal was flagrantly ambitious and arrogant. The way he conducted himself in your household with everyone but Steve? Especially you. What would have happened with Banner that day if Scott and Yelena hadn’t been there?

Clint was right. Everyone was in danger. Jesus. You had to think.

“Where was Clint when he called you?” you asked.

Nat shook her head. “I don’t know. All I know is that he said he and Scott were ‘running into town’ tonight. And that was when he left this morning.”

You didn’t miss the fear in her tone.

“Did you bring your phone?” you asked her.

Nat pulled her phone and a charger from the pocket of her robe. You smiled when she handed it to you.

You tried texting Dyson first but got no response. Steve? You weren’t going there. He needed to have his head in the game and think you were safely tucked away.

Luca answered when you texted him, thinking you were Nat. If you could get him up there, to trust you, he might have the information you needed.

Luca: What you need, hon?

“What’s something you’d normally ask for, Nat?”

“Tea,” she told you. “But not for a couple of hours yet.”

Can you bring my tea up early, please? My nerves are bad today, you typed.

Luca: Sure. Give me bout 15 minutes.

Fifteen minutes exactly, Luca came up the stairs with the tray. He’d just reached her bedroom door when you approached him from the other direction. Luca’s dark eyes were wide on you.

“Shit,” he muttered.

You motioned for him to follow you. His expression was a study in reluctance, but he followed you back to the linen closet, waiting for you to open the door to the hidden chamber. Nat stood up when the two of you walked back in.

“What’s this?” Luca asked, handing the tray to Nat and focusing on her.

“Nat just did what Clint asked her to,” you told him. “He called Nat and told her to come get me and for us to come here. He said we’ve been ratted out.”

Luca scrubbed a hand over his lower face, concern bleeding into his expression. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “We don’t know where Clint is. Dyson wouldn’t answer me.”

Luca’s gaze on you was a wild mix of uncertainty and dread. You understood the position he was in.

“I’m not sure where Clint is,” Luca told you. “Dyson? Here in a while, he’s supposed to be meeting Neal. Something to do with Hansen.”

Your anxiety was consumed by fear then. “What? Oh, my God. Luca…” You took a deep breath, trying not to let fear get the better of you. “Luca, if Clint’s right and we’ve been betrayed, and I believe him, who do you think the rat is?”

“Just because you don’t like Neal doesn’t make him a rat,” Luca said calmly.

“I wasn’t there for tonight’s planning session,” you said. “But I’m guessing you were. If we’ve been ratted out, it had to be someone in that room. I know it’s not you or Dyson. I know it’s not Clint. Who else was there?”

“Scott and Neal,” he said.

“Do you really think Scott would do that?”

“Fuck,” Luca muttered, his answer telling you he didn’t believe any more than you did.

“Wait, where’s Steve?” you asked in a panic.

“Locked away in his study with the new consigliere.”

Nat set the tray with the tea on the floor at her feet, riveted to the conversation.

“He just got a new lawyer.” You shook your head. “Do you know him? Could he be a problem?”

“Nah, Murdock’s good people,” Luca told you. “Besides that, he’s blind so…”

If Luca didn’t suspect anything there, you’d trust his judgment.

“Where’s Scott?” you asked. Any of Steve’s trusted circle could be in danger right now or worse.

“Scott and Clint are supposed to be heading this way in the next couple of hours,” he said. “To meet with Steve about their part in this.”

“From the way he sounded, I don’t know if Clint will be there,” Nat whispered.

Steve and Luca were safe. You didn’t know where Clint and Scott were. And Dyson?

“We have to find Dyson and Clint,” you told him before turning your attention to Nat. “Clint called you first, to tell you there was trouble. If Steve’s down there meeting with his lawyer, Clint didn’t get in touch with him which means he’s in trouble.”

Nat’s face crumbled and you hugged her, eased her back down onto the padded bench.

You and Luca both tried Dyson and Clint, you on Nat’s phone. That he wasn’t answering Nat had your fear escalating.

When Luca’s phone rang, he answered immediately. “Scott? Hey, where are you?”

You couldn’t make out what Scott was saying. Luca nodded, mouthing “he’s fine.”

“Do you know where Dyson or Barton is?” Luca asked him, shaking his head.

“S’alright. I need you to get over here,” Luca told him. “Now.”

Luca ended the call, looking from Nat to you. “Scott don’t know where anyone is… Listen. You two need to stay right here, okay? I got to get to the boss and let him know we have a situation. We gotta find Dyson and Clint right fucking now.”

Nat buried her face in her hands, crying. You met his gaze squarely, nodding. Luca had trusted the two of you on what you knew. You were grateful.

“Stay in touch with me,” you told him.

“Will do,” Luca said, making his way out of the sewing room.

There was one more call you had to make. You knew Yelena’s number by heart. You didn’t know if she would recognize Nat’s number or if she’d answer, even if she did.

On the fifth tone, someone answered. “Natasha?” Yelena’s accented voice whispered.

“No, it’s me,” you said.

“You’re already out?” There was a pause then. “I’m so sorry about—”

“I am so sorry about what happened,” she said in a rush. “I’m so sorry—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you cut her off. “But we’ll talk about that later. Are you safe? Dyson said you were safe and with friends.”

“I’m safe,” she told you. You could hear the smile in her voice. “I promise.”

“Do you have any idea where he is right now?” you asked.

“Dyson? No,” she said. “Why? Is something wrong?”

You heard the same fear you felt in her words. “Yes, and we don’t know where he is. Or Clint.”

“Clint?” Yelena asked. “I talked to him earlier. I gave him some intel on where he could find Banner.”

Oh, shit.

“Can you give me the location?” You needed it. “He might be in trouble.” You told her how he called Nat and what he’d said.

“Where is Neal?” Yelena asked.

“Not sure, but I’m told his part of the plan was to go with Dyson to see Hansen,” you explained.

“Neal is the traitor,” she said gravely.

“I know. And we can’t let him kill Dyson.”

“We won’t,” she assured you. “Does Steve know?”

You had to laugh at that. “He soon will. Luca’s going to talk to him.”

“Let me know the second you get any leads on Dyson,” she told you. “We will go find Clint.”

You didn’t know who we were. But you trusted her.

“Thank you.”

“Stay where you are,” she told you. “With Nat. For now.”

You couldn’t promise her that, but you also didn’t want to mess with her head.

“I will,” you said. “Please be careful.”

***

Yelena ended the call, walking back into the living room of the little cabin where Dyson had stashed her for safety. Dyson’s friends, who needed a place to lay low from some trouble they found themselves in, were scattered across the room.

Clay and Aisha were watching something on the History Channel, drinking beer and eating popcorn. Pooch and Cougar were still playing cards. Only Jensen looked up from his laptop to see her return.

“What’s up?” Jensen asked.

“Dyson maybe in trouble,” she told them.

And that was all she needed to say. Now that she had everyone’s attention, she filled them in on the details. Like her, there wasn’t a lot they wouldn’t do for their mutual friend.

Clay was a strategist and didn’t take him long to come up with a plan of action.

“Three of us are going to the location where we sent Barton,” he said. “Three of us are going to Hansen’s place.”

She didn’t miss the distaste in his voice when he said the name Hansen. She wasn’t the only one the bastard had fucked with over the years.

“Yelena, you take Pooch and Cougar and find Barton,” Clay said. “I’ll—”

“No,” Yelena cut him off. “I’m going to Hansen’s.”

Aisha and Clay exchanged a worried glance. “You sure about this?” Clay asked her.

Yelena nodded. After everything Dyson had done for her, for all of them, she wanted to be there to protect him if she could. If anything happened to him, it would devastate her.

It would devastate her boss. And Yelena had no intention of having to tell Mrs. Rogers that anything happened to Dyson on her watch.

Clay nodded. “Aisha, take Pooch and Cougar and go find Barton. Yelena, you and Jensen are with me.”

PS: Just on my fic posts, I’m adding a tip function. In honor of the kitty we just lost in February, I’m donating everything to our local animal shelter. Tips are not, will never be, and have never been expected. But if you feel so inclined, thank you. 🙏

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undead-merman · 1 year

Text

This was a patreon request from Dove Wing: “Hello, could I request a yandere fallen guardian angel Simeon for my March request? I think the idea of him falling due to his obsession of the person he was assigned to protect would be an interesting concept to play around with”

Yandere fallen angel Simeon with GN-Reader SFW

Before The Fall

He was recovering from the death of his last human. They were a lovely woman with a heart of gold however their life came to a quick and tragic end. Taken by their own lover. As much as Simeon tried to protect them, even guardian angels have their limits in incorporeal forms.

He was overtaken by guilt for years, a horrible knowing guilt like the loss of a good friend or even a child. It was heavy on his soul and his other kin worried for him. They did everything they could to cheer him up from distracting him, to trying to talk to him about it, and even celebrating their life. But Simeon only blamed himself.

It wasn’t until Micheal sat down with him and chatted for a few hours, every angel in the area was trying to listen but they were shooed away. When Simeon came back out people whispered carefully asking what happened and if he was alright.

He was given a new human to look over. And he forced a smile to let everyone know he was okay, even if he was still heavy with the weight of his last human on his shoulders. The word spread fast and everyone gave him well wishes and even had a party with all of the foods he loves. But when he saw his reflection in the glass he couldn’t stand it, his stomach churned.

Watching Over You

You were fairly old when he arrived. Normally angels are assigned at birth but your last angel had started a family and was sent back. So here you were as an adult, though still fairly young around twenty or so. He was apprehensive at first, not wanting to get too close in fear of losing someone else again but it was a herculean task.

He always gets attached, it’s in his nature as a heavenly being to love and care for you no matter what, to adore and want nothing but the best for you. But the more devoted to you he got, the more worried he became.

Still, he focused on his duties, gently shooing away bad luck, making sure worldly objects just barely miss you. A humble way to spend his days with you but the way you smile, as if you know he’s watching over you makes his heart skip a beat.

But it’s a few years in when you are met with hardships that he cannot gently sweep away. A bad partner, a financial crisis, or maybe even an unexpected disaster that leaves you stuck without a home. He weeps for you. Weeps deeply and curses his own nature for not being able to help.

A Deep Dark Fall

He watches your situation get worse and worse and how none of your fellow man help, how some even give you judgmental glances. But they don’t know you, how can humanity be so cruel? He finds himself putting at his own feathers.

The way your smile has faded wounds him, and every time you sob it feels like the knife of mankind is driven deeper and deeper. He remembers his last human and despair sinks in.

It gets worse the more you suffer alone. Every time you cry, he reaches out but his hands cannot hold you, he tries to tell you he’s here with you, but you cannot hear. He starts to question why he’s not allowed to comfort you, to make sure you’re truly safe. Whats the point of a guardian angel if he can’t help you in ways that matter?

He starts to curse the heavens above, questioning every that has come before and laughing at tradition as he weeps with you. He doesn’t even care as his feathers molt turning a necrotic black and falling off in patches. But he doesn’t care, what good are they if he can’t even hold you? Can’t use them to help.

He makes a discovery when his wings are half rotten and no white feathers remain he can finally tug the blankets over his body to cover his freezing feet he’s overcome with twisted joy. He’s falling, but he’s finally able to care for you in ways that matter. He happily lets the corruption overtake him, ripping out the rest of his own feathers and he weeps with joy. He’ll finally be able to hold you, love you like your own kind never did, to show you true love.

It’s only when his wings are finally bone, do they fall off. But he laughs through the pain as he can finally feel just how cold the place you sleep is.

Finally Holding You

He takes you into his arms, yanking you as he laughs out tears and feels just how warm you are despite the freezing surroundings. He doesn’t even hear you as you yelp and cry out. He has you. He’s finally holding you.

But it’s when you violently twist and squirm in his loving arms does he see your horrified face. He doesn’t know why you’re looking at him with such horror but he joyously explains what he’s gone through to keep you safe, and now that he is finally tangible in the mortal world he can be with you. Help you, hold your hand through these hard times and lead you to a much happier life.

He still doesn’t understand why you're scared, why you're freaking out. Do you not believe him? He says every little personal detail of your life and explains how he was there watching over you. But when he sees the horror in your eyes he can only tilt his head. Please don’t be afraid, he’s only trying to love you like he was meant to.

He’ll watch over you, even if you don’t understand now. He takes you away from this cold and miserable place. Even if your kicking and screaming. He’ll just cover your mouth and whisper that it will be okay. He’s finally here. He’ll finally do something worthwhile, and he’ll make sure nothing can hurt you ever again.

#obey me #yandere simeon #obey me simeon #simeon x reader #yandere #fallen angel simeon

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teecupangel · 4 months

Note

I know there's been a lot of stuff about the Assassins getting sent into the past, but what if they all got yeeted into the far off future? Yes, Desmond too. Imagine all of them suddenly finding themselves in Cyberpunk or something like that. Desmond might have the best luck at processing everything, but the rest? Oh boy...

That or Desmond in Cyberpunk with the assassins as engrams, which might be easier. It'd be pretty funny if they were all corporeal as well though

I was wondering if this was meant to be a general cyberpunk setting or if you meant Cyberpunk 2077 but then I read the engrams part and I’m gonna assume you meant a Cyberpunk 2077 AU.

You know what would be fun?

If this was a ‘failed’ attempt to resurrect Desmond.

We’ll set it in a highly advanced city ala Night City but not exactly Night City because we want our city to be under the control of Abstergo. We’re going for full cyberpunk dystopia here with Abstergo ruling the city in a mix of Cyberpunk 2077 + watch_dog Legion.

The city itself is kept under heavy guard so escape is high nigh impossible.

To twist the knife on the wound, the name of the city is New Monteriggioni.

That’s right. Abstergo has taken over Monteriggioni and has turned it into a bustling city.

And a high tech prison.

Now, we can go for either the ‘crimes and illegal activities are around the corner if you know where to look’ setup like Cyberpunk or the “the people have been indoctrinated by Templar propaganda” dystopia like in Captain Laserhawk, pick your poison.

The main point is that Desmond and the other Assassins wake up underneath Monteriggioni, in the Auditore crypt.

It’s no longer a crypt, though.

It’s been transformed into some kind of lab and workshop rolled into one.

And the first ones to wake up are Altaïr, Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton.

They wake up sitting on chairs that looked like a new version of the Animus, with the headset slowly sliding off. They are all sitting around an empty space with the Assassin insignia carved on the floor. Behind them are more chairs with other people seemingly sleeping while sitting with the headset covering half their faces.

The moment the headset completely slides off, a hologram appeared in the middle, showing an old man wearing white.

The man introduced himself as Elijah (no last name), a ‘benefactor’ of the Assassins. He gives them a brief background of the current situation:

The city is under Templar control, calling themselves Abstergo

Centuries have passed since their death

Their consciousness is based on the recovered DNA from their remains or something that held their DNA. The DNA sample was incomplete due to the age so Sample 17 and the data compiled by the Assassins were used to complete them so that each one of them would have memories up to their death.

Their bodies are called ‘dolls’ but they have been upgraded as well with an assistance module to help them understand the world around them without overloading their new ‘brain’. This assistance module shows up as a UI that only they can see with an access to the Brotherhood’s digital library (called a database) that can show them information if they request it using their mind.

“The Assassins have lost.” The hologram stated as he slowly paced around, waving his hand towards their direction as he continued, “This is their final Hail Mary.”

Their assistance module shows the info of what Hail Mary means in this context while the hologram stopped in the middle of the room, “They made a deal with me. In exchange for bringing you back, I was given complete control over the Brotherhood.”

“The three of you are the first ones to be awakened.” The old man stopped for a moment before correcting himself, “No. You will be the only ones to awaken. There’s no longer enough energy left in this place to wake the others.”

“That will be your mission.” The old man continued, “The assistance module will explain in details what kind of energy is necessary and where you can find it.”

“Your priority though…” The old man stepped to the side and another hologram appeared, showing a young man sleeping in some kind of… sarcophagus with a glass top?

“This is Desmond Miles.”

Ezio froze.

“At least…” The old man placed a hand on the glass, “This is Desmond Miles’ body, recreated by the Templars to control the city. This city’s security system is powered by POEs in different Abstergo facilities. Abstergo uses this body to control those POEs continuously.”

The hologram of Desmond disappears and the old man walked further to the side as the circle around the Assassin insignia on the floor slid open.

Another chair slowly ascended until it replaced the open hole left by the insignia as the old man continued, “Even if you get the energy and installed it here, they will not wake until this facility comes under Desmond Miles’ control. This is… my final security protocol.”

He stared at the chair as he continued, “Steal the body Abstergo is using and place it on that chair. That chair will upload all of Desmond Miles’ memories.”

“Only then will you be able to wake the others.”

He turned to face the Assassins once more as he said, “Once Desmond Miles has all his memories, he will know what to do.”

“Good luck.”

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letonalucien · 11 months

Text

Dabi accidentally hurts you (Dabi x fem reader) (spoilers for chapter 389 and stuff idk)

This whole latest chapters thing scarred me for life i cried my eyes out i will never truly recover from them so take this wounded dabi stans

Tw: smut,angst, major character death, mentions of suicide

"YOU COULD'VE DIED FOR FUCKS SAKE WHY DID YOU DO IT" Dabi yelled at your face.

Oh, right. His brilliant plan of exploding and killing his whole family along with himself didn't work out as planned. He managed to kill his family but he was still alive. How? Let me tell you:

Hearing the news was absolutely devastating. "Dabi had exploded. He is freezing from the inside right now, he will be dead in a few minutes" was the first thing Shigaraki told you on a call when you were alone in your shared flat with Dabi, recovering from the fatal injury you got in the previous battle. Dabi had told you about his plans before but you didn't think he would actually do it.

There were you, not being able to utter a single word, tears running down your face. Sobbing uncontrollably. Him, your everything had gone, left you alone in this world. You started thinking of going with him. Wait, Shigaraki said he was freezing right now, you wanted to see his body one last time.

There you were again, outside. Somehow you managed to get to the battle place despite your fatal wound that ached with every little move you made. Yes, you had a healing quirk but it didn't work on you, you had to suffer.

You saw his body, Dabi's body. Frozen, his skull showing. You choked on air.

You touched his face delicately, cold, frozen. The man who was able to comfort you no matter what . The man who was always warm due to his quirk, was now cold and lifeless.

You hysterically cried, screamed above his dead body. Kicked the air. Yelled at the dead bodys of his "family members" that he hated so much.

You again leaned over his face. Started showering his lifeless face with kisses. Over and over and over again you kissed his face. He never found beauty in his face, you did, you still found him beautiful in this state of his, dead but pretty.

You cried and kissed him more. Hot tears was straining his face now, your tears, he wouldn't be able to cry even if he was alive.

You wanted him back. More than anything. Oh if he still had a tiny piece of life in his body... Maybe you could have brought him back, it would have most likely killed you since the more fatal the wound is the more energy it takes from your body, but you would give anything for him, that includes your life too.

You smiled into his lifeless face between tears and sobbed before passing out right next to him.

♤ ♤ ♤

You woke up in your flat, on your shared bed. Gods, you had a terrible headache. The first thing you sensed was the smell of Dabi, smoke and parfume. You sat up and looked around for him. Then the previous events dawned on you: Dabi was dead.

You started crying and sobbing again, you had lost him. You couldn't think straight, all you wanted was to be with him but he was gone forever, you were never going to see him ever again.

You didn't hear Dabi walk back to your shared bedroom because of how lost you were and how loud your sobs were. Only when he jumped on you with a tight hug and yelled "Y/N" did you realize his presence. You squeled and tried pulling away to look at his face but he held you in your place where you belonged, right there, where his face was burried in the crook of your neck.

You thought this was a dream at first because you had passed out next to dabi's lifeless body and now you were in your flat and dabi was hugging you, yes, you must be dreaming. You started crying, it was only a dream.

He heard your sobs and felt your small body spasm in his grasp. What was going on?

He pulled away to look at your face, eyes swollen and lip trembling while you were clenching at him like you could lose him any moment.

"Love, what's wrong? You're alive, I couldn't have been happier. Why are you crying?" he asked with an evident concern in his voice, Dabi rarely voiced his emotions like this. This made you cry harder.

"This is just a dream isn't it? You're dead in real life aren't you?" you asked between sobs.

He hugged you again, burrying your face in his chest.

"I'm not. I promise." He wished he was though. Now that he was relieved you're alive, his anger started surfacing in him again. He let go of you.

"I wish I was though." He continued. You were baffled by his words.

"You wha-" he cut you off.

"Y/N YOU COULD'VE DIED FOR FUCKS SAKE. WHY DID YOU DO IT?" the sudden raise in his voice made you jolt on the bed, he had never yelled at you before. You got up to try and explain yourself.

"I-" he cut you off again.

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD." there was blood leaking out of his burnt tear bags, he was crying. "DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MISERABLE I FELT..." he grabbed your arm and got closer to your face, his grip was tight. "...THINKING YOU WERE DEAD BECAUSE OF ME?" his grip on your arm was tightening with every word while you bit your lip and tried to hold your tears back. "YOU DIDN'T WAKE UP FOR FOUR DAYS" he sobbed, now his grip was rapidly heating on your arm, he must be having a hard time controlling his emotions. "I COUDLN'T-" his yelling was cut off with a scream of pain that escaped from your throat before you broke down crying. He quickly let go of your arm in horror of what he has done only to see second-degree burns on your skin, he had hurt you, he had hurt you badly.

Your knees collapsed on the ground. This action made the newly decreasing pain of your previous fatal wound ache too.

"Oh Y/N" he whispered with a cracked voice. He... He had hurt you, was a monster.

He knelt down to take a look at your wound, you unconciously flinched at the sight of his reaching hand. It broke his heart to see you scared of him.

"I'm sorry" he whispered and backed away. "I'm so sorry" was the last words he spoke before he left the room, he was going to leave you all by yourself again.

"No, no, no... Don't leave me alone again! *sob* I can't bear it! DABI DON'T LEAVE!" you cried out hysterically. He stopped in his tracks. He imagined how lonely you must've felt when they gave the news to you, the same way he felt when you didn't wake up for days.

He sighed. "You scared the living hell out of me" he said in a barely audible voice.

"I couldn't lose you. When you left me alone... I thought of going with you..." you said. The last part dreaded him. Your suicide, caused by him.

He knelt down once again, but was still scared of scaring you so he was extra delicate with his moves.

He rubbed your upper arms. "Never, ever say that again. Don't be dumb. I can't bear the thought of losing you even if I'm dead."

"Are you angry at me?" you asked with tearful eyes. Please don't be angry at me please.

He sighed. "I never was, I was just so damn worried. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I couldn't drink, I thought I had lost you, you idiot."

He hugged you tight again, careful not to touch both of your wounds. Even if he had hard time showing it to you sometimes, you were his everything.

He then got up to get the medical equipment to treat your burn. You two were both familiar with injuries so you always had equipments at home.

He himself had a lot of experience with burn wounds, as expected.

He started gently treating your wound. Seeing those large calloused villain hands being oh so gentle with your small form always caused your heart melt. He was so cute like this. All focused on treating you, and not hurting you more during the process.

Once he was done he showed a lazy smile. You looked up at his turquoise eyes and delicately kissed his lips, a small geniune kiss. "Thank you". And that switched something in him, horny bastard.

This time, he started kissing you. Surprisingly gentle, he usually liked it rough, it was almost as if he was scared of breaking you.

He took you into his lap and started planting butterfly kisses on your neck. No hickeys, just feather light kisses, although they were wet.

You could feel his bulge poking against your thighs.

You moaned softly and buried your hands in his white hair, ah his hair was so soft and it smelled like flowers.

He freed one of your breasts and started licking it gently.

He lifted up your dress, he had dressed you like this when he brought you home, his favorite dress with yellow flowers. He slid your panties to the side and started fingering you. Oh you were in heaven. "So pretty" he whispered against your collar bone.

Once he decided you were ready, he withdrew his fingers. You whined at the emptiness. "Patience, princess" he said before giving you a peck on your lips. He unzipped his pants and freed his cock from his boxers, the size never failed to amaze you, how did this thing fit in you?

You lifted yourself up while dabi held you from your waist, being careful with the wound on your stomach.

You slowly took him in. He groaned. You could see how it took everything in him to prevent himself from fucking you senseless right there and now but no. He didn't do that.

He thrusted slowly while holding you in your place. In and out. You moaned loudly.

His speed increased but he never let himself pound into you. He was good at controlling himself. God, you were so pretty.

"You're going nowhere" he said as the both of you were close. He was clenching you for life. "Nowhere, you're staying with me" he said against the crook of your neck.

His pace and the force he used remarkably increased. Your orgasm hit you. He started twitching inside while you came on his dick.

With one last strong thrust he burried himself balls deep inside you and came.

The relatively large man under you trembled and rested his head on your shoulder. You stroked his hair while he simply rested there.

You two truly couldn't survive without each other.

#bnha dabi #dabi #dabi smut #mha dabi #mha spoilers #smut with plot #dabi angst #touya todoroki #dabi x y/n

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cr1mson5returns · 10 months

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Another fic idea I've been kind of tossing around...

I meant it when I said I really just stopped reading comics after the Red Robin solo series got cancelled.

Tim spends a little longer in Iraq than he thought he would, and honestly these assassins are getting on his last goddamn nerve.

Owens is 100% intent on annoying the shit out of Tim and makes it super obvious. The man is a few inches taller than him and makes it so well known by ruffling Tim's hair and calling him "Shortcake" and just guffawing every time Tim gives him a nasty look. Pru is standoffish at first (nursing a broken nose) but eventually starts matching Tim's energy in her own way. She throws a bag of snacks at him and threatens to gut him if he doesn't eat, smacks him when he glares at her.

But Z is probably the most annoying of them all because he's legitimately trying to parent Tim and you're not my fucking dad, God, leave me alone. Z of course is not taking orders from a literal teenager and just kind of sits in Tim's general vicinity until he wears the kid down and gets him to at least tolerate his presence, if not warm up to him. One night, after a particularly difficult nightmare, Tim wakes up in a cold sweat breathing hard and finds Z sitting in an armchair by the window, where it's easier to see him in the moonlight. He waits a minute before asking Tim if anything ever makes it better, and is that.....concern? Tim sniffs (he's not crying, thank you) and admits that nothing really helps, that he used to take something to help him sleep but he doesn't anymore. Z stands up to leave and gestures to the bedside table. "It's not prescription, but it helps me sometimes."

When the man walks out, Tim looks at the bedside table and sees a small gelcap pill next to a glass of water. Part of him whirs with all the different concoctions of poisons that could be in that pill, but a bigger part of him thinks "fuck it, whatever" and downs it with a few gulps of water.

Tim has the best sleep of his life and wakes up the next afternoon well-rested and a little less cranky. He doesn't say anything to anyone, and nobody questions why he slept so late, but Z does ask him if he'd like breakfast food or dinner food with a gentle smile.

When the Widower attacks, Tim comes to after passing out from the initial shock and thinks - "Fuck this, I did not come all this way just to bleed to death in the desert." It's painful to stagger around trying to apply pressure to wounds and tearing his cape into tourniquets, and even more so dragging limp and barely-alive bodies into the car, and by the time he gets back to Baghdad he's lost so much blood and doesn't have the strength to get anyone up to the executive suite at Wayne Tower. He feels a little less terrible about it when he realizes that the League of Assassins has arrived, and he puts his head back and closes his eyes. What a terrible fucking day.

It takes work to save their lives. It's not easy but the League employs some truly skilled medical personnel, and Ra's trusts them to at least make sure Tim survives. Z, Pru, and Owens are able to get up and try to make their way around after a bit, and they all find themselves congregating outside the room where Tim is recovering. It's quiet for a moment while they all just look at each other with that feeling that only comes when you're 98% certain you'll never see each other again. At last, Owens speaks up. "You think we'll get in trouble if we go in there?"

Tim is not kept in a medically induced coma, but he is on very regular doses of very strong sedatives and painkillers. He's mostly unconscious the entire time, save for surfacing a little bit about thirty minutes before the next dose is due. He can hear the three assassins in the room, talking around him, and he desperately wants to interject in the conversation (because they're plotting to restrict his caffeine intake and come on, guys, I saved your lives, let me have this one thing) but it comes out as jumbled nonsense. He's almost aware that he's being sedated, but he's on the good drugs so the thought slips away about as quickly as it appears.

The assassin team is pretty worried that Ra's might decide to abandon this whole pursuit and just kill Tim in spite of earlier plans. They've just made the decision to mutiny and fight their way out of the Cradle when they're asked to help with applying some restraints. The doctors are weaning Tim off the sedatives but definitely don't want to risk what happens when he wakes up a little more lucid than he is now. So the trio breathes a collective sigh of relief and does as they're told, and when Tim does finally wake up for real he looks down at the restraints, up at the trio, and croaks, "I'm not a psych patient."

Owens can't help himself. "Not yet!" He's earned the glare. (Gotta razz the kid a little, they all almost died out there.)

Somehow Tim gets the trio on board with his plans and when the League bases go down, they fight their way out through the Council of Spiders and go back to Gotham City as a group. Halfway there, Tim realizes - oh, shit, there's nowhere in the world that the trio can go where Ra's al Ghul won't have them hunted down and killed. He sits back in his seat on the plane with a sigh. There's so much responsibility happening right now.

When all's said and done and Bruce Wayne's legacy is intact, and Tim is a little less fucking edgy all the time, he quietly procures a house in a nice neighborhood and shows up at the safehouse where the trio are hiding out one day like, "Get up, we're moving in." And they all exchange looks but they follow him, because what else are they going to do? And the house is cute, not a mansion by any means but a fixed-up little historic home in a neighborhood mostly full of old folks and families. Tim's already put basics in there as far as furniture goes, tells the others he doesn't care what they put up on the walls "as long as you don't have any guns in sight, we're going to have people over sometimes, Jesus." But Z knows it's fond.

Other heroes are very....skittish about Tim's housemates. Kind of wondering why he trusts these people not to just kill him in his sleep. But Z does sort of corner Tim in the kitchen one day and tell him, "You don't have to do this, you know. Not everything that happens is your fault."

Tim shrugs, affecting carelessness. "I'm just helping." His hand shakes a little lifting his mug to his mouth for a sip.

#tim drake #red robin #league of assassins #batfamily #ra's al ghul #assassin trio

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onecantsimply · 2 years

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Okay so Ai got a repost that had a tag about the angst for this post-

So-

WE’RE MAKING A VERSION OF WHEN THEY SURVIVE AND WHEN THEY DIE- NOW LET’S GO-

You Live:

ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕤:

• Through all the wounds, through all that agony, and through all those struggles against that God, you had won. You had been announced as the winner as your opponent shattered into green particles from behind you. And Heracles couldn’t be happier. He was crying during that match but he won’t admit it-

- But when he sees you returning to your tunnel with your Valkyrie partner helping you, he quickly makes his way towards the sick bay. Bet your ass he’s running because he wants to see you as soon as possible. And when he does, he’s immediately by your side as you get bandaged up. He knows he can’t really give you a hug since you’re really damn injured, but he can give you kisses-

- He will not hold back with them, guaranteed. While you’re getting bandaged up by a doctor, Heracles is gripping your hand, spilling how worried he was when you had gotten yourself injured. Though, hope shall never waver, because he was very fucking relieved when you had won. Even through the amount of time that had to be wasted just for you to get your edge-

• And right when you’re recovered, Heracles throws a good party for you- At that point he’s going to get drunk and he’ll spill everything. All his emotions, all his hugs, all his kisses, everything- Mans is vulnerable-

ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕤:

• The gentle smile filled with relief that makes it onto his face is immediately visible once he sees your opponent shatter into the pieces of green shards. And as Heimdall announces your victory, Hermes finally lets go of breath he had been holding for what seemed like forever.

- Now, Hermes finds it necessary to help you to the med bay. He has no care for people that try to stop him. Not when you’re most likely waiting for him while walking down the tunnel. And in the instant he greets you down that hall, Hermes has a firm grip on your hand, as well as a firm hug to your figure.

- He just can’t help it when he’s been so worried for you in that bout against a God. His worry soon starts to disappear when he sees you getting bandaged up. And due to his own work, he cannot stay there very long, but he will make sure to visit you when he can.

- By the time you’re recovered, Hermes is already waiting for you, having a few gifts ready for you for your win. Be prepared for cuddle sessions and gentle kisses to your forehead, because that is most of what Hermes will give you when he’s cuddling you in bed.

𝕆𝕕𝕚𝕟:

• Goodness. Good fucking goodness. Odin isn’t exactly cracking an expression at it, but he visibly lets go of his chair and tenses down. Instead of showing his relief in public, he keeps it inside until he’s in a private space with you.

- While he is not exactly the one to be emotional, even in private, he is still sensible enough to give you a few hugs, kisses, as well as a few words of congratulations for winning. It wasn’t on the side he wanted it to be on, but he’s still glad of your win, as well as your survival-

- Like Hermes, Odin is almost always busy, so he does have to go away after a small bit. Though, he will be sure to visit you at least once more while you’re in recovery. Without Huginn and Muginn, of course. Those crows do not know how to stay silent. Odin had to grab them by the throat to keep them from yelling out how he was with you in the hospital.

- Though, while you are done recovering, Odin can finally have the time he needs with you once he gets home. That’s where he’s most comfortable, and more capable of speaking. He will make sure you don’t get into any more situations that include fighting. He’ll deal with it himself.

You Die:

ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕤:

• He knew it was coming. He fucking knew it was coming. So why is he behaving like he wasn’t ready for your death? He feels somewhat numb, even if he can hear and feel himself starting to tear up. Your apology towards him as you start to shatter into green particles… It almost broke him down completely.

- Hearing the sneers and shouts of the Gods in the crowd didn’t make it any better. Not when they were insulting your name for daring to want to keep Humanity alive. At least… At least in his own battle, maybe he could join you, along with the fallen Humans and Gods just before.

- Now Heracles isn’t exactly the same for a few days, no matter how much he wants to be. Ares is concerned for him. It’s as if the literal Sun in the world had shut itself down. Though, Heracles knew that crying or moaning about it wouldn’t bring you back. So he had to be strong for his own side, and count on the memories he had before.

- While he is out of that depression phase, he’s more serious, and doesn’t seem to smile as much. The only thing he does smile at is the memories of you, or the things that remind him of you. Though, as soon as he remembers his goal, he goes right back to being serious. Ragnarok changed him for the worst.

ℍ𝕖𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕤:

• Utter silence from the man himself as he watches your wounds get the better of you, and allow your opponent to kill you. Those very same wounds make your body shatter into green particles, keeping Hermes in his fit of silence.

- His movements are completely still, and his eyes dully stare towards where you previously were. The cheers of the Gods for their handpicked fighter, as well as the yelling of disgust towards your name had Hermes washed in an emotion of something he hadn’t felt in a while.

Utter hatred.

- He supposed that this was your fate, though. You did go against the Gods just to fight for a race like Humanity. But even so, Hermes was still your significant other. And he still cared for you. He’s just glad that he made you as happy as you could be in your final moments with him.

- And within the walls of his own home, it feels empty without you to be by his side in bed. Alone once again, and Hermes has to get used to it. His silence is what he will treat almost everyone with, although he will still do the tasks he is assigned to do. The only thing on his mind is you, and will forever be kept that way for as long as he lived.

𝕆𝕕𝕚𝕟:

• Well, it was to be expected. And yet, Odin can’t help but have that gnawing pain at his own heart and soul. He can’t hear anything as he grips the arms of his chair until it breaks from his force. His silent glare is focused on the God that had made you shatter before his very eyes.

- Seeing how they had walked into the tunnel, victorious and happy at their own win… It made him sick. Especially when he saw the other Gods laughing and presumably yelling. He couldn’t hear them, but he knew what they were doing. They were making fun of you.

- He will make sure that they never make fun of you ever again with one deathly glare all aimed at them. Huginn and Muginn had flew off of his shoulders while the Gods quieted down. And with that, Odin had made his way out of the stadium, knowing fully well that he would never see you again.

- He kept himself stoic, and he kept himself normal. Though that nagging feeling never left his heart, so he chose to honor you in his own heart, keeping his feelings for you once again tucked away so he could stay normal. One more win for the Gods. Just a few more to go before the memories could be gone for one thousand more years.

#record of Ragnarok #record of Ragnarok x reader #record of Ragnarok Heracles #Heracles x reader #record of Ragnarok Hermes #Hermes x reader #record of Ragnarok Odin #Odin x reader

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kristailine · 9 months

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On Kazuya's and Jun's Love Languages

I really love this ship with all my heart like I think I shipped them way before I have known what shipping meant. It's so frustrating that we really don't know much about their relationship and dynamic in canon but I can't help but wonder what they would've been like as a couple >.<

For me, personally, I really do think that Kazuya and Jun are both suckers on Quality Time. I feel like once they felt their attraction to the other, they kept longing to be in each other's presence, and at first Kaz was probably like "I just have to know more about her because she's mysterious." and shit like that like hunny, just say you're crushing on her 😩

Jun probably thought the same like "I need to be in his presence because of the darkness that surrounds him." Just say he's hot and you wanna date him, girl.

When they do hang out together, they make the most out of their time and just really let themselves get lost in the moment. It probably also supports that no matter how short the KOIFT 2 was, it was enough quality time for them to bond with each other enough for them to fall in love or get closer to one another or however viewers wanna interpret it (as we wait for tk8 to confirm wth happened between them in tk2).

Kazuya's secondary love language - I think I'm leaning mostly on Acts of Service. He probably isn't aware because he just thinks he's doing people a favor, but unconsciously, it's his way to show that he cares about the people he values. Like that man helped Bruce seek refuge after the plane crash and fake his death so he doesn't get caught by interpol. Hell he even granted Anna her request of being put in cryo sleep.

Doing acts of service to express his love for Jun was probably the most convenient and easiest way he could ever express how much he cares about her. Other love languages are just too explicit so he mostly tries to reason to himself that 'he's just doing Jun a favor' but it's probably him doing his best to get the message across that he truly values her so he's willing to do such things for her.

I can just imagine Jun having a bad day, and Kaz, being the man that he is who sucks with speaking comforting words and probably never initiated physical affection to anyone, gets up from his seat and goes "I'll show you some of the floras in the Mishima Estate garden since you love ecology so much." and then hopes she'll feel better. "I'll go get Lee to fix those papers you need for your work." or maybe even when they're sparring, Kazuya would always be the one to get her a bottle of water and a towel to wipe her sweat off with, since Jun is probably out of breath and needs more time to recover.

Jun's secondary love language - Words of Affirmation. Have ya'll just seen the sappiest ass shit she says to Kazuya in her tk8 intros and outros and even in Tekken Motion Picture like girlie has a helluva lot to say and she is so valid so let her speak 🗣️

Tekken Bloodline (tho non canon ugh) also kinda portrays Jun being comforting with words with the way she talks to Jin after his encounter with the bullies. Jun is seen as having some kind of profound sense of wisdom which enables her to empathize and feel people due to her being psychic and also spending most of her time during childhood getting in touch with nature. So I think with that, she always has the right words to say, and she knows exactly how to put into words how much she cares for a person. Plus she's an INFJ (lol).

Kazuya probably wouldn't have let her in his life had Jun not said the right words upon meeting him. Kazuya being in such a powerful position during TK2 had him surrounded with people who only spoke of deceit and lies to get to his good side and all that, and seeing how genuine Jun was with her words and how much it deeply soothed some of his inner wounds may have deepened the way he saw her. Thus, they became closer.

I do like to think that even though Jun is good with her words, she never really got the guts to outright say I love you to Kazuya 😩 I think she be too shy and bashful for that but argh with a little bit more of delulu to the ship, maybe I can convince myself that she did. Objectively speaking really, I don't think she could ever have said it during TK2.

Honorable mentions to Jun's secondary love language - Physical touch. Like idkkkkk, probably just me but I think I got it from somewhere that her tk8 outro literal translation kinda says she wants to snuggle up to Kazuya, and that is just so sweet 😩 im crying

Just a few two cents on them really :>>

#kazjun #kazujun #kazuya x jun #tekken #mishima kazuya #kazuya mishima #kazama jun #jun kazama #kazujunhcbykrista

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choices-binglebonkus · 1 year

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Wake the Dead: Endings We Should Have Gotten

By now, I’ve made it very, very clear that I found Wake the Dead’s ending supremely disappointing. All those chapters of build-up and hard work for…this? A saccharine, uncharacteristic ending where none of our choices ended up mattering?

Wake the Dead, as I’ve said probably a hundred times now, had a lot of squandered potential. Like, the potential was there. The book itself wasn’t anything to write home about, but the ending really could’ve turned things around. Sadly, it did not, and it actually lowered the quality of the book as a whole in my opinion.

But what if we got a different ending?

More specifically, what if we got several different endings?

As I was eating dinner before class, my mind wandered and out of nowhere, I started brainstorming ideas for different endings we could have gotten in Wake the Dead. Granted, not all of them are practical, as PB has time and budget constraints. It’s a miracle they were even able to make three Endless Summer endings, so I know my ideas would absolutely be out of the question. However, I thought I'd let myself dream a bit. Just for funsies, you know?

I would have implemented four different endings for the book: the best ending, the good ending, the bad ending, and the worst ending. In addition to these four different endings, the five love interests would also be determinant, their fates factoring into the ending the player would get alongside the colony’s stats.

The LI Deaths

As I mentioned, the love interests’ determinant deaths also have impact on the ending you get. There are two conditions unique to a specific love interest that must be met for them to die.

Angel: Angel will die if you let her bring her zombie parents to the colony in chapter 4 (eventually causing them to break out and kill Mack) and have a low fortifications stat.

She is killed by the scout zombie that attacks her and the main character in chapter 19 because Mack isn’t there to intervene and draw it away.

Eli: Eli will die if you choose not to shoot him in chapter 12 (causing him to feel immensely guilty for attacking you) and have a low food supply stat.

He is fatigued from both a lack of food and his bite, which he’s still recovering from, and knows that he probably isn’t going to make it through the Solstice. To absolve some of his guilt from attacking the main character, he opts to accompany Walt in drawing some of the zombies away and taking as many down as he could before the two die together.

Shannon: Shannon will die if you save Minna over her in chapter 8 (causing her to be traumatized) and have a low research stat.

She is surrounded by zombies and has a heavy anxiety attack before she is overwhelmed and quickly devoured by the horde.

Sledge: Sledge will die if you choose not to save Boots and the other survivors in chapter 19 and have a low fighters stat.

She will take the risk to save Boots herself, but since she does it without your help, she gets surprised and killed by the zombie lurking on the ground (the one that wounds your leg if you do opt to try and save Boots) en route to save the survivors. Unfortunately, the survivors then die anyway because Sledge was unable to save them.

Troy: Troy will die if you have a low morale stat. Yes, I’m aware this makes it easier for him to die, but unlike all the other characters, he’s not really a strong, smart, or crafty fighter. He’s just…some guy. I mean, his weapon of choice is literally a pipe. Plus, none of the hard choices connect to him in any way.

He is incredibly stressed over the Solstice due to the lack of morale, and this makes his already lackluster fighting skills sloppy. After the zombies break through the gate, Troy is one of the first casualties and is crushed by a soldier zombie because he just couldn’t manage.

The Endings

The Best Ending: Upper-moderate to high levels in three or more stats, achieving at least 55 kills, and all five love interests surviving will earn players the best ending.

The colony survives and thrives and is able to repair the damage from the Solstice as well as begin preparing ahead of time for the next one in seven years. Shannon continues her zombie research, and it’s hinted that if things keep going the way they are, she may find a way to make bites nonfatal: the closest thing the survivors will get to a cure for zombiism.

The Good Ending: Moderate to upper-moderate levels in three or more stats, achieving at least 50 kills, and at least three love interests surviving will earn players the good ending.

The colony, though it’s been damaged by the hordes of zombies from the Solstice, is still in good shape. There were minimal casualties, but it’s going to take a while to fix all the damage sustained. Shannon, if she is still alive, continues her zombie research, but doesn’t foresee any groundbreaking discoveries on the horizon, but is able to make advancements here and there.

The Bad Ending: Lower moderate to moderate levels in three or more stats, achieving at least 45 kills, and at least three love interests dying will earn players the bad ending.

The colony is in really, really rough shape. It’s still standing, but barely. Damages are extensive, casualties from the Solstice were numerous, and supplies are stretched thin. The survivors speculate that they may have to abandon the stronghold and start anew elsewhere within a few months, as there is little that can be done to repair the facilities and barricades, and the zombies are still at large. Shannon, if she is still alive, can no longer continue her research due to dwindling resources and more prominent dangers.

The Worst Ending: Low to lower-moderate levels in three or more stats, achieving 39 kills or less, and all five love interests dying will earn players the worst ending.

The colony has fallen. In the wake of the Solstice, the few who survived decided it was every person for themself and fled, taking whatever remained of the supplies with them. The main character, completely alone, vulnerable, and wracked with survivor’s guilt, exhaustion, and hunger, is bitten and grievously wounded. Though they manage to kill the zombie that attacked them, they have no supplies and no one to help treat the bite and they die alone in the woods with the terrible knowledge that they’re going to turn shortly after their death.

Again, I thought these were some of the potential outcomes we should have gotten had Pixelberry deigned to put the effort in. As I said, maybe they aren’t the best, and maybe they aren’t the most practical. But I thought the ending we got for Wake the Dead was truly awful and definitely one of the worst book endings we’ve ever gotten. I said it a year ago, and I’m saying it again.

WtD deserved better.

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happyk44 · 6 months

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what if Percy had a Roman Older sister stormy seas kid who, after learning/realizing that Percy was crushing his nature, decided that it was her holy sisterly duty — make him blossom, to surrender to his stormy sea.

she uses various tactics of mental manipulation, presses with all her might, awakens triggers, adjusts stressful situations.

And in the end, in tartarus, Percy [whose consciousness is pretty exhausted by her] still can't stand it and takes Achlys under control.

only unlike the canon, Annabeth fails to appeal to his humanity and Percy is happy to torture Goddess....

When they return through the gates of death and Percy has recovered at least a little physically, his sister comes to him.

She smiles, her smile is almost natural, almost soft and sincere, as if she really loves Percy as her little brother.

And She hugs him.

perhaps her hugs from the outside seem tender and loving, but Percy feels that he is drowning, he feels that he is lost in the sea, he is completely helpless like then in Alaska and he is terribly cold, her body seems colder to him than Alaska.

he feels that he is completely at her mercy.

She briefly presses her lips to his forehead, her bitter salt burns his wounds.

— my younger brother, — she says in a lively, warm voice, — congratulations, you have finally blossomed.

Percy snuggles up to her and cries.

She got her way.

he broke down.

[my God, I got carried away too much..]

Ohhh that's great and painful 🙌

It would be difficult for her to achieve in canon since Percy was only in Camp Jupiter for like. A day 😂 But 🤔🤔 maybe as a travel buddy out of the Wolf House to California? Works better, I think, since Neptune's stormy children would struggle with teamwork due to the social aspect. Cohort members are reluctant to team up with them as well, because they'll often leave teammates behind or be unbothered by capture. So I imagine they're often kept out of Camp Jupiter/New Rome, or, back in the day anyway, regulated to reconnaissance due to its solitary nature.

Amnesiac Percy stumbling across a girl who is just like him and finding kinship. From your description, she's one of the stormy kids who doesn't have SzPD, but carries enough traits of it that she ditched her journey from the Wolf House to Camp Jupiter. Would rather be alone near the ocean than surrounded by people forced to engage.

She senses a suppressed storm inside him. She knows he's different. She can feel it, but can't tell what. Assumes that he favours fresh water versus the storm, and decides that it won't do. Any idiot can turn salt water to fresh water, pull clean water from sludge, sense drinkable liquid nearby.

Dangers are everywhere. He needs to embrace the storm to survive. Fresh water is fine, but he only needs enough for himself. Worse comes to worse, he can just yank it from monsters, from people. In order to do that, he needs to let go and let himself be swallowed by the uncaring depths.

Percy doesn't remember anything but Annabeth. Even past her, there's a gut feeling that other people - forgotten others he tries so desperately to push through the haze to remember - wouldn't be happy if he became nothing but violence. His sister's words make sense as they travel. She does show him useful things. But she scratches at this itch he knows he's been keeping back, even if he can't remember why.

Something in the back of his head calls out for kindness, reminds him to be good. He doesn't recognize the voice, but it's familiar to him, warm and loving, and it's what make him hold back. Why he simply draga her away and apologizes to whoever she ticked off, instead of baring down into a fight like the adrenaline in his veins pumps for.

He knows pissing people off is not intentional with her. Making kids cry in the bus terminal isn't purposeful. It's clear she knows certain social niceties. However, the grand scale of them is beyond her. Combined with her general indifference, she often says or does things that carry unintentional way. Her brows will furrow, like she doesn't know why they're angry or upset.

She is a blank slate most of the time. Any expression shown is confusion or mild annoyance. After just a few days of travelling with her, Percy knows her apathy is not an edgy facade. He's sure she could watch him be tortured and feel nothing. That she might sit by and observe if it kept her entertained. Unless it turned on her, or maybe if she grew bored, it wouldn't stop by her hand.

He doesn't want to be that person. Or at least the voice in his head, the image of Annabeth, the sense of connection in the pit of his stomach don't want him to be that person. Still, he's sure he likes feeling things. Having a favourite burger is better than his sister's "it's just food" opinion because she finds no enjoyment in eating. Feeling has to be better than endless apathy.

Sometimes, though, he's not sure about that. When there's a dam in his chest he's constantly building up. His lack of memory makes knowing why he has to hold his emotions behind the dam hard, but he tries anyway. He knows that the dam is important to Annabeth, important to the foggy other two. He knows the dam is what keeps him good.

His sister isn't stupid though. She's been around people long enough to know how to get them to do things for her. She's not often manipulative, never truly has a reason to be so, she just doesn't care about people enough. But it was useful when she was younger and needed to get people to go away.

The thing about being the perpetual wallflower is that people talk without noticing her standing in the shadows nearby. Secrets abound. There's minimal to no pleasure in the outcome - aunt and uncle screaming because of dual betrayals, other little girls throwing themselves at each other with fists - but it's better than being unentertained and still feeling nothing. At least this way she can focus on something, other than her persistent internal silence.

She knows her brother's lack of memories will make him easier to train. While the girl will be useful in her aim to get Percy to relax, Annabeth confuses her. She's never understood what love is, or why it's important. The word always felt wrong in her mouth. Luckily her mother was understanding. It was spoken very little to her, and her mother never needed any word back. Only other family members demanded the response. They didn't care for her empty tone.

Her vague sense of admiration and gratitude for her mother's defense of her abnormalities was likely the closest she would ever get to feeling love.

Still, she know the emotion is important to people. Friendship, families, lovers - all types of connection that people crave. They will bend easier to the whims of those people. They will soften themselves. They will toughen themselves. They will change.

Both her and Percy are as unrelenting as the sea. They are as stubborn as the bull sacrificed in their father's honour. Forcing Percy's hand is much harder than she'd like. Anhedonia creates a lack of internal motivation to follow through on her goal, but luckily she's been good at forcing herself to do things she has no drive to do.

Turning Percy's gaze away from the inland water, now bottled and caged for vast consumption, to the untamed and thriving sea is the first true goal she's had in a while. Where other kids dreamt of becoming astronauts or doctors, she simply shrugged away the question.

Directionless, the teachers had said every year until she'd been taken to the Wolf House. Doesn't show her full potential.

Certainly those words carry no weight now.

They have closed in on California by the time she sees the first twitch in Percy's gaze. She stands by while he fights. While smaller and seemingly younger monsters do not engage with her, monsters are an unavoidable nuisance. She learnt young how to get rid of them. Bursting blood splattered across grass and trees.

She was five years old when the newspaper of her town reported on spontaneous combustion after she'd been threatened in the park. The Mist made the monster fall in and out of view. When it had exploded, it looked like a little old lady. It was in the aftermath, when people kept asking her if she was okay, and other kids were crying out of shock and fear, that she first realized she was not normal. Both as a mortal, and a person.

Unfortunately for everyone else, she didn't care.

Percy is panting. The monster is fast. Whenever Percy gains the upper hand, it dives towards her. In a rushed follow, Percy loses the upper hand and she steps away from the fight. The cycle continues repeatedly. Percy knows her well enough by now to realize she will not participate until threatened. She wonders if he's upset by that. Other people would be. The kids she had been journeying with after the Wolf House had been.

But Percy never shows bother with her. Perhaps it's his unbreakable skin. Without scratches left behind, it must be easier not to care if she helps out or not.

Nonetheless this battle has carried on longer than it should. Displeasure burns across Percy's face as he chases the monster away from her. In her peripheral she can see another monster coming up. It ignores Percy and the clash of metal to creep closer to her. Partially hidden by the shadows from the trees, it keeps low to the ground.

She's not afraid of dying. Her death is incoming with every passing day. Dying now or later means nothing to her.

Percy disagrees.

She doesn't flinch when monster blood and flesh hit her. Percy's enraged yell echoes in the air, even after he's clenched his teeth shut. His arm falls languid to his side, the tip of his sword scraping the ground. His own monster is nothing but blood on the ground and blood on his person.

The thing they never say about monsters is that only a clean kill instantly dissolves into dust. Pulling their blood outside their body leaves behind a messy corpse. Over time it will dissolve. The skin and all still attached to it goes first, then any guts that had been severed. Then the blood.

She cocks her head as Percy stares at his bloodstained hands. Depersonalization is not unfamiliar to her. She often does not see herself in the mirror, does not recognize the sound of her voice. It's mild. At least she thinks it is. She can reocognize the confusion in Percy's face. The way he flexes his fingers like he's seeking acknowledgement that his hand is his, fingers following his commands.

It never works.

But she doesn't tell him that. This is the first stage of accepting the sea. They were not made for dry land, yet they were banished to it. Forced to walk with spindly legs instead of swimming with strong fins. Smooth skin instead of strong shells. They are not supposed to feel at home in these bodies.

"You should do that next time," she says as Percy clenches his fist and drops his arm. His eyes have cast away, and he does not address her when she speaks. "It will go faster."

He snorts. "Or you could help?"

She cocks her head. "Why? I'm not afraid of dying."

He twists to face her. Upset at her words is clear in his face. Her words hold back her true reason. Yes, she is not afraid of dying, but he is afraid of her dying. He does not want it. And that makes him weak.

I met your step-mother once, her mother had said weeks before the wolves came. They were sat at opposite ends of the living room. Her mother was reading a book. She was doing a puzzle. The TV was on, background noise soft in her head. I asked her why she was worshipped as goddess of the depths, when she was already titled as goddess of the sea and salt water. Surely, the sea included the depths. Why the specification?

She did not respond. It was unnecessary for her mother. Whenever someone spoke of how long it took for her to first speak, her mother simply rolled her eyes and told them that her daughter took after her father. Speaking was not important to him. Of course it would be unimportant to her.

He drowned me, she said, her mother went on. It is what the ocean does. If it loves you, it will keep you. She was once sunlight and warm, but then she took his hand and he dragged her down to darkness and crushing pressure.

Her mother had laughed. It was a melodic sound, one of the few things that let her feel. According to her mother, her father felt the same way about his lover's laugh. A recluse by nature, his children were fewer than others, and only ever born to those who could ignite something in him. He didn't need to know what the feeling was. He just had to know he was feeling.

Did he want to drown you? she had asked.

Her mother snorted. No. If he had, I would have run. Drowning is death, my little guppy. When you find what you love, you will kill them to keep them. When you find what you hate, you will kill them to make them go away.

She had pushed a piece into place and considered her mother's laugh. Can I drown you?

Not yet, guppy, her mother said. But one day, you may.

She knows that Percy does not want to drown her. He does not covet her the way their father covets their step-mother, the way the ocean clings to skin even as people surface and depart across warm sand. He wants her to live because he is fresh water survival and miraculous rains in the heat of summer. For that, he cares.

The ocean is an uncaring thing. It drowns what it wants, even if those who drown, who are dragged to the depths where the world is frozen and dark and crushing, fight valiantly, fight desperately. It kills without mercy. It doesn't care if you suffer in the choke of water in gasping lungs, in the slow sink of vessels, in the salty residue and reflective surface that burns skin under the light of the sun as they float aimless across the waves.

With the bursting kill, the bloody residue, Percy is one step closer to understanding that.

"Did you know they still feel things?" she asks. She pulls the blood from her face and lets it splatter against the mess in front of Percy. "They don't truly die until they are fully dust, and have returned to Tartarus."

He twitches at her words. But he doesn't grimace the way the others had when the daughter of Mors told their group the same thing. He isn't destroyed by her words.

He sighs, a little sad. "Sucks for them."

She thinks that if she were normal, she'd smile. The sadness was minimal. Not like her journeying group. They had been disgusted by her actions. Then distressed by what was said afterwards. They told her to keep the kills clean, unless there was no other choice. Even monsters didn't deserve to suffer endlessly, they had said. She didn't understand the point. So what if they suffered? The battle was won quickly. They could carry on.

They had complained about morality. Complained about ethics. Complained about the blood on their clothes.

It was rude. She was not immoral. Although minimal, she has beliefs. Ethics were followed, even if she did not understand the point. Did she not help them when they needed it? Even when their loss would mean nothing to her. And blood was easy to remove. Another thing she helped with despite her indifference to their state of being, pulling blood off their clothes and skin and hair, just as she was doing with Percy.

He scratches the back of his neck when she's done. "It is easier," he says slowly. Even as she begins to walk off, he stays where he is. His eyes are trained on the blood on the ground. "Isn't it?"

"Yes," she says. "Messy, but fast." She shrugs. "And we can remove the mess, so it's inconsequential."

He pulls his eyes away and caps his sword. It slips into his pocket as he jogs to her. "Right." His voice is soft. His gaze is distance, unfocused. His words aren't meant to be heard. Without thought, they are spoken aloud as he finally begins to acknowledge his true nature. "Inconsequential."

Traveling through Tartarus sucks. Both Percy and Annabeth are suffering, but Percy knows their suffering isn't made equal. For starters, Annabeth isn't a child of the Big Three, and is not related to any water deities. Where the river water sucks for both of them, water is water. Relief exists in each gasoline sip. It's disgusting, but in addition to healing his wounds, it wakes him up, gives him a little more energy. Annabeth only becomes tired with every healing but nasty swallow.

But Annabeth doesn't have to struggle with his sister's voice in his ears. With the memories of killing monsters with a firm blast of blood and guts. Once they had been accosted in the street. They drew the monster away into an alley, then Percy reveled in the drench of blood across his skin. There was something invigorating about the wetness.

The homeless man they had woken up when they ran in stared at them in horror. He didn't move or make a sound, but flinched violently when Percy turned and caught sight of him. And for the life of him, Percy couldn't care. He just pulled monster blood off him and carried on.

He was aware, though, that his indifference the man's horror was not the same as his sister's. It was only after his memories came back that he realized. She was Neptune, the cruel and uncaring sea. He was Poseidon, the vicious and tortuous ocean.

She had no emotions. Or rather could not feel them inside her. But where her default was apathy, Percy's was anger. Poseidon had always come across as kind when he and Percy interacted, but Percy knew enough stories about his dad to know he was not the best person. Like Neptune, like his sister, Poseidon didn't care about other people. At least not people that didn't matter to him.

His sister had left him when they closed in on the Bay Area. She didn't say why, but she often didn't give reasons why. She just wished him well, a social rule she had probably memorized, and left.

It was a weird goodbye.

You don't want to drown me, she had said before she left, when they had sat down in the grass of a park to share one final meal together.

He had squinted at her, burger halfway to his mouth. Well, yeah. Why would I?

She stared at him. Her looks always made him feel exposed, as though he was a fish she was cutting open and gutting. Was she seeing things in him? He knew that he could see things in her. She was an open book. A sketchbook though, pages empty. A few of the pages had drawings, marked in pen.

What kind of book did she think of him as? Sometimes he felt like a novel. Middle grade language, and simplified, hinting at harsh topics but never following through, never thinking about them again. Like his want to die, a desire that is rapidly growing the longer they spent in Tartarus. It's harder to push back those thoughts than normal. But even more so, the anger. The rage.

Judging from his sister and himself, that is the difference between Neptune and Poseidon. Neptune is the uncaring sea people speak of. He will drown you, he will let you live, he will float you on a piece of driftwood with no goal in mind. If you fight to live, if you give up and die - it doesn't matter. It means nothing to him. What happens is what happens.

Poseidon is the moody ocean. One minute gentle waves, the next a hurricane. There is no warning. He laughs at toddlers splashing with floaties bigger than their heads and he laughs at drowning passengers fighting to stay afloat in the cold icy waters. He attacks when he's angry, and he can turn angry on a whim. He'll torture you. He'll break you. Then he'll turn soft and happy at the sight of a goldfish in an appropriate tank. People do and don't matter. It depends.

Neptune is without feeling.

Poseidon feels far too much.

The further they walk through the hot painful plains of Tartarus, the more Percy wishes he couldn't feel anything at all. Rage bubbles up in him like a geyser. Annabeth is suffering. It's his fault for not noticing the web, it's the fault of the crew for not helping pull her up. It's the fault of the gods, of the fates, for putting her in this situation after she had already helped save the world the year before.

Anyone else in her cabin could've suffered. It's not like they did as much as she did in the war, suffered as much as she did. Luke was her big brother, her first crush, someone who protected her. She had to watch him change. Had to deal with the constant betrayal. Had to watch him die in front of her.

Why couldn't it have been Malcolm?

Stop, Percy thinks. You're angry, but you're still a good person who doesn't wish harm on other people.

Is he? He doesn't feel like it. After his sister left and he later carried Juno into Camp Jupiter, her influence moved to the back of his mind. It was easy to be good with Hazel and Frank, easy to be good on the ship. But now, with his anger rising fast, the dam holding back the flood creaking under the weight, she was back, echoing in his ear subtle words and reminders.

At the time, he hadn't put much stock into the weird things she said. Now her cryptic montone speech chimes in his brain, like a successful download on a computer. Feel the air, the humidity, she'd say. How does it serve us?

The humidity is a weapon, a threat. The thick water in the air weighs heavy on other people, leaving them sluggish, tired, but keeps him upright and strong. He tries to utilize that one, in the heat of Tartarus, but the exhaustion makes it difficult.

Not all the echoing is useful. Some tempt him to break, to let the dam fall apart. The ocean doesn't hold back. Ships that challenge the sea become crushed beneath its waves. A spill flows as it wants, unbothered by what it leaves behind.

It hurts. He wants to hold back, to let the ships he destroys float on the surface. If he spills, he wants to stay put, be swept up with one swipe of a towel. But does he? The dam holding everything back pushes against his chest, a reminder of the truth.

He doesn't want to hold back anymore. When the Arai came down with their curses, the first slash of their sharp talons against his skin had him wanting to shove them down to the very bottom of the ocean, hoping they stayed alive to suffer as they were crushed into shattered bones and squashed organs. He wants to spill, to flood. To open the dam.

He has morals, he knows the ethics of the world. The rules. But deep inside, his morals are fluid, and the rules don't matter. Nothing does. He feels lawless, beholden to no one and nothing.

Except for the girl stumbling at his side. Except for his mom waiting for him to come home. Except for his best friend pleading for him to stay safe.

They're the only ones that matter.

You don't want to drown me, his sister had said.

He finally understood what she meant.

After this was all over, when the world had righted itself once again, he was going to drown Annabeth, drown Grover, drown his mom. Keep them far below where no one could find them. A protective breathable bubble. Limited space, no way to be out of sight.

In the meantime, the want to drown every threat that approached them is strangling him. He wants every enemy to be obliterated into blood and guts, wants to watch them suffer for even daring to come near them, daring to threaten his girlfriend.

The itch he'd been holding back for years is relentless. Closing in to the front where he cannot escape it. It would be so easy to scratch, he knows it would. But Annabeth. Grover. His mom.

I am a good person, he thinks with gritted teeth as Akhlys argues with Annabeth. The goddess is easy to manipulate. It's not a shock considering her purpose. Still, her agitated shrieks directed at Annabeth makes his blood boil. They need her help. So Percy adds a patch of duct tape to the cracking dam inside him, and repeats, I am a good person.

They follow her warily to the opening of the void of endless night and shadows. The sight of Annabeth withered like a mummified corpse finally exposed to daylight cracks the dam even more. He hastily does his best to apply more tape, caulk, cement paste - what he can to patch up the holes before they leak.

His blood is cold. His stomach turns knots. Dread, despair, distress - it all drips into the threatening waters inside him. The raging waters kiss the edge of the dam with every forceful push of their tides. The threat of a spill burns him.

But he's out of supplies. He can't make the dam higher. He can't patch any more holes.

He grips Annabeth's hand, and makes a joke. It doesn't land as well as he wants. The hole it leaves behind is dug deeper by Akhlys' response, and then again by her cackling betrayal. He wants to run, to keep the dam steady, stay moral, stay ethical, stay good.

But the itch burns now, a rash at the front of his skull. Riptide makes no effect when he slashes at her. His sister's words echo in his ear. The feeling of bursting blood. The ease of it.

Annabeth charges at the goddess, screaming right in her ear. Akhlys startles. Using the distraction, Percy ducks away as best he can. Smoky legs are difficult to maneuver. His sword is useless. Annabeth is faster than him. It's amazing. It's infuriating. It's confusing.

A sea of emotions drip-dropping into the dam. The edge of the dam wets. Little beads of water forms against the concrete. As his mind vibrates ways to defeat the goddess while he's effectively out of commission, Percy trembles.

He yells out uplifting words. Enraged the goddess turns on him. Poison sap flows all around him. The fumes burn his nose. His head turns fuzzy. The itch is the clearest thing left behind. So loud and demanding. The beads of water on the lip of the dam grow bigger.

Water is water, he thinks. The ocean is salt water, but hadn't Percy controlled fresh water before? Controlled lakes, streams, rivers? Controlled blood? Water is liquid. The ocean is liquid.

Poison is liquid.

He had never focused on the water in the monsters. It had just been an explosive burst the first time, and he carried it over each time. Built up the feeling, focused on them, and let go like Mentos in a soda bottle. He hadn't thought much of it. More focused on the complex feelings it left behind. But that's what it was, wasn't it? The water in their bodies, the blood in their veins, the liquid he could sense.

Offhandedly, hs sister had mentioned they could sense water when it was nearby. Sometimes he did, after gym when he was tired, sweaty, and thirsty. His gut pulling him in one direction to his water bottle tucked into his backpack, or the water fountain. But there were background senses. Other gut feelings.

Poseidon is god of the sea. But people see the sea as water, and water is water.

As a crack in the dam forms, chips of concrete falling into the abyss, the growing tide of poison around him stopa. Then violently recoils back towards the goddess. She shrieks and stumbles away, but it encircles her like a cage.

You can't bottle the sea, Percy thinks as he stands. How dare you fucking try.

The goddess chokes on poison fumes. The dam cracks some more. The beads of water on its lip wobble precariously now. They've grown to reach both sides of the dam's concrete lip. His heart hammers as he watch Akhlys gag and crumble to the ground. His sister's voice echoes in his ear. The itch burns.

And finally one droplet wobbles over the edge of the dam and falls down in the abyss.

Everything shatters.

Akhlys suffocates as he pushes her gagged drool back into her mouth and drown her throat. Her dripping nose plugs back up. She claws desperate at her chest. The poison pulls up her thighs and stomach, lancing around her chest. It burns away the fabric of her clothes, leaves behind thick welting wounds.

He gives her a repreive of breath.

Then starts again. Poison flows through veins. It wraps around her lungs, it replaces her golden blood. The ichor flows fast out of her. Distantly he can feel Annabeth grabbing him, can hear her beg him to stop, but the sound of the flood drowns her out.

Why should he stop? Why shouldn't he drown her? Why shouldn't he rake up the water pressure of the blood in her veins and watch her bones be crushed? Why shouldn't he break her bones and destroy her muscles by pulling out the blood inside them? Why shouldn't he fill, her lungs with mucus so each torturous breath he gives her is as painful as the suffocation?

He takes hold of every possible source of liquid, anything that has a speck of water inside her body and turns it on her. The itch quells with every forceful flow of anger out of him. The flood destroys her.

Good. If she wants to be misery so bad, she should know firsthand what suffering feels like.

He doesn't stop, even when it's so clearly over. He toys with her shattered body like a dolphin with a blowfish. But eventually he relaxes. The flood has turned into a gentle trickling stream. The dam begins its rebuilding.

He exhales slowly and turns to Annabeth. Concern hits him fast. To anyone else, it's be emotional whiplash but for him, it's just how he is. As moody and ever shifting as the sea.

Dried tear tracks stain Annabeth's deathly appearance. Even her empty eye sockets are welled with tears. Her hands clench his arms, nails digging into flesh. As he fusses over her, her hands detach slow. Her arms fall limp to her sides. She doesn't flinch or push back when he pulls her in to a tight relieved embrace. She doesn't say anything, even though he can tell there's so much she wants to say about what happened.

But she holds him back just as tight.

Percy clings to that like a lifeline.

#after so many years of trying his best to be his mom's son he still couldn't stop himself from being his father's son #percy jackson #happy's asks #happy talks pjo #my writing #my fanfic #🙌🙌#i kept editing this after i finished it adding removing and i am so tired bc i spent like 3 hours on it already so gonna make myself stop #anyway kisses kisses thanks for the inspo 👍#i do have a name for a daughter of neptune but thats for a diff version i should probably work on again #maybe this girl's name is Coral 🤷‍♂️ oceanic name sounds sweet makes ppl go what the fuck when they meet her in person lmao #glitterytheoristmentality #daughters of neptune

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the-valiant-valkyrie · 6 months

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ok well as promised here they are. assorted solaris headcanons, none of them really relevant to the plot of the game but i stay silly

solaris lost her eye in the death engine incident, but didn't lose it to impalement or 'physical damage' in the conventional sense. the right side of her was tilted towards the shockwave at the time of the explosion, and the force of the ripple ruptured it. her left eye is in tact, thank god, but it sustained some minor damage too. her eyesight was never as good post the incident

speaking of the incident, it really messed up her hearing, too. if you start talking to her while she's turned away from you, she's probably going to need you to repeat what it is you said. so she can listen again while reading your lips this time around

as a result of these two injuries, she experiences both visual and audio hallucinations. really, the former sort of come with the territory of losing an eye- that happens to just about anyone, at least initially. the latter stem more from her zoraxis-induced paranoia than the injury itself though

the radiation from the explosion also cut down her life expectancy by a good margin but really when you're affiliated with zoraxis you're gonna die early anyways. so it's fine.

she didn't mind most of her coworkers, really. obviously she spent the most amount of time working with the fabricator, but what engagement she got from the others was never intolerable. usually.

anna was probably a second favorite of hers, though their niches never crossed particularly often. her defecting is what properly planted the first few seeds of abandoning zoraxis in her mind

… though, granted, solaris is still under the impression that anna didn't… survive her assassination. so. that really dialed her willingness to quit back by a little bit

she wasn't even on earth at the time. didn't even get a chance to say goodbye proper… she can't regret something that wasn't her fault, but…

despite her intimidating air (which she does on purpose, really), she's of the belief that she gels pretty well with the majority of her coworkers

not zor though. she knows full well zor really does not like her. the feeling is mutual.

solaris eats like a horse. especially when she's in the construction phase of any of her projects. she needs a lot of energy to sustain a body that large, you know how it is

she doesn't have enough of a grasp on the concept of labels to label herself (not to mention neither of these terms were coined within her lifetime), but she's a bicurious demiromantic. she would just be bisexual, but she hasn't actually dated a girl before, so at this point in her life she doesn't fully know that yet

…….. what. what are you looking at her like that for. she hasn't.

she got into a fair bit of fights as a kid, though not for any particular reason related to her popularity or lack thereof. she wasn't even really particularly aggressive, she just wasn't allowed to play sports and needed a way to burn off energy

she likes chocolate. milk chocolate especially

she's kind of a movie nut, though explicitly with horror films. while she finds most other genres a little too unengaging for her to enjoy all the way through, horror strings her along through the suspense- and, occasionally, the unintentional comedy- of it all

she's not great at singing (mainly due to her lack of vocal control), but she's a… deceptively good dancer. not great, mind you- not by a long shot- but it's evident she's been taught. you'd never know, though. because she'd never show you.

she's gotten a little bit obsessed with soaking in hot baths ever since she recovered from the death engine. back then, it soothed all the burn wounds. nowadays it just helps loosen up her muscles and such

#ieytd #commander solaris #headcanons #using the colored text to try to break up the bullet points a little #i REALLY hate how squished together tumblr makes them. it clashes so bad with my tendency to talk way too fucking much #anyways i think abt this freak too much can you tell

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scotianostra · 9 months

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On 20th July 1918 near Marfaux, France, Sergeant John Meikle died, he was just 19.

Sergeant Meikle joined the 2/4th Seaforths on the 8th February, 1915, when barely 19 years. He was trained at Bedford, Fort George, and Blair Atholl, being one of the hardy band to cross the Grampians on the long trek between the Fort and the Blair. He went to France on July 30th, 1916, and although wounded on two or three occasions, never seriously, had only been home on furlough, his last leave being in November, 1917, shortly after the battle of Cambrai. He had a high reputation in the battalion throughout, and it was felt that when he got the Military Medal for gallantry in action on September 20, 1917, he had won it well. Sergt Mekle received a gold watch from the people of Nitshill when home on furlough, and was promoted sergeant on returning to France

On 20th July 1918 near Marfaux, France, Sergeant John Meikle died, he was just 19.

John Meikle was one of the many First World War recruits that were so anxious to join up that they lied about their age.

He was just 16 years when he volunteered to go to war by pretending to be 18, the lowest official age for enlistment. One historian has estimated that as many as 250,000 "boy soldiers" under the age of 18 signed up to fight in the Great War.

Three years after he enlisted, Meikle died aged 19 and is thought to be one of the youngest-ever recipients of the Victoria Cross. He is also the only Scottish railway employee to have received this award for valour. Of the 628 crosses awarded during the war, only 25 went to men under 20.

Like so many young men at the start of the war, Meikle was motivated by patriotism to "do his bit" for his country. He attempted to enlist after war broke out in 1914 but was rejected due to his youthful appearance and small stature.

Eventually he was accepted by the Seaforth Highlanders on 8 th February 1915 at Maryhill Barracks. He lied about his age saying he was 18, when in fact he was 16 years and five months old. But even at his pretend age of 18, he had to wait a further year to go to France, as a soldier had to be 19 to fight overseas.

Meikle's personal military service record, along with many others, was destroyed in an air raid during the Second World War. But it is know that on July 30th, 1916, Meikle, who had by now trained as a Lewis (machine-) gunner, was sent to France. He was transferred to the 1/4th Seaforth (Ross Highland) Battalion, fighting in the Battle of the Somme and subsequently rising quickly through the ranks.

He was injured in the 3rd Battle of Ypres in 1917, during which he was awarded the Military Medal for his actions near Langmarch. He was sent home to Glasgow to recover from his injuries.

While in Nitshill in November 1917, he was presented with a gold watch on behalf of his fellow villagers in the local public hall. The watch engraved with his initials remains a treasured family heirloom. When Meikle returned to France, he had been promoted to sergeant.

The Second Battle of the Marne was the turning point for the Allies in the War, and became known as the last great German offensive. By 20 July 1918, Meikle and his unit (No 2 Company, 4th Battalion), were with the 51st Highland Division in the French Aisne-Marne Sector, and would defend the Ardre Valley.

Meikle's comrade, Company Sergeant Major G W Sturrah, (who was only 23 years old himself), in a letter to Meikle's mother Annie, wrote: "It is with the deepest regret that I write to you to inform you of your dear son 200854 Sgt Meikle, J, of his death, (killed in action) on the 20th July. We were on this day attacking a strong enemy position, and your dear lad behaved as gallantly as ever Britisher did. He single handed knocked out an enemy machine gun post and its crew. Knocking out with a walking stick he always used to carry and was afterwards rushing another similar post when he was killed by Machine Gun fire. His death was instantaneous."

After his death, his mother Annie donated accumulated funds from her son's VC pension and soldiers pay to two local churches. The family did not attend the official presentation of John's VC at Buckingham Palace, as they were unable to afford the associated expense of new clothes and accommodation in London. Instead they chose to receive the decoration during a local parade at Maryhill Barracks on 28 October 1918.

#scotland #scottish #history #world war one #victoria cross #bravery #war hero #soldier #teenager

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mysticalibra1994 · 1 year

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My thoughts on the upcoming Sonic movie...

So, this is coming from my personal life so it will come off as a bias.

When I lost my mom from a gran mal during my middle school years, I felt lost. Somehow, I discovered the series "Sonic X" and that was when I came across a character named Shadow the Hedgehog. As I read and got to know more about his past, I've grown attached; he became my first comfort character...

Ever since I began writing fanfictions that relate to Shadow in my composition notebooks; of course, I have gotten in trouble during class... The fanfiction would contain the origins of my fanmade (or OC) character who came across Shadow when he crash-landed nearby her family's home, took him in, tended to his wounds (even though his injuries healed on their own), and their friendship became a bit rocky at the start. But, eventually, their relationship increased naturally.

Their relationship did take a slight/brief pause when Shadow nearly got hit by some kind of weapon, but my OC took the hit instead. As her injuries healed in the hospital, Shadow never left her side; especially when she transformed into a Mobian Cat. As she recovered, she made her choice to live with Shadow on the same planet/universe(?) where Sonic and his friends are from.

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Now, that was from before...

Ever since I saw the Sonic the Hedgehog movies (both 1 and 2), the moment they mentioned "Project Shadow", my ADHD told my hands to "start stimming"!

Then, I decided to make various headcanons, and a select few were related to Dr. Robotnik, Shadow, and Maria... V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V V

On a crisp, cool morning in Green Hills, MT. Rosaline Forrest gets ready to do her morning outings (that she does every day); where she would walk into town for her usual breakfast (which she would order iced tea or hot chocolate, depending on the weather) that consists of hearty keto meals. Then, she would walk into the woods to enjoy being alive... That is until she accidentally got in the middle of a battle with Dr. Robotnik and Sonic (in Super mode), which knocked her unconscious.

As the smoke clears the G.U.N. started doing a sweep, Agent Stone (in disguise) came across Rosaline and informs the others. While she went in and out for a while, she hears a faint voice... She slowly gains consciousness and starts hearing more voices, but not from before. She meets Agent Stone as he sneaks Dr. Robotnik into her room (I assumed that Stone tended to Dr. Robotnik's wounds after they faked his death). Suddenly, Dr. Robotnik felt off... Like he knew her. But, he actually knew "her". After recovering, Rosaline has been given a task; to retrieve the living essence of Project Shadow. Just like before, Shadow grows attached to her. Well, not her, but "her".

Their meeting with the Wachowski's was... a little rocky. It started off smoothly until Sonic mentioned their family name. Shadow suddenly attacks Tom, crying "YOU TOOK HER AWAY!!!" Suddenly, a gun goes off...

It belongs to Tom's dad, Charles Wachowski. Due to how long it's been since he's retired, I would believe that he's about as old-fashioned as "that one relative in our family that claims to be open-minded... until they drink". So, when the group (excluding Shadow for... personal reasons) explains to him what's been going on...

"So, you're telling me that the girl I shot is still around, and is in that girl over there; the one whose hair matches your wife's skin? Ha! I'm sorry, but that's just as impossible as changing genders!"

Meanwhile, Dr. Robotnik is growing irritated about why "she" wouldn't remember him. Despite being loyal to him, Agent Stone would be at his limit and accidentally snap. "Because your cousin's gone! I-I'm sorry, sir. But, with all due respect, living in the past is not healthy." Then, he would notice a shift in the atmosphere... "Alright, let's say that Maria's spirit is around and in that girl (which does explain the flatline). We can't force her to remember the incident that happened 50 years ago." "But," the doctor said, "what if we can! Stone! If my memory is correct, as is, then my late grandfather has some hidden documents that are STILL in the computers of the Space Colony ARK! Momma didn't raise a single-digit IQ and Poppa raised milk and never came back!" "I- Of course, they didn't, Doctor."

Back to the Wachowski residence... Sonic meets Shadow up on the roof, looking up at the stars.

"So, uh... Do you think they'll like the chili dogs?" "Blue Hedgehog, I have more important issues to deal with. "You mean 'Mari'-" "Keep her name out of your mouth, Hedgehog! You have no idea what it's like to lose someone who's close to you." "Her name was Longclaw. I didn't really know my real parents, but she took me in as her own. I passed the hoglet stage when she gave up her life to protect me and the Rings from the Echidnas." "'Echidnas'? You mean like that red one? You two were enemies, yet you're no longer." "Welcome to Earth." "I don't get it." "You've never seen 'Independence Day' starring Will Smith?! What year are you from?" "1974. The location is the Space Colony ARK. I was created by Prof. Robotnik in order to find the cure for Maria's condition. I grew a sibling-like attachment to her. We would talk about everything, mostly about the Earth and when we would visit. But, the GUN wanted to stop the Project. They didn't even explain why. Maria and I saw their weapons and we headed for the escape pods. Suddenly, I felt a push and I- I heard a gun going off. Before I could understand what was going on, I was in the pod and Maria... S-she took th-"

Before Shadow could finish, Sonic stopped him with an embrace; saying that he doesn't have to say anymore...

Meanwhile, at the Space Colony ARK, Agent Stone was growing concerned about Dr. Robotnik's mental health. He understands that Maria was his only family, but at some point, the doctor will have to let her go... Suddenly, something happened. By the time Dr. Robotnik played a video diary of his late grandfather, the timer of the Bio-Lizard goes off.

I-I don't understand! I thought Project Shadow was to protect her and humanity! Why would he-? Dr. Robotnik is... stunned. Too stunned to speak. In his mind, he's rekilling his only family.

"Doctor? What do we do? D-Doctor? Doctor! Ivo!! We have to leave, now!" "B-but, Maria..." "Don't worry, we'll save her. Come on!"

Nobody outside of the Robotnik Family has ever used his first name before. But, if it wasn't for Agent Stone's quick thinking, they would be too late...

As soon as they arrived at the Wachowski residence, they warned the others (of course, Tom's father mentions something homophobic when he saw Agent Stone comforting Dr. Robotnik "like a husband comforts his wife during a panic attack").

"Dad, it's the 21st century! We can marry who we love as long as it's consensual! Plus, I'm not surprised that you find that surprising and not the fact that the world is about to be destroyed!" "Well, of course, it's gonna be destroyed! These two Skittles are in love!" "Dad!"

While the two beings fuss at each other, Tails, Agent Stone, and Dr. Robotnik are working together to find a solution to save the world.

"That may be plausible, but in order to harness that kind of power... It's impossible." "We could use the Chaos Emeralds, but we need the Master Emerald."

When Knuckles hears about this, he hesitates at first; not wanting to give the Master Emerald to anyone who's as evil as Dr. Robotnik. But, when discussing this with Sonic and Shadow. Sonic is all for it, but Shadow...

"Let the world burn. It wasn't there for Maria, why should I help?"

Shadow was about to leave, when Rosaline stops him as she tries to convince him...

"Shadow, please listen to me. What do you think my promise was?" "Y-you..." "Yes, I knew. I've always known. The reason why I never said anything was that I was adjusting to this new timeline. Shadow, yes, I was angry about what happened to me all of those years ago. But, when my soul was wandering throughout the years, I noticed something. Something amazing about this planet and the people who lived on it... Yes, there are bad people out there. But, there are good people out there, too. Like my cousin and his partner, the Wachowskis, and the nice people in this quaint and unique town of Green Hills. My promise to you was, is, and always will be this... For all of the people who live on Earth, give them a chance to be happy. Let them live their dreams."

Everyone around them gave them a moment when Agent Stone notice Shadow's eyes begin welling up with tears. Rosaline gently pulls him in for an embrace of a lifetime.

"Shadow, I know you can do it. That's the reason why you were brought into this world."

After wiping his eyes, Shadow accepts the offer and thanks her for those kind words. Tom and Maddie offer to watch over Rosaline as the others (except Tom's dad... for obvious reasons) work together as they make it to the ARK.

At the ARK, Knuckles allow Sonic and Shadow to harness the power of the Chaos Emeralds to become Super Sonic and Super Shadow. As the two Super hedgehogs try to use the power of the Chaos Emeralds to Chaos Control the Bioweapon, the one and only thing that him Shadow going is Maria. He notices that Sonic is slowly getting a bit winded, so he takes over, removes his Inhibitor Rings, and delivers the final "CHAOS... CONTROL!!!!!"

He did it... The world is saved! Sonic turns to thank Shadow, but he notices that the energy from the fight has been depleted from Shadow and his light-golden quills turn black. As Shadow falls, he notices that Sonic is reaching out for him. The fading black hedgehog bats Sonic's hand away. As he continues falling, Shadow only had one thought before becoming unconscious...

"Maria... this is what you wanted, right? This is the promise I made to you..."

The rest of the group is patiently waiting for their return. Even Dr. Robotnik is hold Agent Stone's hand; he lies and claims it's for the nerves. Sonic is back! They all congratulate him, even Dr. Robotnik and Agent Stone. Of course, the doctor wonders where Shadow is. Sonic answers with a saddened: "He gave his life for all of us."

The group is shocked with melancholy. Agent Stone and Dr. Robotnik talk about this as they looked out the bay window.

"This place... I remember seeing her looking out through this window with him. I would visit as often as I could." "Doctor, I-" "It's alright, you can call me 'Ivo'." "I- Ivo, I'm sorry for what I said related to Maria. I was just worried about you and your mental state. Ever since you ended up on the mushroom planet, I felt... lost without you. I-I know that you said that you wouldn't miss me when I'm gone, but I-" "Hush, Stone. I know."

After they say their final words, they make their way back to Earth. Dr. Robotnik sends Rosaline his condolences as Sonic hands her one of Shadow's Inhibitor Rings.

"Rosaline... Maria..." Agent Stone grievingly said, "If it counts, he fought bravely along with Sonic."

Before Rosaline could say anything, the group collectively felt a chill down their spines when they hear the spirit of Maria saying this before she parted ways...

"Thank you all for saving this planet..."

Then, Rosaline loses consciousness, but Dr. Robotnik catches her before she makes an impact. She awakes in the hospital. This time, she's surrounded by the Wachowskis, Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Dr. Robotnik, and Agent Stone. When asked how she's still alive, Agent Stone answered by saying that when the flatline happened, he grabbed a "soul jar" to contain Rosaline's soul when Maria's soul slipped in. Rosaline thanks him as she makes a full recovery.

After being released from the hospital, Rosaline chose to stay with the Wachowskis... as they prepare a wedding for Dr. Robotnik and Agent Stone. It wasn't certain which one proposed to who; Agent Stone went down on one knee, and Dr. Robotnik claimed that he thought about it first. During the "big damn kiss", Rosaline caught a glimpse of Maria's smiling spirit.

After the wedding, Rosaline watches a movie with Jojo. Then all of a sudden, they heard a medium-sized boom-like thud. When they went outside (to the backyard) to check, they came across a medium-sized hole in the yard. After investigating the crash, Rosaline tells Jojo to get the First-Aid kit as she carefully pulls out a familiar-looking black hedgehog out of the small crater.

While Rosaline tends to his wounds (again, it was unnecessary due to his wound slowly regenerating, but she didn't know), Shadow slowly comes to. Before the movie ends, it wasn't certain whether he remembers her or remembers "her". All that we know for certain is that he smiled the moment their eyes met.

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

Well, what do you guys think?

I'd like to believe that Rosaline would help Shadow with his memories as best as she can (with a little help from Maria's spirit that visits when needed).

As for the "after credits scene", I'd like to believe that a familiar-looking futuristic hedgehog jumps out of the portal, notices Sonic and goes... "I finally found him, the Iblis Trigger."

#oc #sonic movie 3 #headcanon/theory #Donut Lord #Pretzel Lady #Shadow The Hedgehog #Stobotnik #Maria Robotnik #After Credits scene(?)#Silver the Hedgehog

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pikahlua · 2 years

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Hello! What are your predictions for leaks this week? I love hearing your thoughts about the final arc of the manga and where you think we will be going. Do you think Edgeshot patching bakugo's heart is going to work? Do you think we are getting a POV switch? Edgeshot's backstory?

I don't have anything like predictions for any particular incoming chapter because at any moment Horikoshi could decide to switch to another perspective, right? But as for thoughts on the current goings-on, I think there's quite a bit about Katsuki's predicament that's (purposefully) unanswered. Regardless of what Edgeshot does, Katsuki's got a gaping chest wound and a lot of blood loss--not that that's ever stopped an anime character before, but it's not likely he'll just immediately hop to his feet unless a random quirk bizarrely revitalizes him. I imagine he's down for a bit until some other story beat where he recovers enough energy to act again. You know...kinda how it went down in the previous war arc lol. Gotta give some other characters their time to shine for a bit.

That said, if the story is properly foreshadowing anything, it's not unreasonable to suspect we could get something relevant to any recently highlighted characters: Edgeshot, Best Jeanist, any of the Big Three, All Might, S&S, and the Second User are all contenders. We're also probably looking at a potential entrance sometime soon for Gentle Criminal and La Brava (god I hope we get that, I'd fucking kill for some AFO vs Gentle banter). And let us not forget that Iida is conspicuously due for a spotlight moment sometime soon, or that we haven't cut to the Octo Island battlefield in a while.

And I guess Izuku's hanging out over the ocean somewhere. Actually, given the implied timeline of what's going on, it's likely Yoichi's weird premonition syncs up with both AFO's self-destructive rewind AND Katsuki's near-death. Chronologically, it could make sense to switch over to him for at least a few frames sometime soon.

Regardless of the POV logistics, I think the most important thing we are meant to pay attention to this time are two heavily-displayed themes from recent chapters.

1. The torch

That’s what I’m calling All Might’s vestige in my head at this point. I think there’s something conspicuously different about his design that we as a fandom have generally neglected to key into. He’s a bit of a mystery and has the potential to be something more than just a wordless vestige. I think he’s likely tied into the concepts we’ve seen before with Stain in Kamino (the torch passed from All Might to those he inspired) and most recently with the generational torch-passing from All Might to Star(s) & Stripe(s) to [insert the next generation here]. Heck, even AFO’s “baton of dreams” passed to Tomura invokes this concept to some degree. This all looks eerily similar to the chain of One For All this last year’s worth of chapters have constantly referenced. I’m curious if the All Might vestige Katsuki saw in “death” may actually have very little to do with One For All in the end.

2. Invaders and defenders

AFO’s little speech about how villains = invaders/attackers and heroes = protectors/defenders is enormously suspicious in its placement--in that it comes just after Katsuki’s supposed death. His philosophical speech is conveniently contradicted by Katsuki’s existence, so for him to ramble about this essentially over Katsuki’s dead body is kind of heavy-handed. If AFO’s determinations about villains and heroes are correct, where does that place Katsuki, the heroic attacker? Or Twice, the villainous protector? How does AFO get away with ignoring the behavior of Star(s) & Stripe(s), Hawks, and the HPSC? Edgeshot literally invading Katsuki’s body to keep him alive feels like a direct answer to AFO’s demonstrably wrong oversimplifications. Are the lines between villains and heroes that AFO has arbitrarily drawn being blurred? Are their respective roles changing? Is AFO’s philosophy just that wrong from the outset? Wouldn’t saving Tenko entail some similar sort of attack/invasion that AFO’s possession represents?

I don’t know where Horikoshi is going to take this point, but I think Katsuki has so obviously represented the exact opposite of what AFO is talking about here that he has to come into play regarding this somehow before this is all over. And maybe All Might will too. And Izuku.

#ask pika #anon ask #my hero academia manga spoilers

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ofwishfulthinking · 1 year

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if you’re hearing DEMONS by IMAGINE DRAGONS playing, you have to know MALACHI DUBOIS (HE/HIM; CISGENDER MAN) is near by! the 43 year old has been in denver for, like, FIFTEEN YEARS. they’re known to be quite WITHDRAWN, but being COMPASSIONATE seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble RICKY WHITTLE. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those THE CLOYING TASTE OF GUILT ON THE BACK OF YOUR THROAT, THE FEELING OF TRYING TO CATCH YOUR BREATH AFTER EXERCISING, and BACKWARDS BASEBALL CAPS vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the WASHINGTON PARK long enough!

details (military, war, death tw)

Ariana Dubois was seventeen when she fell pregnant. Perhaps this wouldn’t have mattered if she’d been anyone was else, but as the only daughter of an upper class family, there were appearances to upkeep. Ariana never did confess the name of her son’s father but when he was born, it was clear that his father was not someone the Dubois parents would approve of.

Malachi Dubois was a quiet child. He suffered from a stutter in his early childhood, further proof of his flawed status. His grandparents hated him for what he represented – the ruination of all of the plans they’d had for their only daughter – but Ariana loved her son with all of her heart.

Growing up, Malachi hated everything about his life. He was the only biracial child at his school, a fact that the older boys used to torment him daily. Coming home was no better. His grandparents enrolled him in pointless activities just to get him out of the house… They never truly recovered from the scandal that was his birth, and never ceased to make him know just how much he’d ruined their lives.

When he was 15, Malachi was caught with a group of boys from the other side of town. They were everything his family was not – lower class, rough around the edges, and accepting of him – and he loved them. It was his idea to vandalize the private school he attended. It wasn’t supposed to be anything too serious, just a bit of graffiti. When they were caught, Malachi got off with a stern warning due to his grandparent’s influence. His friends did not fair as well.

Shortly after his 18th birthday, Malachi's mother died. Having no other family to speak of, Malachi enlisted in the army. It was something he’d mulled over for years, but after his mother’s death, he realized that there was nothing tying him to his previous life anymore. He hadn’t made anything of himself and so far, all he’d managed to do was cast a shadow over his grandparents’ legacy.

While serving overseas, the Humvee that Malachi was in was hit by an IED. He was shipped home shortly after, a shell of a man. The wounds healed, but the scars ran deeper than the physical. He couldn’t sleep. He had so much anger in him that he couldn’t even recognize himself anymore.

It was then that Malachi moved to Colorado. In the time that he'd been away, both of his grandparents had passed and Malachi had inherited their wealth, but was determined not to use it.

It's been nearly two decades since he's lived in Colorado. The state has been kind to him. His PTSD is well-managed, he currently owns his own gym where he works as a personal trainer, and he's the proud dad of a German Shepherd named Athena.

potential connections:

friends

romantic things (f/m/nb)

fellow dog owners

vegas spouse (WC on main)

half siblings (WC on main)

employees

#malachi.#chq;intro #malachi (intro.)#death tw #military tw #war tw

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ayamari-no-goshi · 2 years

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Chasing Shadows (6)

AO3 -> first, last, next

Fandoms: Danny Phantom (DP) / DC universe

Summary: THIS IS A CROSSOVER. As Bruce Wayne begins to slowly recover from the loss of his son, two separate mysteries open up old wounds. Who is the unknown leaving clues hinting at a return to Gotham, and who is the phantom pretending to be his lost son? Is it just a coincidence they’re active in Gotham at the same time? Or are they connected?

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, and questionable mental health

Parings: none

Notes: originally uploaded to AO3. Cross-posted to tumblr

Stephanie was not going to cry. She wasn’t. Well, maybe she would after she was out of her current predicament and away from the prying eyes of the asshole known as Batman. Seriously, why was she trying to prove her worth to the man? Wait, it’s because he was freaking Batman, that’s why.

She just wanted to set up a situation that would show him her competence and that she was just as capable as Tim, or Dick, or Cass. It was never her intention to cause a city-wide gang war that threatened to take everyone and thing with it. That’s what she got for deciding to use one of Batman’s own contingency plans. For someone who made plans for everything, he liked leaving out important details like that the so-called crime boss Matches Malone, who was super important to making this plan work, was just one of his aliases. So now, there was a massive power vacuum in the city during to most of the organized crime losing their heads and some of the lieutenants because she enacted that plan.

Even though Batman didn’t want to see her back on the streets, she had to do something. It was her fault this happened, and she needed to do something to help get things back under control. Sure, Batman, Nightwing, and Batgirl were doing their best. Catwoman and some other acquaintances were assisting too. Even Tim had been forced out of retirement and had taken up the Robin mantle again. Surprisingly, Phantom hadn’t shown himself to any of them, but they did have reports he was trying to keep the fighting away from some of the hospitals.

That didn’t matter right now. What did matter was finding Orpheus.

Orpheus was a newer vigilante in Gotham. Bruce did something to help get him trusted by the various gangs in the city, and since they couldn’t use the Matches Malone persona to get things under control, they were going to attempt to use Orpheus as a figurehead for the gangs instead. If all went well, it would stop the gang war. But, he’d gone worryingly dark, and Steph had made it her mission to find him. It was the least she could do to help fix things.

And that’s how she found her way into a trap. She managed to find Orpheus in one of his few safe houses (conveniently supplied by Bruce). For a brief moment, she thought everything would be okay as she began explaining what he needed to do. But something caught his attention, and she barely had time to respond when her world went temporarily black.

Coming to with a pounding headache, she found herself restrained on a chair with the villain known as Black Mask paced in front of her. With the exception of occasionally dealing with his organization, the False Face Society, she hadn’t personally met him before, but his appearance was unmistakable. Due to a fire he set when he first came on the scene, his face now looked like a blackened skull mask. He’d been slowly regaining power in the organized crime world of Gotham since his escape from Arkham. He was known to be ruthless with a penchant for torture which wouldn’t make her situation better.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good. I need to have a little chat with you, Girly.” He moved closer so she was forced to look at him. His putrid breath made her eyes water. “I know the Bat has some sort of plan to get this godforsaken mess under control. I was gonna ask that associate of yours, but he put up too much resistance.” His gaze moved to the side where Orpheus laid unmoving on the floor in a pool of blood. The ashy color to his skin suggested he was already dead.

This was all her fault. Not only did she set up the meeting that led to this war, now the guy they needed for being able to stop the needless bloodshed was gone.

What was she going to tell Bruce?

Why was she even thinking about that? She was currently bound to a chair by a madman and escaping intact needed to be her priority. Taking stock of her surroundings, she noticed that there was one door with light filtering underneath it. Moving shadows suggested there were people guarding the door. There was one window large enough for her to escape out of. Thankfully, it just looked closed as opposed to boarded shut. If needed, she could just break through it. Good. Now she just needed to get out of the restraints which thankfully just seemed to be rope.

Let’s see. Did he remove the hidden blade she kept in her gloves for this very reason? No? Good. Now, she just needed to grab it and cut the ropes while not cluing him into what she was doing. Easy enough.

Moving to the lone table in the room, Black Mask placed a briefcase that had been leaning against it on top of it. With a rather loud click, it popped open, and he began removing things such as a revolver, a hammer, a white mask, and what appeared to be an electric screwdriver. That one made her a little nervous.

“Nice, aren’t they?” Mask had noticed her watching him. “Just like you Bats, I like to be prepared when I ply my trade. You never know what you might need when you need to make someone talk.”

“Funny, that’s just what I was thinking.” The new mechanical voice seemed to come from the shadows.

Mask grabbed the revolver off the table and pointed it towards where he thought the voice came from. “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t particularly like being interrupted. So, I’ll give you the count of five to show yourself. One… Five.” He fired and put a hole in the wall, but there was no sign he hit anyone.

“Put that down before you hurt yourself with it.” The voice warned as someone emerged from the darkness in the same place where Mask shot. His red helmet glinted dangerously in the dim light: the Red Hood.

This situation just went from bad to worse. They had some reports he’d been dispatching any gang members who dared approach Crime Alley during the war. Once the gangs got the message to avoid the area, they started getting reports of him appearing in other areas of Gotham and doing the same thing. They even suspected he may have been the sniper who assisted Bruce and Cass during the assault on Tim’s school that caused him to come out of retirement. He seemed to have strict morals regarding who he would and wouldn’t attack as he only seemed to kill people who were known killers, traffickers, or high-ranking drug dealers. If they didn’t have those crimes, he tended to just knock out or incapacitate them. He was especially lenient with kids and teens.

Hopefully, that meant that he would help her escape. But with his unknown issues with Batman being enough that he harmed Tim, she wasn’t sure if he’d help Black Mask or not.

“And just who might you be?” Mask snapped as he pointed the gun at Hood. “Oh wait, I don’t really care.”

Hood made a noise which almost sounded like a scoff as he seemed to vanish back into the shadows. Panicked, Mask fired a few more shots without hitting anything.

“Enough of that.” Mask froze as Hood wrapped his arm around his neck from behind and held an unusual blade up to his throat. Was it a kris? Steph noted that Hood’s sleeves were rolled up and didn’t seem to have those strange markings Nightwing’s video of him showed. Had that been a temporary thing? Or was there something more to it? “I’m going to give you one warning. Go after Bats all you want, but the kids are off limit.”

“And just why should I listen to a nobody like you?” Mask hissed at him. “I can have dozens of men in here in an instant to kill you.”

“Go ahead and try.” Even through the helmet, Hood seemed amused. “You’ll find that they’re currently indisposed. But even if you decide I’m bluffing, do you really want to be caught in the crosshairs?” When Mask stopped struggling, Hood snickered. “That’s what I thought. As part of our little deal…”

“What deal?”

Hood pushed the knife a little more into Mask’s throat. “You leave the kids alone, and I don’t brutally murder you. That kind of deal.” Hood’s shoulders shook as if he was silently laughing. “Anyways, maybe I should give you some info about Batman as a show of good faith. I mean, Hush seemed to appreciate some of the information I provided him.”

“You’re the informant the Riddle mentioned?” The words slipped out before she could stop herself. They had no idea how much he knew about Bruce’s operations as Batman and personal life, but it seemed to be extensive. This was bad. Just how much damage could this man simply by selling that?

Hood glanced at her. Well, at least he seemed to. God, she wished he’d take off the damn helmet.

“I almost forgot we had an audience. Dove, can you get her to safety?” he seemed to ask the air.

“Can you seriously stop calling me that?” The sound of the disembodied voice made her jump. She briefly noted the air around her seemed to chill before it felt as if she was doused in ice water. The next thing she knew she was on the ground outside with Phantom worriedly floating beside her.

…

Bruce had been in the middle of reviewing the current situation on the streets with Dick, Tim, and Cass while Barbara chimed in from the comms when Stephanie hesitantly walked into the cave. Bruises covered her face, but other than those and the exhaustion seen in her shoulders, she seemed otherwise okay. She carried a paper bag which appeared to have something substantial within it.

“Steph, what happened?” Tim questioned as he and the others went to go help her. After Dick gently took the bag from her, double checked what it was, and placed it on one of the work benches, Tim and Cass supported her as they led her to the Med Bay.

“Black Mask happened. Batman,” she directly looked at him as her voice wavered with emotion, “he killed Orpheus.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Slit throat. Mask confirmed it, and I saw the body when I came to.”

Anger and frustration momentarily filled Bruce’s mind. He needed Orpheus to be able to stop this mess, and now that he was dead, everything they could do to help salvage the situation fell to pieces. Why was she even there with him? Was she the one who led Mask to Orpheus? But at the same time, he was glad she appeared to be okay. Sure, she wasn’t his, but he did care for her, even if he didn’t think she was currently good enough to be on the streets.

“When you came to? What happened?” Dick asked her while Alfred appeared and ran a diagnostic on her to check for hidden injuries before treating her.

Her lip quivered for a moment before she explained how Black Mask tied her up in hopes of getting information out of her. That was concerning. Sionis was well known for torturing people, but she didn’t appear to be severely injured. That was explained as she revealed that Red Hood appeared from the shadows and kept him at bay while Phantom helped her escape.

“I don’t understand, why would Red Hood help you?” Dick tilted his head in confusion. His own interaction with the man had greatly troubled him.

“Hood warned Mask not to harm me or any of the other kids,” she huffed in insult at the word, “helping Batman. When I demanded answers from Phantom about why he was working with that man, he said something strange. I don’t know if it was a slip or not. He said that ‘Hood would rather die again then let another teen hero die.’”

His eldest shared a look with Tim. Odd. Bruce knew they were investigating something on their own regarding Hood, even after Tim temporarily stepped down from the Robin mantle. That look must have something to do with their research. “Phantom joked with him not to die again when I eavesdropped on their conversation,” he explained slowly. “I hate to say it, but maybe both of them did have at least a brush with death.”

“It just doesn’t make sense. He clearly had an issue with Tim, but he came to my rescue?”

“I think he has more of an issue with Bruce than me,” Tim explained while tapping his arm as Alfred gently tended to Stephanie’s wounds. “Whatever it is, it’s bad enough for him to ignore his own morals.”

“Perhaps.” Bruce wasn’t so sure of that, but at least the man helped save one of their own this time around. It also continued to surprise him that Phantom would continue to willingly work with him. There was just something about their relationship they were missing. “Did you get anything else from Hood or Phantom.”

She shook her head. “Other than Hood confirmed he was Hush’s informant, no.”

“That man has a lot of information he shouldn’t have,” Babs murmured from over the coms. “I haven’t found any evidence of tampering in our systems. Bruce, I know it’s unlikely, but with Phantom being able to pass through walls, is it possible he managed to get into the cave?”

“I have considered that,” Bruce acknowledged. “However, I haven’t received any notifications on our security regarding Phantom’s unusual heat signature or anyone appearing from a place they shouldn’t. It doesn’t rule out the possibility, but it does seem unlikely at this point.”

A quiet rustling sound interrupted them. All of them glanced over to find Cass peeking inside the bag Stephanie brought in. “Plants? From Red Hood?”

“I almost forgot about that. Phantom told me to take it.” Stephanie made a face. “It’s pretty hefty, and I briefly thought it was a severed head. Phantom seemed offended by the idea. Though I’m not sure if that’s because I thought he’d give me a severed head or that Hood would have done that.”

“We might as well take a look,” Dick suggested. “It’s not like we’re making any breakthroughs with the current situation.”

As much as he didn’t like it, his son made a point. Besides, the temporary distraction might give him the needed break to be able to look at the war with fresh eyes once he returned to it.

Moving to the table, the others crowded around as he opened the bag and placed the contents on the table. What he found was an unusual plant with single stalk and large bulb that had six vines of another plant wrapped around it. The vines appeared to be morning glory, but he wasn’t sure of what the other one was. A piece of paper was tucked in between the vines which had written in typed letters, “Looks like you’re trapped between a rock and a hard place.”

Hood’s sense of humor wasn’t appreciated.

“I haven’t seen one of those in a long time,” Dick murmured before gesturing to the plant with the bulb. “I haven’t really seen them in the US, but they’re common in parts of the Mediterranean. It’s a Sea Squirt.”

Bruce hummed for a moment. The note most likely referenced the part in “The Odyssey” where Odysseus had to sail between the monsters Scylla and Charybdis, but these plants were more puzzling to him. After a few minutes of research, he found his answer.

Morning Glories were also sometimes referred to as a Messina Creeper, and the Strait of Messina has been put forth as the historical location of where the monsters lived due to a known whirlpool in the area. Hood must have decided its vines would nicely reference Scylla especially because the plant was also sometimes considered a symbol of life, death, and mortality.

The other plant, the Sea Squirt, almost made him chuckle. One of its many names was Charybdis Maritima which explained why he would have chosen it. But Bruce was surprised to find that the plant was sometimes used as a ward for evil spirits.

There was one other surprise waiting for them. When Bruce gently lifted the plants to double check if Hood might have made a mistake and left some sort of trace clue on it, he found another piece of paper gently tucked into the vines of the Morning Glory. Unfurling it, he found it was a note addressed to his alter ego of Matches Malone:

“Malone, will tell Mask Orpheus was your lynch pin. Will try to convince him to impersonate Orpheus and rally the gangs. Use it to end this. Too many innocents involved.”

Was it just a coincidence? Or did Hood know what Bruce’s plans were supposed to be? There was a good chance the latter was true. However, there was also a chance he was lying to Mask to gain a bit of rapport with him for the moment. Bruce was going to have to not only up the security on his systems, but also review all security for any signs they might have missed.

“Stephanie, are you absolutely certain Orpheus was killed?” he turned to see the teen nervously standing behind Cass. When she nodded, he ran a hand over his face. “For now, keep an ear out for any reports of him. If Hood’s note is truthful, there’s a chance we can use that to turn this around.”

“Wait, you’re not going to just believe this guy?”

Bruce understood Barbara’s outrage. This man had been playing with them for months and had a growing body count. However, between the amicable relationship between the helpful Phantom and his almost desperate attempts to keep Crime Alley safe from more destructive crime, it wasn’t a stretch to think he did indeed want the war to end as quickly as possible.

“But if he’s being honest, this might give us the edge we need.” Dick seemed to choose his words carefully.

“Agreed. For now, we will work under the assumption things will continue the way they currently are. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything we might be able to use to get things under control,” Bruce instructed as he watched his kids and Stephanie interact. He’d been lucky today. As much as he hated to admit it, he owed Red Hood for keeping Stephanie safe.

…

It turned out, Red Hood had seemingly held up his promise. Someone posing as a very convincing Orpheus approached Bruce in the following days. However, thanks to Stephanie’s information, he knew to be vigilant for any signs it could be an imposter, and there were a couple very slight but telling slips. This was exactly what they needed to finally finish the war that ravaged Gotham.

After telling the imposter he was planning on getting what was let of the gangs into Robinson Park and place Orpheus at the led, he left the man and contacted the GCPD to start herding the groups in that direction. Even knowing that Black Mask was setting up a trap, the situation was still risky. He would need an extraction, so everyone would be on standby to make sure things went smoothly.

At the appointed time, he met up with the imposter. Through the coms, he knew everyone, including the GCPD, were in place to end this. Before there was a chance for him to get surrounded, Bruce sprung the trap and revealed it truly was Black Mask under the guise. As predicted, he tried to get the gangs to rally and attack him, but Dick did his part and managed to race in on one of his cycles and extract him before the GCPD started pelting the gangs with rubber bullets.

He had hoped that the GCPD would just stick to the rubber bullets, but at the urging of one of the captains, some switched to real ones, killing several of the criminals. It hurt. This was done specifically to try to end the bloodshed, but he should have known better. However, some of the better funded gangs started fighting back and managed to break through the police blockade. He knew that would happen and instructed the others, including Selena, who had offered to help, to take a couple of the different neighborhoods and capture the ones the police could not.

For the first time in days, Bruce believed there was hope on the horizon. At the same time, he couldn’t help feel as if this war wouldn’t end without at least one more damaging blow.

=====================

Notes:

Trying to work with the War Games arc in the comics is a pain. And I actually didn't know this until I was doing research, but Black Mask is a master of disguise. I mean... his family did own a cosmetic company... which he burned down. He had a habit of doing that.

With that out of the way, here's the Odyssey clue for stop 10: Scylla and Charybdis

Scylla is a monster with 6 heads who was once a beautiful woman - transformed by a jealous Circe into a monster. She lives in the rocks overlooking where Charybdis lived, chained to the bottom of the sea sucking in water and everything else while awake creating a massive whirlpool. This area, believed to be the Strait of Messina, is lined with rocky cliffs and to pass through the area either you lost everything if you strayed too near to Charybdis or lost 6 men to Scylla.

Why didn't they just go around? Well, the other way was to go through the Clashing Rocks (Symplegades) and Wandering/Roving Rocks (Planctae) which had only ever been passed successfully through once, and that was by Jason and the Argonauts, and their ship, the Argo, was still damaged in the process.

Anyways... this section of the Odyssey is believed to be a possible origin for the phrase "between a rock and a hard place." There is debate that this might have actually originated with a mine dispute in the southwestern USA, but semantics.

For the plants, firstly, the morning glory is sometimes also called the Messina Creeper. And, as we know, since it's a vine, it can have multiple arms which I'm using to represent the heads of Scylla here. Also, the plant can represent life, death, mortality, and love in vain which continues the life/death/undeath trend with the plants I've chosen.

The sea squill is a fun plant with a huge freaking bulb. It has a few scientific names, including Charybdis Maritima. How could I not use it? They do grow in Greece and interestingly, it's been used as a ward for evil spirits as well as a rat poison

#Chasing Shadows #Danny Phantom #DP #DPxDC #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #DP crossover #DP au #Odyssey AU #danny phantom crossover

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