Apparently Funtime Freddy has a claw ala Baby and F. Foxy has something to anchor victims in place. Pretty grim.

Transformers Medical Analysis Essay: What are Cybertronians Made Of? [Part One: Nanites and Human Equivalents]

This is gonna be long, for which I apologise. 

PLEASE NOTE: We will be discussing some actual real world blood stuff here; Nothing gross, just some basics to provide a human comparison for the Cybertronian stuff, and I have used my own blood test results below to help explain these comparisons to you. If you might find any real world medical content gross or potentially upsetting, please skip this post, as I don’t want to upset anyone! <3 

Here we go!

What Cybertronians Are Made Of, Part One: Nanites 

Nanites are mentioned throughout various TF media and franchises, although they seem to differ mildly between each application/description somewhat. 

This makes nanites a good starting point, as we know that at least all Cybertronians/Camiens/etc. have some kind of self-repair function, and this is stated to be either nanites or a multi-system function that includes nanites as a key part of maintaining health and wellbeing. 

In Beast Wars, we get the most detail on certain medical and physiological aspects of nanites, with the nanites inherent to the composition of a Cybertronian body providing part of the basic structure of the protoform, as well as displaying the ability to undergo mutation (similar somewhat to human cell mutations) which allow for the process of Transmetalisation. 

Nanites seem to have many significant functions in the Cybertronian body across multiple TF franchise canons, from being a fundamental construction element, to functioning like human stem cells, to behaving as an immune system in the capacity of self-repair nanites. 

We will focus specifically on self-repair nanites here, as it is sometimes implied in different TF canons that there may be multiple types of nanites present in the Cybertronian body. 

Comparing Self-Repair Nanites to a Human Equivalent: Full Blood Count

We can reasonably compare Cybertronian nanites to human cells, as we can think of these nanites as serving the same purpose as several different cell types in human bodies. 

In regards to Cybertronian self-repair nanites, the most obvious human comparisons would be immune system cells/proteins like macrophages, lymphocytes, mast cells, and Cytokines. 

Five types of white blood cells/leukocytes will appear in the blood generally speaking, and you can see these listed on any Full Blood Count (FBC) blood test. 

To illustrate this, I actually just recently did a few blood test panels on myself, so I have included my own FBC results for you to check out here: 

The five blood test results I want you to focus on are the following, which are the white blood cells I marked in orange/red above: 

Neutrophils

Lymphocytes (B and T Cells)

Monocytes 

Eosinophils

Basophils 

(You might notice that I have a few mildly OOR (out of range) results above; This is because I have Haemoglobin Barts and I am also undergoing HRT, so please don’t be too concerned!)

If any of these results are elevated (high/out of range on the upper end), it can help indicate all kinds of things, from whether or not you’ve had an infection or cold/flu recently, to being used as part of identifying possible autoimmune disorders in conjunction with other more specific tests like an Antinuclear Antibody (ANA) blood test as part of diagnostics for Lupus or Sjogren’s Syndrome, among other conditions. 

We can safely assume that self-repair nanites may be similarly used as part of certain Cybertronian medical diagnostic processes; We will probably only be able to verify this in canon once Hasbro finally listens to me and gives us a Med Bay focused series.

Note for any of you who might be non-clinical medical staff dealing with blood results: Basophils have a tendency to essentially self-destruct in a blood sample that has taken a little longer than usual to get processed in the lab, so don’t freak out immediately if this result appears out of range at first. Remember to check the time the sample was drawn and compare it to the time the sample was actually processed! Obviously, raise it as a potential concern anyway, if you are unsure. 

Why This is Relevant to Cybertronian Medicine and Physiology: Mechanical Lifeforms Are Complex, But in Some Ways, Not Really (Compared to Humans)

Just like human beings have our various immune system cells and proteins, Cybertronians clearly have self-repair nanites as a way to carry out some degree of constant natural defence against both casual and serious damage. 

HOWEVER. 

Whereas humans generally have the five primary white blood cell types which are the “usual” ones we check for in fairly routine blood tests like Full Blood Counts, it seems that Cybertronians have one universal primary white blood cell equivalent (self-repair nanites) that serve the functions of various immune system cells and proteins in human bodies.

To use computer engineering phrasing in reference to human functions, this is (to some degree) essentially biological built-in triple modular redundancy. Multiple types of cells within the immune system in humans all help individually and collectively to identify, locate, track, capture, learn about, and eliminate contaminants or foreign entities like bacteria, among other functions. 

Cybertronians, however, are extremely physically complex in other ways, but their basic structure and core components seem to be fairly minimal based on what we see in canon across the board; They only have self-repair nanites, a single type of nanite, to fulfil all of these varied and complex immune system analogous functions. They only have this singular line of natural defence. 

(This assumption is based on purely what we see in canon; If there are other self-repair dedicated functions, these are not as universally mentioned or mentioned at all in TF media canon, or where they are implied, they are not well defined.) 

While this may still be the most ideal possible natural or innate design for Cybertronian physiology, it is still, of course, essentially a single point of failure (as engineering terminology seems appropriate here), and a pretty serious one at that. 

Now, human immune systems can get all kinds of messed up anyway, and having more types of cells/nanites doesn’t necessarily eliminate a lot of those problems or risks and likely wouldn’t for Cybertronians either if they may have similar potential health concerns, but my point is that the Cybertronian immune system equivalent is extremely simplistic in comparison, which is in contrast with most other aspects of Cybertronian physiology. 

While they do use the plural form, “self-repair nanites”, which could imply the presence of multiple specific self-repair nanite types within the Cybertronian body, this is not specified, and this is never elaborated upon in any TF media to my knowledge. It seems that the use of the plural form refers only to there being many self-repair nanites in the body, rather than multiple types of self-repair nanite. 

Having a single line of immune defence has potentially serious implications in-universe; Just like human beings, Cybertronians may be able to experience problems with their immune systems ranging from potentially serious and chronic autoimmune issues, to being more prone to catching illnesses due to mild immunosuppression caused by chronic processor overload (chronic stress) or inability to recharge/infrequent recharge (insomnia), or possibly even autoimmune responses (see the section on rusting, below, for one theory I have about what may be a canonical example of this). 

This may vary significantly from series to series as well anyway, but we don’t have a lot of canonical medical information to work with about any of this, so this is all conjecture. 

Especially given the conditions of war, it may be difficult for Cybertronians to maintain fully functional self-repair nanites, as it is often the case across nearly all TF media that the bots are usually working with minimal supplies and/or sustaining severe and repeated damage, which provides ample opportunity for natural bodily processes to go wrong in addition or as a result of any external causes of damage. 

Do their self-repair nanites suffer from chronic low fuel levels, which particularly in TFP is a constant concern? 

Ratchet even mentions in the episode Stronger, Faster: 

Ratchet: “If one of you comes back wounded this time, well, our energon levels are nearly depleted.” 

While this may be in reference to concerns around lack of spare energon for transfusion purposes (as energon is treated like both blood and fuel in TFP), we know that it is generally used as supplementary to other medicines/treatments/medical procedures as well, although these are not defined clearly. 

It’s certainly possible that the risk of low fuel levels includes impeded nanite function, and considering that symptoms of low fuel in Cybertronians seem similar to exhaustion/fatigue/starvation in humans, it’s reasonable to assume that yes, running on strictly rationed levels of fuel for prolonged periods of time likely impacts their self-repair functions. 

This has further implications for dealing with everything from exposure to potential pathogens on other planets that may affect them, to recovering from any necessary surgical procedures or battle wounds. 

And, a very good point to make: Under the assumption that there is only one type of self-repair nanite, it may be possible to take a sample of these nanites from a living Cybertronian and reverse-engineer it; Biological weapons are known to exist in canon, and have been used to spectacularly horrific effect, particularly in IDW 2005/Sins of the Wreckers, if I recall correctly. 

What if someone finds a way to simply “shut down” these self-repair nanites? 

What if someone finds a way to, for example, create a biological weapon that induces an immediate autoimmune response, similar to a cytokine storm in humans? 

Which brings us to... 

Self-Repair Nanites, Autoimmune Responses, and Rusting: My Theory 

Cytokines are a part of the human body’s immune response, and are proteins that essentially help to moderate an immune response. If these proteins get out of control, a cytokine storm can result. 

We see a cytokine storm like effect when Cybertronians suffer from Cosmic Rust, which may trigger what appears to be a type of self-repair nanite storm; This might be the real reason for the rapid corrosion caused by the Cosmic Rust.

Rather than being a feature of the rust itself, it may be the case that the rust upon infecting a Cybertronian may elicit such a strong response from the nanites present in the body that it induces a sudden overwhelming and indiscriminate response from the self-repair nanites, thus causing the Cybertronian body to devour itself: 

The self-repair nanites in such a “storm” would not discriminate between healthy metals and rusted metals, and instead surge towards eliminating ALL metals.

This would mean that Cosmic Rust kills primarily by inducing a severe acute autoimmune response, but since we have no actual information on the mechanics of Cosmic Rust (or how it compares to normal rust which seems to occur naturally and seems to present as a somewhat common and relatively low risk issue for Cybertronians), I can’t say this for certain. 

I hope this has been interesting for someone, and if you actually stuck with me and read all of this, thank you very much for putting up with me!!!! <3 

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader | Chapter 3

Welcome to Part 3! You've made it this far? I'm impressed. Thank you for sticking around. This is quite the long chapter so, I hope you enjoy the juicy action all around.

And this one was quite the doozy to write. It's 3AM now? Hah, I've spent the entire day writing two chapters. But definitely don't expect more at quite this frequency. But I appreciate you all none the less.

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Tag Requests: @lostghostgirl94 @neoarchipelago @fillechatoyante @fanfics-ig

Did I miss someone? For future tag requests: Please send me a direct message if possible, it's easy to lose people in the mix and I don't want to miss anyone!

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For previous chapters go here: Part 1 | Part 2

Word Count: 5.358

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It had been precisely three hours, forty-two minutes since two Avengers and a criminal mastermind had left the safe house you were staying in.

You were currently staring up at the ceiling with mild boredom waiting for the next round of texts to come in. An alert notification rang through the near empty residence, the noise echoed off the walls of the living room intensifying the reverberation of sound.

Rolling over, you flopped onto you stomach from your position on the couch, stretching your arm out to grab the phone off the coffee table.

Carefully, you read the incoming message. 'No recent signs of Karli, but following up on a handprint Bucky found a couple miles from our initial start position. Zemo has a theory it might lead to a section of tunnel that veers off towards the harbor. Will update again in another hour. - S'

Great.

So they'll easily be gone at least another couple hours, leaving you to your own devices. That's dangerous. There's no telling what kind of trouble you could get into without something to do. Your mind was always processing, constantly formulating new plans and calculating risk probabilities. It's why you were so fidgety and animated. You didn't inherently have ADHD, but your brain was so active the symptoms manifested as such. You had a genius level intelligence, you just chose to down-play it most of the time. You craved activities to keep your mind from going into overdrive; it's why you spend most of your mornings running. To drain your body of excess energy and let your brain rest.

You groaned in irritation, tossing the phone back onto the coffee table. Sam could have at least given you a pin point location so you could do some research on the area where the handprint was found.

Maybe you could read for a bit.

You got up and headed to your room at the back of the apartment. Zemo gave you the last room at the end of the hallway, it also happened to be the only room that had a half bath attached to it. Which in retrospect, was quite thoughtful of him.

As you reached your room, a chilly draft fell across your body, causing goosebumps to raise on your fair skin. You noticed you left a window open in the room and moved to close it. Often times, late at night you sat at the window sill and read to pass the time when you couldn't sleep. Sometimes, you'd crack the window open and simply listen to the sounds of the outside; they were just as soothing. There was no denying it was quite lovely where you were staying. Helmut Zemo had impeccable taste.

You grabbed your book and crossed the room, rubbing your arm to help circulate some heat back into your body, but before you got to the door, a patch of blue caught your eye. Zemo's hoodie. It had been left draped haphazardly over the back of one of the chairs in your room. A constant reminder you needed to give it back to the Baron, but you weren't ready to just yet, and funnily enough, he hadn't asked for it.

Shifting from foot to foot, you debated what to do. It was comfortable. Wearing it one last time couldn't hurt, right? There wasn't anyone here to cajole you about it anyways and you could just take it off before the guys got back. Perfectly reasonable. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you snagged the garment off the chair and pulled it on as you walked back out to the main living room, book in hand.

As you rounded the corner and made your way through the kitchen back to the couch, you heard a loud metallic bang against the entry-way door accompanied with the tell tale signs of door knobs turning. Caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, you had leapt off the ground, clutching the book to your chest.

You stared at the door in fear knowing it was way too soon for anyone to have returned yet. And they wouldn't have caused the disruption in the attempts to break in. Pushing down your apprehension, your senses started to return to you, and you realized you need to get to your phone. Now.

Your eyes moved across the apartment and landed on the coffee table a short distance away from you. Bingo. You took a step forward towards the table when the front doors suddenly swung open and a whirl of red, white and blue flew past your face. The projectile, nearly hitting you, caused you to stumble, knocking you backwards onto the floor. You landed clumsily, but thankfully caught yourself before your head smacked against the ground.

You didn't need to look up to know exactly what object flew at your head. The sound alone was unmistakable.

"Apologies for the erratic entrance, I only meant to use it to help open the door - I hadn't planned on Lemar here unlocking the them so easily. When the doors fell open, it kind of just flew right out of my hand."

Annoyance had now replaced your fear.

John Walker.

You had many opinions of the man based off what Sam and Bucky had told you, but you hadn't had the pleasure of actually meeting him. Until now.

This did not help sway your opinion of him in the very least. If anything, it only solidified that the government had made a rash decision. You don't just had over the shield to anyone.

You glared up at the intruders from your position on the floor. This was completely unexpected. How did he even manage to locate this safe house? Something nagged at the back of your mind that Captain Walker might have had help from people with a questionable background. You shoved the thought aside for the time being.

Lemar had gone around to the back of the couch and pulled the shield out of the wall embedded in between the two stained windows. Walker, who stood next to you, was offering his hand to help you up.

You didn't even make an effort to consider his gesture and got up off the floor without his assistance, dusting yourself off in the process.

Walker appeared undeterred by your dismissal of him and instead put on a winning smile and rotated his hand in the attempts of a handshake.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. John Walker. Captain America," he proudly stated.

"I know who you are Captain Walker, as well as your friend here," you briskly answered, crossing your arms in front of you.

You could see the smile start to drop off his face and his eyes turn a bit darker.

"And I know who you are as well, you're well documented along with the Avengers, but I was trying to be polite," Walker grounded out with forced effort.

You didn't want to start an argument with the newly anointed Captain America, but there was something off about him that just irritated you.

"Polite?" you sarcastically question. "How is barging into someone's residence, polite? Please, do explain," you shifted your weight onto one side, giving him an expectant look.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. In case you've forgotten, I'm Captain America," he took a step towards you, his body language highly suggesting an intimidation tactic.

You held your tongue and took a step back to place more distance between yourself and Walker. You spared a glance at his partner to gauge his reaction, but his expression was guarded, although he was watching with rapt attention.

"What do you want, Walker?" you bit out. You attempted to keep some of the contempt out of your voice, but he had quickly turned your mood sour this afternoon.

"Where's Zemo?" Walker cut straight to the chase this time.

"Not here, obviously," you held your arms out, gesturing around.

"I want to know where Zemo is. He's coming with us," the captain took another step towards you, this time with a more forceful intention.

You furrowed your brow and took another step back. His posturing was starting to make you slightly nervous.

"Even if I did know where he was, I'm not saying either way. Zemo has been surprisingly helpful to us, and we need him to locate Karli along with the rest of the Flag-Smashers, including the missing vials of serum. And he's more likely to continue working with us, than provide you with any information at all. That I can say with absolute certainty," your words sounded confident, but inside you were trembling.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say to Captain America.

His entire demeanor changed. Once where there was some warmth and light-heartedness, there was only a cold emptiness left in his gaze. He reached back to grab the shield from Lemar, and then without any warning shoved you back against the wall to your left.

You heard the distinct sound of your right shoulder pop as is slammed into the wall along with the rest of your body. The rapid movement from Walker and impact from the shield knocked the wind right out of you. The pressure from the amount of force he was exerting pinned you to the wall and caused the shield to be painfully pressed into your side, separating you from Walker. You could feel the rim of the shield digging slightly into your neck, but not enough to cause any real damage.

"John!" you heard Hoskins shout with alarm from behind Walker.

You swallowed thickly; very real fear had settled into your bones. You were capable of defending yourself, but hadn't actually needed to put those skills into any use. Bucky and Sam had taught you some moves and hold to get out of, but it never crossed any of your minds once you'd have to fight Captain America. You tried to shift your head to the side to see how far away your phone was. What possible options you had. Maybe you could appeal to his partner and deescalate the situation before things got too ugly.

"I'm only going to ask this one last time. Where is Zemo?" Walker spit out, putting force against the shield, which in turn, caused you to grimace in pain.

"Hoskins, you really going to allow Captain America to torture an innocent citizen trying to help in a cause we're all aligned in?" you gasped out, trying to swallow as much air as possible through the pain wracking your body.

You refused to let it show. Holding back as much of the discomfort you were in. You didn't want to give Walker the satisfaction.

"John, ease up. She's not a terrorist, and frankly, I agree with her," Hoskins voiced, his footsteps bringing him closer to Walker with the hopes of gaining his attention no doubt.

The pressure from the shield against your form was lifted slightly, though the shield was still closer to your body than you'd like to admit. You closed your eyes to focus on regaining some stability and figure out your next course of action to get yourself out of this mess.

"Stay out of this Lemar," John replied, but his menacing stature had lessened minutely.

You opened your eyes to stare at Walker. He had removed the shield between the two of you and placed it on his back; however he stepped into your personal space instead and placed a hand against your collarbone, essentially rendering you immobile again.

Well, at least now you could breathe.

Walker peered down at you with distain, "You're really not going to give him up are you?"

You clenched your jaw and lifted your chin defiantly at him.

"No," you answered.

The wheels were turning inside Walker's head. You could literally see the fire burning in his eyes, realizing he wasn't going to get an answer out of you. Not willingly.

He dipped his head and released his hold on you, pointing a finger right at your face, "This isn't over. Not by a long shot."

You saw Lemar walk up and pat Walker's shoulder, "Alright, let's get out of here."

Walker straightened up and stiffly walked away, leaving Hoskins trailing behind. His ego had taken a blow today.

Hoskins gave an apologetic shrug, "He's under a lot of stress."

Before Lemar could fully clear your line of sight, you quietly spoke up, "He doesn't deserve that shield."

Hoskins didn't have a response to that.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

In wake of the aftermath, you had tried to clean up as best possible. You assessed your injuries were non life-threatening, though your right shoulder was most definitely dislocated. The arm was kept close against your body hoping to not jostle it too much. You felt spikes of pain as you cleaned the area where Walker had thrown the shield into the wall, but ignored it so you could get the place back in shape before Sam, Bucky and Zemo returned.

Sam had messaged not too long ago, they were roughly 20 minutes out from the apartment.

Your ribs were throbbing from where the shield had been buried into your side, but you didn't think they had been broken, only bruised. You were going to have to ask one of them pop your shoulder back into place.

You were dreading the conversation, but were determined to remain as calm as possible to help alleviate the immediate reaction they were going to have once you revealed what happened.

The events of the day had finally caught up with you and coupled with the cleaning efforts, your body was signaling it's exhaustion. You were in the kitchen, and honestly didn't think you could make the short trip to one of the sofas; so you carefully sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen and waited patiently.

Sure enough, 20 minutes later, the doors to the apartment opened and the guys swiftly came in to greet you.

"Did you even leave the kitchen?" James inquired, coasting around the kitchen to grab a drink.

You smiled tightly and responded in kind, "For a short while, yes. Did you guys find anything worth while?" You quickly wanted to change the subject but knowing you were only delaying the inevitable.

"Yeah, we think we've discovered a possible building Karli is using to hideout in. We had planned on eating something quickly and then leave again to check it out tonight," Sam explained.

As Sam was talking, Bucky had accidently bumped into you, causing you to wince and pull your arm tighter to you. Luckily, he didn't see your face, but Sam did.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam questioned, voice filling with concern.

You blew out a breath bracing yourself for what you were about to say.

"What happened to my wall?" Zemo piped up, giving you a curious glance, he had moved to run his hand along the diagonal cut, inches deep, in the space between the ceiling to floor windows.

Bucky left his glass and walked over to get a better look, as did Sam. Both of them would know precisely what caused a mark like that to become etched into a wall.

Sam and Bucky snapped their heads back to you as soon as they saw the indention, but it was Zemo who spoke first.

"John Walker was here," he stated, shrugging off his coat and hanging it over the back of the couch he was nearby.

"It was an, eventful afternoon here," you tried to put some overly cheerful, comedic tones into your voice, but failed pretty miserably.

"What happened?" Sam immediately asked.

The trio had made their way back to the kitchen to get answers from you.

Zemo came to stand nearby, eyes roaming your body, searching. With his expertise, there was no question that he would quickly figure out you were injured; so you tried to tell your story as concisely as possible.

"Um, so - Walker and Lemar showed up. He asked for Zemo. I told him he wasn't here aaaaand they left. The end," you hurriedly spoke, wanting to get this over with and not draw any more attention to yourself.

But you could see in Helmut's eyes, he knew there was more to your story. His carefully crafted mask was starting to crack as you saw his gaze drift down to you cradling your arm underneath the island away from Bucky and Sam's eyeline.

"You're hurt," Zemo said. His face showed open concern as he walked the remaining distance to you.

With more tenderness than you thought possible coming from him, he slowly and carefully moved your right arm away from your body. He kept his eyes trained on you for any discomfort or signs of pain.

Once your arm had left your lap though, you reached over with your left hand to grip one of his wrists to prevent him from moving your arm any further.

"Don't, please," you pleaded, gritting your teeth and swallowing down the pain threatening to erupt from you. You were panting now, and more clear than ever something had happened to you while they were gone.

Helmut released your arm without hesitation, but did not leave your side. You saw him exchange tense looks between James and Sam. Normally, Bucky would have been focused on keeping Zemo away from you, but with the current circumstances, he was no longer a priority.

"What actually happened?" Bucky softly called out, he and Sam had gotten closer to take a better look at you. Sam brought a chair out to sit next to you and give you a once over, while you explained.

The expressions on their faces were grim as they anxiously awaited your reply.

"It wasn't - it's not quite as bad as it seems," you started, stuttering out the words as Sam brought his hands up to check your head for any injuries first.

"He just barged right in and was insistent on finding Zemo. He was acting so arrogant and pompous, I just refused to give him any information on his whereabouts," you continued on. "He didn't like the fact I wasn't willing to cooperate with "Captain America" and he got a little.....rough with me."

Sam paused his surveying to meet your gaze. You could see the guilt beginning to creep into his eyes. He turned his head to look up at Bucky, who was angrily flexing his vibranium arm in displeasure. Probably only affirming his notion that Sam should have never given up the shield in the first place.

"What did he do?" Bucky's tone brook no argument. He wanted to know the truth.

You scrunched your face in unpleasantness when Sam checked your lower neck and collarbone, he had found the place on your body where the shield and his hand had met you.

"Is this from - ?" Sam couldn't finish his sentence and he looked away in anger. You could tell he just wanted to get up and throw something, and that was commonly uncharacteristic for him.

Zemo had shifted his position to take a peek at what Sam was doing while he checked you out. You saw how his eyes had darkened with quiet rage taking stock of everything. There was an outline of a thin scrap mark against the underside of your neck and jaw, but it was a clear demarcation that would only be caused from the shield itself.

You nodded sadly and focused on answering Bucky's question as you gave Sam the okay to keep going.

"Walker, didn't get what he wanted, so he did the only other thing he knows how to do," you cleared your throat and rubbed your hand against your forehead.

"Use brute force," Zemo darkly said.

"He used the shield to push me up against the wall over there," you pointed over as you continued re-telling what happened. "I was knocked into the wall pretty hard, but Walker lost all focus and nearly suffocated me from the force of the shield against my body. I think he -" you yelped like a wounded animal, not able to finish your story when Sam touched your shoulder.

Bucky's eyes had widen and became deeply concerned over your pained scream.

Your muscled were clenched tight as you tried to ride out the pain, face starting to turn red.

Zemo had placed a light hand on your back, leaning down to comfort you and remind you to breath.

You fumbled with your good arm as you tried taking in deep breaths and motioned to Sam what was wrong with your arm.

Even with your poor mime animation of pretending to have your arm pulled from your socket, James picked up on what you were getting at. He tapped Sam to switch places with him. Your eyes were watering at this point and you blinked back the tears wanting to fall.

"Alright doll, on the count of three, I'm going to raise your arm and put pressure on your shoulder, okay?" Bucky solemnly said.

Sam gave you a smile of assurance while Zemo ended up taking your good hand, letting you know you could use him to brace yourself. He and James shared a silent conversation before nodding at one another. If Sam had a problem with Zemo providing you comfort, he didn't show it. You figured he was letting some of his dormant humanity rise to surface in this moment.

You shook slightly trying to prepare yourself for the next round of pain once your shoulder was fixed, but James didn't give you any time.

"Three," he commanded, snapping your shoulder back into its socket before you had a chance to even reaction.

You let out another cry of pain, holding onto Zemo's hand tightly, but somehow, the fear of the oncoming pain dissipated as you let go of his hand and rubbed your shoulder with minimal soreness.

You cleared your throat and looked at everyone after a few moments of rest. Surprised at how efficiently James had handled your shoulder, but then again, he was the perfect person to do the job.

You scrunched up your nose at James, "What happened to one and two?"

He huffed out a laugh, "It worked didn't it?"

"Thank you. All of you," you gave a lazy smile through the tiredness that filled you up. "I think I'll be okay now - that was the worst of it. Promise. Walker didn't do any further harm to me. I managed to convince Lemar to get Walker to back down," you glossed over the section where Walker threatened you, but you could bring that up later.

None of them were satisfied with your response, but you're guessing they let it slide given the circumstances.

Zemo reached into the freezer to grab an ice pack. He handed it to you to place on your shoulder helping with your recovery. You accepted it from him extremely grateful. You mused your opinion of him was constantly evolving the more time you actually spent with him.

Sam had asked if you were sure there weren't any other areas you wanted to have checked over for injuries.

You assured him, you were alright, just tired and very sore.

Bucky had swiftly gotten up from his chair and made it known he wanted to go after Walker this evening. You knew he wasn't going to let this incident go any time soon. Sam had also been in agreement after fully understanding what transpired, but Zemo was eerily silent.

"You guys should follow your original plan. Don't let Walker distract you. I'm alive and I am going to be okay. Go follow your lead on Karli," you interjected, trying to be the reasonable one. There was no need for them to go off halfcocked while they were still very upset. You were too, if you were being honest with yourself, but your focus was on your friends first and foremost.

"Well, we're not leaving you here alone. I can stay behind and let Zemo and Sam check things out," James said.

"Actually, it makes the most sense if I stay behind," Zemo chimed in.

"Why is that?" Sam countered warily.

"The particular location you are going to, I have....a history there. It would be wise for me to not be seen in that part of town as to not raise any alarm bells," he reasoned with them.

"And why should we trust you with her?" Bucky asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"Because I have no motive to do any harm to her nor shall I allow any further injury come to her. On this James, I give you my word," Helmut replied, the seriousness of his tone was not lost on anyone in the room.

"Okay," Sam relented, moving about the kitchen to pack some food for their evening night out.

"Just like that, huh?" James said with disbelief.

"Yeah, just like that," Sam parroted back.

Bucky wasn't happy about the situation, but there was an urgency to find Karli, so he caved.

James leaned over on the counter to make sure you were 100% okay being left along with Zemo, reminding you at any time you can call and they'd rush back instantly for whatever reason.

You stood up slowly, balancing the ice pack on your shoulder and shuffled over a few steps towards him, "Thank you. Now, go."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

You waved to to your friends a second round of goodbyes for the day. You sagged against the counter, temporarily forgetting about Zemo for the moment. You really needed to lie down.

As if he read your thoughts, you suddenly felt his presence as an arm wrapped around your waist, resting firmly against your hip.

"Here, let me help you get someplace more comfortable than this," Zemo asserted, taking his free hand and dropping the ice pack from your shoulder onto the counter. He then grabbed your left hand, raising your arm and wrapped it around his neck to help support you. So now most of your weight is on your left side, allowing your right to have most of the pressure released from your injuries.

You were so close to him you could smell his expensive cologne and aftershave. It was intoxicating and caused your head to swim a little. You stumbled slightly, but Zemo kept you steady as you both made your way to your room.

In your exhausted state, you managed to sneak in a few glances to Zemo, who was concentrating on the task at hand, not wanting to cause any jarring movements. He deserved more credit than you had been giving him; he truly did seem to care in his own warped way.

Once you had gotten to your room, he guided you to the bed to lie down. Not once had you complained. A true testament of just how tired you were. You couldn't even muster a snarky reply at his disheveled state of being, from practically dragging you down the hallway.

You snuggled into the hoodie you were wearing and tried to lie in a position that wouldn't cause too much discomfort for your shoulder and ribs.

Zemo had stepped into the closet and when he returned he came back with a couple extra pillows. He propped them against your injured side to prevent you from rolling over during the night.

If nothing else, Zemo was incredibly thorough when he focused on something. And right now, that focus was you. It was unnerving, but also thrilling at the same time. Maybe you did have a head injury, because all you could do was smirk at how utterly adorable he was tending to you. It made you curious as to whether this was what Zemo was like before. For the first time, you really wanted to know more about him.

You saw how he was confident in everything he does, and this situation was no different apparently. He had been muttering to himself as he adjusted bedding and made sure there was nothing in the room that you could trip over if you had to get up. He was taking in all the possibilities, like you did.

He had been actively avoiding looking at you though since Bucky and Sam left. You weren't entirely sure why, as he's had zero problems watching you over the past several days. You have a feeling it's because you're one of a few people who have seen beneath the surface of Helmut Zemo, and he's reacting the only way he knows how to at this moment.

Distraction.

You were too sleepy to ponder this any further and turned your head to the side to see what Zemo was fiddling with now.

He had finished up the last of his tasks and looked around the room satisfied with his work. Only then did he turn to look at you.

If it had been anyone else, you would swear that Zemo almost seemed nervous. He was, at many times in your experience, hard to read; so all of these new expressions are a different side for you to see.

Zemo tentatively sat on the edge of the bed next to you.

"Do you need anything?" he genuinely inquired.

You shook your head, indicating you didn't.

All of a sudden he laughed. It ended nearly as quickly as it had began. You raised an eyebrow him in reply, but he simply tugged on the sleeve of his hoodie you were still wearing.

Too tired to be embarrassed about it, you simply mumbled, "Shut up. I still plan on giving it back, although, given it's track record, you should quite possibly get rid of it. After what happened today, I think it might be bad luck."

You saw Zemo dip his head and chuckle at your reply. He look much more carefree when he laughed. You'd have to add him to your daily list. Make Zemo laugh.

His expression sobered rather quickly though and became pensive after that, staring out the window briefly before resting his gaze back on you.

"You keep it. It looks better on you."

Not knowing what to say, caught up in the storm in his eyes, you give a small smile. You can feel your cheeks turning red under the intensity of his stare.

Zemo stood up, getting ready to leave when you stopped him by latching onto his wrist.

"Wait," you murmured.

The swift action caused him to furrow his brow in confusion.

You weren't sure exactly what you wanted from him, only that you didn't want him to go.

"Stay."

You could tell you startled him with your request. Your eyes grew larger realizing the potential double meaning.

"Just until I fall asleep?" you clarified, a yawn escaped as you covered your mouth.

Zemo visibly relaxed and had you relinquish your hold on his arm so he could pull up a chair to your bed. He turned his head around the room in search of something. He went to the nightstand and picked up your book.

Amusement flitted across the features of his face as he read the cover. Zemo sat down on the chair and propped his feet up on the side of the bed.

You shut your eyes and tried to block out the soreness covering your body. Tomorrow would be worse. The next day always is. You had begun to doze off, when ever so quietly, you heard Zemo's voice fill the room.

He was reading to you. Lulling you into a peaceful sleep and letting you know he was still present. Wanting you to know, in his own way, he was upholding his promise to Bucky and Sam. That you were safe with him. That you could trust him just as you had, when you asked him to stay in the first place.

With those final thoughts, you drifted off, listening to the subdued sound of his voice.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Electricity Chapter 1

Summary: For the first time in her life, Melody Williams is moving out of her hometown to Minnesota where she got a job as a crime journalist for the Minnesota Daily. But this city does not only have a new job for her to offer. What will happen when she crosses paths with detective Walter Marshall? Heads up, a little electricity is involved ✨

Walter Marshall x Melody Williams (curvy OFC)

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 2.5k

A/N: So, I wrote something for the first time 👀 Pls be kind haha. This is written with a plus size/curvy OFC in mind because all my curvy babes, like me, deserve some love 😘 

“Thanks for calling me. I will call you back with my decision soon.” I hung up the phone and stared at it in my hand. A woman from the newspaper in the city a few towns over had just called, telling me they were offering me a job at their crime department. I sat at my desk at my current job, a local journalist for my hometown newspaper. I started working there during college and they offered a job after I finished. I happily accepted, because that meant I could move out of my lovely parents’ house and start my own life.

As I sat at my desk I realized I had never really left this town, and I had always fantasized what it would be like to live and work in a different town. I loved my hometown, don’t get me wrong, but it is small and everyone knows each other. Every day is basically the same here. Miss Johnson walks her dog at exact 3pm, the Millers go to the supermarket at 4pm to buy dinner and the whole town eats at Al’s diner every Sunday.

Also, the men in this town aren’t something to write home about. The decent men are taken by the perfect housewives and the ones who are left, are the type of guys who you don’t want to meet in a dark alley. And unfortunately, no nice men have decided to move here in the last couple of years. The only guy I dated (we were only together for a couple of months) decided I wasn’t good enough and eloped with a pretty, skinny blonde bitch.

While the town doesn’t seem to change, neither does my job. I have been covering the local news for a couple of years now, and it feels like I have been doing the same thing over and over again. Nothing really happens here, and honestly it makes me feel stuck at my job. I feel like my job and this place aren’t helping me to move further. I want to learn more and see something else than this town.

Still staring at the phone in my hand realization washed over me. This was my way out. This phone call could change everything. Not thinking twice, I called the woman (I had forgotten her name, Stacy apparently) back telling her I was accepting their offer. This was my chance of starting something new.

In the weeks after the call, I quit my job and started looking for a new place. Luckily, I found a cosy, affordable apartment. Not too big, not too small. Perfect for me and only me. Not wanting to wait, I moved in quickly with the help of my parents and made the place feel a little like home.

It was a cute apartment with one bedroom and a tiny kitchen. I had everything I needed. A comfy couch, my kettle, my books, a tv for my binge-watching nights and lots of cosy blankets and throw pillows.

After moving in and settling down, I finally had a chance to decorate the place with a lot of fairy lights and plants. I stood in the middle of the living area, wiping some sweat of my face after moving around some heavy plants. Yeah, this is starting to look like home. I thought as I looked around the living area, satisfied with the work I did.

I sat down on my couch and looked at the clock on the wall. It was 8pm. I was tired and hadn’t eaten yet. Tomorrow was my first day at the Minnesota Daily and I couldn’t wait. I was a little nervous, but because I was so tired, I didn’t have the energy to be too nervous or to make dinner.

I decided to make a grilled cheese sandwich and go to bed early. Tomorrow was the first day of a new start and I needed to look good. Might need a full 12 hours of sleep if I want to look a little decent, I thought to myself as I stared into the mirror and noticed my messy hair and the bags under my eyes.

After I ate my ‘dinner’ (I decided two grilled cheese sandwiches counted as dinner), I went to my bedroom and picked an outfit for tomorrow. A simple jeans and a baby blue blouse would do it. Afterwards I brushed my teeth and removed my make up. I put on my pyjamas and fell asleep as soon as my head hit my pillow.

After parking my car in the parking garage underneath the building the Minnesota Daily is located, I checked my make up one last time in the rear-view mirror. No uneven eyebrows and no smudges of mascara. Let’s go make a good first impression.

I stepped out of the car and grabbed my purse. I walked out of the parking garage and made my way to the front desk where I was greeted by a friendly older looking receptionist.

“Hi, I’m Melody! It is my first day here and I was told to ask for Stacy,” I said.

“Welcome dear! I’ll let Stacy know you’re here! She’ll be here in a sec,” she said with a smile. I nodded and looked around. People were walking in and out of the building, most of them talking on the phone. They all looked like they were in a rush.

Stacy appeared within a minute. She was taller than me, and I’m not exactly tiny, and her long brown hair was tied up in a bun. She walked towards me with her hand reached out and I quickly took it.

“Hi, you must be Melody! I’m Stacy, but everyone calls me Stace. Come, follow me, I’ll show you where we will be working!” she said while we walked to the elevator. While the elevator brought us to the 8th floor, she asked me how my new apartment was and if I liked the city. Before I knew it, the elevator reached the 8th floor.

“Everyone, pay attention! This is Melody and she will be joining our department as you all know,” Stacy practically yelled the second we left the elevator. I already saw some friendly faces looking at me. “Hi, I am Melody, but please call me Mel,” I said while Stacy walked over to a desk and started to introduce me to my new co-workers.

After I met everyone from the crime department, I made my way towards my new desk. Everyone seemed friendly and there was a relaxed atmosphere. Which was a little surprising to me considering this was the crime department. I looked around and thought: yeah, I made the right call to accept this offer.

Yet, I had no idea what this town had to offer me. Or better said, who.

In the first week I worked there I became friends with some of my co-workers. Carmen Garcia practically forced me to go to lunch with her and Gia Park on my first day. They had both been working at the Minnesota Daily for a couple of years now and they were one of the few women in the department. So, they were glad I was recruited to give them another ally in the office.

While we had lunch, they informed me about everything I needed to know. “You seriously need to stay away from creepy Greg, he works for the finance section. Make sure you never go down there alone. He always looks at women like he wants to drag them into an empty alley,” Gia said while pretending to throw up.

“Oh, he is the worst! But Megan, the receptionist, is the best ever. She is so sweet and kind. If you ever need anything, just ask her and she will help you,” Carmen added.

“Definitely! And if you ever need free tickets for a sports game, just let me know and we will visit the guys from the sport section,” Gia told me with a wink.

“I will keep all of this in mind,” I said while taking a sip from my cappuccino. “but tell me something about yourselves!”

Next thing I knew Carmen and Gia told me where they grew up, where they went to school and how they ended up working for the Minnesota Daily. I noticed how easy it was to talk to these girls and we had a good laugh while they told me about their most recent dating disasters. I nearly spilled my cappuccino not once or twice, but thrice while Carmen told me about how she escaped from one of her dates through the bathroom window.

During my first week I spend a lot of time with them. I helped them finish their articles and I got to know them pretty well. Carmen is tough, but sweet and straightforward, while Gia is soft and has a very short span of attention while working. She has visited my desk every half hour just to “catch up”. But I didn’t complain. It was nice to have them as my co-workers, although they began to feel more like friends.

It felt like my life fell into place again. I was making new friends, and I did a pretty good job so far.  Still, sometimes I forgot to do basis tasks like getting groceries. So now I was parking my car in the parking lot of the grocery store.

As soon as I stepped out, I felt the cold chilly air around me, making me pull my leather jacket closer around my body. Hastily I stepped through the doors of the store just a few minutes before they would close. Quickly I grabbed a basket, knowing I should grab a cart, and started to walk through the aisles.

It was quiet inside, just a few people were doing some last-minute shopping like me. I waved hello to the woman at the cash register as I made my way to the first aisle.

So just the basics, some bread, apples, veggies, chocolate. Hmm maybe no chocolate. Okay yes, some chocolate. I deserve it today. What else, milk and cereal obviously. Girl gotta eat some breakfast. I thought as I threw some products in my already way too full basket and made my way to the cereal aisle. I walked passed the apples and picked some up, holding them in my hands.

Walking through the aisle I stopped in front of the many boxes of cereal. Above me I noticed a flickering lightbulb, reminding me I still needed to watch the last episode of Stranger Things. Maybe I should watch it tonight.

Staring at all the different kinds of cereal, I couldn’t decide which one I wanted. After a minute of just staring at the boxes lost in my own world, I grabbed one.

Except, I suddenly wasn’t the only one. Quickly I turned around and bumped into a warm, broad chest which made me drop the apples I was carrying. “Oh shit,” I whispered before I looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen and stared at the man. He had a beard and dark, brown curls. One of the curls dangled in front of his eyes and I had to fight the urge to not wipe it out of his face.

“It didn’t look like you were going to make a decision soon, so I just grabbed the one I wanted,” he said while crouching down to pick up the fallen apples.

“Oh no, no it’s fine,” I stammered, completely overwhelmed by him. “I guess I was zoned out there for a moment.”

While he was picking up the apples, I decided to take a quick look at him. He was a tall, big man wearing a dark blue sweater. Damn it, he is gorgeous. Don’t mind bumping into him more often.. no don’t go there, pull yourself together! I thought as I felt my cheeks burning all of a sudden. I couldn’t even remember the last time I talked to a man this handsome. Get it together Mel.

As he stood up and handed me the apples, I noticed how tired he looked. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, making me wonder when it was the last time he had a decent amount of sleep. Or if he ever had a decent night of sleep.

“Thank you for picking these up,” I said while holding up the apples, making them almost fall again. His reflexes were fast as he grabbed my elbow, helping me keep the apples balanced. The warmth of his hand made my legs suddenly feel a little weak.

“No problem,” he chuckled tiredly making me smile a little. “Maybe you should have gotten a cart instead of a basket, might be easier,” he said while still holding onto my elbow. He pointed with his other hand to my basket that was way too full.  

“You are probably right, but my stubborn ass thought I could carry it all, so here we are,” I answered with a timed laugh, feeling a little embarrassed. He looked at me with those blue eyes and I noticed he had a “don’t mess with me” vibe, that somehow made me feel safe.

As I looked at his hand on my elbow, I suddenly became aware of how close he was. I could smell his musky cologne. He noticed I looked at his hand, and he abruptly let go of me while taking a step back. I immediately missed the warmth of his hand.

“I, uh, I need to go. Take care and don’t drop those again,” he told me with a small smile pointing at the apples in my hands. He grabbed his own basket and started to walk away. As he walked away, I took a good look of him. He was a very muscular man, and I took a mental picture of his ass because that was a sight I did not want to forget. I must tell Carmen and Gia about this.

“I can’t promise that, but I will try my hardest,” I laughed, knowing I would probably drop them again soon. “See you around?” I asked him. Surprised by my own boldness I nearly sank through the floor out of embarrassment.

He looked back at me with those beautiful blue eyes and I felt a spark of electricity going through my spine. “I hope so,” he said with a smirk before he shook his head and turned the corner leaving me speechless in the cereal aisle.

I stood there for another minute while coming back to my senses. My cheeks stopped burning and I realized I had not embarrassed myself that much. I smiled to myself and pictured the smirk he gave me in my head. Then the announcement that the store was about to close in a few minutes blared through the speakers, reminding me I still had to collect some groceries.

Quickly I grabbed the rest of the groceries and headed towards the cash register hoping to see him one more time. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found.

I paid for the groceries and walked to my car. Loading the groceries in the trunk I nearly dropped the apples again. Told you, I thought while closing the trunk. It was getting dark and colder outside so I wasted no more time and drove home.

While driving home I realized the mistake I made.

Damn, I should’ve asked his name.

•••

> Chapter two

Taglist: @keanureevesisbae

If somehow you want to be on my taglist, just let me know!

thoughts on Bela///Donna?

What a lovely can of worms you've placed in my inbox, dear nonnie. I cannot wait to open it and lose followers (regardless of what I actually say).

Since this is, uh, a subject of some debate among RE8 fans, I will be inputting my thoughts on the idea of the ship (and the possible controversy), as opposed to doing HCs or something for it (which I recognize might be what you were asking for, despite the excessive /s).

This is all based on my playthroughs of the game, as well as what I've managed to double check on the fandom/wiki for it. I know that a lot of people who read fanfic for the game haven't actually played it, likely having been lured in by Tall Vampire Milf, and so I hope that some people will be open to a reminder of, like, canon vs fanon? I've mentioned in a previous post that there's a lot of details for RE8 that are not made clear, and I feel the need to reiterate that in this post. Capcom left a lot of stuff up to people's imaginations, or kind of just hinted at in game or in concept art.

But more importantly, regardless of what game we're talking about, regardless of the conclusion I come to (and the one you come to) at the end of this post, I want to say that I absolutely understand the need/desire to have your own perspective/take on the characters from the game, as well as their dynamics. If a ship makes you uncomfortable because you see the characters as being family members, it's totally okay. Block the ship tag, or filter it out when you look through fandom stuff, don't follow people who post for it, etc, etc.

If you think of characters as being family-family (like, not just "we got married and are now a family" but, like, "we're siblings/parent and child") and still ship them? uh. sorry, bruv, maybe think of hitting that unfollow button. No, seriously, hit that unfollow button. This blog is anti-incest, thank you very much.

The last thing I'll say before putting it under a read-more (for both length and major RE8 spoilers) is that I recognize that I might have missed something, either in game or developers talking about things on social media, and so if you read through this and go "god, J, you're such a dumbass for forgetting *critical piece of media*" or even just "okay but have you seen *small but meaningful piece of media*?" please. Just. Please. Tell me. Link me to that shit. I WANT to know if I'm wrong. I've literally avoided talking about this for as long as I could in order to TRY and make sure I have all the context I need.

With that said, let's examine what context we are given for Alcina Dimitrescu, Bela Dimitrescu, Donna Beneviento, and their relations to each other. I will be leaving my personal thoughts on Bela///Donna at the very end of this, as somewhat of a conclusion, somewhat of just a "hey, this is what you technically asked me about".

Firstly, let me begin by explaining what I consider to be the 3 tiers of "canon"

In-Game/Direct: The highest, truest tier, the definitive canon. This is everything that takes place in game, excluding certain hallucination scenes (ex: Mia was not really in House Beneviento, but we can infer some things from what Donna made Ethan hallucinate about). Things either happen, or are directly stated by characters. There's some wiggle room for dialogue, as characters can lie, but overall we, as the audience, assume we are being told the truth. At the very least, games usually eventually make it clear when a character has been dishonest. Examples of Direct Canon include the following: Ethan is infected with the mold, Lady Dimitrescu drinks blood, Heisenberg wears sunglasses, Mother Miranda can shapeshift.

Concept Art/Developer's Notes/Indirect: Mid-tier and debatable, the "we think, but we're not sure" of canon. Resident Evil: Village contains lots of concept art that the players can browse through, all of which include notes from the developers about the game, characters, environments, and story. Sometimes the notes make something "direct", but oftentimes they do not specify whether the listed idea is still canon or if it was removed during development. This tier also includes information that is implied/can be inferred from tier 1 information, but is not directly stated. Examples of Indirect Canon include the following: Donna's mother died by suicide, Moreau was going to have his lover fused to his back, Duke was originally a fifth lord, Heisenberg was going to have a twin. As you can see, not all of the concept art ideas made it into the final version of the game, so it can be hard when some information seems like it might still be true (such as the matter of Donna's parents).

Fanon/"False": Sometimes collective ideas in a fandom become so widespread that people start interpreting them as actual canon. Sometimes it gets hard to remember what's just obscure lore and what's fanon. When we get a piece of fiction as overall vague as a lot of Resident Evil: Village is, there's bound to be some confusion over time. That's one of the main reasons I waited to talk about Bela////Donna until after I had recently replayed relevant sections of the game, as I wanted to remind myself of what we're actually told. Examples of False Canon are difficult to pinpoint, but might include things like: Hufflepuffs are good at finding things? The Avengers got along for awhile and all had their own rooms in the tower? There's a number scale for the danger level of ghosts in Danny Phantom?

For this post, I will be limiting the majority of my notes to the first two levels of canon, and will do my best to mark them as such. Now... let us... begin.

Alcina Dimitrescu:

Born no later than 1914, Alcina Dimitrescu was 44 years old when she was granted the Cadou by Mother Miranda. (1st Tier: Canon. Source: A note in the castle basement from a servant is dated 1958, and mentions both Alcina and her children. Secondly, Miranda's experiment notes state that Alcina was the 181st subject, and was given the Cadou at age 44. By doing math, we can then determine the earliest Alcina could have been born.)

Alcina refers to the other Lords as her family once without any disdain (when Ethan first arrives at the castle and is caught, Alcina says "you've escaped my little brother"). In a private journal (located near where she threw the infamous vanity) she insults the other Lords, and expresses anger that she is "treated like a sister to them". She argues with Heisenberg without any hesitation, and seems honest in her hatred of him (per Maggie Robertson's wunderbar performance). (1st Tier/2nd Tier: Canon with a sprinkle of interpretation for the last line)

Alcina openly refers to Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela as her daughters, and wrote in her experiment journal that she felt instantly connected to them (as mother and daughters). (1st Tier: Canon).

Bela Dimitrescu:

Likely born in the 1930's or 1940's, in order to be an adult by 1958 (the first dated appearance of the Dimitrescu daughters). (2nd Tier: Based on inference)

Dialogue shows that all three of the daughters do love their mother, and reinforces the bond Alcina's journal mentions. (1st Tier: Canon)

We are not given any information about how Bela feels about the other Lords, or even what she knows about them. Once can assume that she shares the ideas of her mother, either because Alcina tells her things directly, or because Bela (who is eager to please her mother) picks up on them over time. (2nd Tier: Based on inference)

Donna Beneviento:

No idea when she was born. If you've read one of my recent posts, then you know that it's almost entirely a matter of 2nd and 3rd tier canon.

Of the four lords, Donna seems to have the most story within the 2nd tier, and has very, very little in the 1st tier. Duke says she's somewhat isolated, and that her "playmates" never leave the house. Miranda's notes state that Donna is mentally ill, and the gardener's diary states/implies (bit of both) that Donna has severe social anxiety. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly canon)

Supposedly, her parents committed suicide while she was still a child. This is indicated in concept art/the attached developer's notes. However, the only part that's also directly stated in game is that her parents (specifically her father) died while she was young. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly canon)

While Donna only has one voice line in the game (and it's sad), Angie talks a fair bit. Angie seems to disapprove of the other Lords, or at the very least enjoys mocking them, as well as enjoys watching them fight with each other. As Angie is connected to Donna, and Donna has some level of control over her, one can assume that the two have similar (if not the same) opinions. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly Canon)

Donna was adopted by Mother Miranda as an adult. It's unclear exactly how old Donna was, or what exactly Miranda did as her "mother", just that Donna was excited about it. (1st Tier: Canon)

Other Relevant Information:

Heisenberg refers to the other Lords as his siblings a minimum of 1 time. Similarly to Alcina, however, he openly insults them and seems to hate them. He just, you know, hates Mother Miranda the most. (1st Tier: Canon)

Mother Miranda does not actually give a shit about the four Lords, intended for them to die before the ceremony, and has been manipulating them for her own gain this entire time. Her notes and dialogue make it clear that she only cares about getting Eva back. Somehow mother of the year and worst mother ever. At the same time. (1st/2nd Tier: Mostly Canon)

It's unclear who treats Alcina "like a sister" to the other Lords. Were there cut lines of dialogue that cemented the idea of them being a "family"? Did Miranda call them a "family" as part of pretending she cared about them? I've done my best to dig around, but there's very little in game that treats them as a family of any sort.

As each Lord ruled their own section of the region, they don't have any mentions of interacting with each other outside of meetings with Mother Miranda. None of the notes for any Lord (and their relevant experiments) mention what the others are doing. In game, their environments are very separate, very well divided, though this is likely as much for gameplay as it is for story.

Conclusion:

I do not not believe there is enough in game evidence to suggest that Alcina and Donna consider themselves to be siblings. There's the possibility for a large age gap, Alcina was a fair bit older than Donna when she met Miranda, Donna is a social recluse whose closest bonds were with dead blood relatives and dolls, Alcina openly dislikes (if not hates) the other Lords, they seemingly lived very separate and distanced lives, and Mother Miranda does not enforce the idea of "family". Furthermore, the sheer contrast between how Alcina interacts with/speaks of the other Lords compared to how she interacts with/speaks of her daughters says a lot about her feelings. Even if Heisenberg takes the brunt of her anger, Alcina never once says anything remotely positive about anyone other than Miranda and her daughters.

As Alcina/Bela and Donna are not blood-relatives, the definition of what would count as "incest" does vary depending on who you ask. Personally, I do count non-blood relations as potentially incestuous. For example: Alcina "dating" one of her daughters would be incest, regardless of the fact that she's a mutated human and her daughters are weird swarms of flies.

Now, I do understand how popular the idea of the four Lords being a real, chaotic but still close family is. And as I mentioned above, it's totally valid to not like the Bela///Donna ship, whether it's because you think they're family or some other reason. I don't personally see them that way, even in my definitely-not-canon stories.

Do I personally ship Bela///Donna? Nope. Have I liked art for the ship? Admittedly yes, even if I thought some of it was, like, maiden x Bela because Donna didn't have her veil and I'm a DUMBASS who doesn't always remember to read tags. Would I ever write for it? Yeah, probably, assuming I didn't miss anything in game/that I don't eventually change my mind.

Tomorrow Never Comes, Chapter 05: “Resolution”

CW: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Chapter Word Count: 2,298 words

[Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]

 “Tell me everything you learned when my memory kept getting wiped,” Jim says.

 “There is not much to tell. Leland and I attempted everything you and I have-” seeing Jim’s face, he pauses. “It was not a waste of time. Failure on the first attempt does not preclude the possibility of success on the second”

 The news that he was murdered multiple times hasn’t sparked any grand realisation as of yet. Mostly, it’s just made him angry, but he tries not to show it. Despite the recent realisation that their dilithium crystals have begun to drain, noticeably- confirming that they will run out, eventually- they sit side by side in a tense silence as the shuttle whizzes through space. Jim taps his fingers on his side of the dashboard, and turns to Spock.

 “Stop here; I want to try something.”

They land on the same planet as their first outing; but on a different beach, with actual sand.

 “For variety’s sake,” Jim says, with a slight smile.

“Variety,” Spock says, dryly, as they approach the shoreline. “I must admit; I thought you brought me here to kill me.”

“You- what?!” Jim wheels on him. “And you just- got in the shuttle?”

Spock tilts his head. “At the time, the reaction did not seem disproportionate.”

“Right.” Jim sits down on the sand, and looks up at him. “And now that you’re about to be- ah- executed?” He squints as he leans back, temporarily blinded by the iridescent sand.

Spock says nothing, and sits on the sand, a short distance from him. A strong breeze picks at strands of his hair, and Jim sighs.

After a moment, the sun begins to descend, and Jim looks up. “This is what I like about space travel. Even the sunset isn’t a fixed phenomenon. Theoretically- if you wanted to- you could manipulate it. Park your spaceship in a different position on the planet’s surface, so you could view it as many times as you liked. It’s not always spontaneous. But, if you’re really lucky, you get to experience this, with someone you-” he stops.

 “What?” Spock asks, quietly.

“Care about,” Jim finishes, softly. He clears his throat. “I mean, how many other people do you think have got to witness this exact view?”

Spock considers for a moment. “The Klingons,” he says, firmly.

 Jim laughs. “Spock, I-”

 A twinkle catches his eye.

The purple sunset dissolves into the vast tapestry of night, and, as the sand twinkles out, the sky itself becomes a glittering canvas. At the last moment, Jim turns to him, as the last embers of sunlight illuminate his hair.

“So, what do you want to do?” Jim whispers. “Do you want to chase the sunset? Have another go?”

Spock rests his head against his shoulder, and almost smiles.

As the days pass- or, don’t pass- they continue their attempts to escape. Sometimes, it looks like they might be getting somewhere- as far as they can while still avoiding Klingon space- but, at some point every morning, no matter how far they go, the clock resets. Heirin pulls them backwards like an elastic band, and they wake up back on the planet.

 “How far did we make it this time?”

 “Five point nine light years further than our last attempt.”

 Jim grits his teeth. “Then we should try going in that direction. Maybe we’re onto something.”

*

For the most part, the Iclixi have remained neutral in the Klingon-Romulan-Federation conflict, and, as a result, not much is known about them. Still, one thing is clear: they don’t like visitors.

“So, that’s why Leland asked me about base ten,” Jim says, breathless, as an asteroid explodes behind them. Escaping death has lost its excitement in some ways, but fleeing missiles- that’s fairly new.

Spock nods stiffly, his eyes locked on the controls, and Jim begins to use his own console to hack into the Iclixian database.

“Base six,” Jim murmurs, as he surveys the structure of the numbers on his console. “If it’s true that that these guys have four arms, then they must only have two digits on each hand.”

Spock runs a hand through his hair. “Jim-”

“I know.” Jim begins entering numbers frantically, and looks up. “What happened the first time you were here-?” The shuttle veers to the left.

Spock’s eyes dart to him, then back to the viewscreen.

“- Right.” Jim types faster. “Well, if I’m right, this should make us blind to their sensors.” And, if he’s wrong, they’ll find themselves back on Heirin.

With no memory of this.

He slams a button down at the same moment Spock pulls the shuttle into a nosedive. Outside the back window, the two missiles continue on a straight path, directly ahead. Jim waits with baited breath, but no more missiles are deployed.

He collapses back in his chair with an exhausted whoop.

They make their way through the rest of the Iclixi system without further disturbance, and Jim’s eyelids begin to droop.

 “How long have we been awake?” He yawns.

 “Twenty seven hours and… thirteen minutes,” Spock replies.

 Jim pats him on the shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep first?”

“Negative. Vulcans-”

“Require less sleep than humans, I know.” Jim rises, and curls up at the back of the shuttle, with a tired smile. This time, he thinks, as he drifts off, we might actually make it.

 Jim rolls over, and snuggles into something soft. He feels well-rested.

 Which only means one thing.

 His eyes snap open, and he sits bolt upright. “Spock.”

He rushes to the main bedroom, and throws the door open. The room is much more orderly than it was before. Spock opens his eyes, and sits up suddenly,

“Jim?” He reaches for him, frowning. “I did not fall asleep-”

“I know,” Jim murmurs, “But what happened? What’s the last thing you remember?” He takes hold of Spock’s hands, and kneels on the edge of the bed, checking him over- although, of course; there isn’t a scratch on him.

“I… blinked,” Spock realises.

Jim slumps.

 They can’t take shifts blinking.

*

As they begin to search for alternate routes through Klingon space, Jim finds something which he’d previously overlooked.

 Boreth.

‘There’s a planet in the Klingon empire called ‘Boreth’ which is the only place in the known universe to contain a mineral known as ‘poH qut’. Translated to Standard, it means ‘time crystal’.’ Jim had never heard of them before, but the more he reads, the more familiar it sounds. For the most part, research on them is scarce, but there are isolated reports- mostly anecdotal- of users becoming trapped in time loops, triggered either intentionally or accidentally. In both instances, though, the loop is triggered by the spilling of innocent blood.

Jim cross-references it with any references to poH qut in the Klingon databases, only to come up short: the Klingons abandoned all experiments with time crystals centuries ago, and the ones which remain on Boreth are closely guarded by an order of monks. There is something, though. Rumours that one of the experiments resulted in a time crystal being hidden at the very core of a planet, before

“...But, even if there is a time crystal at the heart of this planet, that doesn’t help us,” Jim muses. “We don’t have the equipment to locate it or dig it up.”

Spock raises an eyebrow, and says nothing.

 Jim claps him on the shoulder. “We’ll find a way out.”

*

 Jim’s desperation only increases as things begin to break around the stronghold. For the moment, it’s mostly small, minor electrical errors- a wire needs reattaching on an upper wall, one of the consoles in the server room stops working, but there are plenty of backups- for now.

 They run into problems whenever something needs replacing. They salvage a couple of items from the basement, but the only replacement bulb they can find for the downstairs bathroom emits a bright, irradiated green. Spock begins to exclusively use the upstairs bathroom, explaining that such unrelenting green is every bit as unpalatable to Vulcan retinas as red would be to humans.

 Seeing as the shuttle has never been blown up before, the possibility limits the risks they can take, and the experiment is understandably one which they are reluctant to proceed with. If the shuttle doesn’t regenerate, they’ll be even more stuck than before, without a means of escape. Just as Lewis McAllister should have been. The report implies that McAllister simply omitted the miraculous tale of how his dead crew and ship were resurrected each morning before his miraculous escape… But, given the state that the shuttle and the stronghold are currently in, he doubts that was the case. He sighs, and goes over the information that they have once again, from day one to now.

 “I suspect,” Spock says, quietly, “The only reason Leland would have needed to learn the hacking procedure himself was if he was planning to kill me.”

 Jim holds his hand out, and, tentatively, Spock takes it.

*

 “Alright, new plan,” Jim says, as he steps out of the forest, his shirt spattered with blood. “We do what we came here to do.”

 Spock blinks at him, possibly confused by the blood stains.

 “I mean: I take the outpost down, then we travel out to meet whoever Section-31 is sending. I mean, what have we got to lose? If we get it wrong, won’t we just wake back up here again?”

 “With no memory of this,” Spock points out.

 Jim sighs. “I’ve thought of that. And- has it ever occurred to you that we

 Spock shakes his head. “The first day I remember, the stronghold was as it was the day before. And, we can tell

 “If we can work out some sort of back-up-plan, a way to send a message to ourselves in case our memories get erased again…” Jim glances at the shuttle, and heads towards the server room.

*

 As they fly through space, Jim turns to Spock with a nervous smile.

 “So. Who’s coming to meet us?”

 A shadow flickers across Spock’s face. “Agent Georgiou.”

 “Georgiou?” Jim frowns. “Phillipa Georgiou? Wasn’t she a Starfleet Captain? I thought she was killed in the battle at the binary stars?”

 Spock’s eyes flash. “She is not who she appears to be,” he says. “Whatever you think; you cannot trust her.” As usual, his expression is unreadable.

 The shuttle bleeps, as an unseen ship hails them. It pulls into view up ahead

 There’s a strange, unfamiliar weapon on the top of the ship, jutting out at the font. It’s twice as long as the hull of the shuttle, and looks as if it’s been compacted down. The front of it is coiled, like some sort of drill-bit. Before Jim can question it further, Spock answers the hail- audio only.

 “Agent Georgiou,” he murmurs.

 “Spock. I almost shot you out of the sky,” the voice purrs. “You’re early. A day early.”

 Spock straightens. “And yet, our mission is complete.”

 “Hm.” There’s a bleep as she, presumably, verifies that claim. “You work fast.”

 Spock exchanges a look with Jim. “Indeed.”

 There’s a pause.

 “Where’s Leland?” Her voice acquires a dangerous edge.

 “He is- on board.”

 “Hm. Unconscious, presumably; otherwise he would have answered me himself.”

 “We had a- trying day,” Spock says, haltingly.

 Jim’s heart hammers in his chest, and he squeezes Spock’s shoulder.

 “Scan us,” Spock says.

 “Oh, I did. There are two life-signs on your ship. One human, one half-Vulcan. I have no guarantee that Leland is one of them.”

 There’s a pause.

 “Unless you turn on your vidscreen, of course.”

 “It was damaged in our escape with The Klingons.”

 “How convenient. I assume Leland was injured, as well?”

 “Yes.”

 There’s a beat.

 “How do I know that the boy isn’t on board with you?”

 “Because we stuck to the plan,” Spock says.

 Jim breathes shallowly, and twists his hands together in his lap.

 Georgiou’s laugh is distorted. “Plans change. Still, I do not intend to deviate from mine. I was only instructed to meet you and Leland.”

 “You were never fond of Leland.”

 “That’s true. In many ways, you’ve done me a favour.”

 “Spock-” Jim whispers, as the computer readout flashes up red.

 “You can do me another favour.”

 “She’s locked on weapons-”

 The proximity alert bleeps. Spock’s hands find the controls the same time Jim’s do, and they slam the ship into a wild dive. A second later, something glances off the side of the ship, and they’re thrown sideways. Spock cries out. Jim crashes head first into the wall, and his vision goes double.

“Spock…” Jim says, as his eyes flutter shut.

*

 The hum of an engine. Jim’s head throbs.

 He sits up with a groan. The shuttle is adrift, and Spock is slouched over the controls, clutching his side and breathing heavily.

“Spock-”

 He crawls over to him, and pulls himself into the seat next to him. He touches Spock’s shoulder, and his eyelids flutter. He groans.

 “Come on, Spock.” He pulls Spock’s hand away, and it’s green with blood. Cursing, he pulls his jacket off, and winds it round his torso, but it soaks through quickly. Jim’s eyes widen.

 If he remembers correctly, Vulcan hearts are further down than humans’.

 Heart pounding, he runs to the back of the shuttle, and tears the medkit open. Though the bandages and the dermal regenerator have long since been depleted, he knows that he’s seen-

 A hypospray. He grabs it. With one last glance back at Spock, he fills it with a cartridge of anaesthetic. Enough to knock himself out, he hopes. He takes a deep breath. He sits down heavily, places it against his neck, and discharges it with a hiss.

[Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6]

Tips for keeping track of Netflix’s The Sandman news

I know everyone is hungry for Sandman related news but here's my advice as a fan who has been uh... keeping tabs the production since July 2019. 1.  Do a simple daily Google search for Sandman and go to the "news" tab but be warned, not everything that comes up is real or accurate. 2.   Do not trust the following sites to be accurate:   CBR, Backstage, cosmicbook, We got this Covered, or Empire. And especially "Daily express."  Daily Express is a clickbait site that got very aggressive with Lucifer content after its Fox cancelation and most of its content is clickbait or wrong.     Some of of these sites aren't just false information.  Sometimes they're actually dangerous, full of ads and malware.  Be careful! 3. CBR is not actually dangerous, it's just unreliable and known clickbait.  There's even a "CBR headline generator."  The exception to not trusting CBR is when CBR is just copying and pasting article from another reliable source.   Most of its Sandman content is clickbait lists of "favorite characters" or "Who is the strongest Endless?" essays.   Things like that, which often feel like they were written by someone who didn't actually read Sandman.  Their casting news is usually right though. 4.  The most reliable sources for info are sites like Variety, Entertainment Weekly, TMZ, E! News, Rolling Stone, Business Insider, Wall Street Journal, The New York Times Entertainment section, and Yahoo Entertainment news. 5.  Questionable sites that sometimes get things wrong but are usually at least partly correct include:  Winter is Coming, Io9, Syfy Wire, Screen Rant, and Bleeding Cool.     Screen Rant and Bleeding Cool are the most accurate of these. You would think Syfy Wire (formerly known as Blastr, and before that Scifi Wire) would be more reliable as it is owned by NBC / Universal but it is run by interns who do not know much about the genre and often would rather be working in the Sports department.  They once posted an article of Top ten werewolves and put Evil Ed from the 1985 Fright Night on the list.  Ed is a vampire. He can turn into a wolf like the vampires in Dracula but he IS a vampire, not a werewolf and most fans know this. Last year there was a rumor circulating that Michael Sheen was playing the show's Lucifer.  Neil shot down the rumor relatively quickly but I figured out that the information was partly correct.  He was Lucifer, just not for the Netflix show.  He was Lucifer for The Sandman audio drama. 6.   If you see a piece of Sandman news you are not certain about, make sure more than one site (preferably a trust worthy site) posted something similar recently. 7.   Do not trust sites with names you are not familiar with.  Many sites are actually bot sites designed to copy and paste articles and swap out words from a thesaurus to look slightly different.   I spotted one early on that barely looked English and called the Sandman a "Comedy tome" in place of the words "Comic book." 8.   Never trust an article that ends with a question mark.  Exaggerated examples:  "is Morpheus going to be played by Whoopi Goldberg?" or "Will Death now be the main villain?"  That question mark is the author protecting themselves because the news is just a rumor or speculation or even out-right made up. 9.  Many articles are based solely on short Twitter posts.   Sometimes you get more accurate info just by following Neil Gaiman's Twitter and Tumblr accounts. They also easily misinterpret those sort of posts.

When Morpheus appeared briefly in an episode of Rick and Morty Neil said "Oh, good." And one site ran with that Twitter post to be sarcastic and gave it a headline of "Neil Gaiman hates the idea of Sandman appearing in Rick and Morty!"  And Neil had to reply with "No, I was serious when I said 'Oh, good.'"

10.   Follow all confirmed people involved in the show on social media.  Also pay attention to tiny details like known filming locations.  Then research, sometimes "hours studio is closed to the public" are publicly accessible.

Good luck.  Keep your ear to the ground and don't trust everything you see or read. 

Ring of Thorns

Title: Ring of Thorns Written by: @tisfan​ 3023 Square: S3 – Science and Magic Rating: teen and up Triggers/warnings: none Tags: space AU, fairy tale format, sassy Jarvis, bunnies, a truly excessive number of bunnies, pre-slash Created for: @tonystarkbingo​ Word count: 3919 Art from @gayspacesprinkles​ (unrelated to the bingo!)

Ship’s log: Stardate 5239.281.5

Woke from hypersleep on schedule -- thank you JARVIS. 

“You are welcome, sir.”

The Ring of Thorns is about two days on the sublight engines, which should give me plenty of time to make any course corrections. Course corrections. I say that like anyone has any idea where the best entrance is to the Ring. Several thousand cloaked glass arrows, left over from a war three centuries ago.

JARVIS’s records indicate that a single glass arrow has the explosive capacity to knock a good sized hole in the Malibu, which I have to say, is not an ideal solution. Even with crude calculations of where the bombs were originally seeded -- and let me tell you, that particular chart was not easy to procure -- we don’t know how much stellar drift has moved them. Dozens of ships have tried to fly into the Ring.

All have been, thus far, unsuccessful.

Pieces of the wreckage will add to the difficulty of successfully navigating the field.

I want it noted for the record, if I don’t succeed, I want you to tell Captain Amer -- no scratch that. I always know what I’m doing. This plan I’m gonna try and pull off tomorrow, it's got me scratching my head about the survivability of it all. What am I even tripping for? Everything's gonna workout exactly the way it's supposed to.

Stardate 5239.282.9

“Set for separation, J?”

“We are set, sir,” JARVIS said. He was the ship’s AI, navigation, piloting, engineering, physician. He served to take the place several key members of a ship’s crew. He was not, however, supposed to be the only other crewmate on a ship the size of the Malibu.

He was, because no one believed Mr. Stark that they could make it through the ring to whatever treasure planet was tucked away inside it.

JARVIS went because he was an AI and because Mr. Stark was his maker. But even if JARVIS had entire free will and he had some, because he was the one steering the ship, he probably wouldn’t have done anything differently. He could have refused to take Mr. Stark at all. Probably. He’d never really tried directly rebelling, and sometimes when he was feeling philosophical, he wondered if that was because he couldn’t rebel, or because Mr. Stark had not been wrong yet, and thus, rebelling was a waste of time. 

Mr. Stark would, after all, prove everyone wrong.

And JARVIS wanted to be there, to record all of it.

Truthfully, JARVIS himself wasn’t at risk; he had two backup units hidden away. But if something happened to this version, well, the story would never be told. And he couldn’t have that, could he?

“Remember, sir, close--”

“But not too close, I got it. We got this. Launch the dummy section.”

“Piloting remotely,” JARVIS said. He separated the dummy section of the ship, broad and ugly with the best forward shields that money could buy. He should know. He’d purchased them. And then Mr. Stark had improved them.

The dummy section looked like, in all honesty, like a flying brick. But that was all right. All it had to do was shield the smaller craft behind it. 

“Let’s plow the road, JARVIS,” Mr. Stark said.

“As you say, sir.”

Stardate 5239.282.11

“Well, that could have been worse,” Tony said. He was breathing hard, and his hands were shaking. Sweat dripped down the back of his flight suit. But he was alive.

 He landed the smaller, more maneuverable craft inside the docking ring.

“Allow me to inform you, sir, there are four glass arrows affixed to the hull--”

“You just have to ruin my moment,” Tony complained. “Can I get a countdown, or is that too much to ask?” He was already unlocking his piloting harness, grabbed a stim patch on his way past the console -- he’d need to be on his mettle if he was going to disarm bombs without detonating them instead and all the juice from his hectic ride through the Ring had dissipated.

“They are quiescent, at the moment, sir,” JARVIS told him. “But core deterioration suggests they are not supposed to be in an atmosphere with oxygen, and they will explode soon enough.”

“Wait, there’s life support in the hanger?” 

“It would appear so, sir.”

“Why?” The Ring of Thorns had been in place for several hundred years at least. There was no reason for life support to still be functional.

“I shan’t hazard a guess at this remove,” JARVIS said. 

“Can we vent the docking bay?” Tony had more than enough O2 in his suit, as he hadn’t been expecting any such systems to still be in place.

“No, sir,” JARVIS said. “I was able to override the security systems to get us inside by claiming emergency repairs. The system will not let us out until the proper codes have been entered. As well as sudden venting often disrupts seemingly stationary objects--”

“Yeah, yeah, no need to turn the room into a pinball machine. All right, I’m on it.”

Tony had removed three of the bombs -- truly elegant, lethal little things. They were no bigger than two fingers wide and about four times as long, concealed by a mirror-shield that bent light around it, showing up as flecks of black and the occasional flash of light in a starfield. No propellant, no heat reading, not even any traceable particles emissions. Old school explosives. Not quite all the way back to pipebombs with horseshoe nails mixed in, but still. Household chemicals.

Ions only knew what the people who made them were thinking when they mixed them up and set them loose in space to guard their station and their planet.

They were all dead, at least.

Theoretically. No one could get close enough to tell.

“Uh, sir,” JARVIS said. “You have company. Turn around very slowly.”

Tony didn’t quite raise his hands, but he was expecting to see someone armed and presumably dangerous.

What he saw instead was-- an animal? With white and tan fur covering its entire body, including a set of very long ears. Red eyes peered at him curiously and the creature took a few hopping steps closer.

“JARVIS,” Tony muttered, keeping his eyes on the creature, “what is it?”

“A Lagomorpha, particularly a subset of Leporidae. Known as oryctolagus cuniculus domesticus, or more commonly, a bunny rabbit.”

“Does it eat-- meat?” Tony was an awfully big meal, but as he watched the-- rabbit-- carefully, he noticed there were more.

A lot more.

“I daresay, sir, unless the species has evolved along another path,” JARVIS said, “they are primarily interested in grasses, fruits, and vegetables. A garden pest, as they were described in older zoology reports. And, to some degree, a pet.”

“People pet them?” Tony wondered, looking around. They were fluffy and sort of cute. Some of them sat up on their hind legs to look closer at Tony.

“Other people raised them for food and fur stock,” JARVIS continued.

Tony took a step forward and the lead rabbit thumped his foot several times against the deck plating. Other rabbits took up the signal and stamped as well, until the entire facility was ringing like being inside a drum.

Tony found himself on the floor, hands clapped over his ears. By the time the noise stopped, three or four of the bunnies were very close to Tony, noses wiggling curiously. One of them hopped all the way up to him, put a soft paw on his knee and poked its face directly at his chin.

“I’m not made of food,” Tony told it, and he went to shoo it away, but he touched it instead.

Oh. Oh, it was so soft. Oh, Ions, so soft. He let himself sit down, let them hop up to him, sniffing curiously.

“It seems they have never seen a human, either, sir,” JARVIS commented.

“Do, uh, we have anything we could feed them? What are they even eating around here?”

“A closer look at the scans, sir,” JARVIS said, “the hydroponics bays seem to have overrun most of the station. They’ve been living in a perfect bunny paradise. All the food they could want, and no predators.”

“Sounds lovely,” Tony said, and one of the bunnies hopped into his lap and proceeded to turn around a few times before flopping over and going to sleep. “Although, gotta say, a cargo bay of rabbits wasn’t what I was hoping to find.”

Riches, technological artifacts, answers. Especially answers. What had happened here, why had the people gone silent, or died? Why did they leave behind such elaborate traps?

“We could set up a fur trade, sir,” JARVIS suggested and Tony could have sworn that every single bunny in the room gave him the stink eye. All at once. It was chilling. 

“Yeeaaah, think I’m gonna go with no on that one, JARVIS,” Tony said. “Do you think there’s anyway to explain kaboom to them, because if I don’t get that last glass arrow off the hull, we’re all going to be in the fur trade.”

“You neglected to add lapine language skills to my databanks, sir,” JARVIS said.

“Smart ass AI,” Tony muttered, nudging the black bunny out of his lap. “Shoo. Go fetch. Something. Do you fetch? Yeah, go… go find a-- what to rabbits eat?”

“Strictly speaking, their diet is a mix of alfalfa and--”

“Whatever. Go… have a smoothie. Look, if you go into the galley on my ship, DUM-E will make you smoothies, go go.”

They didn’t go go or shoo shoo, but they did back up a little or hopped away as he stood up. He had to watch his feet as he moved back over to the ship, grabbing for the wrench. “Switch it up, JARVIS,” he said, and JARVIS triggered the color changing squares on the outside of the ship, one at a time, until Tony could physically locate the glass arrow, and only because he was looking really closely. The arrow changed colors, too, but at a slightly -- very slightly -- slower rate.

And then Tony was able to find it by touch, sliding his hand over the panel until he encountered a small projection. 

Once removed from the ship, the colors swirled again until what Tony held in his hands was flesh and floor and bunny colored. The biologics didn’t blend as easily, they weren’t mathematical or predictable, so once he had it away from the hull, it was a lot easier to look at. 

For something called a glass arrow, it was neither. More like a flat, thin package with a few grooves at each end. Not really accurate, but evocative, the imagery, he meant. Twisting the tail end, he slowly removed the detonation packet, wrapped in hyper thin plastics. Once that package was out, the arrow itself was rendered mostly harmless. Except that Tony would feel better getting all of it off the ship. 

He found a couple of rolling bins in the docking bay, emptied them of the tools they contained, and then loaded the explosives into them. “Can I space this shit, or is the airlock broken, too?”

“The south side airlock appears fully functional, sir,” JARVIS told him. Tony grabbed a couple of remote-automatics and affixed them to the sides of the bins. Station gravity would eventually grab anything floating in proximity to the station; it had taken quite a few murderers getting caught before they realized you could not, in fact, just junk a body out an airlock.

But you could fire one into the nearest star. Which is what the remote-automatics were for. Small, one shot of fuel, affixable to a trash or discarded object -- or even at some of the largest ring world systems, to move supplies through space -- to propel them away. Once in motion, they’d stay in motion until a larger gravity well swallowed them up.

“Bombs away,” Tony said, setting the bins into the airlock. He sealed the inner door, opened the outer door, and then flew the trash off into space. The nearest star was several weeks away by sub light propulsion. Unless it hit a few of its cousins while out there, in which case, he could expect a pretty pretty boom in a few hours.

“Always so observant, sir,” JARVIS said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, pushing away from the porthole. “You got anything for me yet?”

“Their mainframe systems are so old as to be little better than hand-cranked automobiles, sir,” JARVIS said. “I’m having difficulty navigating their systems without overwhelming them. That said, the system suggests you might find an interpreter on the eighth deck, C-section.”

“I am not delivering a baby on this station,” Tony swore and chuckled to himself. It wouldn’t take JARVIS that long to find the reference -- it had always been a bit of a challenge with them. Could Tony, in fact, find a historical or cultural reference so old that JARVIS didn’t have access to it.

So far the answer had always been no.

Tony grabbed several tools to help him around the ship; a crowbar for opening unruly doors, as well as more electronic overrides. MagmaTorch, if he had to go through the door. 

The vegetation was even thicker in the hallways. “Where are the plants getting food from?” Because really, dirt was a thing, even if Tony didn’t like standing on it. There was a thick coating of moss on the floor in places, and Tony found himself stepping around it. He did squat down long enough to take a sample, and send it off to JARVIS to analyze. 

“Sample shows a flourishing, if unusual, ecosystem, sir,” JARVIS told him. “The sample appears to be similar to compost. Organic waste, sir.”

“Rabbit shit?”

“It’s likely the first plants would have started in the hydroponics area; if they outgrew their containers, they would have likely encountered fertilizer and soil samples there. My map of the station shows that system-recycling was only a deck below.”

“Old human shit,” Tony rephrased.

“And bodies that weren’t spaced, food waste, biological waste.” Many places stored that up, condensed into cubes, packed into bags, and then sold to terraforming colonies. Probably the same sort of idea. It was being used for its intended purpose, then, if not necessarily its intended place. “The ship’s lighting system has stayed on, providing material for photosynthesis. Since the late twenty-fifth century all human space-going vehicles utilize solar lamps to prevent crew depression, mood swings, and the inability to digest certain foods.”

“Yeah, we’re made for gravity and sunlight,” Tony said. He paused to force a door to the companionway. The ladders stretched up and down several levels, slightly offset to prevent a bad fall from becoming a fatal flaw. Smart. “So they’re not in any immediate danger of being wiped out?”

“The power banks are currently still at half capacity. With such a slow rate of decay, even without intelligent interference, this colony could continue on without problems for another three or four hundred years.”

“What are they using to power this place?” 

JARVIS continued to analyze the station, providing more and more obscure data and facts. Frankly, Tony stopped entirely listening. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested, but there were also interesting things--

He stopped in a long hallway with doors spaced equally, and pushed one open. Crew quarters, right? Had to be…

The room was empty. Not just of crew, he really was not expecting a skeleton -- or maybe he was -- but also of artifacts. It was just empty. Bed cubby with no mattress, desk with no terminal or ports. Closet with no clothes.

“People did used to live here, didn’t they?”

“Records suggest that this station had a population of approximately twenty-thousand human beings at the time that contact with the greater galaxy ended.”

“What the hell happened to twenty-thousand people? I mean, even if the rabbits ate them--”

“Let me remind you, sir, that rabbits are primarily vegetarian,” JARVIS said.

“Thanks, you might need to keep reminding me of that--”

He wasn’t going to be able to close that door again, since a handful of rabbits had followed him in, and he wasn’t sure how to get them out again. They didn’t really seem like herd creatures to him. And while they’d been surviving perfectly well on their own, he didn’t really want them to starve to death because of him. Right?

It was a working theory, at least. No rabbit murdering.

He made it all the way to 8th-deck, Section C. Finally. Plants. A lot of them, too. And more rabbits. 

“What exactly am I looking for here?” Tony wondered. He pushed his way through thicker plants, almost jungle-like in their sheer stubbornness to give way.

“I might say you’ll know it when you see it, sir,” JARVIS said, “which would be quite helpful, since I’m entirely uncertain--”

“Oh.”

That.

Stardate 5239.283.02

“I don’t believe the situation is going to change, no matter how long you keep staring,” JARVIS commented.

“Sarcastic, I like that.”

“I know that, sir.”

“Still. This is not something I want to jump into right away. I mean, when the station AI--”

“It’s not an AI sir, the station’s computer systems are significantly less advanced in all ways--”

“Don’t be petty. It’s beneath you.”

“As I don’t, in fact, have a corporeal body, sir, you might add that everything is beneath me. Or nothing is beneath me. An interesting question for the next time you feel philosophical.”

“Which does not answer any of my current philosophical questions,” Tony said. “Like who is this guy, why is he asleep in that thing, and will he die immediately if we try to wake him up?”

“Probably not immediately,” JARVIS said. “He’s hardly a vampire and going to poof into dust at exposure to sunlight.”

“What?”

“I beg your pardon sir, I was looking up some of the various mythology typical to this station at the time. Did you know they believed the whole place was cursed?”

“Of course they did,” Tony said. “Also, why would I know that? How could I possibly know that-- cursed? What even does cursed mean?”

“A curse is the belief that powerful entities can take an interest in humans,” JARVIS said. “Faeries, witches, demigods and deities, for example. When these humans do something wrong, or offensive, or are in some cases, just being used as scapegoats for a powerful creature, that leads to a curse. A series of misfortunes that cannot be averted, except by a single act. Sometimes it’s ridiculously complicated, like when the moon loses her child if it happens in a week when two Mondays come together. And sometimes, all that takes to break a curse is true love’s first kiss.”

“Like that’s not complicated,” Tony complained. “So you’re saying I should kiss the guy awake to break the curse?”

“Much in the case of a week with two Mondays, sir,” JARVIS said, “you might want to take into consideration that your blood and cells are filled with--”

“Aesculapian nanintes,” Tony breathed. Which repaired injuries, protected him from disease and posion, and vastly extended his life span. Most infants born on Tony’s planet inherited some of them from their parents, but often required a booster injection every twenty years. And, in emergencies, you could share your nanintes with someone else, to heal their wounds.

Tony had gotten a booster shot last year, on his fortieth birthday, which meant his system was currently in top form.

“The fastest way to share nanites--”

“Is fluid transfer.”

“A kiss,” Tony corrected, directing a smug smile in no particular direction. JARVIS could see him.

“Indeed, sir, I’m so glad you thought of it.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Flounder,” JARVIS responded. “Badly.”

“Wow, you didn’t even hesitate with that one.”

Tony studied the casing a little while longer. The man was dressed entirely in white, except for a black cap where his left arm had been, he had long hair and just a hint of a beard. If Tony had to guess, he’d say the man had gone into some sort of healing tube while a replacement limb was vat-grown for him. Nanites could mend split skin and broken bones, but it wasn’t much good at regrowing parts entirely.

But Tony didn’t see any sort of vat system at all. Maybe they kept that somewhere else.

Theoretically, Tony’s nanites would keep the man alive, long enough to ask some questions, to find the bioregen chambers, or their historical equivalent. Get some answers, provide some aid. Something.

And, also, very quietly, to himself, where even JARVIS couldn’t hear him.

Tony might actually want to kiss the man.

He was stunningly, almost shockingly beautiful. His cheeks were just perfect, and the chin, with the hint of a cleft. Full, kissable lips, parted just a little. Long lashes. Tony didn’t know what color his eyes were, but he liked to think they were blue. Tony felt like he could see… everything.

“Sir?”

“Yeah?”

“Your brain is producing an increased amount of vasopressin, adrenaline, dopamine, and oxytocin.”

“Yeah?”

“And I believe you are experiencing mydriasis-- it’s a nerve reaction that causes your pupils to dilate,” JARVIS went on.

“Which means what?”

“Quite honestly, sir,” JARVIS said. “I think you are, as the poets would say, falling in love.”

“Yeah?” Tony found he didn’t quite care. It was almost like being drunk, a warm, fuzzy sort of feeling that just, made him generally happy. He wanted to share that with someone. A very specific someone.

He wasn’t sure how he knew which button to push, but the top of the tube slid away, and the man inside took a slow, stuttering breath.

“It’s all right,” Tony told him. “I’m here to rescue you.”

He leaned in, mouth open slightly, and kissed the man he hadn’t even really met. It was more than love at first meeting, it was--

A very nice kiss, warm, soothing, soft, with just a little heat in it.

The man pulled away, licked his lips as if tasting Tony on them and gazed up at him. “Uh… aren’t you a little short to be a stormtrooper?”

“What?” Tony blinked, then blinked again. “How-- how do you know Star Wars? That is Star Wars you’re quoting, right, late 20th century cinema? I-- I’m a--”

The man struggled to sit, and Tony helped him until he could swing his legs over the side. “So, uh, question-- who are you, and why is there a rabbit on top of my stasis tube?”

“Um, my name is Tony Stark,” Tony said.

“Bucky Barnes,” the man said. “Uh, nice to meet you. Great kiss by the way, hell of a wake up call. Is my unit waiting for me--”

“Uh, no, no, probably not.”

Bucky stared around the room, from the bunny to the greenery to the bunny, and then back to Tony. “How long? How long was I asleep?”

“I can’t say exactly, but-- it’s been at least three hundred years since we last had contact with this station.”

“Oh.” Bucky took a deep breath, and then another one, and a third. “Oh. I guess… I guess she won.”

“Who? Who did this to you? What happened here?”

“Hydra did this to me. Mother of serpents and dragons. A witch. It’s a long story.”

“I-- don’t think there’s any such thing as witches,” Tony said, hesitantly.

“Oh, there are,” Bucky said. “Believe me. There are.”

A/n -  art from @gayspacesprinkles​ isn’t it LOVELY!? Now stop screaming, I already have a part 2 planned for this.

Twisted Wonderland: Academic Headcanons pt.4

(Last of part of these headcanons, yay! Btw, I am up for taking requests if y’all have any.)

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- Beauty is all that matters to this gentleman; shame the teachers can’t grade him on that. Vil’s grades are average, chemistry being the only exception, he is inexplicably talented in that particular discipline.

- Has mastered the art of multitasking, will study while also going through his morning routine; his textbooks may have a few smudges of eyeshadow or foundation along the pages. He’ll read through the chapter once, then go back and check on the terms. For chemistry, Vil will test the information himself in the lab. With Professor Crewel’s blessing, of course.

- All of his notes are written with the finest pen and in the most elegant cursive you will ever witness in the modern age; Vil claims it’s completely unintentional, but every compliment on his handwriting gives him an extra confidence boost (I can personally affirm that this does, in fact, happen, and it’s great). Each chapter has a heading to indicate the subject and terms are listed in a group dedicated to whatever that section of the book was discussing. His chemistry notebook has a periodic table drawn on the front cover and he keeps an ongoing list of formulas on the back.

- Is rather indifferent to study groups. There has to be a few conditions before he’ll accept; a) Leona can not be invited, b) gossip needs to be appreciated, c) he’s in charge of all experimentations, and d) Leona can not be anywhere near the location they’re meeting at. He’s not welcomed at the Heartlabyul study group due to his tendency to “constructively criticize” Riddle on his appearance and choice of decor.

- Prefers the show-and-tell method, assuming it’s chemistry you need help in. Vil will take position at the dry erase board, while you watch from the desks, answering your questions with flamboyant descriptions and a few visual aids. A firm believer in lab safety, he’ll insist you wear the appropriate attire. Expect to stay for the clean up. Over all, he’s a good tutor and knows how to simplify the lesson in a way you can understand.

Epel Felmier:

- Above average, but not so much that it catches attention. He’s a good student, but never calls attention to himself.

- Epel will usually read through the chapters a few times, and will make up little games to test his knowledge of the terms.

- His notes are short, to the point, and are written with a hard leaded pencil (the trail is light). There are small doodles of webs, plants, sometimes broken glass in the boxed off corners of his notebook paper. Occasionally he’ll write questions regarding philosophical arguments in the margins.

- He seems distant when socializing, which doesn’t give others the impression that he’d be fond of joining a study group. If anyone cared to ask, Epel would calmly accept the invitation. Most of the time would be spent merely observing the others while looking over terms.

- Like Ruggie, he wouldn’t enjoy tutoring you. Having him as a study budy might be a little uncomfortable at first, due to the lack of idle chatter. If you stick it out, though, you’ll come to appreciate the tranquil silence between you two.

Rook Hunt:

- Well, Rook is certainly not a boring student. He’ll often ask Professor Crewel if a substance is lethal; if anyone questions why he wants to know, he'll cheerfully reply with an unconvincing, "no reason." His grades are decent enough, and he always turns in his papers when they’re due, so it’s not like anyone can complain.

- Will flip through the chapter at the oddest of times, posing as if there’s a camera man hidden away somewhere. Sometimes he’ll take a page from Epel’s book and make some fun memory games....although, Rook’s games are rather-erm, unconventional.

- Refuses to use a notebook, instead he’ll write in the margins of his textbook or highlight the important parts. If he likes an underclassman, they might find one of his old textbooks conveniently left at the foot of their door.

- Also indifferent to the study group experience. If he’s required to study with someone, Rook would make an effort to get paired up with someone “beautiful”.

- Look, I’m gonna be honest. You should NEVER ask him for help, ok? Rooks idea of tutoring is putting an apple on your head and threatening to shoot an arrow at it if you get a problem wrong. He might be less severe if you’re a “beautiful” person, but really, is his knowledge worth the risk?

Diasomnia

Maleus Draconia:

- Valedictorian of his year, no doubt. Mal expects only the best from himself, and that’s exactly what he gets.

- Has a specific time and place in the Diasomnia common room, known as the “throne” to the members, where he’ll camp out with his textbooks, notebooks, and writing utensils. Everyone observers his study time, and will make themselves scarce before then. Maleus will typically page through the chapter, read it through, writes out everything he could recall from reading, then checks to make sure he got everything; afterwards he’ll look over his notes to solidify the information. Works every time.

- His notes look like a page out of a story book; everything is written in calligraphy, is evenly spaced along the lines, and the margins are adorned with elaborate decals. There’s a fountain pen that practically lives in his coat pocket just for taking notes.

- Most of his classmates are deterred by his intimidating aura, Other than Vil and the rest of the Diasomnia dorm, so he doesn’t get invited to study groups. Not that he minds, Mal is rather fond of his privacy.

- You actually had the courage to walk up and ask THE MALEUS for help? Kudos to you! He’ll recover from the initial surprise quickly and might actually agree as a reward of sorts. If you haven't visitedthe Diasomia dorm before, now is your chance. Mall will be lounging in his throne and insist you sit at the coffee table to remind you of your place give you something to write on, of course! He is a strict tutor and expects you to pay attention, refusing to explain anything more than once.

Lilia Vanrouge:

- Purposefully screws up his grades just to piss off the teachers. Everyone knows he could easily outdo Maleus, Lilia just doesn’t see the point in that. Besides, the look on Mozus’s face is worth it!

- No one has ever seen him study, not even Maleus. Some believe he doesn’t at all. He has yet to confirm this.

-Are those notes? No one can tell! Lilia writes everything in a language not found in any text in the library or on the internet. Maleus suspects it’s some ancient form of Sylvan, but even he is incapable of translating it.

- Lilia is well known for randomly popping into study groups without warning nor an invitation. He likes the look of utter shock on everyone’s face, along with their growing rage at his charming little insults. Before the volcano of unadulterated chaos bursts, he pops back out to only god knows where.

- The last thing you remember is the toothy grin on Lilia's face as you thanked that red eyed imp for agreeing to tutor you. Next thing you know, you’re smack dab in the middle of a mushroom ring at five a.m., cold sweat beading across your brow with no memory of the last thirty six hours. On the plus side, you know all of the answers to your next test! Worth it, right?

Silver:

- Silver is passing his classes, but that’s it. He’s not particularly driven to do well in school, his only goal is stay close to Mal until the right moment...whatever that means.

-Needs to study more often than he does. At the moment, Silv will only study when he can’t be by the side of the dorm master (So Mal’s mandatory study time is also his mandatory study time). He has terrible insomnia and will nod off while reading through the chapter.

- His notes are rather lacking. He’ll jot down some terms and their definitions but not much else. Some places have spot of drool from one of his unintentional naps.

- Refuses to join study groups after that one time Lilia drew on his face after he nodded off. Poor boy can never trust again.

- He’s not much of a talker, isn’t driven to study, and might nodd off in the middle of a conversation; there’s surely a better person to ask for help from?

Sebek Zigvolt:

- A straight laced student with the determination of a soldier, Sebek is determined to live up to Maleus’s example. He has a tendency to fall into a state of depression when he doesn’t do so well on his exams; Thankfully, he works hard to earn his good grades, so that isn’t common occurrence.

- He has a ruthless study regimen that soaks up a large chunk of his days. Sebek uses every study method under the sun to ensure his success.

- His notes are just as strict and obsessive as he is.

- Maleus-sama teach me your ways. Sebek is actually thrilled by the idea of joining a study group. Classmates working together to improve their academic careers is right up his alley! Too bad no one else appreciates his intensity.

- Don’t ask him to tutor you. Once you cross that line there is no turning back! Sebek will push you just as hard as he does himself, even after you fire him as your tutor! It’s kind of a sweet gesture when you think about it; he genuinely wants to help you succeed as a student.... Would be even sweeter if his methods didn’t push you to the brink of insanity; but what can you do, right?

The Lines Were Blurred

Frank Castle (Punisher) One-Shot from prompt idea

A/N: I received an Anon request for Frank from an unbelievably patient Anon with the following prompts from “100 Dialogue Prompts to Break a Reader’s Heart”: 42. “I’ve spent all this time wondering and worrying about you. You didn’t think of me once?”, 83. “You never get what you want. Haven’t you learnt that by now?”, and 86. “I should never have trusted you.”. Because it worked SO well with the reader paring from “Your Side of the Line”, I decided to make this into the Part 2 of that.

Following your captain’s odd but simple assignment, you were more than a little stunned to find Frank Castle at the site.

Warning: Swear words and a bit of angst. No spoilers though

NOTE: If you want to be on a Frank (or everything) tag list, let me know :)

A dead body. It was definitely the body of a large, dead man crumpled in a heap at the bottom of the stairs that led to the warehouse's side entrance. 

Shit.

Drawing your sidearm, you ignored the rush of adrenaline as you leaned into your shoulder mic.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” a gruff voice interrupted from behind you.

Spinning on your heel, you raised your gun, levelling it at the chest of the man standing there. His hands were already up, palms facing you.

“Shh, shh, shhh, hey...Y/n, it's me.”

Frank fucking Castle.

Of course.

It was supposed to be a simple shift. Odd, but simple.

But, the second your captain sent you on your own to canvass a neighbourhood near where a child had gone missing, a quiet red flag started waving in the back of your mind. The assignment was innocent enough -  basic door-to-door duty. But alone? You assumed each unit was being split up to cover as much ground as the precinct could in a short amount of time. But it was still odd.

When you arrived at your section, another red flag rose. It wasn't even a residential area.

As you got out of your squad car, there was something so thick about the air that your curiosity shifted to concern. You couldn't explain it, but something was wrong. Finding the body was almost a relief. If nothing else, your gut feeling was still trustworthy. 

Finding Frank there, however...

Keeping your eyes on him, you nodded to the body behind you. “Was that your handiwork?”

“Yes, it was. And there were two more stationed in the back.” There was no hint of shame in his tone as he firmly stated the fact.

“Dammit, Frank, I never should have trusted you.  I asked you not to put me-”

Everything inside of you froze as his words repeated in your mind. Stationed. Stationed in the location you were sent to.

"Why...why would you say stationed?”

Eyeing your gun for a moment, Frank slowly relaxed his hands. “Because it isn't just Homeland involved. Turns out they needed local allies on the ground.”

Glancing to the side, it didn't take long to process his implication. Your captain was involved. The red flags from that assignment weren't the first to be raised in your mind – he was a bit of a hothead and sometimes his judgment felt rash. But this?  

Swallowing heavily, the strength seemed to drain from your arms as you lowered your weapon. “No. No, that can't be right. It doesn't make sense.”

Narrowing his eyes, Frank tilted his head to look past your shoulder at the body on the ground. “Is that right? I'm not sure how else you explain why you were sent, alone, to an abandoned warehouse where there were three hired guns waiting for you.”

A sinking feeling pulled at your gut, the truth settling in well before you were ready to accept it. “What makes you think they were hired? How do I know they weren't just a group of homeless people taking shelter here or something?”

Sighing, Frank raked his fingers through his short hair. His jacket opened slightly as he lifted his arm and you could see the bulletproof vest strapped to his chest. You didn't miss the blood splatter. "They knew how to handle themselves. I'm willing to bet that if you ran their names, you’d see they're former military and worked with a few security companies in the city. It fits the profile of the mercs Homeland trusts to do its dirty work on home soil." 

And they were there for you.

“Even if I believed that, it still doesn't explain why they're here.”

After running his hand down his face, and pausing long enough to rub his fingers against his eyelids, he dropped his arms in a shrug. “My guess is they either know you won't play ball...or they think you know something.”

“And what do they think I know, Frank?” The sick feeling that crawled up your throat quickly turned into a little, angry flame. Even though you knew the answer, you couldn't stop yourself from asking.

“Me...I'm guessing. Our connection wasn't exactly a secret.”

The little flame exploded into a hot, roaring fire that raced through your chest.

“Goddammit, Frank!” Roughly, you slammed your gun back into its holster before you thought about using it.

Dropping his gaze, the muscles in his cheek rolled as he clenched his jaw but stayed quiet.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Since you left my apartment that day, I've spent all this time wondering and worrying about you. You didn't even think of me once? You didn't stop to think that this crusade of yours might lead back to my doorstep? Especially once they realize it's you?”

His nostrils flared as his eyes snapped back to yours. “Didn't think of you, huh? What the hell do you think I'm doing here then? It's not my fault your boss is crooked, but you can bet your ass I've been watching you ever since I figured it out.”

Balling your hands into tight fists, you felt your knuckles popping from the pressure. Your words were forced through grit teeth. “I don't want to be a part of this. I just want to go to work, do my job, and go home again.”

Softly scoffing, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah well, you never get what you want. Haven't you learnt that by now?”

“Fuck you, Frank.”

He stared at you as his eyebrows shot up. “Fuck me? Fu-”

Letting out a hard huff, he gave his head a sharp shake. “Fine. Yeah, sure, fuck me then. Fuck me. But if you don't get your head out of your ass, you're going to get yourself killed or worse.”

You couldn't help your glare as you pushed back your NYPD jacket to plant your hands on your hips. “Oh, worse?”

Frank's eyes softened as he watched you, the brief show of anger quickly melting away. “These men might not have been sent to kill you. If they do realize I’m the one coming for them, they might be here to try and find out what you know about me. And if that's the case...death would be a welcomed relief.”

Your moment of anger also died away as the gravity of your situation hit. Dropping your hands, you crossed your arms over your chest, like you could hide the sudden shift. Hesitantly, you glanced over your shoulder. “So...so what am I supposed to do then?”

Pulling something out from his jacket pocket, he reached his hand towards you, nodding to take it. It was a handful of nails and screws. As you stared at the random assortment of sharp objects, your eyebrows tightly pulled together.

The softness of Frank's expression extended to his deep voice as he explained. "You go back up the street, three blocks from here. That's the start of the security camera blackout zone they set up. You get out, throw this under your tire and roll over them until you get a flat."

Slowly, you raised your gaze until you were staring at him with confusion. As his dark eyes bore into yours, you realized he had closed the gap and the faint smell of leather drifted over to you. The scent was like a stab to your chest as you realized just how much you missed it.

"Blackout zone? How do yo-"

“Don't ask me how I know, just trust me. You can't call this in. I'll take care of these guys, but your captain can't know you made it this far. All he can know is you got a flat up the street and never had the chance to canvass this area, got it?”

If they did suspect you had information on Frank, this would at least buy you some time.

A calm fell over you like a blanket as you pocketed the handful of nails. Frank was right – it wasn't his fault your captain was dirty. Your captain, and likely several of your colleagues, made a choice and it's one he knew you would never make. Even if Frank wasn't involved, you'd still be in a bad situation, only you would be completely oblivious.

“And then what am I supposed to do?”

Frank's eyebrows relaxed as you all but agreed to do as he told you. “Take whatever vacation time you have left – a relative out of state died or something. If you won't actually leave town, then you need to at least lie low at Curtis'. You'll be safe there.”

Of course Curtis would be involved.

“And before you get back, put in for a transfer to a different precinct. You won't be safe here until this is done. I'd suggest Brett Mahoney's station.”

That name was familiar. “He's...pretty far outside of my territory though. I don't know that-”

“Then move in with Curtis, he's right nearby. Hell, tell them you’re deeply in love and use the move as your reason for transferring,” he said sharply, cutting you off.

Pursing your lips together, you nodded. It wasn't the time for doubt. The numb blanket hardened around you – it was the time for following what appeared to be a decent plan.

“Got it?”

Nodding again, you offered a small, half-smile. As he returned it with a hollow, lopsided grin, you were suddenly aware again of how close you were. Something inside screamed out to lean into him, to hold him, to let your lips find his. Forcing that back, you set your hand on his arm and gave a gentle squeeze.  

The lines were blurred, but you didn't need to make it worse.

“Thanks.”

Grunting quietly, he shuffled his heavy boots in the gravel as he moved out of your way. 

It was supposed to be a simple shift.

Taglist:  @foreverfaeries  @flower-two  @getlostinyourparadise   @selfishkiddo @angelicshinigami  @kingccbsblog   @natsukitakama  @kchavez666  @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @cattpaws @mysteryoflovve @castleadixon​

Covert Operations - Chapter 29

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS: Madeline has a new target in the White Room to interrogate and one that refuses to cooperate. Section One’s leader, Operations calls a briefing meeting to outline the Intel de Marillac has disclosed about other members of the Rising Dragons especially a Madame Cheung. Claire Beauchamp’s angst is exacerbated when her superiors outline her role in the new mission.

N.B. This chapter contains a situation of a violent nature.

THANK YOU so much for reading, taking the time to write a comment, liking this fiction and for the reblogs as well.  I love reading your comments as they give me clues in how to shape this story.  It is very gratifying to know that you are enjoying this tale of life in Section One for our two protagonists ... the good and the bad.  

Previous chapters can be found ...  https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

 CHAPTER 29 (V)

Madeline made her way along the labyrinth of corridors to the White Room, located deep within the bowels of Section One, where interrogations were performed and where her newest target  ... the Canadian Ambassador ... awaited her restrained in a steel chair.

An expert at extracting Intel from hostile captives and in evaluating and manipulating Section operatives, Section One’s Second in Command, Level 9 and Chief Strategist could be positively Machiavellian at times. For the first time in days the woman who specialized in psych analysis, profiling, interrogation, and torture techniques smiled, albeit her trademark Mona Lisa smile, because of the adrenaline rushing through her body at the prospect of accomplishing what she had planned for this target.

Having worked her way up in the ranks of Section One over the past twenty years, with cunning, determination and manipulation, Madeline was a conundrum herself. Accused of killing her sister, Sarah, by pushing her down the stairs she, like most operatives was recruited from prison. She had no compunction for the terrorists who found their way to the White Room or for that matter, for any operative who tried to buck the system and would willingly manipulate anyone, including herself, to achieve her ends. Her angelic sweetness, diabolical intelligence, phlegmatic appearance coupled with her strategic patience and iced charm made her a formidable adversary. Because of her beauty and elegance Madeline was perceived to be amenable to manipulation by terrorists because she was a woman, but they soon discovered that under the facade of her persona was a measured, calculating and resolute woman who took no prisoners. Indeed her measures for torturing hostiles verged on cruelty and with utilizing the Torture Twins to motivate targets to speak was a testament to how far she would go to gain what she wanted.

Madeline’s gait was that of a confident leader as she made her way to interrogate her target in the White Room and expel any information that would lead Section One to capturing their main antagonist.  The Embassy mission had been successful and Claire Beauchamp had performed well in administering the tranquilizer that had brought on Alain de Marillac’s heart attack. The subterfuge that followed had also gone to plan and she looked forward to reading James Fraser’s debrief, but first she had a pressing appointment.

At long last the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. Tony Wong had implicated Alain de Marillac and now he would reveal what they needed to know about furthering their quest to find Sun Yee Lok.  De Marillac had been a wild card … someone they had not suspected especially given his position of authority in the community and government.  To find out that he was a member of the Rising Dragons was certainly unexpected, but Madeline knew she should never underestimate the human person’s propensity for evil.  Terrorists came from all walks of life but they had many things in common … all were ruthless, determined and unflinching in obtaining their goals.  

Ambassador Alain de Marillac was in a position of power but he’d obviously wanted more.  Total power was corrupting and given his position of authority this is what had happened to him. Power had corrupted his moral decency … and being involved in his own daughter’s death showed just how low he would sink to obtain his ends.  It … was contemptible.  He … was contemptible.  

Madeline had thoroughly scrutinized Geillis Duncan’s and Rupert Mackenzie’s debrief about the telephone calls that de Marillac had received at the embassy.  They had provided important Intel on a mystery man that had contacted him and now Madeline would find out his connection and where this piece fitted into the bigger picture.  She couldn’t wait to meet with Ambassador Alain de Marillac. He was about to pay for the consequences of his actions and would be surprised at what awaited him, for there was no going back to the life he had before coming to Section One … in fact there was no life for him at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The brilliant glare of a ceiling light focused on the lone piece of furniture illuminating the man strapped in the chair.  Alain de Marillac sat shackled in the middle of a white room in a cold, metal chair. His hands and feet were manacled and there was no way that he could see to break from the restraints. He’d tried several times to loosen the binds that tied him to the chair but to no avail. There was no escaping and things looked hopeless for him unless he was able to outsmart the inquisitor he knew would eventually come.  

Like many others before him, he wondered where he was. This place was like no other he had ever experienced.  He had seen where Tony Wong had interrogated his victims, and he had seen pictures of torture chambers in books … but this room was surreal, eerie and ominously foreboding.   Casting his eyes around there was nothing to identify where he might be.  There was nothing too that he could associate with, but his imagination was overactive thinking that this room held many secrets … secrets of people in similar situations that he now found himself in.

He was aware that all was not as it should be.

So he waited.  Alain de Marillac … Canadian Ambassador to China … triad member … murderer … and terrorist … waited for whom may come through the door and for what they may want.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sound of creaking hinges echoed in the sterile room as Madeline opened the fortified door and entered the White Room walking smartly until she stood in front of Alain de Marillac. She smiled but the smile didn’t reach her eyes on the contrary it was a foreboding smile that was tinged with a hint of a smirk.

“Hello Monsieur de Marillac … or should I say Ambassador de Marillac?”

He was taken aback by the sound of a woman’s voice and glancing up saw an elegantly dressed lady whose appearance he would soon find was deceptive. His tone was brash and laced with bravado as he replied.

“Whoever the hell you think you are you don't know who you're dealing with.”

Madeline smiled her Mona Lisa smile once more and circled de Marillac sitting in the steel chair.  As she slowly circled she observed the reaction of her guest noting the rapid breathing, the telltale throb in his neck vein and the darting of his eyes as he tried to avoid eye contact. He sat up more erect in order to give the impression of control which in fact he had none here in the White Room.

“My people will carve you up and feed you to the dogs.  I’m the Ambassador you know.  I have rights.”

Still circling the chair Madeline replied. “Yes … Let's talk about your people. They have recently been involved in multiple murders in Hong Kong with a man named Tony Wong.”

“How preposterous! I’m the Canadian Ambassador to China ... not a murderer.”

“We already know about your connection to the Rising Dragons triad. We want to know the whereabouts of your leader.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Sun Yee Lok? The man who is your Boss and Shan Chu?  The man who orders the murders of innocents in Hong Kong?”

“Never heard of the guy.”

Madeline gazed at de Marillac with her steely cold eyes, “Do you think there's anything I won't do to get this information from you?”

“You can’t touch me.  I have diplomatic immunity you know,” he stated matter-of-factually.

“And … I’m trying to be diplomatic,” Madeline replied with an undermining menace.

As she was speaking the White Room door opened again and a man and a woman entered, each bearing a sinister yellow case. The Torture Twins had entered carrying their briefcases of instruments and potions that would leave the hostile with no other choice than to impart the Intel they were after. The two people stood waiting for their instructions to begin their modus operandi.

Addressing Henry and Elizabeth, Madeline stated, “Shouldn't take long. Let me know when you're through.”

“I intend to make a formal complaint for wrongful detainment. You’ll be hearing from my lawyers. I’m the Ambassador after all.”

Ignoring de Marillac’s retort, Madeline turned to leave while Henry and Elizabeth placed their briefcases on the bench and approached the target in the chair. Nervous laughter emitted from Alain de Marillac but faded as Madeline closed the White Room door with a decisive click, leaving her torture specialists to their tasks.

His scream of agony echoed in the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sometime later Henry and Elizabeth exited the White Room to find Madeline waiting for them near the viewing window into the White Room. As they passed by her with their tools of trade, they stopped and Madeline asked, “How were the new units?”

“I think you'll be pleased with the results,” Henry replied with a wry look on his face.

“Thank you.”

They both nodded and Madeline acknowledged their tacit answer then she entered the White Room again.  

Hearing footsteps approach Alain de Marillac sat more erect in the chair a beaten but proud man who refused to show how defeated he really was. Prominent twin slashes inflamed his cheeks as his face bore witness to the distinctive techniques used by the two people who had just left.

Admiring the torture twins’ handiwork, Madeline asked, “Are we ready to talk now, Monsieur de Marillac?”

Nodding his head Alain asked bravely, “What is this place? Who are you people?”

“Who is the mystery person who called you at the embassy?  What is his role with you and the Rising Dragons?”

“I can't tell you what I don't know. You can torture me all day and that won't change.”

“It's a deal.”

“Who died and made you God?” He asked indignantly.

“Perhaps this might convince you Monsieur de Marillac.”

Madeline said nothing more, but just turned and picked up a stack of newspaper clippings which she showed to him.  What de Marillac saw made his heart sink.  He was staring at his own death obituaries.

Madeline looked at him, satisfied to see real fear in his eyes. “As far as the world is concerned … you’re dead. Now … tell me what I need to know.”

Later that same day...

Operations quickly walked into the Briefing room where Jamie, Claire, Fergus and other operatives sat waiting quietly with stony faces. Madeline too, sat to one side of the briefing table knowing what Intel Operations would disclose. Without any preamble he began the meeting by activating the holographic imager while the operatives listened to all that he had to impart. Those gathered watched as information and a picture emerged on the holograph screen. Pacing back and forth each time he spoke, Dougal Mackenzie relayed the Intel Madeline had coerced from Alain de Marillac about members of the Rising Dragons and in particular that of the oriental woman whose face glared back at those assembled. “This is Madame Cheung, the only woman member of the Rising Dragons hierarchy who was personally chosen by Sun Yee Lok.” Looking at the picture of the woman, Jamie asked, “What is her role within the triad?” “Her main role is to procure women to work in prostitution and her exclusive high-class escort service. Alain de Marillac’s daughter was in her employ. Madame Cheung was planning on expanding her business but with Annalise de Marillac’s death this had set her plans back somewhat. She is now on the lookout for brunette Western women of Annalise’s age and build.” Feeling more than one pair of eyes on her, Claire inquired, “She is our next target then?” Operations’ nod towards her confirmed what Claire was thinking ... she just knew that she would be involved to snare the woman on this mission in some way. Dougal Mackenzie turned to his second in command to continue. “Madeline?” “Alain de Marillac was kind enough to reveal to us the location of his mole, and gave us a description of the mystery man who approached women on their own for this Madame Cheung of the Rising Dragons.” “I have also done a voice analysis of the mystery man who we suspect was Alain de Marillac’s contact from the audio tapes of conversation between them at the embassy.” Birkoff added confidently. “The plan's simple.” Operations stated. “Claire will meet with this man. We’ll then track and follow him to his meeting to discuss Claire. That's where we’ll find Madame Cheung.” “When and where is this meeting to take place between Claire and the informer?” Jamie requested knowing that whatever plans Operation and Madeline had that they would not bode well for his Sassenach. Operations gave no more details to answer Jamie’s question but only stated, “Details are on your panel. You’re on standby so stay close to Section until you leave. That will be all.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ As the field operatives left the room Madeline spoke quietly to Claire before she had time to leave the briefing table. “Could we see you before you leave?” Nodding at her, Claire Beauchamp acknowledged her request wondering what Madeline had to further add to this mission but knowing that the voice of doom was highly likely. She’d read between the lines during the briefing knowing that Madeline obviously had plans for her and this Madame Cheung particularly given her preference for western, brunette women similar to Annalise de Marillac. Covertly noting the exchange between the two women, Jamie realised that his initial inclinations about his superiors’ motives were not too far from the truth.  Madeline certainly had more in mind for Claire than what would be outlined on her PDA. He knew exactly just what she would propose to her for this mission given the Intel presented and Claire’s similar appearance to the deceased Annalise de Marillac. He would discuss it with her in privacy later at her apartment away from the prying eyes of Section One.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In Operations’ Perch, the two Section Leaders were grappling with the wisdom of their decision concerning Claire Beauchamp, hoping that she would be able to carry it off and also about Jamie Fraser’s reaction once he found out about it. 

“It’s time to put Claire to the test,” Madeline stated but her words had a double meaning which Operations failed to recognise.  

In her Machiavellian mind, she was not only testing Claire about her loyalty to Section One and what was to be asked of her, but also to see what she suspected might be true ... that Claire Beauchamp had a relationship with her partner James Fraser that was more than platonic. 

Operations, however, was not convinced and said so. “Do you think it's premature?” “No. This mission will surely grab Madame Cheung’s attention. Now it’s just a question of how far she’s willing to go.” “We knew the probabilities going in … just under sixty percent. Is that good enough Madeline?”

“If Madame Cheung is drawn to Claire as I suspect she will be given her resemblance to Annalise de Marillac … then I believe we can be confident in the outcome.” 

“And James?”

“James Fraser is Section. He will do whatever is necessary.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ “Come in Claire,” Dougal stated as Claire Beauchamp arrived at the Perch a little while later. She walked in and stood to attention with her arms folded in front of her. With a blank stare perfected like Jamie’s, and looking at Operations and Madeline, Claire waited for the axe to fall on her.

Without mincing words, Operations told her why she was there. “Claire, we feel that a connection to Madame Cheung can be extremely useful to us.”

“Of course.”

“However ... although the profile's already been set there are some changes.” Continuing Madeline outlined their plan. “We want you to undertake a deep cover on this assignment. It will be vital for the success of the mission. You will immerse yourself in Madame Cheung’s world and learn what you can about her dealings with the Rising Dragons and in particular Sun Yee Lok.” “Are you saying you’d like me to accept any proposal from her? “Yes.” “For how long?” “Indefinitely.” Claire’s heart dropped and her stomach was in knots. “And Jamie? ... Does he know about this?” “Not yet ... You can tell him in due course. Tell him you need to learn more about Madame Cheung and being in close proximity for some time is the best way. He’ll know this is true.” “Is that all?” Claire replied perfecting Jamie’s blank stare and not showing any emotion although her insides were churning up. “Yes.” Claire Beauchamp looked at her Section leaders while Madeline watched her closely too realising that she was internalising the fact that she was now on a deep cover mission. James Fraser had taught her well for Claire gave very little away in her stance and replies to their orders, but the fact they had asked her to go undercover with this woman was more than she could comprehend at the moment.  She needed some time to digest what the mission would entail and how she would find the strength and fortitude to endure such a deep cover assignment without Jamie.

With a blank expression on her face Claire turned and left the loft. As she walked out, Madeline looked at Operations again. The Section leaders traded a glance.

They both looked pleased.

In Munitions ...

Murtagh Fitzgibbons was fiddling with a modified cam’s expansion card seemingly lost in the task at hand; however, he looked up smiling when he heard the honeyed sounds of Claire Beauchamp’s voice as she approached his section. 

“Hey Murtagh,” she greeted him trying to appear upbeat for her friend upon coming into his area. “Hey Sugar.” She watched as he continued to fiddle with the apparatus he was working on. “I haven't seen you for over a week. Whatcha got there?” “Nothing much … just a cam I’m modifying,” he replied looking at her, “Heading out?” “Yep ... Have you seen Jamie?” “He just left.” “Oooh!” This was nothing new for James Fraser as he often left Section before anyone else. However, Murtagh failed to notice Claire’s disappointment in his reply about Jamie and continued to question her as he worked.

“So how are things? How’s the mission going?”

“So far … so good but we still don’t have Sun Yee Lok.”

“Proving to be a bit elusive is he?” “Yeah … you could say that.” “I see you have to go back to Hong Kong.” “Yeah.” This time Murtagh looked up at Claire finally noticing her reticent sigh. “Hey, why the long face then? You okay?” “I'm fine.” He put down what he was working on and gave her his undivided attention. “You don't seem so fine.” “Murtagh, it's just this place. It just gets to me sometimes, that's all.” “Is it the mission?” “Sort of … It’s another new mission within a mission.” “Well Jamie will be there to keep an eye on you.” “Maybe …” “What do you mean maybe?” “They’ve put me on a deep cover mission.” “What? ... Where?” “At Madame Cheung’s.” “Does Jamie know?” “Not yet.” “Don’t worry Claire; Jamie won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me.” “I know ...” “You know how things are, Sugar. Things don’t just “work out” around here, they happen for a business.” “Yeah ... but, I’m not sure I can go through with it though.”         “It’s only a numbers game Claire. They pull the lever, whatever comes out three cherries, that’s the jackpot.” “Murtagh ... it’s just that …” “What?”

Claire let her thoughts materialize ... “I was in bad shape this time last year. I don't want to feel that way again and ... I fit the profile again for this mission. I’m getting a bit sick of it. Tall, leggy brunettes! I wish I was shorter and blonde occasionally.”

“Oh, I see,” Murtagh replied biting his lip in mirth. He looked at Claire and his eyes crinkled with mischievousness, “Hey … come to think of it … Madeline fits THAT bill! She could take your place.” He winked at her with the cheeky, craggy grin that Claire loved, breaking her from her melancholy. “Don’t worry ... You’ll knock ‘em dead Sugar!" Laughing, she answered, “Thanks Murtagh … you always put things into perspective.” “Keep your powder dry. Sure as hell going to miss you Sugar.” “I’ll be back,” Claire replied and began to walk away but paused when Murtagh added in all seriousness. “Talk to Jamie. He’ll figure out something.” “Okay.” “Goodnight Murtagh.” “Goodnight Sugar,” he replied as he watch Claire Beauchamp walk away from his station with much on her mind and hoped in some ways that his words had given her some comfort.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued

 Should you wish to access the other chapters of this story … go to

https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

~Boundless Love~ Chapter 1

Tutoring sessions with the school’s bad boy is never dull, for either of you. Who knew that opposites do attract? Needless to say, you two actually end up learning more about each other in more ways than one.

badboy!taehyung/disabled!reader | College!au

Word Count: 3,408

Your finger punches in the numbers, graphing calculator displaying the digital equation. One press on the ENTER key reveals the answer as 25. Same result you got on your paper. Problem now completed, you grab your coffee and take a sip from the green straw. Warm brew coats your tongue as you drink, bittersweet liquid traveling down your throat. Lips releasing the partially chewed plastic, you set the cup down.

Students bustle around the campus coffee shop, snatching bags of snacks and ordering drinks before quickly paying, retrieving plastic cups as they rush to class or go to whatever extracurricular activities they may have.  The few tables in the room are occupied by people working on homework or taking a break, electronics and papers scattered on the square tops.

Normally you would be studying in your dorm right about now, but since you decided to do tutoring sessions, your little working spot was now at the heart of campus. Looking at the clock, you watch the hands lazily drag across the face.

7:04.

Double checking your papers, you make sure you have the correct worksheets, drumming your nails as you look at the worksheets. This was your first meeting with this particular student and so you decided to bring a little bit of everything, from formula sheets to an array of practice problems, just in case.

A girl two tables down was typing on her laptop, word document displaying an essay, her eyes shifting from the screen to her papers next to the iced tea. One guy was using his backpack as a pillow while he slept on top of the table, the couple at the next table were talking while they shared their drink. Another boy has his nose in a textbook, the binding threatening to collapse as he waited in line behind a group of girls.

When the barista brings the iced coffees out, the trio eagerly swipe their drinks from the counter, walking past you and you hear something about an upcoming sorority event. Returning to observing the tranquil space, one of the girls stops her conversation to greet someone just out in the hall.

“Hey, Tae,” she sings and a chorus of greetings follow from her friends.

“Ladies,” a deep voice answers.

“About time,” you mumble, looking at your phone screen to see the time is now 7:12. Three more minutes and you could have left. Sighing softly, your eyes raise to find a boy sauntering into the small café.

Signature bandana wrapped under his mess of hair, you watch Kim Taehyung stand at the entrance before slowly making his way around the tables. It’s not difficult, despite the tight space since he didn’t have a backpack, or any supplies for that matter. You knew what you were getting into when your boss assigned you a list of students to tutor, one of which was the school’s bad boy and notorious troublemaker.

If you were being honest, you couldn’t really blame the girls for getting all starry-eyed, he was attractive. Yet his constant skipping of class and sometimes complete disregard of school rules was annoying at times. When he wasn’t making special appearances in class he was usually off vandalizing a building or stealing the campus golf carts for a quick joyride. He would have been expelled long ago, if only the college had proof that he and his mischievous friends were the culprits.

Taehyung looks around the room and you shift your gaze once more to your pile of things, fiddling with your pencil. From your peripherals you see him look at each table’s occupant, walking past the sleeping guy and couple. His scuffed converse shoes tap on the linoleum. He briefly slows his pace as he looks at the girl on her computer, who doesn’t pay him any attention. Continuing his aloof stride, you wait for him to come towards the back of room where you are located.

Red sneakers soon stop at your table you slowly lift your head at his approach. “Are you the college algebra tutor?” he asks, white teeth on full display.

“I am,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow before giving a polite smile of your own.

He pulls a chair out from beside you, sitting at your left as he props his head on an elbow. “Cool. I’m Taehyung.” He extends his to you and you blink.

At least he has manners which is always a plus. It takes a second for your brain to send out a command and you lift your arm in return. His hand grasps yours softly, palm heating your skin from the physical contact.

You introduce yourself as well before leaning back in your seat. Picking up the stack of papers, you straighten them and the rectangular sheets align themselves before being set down.

“Nice to meet you, Taehyung. I know this is our first meeting, but next time please try to be on time in the future. If students don’t show within 15 minutes without prior notice, the session will be cancelled.” While you inform him, you grab a pencil and hand it to him.

“Right, sorry. I’ll let you know next time.”

“Do you have a specific section you want to work on today?” you ask, pulling out some more scratch paper from your folder. Scribbling out a heading that reads Practice #1 along with the date, you look up when he doesn’t respond.

“What, we’re not going to go over the syllabus first? It is our first day after all,” he smirks and you have to keep your eyes fixated on him instead of inside your head where they wish to go.

“Sorry, but I didn’t print out a copy. I’ll be sure to have it with me for those who don’t have a basic comprehension of rules, but here’s a brief summary for you. Be on time, ask relevant questions that focus on the material, come prepared,” you stare at him and his lack of things,” and do your work.”

“So show up, ask questions, bring snacks, and pay attention, got it,” is his response.

“Sure,” this time you don’t bother stopping your eye roll, pushing your papers aside so you can open the red textbook to the table of contents. “Which chapter are you having a hard time with?” Angling the book towards him, you let Taehyung glance over it.

Flipping between the two pages, he skims through each description and points to one while his other hand is spinning the pencil with his fingers. Chapter 3: Polynomials. You sift through your papers and find a worksheet with some practice problems, setting it in front of him. “Okay, show me what you can do.”

The dancing pencil freezes. “Damn, you really don’t waste any time starting the torture. Aren’t you gonna teach me first?” Though he’s surprised there’s a faint smirk on his lips.

“I want to see how much you know and then I’ll help.” Your thumb taps on the table as you stare at him. Jutting your head, you motion to the crisp sheet and he sighs but begins writing under the first problem.

He finishes quickly and you check his work. “Not bad. You almost have the right answer except you forgot about this x here,” you tell him, grabbing a red pen and turning the page so you can write on it. “Just move this here, solve for it, and you should get x=3 and x=-3.” Turning on your calculator, you type the equation so you check for the answer. The number 3 is displayed and you return the paper to him. “Now do try with the next one.”

Taehyung scribbles under problem #2, lead squeaking on the sheet and he turns the paper when he’s finished so you can look it over.

Nodding, your nails clack on the calculator as you plug in the numbers and it displays the same answer as his. “Good job. Let’s make things more interesting, try #10.”

“Interesting? Yeah, right.” His short laugh fades when he glances down and spots the complex problem filled with lots of numbers and exponents that go to the sixth power. You purse your lips to hide your satisfaction at his silence. “Okay, I’m starting to see why you’re a tutor now. You like to see us students suffer,” he says and you shrug.

Pinching the sheet of notebook paper, you hand it to him. “Here, you might need this.”

“Thanks,” is his dry remark, sliding the white page closer so he can copy the problem down on the first line. It takes him longer to solve and you watch him bite his lip as he works, brows furrowed in concentration. The yellow pencil scratches, lead painting the white a dark grey while you continue your observation.

Despite him needing help with the material, he didn’t appear to be flustered nor did he pause for more than a few seconds which was fascinating considering the fact that most of your other peers would get stuck after some point. While others would be unsure, Taehyung’s confidence never actually faltered.

You push your calculator towards him when he’s done so he can check his work. Using the pencil’s eraser, he types the buttons and hits ENTER, which the screen then displays a different number than the answer on his paper.

“You’re so close. I think you either misplaced a number or you didn’t factor properly. See if you can find it,” you suggest to him.

Taehyung scans over his work and his eyes light up when he finds the mistake. Erasing the bottom half, he fixes it and gets the same answer that is on the calculator.

“Good job! Do the last two and then we’ll be done for today.”

The last two turn out to be especially tedious and when he gets stuck on the first one, you help him as you explain the problem step by step. Despite the minor hiccup, he remains unfazed, simply watching as you write down the correct method, leaving a few notes on the side in blue ink for him to remember.

“There’s actually lots of ways you can do this, but I find this way to be easier. If you have another option that works for you and you still get the right answer you can do that instead.”

He nods and push the paper towards him so he can work on the last one. Again, you help every now and then, pointing to where he went wrong. “One tip to keep in mind is you can tell how many answers you need to find by looking at the exponents. If the highest power is four, you know that there will be four roots to find.”

Taehyung looks up at you when you say this, eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Huh, that’s good to know,” he replies, returning to the problem so he can continue working. Once he’s done he shows the paper to you and you skim through it.

Sliding your hand across the table, you point to his answers. “Close, but you’re not done yet. The x is still squared so you need to find the square root. Other than that it looks good.”

He divides the 4 and 25, x equaling 2 and 5. “And then they have to be plus and minus, right?”

“That’s right.”

Taehyung boxes in the answers and you nod.

“Great, you’re really getting the hang of it,” you tell him. Checking your phone, you see that it is just after 8:00. “If you want to meet again we can. It can be with me or another student it’s up to you, just call the tutoring center to schedule another appointment.”

Collecting the sheets of paper, you slip them in a pink folder so you know which one is his.

“Yeah, I think I’ll stick with you. I don’t know want to know what the other students are like with their teaching methods,” he chuckles returning your pencil and you take it before putting it with your other writing utensils.

“They’re probably more lenient than me I’m sure. If that’s the case, then you can just text me directly.” Pulling up your contacts, you push your phone to him and he does the same with his, setting it in front of you and you put in your information.

He gives your phone back and grabs his in return, opening his messages as he starts texting somebody. “Well, if you don’t mind my torture methods I guess I’ll just give you some homework for you to practice.”

The boy’s thumbs pause, hovering over the keys when he realizes what you said. “Wait, hold on a second. I thought you were a tutor, not a teacher.” He complains, eyes wide as he stares at you with his mouth partially open.

Ignoring his objection, you flip through the pages and find some problems for chapter 3, grabbing another blank sheet of paper so you can write down a few exercises along with the page number. “I mean; you were concerned about the syllabus so it’s only fair if I stick to protocol.” You give him a pointed look and put the assignment away. “By the way, this is yours to keep,” you add, handing him the striped pink and white folder.

“Gee, thank you. So I guess I’ll be seeing you in two months.” Since he had no bag, Taehyung had no choice but to carry the neon file with him, which was noticeable against his dark clothes.

“That’s fine. Whatever works best with your schedule, just let me know and I’ll check what days I have available.”

Your unfazed reaction at his bluff has his lips poking out in distaste and he grunts. “Fine, I’ll see you in a week.”

Shaking your head in agreement, your fingers grasp the front cover of your textbook as you prepare to close it but he stops you by pulling it towards him. You watch with raised brows, hearing a click.

“Do you not have the textbook?” you ask, eyes narrowing and he looks up to meet your glare with a smile.

“Not yet,” is his response. He shuts the book and it thumps from the force before he pushes it back to you.

Putting your hand on top of the book, you drag it closer and put your other folder that has all your scratch paper next to it. “You need the textbook for the homework and that’s not coming from me.” All the college algebra professors assigned work from the book, some even going further by adding pop quizzes to see who read the chapter.

“I’m not going to support a school that forces people to buy its exclusive textbook that costs that much money,” Taehyung scoffs, not that you blamed him in the slightest.

“Then you might want to find a friend because you won’t find it online,” you suggest and grab your calculator, sliding it up so you can put the cover on.

“Eh, I’ll see what I can do.” He says, his chair scraping on the floor as he stands. “Do you want some help putting your things away?”

You look down and see all your things across the tabletop. “Actually yeah, that’d be great. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he responds, stacking your folders and spiral notebook on top of the textbook before picking them up to put them in your backpack. While he does that, you click your pens shut, tossing them in your pencil bag and zipping it closed, sliding it onto your wrist.

You hear your backpack zip as well so you grab your empty coffee cup and phone. Taehyung walks ahead of you with his new pink folder clutched in his hand. Following after him, you stop to throw your cup away before leaving the café and find him waiting in the library foyer holding the door open for you.

“Thank you,” you say and he hums in response.

As you prepare to leave, you hear him call your name and you turn around to face him.

“Thanks again for the help. I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

“Of course, I don’t mind at all. Yeah, just text me when you want to meet and if you get stuck on any of the problems, call or text me and I can help. It also helps if you go to class.”

Taehyung blinks, “how do you know when I’m in class or not?”

Shrugging, you look away before bringing your gaze back to his questioning stare. “We’re allowed to sit in classes that we tutor so we can stay up to date on the material. I go to your class every now and then, but whenever the professor takes attendance you’re never there.”

He heaves a loud sigh, slowly walking backwards. “Fine, I’ll go to class.” His eyes flicker downwards for a split second. “By the way, I like your shirt. Really suits you,” he adds, lips turning upwards and you have to glance down to remember what you were wearing.

You snort upon reading the printed text.

“So she does smile.”

Raising your head, you roll your eyes, smirk still on your face. “On occasion.”

He cocks his head to the side, “for now,” is all he says before turning around and walking away.

You watch his retreating figure before heading back to your dorm. The distance to your building isn’t far, taking a little less than 10 minutes to get there. When you arrive, you slip under the alcove and grab the lanyard around your neck. Finding the key at the bottom, you pick it up and insert it into the lock, twisting it to the side. Your door opens and you pull out the key before going inside, metal frame shutting behind you a few seconds later.

“Honey, I’m home,” you announce your presence to the room.

“About time,” a voice says and you see your roommate lying on the couch, eating a bag of chips while watching T.V. “How’d it go?” She sits up and holds the bag out to you to which you stick your hand inside.

“Pretty well actually.” You admit, biting into a salty chip. “Taehyung’s a bit cocky, but he’s nice and didn’t give me any problems.”

“That’s good.” She says and you nod, going to the dining table so you can put your pencil bag down, slipping the wristband off. “Are you hungry, Y/N?”

“Starving.”

“Want some of that leftover pizza?” she asks and you hear her grunt as she stands.

“Yes, please,” you sing, turning around to watch her walk to the kitchen.

Your roommate opens the fridge to grab two slices for you and you make your way to the living room bookshelf, reaching for your history book that is resting on one of the lower shelves. As you get close, you bring it towards you and then you try to turn around, only to feel a thump from behind when you hit the wall which causes you to wince.

“Are you banging on the wall again?” Your friend asks, opening the microwave and setting the timer before pressing start.

“No!” you yell in denial.

“Liar,” she hollers back.

Muttering to yourself, you maneuver your way out from the space and retreat to the table, placing your book on top. The microwave beeps a minute later and your roommate sets the plate in front you.

“Thanks, Kara.”

“Uh huh,” she grabs a napkin from the middle of the table and puts it next to you. Looking up at her, you see her smirking at you.

“What?”

“Nothing. I still can’t believe you wore that shirt,” she says through pursed lips in an attempt to hide her smile as she walks away.

“Hey, my SMArtass shirt is great! Apparently Taehyung says it suits me.”

Coming back beside you, she puts your cup of water down next to your plate, white straw sticking out of it. “In more ways than one, that’s for sure.”

Your response is to whack her arm and she sticks her tongue out, lightly kicking the wheels behind you.

“Don’t hit me!”

She scoffs, “I didn’t even hit you, I bumped your chair. That’s payback for the poor wall you put a dent in,” Kara responds before sitting back down on the couch.

“You’re just jealous that I’m stronger than you.”

Your friend barks a laugh, “oh whatever. Shut up and eat your food.”

A/N: It’s finally here! With only a couple of hours to spare, this has been posted on the very last day of August. Honestly, this is another work I’ve been waiting to start on for a year because it wasn’t ready and I still needed to plan some things. So the reason I was waiting for August is because this month is National SMA Awareness month! I’m going to go in further detail about what that is in later chapters, but the short and to the point summary is that a good majority of people with this disease are wheelchair bound. (Like me!) This idea started out when I noticed there wasn’t a lot of disabled stories in K-Pop. The few I did come across were about different disabilities such as, being blind, deaf, or unable to speak, so I decided I would write my own story about someone who relies on using a wheelchair. Surprise! Okay, so this is super duper long, but please leave your feedback and let me know what you think. Thank you again for reading!

TIPS FOR REVISION OF IIT JEE MAINS AND ADVANCED

Every students goes to School and almost every student attends a coaching institute. They visit the same classes and make notes. They solve many problems in Physics, Chemistry, and Mathematics. Then they appear in a lot of Tests for JEE Mains and Advanced. But not all of them get desirable marks and ranks. And as a result of this rank, your parents think that you are not preparing well or working hard. They will not stop there. They will judge each of your habits as a bad habit. Whether it is your guitar playing, weekly cricket match or your friends. Which in my opinion is not true.

This phenomenon occurs very often among JEE Main aspirants. Students with the same potential get different rank in the same test. Worse a student with high intelligence quotient can get inferior rank in any test. So the question arises why this happens? If you have attended the same coaching class and attempted the same questions, but when it comes to the result there is a massive difference between the rank of yours and the topper. Why? The answer is REVISION. You must be thinking why such a trivial thing is essential for the results. Because in IIT JEE in takes two years to complete the syllabus. In IIT JEE syllabus you study almost 64 chapters. Each chapter has a dozen concepts. In every chapter you solve over 200 problems. So you can see you do a lot of hard work in JEE preparation because the syllabus is enormous. In such pressure, your mind will forget a lot of these concepts. As we move on to a new chapter, our find will partially forget the previous chapter. Thus you will learn new chapters and unlearn the previous chapter together. NTA expect us to remember each chapter as if we have learned it today. Your brainpower should be as sharp as a steel sword. You may have such brain power if you revise the concepts, , and examples very smartly. Revision is by far the most important thing for a competitive exam aspirant.

Take small steps every day

The most important way of revision is whenever you learn a new topic or concept revise it immediately. Suppose your teacher taught you acidic strength order in chemical Bonding today. Then its recommended that you revise it as soon as you reach home. Even it will be better if you revise it on your way home. It will save you a lot of time. Per day you should revise for half an hour per subject. The focus of this daily revision should be topic or concept you learned today in the class.

Revise main points and questions not only theory

Do you remember when you revised last time? What exactly did you revise? Only theory or questions also? It is a widespread mistake that students focus only on theory while revising. It is wrong because IIT JEE Main and Advanced Exam is application based exam, not a theoretical one. You will make at least 25 notebooks in your JEE Preparation. And if you will keep revising only theory from these class notes, then they are useless. Thus your revision is nothing if you do not revise a solved example with every concept. Your application part will be substantial if you revise a difficult solved question with every concept.

Revise of A particular Topic for JEE Mains

If you have a class test of a particular chapter tomorrow or day after that, then instead of revising only theory you should practice the question also. Let me give you an example if you have a test of Simple Harmonic Motion. Revise the basic concepts and a few critical questions related to every concept. Then select a few easy questions from your question bank and solve them in a time frame. If you answer them pat yourself in the back and then pick some not-so-easy question and solve them. Repeat the same process at least four times. Increase the level of question from easy to difficult. But this process is not as smooth as it seems. You will get stuck in some questions. In such case refer to the related concept in your class notes or book. Then try to relate your unsolved question from the solved example and try it again. This analysis will increase your marks and rank unexpectedly.

Make a cheat sheet for formulas for IIT JEE

A cheat sheet is a collection of all formulas, tips, tricks, and shortcuts related to a chapter. I will suggest you make one. I will recommend adding an essential question in the cheat sheet in the concise form To create such a list, you have to wait until the end of the chapter. After finishing the section gather all the material, you referred. The write all necessary information in a very very concise manner. Make it very concise you can even use sign language which can understand. This cheat sheet will save you precious time during JEE Main exam. Read The Brief Analysis Of JEE Main 2019 January

Revise At least two Subjects Per Day

Psychologists say studying more than one subject is better than only one subject per day. Suppose you are revising Physics and Maths on Monday for JEE Advanced. Then on Tuesday review Maths and Chemistry. Why? Because if you keep revising the same subject, chapter and concept for a whole day your mind will get bored. You can get confused with different concepts. Thus when you make your timetable, next time include at least two subjects per day. Download Mock Test PAper for JEE Mains Here.

Read key information out loud

It is also a scientific fact when you are revising something read out important concepts loud. What’s the reason for this? It is convenient. If you only mumble the words you only see them. But if you read out loud, you see them as well as listen to it. It will embed the concept in your mind .or a long time. Though this method has its limit, you can not read every word on the notebook out loud and also in numerical part reading is not enough. I will recommend this method for Chemistry ( Organic and Inorganic) and Maths & Physics formulas. Learn 7 Habits for Success in JEE Mains

Simplify, summarize, and compress the information

Not a lot of students can do it. But if you can, you will be able to get an extra edge over other students. Simplify and summarise your revision as much as possible. A concise summary is easy to remember. One of the ways to do this is to make your mnemonics. For example Lina Kare Rab Se Fariyad. Elements: Li, Na, K, Rb, Cs, Fr Beta Mange Cars Saari Baap Roye. Elements: Be, Mg, Ca, Sr, Ba, Ra Nepal Pakistan Australia Sab Bikhari. (No offence!!) Elements: N, P, As, Sb, Bi Memorize Pi till 10 decimal places: 3.1415926535 May(3) I(3) have(3) a(3) large(3) container(3) of(3) coffee(3) ready(3) for(3) today(3) ?

Switch up your location

You must have a particular place in your house or hostel to study. You must get bored and stagnant by studying in the same area for long hours. It happens with almost every JEE aspirant. In such a situation you should change your location. You can go to your parent’s room or sit in the balcony, or whatever may suit you. It may sometimes work when you are revising for long hours. A change in your location can reset your mind. After that, you can study for a few more hours.

And these are all the techniques very efficient for an effctive revision. Above tricks for revision of JEE Mains and advanced are tried and tested by me and my students. It is very important to keep revising your syllabus if your preparing for exams like IIT JEE. You can not hope that you will revise the entire syllabus in last few weeks. This is impossible.

Click here for JEE advanced mock test

Read How to Study For JEE Mains When you are Sick If you can apply them in your revision you will get surprising result. Your rank will incearse in your class sufficiently. In any other case you can contact me or comment below. Best Of luck.

Wrestling: No Longer a Mystery

There's a feeling that in the event the truth does eventually emerge, it may upend everything we know. Becoming learning-focused means putting the procedure ahead of the item. Sometimes, you've got to do things that aren't that fun to achieve your objectives. Well, you have to drill repeatedly if you would like moves to develop into second nature. You've got a particular possibility to play such a video game all by yourself and also have a considerable quantity of fun in this approach. It's about disciplinebeing disciplined enough to plow through the procedure and make it take place. What You Need to Do About Wrestling Before You Miss Your Chance You don't need to be worried about it because this completely damage is not going to bring it any result. Your dog is not going to understand that they're managing a little child who doesn't wish to hurt him. Simple, there's no magic pill to earn the concussion go away. Periodization is frequently associated with weight training but can be utilized to train other athletic attributes also. Such exercises are for when you're attempting to shed weight so as to be in a specific competitive wrestling category. If you must cut weight that you should begin a couple weeks or a month in advance if necessary. Choosing Wrestling There are lots of shady dealers out there. Their chemistry for a team is legendary. The matches are predetermined but of course that's the whole intention of the company. It doesn't matter the apathy both of these candidates are satisfied with. It was also a very simple way to be certain that he'd dominate over his former Shield brothers, aligning with the men and women in charge, to receive the best matches and the opponents with the highest-profiles. The individual was turned over to the right authorities. The Unusual Secret of Wrestling The full point of this exercise is to have a rise from the crowd and it is irrelevant whether it's cheers or boos. His solution was supposed to create his own form of the barbaric duo in Demolition. The reason this is sensible to know about is mainly because you might find that yourself bored playing the identical game and having options would be wise so that you're able to alter the kind of game you're playing. The thought is simple, you beat the defenders till they are not able to get up and attack you. I simply don't like that he constantly receives a shot. Major man smooth like a large baby penguin. In addition, I hope not one of the regulars end it. Sasha pulls Becky from the ring. Valkyrie Spears Grace on the ground. Wrestling - the Conspiracy Writing a book isn't easy, but neither is wrestling. We'll also be running a complete live blog of the function which is going to be available here. We did not receive the story we were promised. All these wrestling stars have various trademarks most especially the way that they dress and how they smack their opponents. Owens is only short of a million at the right time of writing. Whether you like him or not you need to admit he is extremely gifted and definitely looks the component of a top superstar. Wrestling is among the only sports that everyone on the planet can understand. Every one of these sports are going to have its exclusive demands. In earlier times athletes weren't too concerned about a concussion. A Startling Fact about Wrestling Uncovered Whatever might be the experience, jot down all of the information down. Ideally, in case you have chosen the proper exercises, participants ought to be able to experience a complete cycle 3 times. Another thing to think about is that bad parents don't always raise bad children. Inside this section you must jot down all of the critical abilities, specifically linked to leadership activities, communication skills, teaching, together with initiative skills etc.. The program is composed of a string of exercises each performed at various stations in the gym. Always believe in yourself and you can also reach your objectives. We're not there to just enforce the rules. Make certain you inspect thoroughly and properly maintain to guarantee safety. If you take a close look at practice in Russia, every practice at each club throughout the country has a particular structure to it, while the US is all around the place. The Foolproof Wrestling Strategy When you speak about wrestling most individuals think about World Wrestling Entertainment also referred to as WWE. Therefore, attempting to use periodization for wrestling may appear impractical. Women wrestlers who tune out all of the horny boy stuff which goes about. Wrestling is so closely associated with life, he explained. Brock Lesnar is easily among the most protected Superstars in WWE history and he's got a WWE huge contract which likewise will come with limited dates. When it has to do with wrestling, it's often in comparison to the UFC and NCAA wrestling. A whole lot of wrestlers have a tendency to jump around to and from other promotions but The Undertaker proved to be a massive portion of WWE for his whole run there, 27 decades. WWE serves not just to promote fights, yet to entertain by storytelling. WWE however isn't the only wrestling promotion on the landscape. The Argument About Wrestling In some cases, the defender is equipped to flatten the attacker to the mat like a pancake, thus the name. You are going to be more able to dodge or slip from a tight hold. If you keep in 1 spot, you're putting yourself into a place to be taken down by your opponent or pushed from the mat. A previous alternative is to construct a structure to hold out the costume in the correct form. If you prefer, you even can trample it to the ground. In 1848, Exbroyat produced a big rule that forbade holds beneath the waist. Sacrifice often goes together with dedication. Wrestling to a degree of greatness requires commitments from all possible pieces of your entire body and mind. Unfortunately, it's not stored within the body. Choosing Good Wrestling You need to have a fair command over the neighborhood language at least languages. Inside my opinion, you should attempt to keep periodization simple. Not lots of expressions, usually. It leveled me up indirectly in various ways too. You've got a particular possibility to play such a video game all by yourself and also have a considerable quantity of fun in this approach. This will permit you to bring another facet of the sport in your arsenal of abilities and techniques. The Foolproof Wrestling Strategy Folk wrestling styles aren't recognized as international trends of wrestling by UWW. If your kid is younger or his school does not own a wrestling group, you can discover a regional independent wrestling club. Outlast the competition with the proper wrestling headgear. On the flip side, more than 1 macrocycle might be used over the course of a wrestling season as you could have more than one significant competition which you want to peak for. There's a whole lot of wrestling fan denial. This won't be the case with AEW on a roster that already boasts a number of the best wrestlers on earth and Cody. Every WWE Superstar ought to be given time to come up with their character and prove they are capable, regardless of what the circumstance. The Divas can not merely kick but in the ring, but a lot of them can even manage different wrestlers and even run companies regarding the area of wrestling. WWE however isn't the only wrestling promotion on the landscape. The Ultimate Wrestling Trick Post called that a minimal point. You may think about where in NYC you wish to go to narrow things down. Provided that the story lives on TV, it's entertaining alone. Meanwhile Terri Gold gets all of the air. Be certain to speak to his coach for anything else you will want to understand. WWE's inability to develop transcendent icons is a step over the real issue they are too stubborn to handle. Moreover, autograph events are often held in order to permit fans to fulfill their favorite wrestling superstars up-close and personal. Not necessary, but you need to be related to sports. In earlier times athletes weren't too concerned about a concussion. Life, Death, and Wrestling If you want it, you might have a try! Sandow marks a terrific pop. If you wind up with the incorrect dimensions, just inform us and we'll help you exchange it for the best size. If you have feet, we've got a full array of wrestling shoes in all styles, colours and sizes for you to select from. This is just a slice of cloth that's wrapped around like underwear. To receive added information on john cena cardboard cutout please Visit Website. Remember, wrestling shoes are notoriously tricky to discover the ideal fit. However, while his brothers continue to be around, we're never likely to love Roman Reigns. Valkyrie Spears Grace on the ground. What You Must Know About Wrestling He wore face paint, he'd spit mist into the opinion of his opponent. He's also a fresher face who's on the up. When the wrestler has developed a good square stance, he or she is able to work on a staggered stance, also referred to as an offensive stance. A previous alternative is to construct a structure to hold out the costume in the correct form. Good stance plays an essential part in enabling a wrestler to stay stable on the mat. Some might envision themselves standing on the cap of the podium in 1st location. Grip training should only be carried out at the conclusion of a workout. The Death Mask's present moveset is largely designed with quick, snap maneuvers that could surprise opponents from unexpected angles and offer impact without using an exhaustive quantity of strength. Unfortunately, it's not stored within the body. Why Almost Everything You've Learned About Wrestling Is Wrong You'd have to eat plenty of red meat to coincide with a single serving of powdered creatine, but it is surely present. Athletes ought to be given only sufficient time between sets to get properly set for the exercise they're going to execute. Proteins help to construct muscle. If you need to earn weight, plan ahead, and attempt to get rid of body fat, not muscle. You may have to work on technique initially and boost your volume and intensity as time passes. So it is crucial to receive a steady dose of protein each and every day. The Key to Successful Wrestling Even in the event the early phases of a career, it comes down to the company which is kept. Their chemistry for a team is legendary. It may sound easy, but by spending a little quantity of the match posing you will greatly enhance the caliber of the photos taken of you. But these are all necessary so as to thrill the spectators. 1 important element is to be certain your child regularly mixes with different children. Not exactly my 1st alternative, but it's better than other choices. A Startling Fact about Wrestling Uncovered It is possible to learn that information online and discover what is there. Ideally, in case you have chosen the proper exercises, participants ought to be able to experience a complete cycle 3 times. If you're uncertain about whether it's the case that you or your little one should wrestle, this guide delivers a number of reasons which should help you create your final choice. In the last few years, mixed martial arts have come to be ever more popular for kids and adults of all ages. However, because the years went on I started to comprehend what teaching Middle School children is about. This sport was once thought to be crucial training for most Greek soldiers. We're not there to just enforce the rules. Make certain you inspect thoroughly and properly maintain to guarantee safety. We are constantly looking for volunteers to assist with the other districts. The Tried and True Method for Wrestling in Step by Step Detail Meal replacement drinks are a lot better since you don't need to consider what foods to eat along with them. Athletes ought to be given only sufficient time between sets to get properly set for the exercise they're going to execute. As it takes more time to digest complex carbohydrates, you feel fuller longer and don't will need to eat as much. A kid should never be required to ask what things to eat to shed weight. Such exercises are for when you're attempting to shed weight so as to be in a specific competitive wrestling category. If you're really cutting lots of weight this season, you might not be in a position to obtain strength because the body requires a surplus of calories from food to be able to feed the muscle. Life After Wrestling To retire a legend and act as though you're still an excellent guy to the fans is much more. It needs to be the proper moment, it needs to be the best product and it must be the proper distributor. It sold lots of magazines. Meanwhile Terri Gold gets all of the air. Be certain to speak to his coach for anything else you will want to understand. Whether you like him or not you need to admit he is extremely gifted and definitely looks the component of a top superstar. If there's a school that the business endorses, athletes may benefit from attending the suggested wrestling school in order to enhance their odds of stardom. Not necessary, but you need to be related to sports. Some athletes find it can help to meditate or listen to hypnosis recordings to have them focused and prepared to wrestle. The Wrestling Game So long as you receive a reaction, its working. The only way we are presented with a challenge is when our child gives evidence in the shape of problems she's involved in. Well some of us will try to inform you. I really like that folks love things. The people that are in charge are simply not interested in letting them tell great stories. Wrestling - the Conspiracy In some cases, the defender is equipped to flatten the attacker to the mat like a pancake, thus the name. You are going to be more able to dodge or slip from a tight hold. It is an excellent means to score 5 points when you're losing or to have an essential pin. To put it simply, it's intimidating. The conventional square stance, often known as the defensive stance, is generally the sturdier, but it's also harder to move from quickly. You have to be in control to receive a pin. And what the Death Mask is a person who won't care about stepping toes so as to receive his due. The Death Mask's present moveset is largely designed with quick, snap maneuvers that could surprise opponents from unexpected angles and offer impact without using an exhaustive quantity of strength. Wrestling headgear is mostly utilized to reduce cauliflower ear brought on by repeat ear trauma. Facts, Fiction and Wrestling They get the itch they visit a different business and keep working. Your dog is only going to take note that this modest human is making him feel uncomfortable. The reason this is sensible to know about is mainly because you might find that yourself bored playing the identical game and having options would be wise so that you're able to alter the kind of game you're playing. Bubba finally receives a tag and downloads. I simply don't like that he constantly receives a shot. I don't understand how to demonstrate the respect I feel this man deserves, because certainly once you start to see a legend begin to deteriorate it's challenging to keep in mind the man he was. In addition, I hope not one of the regulars end it. Sasha pulls Becky from the ring. Then consider your wrestling shoes. Vital Pieces of Wrestling When that occurs, the wrestler wins the match. Again, victory is all but inevitable. There are a few great wrestlers at those weights, Cleary explained. Braun angry Big Dog not wish to have match. While Lesnar will be searching for revenge, there are a number of other clashes in the night to seek. A whole lot of wrestlers have a tendency to jump around to and from other promotions but The Undertaker proved to be a massive portion of WWE for his whole run there, 27 decades. The Divas can not merely kick but in the ring, but a lot of them can even manage different wrestlers and even run companies regarding the area of wrestling. Lets look at a number of the WWE roster. Where to Find Wrestling Have men and women in your community speak for your benefit. It is possible to also do a search for people in your region. Taking your child from the school environment to teach her at home is a substantial step, and one which shouldn't be taken without full consideration of the implications. I'm celebrating those who do. For the 69th consecutive calendar year, we hope you take pleasure in the action! When it has to do with chiropractic businesses, going to the one you like and enjoy heading to is crucial. What's more, you can want to get a less intense practice the evening prior to a significant competition so you're recovered and fresh to wrestle hard the following day. Deciding on what's most effective for you. We are constantly looking for volunteers to assist with the other districts. Ok, I Think I Understand Wrestling, Now Tell Me About Wrestling! As an investor, you wish to purchase stocks with the maximum probability of succeeding. Absolutely, price of admission is totally well worth it. It was a means to hedge his bets, the quickest way to get to the top. It doesn't matter the apathy both of these candidates are satisfied with. 1 important element is to be certain your child regularly mixes with different children. The individual was turned over to the right authorities.

The application is the first part of the process. Occasionally with the aid of a hopefuls chat, it’s how mods get to know muses and muns before the group is finalized. Both the mods’ design of the app and the muns’ filling out of the app are pretty important to making sure a good roster can be put together with minimal pain.

Not all apps have the same sections to fill out or the same requirements for each section. Sections like Character Name or Backstory are pretty much on every single app, while other sections such as Likes/Dislikes and sometimes even Personality may not always be on there. It’s up to the discretion of the mods.

Mun Info

What Is It?: A section for information on the mun. Generally includes name/handle, pronouns, and triggers, and may also include time zone (for scheduling purposes), blacklist/greylist, and squicks.

Notes

Yeahhh, this section is pretty much necessary for all apps. It would be really awkward to not know who’s actually writing these characters. It’s also useful for lowering the odds of OOC drama.

Different groups treat triggers and squicks differently. Sometimes squicks are avoided in the OOC chat and triggers just need to be tagged, sometimes both need to be tagged in posts, and sometimes both are just lumped together in a masterlist. Obviously it’s important to note however they’re handled if you don’t want to make people unduly uncomfortable or worse.

Some apps may have a slot for blacklisted muns, and some may just figure you would list anything like that in an Other section. Either way, if there’s another mun you don’t get along with for one reason or another, be sure to list them. It may affect your chances of getting in, but it’s not worth getting into a group if you’re going to spend the whole time worrying about that other mun. IMO, having a specific blacklist section makes cross-checking apps easier for the mods.

Core Muse Info

What Is It?: The name, gender, appearance, talent, personality, bio, and central beliefs of the muse. This is what sets muses apart from each other and is the central part of the application. That being said, some parts of this section can still be added or subtracted if deemed appropriate.

Notes

Different mods will be more or less worried about appearances when it comes to app judging. It can be hard to compare across apps due to (completely valid) differences in drawing ability, image quality, only having a written description available, etc. Having a clean, detailed image and/or an appearance that reflects important aspects of the character or just like a really cute DreamSelfy can leave positive impressions, though.

Some mods prefer to limit numbers of muses with aliases or foreign origins on the roster. The same goes for fake talents, but including a lot of those can get a little weird, especially if someone’s fake talent is the same as/similar to someone else’s real talent. In general, you really don’t want duplicate talents, possibly with the exception of Reserve Course, which isn’t acceptable to all RPs, anyway. Some mods also like some kind of gender balance in the final roster, so sometimes you might get a liiiittle better odds by watching the hopefuls list and applying a rarer gender, but this isn’t always true, either. Just make sure the FAQ covers these sorts of things.

The personality section can be of different lengths and detail levels, and some RPs may accept bullet points or require specific personality aspects or details. Sometimes this section is nixed altogether if mods feel the other app questions should give them a good enough impression of the character’s personality, though I wouldn’t recommend this personally. Just be sure to provide the information asked for, and make sure it makes sense in the context of the backstory.

The same pretty much goes for the backstory/private bio. Just make sure it makes sense with the personality, and hopefully at least one of the two is unique enough to generate interest. There’s nothing wrong with plain/normal kinds of OCs, but you wouldn’t expect to see several of these in one roster. Also be sure any mod triggers listed on the blog are tagged in these. If your backstory has triggers for every mod, you might be better off apping that muse somewhere else, where someone can actually read the whole backstory.

Public bios have been popular but are still not on every app. These are pretty much always paragraph form, and different groups ask for different lengths. They can be a pain to come up with sometimes, and they can get pretty sticky in cases of fake talents or ???s, but they can also be helpful for conveying information that other characters could be expected to know and get an impression from before the game starts. If you put this section on an app, just be sure they’re eventually actually public on the blog/in the chat somewhere or they’re pretty much pointless busy work.

Muse Miscellany

What Is It?: A smattering of questions with less complex answers than personality/backstory. There’s definitely no golden standard for these, though questions related to motives and Monomachine items are common. Also includes likes/dislikes, favorite things/words, and who knows what else. Filling out some of these may be optional.

Notes

These usually aren’t as tough as the other parts of the app, but they can still be a pain if the app requires a ton of them. It’s best to keep this part fairly short, though it should still ask for anything the mods foresee being important in that specific game.

Some of these, like strengths/weaknesses and likes/dislikes, can be good for making the mun think a little harder about their muse. This can make poor characterization more obvious, but a lot of the time this isn’t super necessary information.

Monomachine items are in most apps and can be tricky to come up with. They’re good for revealing lore that your muse may not voluntarily bring up, for providing something that might brighten your muse’s no-good very bad day, or just for memeing. A lot of the time, activity at the Monomachine or local equivalent tapers off much more quickly than activity in general, so it may be better to require a smaller number of these so the interesting ones have a chance to be released into the wild.

It’s also good to have questions about common motives or unique motives the mods plan to use in the RP (most important person/item, biggest secret, etc.). It can provide mods with a good idea of what motives might be effective for a good portion of the roster. Especially when muns may be slow to respond OOC, it’s good to have this information already on hand. 

On that note, it may be a good idea to ask for smaller details (shoe size, hand size, etc.) that may be relevant for investigations with bloody footprints or things like that. It is very hard to get this information from everyone later if it happens to come up, but sometimes people get a little confused or don’t really know what to put for such specific details on the app, so it’s a mixed bag.

I personally (and I’ve seen it on other apps, too) like to include a question about whether a muse is more likely to be a killer, victim, or survivor and why. If you’re trying to keep the app short, this could be cut, but it’s good to have a balanced roster that isn’t all innocent babies who would never hurt anyone or all seasoned criminals who will probably kill someone before the KG is even announced. It’s also good for when volunteers aren’t forthcoming and you’d rather make sure murders can be IC than just 100% random/fair.

Sometimes this kind of information is to be answered IC, like in an interview. In these cases, you might want to make a note if the character’s answer is truthful or not and why.

Prompts

What Is It?: The bane of muns around the world, it’s a section of questions requiring longer, paragraph answers written in third-person like RP posts. Sometimes applicants are provided an array of prompts and can choose from them, sometimes specific prompts are required, and sometimes this section consists of only one prompt or is absent, though this is rare.

Notes

This section takes a lot of time, but it’s the best indicator of a mun’s writing ability for the purposes of the RP. They can be a huge pain to fill out, and some common prompts may be difficult to write a juicy response to, so it’s best to ask for the absolute minimum. Zero-prompt apps exist and can work out, but I wouldn’t care for that as a mod.

Execution prompts in particular can give muns a lot of pause, and I can personally say I’ve given up on an app that was otherwise finished just because I couldn’t come up with an execution. It may be reasonable to cut this prompt to save a lot of pain; however, it’s really best to have these on hand from the start. They can be very hard to get later, and they’re kind of important to DR games.

MM/traitor prompts should be required for those applying for that position. This kind of question might fit in a different section so it doesn’t have to be written like an RP post, but in general it’s hard to pick out a mastermind if you don’t know the deets of why they would start a killing game. You don’t necessarily have to ask for an MM speech, but you should at least know if this would be a satisfying plot twist and/or fit with the game’s lore.

The ability to choose from a list of prompts can help when a mun doesn’t feel very inspired to write about, say, the muse waking up in such-and-such location with no idea how they got there, or when filling out that prompt doesn’t convey the muse’s personality particularly well. On the other hand, asking for everyone to fill out the same prompt(s) makes it easier to directly compare hopefuls.

On that note, I like having less standard prompts, like reactions to not getting a Starbucks order right or how a muse would deal with a crazy roommate. While these can be tricky to come up with if you don’t want to just rip them off from other apps (which you prrrrobably shouldn’t without permission), coming up with unique situations can help muns more easily demonstrate the personalities of their muses instead of blandly answering the same old questions. That being said, these can be a little weird to work with if the muse would never go to Starbucks and/or leave their house in general.

Conclusion

No two games have the same app, and no two should. Applications are important for getting to know enough information to put together a roster that’s going to work out both IC and OOC. They also gather information for later use in the RP, when muses may be harder to get ahold of or have less time to answer questions. Mods just need to ask for what information they think they’ll need, and muns just need to try to provide it. It’s impossible to foresee everything you’ll need, but asking for every piece of info you could possibly have use for would make a longer app than anyone would be willing to fill out.

Click [here] for a listing of all guides!

Countdown Pt 2 - Jason Todd x Reader

Request: If requests are open, could you do a part 2 to “Count Down” where Jason gets injured and the reader winds up being the one to patch him up. And during the commotion, his helmet comes off and the reader freaks out because IT’S THEIR SOULMATE!?!?! Or maybe Alfred tells Jason about how she was his soulmate and so he keeps an eye on her as much as he can until one night he has to step in and save her? If this is too much I completely understand and sorry for it being so long. Have a nice day 💗💗💗!

I hope you like it since I hadn’t even considered a part two to this but the second I saw this request my head went wild. Thank you for the inspiration, I just pray it’s good!! (Also, this is my 100th post and I’m nearly at 400 followers and freaking out inside. Thank you everyone for coming along for this ride)

- People have asked to be tagged (<3) in this Part Two so here you go: @sailorsolar12 @satansspacebubblegum

Soulmate AU: A Soulmate Universe, where the clock on your wrist counts down to the day your soulmate dies.

Part One

Sad to say, you’d been permanently stuck in Gotham since the day he died to the present. Every time you tried to leave, you felt the tug in your gut. The Universe wanted you to stay, which gave you even more motivation to leave, but still. You didn’t date, and most people worth being friends with didn’t cause a fuss if you rejected them once they saw the burnt date on your wrist. You didn’t want to go through that pain again. No more Soulmate deaths.

Your best friend didn’t get it. She thought you’d be desperate to meet your second one so you could have all the time you could have together. She also thought you wouldn’t want anyone else to know you for a minute then lose you to death. You thought avoiding dating would make it even easier for this mysterious soul number two. They could make their assumptions about soulmates, and you could die without causing them a minute of stress.

You’d probably change your mind about that when you were older, but for now, you were twenty, at Gotham University, and working for a section of the police that tried to reach out to teen runaways and orphanages. You’d spend your evenings at the orphanage, talking and getting to the know the kids, taking the older ones out and driving them to any parties they might have, baking with the younger ones, and you’d sleep there to make breakfast and tutor anyone on Saturday morning. You also found yourself playing video games and sports with them before having to leave after lunch on Sunday. Sometimes the police would have you come and talk to the kids they’d found on the streets since you always had a way with people. The kids listened to you and put up less of a fight if you were trying to convince them to get help.

Your introduction back into the Wayne Family life had been when you’d been asked to check in on one Stephanie Brown. It was separate from the police, but the Hospital also asked for your assistance when they were dealing with broken homes and kids with abusive parents. Not only was she the daughter of the Question, but she had been pregnant and had given the baby up for adoption. The Hospital asked you to check in with her, and you had information on her hold of she ever wanted to know where it was. You’d been against it first. You didn’t want anything to do with the Wayne’s, and she was dating Timothy Drake-Wayne. Surely you’d end up having to go to the Manor to meet her one time, and then you’d feel bad for never answering the butler’s calls and never explaining to Bruce why Alfred had tried to reach out to you. Ignoring his butler had resulted in multiple stroppy emails from the billionaire - and you didn’t want to know how he got your email.

You were right, but you were also too much of a pushover to say no when Stephanie sent you the location for your check-up.

You pulled up in the long driveway, suddenly hit with what it would have been like to visit the place when you were younger. You’d barely known Jason, you couldn’t make assumptions about what he was like beyond your one evening together, but you were a hopeless romantic and a very vivid daydreamer. You didn’t think about it. You refused to. You were a smiler, and bright face, a positive energy people needed in their lives. You wouldn’t let yourself seem down.

Steph had said to go round the side and into the gardens, claiming that you’d spot her easily. She was right. She sat, laughing and tangled with Tim Drake under a tree while the sun shined on them. You smiled to yourself, the aura coming off both of them was the aura of soulmates. Their legs were on top of each other, and there was a share bag of crisps knocked over slightly a few metres away.

“Hey?” You broke their bubble.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Stephanie straightened herself up slightly, her legs still tangled with Tim’s. “He’s been stuck in front of a computer for about three days and heavily sleep-deprived, so Alfred called me in - you don’t mind if he’s here right?” She suddenly sounded tense and panicked.

“I’m good if you are…what we might be talking about…?”

“He knows about the baby. We started dating right after I found out…is that weird, Nah, he was helpful and stuff. It was pretty great. Flew back into town just to help me through it.” Steph was a living heart eyes emoji for a good second, and you chuckled. The bags under Tim’s eyes were oblivious, but he was smiling softly back at her.

“Well, how are you doing? And I mean that to both of you,” you raised an eyebrow at Tim.

“Tired.” Tim sighed, leaning back on the tree.

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.” You thirded. “Anything cool going on in your life.”

“This is super casual, don’t you have to ask like a list of questions and stuff?” Tim asked

“Not a therapist yet, just helping out teens for the police and the hospital in the hopes of making people’s lives better.” You shrugged.

“Why do you wanna do that?” Tim asked, and Steph’s eyes went wide.

“Tim!”

“That came out wrong. I mean, helping people is great, what’s your inspiration?”

“I’ve always been good at getting people to talk I guess, plus I have a pretty good way of getting runaways to talk to me.”

“Which is?”

“Are you a runaway?”

“No,”

“Then you don’t need to hear it.” You turned back to Steph, “How’s school going?”

She groaned “I’m assuming you’ve been given information?”

“Just some missing homework and an absent from yesterday.”

“I overslept.” The phrasing was careful.

“Not sleeping well?”

“Nope, been up late at the moment,”

“Any reasons, or just, it’s Gotham, and no one should sleep if they want to live.” You joked and the look Steph and Tim gave each other couldn’t have been more obvious. Everyone was a bit stressed at the moment. Batman seemed to be at war with the Red Hood a few months back, then he disappeared, and reappeared about to unmask Batman and the latest Robin, then he disappeared again, and Batman disappeared. Then they both reappeared a few weeks back and even though there didn’t seem to be a problem between them this time - guns were a tense subject in America and having him just running around Gotham kept everyone on their toes and well behaved. “Wanna talk about that look or are you going to make me analyse it?”

“How are you doing at the moment?” Stephanie changed the subject. You stood up walked towards her and held out a hand. She took it and once you’d pulled Steph to her feet you gave her a tight hug. “Everything you say is between us and only us. No judgement. It’s okay to be scared.”

“There’s just a lot of stress at the moment.” You felt Stephanie relax slightly until the butler appears from the back door.

“Master Tim - ” his sentence was cut short when he saw you. “(Y/N)! What a surprise!”

“You know Alfred?” Stephanie pulled away to look at you closely. “Do you work for Bruce?”

“God no, well he basically owns the city so technically I do, but Bruce Wayne probably hates me. I never answer his emails.” You said while lifting your head to the side slightly.

“What?” Tim was looking at you, a gleam in his eye that made you feel vulnerable. Like he knew everything about you - or he would by the end of the conversation.

“What are you doing here? Not that you aren’t welcome,” Alfred had hurried over to the pair of you.

“What’s going on?” Steph’s walls were going up which meant you two were probably going to have a Bruce Wayne conversation in the future. There were some issues and anger to be dealt with there.

“Miss (Y/N) here, is…was Master Jason’s - ”

“Alfred!” You cut him off before he could finish the sentence, your voice raised slightly - something which didn’t happen often.

“Jason’s Soulmate…” Tim finished the sentence looking at the inside of your wrist. “You were - ”

“Yeah, you don’t need to say it again.” You sighed.

“Jason’s Soulmate…” Stephanie muttered in shock. “That must have been awful.”

“I knew him for about an evening of talking and a few days of texting…” your voice was low. You knew going to Manor wasn’t a smart decision.

“Anyway, you two are needed in Master Bruce’s…office,” Alfred said to Tim and Steph, and they disappeared in a second.

“I should probably go.” You didn’t like how stiff your voice sounded.

“You should come back for another visit,” Alfred suggested.

“I’m sure you’re very nice and all, and you mean it with the best intentions - but the last thing I want to do is be at the home my soulmate ran away from before he was killed.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you. Tell Steph she owes me a full half hour of chat,” you didn’t wait to hear him say yes as you exited the garden and hopped in your car to drive away.

Since that afternoon, something was off around you. Not with you, just around you. Gotham suddenly felt a lot safer. You spotted Red Robin and Spoiler watching you and the older orphanage kids head into a bowling alley, and you kept seeing red flashes when you walked anywhere at night. It took you two days to get curious as to what was happening and test this new aura. You did something very unlike you and went for a rooftop walk in the more dangerous part of Gotham.

Most of the buildings were tall and closely packed together, a few alleys ways every now and again - and you weren’t stupid enough to try and see if you could cross them. You walked across four buildings, waiting for anything to happen, anything at all.

“What are you doing.” You tensed up, turning round to face the Red Hood in all his hun slinging glory.

“Wandering.” Your voice was tight, and you started to regret your evening out very much.

“It’s not safe.”

“Has Batman been sending his army of smaller selves to watch me?”

“Why would I know?”

“Cos you’re clearly involved with him somehow.” Red Hood laughed.

“Just get back home okay.”

“Aren’t you going to try and shoot me?”

“My line of work is a lot more complicated than that.”

“How old are you?”

“20.”

“My age, I might know you.” You said without really thinking the sentence out fully, it just slipped out and he didn’t deny it. “So what’s your business with the city tonight?”

“I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Why not? You’re in the works with Batman, so anything you do will be all over the papers by next week, to my knowledge we don’t know each other, I have no place better to be. Talk to me.” The sentence felt all yo familiar but you didn’t click why you just had a weird sense of Deja vu. Something obviously bugged the Red Hood too as you noticed him tense for a second before relaxing.

“Do you always walk around smiling and saying things like that?”

“Not purposefully.” You shrugged. “Does it bother you that I’m smiling right now?”

“I just don’t get how people can be that happy all the time.”

“Maybe you should try it sometimes. Being positive is actually quite fun.” You teased and turned to look at the sky. Gotham was the city of clouds, the Batman symbol shining exactly where it always did. “So what are you dealing with tonight.”

“Just a surveillance job.”

“And why did you come talk to me?”

“You’ve been walking on these buildings for a good half hour, and I got curious.”

“It’s been half an hour?” You looked at your watch “Wow, time does fly when you’re alone with your thoughts.”

Jason didn’t like being at the Manor any time of the year, but when the whole family were together, it was the worst. The only reason he was there was because Dick had saved his ass and taken him back for stitches - now he was stuck listening to Stephanie half Yelp half encourage him.

“She’s so nice! Don’t you dare be mean to her and screw this up! Literally, how did someone so kind-hearted end up with you for a Soulmate! She’s the most supportive person I’ve ever met!”

“Cut it out already!” Jason snapped, grabbing some toast and contemplating shoving it in her mouth.

“I can’t believe you spoke to her but didn’t tell her!” Stephanie complained and Jason froze. He hadn’t even known who his soulmate was until Steph started screaming about it, and he only took it seriously when Alfred told him what had happened. That was the real reason he was still in Gotham. He didn’t care about Bruce’s job for him; he cared about the fact someone out there had been hurt by his death. Someone had really cried for Jason Todd - not Robin, not Bruce Wayne’s ward. Jason Todd.

“How do you know I spoke to her.” He spoke very quietly and everyone in the kitchen tended. He wasn’t sure if everyone in the room would ever trust him over than Alfred - but him speaking calmly terrified them more than him yelling.

“This is your first time in town not trying to kill one of us; you can’t blame me for wanting to know what you’re doing.” Bruce was observing him, and Jason didn’t enjoy being treated like a bomb about to explode.

“So that’s why you’ve been spying on her!” Jason almost laughed. “She’s seen you, you know. She knows somethings up because she’s seen you guys watching her! But you’re not watching her. You’re watching me.”

“Why are you just watching her if you aren’t going to talk to her?” Tim finally asked what they were all thinking.

“I died, Tim.”

“I know. It’s your favourite topic of conversation.”

“I can’t just walk up to her as Jason Todd. The second I do anything, everything comes out about what happened, all of you guys, and this entire world. She becomes apart of it. And I don’t even know her that well.”

“She’s your Soulmate. You are one of the few people who have 100% proof that they’ve found their soulmate.” Stephanie said, looking slightly towards Tim.

“Wooo, dying has one plus side I guess!” Jason said sarcastically. “The universe can say all it wants but let’s be real, whether she’s my soulmate or not, it’s my choice to be with her. My choice to use this information. If I ever decide I want to be with someone; it’s going to be my decision, not the universes, not you guys, mine.” Jason stuffed another piece of toast into his mouth and left the Manor as quickly as he could.

“He’s going to spy on her some more, isn’t he.” Dick mused

“Oh definitely,” Steph responded. “She just has this quality about her that makes it impossible to dislike her.”

So that’s what Jason did. He watched and he watched and he stayed in Gotham. Taking down bad guys and causing no trouble. He even started to obey some of Bruce’s rules. He didn’t want to be driven out of the city until he made up his mind. This was his choice to make - and yours he guessed. He didn’t want to cut you out of the conversation when it was your future he’d be deciding too. But talking to you meant he had to choose before someone in his family did it for him. He didn’t trust Stephanie not to somehow do something about the situation the next time she saw you. He also didn’t think Steph would do it with any cruel intentions. She understood where Jason came from, she was similar to him in many ways - and she justed wanted to help.

The gun rule was not one of the ones he followed. He liked using guns, but it was also guns that meant he was bleeding to death in an alley. He’d seen you walking around late at night again; you were coming back from dropping some kids off at the orphanage and obviously tired. A tired young woman was a prime target, and someone had grabbed you. He had to interfere, but his game was off. He kept expecting you to freak out, say his name, and he was worried you’d already been hurt. They’d pulled out a gun and shot six bullets while he was distracted. He was going to hunt them down and make them pay once he could move.

“Oh my god.” he heard your voice and for a second he thought his brain had made it up as some sick twisted way to give him comfort, but that wasn’t the case. You were there. You were talking to him. “You need to stay awake!”

“Get away…”

“No way, you need help, I’m going to get you help.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, bullet holes and blood equal fine.”

“I’ve been through worse.”

“Sure, and I’m sure that’s not part of the reason you’re running through Gotham as a gunslinging vigilante. Therapy’s a thing, and this is not normal. You’re not fine.”

“Just, get -”

“Get you some help? Sure.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,”

“Well, it’s what I said.”

“I’m -”

“In need of help, yes, I know,” you were searching him for any way to call any of the other superheroes to come help. You doubted he’d want to go to a hospital.

“Getting a bit feely, at least buy me dinner first.”

“Isn’t that normally the girl’s line?” You finally got sick of looking at the stupid helmet.

“You need air.”

“I’m -”

“Need to breathe.”

“That one didn’t work.”

“Doesn’t matter, you need air, and you need to text someone your location.”

“Please don’t take the Helmet off.”

“Would you rather die.”

“A little bit.”

“Very funny.” You felt around his head and found the two clasps, pulling the helmet off and take advantage of the fact he seemed unable to move the rest of his body. He wore a mask over his eyes which made you laughed, “See, isn’t it nice breathing fresh air?”

“I can -”

“I can breathe now, and it’s beautiful.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” it wasn’t even close. Jason was going to say that he could explain. But the mask and blood meant you didn’t recognise him. Even without the mask you might not, he’d changed quite a lot since he’d died. He was safer than he thought, and sadly that fact hurt him a little bit.

“I’m taking this,” you pulled out his earpiece and put it in your ear, tapping the side to turn it on. “Red Hood’s bleeding to death in an alley.”

“Um…hello?”

“Hi, Anyway someone can come and get him?”

“Getting your location now.” you recognised the voice, but not well enough to place it.“I took the helmet off so he could breathe properly, he can talk, but he’s really pale and was shot like six times,”

“Spoiler and Nightwing are on their way.” the line went dead, so you assumed the person had ended the call.

You looked at the face beneath the helmet very carefully. Some part of your mind was turning and putting the dots together - I mean, there’s only so much face a mask can cover. Something was there, something you couldn’t figure out and it was infuriating.

“Do I know you? I know you probably won’t tell me, but like…”

“Kinda.” He didn’t say anything else as you suddenly gasped. He’d changed, he changed a lot. And you didn’t understand how on earth he was alive. He couldn’t be alive. Your mind was playing tricks. A similar voice and facial structure didn’t equal Jason Todd. Jason Todd was dead and people don’t come back from the dead. You were being crazy, and irrational. But if laser shooting flying men were real, was resurrection really that impossible? You’d been at the funeral. You’d seen Alfred and Bruce’s reaction. You’d seen his older brother Dick beating himself up for not trying to be a good brother to Jason. You’d cried. You’d cried for someone you barely knew. He couldn’t just be alive. You were assuming things.

But you had two dates in a world where you only get one soulmate. It would make sense.“Your friends will be here soon…”

“Take the mask off.” He could guess what you were thinking based on the reaction.

“No. I will not have that conversation now. You can’t be -”

“Jason Todd.” he tried to nod.

“Nope.”

“I can-”

“Nope.” You took a step back, your breathing picking up. “I went to Jason Todd’s funeral, and I can’t yell at you while you’re dying.”

“Yell?” he didn’t expect you to yell.

“I’m freaking out a bit right now so yes I will probably yell.” your voice was all over the place, but you were determined not to yell. He didn’t deserve to be yelled at. “You can’t be Jason Todd, Jason Todd died.”

“I can explain everything.”

“Then do that, when you’re not dying.” You refused to believe it. “Jason Todd’s already dead, so he can’t be dying right now.”

“Take the mask off.“

“Fine, but only to prove you can’t possibly be Jason Todd because I went to Jason Todd’s funeral.” you were shaking slightly, wishing Nightwing and Spoiler would just show up already to end whatever mind trick Red Hood was playing. You leant forward slowly, peeling the mask off and trying to convince yourself not to. Not knowing the answer would be better than knowing because then you could pretend your first and real soulmate was out there. You could also assume that this was all some evil game and that Jason was dead and continue living your life just the same. It would be your choice.

The Red Hood, had been a killer, he’d gone rage on Gotham more than once and he used a gun. He killed people, and he worked in the shadows. You’d seen the amount of chaos and fear he created. If this was Jason, you didn’t know what you’d do. You’d want to give him a chance, and in a way, he was more effective than Batman, but you weren’t one for violence. You’d never been. You liked positive thinking and smiling faces. But it this was Jason, it was your soulmate. And he had really died, so whatever brought him back would’ve messed him up pretty badly so could you blame him for wanting to be a bit more permanent with his methods of dealing with crime. Every thought in your head was running wild and merging faster than you could cope with. You were overwhelmed and ready to break down. You couldn’t deal with all of this; no one should have to deal with all of this.

The mask fell to the floor, and it may have changed, but it was Jason Todd’s face. You’d stared at a picture after he’d died to help you process everything. You’d memorised his face and thought about how it may have changed if he’d been given a chance to live. You may not have known him all that well but you didn’t want to forget him.

“I went to your funeral.” you started to cry. The third time you’d let yourself cry over it, “You better recover and explain what the hell is happening.”

“Can I see your wrist?” he asked. You raised it slowly to show him.

He ran his fingers over the scaring on the first date. The burns had never faded and you could still vaguely still the numbers underneath. The 0 had turned into minus numbers just to remind you how long you’d survived without the universes input. He kissed the burn lightly.

“Crap, that’s a large number…”

“Which one?”

“Both of them.” you laughed slightly, still crying. “I guess you’re going to be living quite a while then, no dying tonight..”

“Your number’s big too.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“We’re here!” Spoiler announced, stopping dead when she saw you.

“We’re taking her to the cave,” Jason instructed.

“Obviously.” Spoiler nodded while Nightwing picked his little brother up.

“So, Dick Grayson?” you assumed, pointing to Nightwing and trying to piece everything together in your head.

“This is going to be a fun week.” Dick laughed

Part One