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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Seeds of Doubt

Masterlist

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, marital discord/neglect, cheating, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your marriage forges on despite some uncertainties.(Regency AU)

Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne

Note: You can imagine any Bruce you want. I hate Affleck so I went for Christian Bale in my head but to each their own. I pictured Cavill because uhhhh yes, but hey if you wanna go with Brandon Routh that’s chill af, or Tom Welling.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Humpty Dumpty love falling off walls. Take care. 💖

Your boots crunch into the snow as Bruce keeps a firm grip on your hand, helping you down from the height of the sleigh. The horses in their crested jackets kick at the glistening carpet and snort clouds into the frigid air. Your steps sink deep as the chill nips at your heavy wool stockings and you cling to your husband to keep afoot.

"What are we doing all the way out here?" You ask as he uses his free hand to fix your cape around your skirts, pulling the fur-trimmed layer snug against the chilly air.

"Perhaps I should've found sense earlier in the summer," he releases you reluctantly as he slips past you to reach back into the sleigh, "that I never did show you my favourite parts of our estate."

Our. Those early years, it was always 'my', a reminder of your intrusion upon his solitary. But now, there are two of you, husband and wife.

"Oh but I've wandered," you assure him.

"Not enough," he takes out a fabric sack, heavy as its contents give a thick clink. "Come," he turns and offers his arm, his other hand gripping the mystery shrouded in fleece-lined leather.

You let him guide you beneath the barren branches wrapped in thin layers of ice that sparkle like crystal. The long arms of timber form an archway over you as the ground lifts slightly with each step. Over the rise of snow and earth, a shining expanse of ice greets you, a thick sheet frozen over the once placid pond. Bruce is correct, you never ventured this far.

"Oh, you do keep many secrets," you muse as he leads you on cautiously, checking often and keeping his grasp steady so that you do not slip.

"When I was a boy, this was my favourite place to come after… I became lord," he says somberly as he approaches the oaken bench, sheathed in a layer of powder and frosts, "no matter the season, it is always a comfort."

You give a bittersweet smile and hum of acknowledgement. It was often whispered that Wayne's parents died terribly early in his life and suggested that this might be the reason for his staunch character. You considered it yourself and often thought on how that dagger could never be plucked from his chest. It may be the reason his anger was so fervent for Lord Kent, more so, why he was a distant husband so early in your marriage. Yet, you could not help but think it may have been yourself as well.

"Sit," he bids as he lets you go and sweeps away snow on the bench.

"Why are we here, sir?"

"Blossom," he warns, girding you against your incessant curiosity, "might I have withhold a secret long enough to delight you?"

"Apologies," you say guiltily and lower yourself onto the bench, your hips aching with the temperature, "I am only excited to know."

"And it is much endearing," he smiles up at you and settles his hand on your skirt, squeezing your knee through the fabric, "the way your eyes shine is almost as intoxicating as when I am entwined with you."

"Husband," you touch your hot cheeks with you gloves coyly.

"Perhaps in the sleigh, upon our return, I might warm you well," his hand travels down the length of your skirt as he bends to look you in the face. He plays with the frozen hem between the tails of your cloak, "we will ride slow and you might sit astride me…"

"Why, my lord husband, you do grow insatiable," you trill as heat spatters up your legs and gathers in your core, "we might catch cold–"

"I am sick for the feel of you, my wife," he grips your ankle and smirks, "that I do suffer every moment you are not around me."

You giggle, sweating beneath your fur cap, "you delay and I am anxious to unveil your surprise."

"You detract and spurn my desires," he reproaches as he draws his hand away, "but do not think you will not atone for such an aloof act for I know you long for me as I do you. I see how it hazes in your eyes, my vixen."

You give another laugh and clap your gloves together, "I want to know, husband!"

He sighs and reaches for the bag, tugging open the gathered top to reveal his plot. Curved wooden frames affixed with rails of iron, curling at the end, as leather straps crisscross the structure. The skates will glide easily across the lake once upon your feet though you haven't faith that you can stay upright upon them.

"My lord, I have never… I cannot skate," you declare.

"I will be here," he takes a skate and kneels, pulling your foot from beneath your dress, "you can hold onto me and I will keep you safe, as I've sworn to you."

Your lips curve tautly, his words reminding you of those before. His angry vows against Lord Kent. Your deceit that can never be cleansed. That Bruce must now live with that knowing and ever be vigilant of your straying.

You blow it away with a foggy shudder as he takes your foot and lines up the first skate. You let him buckle the straps around your boots, his hand lingering on your calf as his dark eyes glimmer with temptation. Why that very morning you could hardly free yourself of his bed for his persistent embrace.

He gets the second in place and stands, propping a foot on the edge of the bench as he works at strapping up his own boots. He works diligently through the thick hide of his gloves. Like everything, he has a quiet stoic determination. And as ever, he often makes you feel foolish by comparison.

He plants his feet and once more gives his hand for you to take. He helps you up and you wobble, uncertain. He turns you with an amused snort and coaxes you towards the lake, "trust me, dear, I will not let you fall."

"It is not you I lack in faith in but myself," you quip.

He tuts as you near the edge of the lake. He takes a brave step onto the gleaming surface and turns to face you, offering his other hand. You latch on gratefully as your legs wobble. You push your foot onto the ice and drag your other behind you reluctantly.

He effortlessly glides backward, urging you further onto the ice, and you squeal as you look down treacherously at the dark sheet. You stumble but he keeps his hold on you.

"Don't look down," he chides, "look at me."

You lift your chin and meet his deep brown eyes. Your heart leaps. You wouldn't have known before how his irises stirred like hot cocoa.

"I have you, blossom," he assures and detaches a single hand, turning to stand arm to arm with you, keeping your hand locked in his, thumb pressing against your knuckle to soothe you.

You allow him to move you, girding his direction to move your feet below and push yourself ahead. You are clumsy but do not fall, growing more attune to the skates. He patiently keeps pace and guides you in a curve around the border of the water.

As you gain speed upon the grand arc, he lets go of you and find yourself ahead of him, unassisted. You cry out in fear.

"Keep your feet in motion," he says from behind, "you are doing well, dear."

"Oh, Bruce," you exclaim over your shoulder, "I will fall!"

"You are not falling, you are skating," he clucks, "now do not be grim, it is not of you."

"How do I turn?" You whimper as you near the edge, "Bruceeee."

"Lean into it, you will not slip"

You listen and veer before you can touch the snow. You throw your arms out to catch your balance and smile proudly as you scratch to a halt. You face him across the ice and he tilts his head.

"See, blossom," he waves you towards him, "come, you are doing well."

"I cannot believe," you push yourself ahead, making slowly progress to him, "that I am still–"

The sharp crack rips through the snowy din and you stop in place. Bruce's eyes round and he races forward as he calls to you, "get down to your stom–"

Suddenly, you drop as the ice breaks around you, soaking your skirts as you plunge into the frigid water. You can't scream as you swallow up the foam and reach up to try to save yourself. You kick your legs against the heavy layers of your skirt and click. Your muscles ache with the effort, the fabric drawing you deeper.

You feel the weight over you, pooling your chest as you choke on the depths. You can only see a grey light through the ripple of the water as you thrash desperately, the promise of your fate pulling you further into the dark.

You feel a grip on your arm, then something snakes over your waist and you're kicked upwards. Several violent pushes get your head above water and you feel a puff of hit breath over your barren hair, your fur cap lost to the pond. Bruce clings to you and uses and arm to latch onto the sharp edge of the ice.

He moves you closer as your choke and hack. He's frantic as he sets your gloves against the ice.

"Grab on and stay flat," he snarls and dips back beneath the surface.

You feel him beneath you. He struggles to get you up, fighting with the water for leverage. You grasp at the slippery surface as he gets your chest over the top. You wriggle and try to drag yourself across it, making slow progress as you writhe like a worm. As your knees meet the ice, you hear a splash and another heave.

"Keep going, I'll be behind you," he pants and squeezes your boot, "stay flat," he repeats.

You use your elbows and fight against your skirts, weighed down by the excessive layers. You sense him behind you, crawling onto the ice but keeping away from you. He moves faster, easier, as you can barely find the strength to do more than squirm. He comes around and grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the bank.

He moves deliberately and slowly as you cough and chatter. You spit up more water from your fiery lung as you let him drag you. Your shivering grows violent as he finally gets to solid ground. He stands and strains to lift you in your cloak and dress sodden with pond water.

"Fuck," the curse slips from his lips, his own body rigid with the cold as he pivots and moves stiffly over the snow. "I'm so sorry..."

His words drift away as you lean against his chest and shake, overcome with the icy chill seeping to your bones. He slips and slides in his skates, barely keeping from tumbling as they cake with snow and make the way more perilous. He reaches the sleigh, sliding into it and steadying himself as you feel his panic cresting.

He leans you in the dip of the sleigh wall and unpins your cloak, stripping it away as you fall back limp and trembling. He climbs up over you and pulls you further into the vehicle. He covers you with the quilt nestled on the seat but it is hardly enough to shield you from the cold.

He puts you up on the seat with him, pulling you up to sit and shake against him. Your body drains of every ounce of will as the cold consumes. He hugs you with one arm, the tip of his nose red and dripping. He grabs the reins and snaps them, hollering to the horses.

The sleigh lurches and you hit the back of the seat with him. He steers with one hand, stretching out his arm this way and that as he guides the horses forward and turns along the path back toward the manor. Your lashes dip and cling together as the begin to freeze.

You turn your face down into his wet jacket and your hand slips down his stomach. He mutters, his words urgent but gibberish to your ears. You jolt and suddenly, you're lifted again. Bruce slings you over his shoulder as he hops down onto the ground, staggering and spinning on his heels.

You bounce blindly over his shoulder as the world tilts this way and that. You hear the doors and his blustery bellow echoing across the foyer. The warmth within the airy manor is enough to make you shiver anew. His steps jostle you further and you hear the soft tone of his butler.

"She fell in, oh god smite me, she feel in," his voice cuts through the vague sheen of your quaking, "the fire, the fire, please, Alfred!"

He's almost shrieking as he carries you into the front room with the great hearth. He slips you from his shoulder and lowers you onto the rug as his hands shakily work at untying your belt. He strips it away and it flies across the floor as you bite your tongue and close your eyes.

He tugs at you harder as he struggles to free you from your dress and all the layers beneath, stripping them away as the clack of logs brings a strong scent of smoke. He shimmies down your dress and peels away your gloves and stockings after your shift. The layers of your underclothes brush over your skin as his voice continues to drone in horror.

"Master Wayne," the gentle groom draws your lashes apart with his calm tone, "we will warm her, never fear, but you must not be so panicked."

"Alfred, please, you don't understand!" Bruce rips away the last piece of your underclothes and quickly battle with his own wet jacket. The butler moves to find a blanket and covers you with a fluffy skin, "she is with child, Alfred!" Bruce stands as he drops his jacket, "I was so foolish as to take her out on the ice and I knew, I knew. And now..."

"Master Wayne," Alfred approaches him and pats his chest before catching his hands, "you should be as concerned for yourself." The older man unties the drooping scarf at his lord's throat, "you are soaked to the bone. If you catch cold, what then?"

Bruce gives a long look and you turn to look at the fire, the flame bleary in your vision as your body quivers. The swirling fingers of heat look so warm and yet you cannot feel them. The noise of wet fabric piling on the floor comes from behind you and the words finally break through your misty mind.

'She's with child'.... You bring your hand down to your stomach and feel the fullness there, your denial twisting in your chest, you knew too but you didn't want to say. How could he know? Why would he not tell you he did?

"Bruce," you gurgle, "Bruce..."

You sense the movement behind you and the blanket raises, letting in a draft before it's smothered by the warmth of his body. He presses himself to your back and turns you as he slips his arms beneath you. He brings you snugly to his front, a strong embrace trapping you in his heat. You sigh at the relief of his flesh.

"Bruce..." you quaver as you stretch your shaky arms around his naked torso, "... the child... how..."

"Of course I know, blossom," he speaks into your hairline and kisses your forehead, "did you?"

You turn your head down and nuzzle the round muscle along his shoulder. Your tears are hot and salty as they fall. You nod, the only answer your can muster.

"Oh, do be happy as I am," he purrs as he pets your head, rubbing your back as he hook his leg around yours, filling the blanket with his heat, "I could never be more joyous, so be happy and rest... and let me warm you."

You sniffle and curl your fingers into the lean lines of his back. You cannot help but weep, from the fear of the plunge, and what lays ahead? What should you do if the child does not take after him? What should you do should you look into the eyes of your child and see Lord Kent?

💗

You still, only shivering now and again as another trickle of ice flows into your veins. You remain as you have been, before the fire, surrounded with nearly every cushion in the manor and draped in almost as many blankets. The fire burns hotly, tended frequently by the servants, as you bask in its glow. You don't mind it there but alone, it feels rather empty.

As if beckoned by your thought, Bruce comes to you, a tray of tea balanced in his hands. It is unlike him to act as servant but he lowers himself to his knees and presents his offerings. A pot painted with scenes of the Yule and two matching cups on saucers, a silver milk pot and a dish for the sugar. There is also a heaping plate of shortbreads.

He lays down a book as he settles beside you on the eider laid beneath you. He crosses his legs as he takes the teapot and fills the cups, "to warm you, my dear wife."

"You could've asked Ester--"

"I wanted to do it," he insists and arches a brow as his dark eyes flick up in your direction, "I would do anything for you wife, even wrestle sweets from our own stubborn cook."

You smile as he adds milk to your tea, the usual dollop you allow yourself. That he does not add sugar surprises you. He knows your preference. You accept a cup from it and cradle it as he fixes the blanket across your lap. He does fuss at you since the day before, more than usual and in a much different manner.

"I am well, husband, do not fret," you coo, "please."

"I cannot help it," he reluctantly pulls away, his hand brushing down the shape of your leg beneath the quilts, "I was so stupid--"

"You could not know the ice would break," you argue, "truly husband, I am well and you are not to blame."

"But to think, the child..."

"The child," you sip to hide your doubt.

"Our child," he says, and angles the tray around him to move closer, "are you not happy for it?"

"Very. But for a woman, it is also scary."

"Yes, it would be," he shifts and reaches for the book, "but we must keep you fine and content. So..."

"Wordsworth, again?" You wonder at the cover, worn further by his fingers.

"You prefer something else?"

"No, I do enjoy to hear you read whatever you choose," you say, "but I wonder why it is always that?"

He opens the book and smooths the page, his lips thinning with his thoughts then slowly curving, "because it reminds me of the day in the garden. I was utterly terrified."

"You were?" You ask as his eyes evasively scatter over the text.

"Of course I was, you had every right to deny me after all I'd done and failed to do," he says, "I truly expected those flowers to be swung in my direction for I did deserve that but you are kind and I did not see it for very long. And for that, I will atone to you for the rest of my life."

"Dear," you reach to touch his sleeve, "and what of my misdeeds?"

He winces and his jaw clenches, "they are not yours." He clears his throat and finds his place.

"I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o’er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze …"

The verse calms you but cannot chase away your worries. It cannot make you forget the carriage or the way Clark touched you as only your husband should. Of how your body responded with the same fervent heat. Yet, there is some contrast. There was no fear with Bruce, no pain.

Bruce quiets and it draws you back to the present. He holds the book open as he watches you and you shyly peer into your tea. His gaze hovers, sparking within you a flickering uncertainty.

"You're beautiful, you must know it?" He puts the book aside, "and I should be struck for not saying it every day of our union. Would that you--" he pauses and reaches to take the cup away from you and sets it away on the tray, "would give me the remonstrance I deserve," he puts your palm to his cheek, "smack me, my dear wife, as I did neglect you, and I did nearly bring to ruin the gift you would bring me."

"No, please," you try to tug away from him but he keep a hold of you, snaking his arm around your middle to pull you closer, "I could not."

"And for that, I am not worthy," he coos as his lips brush yours, "but I shall ever labour to be."

He keeps his arm around you as he kisses you, pulling back the blanket as he slips his legs beneath. He brings you down with him as he lays with you, rolling you atop him so you squeak into his mouth. His tongue delves to meet yours and he devours you, his hand slipping to squeeze your bottom.

"Husband," you part, breathless, "not here--"

"I am the master of this house," he hums as he kneads you through your nightgown, "and I shall have you where I wish within its bounds."

"Bru--"

You cannot finish as he grabs your jaw and pulls you back to his mouth. His other hand slips down your thigh and he pulls your leg down so you straddle him. You press against his chest and he pushes you back so that you rise on your knees over him.

"But, perhaps, you might be the master of me," his hand drifts down to your collar and the other rises to pluck apart the laces there, "for I am in your thrall."

You shake your head and look away bashfully. He pulls apart the laces and tugs wide the nightgown down your shoulders. He brings it low enough to bare your chest and gropes you fondly, thumbs tracing your nipples, as he rocks under your luridly.

"Pull up your skirts and take me, wife," he growls, "my vixen."

You drag your hands down the linen of his shirt, loose over a pair of pants and nothing else. He lounges since your descent and all pretense has gone. You bite your lip as you feel his firm chest and he lets out a rattling breath.

You lift yourself on your knees as you let your hand trail down to the hem of his shirt. You push your fingers below and feel along his stomach and the subtle incline to his pelvis. You pull at his breaches, unhooking the buttons one a time as you watch him twitch.

He fondles your chest as you do, hands wandering to your sides and back, as he takes you in. He lets you yank down his pants and he chuckles as you can't help but giggle. You feel ridiculous. It is usually he who has the reins.

You grab him and pull him above the open vee of his trousers. You stroke him and he gasps and groans. His teeth sink into his lip and he tweaks your nipple in retort. You purr and do it again, angling the tip against your folds. You rub yourself with him as you tease his shaft.

His throat constricts as the muscles along his shoulders and chest tighten. You inhale, a new sensation beating in your chest. You tilt your hips as you slicken him with your arousal and feel the thrumming need growing.

You push him against your entrance and slide down. He rasps into a snarl as you impale yourself with him and your head drops back in a relieved sigh. The fullness is reassuring. His hand trails down to grip your hip as you meet your limit and you press your nails into his sides.

"Husband," you raise your head and swat his hands away, gripping his thick biceps and forcing them down against the eider, "shall I take you?"

"You already have," he grits out as you peer down into his eyes, his chest rising and falling eagerly, "oh, vixen, I am yours."

You roll your hips and he groans, long and lurid, and it echoes around the great chamber. You repeat the motion, carrying it, even and slow over him as you watch him languish in the torment. It stokes some fire within you never knew, a sense of power you were unaware was lacking.

You move faster, your hips working without a thought, as you bring a hand up to frame his face and then tension that strains in his cheek. You tangle your fingers in his dark hair as he pants and puff, groaning out your name as you ride him into the eider. You keep one arm pinned as his other hand slinks up to caress your stomach and the new bit of weight there.

You grab his hand and spread it over your middle as you lean back, bucking against him you succumb to the furious need building in your core. The friction against your bud scalds down your thighs and fuels your need, until finally you feel the cool release.

You moan as you cum but do not stop. More, more, you need more. You squeeze his wrist as his hand remains at your stomach and your walls clench him hungrily. He snarls through his teeth and lifts his head only to drop it heave against the feather filled blanket below. His stomach knots visibly as his muscles tauten and brace his shoulder as you fuck him harder and harder.

"Oh, I…" he gulps and ekes out a pathetic whine as he cums, spasming as you relish in his ecstasy. "Blossom, oh, please, I am spent–"

"No, no, husband," you say breathily as you push his chest and keep him to the floor, "you wish to atone," you keep your hips rolling even as he whimpers, "I would grant you your wish."

#bruce wayne #clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #bruce wayne x reader #clark kent x reader #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #series #marriage of inconvenience #au #regency au #dc #dcu #superman #batman

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killingdoll · 1 year

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“Smile for the camera”

The Atom and Superman, both portrayed by Brandon Routh

———

Commission done by GLue (Twitter)

#brandon routh #the atom #superman #ray palmer #lot #legends of tomorrow #arrowverse #clark kent #superman returns #crisis on infinite earths #fanart #commission

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lightgamble · 6 years

Photo

DC in DC | 2018 | Brandon & Caity (x)

The art of the matter: from sketch to screen

#Legends of Tomorrow #DC in DC #lotedit #Brandon Routh #Caity Lotz #LOT Cast #Not Revolution #GIF set #Mine #I like that they're the ambassadors of LOT #and nothing really interesting happened so I'm just going to gif them smiling #because they're adorable #and I like that it's really hard to see where Brandon ends and Ray begins #because the moderator mentions that Brandon's played two superheroes now and happens to mention that Brandon's 'one of his #favourite supermans' and Brandon gets all aw shucks and then right at the end when everyone's fleeing the stage he quickly #walks in the opposite direction to shake the guys hand first #which isn't really gif worthy but it was very cute #and omg he needs a haircut

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willowcrowned · 2 years

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i would like more of your thoughts on ray and his biceps wandering around star wars

okay so the first thing to understand about me and Ray Palmer is that I had literally zero interest in him until I saw him stumble in those gogo boots in the mamma mia episode, at which point I spiraled very deeply into an embarrassingly intense crush, and the second thing to understand about me and Ray Palmer is that I am, at heart, someone who believes schadenfreude to be one of the true pleasures of life, and so I fully plan to inflict my own experience on any Star Wars character he runs into.

First on the list is Maul, which we discussed on your post. Ray Palmer meets Maul. Ray Palmer smiles at Maul. Sparkles and rainbows and unicorns surround him, and Maul feels an intense surge of emotion he's choosing to believe is hate, because the alternative is that this man in the tightest white pants and high boots you've ever seen, scarf wrapped around his neck, is making Maul feel things, and that won't do. Maul stabs Ray. Ray is very nice and understanding about it. This makes Maul feel more things. He stabs Ray again. Ray is still nice and understanding about it. Maul stabs—

Second on the list is Obi-Wan, because I think he should have to endure some of my flavor of humiliating humiliation. Ray is trapped without the atom suit. Ray is going to die. Obi-Wan swings in like Indiana Jones, and Ray, who canonically has a thing for people who are a little bit condescending and a lot a bitch, falls deeply in love with him and his laser sword. (Yes, I do mean it that way too.) Obi-Wan, on the contrary, has zero feelings about this damsel male model in distress. Then Ray comes by to say thank you later, and his shirt is tight and his pants are tight and Obi-Wan is a lot of things including someone who pretends he doesn't fuck, but he does, he really really does, and Ray's biceps are incredible and Obi-Wan can kind of see his abs through his shirt and he feels like the equivalent of unicorn cocaine in the Force and—yeah, Obi-Wan is fucked. (Yes, I do mean it that way too.)

Third on the list is Luke, because I care far, far less about timelines than I do about inflicting by deeply unfortunate lust for Brandon Routh on people in Star Wars, and also because both Luke and Ray are the kind of sweet bimbos you want to see everywhere, and I think they would have nauseatingly adorable sex and would pass each other love notes and pack each other's lunches and have plenty of 'no YOU hang up' moments, and also Luke fully zones out the first time Ray takes off his jacket because biceps, dear god biceps, and Ray of course sort of notices but mostly thinks he's being nice because he thinks everyone is exaggerating their lust for him because he has terminal bullied-as-a-child syndrome, which is mostly really sad but also really, really funny, because he genuinely does not understand that people mean every bit of innuendo and bedroom eyes they throw at him. I think he and Luke also make special salads for each other because fresh vegetables are still a new and special thing to Luke and Ray is... well, Ray.

Fourth and last on this list, but by no means the last injured by the unfortunate charm of the world's sweetest sexy adult teen baby nerd, is Qui-Gon, and honestly this one I kind of hate for reasons I'm not willing to think about, but it would happen, and I am a woman of science and so must describe my highly scientific findings when I happen upon them, and these are my findings:

Qui-Gon Jinn picks up strays. Ray Palmer is the definition of a stray; he's the kitten you find in a gutter that mews pathetically, the one that stares at you with big round eyes like he knows you can't take him home and understands why and doesn't blame you, really, he doesn't, but he wishes... well, he wishes. Also, he's hot, and Qui-Gon isn't shallow, but he's not exactly immune either.

So: Qui-Gon finds Ray looking charmingly sad and pathetic all by his lonesome on a planet, possibly clothed in some diaphanous and deeply see-through clothes for Reasons that definitely exist even if I don't care about them. He then rescues Ray, being kind of a dick about it, but unfortunately Ray is pretty into dicks (pun intended) and he's also pretty naked and Qui-Gon won't, like, take advantage of someone, but after a certain point it becomes pretty clear that Ray could make it out of there on his own and he's just not doing that, and also he keeps doing the shy look-up-from-under-your-eyelashes thing even though he's barely two inches shorter than Qui-Gon, and Qui-Gon, for reasons that end up being utterly unknown and confusing to himself, fucks Ray Palmer.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

#I was going to finish the second half of the next chapter of SRFS and then I saw this ask and I couldn't not reply #legends of tomorrow #ray palmer #star wars #dykerory #this is my highly developed opinion

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badgerhuan · 7 years

Photo

Brandon Routh at Comic-Con Chile 2016 (x)

Chilean Interviewers: *speak rapidly in Spanish* Brandon: ??????????????????

#brandon routh #brandonrouthedit #legends cast #i'm dying #guys he's trying s o h a r d #the thing is he has a translator with him but he's still listening so intently to the inteviewers #brandon. brandon honey it's ok no one expects you to suddenly magically understand spanish #you can't learn a new language through sheer determination brandon #you did your best i'm proud of you #a frame from the bottom right gif is now my groupchat icon #that's me 90% of the time tbh #unsure confused smile as life happens around me #wow can you believe i'm actually brandon #roch gifs #roch speaks

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robbiedaymonds · 3 years

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2020 content creator tag

Rules: answer the questions and then tag 10+ other creators to answer the questions! thank you so much @taylorjoy-anya for tagging me!

i’m digging into my old blogs ( @wmhalliwell & @brandon-routh ) for this one since i've only had this blog since november just fyi!

first creation and most recent creation of 2020: this finn/poe scene was my first 2020 gifset!; my most recent creation is also the one i’m most proud of from 2020, it’s seriously a work of art imo and i’m proud of myself for not giving up on it

one of your favorite creations from 2020: this julie molina set; i tried really hard with making each gif a special color and i think the text is good! it’s also got lyrics from my favorite indie band, parsonsfield, on it ;)

a creation you’re really proud of: this 12 monkeys gifset took me 2 days to make after a few days of research and searching for tutorials and inspiration through many blogs and i think it’s the prettiest thing i’ve ever made

a new style you tried this year and a gifset that uses it: blending gifs! i tried it with this willex set

your favorite coloring: definitely this green rey set; i still love it so much

a creation that took you forever: this willie set took me a few days to make!

your creation from 2020 that received the most notes: i think it’s this howl’s moving castle gifset with around 5500~ and this anna from frozen 2 one with 5600~

a creation you think deserved more notes: look y’all this caos gifset was a struggle asdfghjk

a creation with a favorite scene/quote: this jack black jumanji one is still one of my favorite and makes me laugh every time i see it

a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: the only new fandom i joined in 2020 (and by new meaning i wasn’t a fan previously since many fandoms i started creating content for this year i’ve been fans of for years and then rewatched this year and started making content) is julie and the phantoms so here’s a set from there that i like the colors of

a creation you made that breaks your heart: this s3 gert/chase gifset never fails to make me cry (i’m also sad it didn’t get many notes :( )

a ‘simple’ creation that you really love: this murven gifset that gives me all the fucking feelings

a creation that was inspired by another one (add both your creation and the one that inspired it!): this julie/flynn set was loosely inspired by @seance‘s willex set for the round-cutout set up :)

a favorite creation created by someone else: there’s SO MANY so i’m gonna choose a couple here: gabi @lettersdeeplyworn spent days on this unsaid emily set and it still blows my mind!; @yenvengerberg’s allison set is so gorgeous i literally can’t even form words about it!; cece @nora-reid‘s rainbow set is so pretty i can’t even; @merlinemryspendragon‘s gorgeous tros rainbow set like damn the colors!! ; this breathtaking chidi/eleanor set from @will-lyra; this amazing pacific rim mako mori set from @redbelles; you can’t even compete with this rogue one set from @bbbbbbbbbbbbbbb-8 and honestly the list goes on and on

some of your favorite content creators from the year: everyone listed above obvi plus so many more than i could ever list so if i follow you or reblog from you ever...you’re my favorite creator!!! these are just the blogs i could think of as i was sitting here @anakin-skywalker @kyloren @kylos @patel-dev @padawanlost @tennant @winterswake @obi--wans @dreadwolff @samwinchesster @saraheliza @70sgifs @perfectopposite @anya-chalotra @the-maidofmischief @midnightisquiet @michaelguerrin @jackmans @labyrinth @dianaxprince @beltik @lukehan @julie-molinas @rosetico @beaucannon @dindjvrins @montygreen @gracechoi

and for good measure, another a couple more creations of yours that you love: this laura moon one bc i love her sm; this bb luke skywalker set bc he’s adorable; this chewie hugging rose set makes me smile; the spellman cousins i adore sm and i love this tiny moment between them; and we love a new 2020 ship aka daniel sousa and daisy johnson and this knee-melting moment of fake engagement undercover in the 70s

thank you so much for running through these gifsets with me! it’s been fun to see how much i’ve created this year (it was A Lot); i’m tagging anyone mentioned here or anyone who makes creations and wants to take part! share the love and support and be proud of yourselves!

#tagged in #:')#thank you this was so fun

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leighlim · 3 years

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We're with you Nyla! That is some serious chemistry going on there. Of all the pairings so far? Seems like the strongest onscreen chemistry belongs to these two!

Hopefully by this point you’ve finished all two seasons of ‘The Rookie’ (I mistakenly jumped straight to S03E04), the kind of person who isn’t bothered by spoilers, or are just deciding if you still want to keep watching.

Has Brandon Routh found his niche? Playing an antagonist (though I think Gray is the antagonist --- not as a baddie...but more the guy that forces John to be more of who he is)? Or playing someone that viewers just want to jump in the screen and tackle?

I'm not sure what happened during the break (and the production halt due to the pandemic) but I am impressed with the improved quality of the episode. The previous two seasons felt a bit...well...I'm not sure I would say all episodes were as watchable as this. Whatever they are doing right (or consultants they've brought in)...fingers crossed it would continue.

PS: Looking at Luna and Wade....it seemed like there was a significant age difference there. And...I checked (1972 & 1980)...not as much as I would have expected! Glad that they got someone age appropriate to play his wife.

PPS: Since the episodes were arranged in ascending order in Season 2 on 7 Plus...I mistakenly did not realise that I jumped to the 4th rather than head straight to #1. At least now I have an explanation why there seemed like a chunk of story missing from the Season 2 finale (John finding the cash in his house) towards the Season 3 premier. It's because I skipped three episodes!

You would have thought that I would double check the episode I was viewing...but maybe Vince Gilligan's story strategy (trusting the viewer would just go with it) was at the back of my mind and I'm trusting Alexi Hawley has my back.

--------

HIGHLIGHT:

EXT. LAPD OUTDOOR DINING AREA - DAY

JOHN and NYLA are seated at one of the tables on a break. NYLA is glued to her phone, grinning from ear-to-ear. JOHN is in observation mode, arms crossed.

Her phone receives a message and she giggles.

JOHN I didn't know you could do that.

She looks up...the smile still on her face. JOHN's eyebrow is up.

NYLA Do what?

JOHN Giggle.

The smile dissapears on her face. The stone cold TO is 80% back.

NYLA I don't giggle.

JOHN Uh-huh.

JOHN leans forward. Not breaking eye contact. Very amused with this new development.

JOHN Who are you texting?

NYLA No one.

He doesn't back down. Eyes crickling. Enjoying one of the rare moments of glimpsing his TO unguarded. More maybe trying to cover that he witnessed a very vunerable moment.

NYLA glances back at her screen, loosing the staring war.

NYLA It's just --- It's another one of the parents..

She nervously scratches a spot behind her ear.

NYLA ...that's trying to get his kid into the Academy.

JOHN lights up. Information obtained!

JOHN (enunciating) His kid. (singsong) Oh, is he single? Is he nice?

NYLA avoids eye contact.

NYLA Nope. We are not doing this.

--------

My verdict of the episode: 6/10 --- I feel like it’s one of the best from the 3 Seasons so far.

Link to the timestamp commentary: TBA

More of my thoughts about the show: I am thinking of doing a ‘The Comedy Of...’ kind of piece. Let me know if you’d like that to be pushed right at the top of my to-do list. :)

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kennyfm · 3 years

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( wolfgang novogratz & brandon routh ) bopping along to you’re gonna go far kid by the offspring is gerald kennedy , the twenty four year old cis man thrown back to their statistics days with some of his memories . voted most likely to most likely to be struck by lightning , kenny was known for being outgoing & reckless , go figures you’d always find him dragging himself to another morning practice , but grew up to be thoughtful & controlling .

FIRST PERIOD , or 2010 , the first time

raised in equal parts by a mother who deserved better and an older brother who knew better, gerald’s father was conveniently absent from his life — all he has is the last name. he’s been known to claim to be the forgotten bastard of one of the kennedys, but that's probably bullshit. there’s a name on a birth certificate somewhere. why hasn’t gerald kennedy asked to see his birth certificate? please circle the best answer: a. respect for his mother, b. the hassle, c. isn’t it better to believe in what you might be ? you can’t do that once you know, d. all of the above.

he picked up going by kenny when he started playing hockey which, thanks to an overzealous uncle attempting to be a father figure to his older sister’s kids, was pretty early. first it was kennedy, the name spelled out on the back of his jersey, but that quickly got shortened thanks to the attention spans of eight year old athletes. three syllables was clearly too much. he had never been fond of gerald, it was his grandfather’s name far more than it was his, and god forbid you call him gerry. he started introducing himself as kenny everywhere, not just at practice. it was easier.

turned out, kenny was pretty good at what he did. he played tripple a, ushl, and then wound up as a twenty one year old freshman at rvu playing ncaa. the hope was, he’d go major from there, or at least find his way to an ahl team. that was the plan. of course, plans don’t always work out.

voted most likely to get struck by lightning. the truth is, kenny isn’t all that unlucky, even if it seems like it. what he was, was someone who was rather reckless ( all that bad luck was self manufactured ). a bit of an adrenaline seeker, and decidedly someone who did before he thought, which landed him in a good number of situations that certainly seemed unlucky. he gave his coach a headache, but he was a good enough and dedicated enough player that he got kept around, albeit with a number of lectures and a few instances of community service.

[ tw. major injury ] it was the summer after graduation when things fell apart. he was in talks with an ahl team, and he was celebrating the last four years with his friends. they were at a lake. things seemed perfect. however, a jump off a rope swing gone wrong and suddenly everything had changed.

SECOND PERIOD , or 2020

[ tw. major injury, drug mention ] doctors said he was lucky, it could have been worse, but he sure as hell doesn’t feel that way. his plan and the ahl contract was tossed out the window, his back was never the same. he takes painkillers to help. and that statistics degree? the one that was just meant to get him to practice, turned into a career. he’s an actuary now, and he’s well aware of the irony.

he still goes by kenny, at least in social situations, but he’s certainly not the same kenny that rvu knew ten years ago. sure, the parts are all there ( the kid who likes to travel and who slept around is now an adult with the money to afford going places he wants but still can’t hold a relationship ) but something is different. he’s more cautious for one, and doesn’t take unnecessary risks. while he used to be able to go with the flow, be carefree, the need to control things has developed, just wanting to feel like he’s got some command over a life that turned out completely different than he expected. he’s still outgoing though, and still has the same smile.

he’s convinced himself he’s over the accident, even if there are indicators otherwise. sure, being an actuary isn’t what he planned, but it’s not a terrible job and he is able to do things he wants. he coaches a mite team a few times a week and it’s a way to connect back to his old life. he’s content.

THIRD PERIOD , or 2010 , the second time

he’s not over it, is what he realizes when he wakes back up in 2010. maybe he was content, but he wasn’t happy, was he? the issue is, while kenny can remember parts of what’s going to happen, the injury itself alludes him like a shadow in the corner of his eye. he knows it’s there, he knows good sections of what happens after, but he doesn’t remember what it was. he just knows that he has to be careful. way more careful than last time.

this means that, while others might be hoping they get to return to their lives from before, kenny is pretty sure he wants to stay here, in this version of 2010 where he has some foresight. he’s not going to get greedy, he tells himself, won’t try to change too many things. he’s just got one thing he wants to change in this new 2010.

it also means that this version of kenny is seems... well, decidedly different ( who are you and what did you do with the kid who jumped out of a second story window to break a folding table ? ). if you have none of your memories, it might seem like he had done a 180 overnight. the need for control he’s grown into over the last ten years has become a quiet paranoia, the concern that something could happen around the next corner sitting heavy on his mind.

OVERTIME , or miscellaneous details

im going to add to this when my brain is less mushy but i just wanted to !! put something up

POST GAME , or plotlines

recklationship with sunday wexler. just two kids who liked causing as much havoc as possible.

a second chance with jaqueline parker. in all the chaos of the first time, he never noticed his bio tutor the way he should have.

pseudo sister with adalia haas - foster. one of his best friends, to the point that she’s practically family.

bromance with callum chase. fellow adrenaline seekers who found a kindered spirit in each other. it’s a little bit fratty, but they mean well.

source of worry for xandra villazana. she tries to reel him in, while he trie to get her to loosen up.

repeat hookup with lea chen. he was definetly a rebound, but he wasn’t looking for anything that serious anyway.

soured friendship with alistair salazar. xx

peripheral figure with arizona gilbert. xx

#again.intro

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achlysmiseria · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1: =My First Day at a New School=

Being in a relationship with a serial killer kinda sucks. But before that, maybe I should start by introducing myself or something. I don’t know. There’s nothing special about me. My name is Perseus Alexander Moore. I’m an eighteen-year-old guy in his twelfth year and I’m distinctive in most groups but I’m not famous or rich or smart. I’m just those guys you normally see in school except I don’t exactly go as ‘normal’ since my hair is styled in an afro which makes it easy to distinguish in a group of people. This is the start of how I made the greatest mistake of my life.

Today I will be going to a new school. It had to be arranged since I moved into my older brother's place. If you’re wondering why, a big incident took place, which I have to live with my whole life but we’ll talk about that later. After changing into clothes for the day, I crept out of my room and went downstairs and the first thing I came upon was the sweet smell of pancakes and bacon filling my nose. My nose scrunched up which made me stop but not because of the smell, but because of the person right in front of me.

Eric Ulysses Moore, my big brother. He’s a successful hematologist oncologist here in this small city of Asheville, North Carolina. He’s got the same curly brown locks as mine except it’s not long or styled informally. We both look somewhat alike but since he’s blessed with our dad’s genes, who is a tall man, he has much darker skin than me and I was told he was taller than me when he was my age.

While my brother cooked breakfast and I’m standing at the kitchen door, I felt like I should just tiptoe out of there but he turned and saw me. “Good morning, Perseus,” he greeted with a smile. “Had a good night’s sleep?”

“Yeah,” I blandly replied. “I also have to go. I might be running late.”

“School doesn’t start at seven-thirty. Eat something first.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said but of course, he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. He served a plate and pointed his eyes to the vacant chair, gesturing I should sit down.

“Look,” my voice was leveled. “I don’t want to deal with you right now. I have to get going.”

“Perseus,” he called back. I ignored him and ran out the door. I brought out my earphones and plugged them in my ears, momentarily escaping from this hell called reality. I grabbed my skateboard and I skated through the busy streets.

Normally, my mom would kill me if I did this. My mind being preoccupied with the music playing, words popping up in my head for lyrics, guitar chords I could possibly use for a song I’m writing while I pass busy streets, small comments in my head about the places I pass will definitely make her want my head.

The trip would have been really quick if I hadn't had to go through so many huge groups of people hurrying to their destinations and most of them are too oblivious to notice what’s around them.

Once I reached the gates of the school, I was somehow —what’s the appropriate word— disappointed.

Right in front of me could have been a grand building but the gate alone is covered in graffiti and the paint is tearing off. The building itself looks like it’s about to collapse, given a few years or even less. You might even think it’s haunted. Students filed into the entrance and it gave me second thoughts. What if I just skipped school today? I thought it would be nice. I could just go home and go back to sleep but then, I have to deal with Eric. And to think of the possible scenarios when I enter these gates: probably new friends, or more jerks who are looking for trouble. I swallowed the anxiousness and the excitement growing in me and I walked in.

Entering the building, I felt like I was a kitten that trespassed a lions’ den. In the hallway, everybody turned their head towards me and I tried my best to stay passive.

Luckily, when I got enrolled here, they gave me my schedule and the room numbers so I didn’t have to ask around. I reached the room for my first class, which is Conservatory of Music. Then I noticed there was this note taped on the glass window of the door. It said: Class will be in the Music Room. I raised an eyebrow. Music Room, I thought. I looked down at the paper I had in my hand and scanned it. It didn’t have any directions for the room. I buried the annoyance that’s building up in me and looked around just in case no one could see how stupid I look and with my luck, I found three guys walking in my direction. The guy on the right had copper-red hair, freckles across his cheeks and nose, and a mischievous grin on his face and is probably one of the people I will never trust my life with when handling matches or sharp objects. The one on the middle had emo/scene slick black hair and it was long on one side so it hid his face. He looked reserved at first glance since he had his head lowered and even if his friend on the right had his arm locked on his neck, he didn’t complain. The one on the left took me aback. I was looking at a much younger clone of Brandon Routh when he played Clark Kent or Superman. He’s this tall guy with glasses, shiny black hair swept to the side, and a jacket. His facial features are almost perfect and I don’t think his face is familiar to acne or a single pimple. The guy on the right saw me. His hazel-green eyes shone and his grin widened. “Hey,” he waved. “You must be new.”

“I am,” I had to keep a straight face. The redhead kept smiling but when he faced the note on the door, he frowned. “Damn,” he snapped his fingers. He faced his friend and yelled to them, “Upstairs, guys. Prof switched rooms.”

“I told you he would,” said the guy with the glasses. The ginger raised his hands in defeat but still cracked a smirk. “At least we found this guy,” he gestured his hands to me. “If we didn’t think to check this room, he would be late than we already were.”

“Yeah, yeah shut up, Michael.” The other two faced me and studied me from head to toe. Superman said, “You were lucky. This campus is huge.”

“That’s what she said,” the guy named Michael snorted, which earned him a smack on the back of the head, “You’re so mean, Xavier.”

“And you’re being an idiot,” replied Xavier, who had a more Asian look than everybody else I've seen.

I felt inept. I’m standing in the middle of a playful conversation of strangers I just met and they didn’t really mind me there. Or how late we were.

“Hey,” I spoke up. “Aren’t we supposed to get to class?” The three of them stared at each other then realized it with a start. Some of them cursed and then we ran to the Music Room.

Fortunately, we reached class before the professor arrived. The place was huge and I think we were more than fifty students here. We were going to be seated on the floor and our bags were piled onto each other at the back. But what’s enticing are the instruments in front of us. I was tempted to grab a guitar and run but the professor finally entered the room. Before I could look around for a place to sit, someone already grabbed my hand and pulled me down.

“Sorry,” said Clark Kent. “I didn’t get to introduce myself. I’m Nicholas Taylor but call me Nick.”

“I’m Perseus Moore,” we held out each other’s hand and shook it. Behind Nick, Michael’s head popped out and he beamed. “I’m Michael Johnathan Carter. Most people call me Michael or Mike. You pick. I don’t care.” We shook hands and I faced their other friend.

“I’m Xavier Hernandez,” he said politely. “It’s nice to meet you, Perseus.”

“Yeah,” I tried to smile. They seem nice, I thought to myself. We started talking in our small circle and then Nick asked, “Do you play any instruments?”

“I play guitar,” I replied. Michael’s grin got even wider if that was possible and then he scooted near me. “What songs can you play?”

“Erm,” I moved a bit farther from him but I was saved when the professor got our attention. He’s a guy that looked like he was supposed to go to a Rock concert but got lost and ended up in a classroom full of teenagers. Instead of the usual teachers’ uniform, he wore this black band shirt of Korn, had a few piercings on his lips and eyebrow, plus tattoos all over his arms. “Good morning class,” he greeted. I thought we would respond with the habitual bland greeting but the place roared with excitement. Everyone was just yelling at the top of their lungs so the teacher had to silence us. “After a summer break, you all are still very loud.”

“We love you, Sir Ramirez!” Michael yelled and it just ignited another round of cheers. Again, we were silenced but I’m surprised one finger from the teacher made everyone quiet.

“I am also glad to see you all again. Most of you have moved up which is great,” Sir Ramirez congratulated us. “I was also informed that we have a new student joining us. Where is he?”

I just sat there, not planning to do anything for anyone to catch my attention but Michael grabbed my arm and raised it for me. Quickly, I yanked it away and glared at him. “Thank you, Michael. Now, please come up front.” The first thing I thought was, What is this? Grade school? But I obeyed and walked over to his side. “Introduce yourself.”

“Hi,” I started, I could feel my palms starting to sweat. “I’m Perseus Moore.”

“Do you play any instruments, Perseus, or are you just here to learn a thing or two?”

“I can play.”

“Awesome,” Sir Ramirez clapped his hands. Everyone started muttering to themselves and I didn’t like it at first until the prof asked, “What instrument do you play?”

“Guitar, sir.”

He smiled and walked over to the corner where the pile of goodies are and picked up a maroon Gibson SG then handed it over. My eyes widened at the guitar and I looked up at him for confirmation. “Give us a show, Perseus.” He signaled me to start and with barely any practice for the past month, I played Thunderstruck by AC/DC. The students went wild and I think everyone on this floor, and possibly the one under and the one above us, could hear them singing the song.

Sir Ramirez raised his hand to stop me in the middle of the song and I did. Everyone had this look on their faces which I can’t comprehend and my heart was pounding against my ribs. “So,” the professor starts. There wasn’t that much emotion shown on his face and I wasn’t comfortable with that. “I can’t tell you how much I’m impressed.”

“You are?” I blinked. “I mean, thank you, sir.”

“Of course I am. It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone with this much grit and how much the whole class enjoyed it.” Then everyone started screaming like their favorite basketball team won. Makes me wonder how their voices haven’t cracked yet. I would never last that long. When they settled, Sir Ramirez clapped his hands and everyone joined him. With an awkward smile and my pulse beating in my throat, I bowed. Nick and the others cheered and they were joined by everyone else. When I got back to my seat, class started and at that point, I happily thought that this was going so well so far. Boy, was I wrong.

After three classes, it was finally our Lunch Break. I hated the other classes since the teachers after Conservatory were snobby, nosy, and irritating as hell. They lose their cool easily. I’m only grateful that Nick, Michael, and Xavier will be in the same classes as me since they’re the only people I know.

While we were walking to the cafeteria, Nick said, “You were great back there.”

“Thanks,” I tried to sound more confident than I am.

“Wanna join our band?” Michael smiled. “We’re missing a lead guitarist. And you don’t seem to be part of anything yet.”

“You’re recruiting me?”

“Of course,” he placed his hand on my shoulder. “We’ve been talking about it. You in? Please say you are.”

“Stop that, Michael,” Xavier spoke up. “You know we have to talk to Morpheus first about this.”

“Who?” I turned to him.

“He’s our band leader and frontman,” Nick replied. “The guy’s awesome and super chill. He would love to meet you. But we need to know if you want to join us as well or otherwise, he’d think that we forced you to.” Then I heard Michael comment, “What is this? A cult?” Xavier flicked his fingers in the middle of his friend’s forehead and it made a sound, probably shaking his skull. Watching them alone, being whoever they are, saying whatever they want and their closeness to each other makes me think about their offer. I faced Nick who had an expectant look on his face. “I’m in.”

We reached the school’s outdoor covered court. It’s after passing the cafeteria. I’m telling you now that this is the only place that’s pleasant in the whole school. Instead of seeing trash littered everywhere, the court was clean and there were trees aligned on the side of it. Under one of the trees, there was this Blond holding an acoustic guitar. Michael ran to him and gave him a tackle-hug.

“What the hell, Michael?” He exclaimed as the others just laughed out loud. They sat up again and the redhead tugged on the guy’s sleeve. “We found a lead guitarist, Morph.”

“Hi?” I waved. The Morpheus guy studied me with his sky blue eyes and frowned a bit. He stood up and I realized he’s way taller than Nick which only made me anxious about my height. Gee, thanks. He circled me, like a lion studying its helpless prey. Morpheus turned to his bandmates and asked why I should be in the band. They explained it to him with enthusiasm while I just stood there not even getting why he’s asking them instead of me.

“So,” the tall blond turned to me. “I see that you got yourself some fans now.” Looking over his shoulder, Nick and Michael had huge grins on their faces, excitedly waving their hands while Xavier is also smiling but not like the other two. My eyes went back to Morpheus and I shrugged. “I never meant to. They just asked me to play.”

“Can you perform in front of something bigger than a bunch of students in one room?”

I could’ve answered him with an eager ‘Yes’ but in the pit of my stomach, my anxiety starts poking me. Morpheus patiently waited for my answer while I thought, A bigger crowd? That would be awesome but if I’m not good enough… Then what? I mentally slapped myself in the face. I looked up to him and said, “Even if it doesn’t take me anywhere, I can.”

Morpheus gave that a thought which lasted longer than I wanted to. My friends had their fingers crossed and I quietly hoped I would get accepted. Morpheus’ lips slowly curled into a smile and happily said, “You’re in.” Then they started clapping their hands. Michael locked his arm around my neck and yelled, “Finally! Someone decent enough to play for our band.” That comment got him a smack on the head and he just laughed it off. Xavier ruffled my curly hair and spread his arms out. “Welcome aboard Erebos.”

“Erebos?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah,” Nick said. “A friend named the band. She said that it’s the name of the primordial darkness in Greek mythology or something like that.”

Just then, their faces lightened up. I followed wherever they were looking at and found something I wasn’t expecting. Walking towards us was a girl with straight hair as dark as midnight, autumn tanned skin and she had a gray jacket wrapped around her waist since the school uniform for girls had short skirts. Michael ran over to her and held his hand out for a high-five. “Hey, Babycakes!”

Babycakes?

She scowled and pointed a finger at him. “How many times do I have to tell you to never call me that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Michael tries to imitate her British accent. “Did I touch a nerve?”

“You always do.” She crossed her arms and her eyes found me. I flinched, probably because I’ve been staring at her for too long, looking stupid, and got caught. Nick saved me though. He placed a hand on my shoulder and told the girl, “I’d like to introduce you to our new lead guitarist, Perseus Moore!”

“Perseus?” She raised an eyebrow. She studied me from head to toe and as I watched her, I noticed her eyes were gray. They remind me of fierce storm clouds or bones when reduced to ash. My heart started thundering against my chest when her eyes met my golden brown ones. She then looked up at my hair and asked, “Is that natural or are you just looking for attention?”

“What?”

“Your hair. And your eyes? You’re not wearing contacts, are you?”

“I could say the same to you,” I commented. A shadow of irritation passed over her face and then I realized my mistake. Morpheus cleared his throat and got her attention. “You’re not going to tear his face off, are you, Kass?” Xavier spoke up. She faced him and cracked a smirk, leaving me wanting to melt into a puddle for some reason. “I don’t have a reason to,” she faced me and held out her hand. “I’m Kassandra Cyrillus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I shook her hand. “I could say the same thing.”

“Not when you really know what you’re talking to,” I heard her mutter. That took me aback. What is she talking about? I faced Nick who looked somewhat nervous when she said that and when I looked back at Kassandra, she still had the same expression except I recognized the look on her face. Like, she had the face of someone who got away with murder which is stupid because that’s impossible. Or was it?

“Now, now, Kassandra,” Michael interrupted my train of thought. “Stop scaring away the new guy.” She gave him a look which made him raise his hands in defeat and then she faced me. “You all have the same subjects later on, right?”

“Yeah,” we replied in unison. She didn’t give any reaction but handed Morph a bag. “I’ll see you all later then,” she looks over her shoulder a bit and walks away. When she was finally out of our sight, I turned to my bandmates who were looking at the bag. When they opened it, it was filled with snacks and a big pack of potato chips. They all had an evil grin on their faces and they closed the bag again. “It’s cool how she could smuggle some junk food here in school.”

“She must’ve paid the school guard to let her in,” Nick joked. My eyebrows arched. The image of Kassandra burned in the back of my mind and I can’t help notice how she looked so innocently malevolent. Two words I never thought would fit together. Morpheus saw how confused I was and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You look lost.”

“I don’t understand how things go around here,” I said with genuine honesty. “Is it just me or is Kassandra plotting something evil?” They looked at each other which is concerning for me like it’s a tough subject they don’t want to tackle. “Did I say something wrong?”

Nick snaked his arm around my shoulder. “Nah, dude. It’s just that, Kassandra had this reputation here at school, so it tends to make her judge and mistrust people she meets at first glance. Be a little patient with her. She’s actually a great person to be with,” he smiled. With that, the school bell rings for our upcoming classes. We walked to our classroom and went on with our day.

Finally, school was about to end. I just had to end this last class: Literature. My bandmates were left behind since they said they needed to talk to our Math teacher. When I reached the door of the classroom, I expected a bunch of students sticking their noses in books but instead, I found most of my classmates were off their seats, just being chaotic as usual.

“You’ll get used to it,” said a familiar voice behind me. When I turned around, I found Kassandra. She had a black backpack slung on one shoulder and the strap had a metal pin of a badly drawn smiley face with X’s for eyes and it had its tongue stuck out, the logo of the Grunge band Nirvana. “Nice pin,” I complimented. “Somehow matches your personality.”

“Don’t flatter me, Perseus,” her voice laced with bitter sarcasm. “And if you want small talk, I suggest we go inside and sit down. Unless you want to block the door, I’m not joining you.”

I stepped aside and let her in first and muttered, “Sorry.” Following her to the back of the classroom, I sat on the vacant chair beside her. There were more vacant seats other than this but I just felt like I needed to sit next to somebody I at least know if I get called. Now and then, I would steal glances of her just to see her doodling on her notebook. Well, I just think she’s doodling. The first thing that caught my attention was that she’s writing in Greek? Second thing I noticed were the symbols Aδης. What do they mean? Like I know. I wanted to ask her but everyone started to make a commotion when Michael entered the room.

Kassandra let out a soft laugh when she saw her friend being flirty with the girls who were head over heels for him. “Always a tosser,” she muttered and closed her notebook. “Then these girls would fall for every banter. Can you believe that?”

I realized she was talking to me so I answered, “Er, yeah. They’re being a little too extra.”

“Michael’s always extra,” she shrugs. I then noticed her lips were curled up into a small smile and I kind of felt good about that. She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” I looked in the other direction. When they were seated, the professor entered the room. He’s a pudgy man with a scowl on his face and has more hair on his chin than on his head. I could hear a lot of the students around us snickering and then they all burst out laughing when the teacher sat on his seat. Confused, he tries standing up and then realizes the problem. “You insufferable brats!” He yelled at us. When he tried to walk out of his desk, everyone was laughing except for me and Kassandra since the chair was stuck to the man’s rear-end. I mean, it’s literally glued to his butt. Honestly, it’s an old trick in the book but I think getting someone to do it right in front of you makes it funny. He started yelling things I don’t think would get him a promotion, or probably let him keep his job. Nonetheless, we continued class while the professor was seated, and ever so often, you will hear giggles when he tries standing up.

“Now,” he pats a stack of papers on his desk. “This will be your homework for two weeks. Read it carefully and I don’t want anyone submitting anything stupid, understood?”

Everyone jeered and groaned. Kassandra and I stayed silent then I glanced at her just to find her reading a book under her desk. As the papers were being distributed, the professor said, “You all will be partnered” —everyone cheered— “by the person beside you.” The excitement died and it just made him smile smugly. The school bell rang for dismissal and everyone quickly raced to the door.

“Wait,” I looked at my seatmate. “Who am I partnered with?” We stared at each other. It seemed like time suddenly stopped for some reason. Our eyes locked and I don’t know how, but I could see this shadow behind her gray orbs. What could it be? A weird gut feeling tells me that this person in front of me was someone… someone who you shouldn’t get on their bad side or you’re screwed. Kassandra smiled and answered, “I suppose you’re stuck with me, Phrixus.”

#=PLMR=#original story #chapter 1 #novel series #novel #romance #music #greek mythology #angst #teen author #rock music #book 1 #band mentions #author #2000s feels

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superrouth · 2 months

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2006 Empire Award for Best Male Newcomer: Brandon Routh

#brandon routh #superman returns #empire awards #smile #brandon routh smile

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

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Memories of Misdeed

Sequel to Marriage of Inconvenience and Acts of Atonement

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, marital discord/neglect, cheating, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your marriage appears to be on the mend, but there are memories you can’t escape.(Regency AU)

Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne

And here’s the unexpected sequel.

Love you all like Humpty Dumpty love falling off walls. Take care. 💖

You wake to a gentle peck upon your forehead. At first, the bliss is surreal, as if you've dreamt it all. And how could it be anything more than the delirium of your desires, the years of yearning bubbling over at last.

It's very real. You know it as your lashes flutter and you caress the firm muscle of his shoulder, a tremble flowing through him in response. He places another kiss more firmly, that time on your lips.

You watch him, paralysed in disbelief. Certain that if you move that it will all fade into nothingness.

"Good morning, wife," Bruce hums before reluctantly drawing away.

You echo the sentiment as he sits up and turns his legs over the edge of the bed, his back to you. In the night, he shed the linen shirt and you can't help but admire the nakedness of his back, his shoulder blades, and the line of his long spine.

He pushes his dark hair back. You notice how it curls at the ends. You never would otherwise as he always keeps it combed and parted neatly. You roll onto your side and sigh in resignation. That it must end, that it is over.

"Dear wife," he speaks to the floor as he fishes up his shirt from a heap, "let us not languish in sloth, we have a fine day ahead of us."

You hug the eider and sit up, hiding beneath the feather-filled blanket. He pulls the wrinkled shirt over his head and stands. You chew your lip in dread.

"You've business?" You wonder.

"Not as I would see it," he bends and takes his trousers next, "I've arranged a day out for us but you mustn't ask any more questions."

"A day out?" Your heart leaps.

He looks at you, what could be a smirk crooks his lips, and he shrugs as he buttons his pants.

"What I require of you is merely your presence," he gathers up his shoes and socks and carries them in one arm, "and you might consider a good cloak, something fit for the season."

Your lips fall apart. You almost giggle as giddiness overrides your doubts. That he meant it all, that it wasn't a fleeting moment of need, overwhelms you. You clamp your mouth shut as your cheek twitches. Oh, how you could cry.

"How the staff will titter," he shakes his head as he reviews himself in your vanity, "let them, they do lack any fitting excitement."

His good humour puts you off but does not displease you. It is only that flicker of guilt that spoils your excitement. The slow recollection of your shame, that you might have a good husband even as you've tainted your own duty.

He drapes his jacket over his arm and bows his head, "my lady wife, I expect at the top of the hour, ready for our excursion."

You smile at him, it is both genuine and forced. You want to bask in his kindness before it must inevitably end for that sense of foreboding will not relent.

"You may expect me, sir," you assure him and he puffs up his chest before turning on his heel.

You wait for him to go before you fall back, a rushing of air coming from beneath you in your careless descent. You cringe at the ceiling but are quickly overcome as his scent clings to your bedding. You roll over and smell him, pretending he is still there, holding you. You still cannot fathom that he remained the whole night.

It is some time before you can summon yourself form your daydreams. You are only coerced from your fancy as a short rap comes at the door. You find your shift tangled with the bed linens and pull it on as you call for entrance. Ester shyly peeks around the door as she opens it.

"Madam," she greets coyly.

"Do not give me that look, Ester," you warn her as you cross to your vanity.

"What look, miss?" She asks playfully.

You shake your head and huff as you go to your wardrobe, pulling open the painted doors to peruse the contents. There are many dresses you neglected, opting instead for the more practical cottons and linens when tending the house. That day, you think you might choose something more elaborate.

"Your lord husband did not return to his bedchamber last night," Ester comes up beside you.

"Es," you bat your lashes in feigned affront, "do not be crass."

"I see it, in you're beaming, miss, and it is about time--"

"I need to ready myself, Ester," you interrupt her, trying not to get carried away yourself, "and likely I should have a nibble before I depart."

"Where are you going, miss?" Her eyes follow your hand as you run it down the length of white gauze laid over silk dyed the colour of robin's eggs.

"I do not know," you confess and smile again.

"Is it with the master?" She asks hopefully.

You look at her and nod. She shakes with enthusiasm and grabs your hands. "Oh, lady, that is wonderful."

You hush her and squeeze her hands, "I do not want to spoil it, nor be too elated," you gird, "I still feel... as if we are newlywed, close to strangers even. I fear this will not last."

"Lady, do not let the past trouble you, you must embrace what is to be," Ester says, "oh, Alfred did say he thought the master was changed."

"Do not tease," you plead.

"I do not," she avows, "he said it as he lit his pipe in the courtyard last night... while you and your lord husband were renewing your vows."

"Oh, you are naughty," you chide her as you spin away, "let us not tarry on last eve, I must choose a bonnet."

💔

You shiver in the open carriage, the fog slowly retreating as it carpets the dewy grasses as the frost melts away. Autumn has come and winter will not be far behind. You rub your lambskin gloves together as you try to warm yourself, a chatter in your teeth.

You're surprised as another hand, larger, covers yours, and drags it away from your lap. Bruce turns slightly to take your other hand, cradling them in his as he tries to rub heat into them. You let him and nestle in closer to him.

"Perhaps I should've called for the other vehicle," he mulls, "but the day is beautiful, soon enough the snow will have us hiding for long."

"I will not complain, you are right, it is very beautiful," you assure him, "I fear the gardens will not last much longer as it gets colder."

He hums in agreement and takes one hand away to slide his arm around you. He holds you close as you sway with the motion of the carriage, against him, embraced by him. You just cannot believe this isn't some scene in those romantic novellas you secreted away from your mother's library as a girl.

You watch the last of the pinkish purple hues dwindle over the horizon, the horses' cantor clomping through the tweet of birds and rustle of grasses. The winding dusty trail leads out into sprawling fields, the speckled shapes of manor houses standing at a distances. For so long as you've been there, you've never seen Wayne Estates in this light.

"Are you well?" He asks as you lean your head on his shoulder carelessly.

"I--" you go to pull away from him, recalling yourself, but he keeps you there, his arm hooking tighter around you, "I am very well, sir, only thinking."

"May I ask of what?" He ventures.

You're quiet. You don't know what to say. You cannot tell him the truth for fear of hurting him. That you were thinking of the mournful before, of the cold man who now sits warmly beside you. Of the fear that he might cool again.

"Well, then," he fills the silence, "might I say what I am thinking of, lady?"

"You may," you permit as his thumb runs across your knuckles, pressing between each as if to make certain you are truly in his grasp.

"I think of the fool I was. Of the apologies I never made to you and that the one I did deliver can never be enough to make up for my neglect. Of how fortunate I am now to have you, that you did not flee from the frigid old man you took as a husband," he explains, his other hand caress your side through your cloak, "that I took you for granted and could not bear to do so again. That if I did ever lose you, that I would be trapped in the darkness once more."

Your tear trickle hotly down your cheek, surprising you as it falls onto his jacket. You wiggle your nose and slip your hand free to swipe away the wetness. His hand brushes up and he grips your shoulder as he lets you sit up. You curl your shoulders as you try to hide the sudden rush.

"I've upset you," his hand moves along the top of your back, "I apologise--"

"Please don't, it is only that--" That I have already tossed this into the dirt, that I've ruined it already. I am unfaithful and unworthy. You gulp, you can't make the words come, so you lie instead, though it is not entirely untrue, "I suppose I am overcome. That I thought... the worst of things."

"Which is my fault," he insists.

"Please, do not say that," you cling to his hand, "please don't. Can we just forget? Can we try to be happy, with each other? Can't I be your wife and you my husband?"

He inhales and lifts your hand, petting it before kissing it gently, "that is all I could ever want, blossom."

You laugh as the tears dry up and crinkle your nose at him, "blossom?"

"Yes, I think it suits you," he pulls you close again, holding you with both arms, nuzzling into the trim of your cloak, "though no flower can compare."

"Now, you mock me, sir," you trill and sniff back the last of your grief.

"No, I only make a fool of myself," he confesses and his lips tickle your neck, pulling another giggle from you, "and I should gladly be your fool."

💔

Your hypnotic observation of the seasonal shift is disturbed by the sudden rattle of wheels up the long drive of Wayne Manor. You knew it could not last. Happiness is as fleeting as those leaves blowing down from the branches, piling in heaps around the yard, as the petals wilt from stems with the approach of winter.

The carriage is familiar, unsettlingly so, and you let the curtain hang straight as you hide behind it. You do not call for your husband, he will hardly be happy for this visitor, no more so than you.

You turn against the wall and heave as you hear Alfred greet the guest. Lord Kent's boisterous voice rises in the air and makes you quake. Somehow you believed you wouldn't see him again. That you truly could forget.

You push away from the wall and check the pin in your hair, then let your hands wander down your dress. You are presentable but you wish you were invisible. There's a flurry outside and you hear the study door creak on its hingers. Your husband appears and you muster a smile.

"What on earth is he doing here?" Bruce frowns.

In those weeks since he let down his guard, you are still surprised by his moments of naked honesty. His chagrin can be as endearing as his delight. You shake your head but your cannot voice your own confusion.

He wears no jacket, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his collar unbuttoned above his vest. A strand of dark hair dangles down his forehead and he flicks it away in irritation. He sends you a look, almost as if he's looking for direction, then his dark eyes steady and his mask falls into place.

He leaves you for a moment, returning as he fixes his sleeves and pulls on his jacket. You go to him, restless, and button his collar as he thanks you. He gives pause as you listen to the approach without and he stares at you.

"You always are so immaculate," he praises, "and I, your mess of a husband."

"It is fine," you quaver as you pat his chest, a gesture of comfort for you both. He tilts his head slightly.

"Are you well?" He touches your elbow.

"Yes," you lie and draw away from him, "as you, I did not expect company."

He grips your arm lightly and then releases you, facing the door as if facing a charging adversary. The doors are pulled open as Alfred leads in Lord Kent and you fold your hands as you lift your chin. His eyes twinkle as they meet yours first then slowly travel to Bruce.

"Ah, there he is," Kent booms, "and he is not hiding behind some book."

"You make a habit of spontaneity," Bruce rebuffs, "tell me, Kent, what brings you this day?"

"Might I visit an old friend?" Kent taunts, "but let me not forget etiquette," he bows his head then nears you, "my lady, you look wonderful. Alight with the spirit of the new season, though you must miss the summer."

He offers his hand cordially and you let him kiss your glove. You glance at Bruce as he rolls his dark eyes and taps his leather shoe.

"Has your wife not returned from her reprieve? The child must be of age to travel," your husband suggests.

"Blessed as the child is, my wife does languish with the cold, the physician recommends she remain in the warmer climate until the new year," Kent mourns but there is something spurious to his tone, "let me be honest and blame my loneliness for this unannounced arrival. The yule approaches quickly and business does restrain me from going to my sickly wife or my newborn son."

"How unfortunate," you say above your husband's nearly bitter silence, "we will be certain to send some tiding to Lady Kent and the boy. There is a carrier who travels that way, though he may be too late for Yule."

"That is kind of you, lady, I am certain my wife would enjoy the gesture," he bends his arm and curls his fingers around his lapel, "Lord Wayne, how long has it been? We've hardly caught sight of you at The House."

"I am there when required," your husband replies brusquely, "I daresay, I hear you appear more at balls than you do the floor."

"As stringent as ever, I see," Kent chuckles, "lady, pray tell me, where do you get the strength for this man, as tempestuous as any winter's day."

"You will speak to my wife with courtesy, sir. If you must be a buffoon, than you will address me," Bruce insists.

"I jape, sir," Kent counters in a similarly sharp tone, "a lady does well with some humour in her life."

"A lady is provided all she needs," Lord Wayne takes a step forward, "she has chores to do without you as one. Let us retire to my study so we may spare her further disturbance."

"Ah, Wayne," Kent derides coyly, "you do know how to delight a woman, yes? A diligent husband, I'm sure–"

"Did you come to discuss my marriage or matters of business? For I do not believe the former to be of your concern," Bruce warns curtly.

"Business, of course," Kent presents his hands in a defensive motion, "allow me to shed this coat and we will proceed."

Your guest turns and Alfred assists in taking his coat. Bruce crosses to you and touches your arm softly, leaning in to kiss your temple, "I suspect supper is in order," he whispers before he retreats. You don't miss how Kent takes note of the gesture over his shoulder.

"Now, now," Kent claps his hands, "get your ledger, man, we have much to sort out."

💔

The dinner set is simple. A course of salmon and scallions, followed by spiced hair and sweetbread, with a soup cooked from asparagus. A bottle of claret followed the light fruit wine dug up from the cellar, and pudding was to be black tea with serving of trifle, newly put together by Emma amid her complaints of her harried labour.

You add coarse sugar to you cup and stir with the tiny silver spoon. You've not much of appetite. Without the distraction of preparing the meal, you have no choice but to focus on your unwanted visitor and the grey cloud he's brought with him.

Kent reminds you of before. Of the man who was your husband for two years, reborn as the doting partner across from you. And of the carriage, that night at the fair and all those feelings you fought to repress. You feel him in that moment, between your legs, crushing you, corrupting you.

His grin suggests he also recalls the night. He sips and does little to hide his flagrant leer. Bruce doesn't notice as he pokes the thin layer of sponge with his fork, not acknowledging much else than his plate. He is tired of his guest and so are you.

"I know the invitation is likely extended futilely but I was speaking with the king, he is planning the entertainment for his yule ball, and perhaps you might bring your lady wife. It is to be a marvelous affair, seeing as I have a hand in it," Kent announces proudly, "I'm certain she is once more desperate to see beyond these walls."

You don't say anything, waiting instead on your husband's response. You will not beg as you had before. If you were to ask for anything it would be to stay, to hide away from the machinations of this man. Bruce tastes the sponge and makes a face at it's sweetness.

"I shall take her," Bruce replies, a glimmer of surprise in Kent's eyes reflects your own, "I too have spoken to the king. No doubt our conversations are a mite more productive. It is from my country house that the quail is being hunted for the event."

"Oh?" Kent raises his brows, "I've never known you to be very festive."

"You only know what I want you to know of me," Bruce retorts, "it is a pity your own wife will not accompany you."

"Yes, as ever, I feel her absence greatly," Kent's smirk flickers, "maybe you will allow me a dance on your wife's card, to make up for it."

"Maybe my wife might allow it, so you might ask her," the answer once more receives a stunned wince.

Clark clears his throat and inhales, looking at you pointedly, "lady?"

"Perhaps if there is time in the night," you say, "but we cannot say so soon how it should transpire."

Bruce's lip twitches, as if he might grin. Your evasion is as good as denial. He turns his fork and scoops up some jelly and custard in one bite. He tastes it with a hum.

"Do you not like the dessert?" Your husband asks as he licks his lips.

"It is very sweet," Kent sits back and prods the trifle, "lady, is this your recipe?"

"Emma, the cook," you assure him, "I am more able at bread."

"Ah," he nods thoughtfully and takes a mouthful. You mimic him, looking at the wall and wishing for it to be over.

You eat in silence for a time, forks scraping, cups clinking. None know how to proceed or go back. You lay down the silver and wipe your fingers.

"Shall I arrange the den for a glass of port?" You wonder, "that you gentlemen might retire there as I see to the table?"

"That would do well," your husband bows his head, "thank you, lady."

You stand and dip your head formally. You leave them as you go to fetch the staff. You let out a breath, as if a weight has lifted from over you.

You fall into your role, the lady of the house, and give your orders to have the dining room cleared and tidied, as the den is readied. You're swept up in the simple purpose, stopping only to secret away a biscuit from Emma's cooling trays.

When you pass through the dining room again, it is empty, servants gathering up scraps and saucers. You carry on into the foyer and along the side of the wide staircase towards the sunroom. You will read there until it is time to bid your husband good night. You hope by then that his guest is gone.

You take the book of poetry, the one you've read over and again, hearing the odes in the voice of your husband as he recited them that day in the grass. You try to calm yourself with the familiar verses as you recline on the settee.

Ester appears to inquire after your needs. You want only to be alone, you assure her. She leaves and you sit up, restless. You place the book down and rise, pacing along the tall row of windows as you peer out onto the frosted courtyard.

You stop and press your palm to the cold glass, letting it seep into you. The whistling winds shake the panes and flow through your veins. You close your eyes, frozen to the spot.

A warm hand closes around your arm, shaking you from your trance. You gasp and turn, expecting Bruce but faced with Kent. You peek past him, or try to, searching for your husband who cannot be far.

"There you are," he says as his hand crawls up to your shoulder, "I'm sorry I've not been around, you understand how men can be consumed in their business."

"What--" you grab his hand, "you cannot be here."

"Have you missed me?" He purrs.

"Lord Kent, please, this is inappropriate--"

"He's changed, isn't he?" He waves away your grasp and grabs your chin, the winter wraps around you as it creeps in from the windows, "has he taken to your bed then? Like a proper husband?"

"Leave me be," you try to shove him away and his hand wraps around your neck, urging you back against the icy glass.

"Tell me, it cannot be as we were. It must be as rigid as his spine, yes? A duty served but hardly a woman pleased--"

"You speak uncouthly, sir, and you will not persist--"

"Does he know of us? Did you tell him before you let him between your legs? Does he know I was there first?"

You hit his chest in appall. His hand tightens around your neck as you try to holler, squeezing your voice to a mere whimper. He feels along your bodice as he looms over you, "no, you couldn't say it. Not to him. He'd have you out on the street."

You gulp and tug on his lapel helplessly. His fingers dance down your stomach and he curls them slowly, gathering up the length of your skirts. Inch by inch so the cold air wafts under and pricks bumps across your skin. You shiver and grip his wrist, trying to shake him away from you.

"Shall I remind you of his impotence?" He snarls as his breath scalds your face, "shall I fuck you beneath his own hearth and--"

He lets you go suddenly, a hollow thump across his back. Kent staggers as he turns to face his accoster, another strike from the silver shovel meant for the ashes in the fireplace across his jaw. Bruce kicks him so he falls over, landing on his ass as he knocks over a small round table in his descent.

Your husband points the silver edge at Kent's face as he places his sole against his chest. He breathes furiously, anger surging red in his cheeks.

"You dare touch my wife?"

"Someone must," Kent scoffs and spits up blood, his teeth shining red as he smiles boldly.

"I should beat you to death on my own carpet," Bruce growls and leans his weight onto Kent's ribs, raising the shovel as if to hit him once more.

You quake as horror swells over and push away from the windows. You stop your husband as your eyes glisten. You put your hand above his on the slender silver handle and touch his arm.

"Husband," you coax, "let him go. Banish him from this house but do not hurt him further."

"He--" Bruce huffs, "he was-- how am I to let him walk out of here?"

"Because, husband," you sniff as you force out the words, "I must confess my sins to you."

"Sins?" He blusters in confusion, dragging his foot off of Kent. The man on the floor laughs madly from below.

"Of how I've betrayed you," you say as the tears spill over, "I do not deserve to be your wife."

#clark kent #bruce wayne #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #bruce wayne x reader #clark kent x reader #regency au #acts of atonement #marriage of inconvenience #sequel #series #dc #dcu #au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic

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dagenspear · 3 years

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Crisis On Infinite Earths Outline Fix, Part 2

Like some I disliked the crossover, it's the worst out of all of them, and this is my preference for it to be done. This one is the first of the more aggressive changes to the crossover. Here are the ideas God blessed me with:

In the opening of the episode, Oliver wakes up on Lian Yu, then searching it, seeing visual reminders of his losses from the past, then being confronted by the Spectre, a green cloaked, shrouded figure, who quickly defeats Oliver and pins him to the ground, telling him his destiny is finally upon him.

This part has a bit more going on, so I'll explain in lettered plots:

A. This is a Batwoman episode, so like Kara was more or less the focus before, she's the focus here. The main structure and this bleeds into the B plot, is that the Monitor is dead now and the crisis is sill happening and they want to help other earths try and prevent E2's and Supergirl Earth's destruction for themselves. This plot is much more involved here. Using Pariah, someone who can sense the destruction of an Earth, sets their breach devices by a signal that'll send them to an earth by how close it is to being hit by the antimatter, taking them to the place where that might originate. Kate does this, but not before being found by E-1 Bruce, played by David Giuntoli, whose come due to the end of world type situation that's unraveling. We will expand on why this Bruce left. When Jason Todd was murdered, he became bitter and filled with rage and in this fit he hunted down the Joker and nearly killed him. Seeing himself as no longer fit to be Batman, he left, but this situation is dire enough to convince him to step back up. He and Kate travel to a few earths to warn those earths of the crisis, going to Gotham first. The First is Birds Of Prey TV Series Earth 109, where she meets Helena Kyle, played by Ashley Scott, and Dinah Lance, played by Rachel Skarsten, and with a vocal cameo by Oracle, played by Dina Meyer. Bruce is distraught at the idea of an earth where he's had a daughter. Kate is taken aback by Dinah's appearance, and doesn't know how to deal with it, but pushes through to find out where Batman is, thinking he may be able to help. Earth 109's Batman is Kevin Conroy Bruce, a bitter, angry and alone Bruce whose lost almost everything in his life. Alfred, Jason, Damien his son, Selina and Kate. Here we delve into why he left Helena and Gotham, seeing himself and Batman as nothing but an bringer of pain and death of all that he cares about. He's angry at Helena for her staying as a vigilante, thinking it will only bring to her what it's brought to him, that and his fear of bringing his family pain driving him to stay away. KC Bruce relents when he hears about the crisis, but it's too late and the anti-matter sweeps in, taking out Gotham, Helena with it, as Kate uses a breach device to take her, E1 Bruce and KC Bruce out of there. KC Bruce is devastated at this, but regroups out of a desire for revenge against what's done this. Kate realizes the breach device took them to Gotham TV Series Earth 14, met with Bruce Wayne, played by David Mazouz. They explain the situation to him, he's shocked, but grasps the importance of the situation and offers to help, him being dismissed due to his age and lack of experience. He protests this, but is met with the other Bruces viewing him as naive, citing their losses and how he doesn't understand the cost of being Batman, DM Bruce angrily snapping back that they've failed the city their parents wanted to protect, rejecting that future for himself, of giving up like that. But the red skies begin to emerge, the shadow creatures beginning to sweep across the world. KC Bruce almost taking a sadistic pleasure at the idea of destroying these things, as he activates his armored bodysuit. It wouldn't have to be too fancy as far as budget wise.

B. This one is much smaller, showing a few similar aspects, but not leaning so hard into the fan service in the way the show does. Kara, Lois and Clark, using the breach device set to tracing antimatter signatures, go to Smallville TV show's Earth 217. There they meet SV Clark and Lois, who still have kids. Kara's shellshocked to see Lois look so similar to her mom. At an earlier point of this story, Kara begins to feel obsessed with the idea of turning back time and preventing her earth and Argo's destruction, pushing Ray to try and figure out how to get the waverider to time travel, so she can prevent it. Seeing a Lois who looks like her mom doesn't help. They warn him of the crisis, offering up the ways it can be at least held off, as they try and find a way to stop it entirely, suggesting he gather the help needed to make it happen as they seek out other earths to warn. Then leaving, going to Superman The Movie/Series Earth 78. Where they meet Brandon Routh's Superman, who explains to them his losses due to the same thing as what happened in the show, Kara reflecting on the loss of this Superman and how he strives not to lose himself. Him agreeing to help in any way he can. Meanwhile SV Clark goes to Lex Luthor played by Michael Rosenbaum. He convinces Lex to supply what's needed for the tower to try and hold back the antimatter.

C. This one is more simple than the others. Sara, Barry and Mia try to work out what to do with Oliver, whose badly injured, but the waverider isn't able to heal him due to the creature's attacks being based in antimatter energy. They get Jjonn to project them into Oliver's mind to try and figure out what's going on, after Jjonn tells them that he senses that although Oliver's soul is still connected to his body, it's somewhere else. Oliver questions the Spectre's meaning and where he's come from, the Spectre telling him he was once Jim Corrigan, a officer who sought justice once but allowed himself to become corrupt and killed someone to save his own skin, only to be killed himself, in his dying moments finding God and repenting for his sins, God saving his life by giving him the opportunity to become a heroic force in the world, by being like a vessel for God's vengeance on earth. Spectre tells Oliver that it's now his turn to do the same and become a vessel's for God's vengeance of the multiverse against the Anti-Monitor. Oliver repents, giving his life to God and Jesus Christ, accepting this as his destiny. But not before Mia, Barry and Sara arrive, calling to Oliver. Oliver, torn at first, grasps the importance of this, and agrees, the Spectre's white-greenish energy emerging from underneath his shrouded cloaked face and breathing into Oliver. Barry, Mia and Sara are bounced out of Oliver's mind and Oliver's body disappears from the waverider in a flash of light.

At the conclusion of the episode, the heroes gather to fight back the forces collecting on Earth 14. In the midst of this, we'd get some old fashioned fan service, with KC Batman and BR Superman fighting back to back, and E1 Bruce and TH Superman fighting together as well. Meanwhile, we catch a glimpse of something similar happening on Earth 217, with Lex himself in an armored suit and Clark as Superman. The Bats are focused on beating the shadow creatures, while DM Bruce sees a family trapped in an area surrounded by shadow creatures, seeing the Supers and others making sure the hold back the majority of the shadow creatures to ensure the majority of civilians escape (though this is shown to not be possible as the shadow creatures are even more powerful than before), he throws a small explosive to break them free, and takes the heat of the shadow creatures, him taking a hits from them, it severely injuring him. KC Bruce takes DM Bruce's sacrifice in as he helps defend Kate, as she catches this. The shadow creatures begin to overwhelm them. When suddenly, E-38 Lex Luthor emerges through a breach and, surprisingly, uses a sonic machine that's emitting waves that cause the shadow creatures to stop attacking temporarily, E-38 Clark and Kara frozen in shock at seeing him, as he smiles smarmily at them and tells them, "Hurry up, I can't save you for very long with this!" Kate reacts quickly and manages to grab Bruce, just in time to escape as the earth collapses in on itself, every one of the team following suit.

Now, DM Bruce lay dying, the damage from the shadow creatures causing his body to fail. Gideon explains that it'd need a near perfect genetic match of Bruce to transfer non shadow creature damaged DNA, which would cause the one who transferred it to die in cellular degradation. KC Bruce stops E1 Bruce before he volunteers and takes the hit, explaining that he's lost his way and to tell DM Bruce thank you for showing him what it means to be Batman again, that it's not about punishing the guilty, but about preserving the innocence of those who are defenseless. The process starts and it heals DM Bruce, as KC Bruce dies. Kate cries in a mixture of grief and relief as DM Bruce wakes up, and she gives him the thanks, as well as from herself and E1 Bruce does so as well. Gideon does maintain that DM Bruce stay in sick bay, when he tries to get back to the fight. Kate and E1 that they can be enough Bat for now.

Meanwhile E-38 Clark and Kara throw Lex up against the wall, and angrily interrogates him about what he has to do with this. Lex remains cavalier about the situation, snarkily asking them if they can't handle it when he shows them that he's the hero. Kara and Clark's eyes glow with heat vision energy, before they reel themselves in, releasing him. Brandon Routh Superman asks him how he was able to stop those shadow creatures. Lex replying with, "Oh, another one. Delightful. At least this one has manners." Further explaining that it didn't stop them, but held them off temporarily by blocking the signal of whatever was controlling them. They question that, much to Lex's amusement, him outloud stating, "It's a good thing the Monitor brought me into this. Obviously, none of you are equipped with the brainpower to save humanity." Lex looks to E-38 Clark, saying, "It's gonna be fun working together again, don't you think?" Much to Clark's scowling.

The team are then alerted to the waverider jumping to one of the next earths that's to be wiped out. The waverider jumps.

Sara then calls the whole team to the control room, everyone rushing to it. Barry and the rest are met with the horror that Earth 1 is one of the next earths to be engulfed in the antimatter wave. Pariah appears, and begins laughing. Barry reacts furiously to this, grabbing him and asking him what he finds funny. Pariah explains that when he released the Anti-Monitor, he was promised that when this time came, he would get to do the damage. Barry slowly begins to realize what he's saying, as Pariah's eyes glow red and he superspeeds around the waverider cockpit, knocking everyone off their feet. Eobard Thawne stands over a shocked Barry in full Reverse Flash garb and says that their crisis has come.

TO BE CONTINUED...

END OF PART TWO.

Please review and tell me what you think!

#crisis on infinite earths #the flash #laurel lance #supergirl #arrow

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djsaxby16 · 5 years

Text

Top Ten Favorite Portrayals of Superman

You know, with all the talk about about Crisis on Infinite Earths and all the actors coming back to play Superman, it really dawned on me just how many there really are. Given the fact that Superman is my all time favorite superhero, I thought I’d give a tribute to the man of steel himself. This is my top ten favorite portrayals of my favorite superhero, Superman.

10. Kirk Alyn

Many actors have dawned the cape and crest, but Kirk Alyn was the first. With two movie serials, Superman and Atom Man vs. Superman, Kirk was the first man to bring the man of steel to the big screen and to live action form, a legacy that should always be remembered.

9. Brandon Routh

Now I’ll be honest, I was not a big fan of Superman Returns. It’s definitely not the worst superhero film ever made, but it could have been better. However, I will give the film this, I really did enjoy Routh’s portrayal of Superman. He definitely nailed the persona of both Clark Kent and Superman and if he had had a better script, I definitely think more movies would have been made. Though I am beyond relived that he’s getting another chance to be the man of steel one more time, and as the Kingdom Come version no less!

8. George Newbern

While most people recognize George Newbern for the animated Justice League series, that’s not the reason he’s on this list. Oh no, I’m putting him on here for his amazing and chilling performance in Injustice. Just the idea of a fascist Superman is completely terrifying, and Newbern pulled it off amazingly. He was easily one of the best video game villains I’ve ever seen.

7. George Reeves

After talking about the man who first brought Superman to the big screen, we can’t forget the man who first brought him to the small one. The Adventures of Superman is just pure 50s fun. It has the action, the comedy, and the enjoyment that a Superman show from that era can bring. And George Reeves’ classic take on the man who could “bend steel in his bare hands” is such a fun take. His smile, his confidence, and his positive energy was just contagious. He was perfect for the first tv Superman.

6. Tim Daly

Let’s face it, Superman: The Animated Series had a lot to live up to after the impact that Batman: The Animated Series had. But the driving force behind that show in my opinion was Tim Daly as Superman. When I read a comic book, he is always the voice in my head for Superman. To this day, no other animated incarnation of Superman has been as memorable to me as he has. If Kevin Conroy is Batman, then Tim Daly is Superman.

5. Tyler Hoechlin

While the most recent live action adaptation of this character may still feel new, he has left his mark as one that will be remembered. I admit, I had my doubts about Derek from Teen Wolf becoming Superman. But let me tell you, his few episodes in Supergirl were easily some of the best ones, and I remember feeling incredibly bummed when he left as I wanted more of him. He was charismatic, tough, kind, and just an all around good guy. There are rumors he might get his own spin off and I hope to God that it’s true. He was definitely the right pick to bring the man of steel back to tv.

4. Dean Cain

When I was a little kid, I would always remember waking up and watching Lois & Clark every morning before school started. This show has stuck with me for a long time not only for its entertainment value, but as a different take on Superman. That take being how Clark is his true personality while Superman is the disguise. Plus the romantic comedy aspect just made a very entertaining adaptation of Superman. Sure it may not have been as grand or as big budgeted as other adaptations, but the pure nostalgia value and the fun reinvention of the character made for one heck of a fun show.

3. Henry Cavill

Now I know some of you may hate the DCEU and make fun of Man of Steel and Batman v. Superman. And if you feel that way, tough luck, I love both of those movies and Justice League. But most of all, I loved Henry Cavill as Superman. He is a Superman that is perfect for our current present time. He’s a very complex and intriguing character. He also feels very relatable, he isn’t just all knowing or perfect. He seeks others for help, he’ll call his Mom in the middle of the night when he’s upset, he’ll happily seek emotional support from his girlfriend and others, and he shined brighter than ever when he stood with the Justice League. This version of Superman was perfect to bring back to the big screen for this day and age. It’s complex, it’s challenging, and it makes you think. Just the fact that people STILL debate about him shows what an impact he had. What more could you ask for?

2. Tom Welling

What was great about Smallville was honestly it’s run time. Ten years, we got to see a boy from Kansas become the greatest hero ever. Ten years we watched how Clark matured and honed his power and accepted his legacy. Ten years, we saw friends become enemies, rivals become lovers, trials, adventures, and one of the greatest journeys ever put on tv. Tom has played the character longer than any other live action adaptation and he executed it brilliantly. From the shy farm kid, to the awkward teenager, to the hard working journalist, and to the amazing hero. Smallville was great because in those ten years, we saw the boy become Superman.

1. Christopher Reeve

I mean what else can you say? This man IS Superman. He will always be Superman. It doesn’t matter who else takes up the role in the future, Christopher Reeve will always be the perfect embodiment of Superman. He had absolutely everything, he had kindness, he had charm, he had comedy, he had drama, he had anger, he had sadness, he had bravery, he had love, he had compassion, he was just the absolute perfect Superman. It’s literally pointless to even try to compare him to anyone, no one will top Chris and it’s just a fact. Christopher Reeve is and always will be the one true Superman.

#superman #dc comics #dceu #smallville #supergirl #christopher reeve #tom welling #tyler hoechlin

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chicagocityofclans · 3 years

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Rayner “Ray” Hamelin → Brandon Routh → Rat

→ Basic Information

Age: 547

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Born or Made: Born

Birthday: June 5th

Zodiac Sign: Gemini

Religion: Deism

→ His Personality Ray is one of the most clever show men in Chicago. He can put on any face that he needs, while disguising the dark tumultuous storm that is nearly constant. Many know him as the likable and affable Hamelin brother, the one who always has a joke or an easy smile on his face. He’s flirty and funny and has a way with everyone, regardless of species. Others know him as the international spy and liaison with hundreds of Rats at his discretion to send in any direction he wants. He has a way of seeing underneath the plots and plans of other clans and is generally successful when he takes aim. While these sides of the show man are the easiest to digest, he has a habit of fleeing before others can see the dark streak that runs beneath everything. He never stays in one place for long and finds it nearly unbearable unless there is a purpose.

A third face, rarely seen by anyone still alive, is one of ruthlessness and rage. A type of rage only the oldest of animal shifters could have. He, like his brother Nick, has a dark twist that belies the level of calm he typically approaches the situation with. While his viciousness doesn’t lay beneath every decision, it comes out in furious storms leaving wide spread paths of destruction in its wake. The best case can be seen in his and Nick’s attack upon the underground. They killed 400 vampires in hours and left without a scratch. It took weeks for Ray to fully calm down from that, and other, more innocent bodies, were left in his wake.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Full time Second of BOND

Scars: None

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Clint Eastwood and Nyota Uhura

Two Dislikes: Stagnant People and Being lied to

Two Fears: Nick dying and Blown covers for his agents

Two Hobbies: Museum Tours and Learning Languages

Three Positive Traits: Affable, Flirtatious, Intelligent

Three Negative Traits: Deceptive, Flighty, Vicious

→ His Connections Parent Names:

Flynn Hamelin (Father): Flynn is still alive and well in Hamelin, Germany. The Germany pack usually remain in their rat forms and run missions for their government. The Hamelin pack only takes on their human forms in dire situations, much like when Nick and Ray were kids. The lines were blurry between being a leader and being a father for Flynn when it came to Nick and Ray. In the past few years, Flynn has been making hints towards possibly retiring and wanting Nick and Ray to return home. Ray has been home more regularly than Nick, especially when he was away with BOND. He knows there is an expectation for the brothers to return, and Flynn has spoken to Ray about taking over himself. It feels claustrophobic. Never leaving, never being able to go farther than four legs can take you in a day. Ray is much more connected with the modern world and doesn’t see himself returning permanently.

Lina Hamelin (Mother):Ray is much closer with his mother than his father. They say the bond between a rat mother and her baby is one of the strongest bonds. He feels that closeness with Lina; she can take one look at him when he returns home and see the sins he carries with him, and absolve him of them with a single smile. She’s always the one to call and ask him to return home to see her, which he does far more frequently than Nick. Though she also hopes for his and Nick’s return to Germany, Ray doesn’t quite think she believes it will happen. The last time he left, a brief visit after Ben died, his mother changed to send him off. There was a sadness in her eyes, but also a resoluteness. He hasn’t found it in himself to go back to see his parents since then and Lina has now been asking Jo to pass the phone to him at the ends of their conversations.

Sibling Names:

Nick Hamelin (Brother): Ray has always looked up to Nick. He has been the model he strived after for centuries, and Ray thinks he’s lived up to it all. Ray and Nick have killed and would die for one another without any extra thought. They will be one another’s best friends until the very end. That being said they differ on one key point; which is Ray’s love to roam. He’s never been good at being in one place at a time and was the one who constantly pushed to move when they were a young fledgling of a pack. He’s craved seeing the world in a way that maybe only Ben understood, and it’s hurt Nick to the core. He hates knowing that Nick waits up to see if he’s fine, especially when the check was late due to only a distraction on Ray’s behalf. He’s seen his brother much happier since he’s been home, and frequently under the same roof. It’s made Ray happy, and has almost deterred the deep seeded need to run off onto a new adventure. He loves his brother and is well aware their relationship isn’t healthy. He didn’t realize how extreme the dependence was until he lost it last year. Had Nick not held Ray back himself, hundreds other non vampires would have been killed.

Children Names:

Mary Lang (Possible Daughter): Ray always believed his desperate need for independence and utter freedom would make him a terrible parent, but he’s found a lot of inner peace “fathering” Mary. Even though he’s nearly positive that Mary is Ben’s, he’s incredibly grateful that she’s stumbled into his life. It’s awoken a parental desire for Ray, that he’s never had before.

Romantic Connections:

Klaudia Hull (Ex-Girlfriend): Klaudia is a member of the Hamelin pack in Germany. Ray thought he was in love with her, and would go back only to see her. However, the relationship only lasted about 30 years. She tried leaving with him, Nick, Ben, and Jim, but could not stand being away from her family. It was a tough blow for Ray to realize that no matter how compatible someone may seem, they may not be worth strapping down a part of yourself. They would often fall into bed when he came back home, but every time he asked her to leave with him (which he did every time) she gave him a sad smile and a shake of her head. She is still alive and well, and recently wedded.

Mariyam Mckenna (Ex-Girlfriend): Mariyam Mckenna was a wild woman. She was human, but took the bite not long after meeting ray. Unfortunately for him, she fell in love with another member of their pack. Ray was heartbroken, but wished the two of them luck. She is still a part of their clan, and her Great something grandson, Helo has moved up into a head position.

Doria Lang (Ex-Fling): Once again, Ray was the second pick to Ms. Doria Lang. This one he was happy to step aside for Ben. Ben was madly in love with her, and though most couldn’t see it, he confided in Ray. When they had a fiery break up, Ben found something to destroy and Doria found Ray and also apparently Jim. Ray still feels shame about giving into her, and cast himself out to work on BOND internationally as a penance to Ben. When he returned home, he finally told Ben what happened, who forgave him readily.

Monica Phelps (Ex-Girlfriend): After centuries of being picked over, Ray chose to keep things casual with women around the globe. Monica is a rat contact Ray met in Madrid. She was absolutely gorgeous and came onto him the first week of knowing one another. Monica is always interested, and Ray has flown to Spain explicitly for her. He hasn’t seen her in 3 years, however, when he met Neaera he lost interest in many others. They still talk, and her pack finally agreed to secede to the Chicago Clan last year.

Indigo Irwin (Ex-Girlfriend): After centuries of being picked over, Ray chose to keep things casual with women around the globe. Indigo was stationed in Bangkok to keep an eye on the local Cat population. They did not see each other as often, but they made the most of the time they had. They stopped seeing each other 2 years ago when Ray met Neaera. Indigo reached out to him after Ben’s death, but Ray never responded.

Neaera Jayweed (Interested): Ray blames the universe in the absolute bungling of his shot with Neaera. It was almost a year straight of flirting and convincing her to come back to Chicago with him. He’d pulled away from all the other casual relationships that he had and found himself falling for her. It had been the first time since Doria that he’d opened himself up to the possibility of things becoming serious. They’d finally fallen into bed and things had started going steadier when RED was attacked and he’d found out Ben had died. The wave of pain and anger that hit Ray was overwhelming, and he felt the darkness overloading his senses. Ray gathered anyone with experience dealing with vampires to Chicago and he got to work avenging Ben. He spent weeks after eliminating the 400 vampires teetering on the edge of losing it again, and went on a brief but effective killing spree out West. Nick had to come and get him and it took months before Ray realized he left Neaera high and dry. He contemplated calling but was stopped between his shame over forgetting her and the darkness that overtook him. He hopes to salvage something with her when she comes to Chicago, but knows ultimately things will not be easy to rescue.

Platonic Connections:

Jo Floyd Hamelin (Sister-in-Law): Ray loves his sister-in-law. She’s not the choice that Ray expected Nick to make, but he truly believes that Nick and the clan is all the better for it. Had they not met when they did, Ray wonders how different the pack would be. He is incredibly protective of her and is actively hunting down the man who changed her. Ray finds it incredibly sad that Jo does not have the same comfortable feeling in her shifted form that the rest of their family does and knows Frank is the person at fault for it.

Ben Ehrlich (Best Friend): Ben had always been like a third brother to Ray and Nick. They both had the wild and wandering spirit, and up until RED became a full time job Ben would often go around the world with Ray. He had a sense of humor and charm that rivaled Ray’s and always put their pack first. When he was killed, Ray felt like he’d lost a part of him. He was shaken to the core and could only think of how to make anyone feel a fraction of what he did. Ray has created the habit of talking to Ben in the year since he’s passed. Often it is to help him sort out a problem aloud, but sometimes he just gives updates on Mary and the rest of the clan.

Jalissa Toll (Best Friend): Jalissa has always liked him best. They’ve been good friends since she found them and he finds her a vital part of their pack. He is happy that she has found her own inner peace with Micah and adores her children. She is one of the few that can bring him off of when he is beginning to go too far.

Jim Montgomery (Best Friend): Jim and Ray may initially seem as opposite as Ray and Nick. However, the two both share a habit for forming obsessions and a heady anger. There is no one, save for Nick, that Ray would rather have at his side.

Shelton Mills (Best Friend): Shelton joined last in their merry group of men, and at first Ray didn’t get what Nick saw in him. As the years progressed, Shelton has shown his value in being the cool and collected member weighing in on tough decisions. They have become close over the years and Ray considers him one of his best friends.

Jaxson Idris (Pseudo Nephew): Ray has been in Jax’s corner long before he ever met him. When Nick reported what he’d come across, Ray was outraged. He went to investigate and found the pack was just as bad as Jax described. Ray pushed immediately to keep him and always saw potential in the young wild card of a rat. He is proud of what Jax has become and knows he is destined for greatness.

Samantha Whitney (Packmate): Samantha was another of the rats who came in from an abusive pack. Ray had to confirm her story, which was unfortunately true. From the day she got to Chicago she has worked tirelessly to succeed. He was impressed as she passed through each level of training rather easily. Nick and Ray saw a dependence begin to form between Sam and Jax and chose to split the two up when they permanently joined BOND. Ray soon moved Sam to London to see what she could do, and was in the midst of training her when the attacks happened. Their training has fully stopped, and he knows she’s upset with that and possibly him.

Conrad Kale (Packmate): Conrad had a lot of things thrust at him while recovering from the gas attack, and Ray knows he was not initially the best support for him. Too much pain over Ben clouded his judgement, and ironically the only thing that helped was talking to Conrad about his pain over Ben. He now tries to be an open ear whenever Conrad needs advice.

Micah Toll (Friend): Ray genuinely likes Micah. He is glad they were able to find a way to bring him into the pack, though it required breaking many ethical rules. Ray keeps a close eye on him, always a bit suspicious that he may wake up one day and realize the truth. If he does, Ray has no problem with making him disappear.

Max Vanes (Packmate): Ray has many times had to stop Max and Nick from getting into larger and more extreme fights. He isn’t totally sure what it is about her that gets under Nick’s skin, and doubts he ever will. Max made it a habit from when she was young to seek Ray out when she felt her most vulnerable. Looking back, it may have been Max who was his first experience at “parenting”. He trained her to be his number 2, and she is the head of all local liaisons.

Kris Jayweed (Packmate): Ray brought Kris over from England to help bolster RED’s numbers. He has done well at adapting to a new town and environment, and Ray is proud of him.

West Freeman (Packmate): West has begun to be somewhat of a liability, but Ray is hesitant to pull him off. Despite what the peanut gallery has said about him, West always brings back information and a part of Ray believes that some flexibility is required with BOND.

Dakota English (Packmate): Dakota lost her eye in an accident on BOND about a year and a half ago, which left Ray more distressed than he allowed the pack to know. One of his biggest concerns is the safety of the BOND agents and that Dakota was permanently maimed because of a call she had to make is deeply unsettling for Ray.

Piper Taylor (Packmate): Piper is a solid BOND agent, who focuses primarily nationally. She had a similar story to Jo’s but seems to have really embraced her rat form. Piper has come a long way since joining their pack.

Henry Dean (Packmate): Henry is head of weapons for BOND. He was removed from the field after having images of his face spread around to different massive huntings groups. Ray thinks it may have been better to kill those who knew, but Henry has done well at adjusting over the past few decades.

Kylo ‘Nada’ Rajui (Liaison): Nada has always been one of Ray’s favorite liaisons. They have a similar sense of humor and Ray can talk to him for hours. He was saddened when he found out about Venus’s death and has offered any support he can to Nada and the hyenas as a whole.

Sarah Harris (Liaison): Sarah has been the Liaison for the Jackals for nearly a century. She is always easy to deal with and it is in no small part to her that the rats and jackals have a good relationship.

Geri Beckham (Liaison): Geri is always a good conversation. She seems to be the most educated and worldly wolf and may be the only one Ray can say he enjoys speaking to. She is from Milwaukee and also has a deep appreciation for German food. When discussing business they’ll often go to Resi’s Bierstube for lunch.

Amaria Crais (Liaison): Ray never quite knows where a meeting with the Cats may go. They tend to be rather touchy, and he has found that it is best to leave conversations with them to Max whenever possible.

Sam Thompson (Liaison): Sam is fine, but too often tries to relate to him on a “bro” level. He would never go behind Nick’s back to spread doubt of his leads towards other clans and thinks he’s pathetic for doing so.

Emmett Wilhelm (Liaison): Ray does not hold the same intense dislike for the magical community. Yes, he wants their secrets, but he sees the value of them in their society. He has developed a friendly report with Emmett Wilhelm after realizing his German roots. He and Nick both get along well with Emmett and Audo Wilhelm and Ray believes it’s a positive step in the right direction.

Hostile Connections:

Cadmus Idris (Hates): Ray never forgets the pain done to those he considers his pack. Cadmus Idris abused both of his sons, manipulated their pain, and then tried to take them with him. Cadmus may be alive, but he will die by Ray’s hands one day.

Richard Frank (Hates): Ray never forgets the pain done to those he considers his pack. The state that Ray found Richard Frank’s pack in was disgusting and deeply damaging to all the rats involved. He made them hate their rat forms to this day, and Ray believes he should pay for that. Frank has eluded Ray for the past few decades. He seems to have escaped into Canada before going off the grid all together. Jo has started talking about him again after all these years, and Ray has already started putting more active agents on his tail.

Scorpius Getta (Hates): Ray does not believe Getta has paid enough for his actions. He also believes in keeping those in the city of Chicago alive and knows this is not the time for revenge.

Sven (Mistrusts): Ray has met Sven many times over the years. He rarely seemed to live in a seethe, which Ray always found surprising. He had the reputation for brutality and bloodthirst wherever he went, and Ray was not happy to see him on the streets of Chicago. He is on RED’s most dangerous list, and Ray has put an emphasis on him to Conrad.

Vincent Kane (Liaison): Ray and Vincent never get along. He is well aware that he shares Jim’s prejudice towards human shifters and just can’t stand him. Max has recently taken over communicating with him, which Ray isn’t sure is the better option.

Pets:

None

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#Rayner Hamelin #Ray Hamelin #Taken

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