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heauxplesslydevoted · 3 years

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Hi there! We're changing things up a little this week :)

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Alright, post Book 1 but pre-Ethan fleeing to South America Ethan x Naomi coming right up! I feel like that time would have maximum tension because they’re trying to find their footing again after fucking the souls out of each other’s bodies and sending them into orbit, and lowkey falling in love sleeping together, while maintaining professionalism.

~v~

For Both:

When I first saw them, I thought__________

Naomi: I thought “thank God someone else is here!” I was in over my head with that patient, and I didn’t even notice that The Ethan Ramsey was the one assisting me until much later.

Ethan: I thought she had guts. You don’t see too many first day interns that are ready to jump into the fray like she did.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Naomi: He says Christ and any iteration of the word damn. Dammit, goddamn, goddammit, you get the gist.

Ethan: She says fuck.

Naomi: You’ve never heard me say that.

Ethan: She says fuck a lot, especially when she’s...*Ethan trails off and catches himself before he finishes that sentence. It’s a moot point all the same because now all he can think about is the young intern in front of him, hands pulling his hair, nails raking down his back, moaning the obscenity into his ear, into his pillows. He awkwardly clears his throat* Just trust me, I’ve heard her say it. Multiple times.

*and now he’s mad at himself*

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Naomi: Blue. They’re kinda hard to miss.

Ethan: Her eyes are brown.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Naomi: He hates everyone, except for me and Naveen.

Ethan: Except for you? You think pretty highly of yourself, Rookie.

Naomi: Am I wrong? *Ethan doesn’t deny it, instead staying silent and Naomi smirks* Exactly

Ethan: I don’t think she dislikes anyone. I’ve never met a person like her, she makes friends with everyone.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Naomi: He fiddles with his glasses a lot.

Ethan: She’s constantly biting her lip, especially when she’s really focused.

*she’s actually surprised that he picked up on that* Naomi: You notice that?

Ethan: I notice everything...about everything. It’s the nature of the job.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

*they both share an awkward glance before looking away and declining to answer*

Never Have I Ever...

Come into work hungover

Ethan: When I was younger, yes. But now that I’m older, I know my limits.

Naomi: No, because I don’t get hangovers due to my magical hangover cure.

Ethan: That god-awful drink is...surprisingly effective.

*the interviewer asks Ethan to elaborate on the time Naomi gave him whatever her hangover cure is, and he adamantly refuses*

Had a fistfight

Naomi: Yes, but in my defense I was drunk.

Ethan: *snorts* How is that a defense?

Naomi: I’m the daughter of an attorney, I usually try to resolve my issues with my words. But drunk Naomi is a little feistier.

Ethan: You mean you have a level of feistiness that I’ve yet to see?

Naomi: Oh yeah. Anyway, I was in college, I was drunk at a bar, someone spilled a drink on me, and it escalated. I think I broke her nose.

Ethan: An arrest record wasn’t on your file when we hired you.

Naomi: Like I said, I’m the daughter of an attorney, and the granddaughter of a DC judge. That has its perks.

Ethan: Yes, I’ve gotten into a fist fight before. I punched Nash in the face. And before that, i fought my old med school roommate.

Naomi: Ooh, what did he do?

Ethan: That’s not a story I’d ever divulge while sober.

Been kicked out of a bar

Naomi: Yes. Circle back to the previous question.

Ethan: No, because I’m an adult.

Gotten a tattoo

Ethan: Absolutely not

Naomi: I have a tattoo of the Cancer symbol on my left hip. It’s my zodiac sign.

*this stuns Ethan into silence because he’s seen her naked on more than one occasion and been...very well acquainted with the body parts below her waist, and for the life of him cannot remember a tattoo*

Broken someone’s heart

Naomi: No. At least, I don’t think so. I’ve had my heart broken, if that counts.

Ethan: Same as Naomi. I don’t think I have.

*they make a pointed effort to not make eye contact with each other, and Naomi bites down on her lip, letting the silence hang in the air. The alternative would be informing Ethan that he has indeed broken someone’s heart, and that just won’t do.*

Been in love

Naomi: I don’t know. Maybe? I thought I was in love with my med school boyfriend, but now that time has passed, I know that wasn’t love. At least, not the good kind. And there was a near miss after him, but nothing came out of it. The emotions were a lot stronger the second time around though, and i think it’s the closest I’ve come to it this far. I’m a hopeless romantic, so I hope I find it someday.

Ethan: No. Call me a cynic, but I just don’t see love as something that’s feasible and attainable. Putting that much trust and dependency in another person is not realistic.

For Naomi (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Naomi: I don’t know what’s left for a man like Ethan Ramsey. He’s already done so much in the field of medicine, unless he reinvents the entire wheel and turns it upside down, which I can see him doing. I can see him writing more, publishing more research, and of course winning more awards. If he wasn’t so anti-administration, he could be running this place. Or maybe he’ll start his own non-profit.

Naomi: As far as his personal life, I don’t know. You heard loud and clear that he doesn’t really believe in love. I hope one day he changes his mind or finds a companion, because underneath his extremely prickly exterior, he’s one of the best men I know and he has a heart of gold. He deserves the chance to let someone take care of it for him.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Naomi: From afar, Ethan seems very larger than life, but I think the most impressive thing about him is his dedication to not just medicine, but his patients. I’ve never seen him not go above and beyond for someone he was treating.

Last thing he texted you?

Naomi: “Please consult Diana in HR regarding your official diagnostic team fellowship application. I know this year has been unorthodox to say the least, but there are still some steps that must be taken before the start of your second year. Thank you.”

Naomi: I’ve never received a text message that long.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

*her cheeks heat up furiously and she pulls her bottom between her teeth before answering, her eyes bright and watery*

Naomi: Am I a total glutton for pain for saying I’d jump at the chance?

For Ethan (Naomi is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in her personal life?)

Ethan: Dr. Valentine has so much potential and she’s going to be one of the greats. She’s going to be running the diagnostics team if she chooses to stay at Edenbrook, and I can’t see Naveen not trying to keep her here. She’s going to win awards, have awards named after her, publish research, lead trials, whatever. I hate to sound banal and cliche, but the sky really is the limit for her. I chose her for a reason, and I plan her helping her reach all of that potential.

Ethan: As for her personal life, I don’t know. Hopefully she finds someone that’s good enough for her.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: A-attractive? *the word comes out in a squeak, but he coughs to cover it up* Why on earth would you assume that I’m attracted to her?

*he goes on a ridiculously long tangent about how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your coworkers, especially your subordinates, and how he would never jeopardize Naomi’s career on something as trivial as attraction, and anyone with an ounce of common sense can tell that he doth protest too much*

Ethan: But if I absolutely had to pick something besides her good looks, it’d be her spirit. She’s warm and empathetic and optimistic, and I’ve never seen someone care as much as she does.

Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: “👍” I sent her a message about her upcoming fellowship and she sent back a thumbs up. Just that. I was a little annoyed.

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: As um...flattering as that might be, I would say no. I am an attending, she’s an intern, my soon to be fellow. That is crossing too many ethical lines, lines I refuse to breach.

Ethan: And I would say no because Naomi is...just a good person. And maybe I’m being biased, but I don’t know if anyone will ever be truly worthy of her. But I can say without a shadow of a doubt that she deserves so much better than me or what I could give her.

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #newlyweds game with your host bree

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ingek73 · 3 years

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Prince Harry’s Savvy Media Pivot

His Apple TV+ show and recent media appearances are clear attempts to establish a new public image as a relatable dad in therapy.

By Elamin Abdelmahmoud

Posted on May 28, 2021, at 1:58 p.m. ET

Courtesy of Apple

Prince Harry in his new docuseries, The Me You Can't See

The opening moments of Prince Harry’s appearance on a May episode of Dax Shepard’s Armchair Expert podcast give us good insight into the royal’s new life as a public figure in the US. You get the impression that the Duke of Sussex was still settling into his seat when he casually asks his host, “What do you think about Joe Rogan’s comments [about vaccines]?” He’s referring to Rogan’s inane advice to young men not to take the COVID-19 vaccine.

Shepard somewhat dodges the question. For Shepard, the comments are “ridiculous, obviously,” but he sees where Rogan is coming from. “[Rogan’s position is] ‘I fucking call fights. I’m an MMA announcer. I’m not Fauci,’” Shepard says. He concludes that he agrees “with both sides.” Harry pushes back: “[Rogan] says, ‘Don’t listen to me,’ but it’s like, well, Don’t say that.”

The exchange sets up the rest of the episode as a sort of laid-back chat — Harry comes off as unguarded and off-the-cuff, your smart friend riffing on current news stories. Only it’s not your smart friend — it’s Prince Harry, a figure who’s been in the spotlight since he was born. He’s accustomed to being the most-watched person in the room even without a camera present. So it’s hard to imagine he didn’t know the microphone was on, that the show wasn’t already rolling when he started his riffing. But he pulls off the unfiltered vibe in a smooth and unassuming way. And it’s this casual cool that is the story of Prince Harry’s reinvention right now.

Harry has been in the news because he’s an executive producer (and central figure) alongside Oprah, in a new docuseries about mental health on Apple TV+, called The Me You Can’t See. He’s on the cover of People magazine for it. And this week, the docuseries is following up its five episodes with “a special town hall” featuring Harry, Oprah, Glenn Close, and experts who will continue the conversation the show started on mental health.

On The Me You Can’t See, Harry is compelling, charming, and heartbreaking. He is forthcoming about details of the by-now-familiar story of how he and Meghan Markle left life as working royals to move to the US. He becomes emotional frequently — as he did when he told Oprah that Meghan didn’t act on her suicidal ideation because she didn’t want him to lose another woman he loved.

He is relatable, too, asserting that, “like so many people my age, I know that I’m not going to get from my family what I need” (same, my guy). The 36-year-old royal speaks with authority and precision on mental health and trauma. He is unvarnished when it comes to talking about the dark periods of his life.

Watching him at work in The Me You Can’t See, it’s hard not to admire what he’s pulled off: a total and complete pivot to a new kind of social currency. After all, Harry was “cool” in a very different way not long ago. He had a reputation for being a “bad boy,” the iconoclast within a stodgy family, the wild one who takes it too far, or parties naked in Vegas, or...whatever this is.

But in a moment still in search of new definitions for masculinity — ones that do not rely on machismo and bravado and showing off — somehow, Prince Harry is here to deliver. He’s out here evangelizing therapy and the virtues of getting help when you need it. He makes taking care of your mental health seem like the in thing to do. He’s joining the ranks of men like Nick Jonas, Michael Phelps, and Dax Shepard himself who are embracing a refreshing approach to their own mental health struggles.

Harpo Productions / Joe Pugliese via Getty Images

Oprah Winfrey interviews Prince Harry and Meghan Markle on a CBS primetime special, which aired on March 7, 2021.

Before his move to the US, Prince Harry’s identity was deeply intertwined with life as a working royal. That meant the public's engagement with his choices was limited to that realm: Was he doing the job, or was he failing at it? This is not to say people didn’t have strong feelings about his identity, only that he had little say in the matter.

But with the move to California, Harry’s celebrity posture has changed. He has comfortably slipped into a decidedly American version of celebrity, relying on a more personal story to grow his platform. He invoked the tragedies of his past to powerful effect. He shared that his years of unhealthy alcohol and drug use were the darkest of his life. When he and Meghan launched their nonprofit, Archewell, they wrote, “I am my mother’s son. And I am our son’s mother. Together we bring you Archewell.” The story may be familiar, but they are the ones doing the telling. The power has radically shifted.

In his new mode of celebrity, Harry’s not exactly reimagining the wheel. We’re living in a potent moment of the multihyphenate celebrity — Barack Obama makes podcasts with Bruce Springsteen (?) while Michelle Obama makes Netflix shows (??); Beyoncé sells athleisure (???); the Clintons are writing novels (????). Harry and Meghan have a well-established trail to follow, and they’re doing so enthusiastically (including a Spotify deal and a Netflix one, because why not!).

Piece their moves together and you’ve got the makings of an all-encompassing “brand,” the kind every celebrity is expected to have now. And with this type of public profile, the expectations are that you are to be judged on your public choices. Who are you aligning yourself with? What shows are you appearing on? What are the subject matters you want to elevate over others?

And this is why the Rogan comment is important. The MMA announcer/podcast host/professional “just-asking-questions” guy has, for myriad reasons only some of which are under his control, become shorthand for an old-school story of masculinity. He is understood as rugged and assertive, a tough guy’s tough guy.

In other words, Rogan is a natural foil to the story Harry is trying to tell right now. Even the prince’s choice of media is telling. Before his Armchair Expert appearance, his significant sit-down interviews were with James Corden and Oprah, interviewers who reach broad audiences. Turning to Shepard, a figure whose public identity is propelled by vulnerability about addiction and mental health issues, signals that Harry wants to be included in the conversation about changing masculinity.

The prince is building a public narrative on the idea that the old ways of being a man are not working. He presents himself as living proof that flying an Apache helicopter is cool, but facing your inner demons is cooler. ●

#prince harry #duke of sussex #buzzfeed

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timeandspacenovelist · 3 years

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I Won't Say It!

Rating: G Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Whilst on a trip with the Doctor to a planet that has celebrated New Year's Day for a century, Clara's mind begins to wander and interesting thoughts begin to come out and you're here to witness it.....

Notes : I didn't expect to do more than one piece this year, but this idea came out of nowhere and struck me. So I had to do it. But I must warn you. I'm trying something different to my normal style. Very different. Experimentation is a step towards innovation. But while I'm sure I won't reinvent the wheel though, I do hope that this won't be terrible and you'll really like it. So, enjoy the story!

The prompt is Fireworks.

Also check it out at :

Archive of Our Own

_____________________________________________________________

You. Yeah, you! You reading this right now. I know exactly what you’re thinking, and I can assure you that you have the wrong idea. Now, I know what this looks like. Me sitting on the grass, head leaned against the Doctor’s shoulder, eyes wide with wonder at the fireworks, a smile filled with contentment. My right hand holding a pretty flower he got for me when we arrived, my left hand holding his hand….. But you’re wrong! It’s not what you think! I’m merely just… offering him some support in case he gets spooked by the fireworks. Yep, that’s what I’m doing. Because that’s what friends do. Yep, friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.

What? How did we end up here? Good question. Well, the usual. He came to the house earlier, told me he found this planet of people with really long necks that have been celebrating New Year’s Day for a whole century and off we went. No, no, no, shut up. It is not a date. We don’t do dates. We just hang out and have fun, like two friends. Simple as that. I’m 100 percent positive we’ve never been on a date before. The Rings of Akhaten? That was just us taking a first trip to an alien planet. Vegas? Ha! He didn’t even get us there. Though I really was upset that dress went to waste. I’m telling you. We’ve never done it. He’s not the date type. I’m not even sure if he even understands what dates are.

The flower? Umm….it was just a gift. That’s it. A gift. That’s all it is. Ok, I’ll admit. Him getting me stargazer lilies was incredibly sweet. I’m sure I only mentioned it in passing as well. He’s got a great memory. Fine, yes, he is a great guy. Caring, loving, brave, funny, mad as a box of hammers as well.….. I mean… I guess he’s handsome. I don’t know, it’s not something I’ve really looked at with him. Pretty young men have never really swayed me, if I’m honest. My dad calls me an old soul haha. I used to hate it when he said it, but now I think it might be true. When all the girls had Spice Girls or Backstreet Boys posters and were drooling over David Beckham, I somehow convinced my parents to get a pin up of Marcus Aurelius. Yep, the Roman Emperor. One and the same. So you know where I stand on pretty young men then.

The Doctor…. he’s different. He looks young, but he’s far from it. He’s over 900 years old! Yeah, it’s crazy. It still weirds me out sometimes. He may act like a child a lot of the time, but he’s older than he looks and acts. Compared to us humans, he’s really old…. but he’s also so kind, and there’s so many times where no one could blame him if he wasn’t. But then again, he’s also the very last of his kind. If you ended up in a situation like that, I can’t imagine how difficult that could be. So he never walks away from trouble, never wastes an opportunity to help someone. Always tries to be kind-hearted and gentle, especially if there’s children crying.

So yeah, he’s pretty awesome and I’m glad I met him. That’s not something I’d give up for the world. Can’t imagine what my life would be without him at this point….

Sigh…..

Ok. Maybe I like him a little bit. I'll give you that. But… you’re not getting me to say that other word! Yeah, you know what I'm talking about. He’s a 900-year-old alien, for goodness’ sake! No chance. No way. I won’t say it, nope. You’re way off base with this one. I don’t know what happened with those people who traveled with him before me, but it won’t happen with me. So just get off my case because I won’t say it. Nope. Never!

But….. maybe, at least not out loud I won’t…..

#doctor who #eleventh doctor #clara oswald #ao3 #whouffle week 2021 #fanfic #archive of our own #whouffle

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scapegrace74-blog · 3 years

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Lucky

A/N I’m enjoying going back and filling in some of the missing Metric Universe details. This one is set during the time of Jamie’s injury, so just after The Beginning, and it introduces some important secondary characters.

Inspired by the Radiohead song “Lucky”, and particularly by Thom Yorke wailing “it’s going to be a glorious day” as though he is trying to will it to be true from the depths of his agonized soul.

The entire Metric Universe is available on my Ao3 page.

January 6, 2015, The Royal London Hospital

Sterile hallways. The noxious funk of London smog blending with the antiseptic sting of the Intensive Care Unit. The endless thrum of traffic, bleep of life-saving equipment, squeak of rubber soles on linoleum. It was only when she left the Highlands that she realized how much she took their clean air and miles of quiet for granted.

A few feet away from where she kept vigil in a stiff avocado chair, her brother lay in a medically-induced coma. An orchestra of machinery beat out the tempo to his survival. The zigs and zags of his heartbeat against the ivory background of an electrocardiograph called forth memories of their youth, racing like wee fiends down the snow-laden slopes behind Lallybroch.

Younger by four years, Jamie had long been larger-than-life, even before he surpassed her own diminutive stature at age eleven. Lying now under hospital sheets carefully draped to avoid his flayed back, she remembered the tiny babe in arms their mother had carefully lowered into her lap all those years ago. Fragile, as though life clung to him with only a provisional grip.

“Dinna ye dare think of leaving me, Jamie Fraser,” she softly threatened for what must be the hundredth time since arriving at her brother’s bedside five days before. “I ken ye miss them, but Mam and Da have each other now. I only have you.”

January 11, 2015, The Royal London Hospital

“Fer the love of Christ and all the saints, jus’ drink the damn water ye clotheid!” an all-too-familiar female voice rang out.

“Leave me in peace, Janet. I dinna want any water,” a masculine growl replied.

Ian Murray was still some distance from Room 418A, but he could hear the siblings bickering just fine. Doubtless a good handful of staff and other patients were within earshot as well. He rounded the corner and observed a scene that was equal parts poignant, comic and exasperating.

Immobile by necessity while the surface of his back slowly reinvented itself, his best friend lay facing the door. Ian’s fiancée stood beside the bedrail, five feet of visible agitation. She held a cup of ice water so tightly in her right hand, the straw quivered.

Jamie was no longer the pallid husk who awaited them at the end of a frantic race from Lallybroch to the Royal London that first morning of the new year. Normally hale and over-flowing with vitality, it was distressing to witness him so motionless, eyes sunken and muscles slack. Unfortunately for both Jamie and Ian, Jenny’s sharp tongue increased in direct proportion to how much emotional turmoil she was forced to cope with.

“Och, ye’re finally here,” the woman in question exclaimed. “Will ye explain tae this bampot tha’ he willna improve if he doesna listen tae what his doctors tell him?”

“And what of no’ getting me riled up, hmm? Ye dinna seem tae care what the doctors say when ye stick yer neb in my face every twa minutes.”

“Mebbe the doctors dinna realize that ye’re a muckle-sized bairn with the sense God gave an...”

“ALRIGHT, THE BOTH OF YE!” Ian yelled over the melee. “I am tired of hearing ye bicker an’ so is the entire fourth floor. Jenny, ye’re tired. I’ll take o’er for the night while ye get some rest. An’ Jamie, drink yer water before I pour it over yer bloody hot head.”

Both Frasers froze with their mouths open in retort, surprised by Ian’s uncharacteristic outburst. A deafening minute of silence elapsed before Jenny silently gathered her coat, cap and purse, wished the two men a curt goodnight, then left in a swish of gabardine and discontent.

“Ye’re gonna pay for that later,” Jamie remarked, bending a rueful smirk around the extended straw.

“It’ll be worth it no’ tae hear ye two scold each other fer eight hours,” Ian retorted, taking Jenny’s place in the uncomfortable avocado armchair but sliding it back a foot so that it no longer blocked Jamie’s view of the hallway.

“Jen could harry Auld Nick inta church, and ye ken it well, a charaid.”

“Grant her some mercy. She’s scared witless, Jamie. After yer Da...” Ian left the rest unsaid.

His childhood friend nodded against the bleach white pillow, weariness and something more insidious weighting his eyes closed. Minutes passed, but Ian could tell from his irregular breath than Jamie was still awake.

“How is it today?”

A shoulder twitched in a minute shrug which still caused its owner’s brows to furrow with pain, though his eyes remained closed.

“Hurts like hell, if ye must know. But I’m told I should feel lucky tae be alive by a team o’ London’s finest medical minds.”

“And do ye?” Ian persisted, trying to excavate the kernel of anguish that lay almost hidden beneath all the layers of physical pain. It had been nagging at him since Jamie first woke three days earlier. It wasn’t only the extensive physical damage to his body and daunting road to recovery that was afflicting his friend. The blast had shifted something nearer his foundation, destabilizing the very structure of the man he’d known since childhood.

A long, hissing breath told him Jamie understood what Ian meant by his question, and was giving it due consideration.

“Mebbe feeling lucky is wha’ led me tae this hospital bed.” He spoke quietly but urgently, with the tone of a penitent in the confessional booth awaiting divine judgement.

“Ye dinna mean ye think ye deserved tae be burnt near tae death? Christ, Jamie, twas an industrial accident and ye’re a firefighter. Awful luck, aye, but twasn’t something ye did or didna do that brought it upon ye.”

Another long pause, and this time Ian thought his friend may have fallen asleep. Finally, almost drowned out by the whir and whisper of life-giving machinery,

“I dinna ken what I think anymore, a charaid. I got lost, an’ this is where my mindless feet brought me.”

Long after Jamie drifted to sleep, Ian sat in the awkward chair, listening to his breathing and trying to make sense of what he’d just been told.

February 13, 2015, The Royal London Hospital

Beads of sweat furled down his neck and his back burned anew. Aegrescit medendo, he thought wryly as he readjusted his grip on the wheeled walker and continued his unsteady progress.

“Very good, lad. We’ll have you running again in no time!” Dauntlessly cheerful and deceptively matronly, Jamie soon learned that Maureen Graham was an exacting physical therapist as well. It was exactly what he wanted, when he wasn’t cursing her for it.

“Can we no’ take the elevator to another floor? Mebbe down tae the A&E?” Jamie tried to pass it off as an offhand request, but silver-grey eyes narrowed shrewdly.

“That’s the third time you’ve asked to go downstairs this week, Jamie Fraser. I’m beginning to think you don’t like my ward.”

Thwarted, he carefully pivoted in a half circle and began the arduous trek back down the hallway to his room. Six weeks spent nearly immobile while the surface of his back was slowly reborn had sapped all his strength. Even if permission had been granted, he wasn’t certain he could navigate his weakened frame all the way to the emergency ward he’d last visited the night of his accident. The last place he’d seen her.

“What’s her name?” Mrs. Graham asked as he shuffled the final few feet and sank gratefully against his bed. He thought about deflecting her conjecture, but it posed an opportunity too good to pass up.

“I dinna ken”, he confessed. “Twas the nurse who saw tae me when I was first admitted. Curly brown hair. Eyes the colour o’ ripened barley. I think she served overseas fer a time. Afghanistan, mebbe?”

He was doing his best to appear nonchalant, aided in part by the fact that his muscles twitched violently after every therapy session, but he still didn’t think he was fooling Mrs. Graham.

“Oh, I know just the one. You were lucky to be in her hands. No wonder you pulled through.” She poured a large amount of fresh water into his re-useable bottle. He drank it down in rapid gulps that leaked over his chin. He realized his was beyond pride at this point.

“Her name?” he begged.

“Nurse Beecham. Spelled the French way, but she’s as English as they come.”

Nurse Beauchamp. She finally had a name. He vowed he would recover his strength so that one day he could walk up to her and properly express his gratitude.

#my writing #outlander

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hellishhin · 3 years

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Hello! Day 14 question: what is the source of the Weave? Could the metaphorical chords ever be cut, a person disconnected from magic of any kind? What inspired the string-like design? (I absolutely love it for that matter)

Hello! Glad I can finally get around to answering this! So the weave, at least the initial idea, is canon D&D lore. That is how they describe the magic system. Now I don't know exactly how much of what I'm going to say sticks to canon lore so just keep that in mind.

The weave is kind of it's own... element of sorts. It reaches into every corner of the multiverse and throughout every plane of existence. It predated all of the current gods and I believe was even a byproduct of something the elder gods did (the elder gods are basically the gods of the gods and are so abstract, most mortal people don't even know about them).

A person or place can absolutely be disconnected from magic. There are antimagic spells that... I wouldn't say cut the weave because some aren't permanent but they perhaps tie the weave up so tightly that it can't be accessed? I'm not exactly sure how that works thematically as that hasn't really come up so if you have any ideas for that go ahead! If magic is done really really wrong then it definitely can sever the weave permanently.

Fun fact, there are also these things called ley lines. This is like... a highway of weave strings so to speak. Huge flowing strands of magic and the intersections where they cross are huge wild magic areas. It's dangerous to even try to cast a spell there because it's so uncontrollable. But they can be used to cast extremely high level spells and rituals successfully (this comes up later in the story!).

As for what inspired the string-like design, I suppose that would have to be a question for Wizards of the Coast since it's their lore but I love it too! My DM kept certain things so he didn't have to entirely reinvent the wheel which is why he took this lore to use in his campaign. I'm not sure if I have mentioned this but this campaign wasn't really supposed to be this serious. It originally was something we just started to have fun with so there was a lot of building as we went.

One of the things I like most about the string idea of the weave is I had Sadie play a string instrument (dulcimer) which is also technically her focus for her spells. So while she plucks the strings on her instrument, they can hum at the same frequency as the strings of the weave and she can basically pluck a melody that the weave responds to and creates the spells in tune with the melody! I love it!

Thank you for the question and sorry it took me so long to get back!

#underwing challenge #dang always good questions!#ask #answer #I wish I could take credit #but it's nice to have lore to pick from when you just want to start the campaign #I still love sharing D&D lore too!#Most is still made our own #drippingmoon

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thewickedkings · 4 years

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Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 3

Masterlist || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Summary: Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up for a history project, and drama ensues. Filled with banter, pranks, an unhealthy amount of pining, and Jude being clueless as usual.

Trigger Warnings: I don’t think there’s anything so far, but please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

The car ride with Cardan was strangely quiet. Other than asking where she needed to be dropped off, Cardan remained silent. It seemed that besides arguing, they didn’t have much to say to each other.

The radio hummed in the background, and Jude let herself relax into her seat.

Cardan sat lazily in the driver’s seat, one hand draped on the wheel. With the afternoon sunlight highlighting the planes of his face, Jude glanced at Cardan and found herself strangely curious about his life. She wondered what he would do after dropping her off, how he spent his weekends, who he spent his weekends with.

She wondered if he was still dating Nicasia, the girl he had dated since sophomore year. She’d heard rumors they’d broken up. Nicasia was the only girl he’d ever seriously dated besides the series of girls he’d flirted with. She hated how easily they fell for his charm, but she knew better.

Jude shook the thoughts from her head, annoyed at herself for thinking about Cardan. It was probably the stress from the past week getting to her. Between school and soccer practice and now work, Jude’s semester had been jam-packed.

Once she got to college though, things would change. She would let herself make friends and have fun and be normal. She could reinvent herself as someone people could like. Then she would finally be happy, because it was a path for herself that she had paved on her own, that she had control of. For now, she would just trudge through high school so she could get into college and finally move out.

Cardan turned into the parking lot of the café, and Jude was suddenly overwhelmed with a random burst of apprehension. She had quit her last job at an ice cream parlor because of her coworker, Valerian. At first, he used her to blame for his own mistakes. And because she was new, the boss took his word. Then came the prickling glances and veiled threats, the lingering gazes on the back of her neck, watching her for any mistakes.

She remembered those fearful late nights when the store had emptied, leaving her alone with him, and shivered. Though she hadn’t let her fear show, it seeped through her veins, keeping her on high alert when she had shifts with him. She had hated the feeling of powerlessness, the inability to grasp control of the situation, and eventually quit before Valerian got her fired and ruined her future job prospects. She desperately wanted this job to be better.

Cardan parked the car, pulling her out of her anxious spiral. She fidgeted with the zipper on her wallet, not wanting to go inside just yet. For some reason, Cardan’s car seemed a better option than facing her first day at work.

Cardan turned to look at her expectantly, and Jude slid on her unworried, confident mask like a second skin. And yet she felt like his gaze could see right through her, see that what she showed to the world wasn’t always the truth.

She cleared her throat. “Thanks for driving me.”

“No problem.” He paused. “I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you need it.”

Her lips quirked up in a hint of a smile, slightly surprised that Cardan knew exactly what she needed to hear in that moment.

She exhaled, reached for the door handle, and stepped out. Cardan looked like he wanted to say more, but then closed his mouth. Suddenly feeling awkward, Jude quickly shut the door behind her with a quick “thanks again” and walked to the entrance.

~~~

Her first day at work was way better than she could have expected. Her boss told her to shadow her new coworker for her first few shifts until she got the hang of the job. Her coworker, who introduced herself as the Bomb, had a cloud of white hair that contrasted with her flawless brown skin, and she radiated a sense of genuineness that Jude instantly liked.

As she showed Jude how to make different beverages, Jude couldn’t help but ask, “So what’s with the name?” She winced, realizing how rude that had probably sounded. She definitely wasn’t a very good people person.

But the Bomb just smiled at her, unfazed. “Real name’s Liliver. I accidently, um, made the blender explode, as one does, so I got stuck with the Bomb,” she said sheepishly.

Jude snorted.

“I’m lucky I got a ‘cool’ one, I guess,” she continued. “You’ll meet my friends the Roach and the Ghost in your next shifts. It’s kind of our thing. Stay here long enough and you’ll get one too.”

Jude felt a little intimidated by their already established friendship, but the Bomb was nice enough, so she figured she wouldn’t hate working with the Roach and the Ghost.

After the Bomb went through the steps of a few of the most popular drinks, she demonstrated how to work the register as she took a customer’s order. Jude caught on pretty quickly, and the Bomb left her to man the register while she made some drinks.

She breathed in the comforting smell of coffee and let her nerves settle. She could get used to this place. The small store was the definition of cozy, with booths to the side and elegant greenery adorning the back wall of the shop. A couple students sat on the bar stools next to the counter, backpacks tucked underneath their seats.

The door to the coffee shop opened, and her eyes shifted to the guy with orangish brown hair who had just walked in.

He approached the counter, and Jude was surprised to realize it was Locke, one of Cardan’s lackeys. Jude automatically tensed. Although he hadn’t outright bullied her in middle school, he hadn’t opposed to it when Cardan and his friends did. He’d matured since then, at least from what Jude could tell, and mostly just left her alone.

Even though he was always the least cruel of Cardan’s little group, she was still surprised when he smiled at her and slid into the bar stool in front of her.

“Hey, Jude. Didn’t know you worked here.”

Jude was even more surprised that he recognized who she was so quickly. Most people from school just called her Duarte instead of trying to figure out which twin she was. “Yeah, it’s my first day. I haven’t really got the hang of making the drinks yet, but I can take your order.”

After Locke rattled off his order and paid, he took the bar stool nearest to her and said, “So, I saw your last soccer game. You literally saved the game with that last goal. Didn’t you were that good.”

Jude knew she was good, but she took the compliment anyway. “Thanks. I’ve been playing since freshman year, so you could say I’ve improved.”

“Yeah, you definitely have,” he replied, giving her a charming smile.

Jude’s brain came up with the sudden, unbidden realization that he was kind of cute. Distracted, she fumbled for a response. “Yeah, I guess.”

Before an awkward silence could set in, Locke asked, “So… how’s your history project coming along? You figure out what your topic is?”

Again, Jude was surprised he’d noticed they were in the same class. They literally never talked. “Yeah, Cardan and I figured out our outline.”

Locke’s eyebrows flew up. “I forgot you were working with him. How’s that going?”

Jude smiled at that. “It’s going. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, but I don’t know how long that will last.”

“I’m just surprised you didn’t already murder him.”

Jude let out a laugh at that. “I mean, we’ll see. We still have the rest of the semester.”

Locke grinned at her, and Jude’s neck heated. Before she could think of what that meant, the Bomb called her.

“Jude, drink’s ready!”

Jude walked across to her to get Locke’s coffee.

The Bomb leaned over her and asked her in a low voice, “Who’s the guy?”

“Just someone I know from school. We’ve never really talked until now.”

“Well, he’s clearly interested.”

Jude looked up at her, surprised. “Really?”

“I’ve seen so many meet cutes here that I’ve practically become an expert.”

Jude looked at her incredulously. “You could tell he was interested from one two-second conversation?”

The Bomb just rolled her eyes at her and pushed her back towards Locke. “Trust me. Now go, before it becomes obvious we’re talking about him.”

Jude walked back over to Locke and handed him the drink.

“Thanks.” He got up and picked up his keys. “I’ll see you at your game next week?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

He shot her a smile over his shoulder as he walked out the café.

Jude took the next customer’s order with a newfound spirit, and the Bomb smirked at her knowingly. Maybe this job wouldn’t be too bad after all.

Here’s chapter three!! Let me know what you think :) Yes, yes, I know, Locke sucks, but we’ll get some good JurdanTM content next chapter. Thanks for reading!

Tagging: (Bolded tags didn’t work. I don’t know why, it might be your settings or just tumblr acting up, but I’ll tag you in the comments for now! If I forgot to tag you our messed something up, just send me an ask and I’ll fix it as soon as I can!)

@jurdan7 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @amoosewithflannelforfur @aneuwin @mercrutiodidntdieforthis @hizqueen4life @mi-mavencalories @simonelovesff @b00kworm @nope-has-lied @andromeddea @aesthetics-11 @queen-of-glass @runnybabbit9 @afexiss @the-keen-queen @yesimtheslytherinwitch @fizziefaerie @abigneignenn @storiesandschemes @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @words-of-the-wise @thedazzlingheights @magicalbookwyvern @kittkatandbooboo @queen-of-no1 @iminsanenotobsessed @dorkzrul @snusbandxknifewife @aknymph

#between the two of us #chapter three #wow i actually wrote something #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #The Folk of the Air #tfota #folk of the air #jurdan #jurdan fic #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota fic #jurdan fanfic

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whispersafterdusk · 3 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 20

"Better have a good reason for dragging me out here, fellow."

The nights on this side of the river were unbearably hot, and the wind blew sand into every nook and cranny of person and building alike; Windsor could have sworn he learned in grade school that deserts were chilly at night but Eufala seemed to be different in that regard -- maybe it was the proximity to both the river and ocean, since the humidity alone was enough to make you want to die during the day.

That heat and humidity had already soured his mood by the time he'd returned to his motel room, and finding the little note jammed under his pillow hadn't done much to alleviate it; now here he was out in the middle of the desert, filling his boots with sweat, staring down the muscle-head that had left the note.

Franklin was an intimidating figure whose image was slightly undercut by the moonlight glistening on the healthy amount of sweat on top of his bald head; it was taking every ounce of self control Windsor had to not comment or laugh about it, or stare as a single bead finally ran down off the man's dome and traced a line to the lobe of his ear, then disappeared down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. ((Continued below cut))

"You're not one of them, are you? Duvos soldier, I mean."

Windsor met the man's gaze and shook his head. "Nope - just a humble bounty hunter and mercenary for hire. What's it to you?"

Franklin folded his massive arms with a grunt and a nod. "Figured as much. Listen. Xan's on the hook for some murders. He was given - "given" command of this last job," he repeated, flapping his fingers as he said it, "-and then, poof, dead commander. Xan's rise through the ranks has always been on the backs of the dead -- loads of blood in his wake but never anything that tied him directly to anything, but this one they can't let slide on a maybe."

The man went silent then and Windsor could tell by the look on his face that he was expecting a reaction; he kept his expression blank and let the silence drag on until the meat head was clearly getting frustrated. "Right. And?"

"...and so I'm here to screw things up for him. If he's discredited on something this important then no one is going to care if he disappears. The higher ups are willing to sacrifice another chance at an AI just to get him gone."

Windsor rolled his eyes. "I see where this is going and no thank you. This is your bed - shit in it all you like but I'm not joining you."

Franklin's eyes narrowed. "If Xan takes a fall so do you since you're a part of this damn group."

"I'm not an empire native and also don't give a flying rat's ass about the man or his politics -- if anyone wants to make a stink about it I've got the papers to prove I'm just a hired hand, and if they STILL don't like that I've got ways to get out of their hands. If you want to convince one of the others that they need to save their backsides then by all means do so; I won't stand in your way or narc you out. But leave me out of this."

Franklin growled. "You saw 'em -- they aren't going to break ranks."

Windsor shrugged. "Yeah, and? What would've you done if they HAD?"

"Kidnapped the woman, dragged her back to Duvos - I've got my orders to screw this up but nothing says I can't benefit in the process. So long as the job isn't done as ordered and Xan's embarrassed. He stakes his reputation on his plans always going AS planned down to the letter, so-"

"Oh please, THAT'S your back up plan? Original plan or not that would only make Xan look good! You're as dumb as you look, as dumb as I suspected, and my answer is STILL 'no goddamn thank you.' Mind your business and I'll mind mine."

The other simply narrowed his eyes and glared; Windsor gave it another few breaths then turned to leave. He kept his ears trained for any approaching steps (as he half-expected the man to attack him with his back turned) but he made it back to the motel without issue, and after emptying the sand and sweat out of his boots he unclipped his dagger harness and rolled into bed.

Whatever trouble there was in paradise wasn't any of his concern; he'd been hired to help steal an AI and that was that.

Pity about Xan though...man really did have a reputation for getting things done. Whatever methods he used aside Duvos would surely take a hit in the espionage and acquisitions department if they took Xan out of the chain of command. Was rather interesting to hear that they were actually willing to do something about him...Duvos had some cutthroat politics and supposedly a lot of things were overlooked or praised as being ambitious but whoever that commander had been that he offed must have had parents REALLY far up the chain who had the pull to go after him.

At least Franklin's half-assed recruiting attempt had given him a fair head's up that once they'd paid for his services then Windsor should get the hell out of town and lay low. Maybe he'd leave the meat head enough for a single drink as a parting gift -- assuming the man's own tactics didn't leave him dead at the end of all this.

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"It's not important right now."

Remington mentally sighed; they'd been trying to get the date of Eli's birthday out of her for five days now and she'd stubbornly insisted each time that they had more pressing matters to attend to. And yes, while technically she was correct, he didn't see any harm in them knowing when to wish her a simple "happy birthday" with the rest of it coming later. It wasn't exactly an argument but whatever you wanted to call it was interrupted by a familiar wobble from his bad knee; he immediately froze -- an impressive feat considering he was partly bent over in a stretching pose, and by shifting his good leg he was able to avoid toppling over onto his head (this time).

Eli grabbed him by the shoulders and helped him straighten up, and when he turned around she was frowning down at his legs. "Stubborn injury, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Been like that for awhile now. I've learned to live with it."

"If we just knew what was wrong I bet Stewart could fix it."

"Really? Even without all the fancy technology?"

She nodded. "Really. I've been trying to get up to speed with Xu about what survived the years and what's been developed since everything fell apart. Kind of makes me wonder if we really NEEDED all that tech back then. Made things easier but at its most basic a lot of surgeries are done in essentially the same way regardless of whether it was a man or machine holding the blade... We had an old saying about reinventing the wheel and while innovation was always pushing for new heights there were a lot of things you could say we had down to an art and couldn't really change. Can't remember the last time I'd read about a new medical advancement...and I was married to a researcher."

With Eli helping he lowered himself into the grass and rubbed gingerly at his knee; every couple of days, on top of any strength training they found the time for, Eli had him working with stretches and light exercises specifically meant to try and help that joint. So far he'd not noticed any changes aside from being constantly sore but at this point he was willing to try just about anything as he didn't relish the idea of living the rest of his life with a leg that was always threatening to suddenly buckle if he moved wrong.

"Still, a lot of things made life easier. Bare minimum," she went on, "I'd love to have at least one functional imaging machine. See everything inside without having to open you up."

"How'd those work?"

"Couldn't begin to tell you, beyond trying to explain how X-rays, radioactive tracers, and magnetic imaging works which, aside from basic facts about them, is well out of my scope of knowledge. Now, if I had Darren, or Peter or Ashley here, any of them could talk themselves blue in the face explaining how any given medical instrument worked. Stewart could explain it too if you're interested."

Peter and Ashley...if memory served those were two of the squad mates they had buried in the graveyard (they'd been keeping a close eye on those graves still) and he certainly knew who Darren was. "I won't bother Stewart with that - he'll have his hands full when the next round of scholars shows up."

With a groan she let her head drop back, staring up into the sky. "Don't remind me. The first group was nosy enough."

"These ones are coming from Vega 5 and ought to be more interested in the technical side of things rather than...well."

She flashed him a smile. "Rather than wanting to study me and how folks in the Old World lived?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. I didn't think they were bothering you too much...were they?"

"Not...really? It kind of depends on how you want to quantify it - they didn't ask to meet with me a lot, but when they did they had notebooks full of questions that Stewart's social and technical programming couldn't answer and it'd take me an entire day to get through them."

He frowned. "You could have said something if they were imposing on you too much."

"I could have. But I didn't see a point in it," she sighed. "It was something that needed to be done."

He sat up and looked at her; compared to Arlo or the Flying Pigs he didn't really get a lot of one-on-one time with her outside of these recent stretching sessions but still even he could tell something was a bit...off with her tone. Like she was tired, or sad (and he didn't really need to consider why). "You've got all the time in the world to answer questions."

"Maybe. It just seemed easier to get them out of my hair and get back to-"

"-work?" Remington jutted in. "Doesn't seem like you focus on much else. Is everything all right?"

She blew out a breath that trailed into a buzzing raspberry. "Not you too."

"Me too?"

"You, and Arlo, Asher and Xu - asking if I'm all right or need anything all the time or if someone is bugging me."

"...well, friends do that, don't they?"

"They do, but not every problem or bad mood can be solved by having a friend around."

He bent his good leg so he could rest his arms on his knee, and his chin on his arms, as he gazed up at her thoughtfully. "We just -- it's not meaning to suggest anything beyond just wanting you to know the door's open, you know? I can ask everyone to tone it down but we're just - we care. That's all."

She closed her eyes and, after a moment, slumped her shoulders. "I know, and I get it, and I'm thankful for having friends around ready and willing to support and help. But it's... It's like picking at a scab. Each time I get asked, it's picking - and if you keep picking it never closes or heals, and the scar is a million times worse. And with what they did to Darren's grave I feel like someone took a diamond sander to the scab and ground down to the bone. Just when I thought I was doing better. I talk to Xu, and it helps, but each well-meaning question from everyone else is pulling scabs right now."

"All right. I'll quietly let the others know that you'll come to US if you need something and we should stop asking. But, I do know we do really want to know you, and be your friends, and be there. That's why we wanted to know about your birthday -- heck, if there's any holidays you want to celebrate I know we'll figure that out too."

She rubbed her hands across her face and held them there; when she spoke her voice was muffled but Remington didn't think she sounded too upset. "Birthdays were celebrated only on multiples of 5. I was born on the 15th of the first Spring. I would need to check with Stewart to make sure I've got the years right but I last remember passing my 37th birthday."

Remington nodded slowly, and smiled at her; in his mind, very briefly, he thought 'I'm older than she is' followed immediately by the realization that no, he was not, and no one in the world was older than she was. "All right - I'm sorry if it seemed like I was badgering you on anything but I'm also glad you told me. Do you want me to keep quiet about it?"

"Please. At least until I hit 40."

"It's a deal. How would you celebrate your birthday back then?"

"Gifts, an elaborate dinner. Costume parties were popular. I always ended up with costume parties because New Year's Dawn had just happened, which was a city-wide costume party so you'd always have something on hand you could wear. You'd go door to door singing songs, playing games, giving gifts, dancing in the streets. You'd stay awake as long as you could but it was expected that you'd stay awake from dawn of the last day of the year to dawn of the second day of the new year."

"That sounds an awful lot like celebrating a holiday, and not your own birthday."

She finally dropped her hands away from her face and shrugged at him. "That's what happened if your birthday fell on or close to a national holiday."

Remington went to stand and tested his weight on his bad leg; there were no wobbles, no twinges, no sudden shooting pains. "Sounds like you've had 37 years of getting the short end of the stick, then."

"You learn to live with it. Ready to keep going?"

He didn't protest the sudden change in subject; with a bit more attention and care to how he was moving his body he managed to get through the rest of the exercises without any further trouble, and though he was pretty sore when they were done he didn't mind it too much -- his next patrol would be on horseback so the joint could rest while he rode.

"We'll get there, slowly but surely," Eli said as she walked him to the gate. "Just take it easy for the rest of the day."

"I plan to," he replied with a chuckle. "I was actually just thinking about that." As he latched the gate behind him he could spy Selene heading home - she was just coming out through Portia's gates. "-not to rush off or anything but I better get going. I know Selene is just wanting to pounce over party things."

"Oh I know. She's babbled about your birthday party these last few days. All the more reason for YOU to keep your trap shut."

Remington laughed. "I swear on my honor your secret is safe with me. See you later, Eli."

He hurried off and was able to dodge around Selene with a hurried 'sorry, late for my patrol' and then he was huffing and puffing up the hill toward the Corps building to collect Arrow.

When he got there though he found his saddle was missing. That was odd.

Spacer was there however and that saddle was where it was supposed to be; Remington hurriedly scribbled a note of explanation for Arlo and left it pinned to Spacer's stable stall then saddled him and headed down the road, and wondered how the heck he'd managed to misplace a saddle. Maybe someone had moved it since they were cleaning out the back wall in preparation of replacing a few shelves that were starting to dry rot and his was the only saddle that sat near those particular shelves. Most of what had been sitting on those shelves was currently in a jumbled pile in the corner across from there...maybe he ought to clean a bit of that up when he got back from patrol.

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

He didn't mind that Remington had borrowed Spacer -- the horse liked the man well enough so Arlo knew there wouldn't be any trouble from the animal (unlike Teddy who typically wouldn't let anyone but Sam ride him).

What he DID mind though was by the time he'd found the note the missing saddle was back in its place, and after checking it over he found that a lot of the stitching had been carefully frayed with a knife so that it was highly likely that if Remington had been IN the saddle, moving quickly, and had made any sudden movements or sudden stops, the straps would have given way and dumped him off the horse. Teddy's saddle had likewise been tampered with but not as badly as Arrow's, and Arlo was both relieved he'd discovered that before Sam went out on a ride as well as extremely anxious for Remington's safe return because he had no reason to believe that Spacer's saddle hadn't also been sabotaged.

It was really beginning to feel like whoever was causing their current problems was trying to spread them as thin as possible, as Arlo's first thought upon discovering the sabotaged saddles was "great, now we have to watch the stables."

But...no. That was doing exactly what their spy and or vandal would want.

He still believed that the Stupid Plan idea of Eli's had merit - in fact, this was probably a result of that, assuming their spy was also their vandal - but it was time for a change in strategy.

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

"Looks like we'll be up and running within two weeks then."

It had been awhile since they'd ALL been together out at the facility; they were clustered inside the tent, looking over a collection of blueprints and measurements for the security door and signal transmitters. Eli had been shifted off her patrols and onto helping Selene get the rest of the transmitter parts made, along with the towers they'd be mounted on. With Eli's assistance they wouldn't need to bring in another builder for the assembly (though Higgins was producing the metal struts needed for the towers) and that left Merlin and Petra in charge of assembling the power sources (a mix of hydro, wind, and power stones).

Between work on that, and Mint overseeing the project to get the door installed...two weeks. They would need to manage for two weeks, and then they could bring their full attention down on catching their spy. It was nice to know that the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel wasn't something that was going to run them over.

"Do we have anything new to discuss?" Mali asked, pausing to look around at each of them in turn.

Beside him Arlo cleared his throat and Asher turned to look at him as he leaned forward to brace his hands on the little table.

"Yes, actually. Someone sabotaged all of our saddles yesterday. I think it's time we get a bit more aggressive - try to draw this person out into the open."

"I agree, because whoever this is uh-" Sam stopped abruptly, glancing briefly at Eli, before sighing. "-we had some graffiti to clean up early this morning."

"About me, I'm guessing," Eli said.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Nothing too nasty but basically urging you to leave town, claiming you don't belong here, that sort of thing."

"What was the graffiti made with? Do we have any record of anyone buying paint of that color?" Remington asked.

This time she shook her head. "It was done with charcoal - really easy to clean up, thankfully, but it doesn't point to where it came from or who had it. And of course no one saw anyone doing it AND it was all at different heights so we can't really narrow anything down."

Arlo huffed. "Of course. Regardless -- I worry that letting this stretch on any further will only result in someone getting seriously hurt. It's clear our initial plan has definitely made this person more bold - just not bold enough to come close to us like they did at the tent. I think this may be the best we're going to get so we need to come up with our plan to catch them."

Remington nodded, running a hand through his hair briefly; it was hot and stuffy in this tent with all of them inside it and Asher felt his scalp prickle in the heat just watching how Remington's hair clumped together in damp strands. "We've set a trap once before for that rogue knight - we can always do it again."

"Well, maybe," Sam said, drawing out the last word. "The thing is, THAT time we definitely knew what the knight was after. There's a lot more down in the facility besides Stewart and if we set a trap it needs to be baited with whatever it is they're hoping to steal."

"It also needs to look natural - we got away with the last trap since it was in a ruins that were already falling apart. This facility is much more preserved and it's going to be harder to set something up without it looking off," Mali added.

In the brief pause that followed that exchange Asher sat up a bit straighter. "Well, it's common knowledge that we're expanding the clinic in town soon. We could use that as our staging area instead since it's going to be pretty obvious that we're moving Stewart's station there."

Arlo grimaced. "Yes, but that would be dangerous and tricky. Setting this trap would be dependent on no one else being at risk of injury -- we know this person is armed, after all, and we can't control when someone might try to trip the trap. I don't want to put Dr. Xu or Harrison, or anyone else who might be at the clinic, in danger."

Eli lightly elbowed Asher in the ribs. "AND I don't want Stewart's tech in danger of being damaged either -- if it breaks that's it because while I MIGHT know how to fix it it won't be as simple as heading down to the shop to pick up the right parts."

"Yeah...you're right about that part," Asher muttered. "So it would have to be replicas, and we'd be guessing at what the spy would go for. Do you think they'd actually know what to grab if we baited them with the server stuff or basic computer pieces?"

Eli raised an eyebrow. "Assuming they're not expecting that again? I could make something that looks genuine, important, and expensive."

Remington let out a thoughtful noise, leaning toward Eli. "How complicated would it be to do that? I don't even know what...whatever we're talking about looks like."

"Not...TOO complicated, I don't think? I -- hang on, wait. Before we get too far ahead of ourselves I need to know what's common knowledge about tech these days. Exactly how complicated and fancy I'd need to make the replicas would kind of depend on what people know or think these things look like."

They all fell silent; Asher glanced about and could see lots of thoughtful faces - he was hopeful that that meant someone had an answer, because he definitely didn't. Technology wasn't something he studied or thought about much and he'd consider himself the last person anyone ought to be asking about Old World stuff.

Finally, Mali tipped her head back to look up toward the tent's ceiling. "There's some common knowledge about Old World components but it's mostly regarding the things we commonly find. Everyone knows what chipsets are, circuit boards, monitors and displays, and odds and ends that get lumped together just as 'old parts.' We also have access to old engines of varying types that we've successfully re-created ourselves so we no longer need to rely on digging them up. In this case... I'm not sure I have the answer. But I know who would."

There was a brief pause then Arlo nodded. "Ah, right. The scholars from Vega 5 will be here soon."

Mali nodded. "Vega 5 is full of people who have studied Living AIs, and they and Atara both have large libraries full of blueprints and books on Old World tech along with everything their museums have catalogued on display. They'd be the ones to ask about what they would consider common knowledge."

"But would they know what's common knowledge in Duvos though?" Eli asked.

Mali shrugged. "It's possible. I'm not privy to everything that's been discovered through the Alliance's information networks -- the Flying Pigs are an adventuring guild who sometimes get tapped to help provide law enforcement. I know more than most but ultimately we're not a military group so we're only told what we need to know for the tasks we're given." Eli scratched at her cheek; Asher noted that, due to the heat and sweat, the simple gesture left a pair of angry red marks across her skin "Right... Maybe I should go talk to Gale when we're done here -- er, assuming you aren't putting me back on patrol duty?" she added after a moment, looking to Arlo.

"No, go talk to Gale - this is important. Afterward get back to those signal transmitters," came Arlo's answer.

"Understood."

"You sure you don't need an extra pair of hands with those things?" Asher asked then, looking between Arlo and Eli. "At the very least I can tote and carry."

Arlo considered that for a moment, then glanced to Eli. "Your thoughts?"

She huffed out a breath. "Carrying, sure. But it'd just slow us down if we have to explain how to assemble. We DO need someone to start bundling the tower pieces and that's also something you could do without much instruction needed - get the finished bits from Higgins, ensure we've got everything, sort it out into sets for assembly. Basic stuff."

"All right -- go ahead and help them with the heavy lifting and getting the tower parts ready to transport. Eli, once you've talked to Gale come find me in the Corps building -- Mali, if you'd like to join me for that feel free." Mali and Eli both nodded, and Arlo blew out a breath. "I think that covers everything-"

"Hey- HEY!"

They all jumped to their feet at the shout from beyond the tent; Asher was still getting to know a lot of the townsfolk but he thought that sounded a lot like--

As he was closest to the tent flap Asher stuck his head out to see Albert sprinting toward them; when the man saw him he started waving his hands and his sprint was slowing. Asher in turn hurried out of the tent and began running toward him, faintly aware of the sound of several pairs of feet following along behind him, and about halfway to the man Albert came to a stop entirely and doubled over with his hands on his knees, panting harshly.

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

"Portia...ruins...cave in..." Albert was gasping as Asher came skidding to a stop beside him. "One under...church..."

"Oh hell," Asher muttered. He spun around as Eli, Arlo, Mali, and Remington reached them. "Cave in at the ruins under the church."

"Was anyone hurt?" Arlo asked immediately. Albert could only nod as he struggled to catch his breath and Arlo broke into a run again while calling orders over his shoulder. "Asher - take Albert to the tent to catch his breath. Remington and Eli with me."

The others went running off and Asher put a hand on Albert's shoulder. "Sit down here in the grass, mind the marshy spots - we'll take a minute here and then we'll walk to the tent, all right?"

"I'll ask Sam to stay out here with Adam," Mali interrupted. "After that I will join Arlo and the others in town - stay with Albert until he's recovered then escort him back to town."

"Got it," Asher replied. Mali immediately ran back the way she'd come and Asher turned his attention back to Albert. "Deep breaths, man, it'll be all right. Do you know what happened?"

Albert took several more breaths; he seemed to be breathing a bit easier. After an especially deep breath he lifted his head to look up at Asher. "Not...a clue. Heard a...loud noise. Couple folks...out of the ruins, shouting...about a cave in. Gale already there...told me to come get you all. I was closest."

Damn it... They should have had this meeting at the Corps building, not all the way out here; even as he thought that he knew that was very unfair as all their patrol routes for this morning had had them all out this way and it was quickest and easiest to gather here, but... Well, honestly it could have been worse timing. At least out here they'd all been in one place but had this happened at any other time of day or any other day in general they would've been spread across the countryside with only two of them in town.

"Think you can make it to the tent? We'll get some water in you, can sit a bit, then we'll head back to Portia."

Albert nodded and straightened and the two of them began to (slowly) walk toward the Pigs's tent. Mali was already heading back toward them and they exchanged nods as she passed and kept on going.

"What kind of loud noise did you hear?"

"Just a loud boom and a rumbling."

Asher frowned - a loud boom? "Like...a KABOOM-kind of boom? Like something exploded?"

"I couldn't tell you. It was more - more of a sound that sort of hit you in the chest, more than in the ears, and one you could feel through your feet. Our building is closest to those ruins so it's no wonder that we heard something."

"We? You and Gust I'm guessing?"

Albert nodded. "I went to the ruins, and Gust went for Gale. And then Gale told me to run out here."

"How many came out of those ruins?"

"Um - I saw three folks. Covered in dust, one of them was bloodied. They were all shaken up and just shouting 'cave in cave in' over and over."

Asher went quiet, chewing on his lower lip. He wanted to simply believe that the ruins had partially collapsed but something nagged at him over it; the Civil Corps and the Flying Pigs both conducted regular inspections of all ruins across the Alliance of Free Cities to make sure they remained safe for public use. There's NO WAY they would've missed a structural weakness that was so dangerous as to cause a cave in...someone on the inside had to have caused this. A careless digger, or...

The saddles might have just been the first attempt to send a message.

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

Four injured, one dead. All in all, considering there had been eight people inside the ruins at the time of the collapse, it could have been much worse.

Still. It was slightly guilt-inducing to feel relieved that ONLY one person had been killed -- no one was sure where she'd come from but they'd matched her description to the list of Happy Apartment hotel-based rentals so they had a name but no way to contact any next of kin, nor did they know if this Kara person had any sort of surname at all either. It would make for a somewhat plain headstone but at least they had the first name.

Sam, along with Mali and Higgins, had worked quickly to get a makeshift door in place and the rest of the entryway to the ruins boarded up; tomorrow Dana would be traveling to Portia to help Mali investigate what had caused the collapse. Sam had wanted to go in with them as well but she'd gotten a resounding "no" from Arlo, Mali, and Gale - all at the same time, no less. She supposed that made sense as she wasn't a miner or builder or anyone who would know anything about structural integrity (or whatever Mali had called it), and the fewer people at risk inside for a follow up collapse, the better.

As she walked up the hill toward the Corps building it was hard to miss the silence in this half of town; Ack hadn't been at his usual spot in the plaza, there weren't any tourists or townsfolk walking about. Even the Round Table had seemed a bit quiet when she'd passed by moments ago.

Portia had certainly had a streak of bad luck lately... The pessimistic side of her wondered how the spy would find a way to take advantage of the chaos.

As she crested the hill she spotted a man leaning against the railing of the stairs that led down to the central plaza; he had his back to her but she recognized the coat he had on (even in this heat).

"Bob? I thought you would've moved on by now," she called out.

The man jumped and spun around, stumbling a bit as he boot caught on an upraised stone. "Huh! Huh? Well. Yeah, maybe. Thought I should. Been tired lately."

Sam nodded and walked over, crossing her arms and eying the man. He was a harmless drifter and she didn't suspect anything of him but he was also somewhat regular - he arrived in the spring, left at the start of the summer season, and then came back mid-autumn. "Something wrong?"

"Not really. Just got a feeling. Road might not be safe."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I remember someone telling me there was a thief around. I don't carry valuables. But that's not all someone could take."

"Bob... Do you think someone's trying to harm you in some way?" she asked.

The man fidgeted a bit. "Not me. I think? But I've seen some ghosts. Footprints out of thin air. I don't want to share a road with it."

Sam stared at him. "...where did you see these footprints? Can you show me?"

Bob shook his head. "Not now - been too long. Saw them on the beach while I was stargazing. Walking west. Too close to where I'd pass going back south."

"How long ago was this?"

The man shrugged, then scratched at his head. "Not sure. I don't do so well with time anymore."

"But it was recent, at least?"

He nodded; Sam mulled that over -- it sounded like Bob had spotted their spy out in the wild. "How about we walk together to where you saw the footprints and you tell me whatever you can remember about when you saw them and what you were doing?"

He nodded again and walked with her back down the hill. As they passed under the gates she wondered if she shouldn't call for back up but... Well. She could think of a lot of reasons to do so, and the reasons not to didn't seem as convincing so as they continued down the road she gestured for them to detour toward Selene's house. Eli ought to be in the factory helping assemble, and Asher ought to be here too. Surely one of them could shift over to walk out to...wherever, with her and Bob.

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

That she hadn't known Kara made it easier to look genuine when it came to keeping her expression appropriately sad-looking as they buried the woman; it was a small ceremony with a smattering of Portians present, along with the full force of the Civil Corps -- being as she didn't see them she assumed that the Flying Pigs members were out at the facility, as usual. They seemed to never, ever leave the place unguarded and, as she'd discovered the other evening while doing some recon, there was a gigantic build project of some kind being carried out at the facility's entrance now -- if she had to guess it looked like some sort of covering, or door.

That likely meant they were really doubling down on the security out there, and while what she was after was being moved out of the facility she was beginning to get worried -- if they sealed that place up tight that would free the Pigs up to directly watch the construction of the clinic addition and the installation of the All Source AI.

And that would make Lily's job even harder while now also being down a team member.

After the funeral it was announced that the ruins would be closed for the time being to conduct an investigation into the cause of the collapse; that at least didn't effect any of them remaining but it ALSO carried the high risk of bringing in more outside people -- more Pigs, more nosy law-types, the possibilities were starting to pile up.

Days ago she'd been bitching about how long it was taking them to start construction; she'd seen buildings put up in a matter of days in Duvos -- how hard could one addition to an already existing building be?

Now... As much as she didn't want to disappoint Xan, they might indeed have to change their plans to have any chance of this heist succeeding.

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

They always put out the paper on the first of every month. Always. Without fail -- even if it meant that she and Erwa stayed up all night fixing issues with their printing press machine or working to get wording on an article juuuuust right.

The first of the month was still six days away but Gale had asked for a special edition to be produced. It was the hardest thing Mei had ever had to write: all this...all this alarming detail on a vandal, a thief attempting to break into the medical facility in the marsh, and now the devastating discovery that the cave in two days ago had been purposely caused by tiny explosive charges. It was such awful news that sometimes Mei found her hand shaking as she scribbled notes and drew arrows or crossed out paragraphs as she tried to get things into order both chronologically and also in a manner that flowed well for reading.

There were still a few hours to go before they needed to start printing and there was just one thing Mei wanted to get done before then but then again... It wasn't a nice subject and she didn't want to offend anyone - especially not the person she'd like to interview regarding all this.

But. She wouldn't know if she'd be offending unless she asked.

Selene's workshop was a familiar sight - Mei had been out here a lot over the years, both before and after large city projects were announced and completed with the builder's help - so she knew better than to knock on the house's door and instead marched up to to the factory door and really gave it a good pounding. After a few minutes the door opened and an oil-smudged Selene was framed in the doorway, and once it registered who was there Mei was offered a big, bright smile.

"Hey! What're you doing out here?"

"Hello Selene! I was wondering if Eli was still here?"

Selene nodded and stepped aside, gesturing with one hand toward a makeshift workbench set up perpendicular to her usual one; lined up shoulder to shoulder was Eli, Petra, and Merlin, all hurriedly working to assemble bits and doodads that Mei guessed was all meant to fit into a much bigger contraption of some kind.

It was unusually quiet in here today as well; only a handful of the machines were running -- that must mean whatever Selene was working on either didn't need a lot of pieces or maybe it was almost complete. She stepped inside and out of the way so Selene could close the door and then noted that the latest member of the Civil Corps, Asher, was sorting large metal struts and rods into organized piles against the far wall, moving about in short bursts and then checking off things on a clipboard he had hanging off his belt.

"I'm not interrupting something I shouldn't, am I?"

"Not really - we can spare a pair of hands for a bit." Selene led Mei over toward Eli and the Research Center gals. "Mei's wanting to talk to you, Eli."

The woman looked up at them (though Mei noticed her hands didn't stop what they were doing - it was kind of impressive to see her keep working without her looking at the pieces) and silently lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh - um, yes. I was wondering if you could spare some time to give a few statements for the article we're writing for the paper?" Mei asked into the pause.

"Uh..." Eli drew the word out, returning her attention to what her hands were doing. It seemed immediately clear that whatever her answer was going to be it would have to wait until she'd finished off this piece of...whatever it was; Mei waited patiently, and watched with a bit of curiosity, until Eli had slotted all the pieces together and tightened down all the screws. "-all right, sure. Let's step outside for some air."

Mei led the way outside and then followed as Eli took an abrupt turn to the western side of the factory -- there was a cluster of stools out here and they both settled on one, and Mei hurried to pull out her little notebook.

"All right - of course, if you find any of my questions upsetting it's perfectly fine not to answer. I don't mind at all!"

Eli nodded. "Ask away."

"How would you say the situation is currently going?"

"Which one are you referring to?"

"Let's start with the vandal. It couldn't have been easy to see the gravestone damaged like that."

For several breaths Eli didn't answer. Mei sat patiently with her pen poised over the blank sheet of notebook paper with her free hand pinning the loose edge down; this side of the factory was currently in the shade and the breeze was a bit strong as the wind rushed along the flat brick. It was a nice place to sit but if she wasn't careful her notes would get scattered across the yard since not all the pages were still bound to the wire spiral.

"It wasn't, no. It's clear whoever did it wanted their message heard, and intended it to hurt. It did, I won't lie, but also, it really shows just how much of a coward this person is since they didn't confront me directly. Same with all the other instances of graffiti lately -- they're not brave enough to say anything to my face. In that context, it's a bit comical."

It took about the same amount of time for Mei to write that down as it had for Eli to say it. "-and do you have any guesses as to who this person is?" Eli shook her head but didn't elaborate; Mei added a little mark after the quote to remind herself of the answer. "How about things out at the medical facility? Has there been any further attempts to break in?"

"No, and soon there won't be any chances of a break in either. We're installing a security door and will work toward preserving the facility as it is."

Mei had heard about the door - she wondered what it would look like when it was done. "And do you have any opinion on the expansion at the clinic, since it's rumored that you'll be incorporating an All Source AI into the building?"

Eli blinked at her. "Incorp- uh, maybe that definition has changed in three hundred years but we're not incorporating him into anything. He'll be installed and be there to teach and treat, but he won't be in charge of or able to run the clinic by himself. For one, there's no other computers or AIs for him to oversee, and secondly the building will be just a building without any tech for him to monitor either."

"Do you have any worries about how having an All Source AI teaching humans would be seen in the greater world?"

With a loud sigh Eli leaned back against the brick wall. "I do, sort of. I worry that zealots in your Church won't be able to look past him being a part of the Old World and try to destroy him, in which case all the knowledge he holds would be lost along with him. Hand in hand with that I also worry about what he'd be teaching and to whom."

Mei looked up from her notes in surprise. "You think he'd teach something bad? Or bad people?"

"Not exactly "bad" in either case, its more I worry people will try to somehow hoard the knowledge -- even hypothetical enemies deserve the right to live disease and injury free. I wouldn't really say there's right and wrong people to teach, but I do think there will be people out there who think they're the only ones who have a right to the knowledge, or who think some knowledge is fine but some of it should be scrubbed from history. We even had a bit of a problem with myths and misinformation regarding certain diseases in my time and that was with an entire world's worth of knowledge available to anyone at any time."

Mei slowly nodded at that; it reminded her of an article she'd written a few years ago about the push-back of remedies coming from a doctor in Vega 5. "So, even if people don't want to keep the knowledge to themselves there's also a question of whether some would accept it, at all."

"Exactly. I imagine there's going to be a lot of entrenched doctors scattered across the world who think their way is best and will be unwilling to change. It'll be a bit messy in the upcoming years but I hope the overall health and life expectancy of the world goes up as the knowledge spreads -- and hopefully it'll be fairly uniform across the world, not just in small clusters due to hoarding or refusal to adapt."

With her hand cramping from how quickly she was trying to write Mei managed to get all that down in her notes; she'd gotten a little carried away as she'd only wanted a few lines to quote but this could potentially be an article all on its own. She was just about to shut the book when a thought occurred to her. "Oh! Right - there's been a lot of questions about the metal towers that were put up recently. Are you able to explain what those are for?"

"You guys use telegraphs for long distance communication, right?"

Mei nodded. "For messages that can't wait for couriers."

"Right. So, those towers are the first of many that will hold...how to put it in simple terms... Think of a telegraph that doesn't need wires, is more reliable and secure, and also can just send words instead of having to tap a little button and have someone translate at the other end. We're trying it out here in Portia and maybe in the future, assuming it works and can be reliably maintained, we could extend it across the continent."

"What, really?" Mei asked, eyes widening. "That's huge!"

Eli was giving her an amused look and Mei realized her jaw was hanging open; she scrawled an almost unreadable note about the towers underneath the rest of it. "Ah, um - uh, so, when will THAT project be completed?"

"It'll take some time. Getting everything installed is the easy part. Getting it all to work correctly will be hard."

"So...no...expected...completion date yet?" Mei asked as she wrote, glancing up from the writing to Eli, then underlining the 'no' as Eli shook her head. "That's very exciting... Will it be something anyone could use? Will it cost a lot?"

Eli paused, then offered a half shrug. "Well, I guess that first answer is yes and no. In terms of complexity anyone will be able to use it because it's not difficult at all to learn, but initially there's going to be a problem with getting parts to both maintain and expand it so there won't be a lot of the system in place for widespread use to start. I don't have any idea on cost just yet - we're using a combination of wind, water, and power stones to start off with. I'm relatively certain I know how much energy this will draw but won't know exact numbers until its been up and running for awhile."

"And...you're ok with this technology spreading?"

Eli snorted loudly. "I am," she replied, placing heavy emphasis on 'I.' "No idea about the rest of the world."

Mei hummed to herself as she put down a few more notes. "This could be an article by itself... All right. That was everything I had in mind for this piece. Unless you'd like to add anything?"

"Not in particular."

"Well, thank you!" Mei said, smiling and shoving a hand toward her. Eli shook it with a bit of a smile and then stood. "I'll get this over to the paper and you'll be seeing it in print soon!"

Eli didn't reply beyond nodding, then led the way around the building where she went back inside while Mei headed toward the gate; she felt a bit lightheaded -- like she was floating across the grass. The prospect of a better, more secure communications system that was instantaneous made her giddy; imagine how much faster information could travel. Imagine how quickly a message back home could reach family...how much easier it would be to stay in touch with the Atara Post about her progress with the Portia Times.

There were dozens of ways she could instantly imagine her life getting easier if this communication thing worked, and that was just for HER - she couldn't even clearly conceive all the ways the entire Alliance could make use of such a thing.

As she walked through the doors into the news building she managed to pull her thoughts away from the communications scoop and set herself back on track regarding the special edition Gale had asked them to put out; it didn't appear Erwa was here but that was ok - Mei could work on a rough draft and get his opinion later when he came back.

Eli hadn't been the only one she'd interviewed today so the first order of business was to quickly reread her notes and decide where to insert Eli's bit into the order she'd tentatively decided on earlier; this article needed to be a direct and firm read, with a logical flow to the information, but it couldn't have a tone to it that would cause undue alarm. People had a right to know that the cave in was actually a murder, but how to word it so that it wouldn't cause a panic in town...

And also, the more she thought about it, the less sense it made to include anything referencing the communications project. Prior to talking to Eli she'd assumed the towers were related to the security project out at the facility but now it seemed they were unrelated to each other, and...well, if they had a vandal snooping around it wouldn't do to draw attention to something this valuable.

...yeah. It made more sense to relegate the communications towers to its own separate article, AFTER the vandal (or murderer? Or both?) had been taken care of. At the very least that cut out a good amount of information she would've had to figure out how to fit onto the front page with everything else.

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

Windsor had "claimed" a small area of the Peach Plaza for his impromptu performances; a decent number of people expected him to be there in the mornings and later at night, showing off his juggling and throwing skills (a few had even donated some small straw targets for him to use so he'd changed up his routine a bit). It may have just been a cover job but it was bringing in decent money; it was a nice little perk to the whole thing but if they didn't get moving on this theft job soon he wouldn't be able to keep playing off the "too poor to go back home" angle of his cover story.

The atmosphere in Portia seemed a bit...strange this morning. There weren't nearly as many people moving about in the central plaza as usual, and as he went plodding up the hill passed the shops he was a bit alarmed to see a small crowd of people that WEREN'T his usual audience huddled roughly in his spot near the fountain. As he drew closer he could see all of them clutching papers in hand, and there was a dull roar of chatter among them. In their midst was a squat, hairy man in an orange vest and hat, and a blonde woman wearing a blue and white pointy hat; they appeared to be handing out whatever the paper was, and when he finally got close enough to the gathering he saw it was a thin newspaper with "SPECIAL EDITION" printed in big, bold letters across its top with "Portia Times" printed in slightly smaller text beneath it.

Through a gap in the crowd the hat-wearing blonde noticed him, and carefully wound her way through the group toward him with one of the papers in hand, pushed out toward him.

"Good morning, sir - would you like to read this special release of the Portia Times? This copy is free, paid for by Portia's government."

"Uh...sure. What seems to be the ruckus?" he replied, taking the paper and skimming the-

...oh. Oh boy. Well, that wasn't good.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 20 #Arlo #Mali #Remington #Sam #Flying Pigs #Albert #Mei #My Time at Portia

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rookisaknight · 3 years

Text

Raf Tanager, meet Hope County

⤘⤘⤘There’s a new Deputy in Town⬽⬽⬽

So as a side benefit of getting into this fandom again with a brand new gender and a brand new vibe: a brand new deputy. Excited to introduce you all to my boy, they were developed for a joint Deputy au with @ophiebot (who will do this for their Deputy Elijah Rook if so inclined). Not exactly reinventing any wheels here, but this time its about the indulgence.

FYI, Molly is still extant, but her story I think has been explored in my brainspace as much as it needs to be.

➷The Basics

1. Give their full name, and describe them or post a picture! (Height, build, hair, eye, and skin color, etc.)

Rafael "Raf" Tanager (birth name REDACTED). 5'4", prone to chub but hardening up with the frequent exercise, solid build. Freckles on cheeks that darken as time goes on. Short hair kept red by some truly obsessive hairdye upkeep, which is harder than you might think. Hazel eyes. Burns and shrapnel scars around the eyes and mouth.

2. How old are they?

3. Sexuality and gender?

Bisexual, transmasc genderqueer. She/they/he but a preference for they/he when he doesnt trust the person using them.

➵Pre-Game

1. How did they end up at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department? How long have they worked there?

Raf grew up closer to Missoula, but he’s still a Montana native. They’ve been at this for around 8 months, pretty much right out of graduating college. Even they honestly aren’t sure how they ended up here, just the latest in a series of adrift jobs after graduating, taken primarily to avoid any potential financial dependence on their family. Probably would have resigned soon were it not for. Everything.

2. Relationship with Pratt, Hudson, and Whitehorse?

Pratt: Used to hate his guts. The teasing felt too much like flirting for their comfort and he was honestly kind of a bully. Now its trickier. He's pathetic in a way that’s hard for them to be around, as awful as that is, because it hits too close to home.

Hudson: Had a massive crush on her for most of their early days that pretty much went out the window post Eden’s Gate. They still try a little too hard to impress her though.

Whitehorse: Intellectually, they resent his passivity since it means a lot of Eden’s Gate ended up falling in their lap and he’s STILL insistent that maybe they should have left it alone when they’ve all had months to realize why that was a bad idea in the first place. Emotionally, well, they’re maybe a little in need of a father figure or two.

Elijah Rook: The former Rookie. They were quietly a little intimidated by him prior to all this and that’s never fully gone away, but they’ve now been able to witness more of his dorky side that makes it a little harder to take him seriously. You try chaperoning this guy from one end of Hope County and considering him at all frightening.

3. Do they have an education?

They have a MASTERS and its never relevant to anything because its a humanities degree, specifically the classics. Part of the reason they’re a little adrift currently, there was no easy dismount out of college. Just a hell of a lot of debt.

4. Where are they from? Did they speak a different language there?

Missoula, or close enough to it. They picked up some Latin and Greek from their degree. The Latin comes in handy more often than you’d think, what with the cult stuff, but the reading material is a real bummer.

5. Is there anyone outside the valley that might have come looking for them?

They’ve never had many friends in college and high school that could outlast physical proximity and they basically ghosted their family since that was easier than coming out to them at a certain point. So no, no one they want to find them is looking.

6. Did they have a religious background of any kind?

His father is a preacher, and while there’s some baggage there they would still describe themselves as broadly religious. Or at the very least superstitious.

➷Inside Hope County

1. What was going through their head when the helicopter went down and during the subsequent chase?

The crash was honestly the easiest part. That was just panic. The chase was the hard part. The helicopter exploding ended up catching them in the face, leaving them with burns and scarring that would remain for the rest of their life. She's lucky she wasn’t blinded. Still, he was forced to stumble out of the woods in intense pain and bleeding out. Had it not been for Elijah they definitely would have been taken then and there.

2. Were they afraid of Joseph and Eden’s Gate? Angry?

Terrified. Not just because of what they’ve done but because Raf knows intuitively that he's susceptible to it. As early as their first encounter they have a hard time breaking the hold Joseph gets on their mind. Even though they’re conscious of HOW they’re being manipulated, its hard to resist it.

3. Did they trust Dutch?

At that point Raf would’ve happily taken literally anyone who seemed to know what they’re doing and wasn’t holding a gun to his head.

4. How did they feel about their team being taken by the cult, did they count them as lost, did they want them back, did they not care?

Absolutely the nightmare scenario: people’s lives depending on them and their ability to be decisive. Had it not been for Elijah they probably would’ve high tailed it out of there and tried to find someone higher up the authority chain to deal with this mess. Still, just abandoning them all didn’t sit right with him either, and by the time they’d liberated Fall’s End even he had to admit he was there by his own choice.

5. How did they take to the idea of being part of, if not leading, the resistance?

Again, Raf doesn’t really do well with people depending on them. Alone. they probably would have found it a lot more miserable, but Elijah significantly helped lighten that load for them in terms of having a direction. They’ve found out they’re accidentally pretty good at working with a variety of people and can even be inspiring without meaning to. Still, in their ideal world they would’ve been left alone, or at least remained a foot soldier.

6. Which companions did they recruit, and who did they travel with the most?

All guns for hire were recruited, but Sharky and Nick were their go-to’s, Sharky for personal reasons and Nick for air support. Grace was usually the adult supervision when Nick couldn’t make it but. To be frank Raf's aim isn’t great and it drives Grace a little nuts on prolonged missions. She’s tried teaching them but it never really seems to stick.

7. Did they have time to find romance amidst the chaos? How did they do it?

Sharky. That relationship was a bit of a cold opener (and don’t bother, Sharky already beat you to that joke). After getting their face fucked up during the escape they’ve had a pretty healthy aversion to fire and explosives, making his recruitment a little harrowing. Still, Sharky's sweet in his way, makes them laugh and breathe a little easier when the pressure gets to them, and operates on a pretty similar brainwave. They’ve been joined at the hip since their first few months in Holland Valley. They’re both a little on the codependent side, but really, who are they to complain.

8. Feelings about Joseph?

Joseph taps into a lot of vulnerabilities inside of Raf intuitively. The absence of a strong support system, the loneliness, the fear, the directionlessness, the relationship with their own spirituality, it all provides him a unique entryway into their psyche that he is exactly the kind of person to exploit. As a result, he tends to fixate on them over Elijah, usually to their detriment. Still, that connection can sometimes go both ways, and there are things about Joseph that Raf understands which even his brothers never fully do.

9. Feelings about the other Seeds?

John: They have a unique capacity for antagonizing him. Probably because as an oldest child themselves they know exactly how to jab at the youngest child insecurities. Still, that relationship didn’t stem any deeper and he focused his energies a little more on Elijah. Still, they have him to thank for the Sloth scars on their arm, thanks for that. They’re starting to run out of unmarked skin.

Faith: Faith, meanwhile, was a little more directly focused on Raf, partly because her region was the first time they had to operate a little more on their own. For personal reasons, Elijah wasn’t particularly able to engage with the Bliss. Meaning if Burke was ever going to get saved Raf had to be the one to go in there, again and again. Faith, like Joseph, can tap a lot of that loneliness that Raf has, as well as some gender and sexuality stuff Joseph can’t touch. Suffice to say Sharky had a pretty good reason for being as overbearing as he was during those months, even though he was eventually able to do the job. As a side note, they haven’t had access to their ADHD meds for MONTHS and it doesn’t help when the cult drug is the first thing to make your head feel clear in a while.

Jacob: Jacob was utterly uninterested in Raf and the feeling was mostly mutual. He doesn’t really get him or what he’s about, just knows that the county would be better off when he was put down. Transition goals, though (don’t tell Staci they said that).

10. How did they handle having to kill animals and other humans? Had they done it before?

Animals yeah, you don’t live in Montana as long as they did without hunting occasionally. People....well. You can get used to it.

11. Which canon ending did they choose in-game, and would you have changed the ending at all?

Resist. I wouldn’t. Raf might.

➷Personal

1. Favorite weapon(s)?

They usually prefer to show up to spots early and lay traps, try to minimize the direct combat involvement. When it can’t be avoided though, their pistol isn’t ever far and neither is a hunting knife.

2. Stealth or firepower?

Stealth, one hundred percent. Sharky and Eli are here to do the firepower.

3. How did they spend their time, when not fighting peggies?

A lot of bad movies with the boyfriend and a LOT of poker, one of their more unknown talents. Resistance isn’t gonna fund itself.

4. Where did they live during the events of the game?

Wherever there was a bed they could fall into. Their little trailer they’d been living in prior to all this got absolutely decimated while they were healing up on Dutch’s island.

5. Any other facts you want to share about your Deputy!

He’s got almost supernatural luck to the point that a couple of their guns for hire have gotten superstitious about bringing him to certain events. Including fishing. The catch just always seems somehow a little better. Also he’s privately obsessed with the 1998 recording of Cats and is terrified of anyone finding out.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #far cry deputy #oc: raf tanager #oc: elijah rook #joseph seed #sharky boshaw #long post #far cry rook

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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The Legend of the Three Caballeros: Mt. Fuji Whiz and Thanks a Camelot Reviews: Thank God, No Daisy (Comissioned by WeirdKev27)

Saludos amgios and welcome to the final sprint of THE RIDE OF THE THREE CABLLEROS. If your wondering if this is a bit soon.. that’s because it is. While I planned to do the episodes as is before.. this bottom half of the series so far has been so good I couldn’t bare waiting days to get to the next episode just as things are getting really good, especially after the last episode’s cliffhanger. So today, I intend to FINISH the series, with an epilogue next week for my look at the cabs as a whole via a top 12 moments list. Plus i’m already excited for the next retrospective, so there’s that. And yeah Kev’s funding ANOTHER one and you can too.. serioulsy just shoot me an ask for any solo episode or arc you wan’t covered. But now’s not the time for shameless plugs, it’s the time for adventure and to sew up a cliffhanger! So come with me after the cut for some ghouls, ghosts and arthur won’t you?

PREVIOUSLY ON LEGEND OF THE THREE CABLLEROS:

And now the conclusion...

Mt. Fuji Whiz:

First off... let’s talk about the episode titles for the series since I don't think I have yet.

It has bothered me for the ENTIRE run of the series how terrible most of them are. There all a pun of some kind on something involved with the episode.. but out of 13 episode titles the only ones I like are World-Tree Caballeros, No Man is an Easter Island, Stonehenge Your Bets, Nazca Racing and Thanks a Camelot. And most of them fit the theme of the episode with the exception of Stonehenge: World Tree is a clever pun they couldn’t NOT use, no man fits the theme of the episode as bad as that episode is, Nazca Racing is just another good pun and fits the race at the end, and thanks a Camelot while a very simple one, fits the story of that episode, i.e. everyone's dissatisfaction with Arthur’s training. More on that later. Point is the rest are just.. really cringe inducing puns. And I do LOVE a good pun.. but that’s a GOOD pun, not obvious ones about a “pyramid life-crisis” or a play on gee whiz in 2018 for god’s sake. And the finale title is just.. really awful as they gave up entirely and named it after square dancing for HOPEFULLY no adequate reason. And look the series is a comedy first with the action second, pun titles would be fine.. their just so bad it sucks all the pun out of them. See what I did there? THAT’S a pun. And not even a great one, but it’s still better than this. It feels like the titles were an afterthought and it’s obnoxious. and frustrates me every time I have to type them out. And with only four episodes left I had to get it out sometime.

So moving onto the actual episode we pick up with the ending of last episode: Death killing the Cabs and Team Sheldgoose. And as we see shortly. he wasn’t bluffing. We pick up with them in the underworld in a dmv line. My god.. it’s even worse of a beaurcrcy than Beetlejuice. Feldrake informs the cabs where they are and Donald, being Donald, dosen’t have the patience to wait in line with the bilions of souls down there, especially since the take a number thing gave them a number that needed to be printed on both sides.. and their at 4. Good gag though. So Donald storms out the moment he sees and exit and our boys head into the city of the Damned. Sheldgoose meanwhile decides to do his best Karen and demands ot speak with the manager.. whose another Sheldgoose it turns out. Uh-Oh. After the credits our boys explore the city and hoping not to get hit with more ghost cards, find shelter in a little tavern owned by none other than Clinton Coot, Donald’s Great-Grandpa and father of his grandmother Elvira Coot. Clinton initally mistakes the boys for their ancestors, and is disapionted in meeting donald, but once he learns their the ones that inehreted his Cabana, he’s exastic to meet and learn about them. We also learn he had a collection of fragile frontiersman figurines.. which cleverly, are all various versions of Scrooge from life and times. His second cowboy outfit from the side story “The Vigilante of Pizen Bluff”, his prospector outfit from “Terror of the Tranysval”, his klondike prospecter outfit and him finding the goose egg nugget from “King of The Klondike” and him bitterly hauling a sack of his loot into town from the same story. Also some palet swaps of all but the last one because animation is expensive. Panchito.. destroys them all while putting down his pIzza. “NOTHINGS BROKEN”. Clinton then invites the boys to have a sip of his memories, literally he drains some out and despite their relcutance the cabs take a chug. They reveal prettty much.. every nagging question about the cabana. Clinton, after finding out about his ancestor Duego Duck, the original cabs version of donald, Clinton traveled the world and the 7 seas, everybody’s looking for something.. and he was looking for every trace of the cabs, and their mysterious ally, who we know as Xandra. He gathered all of it, hence the massive collection of books and magical treasures in the cabana, eventually finding their hidden lair and building his cabana on top of it, founding New Quackmore with Sheldgoose’s own great grandmother.. who betrayed him and took the institute from him. His consolation prize was finding Ari and the atlas but he couldn’t open it like the boys and is curious what they found. I absolutely love this and while I feel Clinton’s history would’ve worked better as an overaching mystery, there were seeds for all of this planeted throughout the season, with Sheldgoose being in charge despite the name and Clinton being involved, Shelgoose’s mention a sheldgoose has always been president, and the tease last episode. Still would’ve liked MORE exploration and build up to this , but what we got was facenating upgrading Clinton from a footnote on the duck family tree, to a throughly loveable character: A guy who was so fascenated by his ancestor’s adventures he became an adventurer himself and who lovingly catalogued eveyrthing the guy and his friends ever did.. and had some heartrending reasons why we’ll get to.

As Jose leads in with not what but WHO, and likely tells clint about their adventures, a clever way to get that exposition out off screen, we cut back to the world of the living. Xandra is beating herself up, if not literally over things, and while the girls just suggest going to the underworld via zoom point, Xandra points out that won’t work. There’s only one way in: Charon, the greek ferryman of the dead.. and she realizes that’s exactly how, while the girls try a seance. I’ll just cover the séance stuff now. The girls hold a séance to summon the boys, finding some unfinished business (A piece of said pizza) and having ari dress like a fortune teller because eh why not. There’s some good gags and stuff, but it’s mostly plot irrelvant, only hurting Panchito’s brain at first, then summoning him just as their about to fight a Tengu, with humphrey eating the pizza finsihing the buisness. Not a bad plot at all and certainly refreshing after all the Daisy nonsense last episode, but nothing really important. Meanwhile let’s also get to Xandra’s subplot, which is both mroe relevant and funnier and again i’ll be covering all at once for convience. Xandra finds that the horn to summon Charon... is now a sax. Huh so THAT’S what pamela anderson’s character CJ was doing when she was introduced on baywatch.

Anyways turns out Charon’s reinvented the old boat and since Xandra’s an immortal he offers her a free ride. It’s now a cruise ship with him as the captain, voiced by voice acting legend Jim Cummings who does a fantastic job. The reasonings also brilliant: he wasn’t getting many WILLING souls with his creepy old setup, so he reinvinted things and now has a packed house, plenty of coins and a nonstop party. He even gives us an add for the buisness... this whole thing is fucking amazing and deserves to be praised and is the series at it’s best: taking something mythic and giving it some wacky but still clever tweaks. Xandra eventually gets annoyed as he isn’t going into the city so she can’t look for the cabs and takes the wheel, cursing her to be the captain now, but she just uses that to get in and finds clinton who agrees to guide her to the boys... we’ll get to where he guided them in a moment.

And that moment is now, Clinton tells the boys there is a way out, but it involves fighting the Tengu, which is misdentified as a falcon despite, even as someone with only a surface knowledge of yokai, I knew it’s modled after a crow, or at least some versions are as it turns out.. and so is the one here so how did they screw that one up?

Point is they need to get past it, and are on a timer as when the Creepy combination of jack skeltington and that moon from Majora’s mask that’s in the sky sets and night ends, their stuck. But first they run into a guard who says they have to fill out paperwork.. and his superior is intend on that, his superior being unsuprisingly sheldgoose, who got the gig since his family runs the afterlife. Oh goodie the rich also somehow run death....

But Donald decides FUCK PAPERWORK, throws it in the air and they run for it with Sheldgoose sicing the tengu on them, which looks awesome by the way. Panchito disappears as mentioned before just as they get a plan but returns in time to free his friends and they triumph.. only for Sheldgoose to not take this lying down and summon his entire family to kick their assses. So both sides power up: having learned the trick from clinton earlier, the cabs inflate.. part of their bodies while sheldgoose forms a voltron style fusion made up of his ancestor’s heads.. with the caveman as the crotch.

So a fight insues that’s fluid and beautifully animated, and Xandra even arrives to provide backup, with Charon relieving her because he’ could loose his five star rating. I hear you man I struggled just to get my island up to a four. So it becomes a gorgeously animated and awesome fight with Clinton joining inn, finally able to be one of his heroes. He also reitarates something he told donald, that it’s not the journey.. it’s who you take it with and part of his love of the cabs was never having companions like that. Donald takes it to heart and our heroes take their leave, Clinton finally having achieved his lifes’ work. They decide to see japan because why not. Maybe they’ll run into hannibal there.

And to tie things off, Shelgoose and Feldrake, whose spent the etnire epsidoe still in the staff depsite being dead and...

And find.. a demonic version of Donald in a devil costume, from that short with the devil and angel Donald's.. okay I have some questions.

He sends them back and we’re out

Final Thoughts for Mt. Fuji Whiz: One of the series best. It’s well paced, has an amazing concept and both sideplots have some form of relevance while being utterly hilarious, especially the charon one. Seriously best bit character of the series calling it now. Already headcanon him as part of the ducktales universe. Along with a lot of this actually. IT’s good stuff and despite the series falts episodes like this prove why it really needed, and still needs, a second season.

Thanks a Camelot:

Our heroes return to the land of the living with Xandra and to the Cabana, and while Donald wants to relax a bit, Xandra being an ass shoots that down. Though her reasons are valid: Feldrake has been stepping up his game with every scheme.. which is true. HIs last two schemes, not counting his post mortem one, only BARELY didn’t kill them and actually did kill them, and him too but that wasn’t on purpose. They need some good old fashioned hero training so Xandra’s taking the to king arthur and camelot, which of course are still around, to get it and since his training involves leaving everything behind, they leave htier weapons and other stuff behind including their amulets.. which haven’t come up since but are now since their important to the finale i’m guessing and they’ve been wearing the whole time. The girls are tagging along too as they want to document things because the plot says so but their entertaining so fine and leaving Ari and the Bear to guard. And the barrier.. more the barrier. So with our heroes off Feldrake decides they need to strike and Sheldgoose has a plan to get around the barrier to get Humphrey’s spark: hide inside a cake and have humphrey so overcome by his desire for cake he comes to them. Feldrake is unimpressed but it works.. and even better as he drags them in.. but apparently while Feldrake’s protections are keyed to our heroes bloodline.. coot’s only extneded to feldrake. Which makes sense: he was friends with a Sheldgoose and probably didn’t consider her an enemy till he’d already set the spells, and cleverly, and i’d forgotten this till writing this review: Sheldgoose has already BEEN on the Cabana grounds once and to the doorstep, in the first episode when he visited the yardsale and in the finale of the second when he showed up to give Donald his check. So the show even showed it.. we just didn’t think about it or assumed having the ring meant he couldn’t now. But nope Sheldgoose is inside and Humphrey’s knocked out.

Back in merry old Camelot, I apolgoize for having a deficit of spamalot and Monty Python refrences, our heroes meet King Arthur, voiced by former star of said spamelot John O’ Hurley, who I was going to give a good treatment and go into his career.. then I found out he’s VERY conservative, pro trump even post riot and generally kind of an ass in how he conducts himself soooo instead a hearty

Does a good job here, still a weasel fiesta. So King Arthur trains our heroes.. via motivational statments, trust falls and what not with his knights who get the same traning, one of which is Gallhad, a frog voiced by the same guy who viced Kermit on muppet babies. Yayyyyy. The girls wonder off, finding Merlin, whose busy with spells and such and clarfying which one is which. They give him june’s phone as Merlin has a video game addiction but Arthur forbids it because well. he has a problem why wouldn’t he. Ruined Todd Chavez’s life it did. I mean it’s exceptional now but it took a bit of living on a drunken horse with serious issues couch.

Anyways, Donald soon gets fed up because.. hes Donald. And because.. Tony kinda leans on the more classic constantly angry donald in this one, since he DID help write the lines. It’s not BAD mind you.. but I prefer the melding of his comics and shorts self other works did, the smug ego and everyman desperation to be noticed and liked from the comics mixed with the ego but also tons of rage of the shorts. Kinda like how Daffy had his own egotistical smartguy version merged with his screwball version for the Looney Tunes Show.. which i’ve been rewatching lately. Even better than I remember, highly underated.

My point is this Donald, as we approach the end .. isn’t for me. He’s just not as intresting as the cloudcuckoolander panchito or the smootha nd wise jose. He ballances them well, being the more direct angry one to panchito’s unpredicablity and Jose’s smooth compemplation. He’s not BAD, and i get why some would prefer this one over Ducktales, as he’s more in line with his classic characterzation.. but I just prefer a more nuanced Donald and this one isn’t it. He spends most of the series either complaning, pissed off, or pining for an ungreatful she demon. There’s not a lot of notes compared to Jose or Panchito, as Jose isn’t just a ladies man or a charmer but a fairly smart guy who has pretty damn good plans and Panchito isn’t just spacey but, kind brave and with his own moral code. They just got more fleshing out as things went and Donald didn’t and it’s disappointing.

So Donald gets fed up with the training, and calls out it’s only motivatoinal, with the other cabs agreeing, if more tactfully, and the knights.. also agreeing, pointing out King Arthur dosen’t even do his own goofy self motivational exercises and abandon him.. at the worst possible time as the girls conjur up a super powerful magical dragon. So the knights leave him to it and Arthur is too cowardly to face it. So the Cabs do what he won’t and charge in to defend the holy grail, called the grail of immortality here for ..r easons, and fight the dragon.. and Arthur joins them, inspired to finally get his groove back and gives the knights a rousing speech and even reconclies with donald. So our heroes fight the dragon and nearly die, before the rest of the round table pitches in, and the girls find the dragons scroll and impulsively burn it.. which destorys it. So the day’s saved, and Arthur apologizes to everyone and decides to give the boys proper combat training as thanks. Also we get a really funny bit with Merlin, who throws the phone into the fire.. and much like the dragon, apparenlty it was tied to the employee who activated it because he suddenly and horrifcly burns up. PFFT. Dark but beautfiul

But of course what about the Sheldgoose subplot. Well I saved that for now to cover it all at once SO: Sheldgoose pokes around, being annoyed by a dart board of his face and what not and tries to find something to fish the spark out with... but Ari finds him and proves to be entirely useful, beating Sheldgoose down into the treasure chamber and getting inot a fight with him. Sheldgoose holds pace.. until Humphrey wakes up and with the odds against him they throw him out. Meanwhile Feldrake zaps a dog that was going to get peed on him but when sheldgoose is ejegted is surronded by dogs and clearly didn’t escape as he dosne’t want to taklk about why he smells to sheldgosoe. He is ABOUT to berate him for failure again.. but Sheldgoose points out he swiped something more important: The amulets.

Proving once again Sheldgoose is the real power in the team.

Final Thoughts on Thanks a Camelot: This was a fun one. While finding out about John O Hurley was... unfortunte.. he does a decent job and the episodes a fun take on camelot with, as usual , really excellent gags, pacing and a hell of a fight scene with a dragon. Good stuff as usual

NEXT TIME; It all ends! It’s a visit to some yeti’s before one final dance betwen good and evil and one last set of episodes for this retropsective! Be ready!

#the legend of the three caballeros #jose carioca #panchito romero miguel junipero francisco quintero gonzalez #panchito pistoles #donald duck #may duck #june duck #april duck #xandra goddess of adventure #lord sheldrake #baron von sheldgoose #king arthur #charon #clinton coot #the three caballeros #disney plus

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hmgfanfic · 4 years

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Saw a reblog of yours from a bit ago but your tags "Fen is obviously sympathetic in theory but I have to *imagine it* rather than *feeling it*" are absolutely it exactly. It haunts me!!!

This is insanely late, I’m so sorry! Here is my belated answer, under the cut because I know Fen can be a sensitive topic, in all directions. Below is generally pro-Fen as a concept, but definitely critical of the writers’ take on her.

It haunts me too!!! The writers sowed the seeds of so many interesting things about Fen and so rarely followed up on them. Which is the TM writing credo, I know, but still. Ugh.

But, like, Fen is a character who’s completely defined by her circumstances in an extreme patriarchal world and she can’t ever really escape it, no matter what she does. Her arc should have been (and I think was intended to be) about her overcoming that within the structures available to her and emerging out the other side at peace and with purpose, if not fully self-actualized. It’s not exactly reinventing the wheel, re: feminist themes, but I think it’s something most people can recognize as sympathetic. And maybe more controversially, I even found it sympathetic that she was heartbroken when the husband who finally came for her—the man she was meant to serve and obey, the one she’d been told is was her sole purpose in life since birth—ended up being completely uninterested in her as a wife and a sexual partner without others being involved (which is true no matter how you view El’s sexuality. ) That’s... honestly devastating.

My issue, of course, comes from the particular way the show explored that devastation. Pretty much everything in S2 made me... only able to sympathize with her in theory. Basically, the sour taste started around the time I realized the show was putting blame on Eliot for not living up to something or not trying hard enough to make the marriage/their “family” a more traditional one. Like eventually the answer to Fen’s question, “Am I not enough for you?” should have been “Of course you are, darling.” Which is certainly... relatable as a queer person! Not in a good way, but it could have been an interesting starting point for conflict and an exploration of how to form a necessary partnership out of polar-opposite needs.

But it wasn’t written that way.

Instead, it was written to heavily suggest the audience was supposed to agree that Eliot was inherently a “shitty husband” and that his indifference to Fen sexually was him being shallow or that his fear of becoming a father was him being a deadbeat, rather than explicitly portraying Eliot as a freaked out, self-sacrificing young queer man who nearly always treated his magically-compulsory wife as kindly and fairly as he could, even when his entire world was nothing but turmoil. In reality, only thing he didn’t do was treat her like a romantic partner, which is because she wasn’t and that’s okay, considering everything. He tried his best in the face of absurdity. Which is—and should have been—equally sympathetic, but it wasn’t to these writers for some reason.*

(*Homophobia.)

And I think the most aggravating thing is, they almost won me over to Fen in S3! Especially the scene where she pragmatically explains to Eliot why she’s sticking around, which is was a squint-and-see-it thread of connection to my other favorite scene of hers, where in S2 she angrily acknowledges Eliot’s lack of attraction to her and refers to herself as a “realist.” I would have loved a Fen whose saccharine sweetness was as much a suit of armor as Margo’s harshness or Eliot’s insouciance. It gave her depth, it took her seriously, and it actually followed from the situation the writers should have been depicting all along, which was that they were two strangers who imperfectly tried to make the best of a terrible situation.

So I’ll never be sad for Fen because Eliot, specifically, wasn’t in love her or didn’t want a family with her; I was sad for Fen because every aspect of her circumstances sucked, from the patriarchal mores of Fillory to the fidelity magic, trapping her to someone who could decide to execute her on a whim. For a little while, it seemed like the show was finally starting to get that, but then it all disintegrated and Fen ended up further Flanderized.

Anyway, she deserved better [writing.]

#harri's hot takes #finally answering my asks! a day later than promised after weeks and weeks lol #thanks for your patience <3

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tiliamericana · 3 years

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Muay Thai: 1.13

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” said Agatha acidly as Nairi held the door to the pizza place open for her.

“I’m sorry,” said Nairi, no longer feeling particularly apologetic after a week of saying nothing but. “We’ll only be here for what, an hour? And then we can go.”

She didn’t love that she was already on edge. It was hardly the first time in her life that she was deliberately sitting down to spend a couple of hours with an unpleasant man, but it was still frustrating. She liked spending time with Agatha and Linden who were only occasionally frustrating, but they tended to get tense and catty with each other, and Nairi’s teeth were aching at the thought of dealing with that on top of Simon.

Well. They were usually catty, but when not talking about relationships they could be relied on to be friendly-catty rather than terse-catty.

Linden was sitting alone at one of the tall tables near the centre of the restaurant, and she waved at them as they approached, her smile wide. “Hey guys!” she said as Nairi sat down across from her, and if her smile was fake then she at least sounded pleased—or, well, relieved, at any rate.

“No boyfriend yet?” asked Agatha archly, sitting next to Nairi with a disapproving curve to her lips as their eyes met.

“He’s running late,” said Linden, clasping her hands together in front of her and making her bracelets jingle. “Promised he’d treat me to a nice big pie and dessert to make it up to me, though!”

“Nice of him,” said Nairi, snagging a complimentary breadstick, more out of habit than hunger.

“Very,” said Agatha, inspecting a menu without looking up.

Linden’s expression faltered. “Yeah,” she said anyway.

Nairi knocked their ankles together under the table in an attempt to reassure, and Linden flashed her a grateful look, the tension across her shoulders loosening a little. “Things are going well then?” she asked, pouring herself a glass of water and pushing the jug towards Agatha, who ignored her.

“As well as they can be,” said Linden, nodding a little too much, her bracelets jingling again. “I mean, things get bumpy occasionally, but we really haven’t known each other for long in like, the grand scheme of things. We already know we like each other, so we’re just feeling everything else out as we go.”

“Oh goodie,” muttered Agatha, pushing her glasses up her nose again before setting the menu down and joining the conversation. “Nick likes this one, then?”

Linden snorted. “Simon’s not that exceptional,” she said dismissively. “Nick thinks he’s too flaky.”

Agatha glanced at her watch conspicuously. “I wonderwhy.”

Linden gave her a sharp curve of a smile, darkly amused. “Look, that might be a dealbreaker for Nick, but he’s not the one dating him. I can handle a little flakiness, and besides, he’s working on it.”

“Is he working on anything else?”

“Yes,” said Linden, looking Agatha right in the eye. “Nick told me—I promise he won’t call you that ever again, I even slapped him around a little to make it stick.”

“Right,” said Agatha, unimpressed in the face of Linden’s humour. “Because if he does then I’m just going to leave. Why does he even talk like that in the first place?”

Linden wrinkled her nose. “It’s his masters, I swear, he spends his entire time with his nose up the ass of these old school poets, and then he like, forgets that language has changed in the last eighty years? It’s really annoying, he literally called me the ‘whore of Babylon’ the other day and then got offended when I told him to fuck off because I ‘didn’t get the compliment’.”

Nairi snorted.

“Oh! Such a catch! I suddenly understand why you’re so determined to make this relationship work,” drawled Agatha.

“It’s a better basis for a relationship than some I could name,” said Linden snidely, narrowing her eyes across the table.

Damn, Agatha’s last boyfriend must have been a real piece of work. “There’s always going to be worse relationships out there,” said Nairi diplomatically. “And I mean, people are even meeting and dating on the internet these days, everything starts somewhere.”

“Exactly,” said Linden, relaxing a little with a grin. “That’s a bad basis, we all know the internet’s for porn and arguing with strangers.”

“And LOLcats, don’t forget those,” said Agatha, nodding at her.

“How could I?” said Linden, her grin widening.

Nairi was saved from having to ask what the fuck a ‘LOLcat’ was by Simon’s arrival. “Hello ladies,” he said breezily, draping his coat over the back of the free chair with a waft of eau-de-cigarette over the table. He leaned in and kissed Linden’s cheek from behind before sitting. “Hello babe, sorry I’m late, transport was a bit of an issue.”

“You’re fine,” said Linden, smiling indulgently at him as he sat. “Just gave us time to work up an appetite.”

Thankfully, the process of deciding on pizzas and drinks, and then the conveying all of that information to the waitress meant that Nairi didn’t have to speak directly to Simon. It also meant that he didn’t try to speak with Agatha, who was coolly ignoring him from across the table with a total lack of eye contact that veered dangerously close to the border between ‘civility’ and ‘rudeness’.

Once the food actually arrived however, she was out of luck.

Pretty much every pizza on the menu that wasn’t explicitly vegetarian had some kind of bacon or ham or pork-based sausage in its toppings, so there wasn’t any quibbling or half-and-halfing on the one Nairi was sharing with Agatha. Simon, however, had ordered without asking Linden, which she’d ignored, much the same way she’d ignored Agatha’s quiet snort at him doing so. Nairi was about ninety percent certain Linden didn’t even like green peppers.

“So,” said Simon brightly, gesturing across the table with his wine glass. “How have you two been this week? Anything exciting?”

Agatha took an enormous bite of pizza and chewed loudly, glancing at Nairi. Nairi sighed internally and lowered her own slice to answer him. “Not terribly exciting. Work, mostly.”

“That’s right,” he said, chewing obnoxiously and giving Nairi a chance to start eating. Next to him, Linden was carefully tugging peppers off the surface of her pizza. “Lindy said you did some kind of fighting thing, right? MMA? Kickboxing? Sweaty punch ups in sports bras?”

“…I teach judo,” said Nairi eventually. “Early days at my dojo, I don’t have a lot of students yet, I’m afraid. Uh, Agatha’s working on a paper at the moment though, that’s a bit more interesting.”

“Really? What’s it about?” asked Simon, turning both his attention and his chewing maw towards Agatha.

“Diatomic elements,” said Agatha shortly. “It’s just about nucleics, I’m not reinventing the wheel or anything.”

Simon stared at her blankly. “Oh, of course. Uh, I’m afraid I’m not familiar, is your field—?”

“Chemistry,” supplied Agatha, turning her attention back to her dinner. “My PhD was on inorganic, but I’m still in the process of post-doc applications so I’m mostly twiddling my thumbs and writing contributions in the meanwhile.”

“Right,” said Simon, his face showing a total lack of comprehension. “Academia’s a lot like that, terribly stiff in the paperwork and appropriateness departments. The right body of work and all that—I know exactly how it feels, I was going to do my thesis on the erotic underpinnings of Virginia Woolf’s work and the reflection of her relationship with her husband, but my advisor was really very pushy about playing it safe and sticking to Eliot’s body of work in the immediate post-war era.”

“Oh yes, much safer,” said Agatha with no inflection in her tone.

Simon laughed loudly, leaning back in his chair and taking another long drink of his wine. “You know, Lindy said you had a sense of humour, and I must confess I didn’t quite believe her at first! Mistakes all around.”

He punctuated this with a conspiratorial wink across the table at her, though Nairi didn’t quite understand what was so funny about it. At a glance, neither did Agatha or Linden. Linden actually looked… embarrassed? It was only for a second, the expression gone almost as soon as Nairi noticed it, Linden covering the bottom half of her face with her glass as she took a sip.

“So how long have you two lovebirds been dating anyway?” Simon continued, not even glancing at Linden next to him with her small pile of peppers or his ignored slice of pizza on the plate in front of him.

“A few months,” said Nairi, her own dinner looking more unappetising by the second. “Since September, I think?”

“That’s about right,” said Agatha, the lines around the corners of her eyes easing as she glanced at Nairi. “Five or six months now.”

“Charming,” said Simon, polishing off his wine, smile bright and enthusiastic as he gestured. “You know I’ve always greatly enjoyed the figure of the lesbian, in real life as well as literature. Excising the men from the bed and the home—it’s always so representative of the purest form of womanhood, really illuminates the truth of femininity. And the politics of it! The ultimate commitment to the feminist ideal, the usurpation of the patriarchy from its most foundational stronghold in the home at the head of the family. Really brilliant stuff!”

Agatha’s eyebrows were somewhere around her hairline.

Linden laughed awkwardly, nudging Simon as she leaned in a little over her plate. “Well, I mean, it’s always gonna be a bit different from books, hun. People are people, real life is always more, uh—”

“Oh yes, yes, of course,” said Simon dismissively, nodding at her. “And writers have a tendency to exaggerate and eroticise that type of relationship as well.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that kind of relationship?” asked Agatha, tone sharp.

Nairi tensed as Simon opened his mouth and started bloviating again. Linden swallowed whatever she was going to say, giving up and quietly eating instead, leaning on one elbow.

Simon’s phone buzzed loudly, and he took a second to check it while Agatha sucked down on the straw in her water glass through her furious, pinched expression.

“Oh, I’m so sorry ladies,” he said, standing up as he punched a few buttons on his phone. “I have to run. I have thoroughlyenjoyed this discussion though, especially with you Miss Davids, we’ll have to do this again sometime—”

“Doctor,” corrected Agatha.

“Oh, that’s right, very good, attagirl!” said Simon breezily as he tugged his coat on, and a muscle in Agatha’s jaw visibly twitched.

“Oh, Si, really?” said Linden, frowning at him anxiously as he kissed her cheek. “But we were gonna go get ice cream af—”

“Really?” said Simon, with a piss-poor attempt at a surprised look. “I didn’t think so, babe, I had plans. There’s no need to end the night just because I’m leaving though! You should all have some fun, I’ll see you later, and I promise I’ll catch the next cheque!”

He was already walking away as he spoke, hand raised in farewell even as Linden opened her mouth in dismay. “Wait, Si, I can’t—and he’s out. Great.” She slumped in her seat as the door swung shut across the room and gave them a glum sort of smile. “Sorry guys, I kind of thought that would go better.”

“Really?” said Agatha under her breath, covering it with the movement of setting her glass down.

Nairi ignored it. “I mean, it’s not exactly your fault—” Agatha snorted “—do you want me to grab you a pizza you actually like?”

Linden gestured at Simon’s largely untouched pizza with an eyeroll. “No, I’ll live. Already gonna have to pay for this one.”

“I’ve got it,” said Nairi, tugging her wallet out. “May as well just pay for everything while I’m up. Do you want something a bit cheesier?”

Linden looked at her for a moment, expression unreadable, and then something in her relaxed and her mouth twitched into a wry smile. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Agatha turned her head as Nairi left the table, saying something she couldn’t quite hear. Her tone sounded dry rather than snappish, so Nairi didn’t think too hard about it. She got them another round of drinks while she was sorting out the extra pizza as well—it would probably go a ways to easing Agatha’s temper and cheering Linden up.

From the looks of things when she returned to the table though, they’d managed to have an argument in the few minutes she’d been gone.

“Better food and new drinks on the way,” she said, sliding into her seat and pretending she couldn’t see the angry twist in Linden’s lips, or the clenched tension in Agatha’s hands.

“Awesome,” said Linden, flashing her a sunny, fake smile as Agatha scoffed. “You know, I was just saying to Aggy that since this turned out to be such a bust that maybe we should try having a girl’s night instead, you know? Just us, maybe with Flo too.”

“Oh yeah,” said Nairi mildly, gently pressing the back of her hand against Agatha’s on the tabletop. “What did you have in mind?”

#serial fiction #series honey tree #book muay thai #113

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catboymingi · 4 years

Text

reinventing - in this life and the next chap. 2

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst; soulmates & reincarnation au

word count: 6k

warnings: language, dealing with loss & grieving

a/n: please excuse if this one’s not very good, i’ve had a lot on my mind but i also wanted to continue this :(( also it says angst for the genre near constantly but it’s not all sad, it’s just not cute enough to warrant fluff yet!

memories aren’t all that defines you - the two of you have to learn this in different ways

for a moment, it felt like she was back. mingi’s head jolted up to look in the direction of whoever had called for him, but quickly let it sink again when he saw it wasn’t her. he didn’t think much of you knowing his name, guessing that yunho had told you, but both the blond and you were surprised. you were fairly certain that you hadn’t been told his name, so how did you know it? why were you so happy to see the man you’d never met before? why did the hopeful look in his eyes as he looked up at you make your heart skip a beat? you hadn’t felt like this even about your family, so why did a stranger affect you like this? it was weird, it didn’t make sense, and it caused you to feel a strange mixture of unexplained comfort and much more logical discomfort around the man.

“mingi.” he could barely even stand to look at you when he held out his hand for you to shake it.

“y/n.” and you could barely even stand to shake his hand. you didn’t like the way it felt, big and warm and familiar, as if you’d held it countless of times before. you didn’t like mingi, or the way he made you feel. you didn’t like yourself, because you knew you shouldn’t be feeling this way about a man who’d just lost the love of his life, when you hadn’t even been able to feel anything towards your family. you didn’t like this entire situation and just wanted to go back home, but you couldn’t, you had to be nice to these people because they were responsible for whether or not you’d end up on the streets.

“this is the main tenant”, yunho tried to end the awkward tension, and you nodded in acknowledgment, hand dropping back to your side. though you couldn’t help your curiosity - did you know this man? you’d accepted not getting any memories back, but now that you felt even the slightest hint of familiarity with him and his place you wanted to hold on to it, wanted to find out more, wanted to know if maybe there was a way to remember if not who you were, then who he was.

“do i know you?” and first then did he look back up at you, eyeing you up and down to see if he maybe did, and again you felt weird when you saw his eyes.

“not that i remember. do you know me?” his voice was so beautiful, you wanted him to keep talking.

“i wish i knew.”

now you had his curiosity, the weird girl with the bright hair in contrast to the all-black attire that had been so understanding of all the weird fears and rules he had and that now looked at him with such a weird expression. you’d sat down by now, opposite him, nervously fiddling with your hands, and though he maybe shouldn’t try to dig in your past when he’d been so scared you might dig in his you left him wanting to know a little more.

“you wish you knew?” this question left you the option to say as much or as little as you wanted to, something he felt to be a fair compromise.

“i don’t remember. it’s a little embarrassing because i feel like i do know you, but then it could also just be me hoping to.”

he nodded, not much clearer about you, but you continued by yourself since you realised how you might have come across.

“that sounds like bad flirting, sorry, i don’t mean it that way. i just have really bad amnesia. wouldn’t remember my name if it wasn’t on my id, so it’s weird that i knew yours.”

“i thought yunho told you?”

first now did the tall blond say anything.

“i don’t think i did”, and you nodded in confirmation because you were fairly certain that he hadn’t.

“so obviously i got a little excited. sorry if i was staring all weird though.”

“no, i get it. don’t worry about it.” then, though he didn’t know why he even cared, why he even wanted to know, “may i ask what happened?”

“i was really sick, i guess. or, i know i was, but i don’t remember that either. died for four minutes, came back by some miracle. and apparently the price i had to pay for getting rid of whatever autoimmune disease caused this was not remembering anything at all. so here i am.”

mingi recognised the coldness in your voice, the complete lack of emotion. it was the same voice he used when he tried to convince himself that he was fine, that things didn’t affect him even though he wanted nothing more than to cry. and because he knew that voice he put his hand on your forearm instinctively in an attempt to offer some comfort.

“i’m sorry to hear that.”

and he recognised your reaction, too, when you told him it wasn’t a big deal, that it could be worse, because it was what he tried telling himself day after day as well.

“but does it have to be?”

you looked at the man surprised, because he was the first one that had ever said something like this ever since you woke up. everyone else told you it could be worse, tried to cheer you up by saying it could be worse instead of acknowledging the hurt the current situation was causing you. and now someone that did have it worse was telling you that it didn’t have to be worse to deserve his compassion.

“i guess not.” you nearly caused yunho a heart attack when you smiled at mingi, a shy, somewhat awkward smile, and the corners of his mouth moved upwards as well. it barely even counted as a smile, in all honesty, but it was the closest to a smile that the blond had seen from his friend in months.

it wasn’t something you noticed, though, because your eyes were trained on his hand on your forearm and you were trying to sort out the weird feelings of familiarity you had despite him telling you he didn’t know you. none of it made any sense, and you really weren’t sure whether this was even good. whether you should be sitting here with him, feeling weird, feeling, when that wasn’t something you’d done for weeks now. you were torn between leaving because it was the more sensible choice and what you really wanted to do because the thought of getting any memory back scared you, in some way, left you afraid of not liking what you remembered, and staying because it was polite and because they might kick you out if you acted weird, and you’d neither fount a flat nor a job yet. you had to stay.

both your and mingi’s smiles had faded just a moment after first appearing, each of you stuck in their own thoughts, and yunho felt a little like a third wheel in a really bizarre kind of relationship based on the trauma of losing an integral part of yourself. the two of you had suffered more than he could even imagine, so a tense atmosphere was understandable, but he felt weird, slightly uncomfortable, so he forcibly brought you back to reality when he asked if you wanted to drink something.

“just a water.”

the tall blond was relieved when he could go and fetch you a water, glad to be able to at least momentarily leave the situation. he had no idea what weird thing was going on, but he had a very clear feeling that he wasn’t part of it. and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be, either.

mingi felt weird, too. it seemed like there was no one at this table that wasn’t able to feel that something wasn’t quite how it should be, but none of you knew what it was.

he was strangely intrigued by you, though, the girl that seemed to know him, in some way, without remembering him. the girl that seemed to have a story not even she could remember. he felt sorry for you, of course he did, but there was also something else. a genuine interest in you, or at least something close to it. a curiosity. and he didn’t know whether this was because he wanted to talk to someone that he felt could relate, at least partly, to losing someone - or something - so dear to them, or if it was about you as a person. it was confusing and left him slightly uneasy, though not to the same degree that you felt. for him, the curiosity was stronger, while you just wanted to run.

“how old are you?”

it was a horribly awkward attempt at small talk, and it was made even more awkward when you didn’t even seem to know, getting out your wallet to check on your id. it hadn’t come up in conversation before, and while it was easy to tell that you were a young adult “somewhere between 18 and 23, i guess” wasn’t exactly the answer you’d expect for this question.

“seems like i’m almost twenty. you?”

“twenty-one. i’m sorry if i’m prying into things that are none of my business, but is there anything you remember?”

he knew how hurtful talking about things like these could be, so he wanted to be one hundred percent sure you knew you didn’t have to talk about this if you didn’t want to. but you didn’t know if you wanted to - part of you did, but another part wanted to bury the anxiety and the feeling of loss deep down and pretend it wasn’t there. there wasn’t really anything else to talk about, though, so this would have to do.

“i remember a lot, actually, but only common knowledge. i know about hanja, history, current politics, things like that, but i don’t know about myself. it kind of feels like my personality got rebooted.”

you let out a bitter mixture of a scoff and a laugh at that, and while you seemed to think it wasn’t a big deal to you, tried to joke about it, he could tell that you were trying to distance yourself from the pain that would take over otherwise. he knew, and he understood. so he decided to just nod in acknowledgment, not wanting to upset you further.

lucky for both of you yunho returned with your water, and he was better at making small talk than both you and mingi combined. he asked how you liked the flat, what you did during your days, if there was anything that needed touching up on, a lot of questions that could lead to deeper conversation if you wanted them to but could also be answered shortly and shallowly. it was thanks to him that you weren’t just sitting in awkward silence after five minutes.

“i wanted to say thanks”, the other man suddenly spoke up, and when you looked all surprised - what did he have to thank you for? he was the one letting you live in his home - he elaborated.

“yunho told me that you barely seem to touch anything.”

it hadn’t occurred to you that this was something to warrant thanking, but to him it very much was. it probably meant more to him than you not stealing (if you’d be stealing something that didn’t hold any memories), because physical things could be replaced, but all these memories, all these reminders, couldn’t be.

“of course. i’m glad i have a place to stay at all.”

again, your reply left him curious - did you not have a family that would take you in when you were obviously, objectively in a vulnerable position? but it wasn’t his place to ask.

the entire afternoon felt awkward, and you were glad when it was over. they hadn’t been rude, quite the opposite, but it hadn’t been comfortable because you could so clearly tell that they wanted to ask more and that they weren’t sure how far they could go in their prying, because you felt out of place, because you wished you could make small talk about hobbies or similar but you weren’t able to remember anything so you didn’t have anything to talk about. it had made you feel both weirdly in focus and left out at the same time, so when yunho said they should probably leave soon you almost sighed in relief. they were nice, objectively, so it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be around them, just… in a different set up, maybe. and for less time. this had felt forced, and you hadn’t been a fan of forced communication for as long as you could remember. ha ha.

you went home immediately after saying goodbye, feeling like you needed to recharge. you had no idea why it had left you so drained, but it was most likely both the tense atmosphere and the reminder of how little you knew about yourself even now. the fact that you’d had to check your id for your age had left you more shaken up than you’d like to admit, and you wanted a shower.

the hot water managed to relax you at least physically, but you found yourself disappointed by the fact that you didn’t own any soft pyjamas, because right now they would have been nicer than an old t-shirt and sweatpants. but this would have to do, especially since you were planning on taking a nap, anyway, and once you were asleep it wouldn’t exactly matter what you wore. before you entered the land of dreams you decided to check your phone, however, and saw that yunho had tried to call you several times. you guessed you should probably call him back, just to find out what was up.

“hey”, you heard yunho’s voice from the other end, though he sounded somewhat different, voice coloured by an emotion you couldn’t place because you hadn’t heard anyone sound like that in so long. you didn’t recognise the sound of happiness anymore.

“hi.”

“you got home safely?”

“yeah, thank you. i took a shower, sorry for not picking up.” the several attempts to reach you had made you a little anxious, so you weren’t sure what more to say, but lucky for you the man quickly told you the reason for his call.

“i’ve just been wondering how you felt about meeting mingi?”

that explained it; of course he was curious, you’d be too if you were him. and this gave you the perfect opportunity to say what you wanted to say, what conclusion you’d come to pretty much immediately after leaving the little café, because the way you felt wasn’t a way you wanted to keep feeling, and you knew you would if you found yourself in a situation awkward like that again.

“it wasn’t bad, but i don’t think i want to repeat that.”

mingi knew you didn’t know he was listening, so that explained why you weren’t at all hesitant to say this, but he couldn’t help but feel a little worried, a little disappointed. it did sound a lot like you didn’t want to meet him again at all, and he could tell that his friend was looking at him with a slight nervousness, because even though he didn’t know what the deal was with him now today had been the first time in months that the tall brunette seemed… alive, for lack of a better word. a secret part of the blond had hoped that you’d maybe manage to pull mingi out of his slump, but that wouldn’t happen if you’d never even want to meet him again.

“oh. yeah, that’s fair. i can continue sorting things, it’s worked so far?” even that was a question, because it hadn’t seemed like meeting the other man had gone bad either, but here you were.

“you sound like that’s a question?” now all three of you were confused, because you hadn’t realised that you sounded like you wanted your newest acquaintance to stay as far out of your life as possible - you’d just wanted to say that meeting up with both of them had you feeling weird, because they knew what to talk about and you felt a little out of place. much like yunho had felt earlier, except you didn’t know that.

“i’m just wondering if you’d rather i didn’t come over anymore either, when you’re there, at least.”

“oh! oh, no that wasn’t what i meant. it was just the… atmosphere today. i felt a little odd, like i didn’t have anything to talk about while you and mingi had dozens of topics, kind of. very third grade of me but i felt like i wasn’t supposed to be there, but it’s not that i have anything against him, or you.”

both men were pleasantly surprised by how straight-forward you were about this. it wouldn’t have been odd if you’d chosen to make excuses or beat around the bush, but you’d just said it as it was, something that was very appreciated because it made working with you (if you could call renting an apartment that) a lot easier.

“i’m sorry it felt that way, it definitely wasn’t how we meant it. it’s probably just hard when you and mingi haven’t met before, i guess?”

you hummed in confirmation on the other end, and yunho continued: “he said if you want he could message you, so if something’s wrong and you can’t reach me maybe he can help.”

“sure.”

why mingi felt relieved by that and by you not having a problem with him personally might forever remain a mystery, but for now he simply pushed it to the back of his head as he listened to the last little bit of small talk yunho made with you, deciding to take a shower himself before he’d message you later.

you decided to take a nap right after the call, the much desired nap you’d meant to take as soon as you got out of the shower, knocking out immediately after your head hit the pillow. your dreams were odd, flashes of images and colours and feelings that you couldn’t remember as soon as you woke up, but they left you about as exhausted mentally as you’d been before. at least your body felt rested, though.

as you went to grab some water you casually checked your phone for the time (22:32 - your nap had turned into a deep several-hour sleep) and found that mingi had already messaged you more than three hours ago. it didn’t seem urgent, though, so you didn’t feel too bad when you opened the chat first now, when you couldn’t even be sure if he was still awake.

[unknown]: hi, it’s mingi.

[unknown]: yunho gave me your number - hopefully that was okay.

his way of typing was so serious that you felt somewhat unsure about what the appropriate style would be as you replied - you didn’t like full stops, something you had quickly noticed as you’d re-entered the human realm, but you didn’t want to be too casual. before now you hadn’t even known that it was possible to be insecure about your typing style.

[y/n]: don’t worry, it’s fine

[y/n]: sorry, i was asleep

he obviously knew that this was your number, so you didn’t repeat your name again seeing how there very much was no need to and it would be somewhat awkward. instead you locked your phone, taking your assigned glass and emptying it in one go before refilling it and doing the same, and a third time, before you felt somewhat nauseous from drinking so much so fast. the water was nice and cold and managed to calm whatever nerves you’d got from the weird dreams, so you refilled the glass only to hold on to it. the room was dark, you hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but you liked this, liked the calm atmosphere that was created by the room being illuminated by the moon and the stars only. and your phone screen, as it lit up with a new message.

[mingi]: it’s no problem. did you sleep well?

you set down the glass in order to reply, unsure whether or not to be surprised that he was still awake. then again, he had his own demons that probably kept him up at night, and insomnia was no stranger to you.

[y/n]: not exactly, but i slept

that was your standard by now; you’d given up on expecting to sleep well, but if you managed to get more than an hour per night that was already a success in your book. and while this hadn’t exactly been night it still counted. you couldn’t be too picky, or your sleeping habits would sound even more pathetic than they already did.

[mingi]: fair. yunho told me about the call.

he didn’t have to tell you that he’d been there eavesdropping on you, though it probably wasn’t eavesdropping exactly since his friend had put you on speaker.

[mingi]: i’m sorry for making you feel excluded. i didn’t realise we did that.

[y/n]: it’s no issue, really, don’t worry about it

[mingi]: i hope so.

silence - or the texting equivalent of it - for about a minute, before another message popped up, one that took you by surprise.

[mingi]: i was wondering if you’d like to meet again, in a less third-wheel setting?

you grinned - this was the first time his texting had seemed even somewhat like you’d expect someone his age to text.

as soon as the message was sent mingi was inclined to delete it again, because there was a somewhat high chance that you’d think it was awkward, weird or uncomfortable. the motivation to ask had come from yunho, who had managed to convince his friend that meeting up with people would be good for him, and since you were quite literally living in his apartment it might be good to get to know you a little. he hadn’t said it, but he was still thinking about the smile-adjacent expression he’d seen on the brunette’s face earlier, and if you managed to bring forth a real smile the blond might just have to marry you. he hoped you would. mingi deserved it, deserved to find at least some joy in life again, though it would never be the same; he knew it would never be the same.

waiting for your reply felt quite bad; he had no idea what to expect, whether you would be entirely opposed or not, and it made him nervous. he had no reason to be, though, he realised when your reply finally appeared.

[y/n (tenant)]: if you have a place in mind? it might be nice

there was only one problem: he didn’t. he had no idea what you liked to do (and neither did you), and he’d stopped liking to do things months ago, so it didn’t exactly leave a lot of options that he could guarantee were less awkward than today had been. he rummaged through his brain for ideas, but the only ones he got were things he’d done on dates with her, and those were most definitely out of the question.

[mingi]: i’ll try to think of something.

rather, yunho would. or at least he’d probably be the one to come up with something decent, as opposed to mingi, whose brain was trained on a café or maybe the movies, neither of which were any less awkward than today’s predicaments.

“yunho?”

the tall blond appeared almost immediately, still constantly scared that his friend was on the verge of another breakdown when he heard him call for him. he was relieved, though, when the other man didn’t seem like he was going to cry anytime soon, steps slowing down when he was sure hurry wasn’t needed.

“what’s up?”

now the brunette just had to figure out how to ask for advice without making a fool of himself. he knew the other had been the one to suggest meeting up with you in the first place, but he still felt like he was cheating on her, in a way. moving on too fast, even though he was far from. he was scared that coming out of his shell, even if only a little bit, would give people the wrong impression. he felt guilty for even having the chance to continue and to get over it when she never ever would be given a chance like that.

“what’s a non-awkward non-date place to meet up with y/n?”

yunho was most definitely surprised, but he tried not to show it. he didn’t want to make mingi feel like he was judging, because it was the opposite; he was happily surprised, glad that his friend seemed willing to resume life that was neither work nor the apartment he’d moved into now. so he tried to come up with something, because it probably was easier for him to do when he hadn’t had the girlfriend attachment to her and was more objectively able to tell what could be misunderstood as a date.

“do you know what y/n does in her free time?” he guessed that would be a good starting point.

“she said she doesn’t have any hobbies. that’s what makes this so hard.”

nods in acknowledgment, humming while trying to think of anything the two of you could do. then, the figurative lightbulb lit up above his head.

“you could find a hobby together? i’d guess she needs one, and i think it’d be good for you, too.”

the slightly shorter male had half expected the idea to be bad, but was surprised when it seemed like an actually good one. it would be a way to have something to do not just once, but also if you decided to meet up more than this once, and even if not you’d have some use from it.

“i guess that would work. thanks, yunho.” and though he couldn’t expect a smile from his friend yunho knew that if the situation had been any more like even just six months ago mingi would’ve beamed at him.

you hadn’t expected your somewhat-landlord to message you today again, but since you weren’t able to sleep anyway you might as well reply already.

[mingi]: i found some things we could try. tell me what you think?

[mingi]: //link// //link// //link// //link//

the first link took you to a dancing studio’s prices page, stating at the top that the first lesson would be free if you decided to see if this was for you. the second was the volunteer page of an animal shelter, the third a book club which had its meetings every friday (it was tuesday, you noted when you checked the date on your phone), and the fourth was a pottery class, which made a small smile appear on your face. it was obvious he’d just looked for whatever options that you’d be able to start relatively soon, and you found it nice of him that he’d put in the effort to look for these things.

[y/n]: dancing or animals seems best to me, what do you think?

[mingi]: glad you picked those

and though he hadn’t used any indicator of his mood other than the absence of the full stops that had been taunting you you were glad, because it seemed like he’d warmed up even a little.

[y/n]: i should sleep now i guess, just tell me where and when? it’s not like i’d have big plans to cancel

it was a bad attempt at joking, but at least you’d tried. it was all you were capable of in your sorry tired state - it was closer to one than it was to midnight now, and your body was complaining. that meant it was most definitely time to go to sleep.

you hadn’t missed much, either, you saw the next morning, because the only message mingi had sent after that was him saying he’d call the next day (so, today) and ask when you were free to come, and sending a goodnight. you didn’t bother to reply, seeing how it was six in the morning and he most likely wasn’t up yet and, even if he was, how he wouldn’t be able to call any place before a few hours had passed. you decided to spend those listening to music and overthinking your life, your greatest (and only) hobby.

mingi woke up around nine and once more asked yunho for advice as he tried to decide whether or not meeting you today already would be too soon, and his friend gave him the quite obvious advice to just ask about several days at the places he’d call and offer you the option to choose. the brunette did feel somewhat socially inept, but who could blame him, really? he’d near exclusively talked to either his current flatmate or the people at work for months now, hadn’t tried to form any new contacts in who even knew how long. he had the right to be socially inept.

both the dancing studio and the pet shelter seemed like they were glad he’d called, and while he was free to come to the shelter whenever the dancing place offered him a time on this day and the next two, and told him to just call again if none of those fit. he thanked the man on the other end of the line and hung up, messaging you as long as he still remembered the times given.

[mingi]: dancing is today at 3, tomorrow at 2 or thursday at 3 again. the shelter said we can come whenever

[mingi]: what fits best?

his friend forced him to get breakfast while he waited for your reply, claiming that he wouldn’t let him leave if he didn’t at least try to get some nutrition. that threat hadn’t been very effective for ages now, but he still tried day after day, and today it actually worked. though mingi wasn’t pleased he did eat a single piece of toast, frowning all the while, but what counted was that he did it. the blond didn’t know how you’d done it, but you’d dragged mingi back to the realm of the living. yunho most definitely would have to marry you.

[y/n (tenant)]: all are fine, we could do today? you pick

[mingi]: okay, so today at 3? you got the address, it’s on their website

and when you confirmed the plans mingi genuinely did feel alive again, even if just for a moment. you hadn’t been the only one completely gone since the day both of your fates had changed so drastically, but now it seemed like at least he was returning.

the time passed somewhat fast, because you realised you didn’t have food left at home, so you showered, got dressed, picked out your dancing outfit - the only pair of sweatpants you had that wasn’t your pyjamas plus one of your tighter shirts because you knew you’d hate the fabric flapping around you -, and then left to get some cheap lunch at the first place you’d see on your way to the dancing studio. you didn’t mind waiting, so it wouldn’t matter if you were early - which you inevitably were.

“hey”, mingi greeted you when he arrived, and then, because you didn’t seem like you’d arrived just a few minutes before him, “have you been waiting for long?”

“it’s fine”, you told him, “not much difference between listening to music here and listening to music on the couch.” and you smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes because you once more realised how fucking sad your life had become. not even just since you moved out (an euphemism for ‘ran away’, but same thing) but ever since you woke up the way you were now. you had no hobbies, you had no friends, you had no personality.

“let’s go.” you didn’t want to think about this, certain that the man would be able to read your expression if you didn’t get distracted, and soon.

the atmosphere in the studio was nice and sweaty, a weird combination of attributes, but true nonetheless. people were either dancing or smiling, and you felt comfortable. you’d probably like it here. the brunette sorted whatever there was to sort for your practice lesson and then a friendly-looking guy showed you some stretches, basic moves, things to warm you up and get you some feeling for how this worked without overwhelming you. you couldn’t speak for mingi, but you definitely enjoyed this. maybe you’d finally have a hobby soon, a real one.

“how’d you like it?”, he asked you after the lesson was over, and you furrowed your brows. it was a hard question to answer - you had liked it, no question, but you were constantly wondering if your actual you, the you you were supposed to be, would have liked it, and if you were right in liking it or if it was out of character for you. it made your head spin.

your silence didn’t go unnoticed, making the tall man worry a little.

“what’s wrong?” maybe he shouldn’t pry, but if it was a problem with him he’d rather know right away.

“i’m just kind of worried i’m being out of character. what if i actually hate dancing? what if i’m acting wrong? or, completely odd, i guess. not like myself. whoever that is.”

he nodded, seeming to understand your concerns, and because it was him you felt like he maybe actually could understand, on some level.

“tell me if i’m crossing a line”, he started, “but if you don’t know who you are, what you’re like… why don’t you just invent a new one? reinvent yourself? so being out of character is an active choice. i don’t know.”

that was a surprisingly good idea. there probably was no way you’d remember who you used to be, but that didn’t mean you had to be stuck being an empty form. you’d already feared you wouldn’t even like your past you, so just becoming a whole new one might possibly, hopefully, solve this problem. solve your ongoing identity crisis.

“maybe i should.”

“maybe.” and there it was again, the almost-smile, the one neither of you consciously noticed but that had both of you feeling some kind of way. it wasn’t anything romantic, neither of you were in the place for that, but it was… comfort. the feeling of not being as alone in the world as you thought you were.

you parted ways soon after, though now you were left with a purpose that drove you to yet another new place with your phone in your hand. he’d told you you needed to reinvent yourself if you didn’t want to wait to get the old you back, and he’d been right. you had subconsciously already done that when you went from looking like a neat schoolgirl to looking like a punk that hasn’t yet figured out how this works, wardrobe being reformed to be near-exclusively black or other dark colours, hair a contrastingly bright colour, and you figured now it was time for the next step. the next step being an appointment at a piercing studio that had offered you the option to come over right away and a decent price, kind of like a bulk discount because you’d called and told them you wanted five helix and two nostril piercings (go big or go home), something that had surprised them a little, but they weren’t complaining. they’d told you that if the pain got too bad at any point you could just book a new appointment, and you’d acknowledged that option, though you were rather sure you wouldn’t need that.

and now here you were, in front of the tattoo parlour, about to create a new you. about to reinvent yourself.

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gothgirlmahi · 4 years

Text

All That’s Best Chapter Six

Dark!Steve x Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: non con, dub con

Steve had no idea how long he had been here. If he had to guess, it had been a week at least, probably more. The lack of sunlight or any other daily cues left him constantly wondering. He lived with no routine. Even your presence wasn’t guaranteed on any given day. But when you were there, you made sure he would never forget. There were times he would black out from the pain you inflicted on him and every time he passed out he went into the darkness knowing he deserved it. You didn’t even want information from him. You were humiliated and hurting from what he had done and wanted to hurt him back.

He was no sadist but the way you touched him drove him mad. Even the way your dug your knife across the hard planes of his chest had him yearning for you when you left. He knew he was a goner and sick for what he had done to you. But didn’t he deserve his happy ending after all he did? After all he gave for the world? And now here he was so absolutely in love with you that he could barely stand to lay here and banter with you and call you names he didn’t really mean. Sure he was angry, he was pissed.

You had set him up. Or maybe he had set himself up. Your mission, as he was starting to assume, was just to get close to him, start a relationship with him. His personal mission was to make you his in every way, make you his wife and the mother of his children because that was what he deserved.

Even in your torture of him, he still loved you. A stupid part of him held out hope that this was a dream or that somehow someway things would work out. He knew you were only human. Of course you wanted revenge. Steve had taken your freedom and your dignity in a matter of hours and expected obedience. Now he was reaping the rewards of his efforts.

When you finally did come back into the room, he was desperate for your presence. He didn’t care if it was one of your torture techniques or a way to mind break him, he would do anything just to be close to you. And sure, you were a HYDRA agent but how bad could you really be? Lots of people in HYDRA were just normal people that had been radicalized by their ideas. If you could be brainwashed one way, he was sure it could be undone. Even Bucky’s conditioning had been destroyed so he had hope for you. For both of you.

You straddled him as you usually did, smiling while you laid your body against him with your face inches from his.

“Guess what?” you asked, entirely too jovial for your surroundings. He didn’t humor you with a response which made you frown a bit, but you immediately recovered.

“I’m pregnant.”

His mind was going a million miles a second. This was exactly what he wanted. Not in these surroundings but that could be fixed. Steve wished he could hold you, just put his arms around you. How long had it been anyway? The first time he fucked you had to have been over a month before he got here and he wasn’t sure how long he had actually been in this facility. He was beaming with joy and you slapped him as hard as you could.

You clearly had the upper hand here along with being a practiced liar and seemingly a sleeper agent. He had to consider that even with how much you all had sex, you could be lying. Another mental torture technique.

“You’re a liar,” he said. He didn’t even believe himself.

“Do I have to explain how babies are made to you? You can’t possibly understand how much you’ve helped me. When you were holding me down and having your way with me, I was so upset. So shocked that the first avenger would do something like this. I hated you. Then I got back here and I started thinking. You might have just given me the opportunity of lifetime.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know how they made you. No one alive does. But I don’t have to waste time reinventing the wheel when I have a live specimen in front of me,” you trailed off, staring him down.

“You want...to use this baby to—“

“Yup.”

“I won’t let my child be a HYDRA pawn.” Steve’s face hardened. You were serious. This was your pet project and you were so invested that you would put yourself up as an incubator. You weren’t just another HYDRA foot soldier, you really believed in their ideology and wanted to see your plans through. Even if it involved innocent children.

“This baby is the property of HYDRA. You are the property of HYDRA. Replace HYDRA with my name and you’re starting to get the picture. Imagine it. Organically made super soldiers. Sounds cool, right? Please drop that pouty face.”

“Why are you doing this? We could be happy together.”

“Oh, you’re right. We will be happy together. Just a few more preparations and we can go home, sweetheart.”

“Preparations?”

“Yup. You’ll see in a couple hours. Well, you won’t remember in a couple hours. Oops, that kind of gave away the secret, huh? Oh well. Rest up, champ. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

Your departure was unceremonious. You climbed off of him and out the door, slamming it behind you and letting Steve hear all the mechanical whirring it did when it closed. You were going to wipe him. Do what they did to Bucky. He didn’t know why or what information you were going to try to put in his head. You said that you all would be happy together and you would be going home. That sounded nice but he knew there was more.

He didn’t know exactly what your intentions were for the baby. Of course it was something fucked up because you had called the baby organically made like something you pick up at a farmers market, not a child. Not your child.

......

You weren’t necessarily enthused about what you had to do. Steve was a good man who had kind of lost it. That was easy to see but this wad your new mission, your new idea to preserve your ideology. Things had really fallen into place in your favor. You supposed since no one was having luck recreating the serum, you might as well take a crack at it.

You were setting up to wipe him alone. This particular base was nearly empty except for a few guards and some other researchers. No one else was qualified to do what you did. If Steve did manage to escape that room, you’d all probably be fucked. You had some contingency plans for him but you were only one person and he was faster than you. This had to go quickly and smoothly.

Steve really was his own downfall. He wanted privacy so none of his friends were sure where he lived. Except maybe Bucky, but you weren’t sure. Bucky might be a problem. But it would be easy enough to keep him distracted and away from the house while you all settled in. Besides, it wouldn’t even matter after Steve woke up. He’d be hopelessly dedicated to you and not even remember being here. You could infiltrate the Avengers from the top down. Feed him bits of propaganda, get him to join your cause. He would have no choice but to comply.

Just a little more time and your plan could unfold.

........

Steve was raging, thinking about the ramifications of this situation. If you changed his memories or took some away, there was no telling what he would do. From what he knew, HYDRA could completely change a person. Put new ideas in their head and convince them to do things.

He had seen it firsthand with his best friend. Although Bucky was recovering, things were still hard. There were still memories he didn’t have and things he was still getting used to. And that was after tons of rehab and therapy.

Steve’s prowess as a hero had been used to help people. To save lives and promote justice. Maybe he had done well, maybe he had failed at it, but he had tried. And now it all seemed pointless. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break the restraints he was in. He wasn’t strong enough and that broke him. Because he wasn’t strong enough, people might get hurt.

No.

Because he was selfish, people might get hurt. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t taken you. Without you being a distraction for him, he would have been more on his guard, waiting for any possible attack. But the attacker was there all along.

The last time he saw you was rough. You had dropped in not long ago, just to screw with him. Despite your claims to the contrary, you seemed happy to terrorize him. Torturing him with patterns drawn into his body with a knife. His healing factor seemed to make you more inclined to mark him up. When you left, Steve memorized the look in your eyes, the stance you took. You were clearly angry, vindictive even. Your departure was accompanied with the promise that you would be back soon to “fix” him.

He had to wonder if you knew about Bucky. Steve hadn’t made any mention of him while you were at his house, but considering you were a HYDRA agent, you probably knew about the Asset. If you were so willing to wipe Steve yourself, you had probably done this before on someone else. Maybe even Bucky. The thought of it made him sick.

The door opened. .......... “Steve, do you love me?” Your eyes were filled with determination, staring fiercely at the man you had recreated. His gaze bore into your own, completely devoted and submissive to your will.

“Of course I do,” he confirmed easily. You nodded.

“You’ll do anything for me?”

“Anything.”

“Would you die for me?”

“Of course.”

“Would you kill for me?”

“Absolutely.”

“There are people that want to keep us apart. They’re afraid of what we could do together. They’d take the baby.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.”

From behind your back, you produced his shield, all shiny and polished for him. A gun was held in your other hand. You handed both of them over to him. He took them, looking a bit perplexed, while he waited for you to continue.

“Good. I want you to kill everyone in this building except for me and you.”

He gave the briefest of nods before he was out the door.

There weren’t that many people in the base. HYDRA was a dying organization and you supposed you weren’t helping. It would be fine. This was your project, your life and your work. You didn’t want anyone else to jump in and take credit or try to tell you how to accomplish your goals.

The sounds of bullets pinging against walls picked up in the rooms around you. Screaming. Confusion. Chaos. Controlled chaos. Controlled by you. It wasn’t hard to imagine Steve as a killer. He was determined and detrimentally single minded regarding his goals. What he wanted, he got, but now his wants aligned with your own.

The whole affair only took a few minutes. Steve returned to you with fire in his eyes. Blood dripping off of his clothes and even on the gun carried. The stench of his murders permeated the air as he looked to you for guidance, for further instruction. His chest heaved with exertion and adrenaline nearly ran off of him in waves. A look further down and you recognized his killing spree had gotten him worked up in more than one way.

“Are they all gone?”

“Dead. Everyone,” he confirmed. Your hand came to caress his face and he leaned into your touch.

“You did so good for me.”

Hearing your approval drive him wild. So he would listen. Do whatever you pleased. Anything to make you happy, anything to make you look at him like you were now. He would kill a million more people if it would just make you smile at him.

“Let’s go home, honey,” you told him.

....

Taglist: @princessdancingonthesunshine @sllooney @americasass81 @shippers-heart @villanellevi @boinkybornes @imrachellester @xoxabs88xox @momc95

So...there’s a lot happening in this story. Thanks for all the feedback and love you guys give!

Masterlist // Chapter Seven

#Dark Fic #dark steve x reader #dark steve rogers #dark marvel #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader

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