#into and if anything it’s just going to get worse staying in this pipeline. Don’t Forget You’re Here Forever
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TheWall! Series Part Five: Nighttime Tea - Bishop Losa x Reader (Feat: Neron 'Creeper' Vargas)
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Companion Series to:
Complicated - Bishop already knows your secret.
The Wall - Bishop comes home to find you covered in blood.
You’re asleep when Bishop gets in. He finds you curled up in the centre of the bed, the sheets drawn up around you, your face pressed into his pillow. You look like an angel and for the first time since you’d taken that bullet, he breathes a sigh of relief because the truth is since it happened you’ve not been sleeping.
He’s spent nights up with you on the couch, watching late night TV because you every time you close your eyes, you’re back in that truck, the windscreen smashing as raw heat sears through your chest.
He’d had to attend to club business tonight, a meeting between the kings to discuss the disbandment of the pipeline. The negotiations were slow going, Yuma was reluctant. At least this time around he managed to get them to sit down at the table. He’d hated leaving you, but his presence was integral.
He had Neron stay with you instead. He knows you find the other man’s presence soothing. Neron’s always had a way of settling people and it seems to have worked on you.
“I gave her some nighttime tea.” Neron tells him as he collects his kutte from the back of the chair and slips it on over his shoulders. “It helps me sleep when things get a little messy.”
Bishop knows what he’s talking about, they all have their demons. Neron’s spirals back to junkie parents and a childhood spent running away from foster care, he’d managed to get himself clean but those ghosts they still haunt the man. It’s been better since he met Nina, he’s less tense, more grounded. His empathy still shines through, he’s freer with it, more open. It looks good on him.
“We talked tonight.” Neron says quietly. “I think it helped.”
“Thanks brother.” Bishop says earnestly, clasping Neron’s shoulder. “You don’t know how much it means to me.”
“I do.” Neron assures him. “We’re all there, if you need anything just call.”
There’s an ache in Bishop’s chest, the compassion in his brothers moves him. He thinks back to the night you were injured and the time since then, every single one of them had rallied around you.
Riz supporting you by keeping on top of administration at the community centre. Taza ensuring the operations ran smoothly whilst Hank dropped by with meals from his mom and EZ helped around the house because you were finding it hard to adjust to your restricted mobility.
He locks up after the other man, his hands rubbing over his face as he sits down on the couch. He’s exhausted, he can feel the weariness in his bones. This thing with the pipeline, it’s weighting on him. The quicker it’s over and done with, the quicker he can focus on the shit that actually matters. His gaze strays back to the bedroom door.
He’ll let you have the bed tonight; he doesn’t want to run the risk of disturbing you. You deserve at least one goodnight’s sleep. He pulls the blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over himself, his arms folding over his chest as his gaze comes to rest on the blank TV screen. He’s slept in worse places, in worse conditions but it still feels a little weird because by now he’s used to sleeping with you, to having you draped across him or nestled into his side. He grasps one of the cushions, tucking it underneath his chin and clasping it close to his chest. It’s not the same but it’ll have to do.
He's barely closed his eyes when he hears the bedroom door click open, he’s up instantly, his head tilting towards you.
“You ok?” He asks, his voice gruff.
You linger in the doorway clad in one of his white wifebeaters. It falls past your thighs, barely covering the pair of navy-blue panties you’re wearing.
“Obispo, come to bed.” You say softly. “You know I don’t sleep well without you.”
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#bishop losa#mayans mc#bishop losa x reader#bishop losa x you#obispo losa#obispo bishop losa#obispo losa x reader#obispo losa x you
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On the Characteristics of the Risen, and the Character of their King
The Risen King... Finally, a concept which once only existed in whispers and a single cipher 0 card, has made it into a Fire Emblem video game! Just the mobile game, sure, but it counts. And the Fell Exalt Chrom unit is so fascinating to me that I have not only this, but at least two other meta posts in the pipeline about it. I am so normal about him.
To kick things off... let’s talk about exactly what Risen King Chrom is, and also how he’s doing mentally. (Badly. He’s doing very badly.)
---
Real quick, we have to get one snag out of the way: the mechanism by which a Risen is made.
Shadows of Valentia introduced us to a prototypical version of the Risen created by Forneus, known as Death Masks. They’re made by fitting a dead body with a mask containing insects known as thanatophages. The thanatophages prevent the body’s decay and assert physical control over them in a manner not unlike certain real world parasites that control the muscular movements of their hosts.
I’ve seen a handful of my colleagues (lol) assume there are modern Risen made the same way. BUT. The Risen which exist during the events of Awakening are explicitly NOT Death Masks. During the xenologue Death’s Embrace, Brady states that “In the future, our wounded often turned to Risen just as we were tryin' to heal 'em.” This has to mean that Grima is transforming the dead and dying remotely, using some kind of magic; and at the height of their power, they may be either passively creating or deliberately casting an area of effect that turns dead bodies automatically. There’s nothing to suggest any Risen are manually created with thanatophages, or that Grima is manifesting thanatophages for that purpose.
Alas, we cannot do insect body horror with RK Chrom while also staying true to canon. But moving on...
---
Fell Chrom is, to make an understatement, very unique among the Risen. And to discuss why he’s unique, we first have to define what’s typical.
Behaviourally, typical Risen don’t appear to have sentience outside of their competency in wielding weapons and their tendency to form loose hierarchies based on individual strength. They’re incredibly aggressive by nature; it’s like their only innate drive is to fight and kill humans. Most of them are not capable of speech, though the stronger Risen Chiefs can grind out single words or even short phrases, which are usually just related to wanting to kill things. When being actively controlled through dark magic, they appear capable of basic tactics, though whether that comes from them or the person controlling them is unclear.
There’s no doubt that Fell Chrom is a Risen. He’s certainly got the appearance, the purple miasma, and the vocal distortion for it. Not to mention the giant glowing fatal wound in his side. Man certainly isn't alive.
He’s evidently still subject to control via dark magic too, if the fact that he was forced to war against his own country is anything to go by.
Fell Chrom also has the strong aggressive drive typical of Risen. Nearly all of his dialogue in battle situations suggests this. In order of increasing intensity: There’s the turn action quote “Find me an enemy”, which depending on your mood can read as either resignation or as chomping at the bit. There’s hostile level up quotes like “You shall count yourself...among the dead” and “You would...block my path”. His special trigger quotes are yet worse. He yells “This is your fate”, “No resistance”, and “Useless effort” with a fury you don’t expect from Chrom—and for the fourth one, he just shouts “DEATH”. And his voice clips for attacking aren’t words or even anywhere in the realm of a regular human noise, they're just distorted, monstrous growling.
But unlike with typical Risen, aggression is not all RK Chrom is. He can walk around the Askran castle and be around others without constantly trying to attack people. And in fact, he’s aware of and bothered by how violent being Risen makes him. One of his status page quotes is begging someone to “back away!” in a panic, as though he’s afraid of hurting them. It’s possible the violent instincts Risen have mainly only come into play for him in battle situations, or possibly when he’s in a state of heightened emotion.
And while RK Chrom displays the kind of difficulty with speech you would expect of a Risen, with his slow halting pace and gravelly tone, he speaks in complete, coherent sentences and displays remarkable clarity about who he is and what’s happening around him. He’s no husk. Chrom's mind is intact.
That is massive. That is completely unique among Risen, and deeply, deeply horrifying. Because even though he can think, he is by no means in control.
---
If the Forging Bonds supports are anything to go by, Chrom did try to resist Grima, at least in the beginning. From C through to A he moves from disbelief to outright despair at the very prospect of warring against Ylisse. But by the S support—which necessarily takes place years after the others due to how far Grima’s campaign has progressed—he’s given up. So much of his dialogue is mourning the past, or repeating Grima's belief that everyone is doomed and nothing can change. He’s not fighting it anymore. He's resigned to his fate as Grima’s executioner.
And why wouldn’t he be? After the initial confusion from being resurrected passed, he was lucid. He was fully mentally present when he was murdering his allies and slaughtering his own people. And between the deep, fundamental drive to kill and the direct influence of Grima on his actions... There wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop himself. He couldn’t protect a thing.
Even now that he’s free of Grima’s influence in Askr, he doesn’t exactly do anything to avoid being an instrument of violence. Otherwise he wouldn’t be a playable unit. Everyone he’s ever cared about is dead, and he’s been nothing more than a monster and an instrument of violence for years. Why not fight. It’s the only thing he has left.
This Chrom is a deeply broken man. Angry and utterly hopeless. It’s no wonder after all he’s been through.
And yet... there’s still a spark there. For all his rigid insistence that Grima’s bleak outlook is the truth, his ally growth quote speaks volumes: “If this power were mine...back then...”
If fate is so immutable and hope is so pointless, why deal in what-ifs? Why wonder about what could have changed? And he’s still trying to protect people he cares about from himself; why else would he yell for others to “back away” when he feels he might attack them?
Through all the years of horror and the terrible curse of undeath... he’s still Chrom.
#fire emblem#chrom#risen king chrom#meta#not ME dropping depressing character analysis of the most traumatized version of chrom on his birthday. oops.#i've converted the big grima skull in plegia into a lecture hall and we're in there giving RKC blankets and talking about feelings#actually putting read mores on long posts? on this blog? its more likely than you think
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The alt-right pipeline is so easy to fall into and I’m absolutely devastated to finally realize there isn’t anything I can do to help my parents out of it. My living situation makes me reliant on them to live, and my relationship with them has always been rocky and abusive. But I really had hope that when I was older and had more words and skills to deal with things that I could have an actual relationship with them. Now I realized that it’s just not possible anymore.
This is so devastating to understand, because even through everything, I love my parents. I had so much hope that things would get better when they finally come out of the Mormon church. But now that hate/fear is just pushed onto other things.
The beliefs they have now are just “vaccines cause autism” “chem trials are real” “systemic racism/oppression isn’t real” “if you aren’t someone with a visible disability or don’t have high support needs you are just lying and making excuses” “there is a higher order controlling things” “climate change isn’t real” “the government is putting fluoride in the water to control you” “taking psychedelics will help you break out of the matrix” “oppressed people aren’t actually oppressed they are just lazy” “trans people aren’t real and taking hrt is actually worse for you” etc.
If I try to challenge them I’m met with “you aren’t living in reality, you are closed minded to my side, you are just not educated enough to have a say, you are too emotional to have anything valid to say.” Or they get offended and think that I’m calling them personally Nazis and racists that are actively going out and causing harm.
I feel that I’m yelling at a brick wall. There’s nothing I can say to help change their mind. There isn’t anything I can say to defend myself or question them that doesn’t make them think I’m some stupid, ignorant, or an over sensitive snowflake. I can’t hold them accountable or try and reframe things without them disregarding my validity/perspective.
Realizing my parents will never respect me as a person or fully love me as their child because of these conspiracies is devastating. I understand that sometimes people just need to be in the presence of a different perspective or way of life to come to an understand it. Like sometimes people need to be challenged and taken out of the echo chamber to get a different idea on a topic. Was me being their kid and gay, help them to understand that gay people aren’t bad, yes probably, but at this point I feel there isn’t nothing I can do anymore. My existence doesn’t make me obligated to be your teacher of respect and understanding. I’m no going to risk my sanity to maybe push them into a different mindset anymore.
Anyway, what I want to say to people is, choose your battles. Please don’t risk your safety to question a brick wall, love yourself and understand you aren’t at fault here. It’s okay to grieve that relationship and move on. I understand that not everything is easy but just be aware of your safety and sanity. Try to pivot conversations to different topics or physically leave the conversation or set topic boundaries with them. Just stay safe please and take care of yourself in situations like these.
Oof. So sorry you have to deal with this. And you're right, you really do have to pick your battles and look out for yourself.
#answered#new age to alt right pipeline#conspiracy theories#conspiracy theory#conspiracism#conspiracy theorists#radicalization#abuse
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Okay @tibby encouraged me and got me thinking about it again so I’m going to write this out:
There’s something about Saw 3D that majorly bothers me as someone who enjoys Hoffman’s character and who tries to actually give him a consistent characterization, and that’s the entire existence of Matt Gibbson and his relation to Hoffman’s backstory.
The thing about Hoffman that, to me at least, made him compelling was that he Is a cop who will let some shit slide, like defending Rigg for hitting that one guy when it was clear he was abusing his kid even tho they didn’t have evidence to convict him, but who hadn’t done anything extremely egregious up until going after Seth. For the most part before that, he was pretty well respected by his department and the station and seen as a “good” cop who was really trying to do his best. (We know those don’t exist of course but stay with me for the sake of examining the narrative.)
Angelina’s death being the thing that sends Hoffman over an edge he’d never crossed prior due to his inconsolable grief and need for revenge to see “justice” served (and added drinking problem) is a Very compelling narrative to follow and works well with him being a cop who’s given power to do things that others usually can’t due to the authority he holds. He knows how the systems work, he knows how evidence is handled, it gives him an edge in covering his tracks. And that’s what makes it more compelling when John catches him too because he still fucked up enough to be found out.
But it’s Also compelling in how killing Seth makes Everything Else work for him later down the line. Because that One action, killing someone and not being able to take it back, is a catalyst for everything else that happens to him. AND, at first it’s obviously something that he actually Regrets! That whole scene in his apartment complex clearly has him on edge and dealing with the repercussions of his own actions. And it’s also really interesting to see how those feelings mix in with how he talks to John while he’s got him strapped to the chair in his lair. He is fucking Angry, spitting out venom about Seth deserving to die and how John doesn’t get how he feels, but it’s also clear this is mixed with some sort of regret too. And That’s why its more compelling later on when John blackmails him into joining him how he uses those underlying feelings of wanting to enact righteous violence and working against a corrupt system to his own advantage, all while slowly driving Hoffman further and further down the pipeline of doing the work of torturing people without having any personal feelings involved in it (that one bit during them setting up the wire trap and all that has Hoffman verbalize that he didn’t expect to feel remorse, and John chastises him for it and pushes him away from thinking like that.) All of this eventually leads to what we see of how Hoffman’s become in V and VI, a guy who’s so detached from the torture and violence he’s acting out that it just doesn’t phase him, and how far off the path he’s fallen. And as far as villain narratives go, it’s a good one! And it’s also a great show of how much John further fucks up the people he took under his wing in different ways. He destabilized Amanda in worse ways than she already had been, and he pulled out the more underlying violent tendencies that Hoffman had lying dormant until it becomes his eventual downfall, and That is the kind of tragedy I like to see personally.
But, circling back to the original intent of this post: I hate everything that Saw 3D does with Gibbson because it actively undermines the Entire point of how killing Seth was the first true point of Hoffman’s downfall. Adding another killing under his belt takes away what would have actually made a more compelling and consistent characterization for Hoffman. Seth was something that Hoffman had to actively plan out and carry out on his own from a point of his all consuming grief, and having him actually deal with the consequences of taking a human life and then having someone Else (John) intervene and lead him down a darker path from that point on is a much more engaging way to write a character than suddenly giving him a retconned second killing that he committed before this other one ever happened. You can tell they literally only did it to give Hoffman more of a reason to want to destroy the prescient, when by that point, he’d already had motive enough considering oh I dunno, he’d already killed Erickson and Perez and would need to eventually cover his damn tracks if he didn’t want to be caught. Adding in Gibbson and this other person that Hoffman killed just weakens his narrative overall and it actively pisses me off, along with so many other things that 3D managed to fuck up on.
#can you tell ive been stewing on this for awhile#mark hoffman#saw 3d#saw#saw meta#my meta#kief rambles about saw#i have so many issues with saw 3d and this is just one of them
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Good Night, Wild Bird
Read on Ao3
Edward had dealt with worse injuries than cuts, bruises, and a few pieces of metal stuck in his shoulder. As soon as the puncture wounds in his arm were stitched up, he rushed to go help clear the rubble.
There were people trapped in crumbling buildings to rescue, pipelines to repair, cannonball craters to fill in, and not a moment to rest from sunrise to sundown.
As soon as it got too dark to keep working, Edward rushed back to the hospital to take care of Alphonse.
He was so thin and small and vulnerable, but he was there, in the flesh, and Edward’s heart leapt every time he saw him. He wanted to cry with joy every time Alphonse smiled at him, asked to hold his hand, or asked for something to eat. Edward was only too happy to indulge him.
“Brother,” Alphonse said as he braided Edward’s hair one morning, “Your shoulder looks red.”
Edward glanced at his shoulder, where the bolts were still lodged. It hurt to put pressure on it, raise his arm, or lift anything heavy, but he’d had worse, and there were people who needed medical attention far more urgently than he did.
Alphonse pressed a hand to his shoulder, and Edward tried not to wince. “It’s hot!” Alphonse said. “Brother, it’s infected. You shouldn’t go today.”
Edward shook his head. “I’ve had worse, and Central needs all the help it can get.”
“Brother…”
He turned around and gave Alphonse a kiss and a pat on the head. “Don’t worry about me, Al. I’ve lasted this long, haven’t I?”
Alphonse grabbed his hand. “Brother, please.”
Edward sighed, then settled down next to him. “Okay, Al,” he said, “But if I’m not feeling worse tomorrow, I'll go back, alright?”
Alphonse nodded and gave him a squeeze in response.
--
Edward felt no worse the next morning. In fact, he felt better! Not having spent all day moving rubble all over the city, he didn’t wake up sore. He’d slept better, too. Over the last few weeks, Edward had woken up with the sun and stayed up until Alphonse was fast asleep, but that day, he’d slept in until no earlier than seven.
He stretched out, and winced as he raised his arm. He prodded at his shoulder. It was still red and painful to touch, and a little bit of pus welled up around the bolts. He frowned. He’d have to disinfect it later, but for now, there was work to do.
Alphonse was still asleep. Edward dropped a kiss on his forehead and headed out.
--
When Edward returned that evening, Alphonse shot off the bed and flung his arms around him.
“Brother!”
Edward laughed and ruffled his hair. “I love you too, Sunflower.”
Alphonse pressed his hand to Edward’s shoulder, and his face fell. “It’s still hot… You need to see a doctor.”
Edward smiled softly and kissed his head. “They’re busy and I just disinfected it,” he said, “I’ll be fine.”
“Brother…”
“Shh…” he leaned his forehead against Alphonse’s, “It’ll be okay.”
“Brother, you have a fever.”
“I’ve had worse, Al,” Edward assured, “Don’t worry about me.”
--
The next afternoon, a flurry of frantic voices rose from further down the hallway. Alphonse got up and peeked out, just as a group of doctors and nurses rushed by, surrounding a gurney.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
A nurse paused and turned to him. Her face fell. “Oh, lord, you’re his brother, aren’t you?”
Alphonse’s heart sank. “Brother’s hurt? What…” the rest of the sentence lodged itself in his throat, but it seemed she knew what he was going to say.
“He went into septic shock. We’ll do whatever we can to save him, I promise.” She patted him on the head, and ran after the rest of the group.
Alphonse stared after her, too stunned to do anything else. His feet felt like lead, his mouth was dry and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Finally, finally, he got his feet to move, and he staggered after the doctors.
--
The doctors chased Alphonse away when he tried to follow them into the operating theater, and he was left to pace like a caged animal outside its doors. Whenever his nerves calmed enough that he could stop moving, he flopped into a chair and cried.
Hours passed.
When the sun had gone down, two nurses wheeled Edward out. He was still unconscious and his face was ashen, but Alphonse’s heart leapt. He scampered after them and grabbed Edward’s hand, and his heart clenched as he examined Edward.
His right arm was gone, and so was a disturbing amount of his shoulder. The remaining flesh was still red and hot to the touch, and when Alphonse laid a hand on his forehead, his fever remained.
“Brother…” he whimpered.
--
After Edward was situated in a room, Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye arrived, and a nurse followed them in. Lieutenant Hawkeye sat down beside Alphonse and gave his hand a squeeze.
“Will you step out for a moment, kid?” she asked.
Alphonse made a noise. “He’s my brother!”
The nurse blinked at him, then turned to Colonel Mustang.
“Let him stay.”
She nodded, and took a deep breath, as if preparing herself to speak. Every second that passed felt like an eternity. It was all Alphonse could do to sit quietly, to stop himself from screaming at her to spit it out.
Finally, she said, “He’s going to die.”
Alphonse’s heart plummeted. Tears pricked his eyes, and a sob lodged in his throat.
But… Edward couldn’t die. He was too strong, too determined. Surely, surely he’d pull through…?
“He’s in septic shock,” the nurse continued, “It spread too far for us to amputate all the infected tissue.”
Alphonse couldn’t breathe. His ears rang.
“I’m very sorry,” she said. Her voice was muffled, distant, as if Alphonse was underwater.
He felt like he was underwater. Every time he tried to gasp for air, something in his throat constricted, and he couldn’t breathe.
Until he could. The trapped sob burst forth, and both Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye pulled him into a hug as he dissolved into tears.
--
Alphonse couldn’t sleep that night. He refused to go back to his room, and kept his hand over Edward’s heart, reassuring himself with each feeble beat that Edward was still alive.
Thump… Thump.
Thump… Thump.
Thump…
Alphonse’s eyes flew open. He kept his hand where it was, waiting with bated breath for the next beat.
--
Edward would be buried in Central. When Alphonse protested, Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye told him that Central’s station had been destroyed, and there was simply no way to repair it and get Edward to Resembool before he decomposed.
The day of, Alphonse stayed at the very back of the crowd, clinging to Lieutenant Hawkeye’s hand. Despite the unclouded Spring sun, despite the long suit he wore, despite the gentle breeze, Alphonse shivered. Lieutenant Hawkeye rubbed his back and pressed him to her side, and he rested his head on her shoulder.
Choked whimpers slipped from his lips, but no tears would come. It was like he was back in the armor, all his despair trapped inside and clawing in vain to get out like a cageful of drowning rats.
There were so many people in attendance. Too many. Officers, soldiers, and civilians all crowded into the cemetery. A string of mourners approached Alphonse, one after the other, to offer cookie-cutter condolences.
“You poor thing, this must be so painful for you.”
“My thoughts are with you.”
“He was such a bright boy, he could’ve done great things with just a little more time. What a shame.”
Alphonse wanted to scream, cry, to sink into the earth between all the corpses and never come up again, to wake up and find that it was all a dream. He wanted to crawl into Edward’s lap and be assured that it was just a horrible nightmare, that Edward was still as healthy and loving and alive as he should have been.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, people departed. Soon, only a few dozen were left.
“Do you want to see him?” Lieutenant Hawkeye asked.
Alphonse shook his head. He couldn’t bear to face Edward…
No, not Edward. What lay in that casket was a cold, hollow husk. Edward was as bright as a wildfire and burned just as fiercely. He was full of life, full of energy, full of love and there wasn’t a single moment where he lost sight of his goal.
“I want to go,” he whispered.
Lieutenant Hawkeye rubbed his shoulder, and the two made their way to the car.
--
A few weeks after the funeral, Colonel Mustang asked if Alphonse wanted to stay with him. Alphonse didn’t have it in himself to refuse.
When they arrived, Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye went upstairs to the spare bedroom. Alphonse curled up on the sofa, and Black Hayate, who Lieutenant Hawkeye had brought over, hopped up beside him and licked his face. Alphonse petted Black Hayate and tried to summon a smile for his benefit.
He failed.
Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye came down a few minutes later.
He picked Alphonse up and carried him upstairs, then laid him on the bed, tucked the blanket around him, and patted his head.
“Can you stay here on your own?” he asked.
Alphonse nodded.
Colonel Mustang gave a soft, wobbly smile and squeezed his hand, and left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Alphonse rolled to the edge of the bed and spread out the blanket to wrap himself in it, and caught sight of the other side of the room.
There was another bed, and in it laid Edward.
--
Screaming rang out from upstairs.
Riza nearly dropped the pot she held, and Roy jumped and cursed, the spoon in his hands clattered to the floor.
They ran upstairs and burst into the spare bedroom.
Alphonse banged his bloodied fists against the mirror, and the cracks already crawling through it like a spiderweb grew.
“Alphonse! What are you doing?” Riza darted to his side and hauled him away from it. He screamed and tried to thrash out of her grasp, but she pinned him to her chest as tightly as she could.
“Let me go! Let me go!” he sobbed, “Brother!”
Riza only held him tighter. “No,” she whispered, “Ed’s…”
But she couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence, not with Alphonse so distraught and unsteady in her arms. Had she not been holding him, he would’ve collapsed.
She carried Alphonse to the bed and settled him in her lap. Roy sat down beside her and stroked his hair.
“Let me go,” he pleaded, “Let me go!”
Roy shook his head, and Riza squeezed him closer still.
“You’re hurting yourself,” he said.
Alphonse struggled and wailed for only a few minutes before he went limp, and Riza turned him around so Roy could examine his hands.
“No shards,” he said, and a knot in Riza’s chest loosened. “I’m going to get some gauze.”
Riza nodded and Roy left.
He returned a minute later with a damp cloth and a roll of bandages. He took Alphonse’s hands and wiped away the blood. It must have been alcohol, because Alphonse whimpered and tried to pull away. Riza rubbed his back.
“It’s to keep the cuts from getting infected,” she told him, “It hurts now, but it’ll help you.”
Roy hurried to finish cleaning and bandaging the cuts. When he finished, he set the roll aside and stroked Alphonse’s hair.
“Why did you do that, Al?” he asked.
“B-Br-Brother!” Alphonse sobbed, “Brother’s in the other room, I have to get to him! Brother!”
Riza cast a glance at the mirror.
Her heart twisted and she gulped down the lump starting to form in her throat. “Alphonse,” she murmured, tipping his face up towards hers, “That’s not your brother. Ed’s gone.”
Alphonse whimpered. “H-he’s right th-there!”
Riza exchanged a glance with Roy. How could they tell him…? He wriggled in Riza’s arms, trying to push himself away from her, whimpering softly.
Finally, Roy set a hand on his head. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth. But he didn’t speak. He tried again, and choked out, “It was just your reflection, Al.”
Alphonse blinked up at him, then Riza, then turned to the mirror. He clutched her tighter, and looked up at her. His lip quivered and tears welled up in his eyes. His breaths were shaky, hitching as his shoulders trembled. She stroked his hair and rested her cheek on the top of his head and he buried his face in her shoulder.
Soft whimpers slipped from him. Riza rubbed his back and rocked him, but nothing she did soothed him. With every passing moment, his grasp on her shirt grew tighter, his knuckles turning white and his hands trembling.
#Alphonse Elric#edward elric#riza hawkeye#Roy Mustang#parental roy#Parental Riza#fma fanficion#Fullmetal Alchemist#My writing#fanfiction
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Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader Ballistic Confrontations (1/3)
**A/N: The picture/edit/gif belongs to me!
Yes, I’m alive.
*TW: mentions of suicide, drowning, and cutting. Along with Eobard being a dramatic bitch*
Word Count: 3184
Part 2 Part 3
Felicity deadpanned with Harry beside her on one of the Cortex monitors. She had glanced to all her friends. “The bottom line is that we have to catch these parallel-earth goose-steppers.” Everyone was well aware of her dislike towards Nazi’s. The things they had done on this earth to her ancestors and to people like her. Utterly Disgusting.
“This might help,” Barry stepped in, holding up a blood-stained arrow.
“Is that a kryptonite arrow?” Kara’s sister, Alex, unfurled her arms as she gently took the lethal arrow away from him.
“Yup,” Barry responded with a sigh, hands at his hips while the others rounded together. He felt exhausted from chasing around Eobard while Kara and Oliver dealt with their doppelgangers. Years later and he still wasn’t fast enough to stop the yellow speedster.
“I know I shouldn't have to ask this question, but I have to ask this question.” Felicity interjected with quick words; worry seeded in her chest. “Oliver didn't shoot Kara, did he?”
“Sort of,” Barry replied, further clarifying with a face. The days just keep getting worse and worse with these parallel-dimension-hoppers. “The other Archer and flying woman are Oliver and Kara of Earth-X.”
“When you said that Earth-X was horrible,” Caitlin glanced back at Harry, who had raised a hand in mock defeat, “you might have undersold it.”
“Wait a minute. How- how could there be another Kara?” Alex was thoroughly confused; she was still new to the concept of parallel earths doppelgangers.
“Well, there are 53 Karas, just like there's 53 Kryptons and 53 Earths.” Harry explained simply.
“And the Thawne from our earth is working with them.” Barry gave a look, clearly annoyed at the fact that Thawne was back. Again. Thawne coming back due to time travel and the Speedforce were already giving him a headache just thinking about it all over again.
Caitlin just gave Barry an incredulous look. “He's an idiot.” Harry plainly stated.
Felicity already was thinking up of ways to track them down. “Ok, if that arrow has not-so-Supergirl's blood on it, we c—"
“We could track it using quantum analysis.” Harry cut her off, but she just nodded at his words.
“We could.”
***___***
“Harry, Cait, Iris,” Barry unfurled his arms and gestured to them with his head for a sidebar. The others were busy with Alex in isolating the city for Kara-X’s radioactive blood signatures. Felicity’s specialty. After all, she was able to track a deranged killer with just his face cream. “Whatever happens, (Y/N) can’t know Thawne’s here.” Both scientists gave odd looks to each other at the speedster’s words.
“Barry she’s going to find out one way or another, she’s part of this team too,” Iris voiced, side-glancing the door as if you’d step in at any moment.
“If he’s working with them, she has the right to know.” Caitlin added. “She should know what to expect.”
“Allen, unless you decide to lock her up in the pipeline until this is all over, she’ll find out.” Harry said. “You can’t possibly hide this from her forever.” The genius scientist hinted at the fact that when Barry had run back in time last year, Thawne had been the one to ‘fix’ things when really, he had altered the timeline. A timeline created to suits him and his plans. Even going as far to tell Barry that this was how the timeline was supposed to be before Thawne had caused the alteration when he had time-traveled back to kill Nora and escalated into what is now Team Flash. Three different timelines had been created, but this one, according to Thawne, is how the original one should have been. Just with a few… absences… Like Eddie and Ronnie. Barry had never mentioned any of this to you or the fact that Thawne had ended up escaping him that night. The scarlet speedster did not want you looking for the man in the yellow suit. But it seems that fate’s not on Barry’s side this time.
“Harry, I can’t have her chasing after him. Not with all this going on,” Barry protested. “One maniacal problem at a time.”
“Whether she does or doesn’t is up to her, Allen. You’re not a god.” Harry pursed his lips before heading to the side lab.
Barry ran his tongue over his lips tightly, frowning deeply at the echoed words. He didn’t need this right now. Those words stung the speedster, mainly with the aftermath of his time remnant – Savitar - claiming god-hood, wanting to alter everything and anything in his way to stay alive. Even to kill the love of his life. Jay Garrick told him that when he ran back to this timeline a year ago. ‘We’re not gods, Barry.’
How did Wells know about that? Maybe he didn’t. But it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that time-traveling powers shouldn’t be abused like that. Yet… Thawne always gets away with it. He gets away with barely a scratch. I can be one step ahead, but he’ll be 15 steps further.
Caitlin gave her friend a sympathetic look, exchanging one with Iris. Alex and Felicity were still present in the room, but too preocuppied with their blood sample. Barry’s intentions made sense, but it was your decision whether to chase after Thawne or not. It’s your choice on whether you’d even side with him for this battle.
***___***
You had stood right outside the Cortex in the corridor, your feet stopped when you heard Barry announce that “Thawne is working with them”. Your heart got caught in your chest. Eobard was here. He was back. But why in the hell would he ever work with Nazis? Nazis? Seriously Eo??? What the absolute fuck? You knew Eobard never had a tolerance for people like that. People like Eiling or Stagg, who would “poke fun” at those with disabilities, even if he had feigned his inability to walk in the end. People who would intentionally use their status to torture others. It just goes to show how people with that kind of caliber would think. So why this sudden change? Not ‘why now’. No, why at all?? How could he have stooped so low? That idiot. Unacceptable.
But what ached the most was Barry’s words. He doesn’t trust me… Even after all these years. Your heart shook and eyes narrowed as your eyes peered at the light being cast from the Cortex. You took in a breath. Taking a quiet step back, your feet carried you to one of the higher levels of STAR Labs- one of the tower levels. Your quiet place of refuge when this had gotten too much, whether it was because the shadows kept you safe from judgment or not, you didn’t know. If he wants to act like that, then two can play this game, Bartholomew Henry Allen. You looked out onto the city, subconscious scanning every light – every street. Lights winked in and out, the night progressing as the city remained unaware of the new monsters it currently hid. But what am I going to do?
***___***
Iris rubbed her eyes before taking a step closer to her almost-husband. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“I can’t have (Y/N) fighting with us. Not now. Not in this battle.” Not when he’s lurking around.
“Why?”
“You know why? Thawne’s out there. Running, scheming.”
“So, you don’t trust her.” It was more of a statement rather than a question.
“Iris, she knew what he did to my mom. Lied to us about it for months back then and still chose Thawne when we locked him up. What makes this time different?”
“Barry, while all those sound like good points, first and foremost she’s our friend.” The speedster just shook his head, Iris huffed, “Look, it’s been -what?- 3? 4 years? Since she’d last been with him? Things have changed. You think after everything we’ve been through; she’ll throw that all away?”
“Yes! Old feelings come back; they always do and she’s going to get her revenge.”
“How do you know that? How do you know that she wants revenge?”
“Thawne will coax it out of her. He’s good at manipulating a person’s feelings.”
“And what would she get in the end?”
Barry didn’t answer her, instead he wrung his hands together.
“Barr, if she had wanted revenge, she would have done so already after the incident. But she didn’t. (Y/N) was depressed after Thawne was erased. Vulnerable. The love of her life was gone, just like that. Don’t you remember? How she wanted to end it all, but we stopped her.” Barry’s eyes flickered to the ground, remember the sight he had seen. Drowning. You were purposefully drowning yourself in your tub. The way your looked back at him- lifeless- when he had gotten you back to your senses. The blood the dripped, your cold skin. The monitor beeping every so often in the Cortex. Iris’ own mind shifted to when she had seen the scars littered on your arms when Caitlin had fully examined you. Your dull hair and gaunt face, nothing like the brilliant fire that rang through you months prior to Eobard’s erasure. “We helped her work through it when we found out. Caitlin and I looked after (Y/N) every second of the day until she was ready to get back on her two feet. And then Zoom happened and he was breaking you. Breaking your bones and your spirit- when you broke your back, she was all-hands-on-deck to step in and help in your place while still dealing with her own issues.”
“I know, it’s just- something just tells me otherwise with Thawne here.”
“Barry-”
“-She’s going to choose him, Iris. Nothing will change that. To her, everything we’ve been through until this point won’t mean anything. Not when Thawne’s at the end of the tunnel waiting for her. She’s going to choose him and help him.”
“But what if she doesn’t? What then, Barr?”
Barry just shrugged. “I-I don’t know, but I can’t take any chances. Not this time.” I can’t hesitate with Thawne here. One misstep and that’ll be all he needs to make his move.
Iris reached out to her fiancé, gently caressing his cheek. She knew that he won’t change his mind, no matter the reasons she could come up with. Barry thought in absolutes when it comes to Thawne. And your past emotional ties with the evil speedster only further drove his current mistrust. “Come on, we have to help the others.”
***___***
You threw the ball against the concrete wall opposite to you, all your strength forced into it. The stress ball ricocheted back to where you sat. You caught it with ease, giving it a firm squeeze as your eyes shut.
“How could you betray us? We were your friends, your family!-”
“You are-”
“We stood by you!”
“I just-”
“-Just what!? He took everything from me!”
You cringed at the voice from years past. Breathe in, breathe out.
“You’re just as guilty as him. No wonder, like calls to like.”
“I-”
“I don’t want your excuses.”
Breathe in, breathe out.
“I hope you rot with him.”
Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Swallowing harshly, you did your breathing exercises to push Barry’s cold voice away. You had stolen the malleable ball from Harry- or rather, he had allowed you to take it from him. It was an unused gift from the others for Harry to deal with his anger issues. Instead of throwing beakers and graduated cylinders off desks, the Earth-2 scientist can simply channel his anger into this stress ball… Which had been a hard pass for him. Rather he preferred his method of anger outbursts, even if he did end up hurting himself in the process. So you put it to use instead; a tool for simple meditation, as well as the redirecting your certain senses. It’s made of rubber polymer so your electrokinesis didn’t harm your new toy in any way.
Your eyes lingered back onto the city, your arm hanging over your bent leg while your other remained outstretched. No good in hiding up here forever, it’ll make things more suspicious. Not like Barry isn’t suspecting anything anyway. But you had needed time to think, to collect your thoughts and assess what actions you would take. You touched the necklace Eobard had made for you in rich gold- a Columba. It’s a constellation signifying the dove in astrology as he always called you his little birdy. But also, because gave him a sense of peace which the dove has generally symbolized fore. A finger ran over the one of the six diamonds that twinkled for the constellation, connected to each by a trail of gold. Eobard. Licking your lips, you got up, you pocketed your ball and brushed any dust particle from your leggings.
Upon entering the Cortex, a group of heroes left: Oliver, Kara, Barry, Sara, and so on. Barry had shoved past you, your eyes meeting briefly as you raised an eyebrow. His expression was guarded, but you said nothing.
“I’m guessing they’re going on a little midnight excursion?” You turned to Felicity and Iris with a thumb pointing in their direction. Mick was nowhere to be found so you can assume he’s already raided the lounge fridge. Caitlin had already prepped the med bay for incoming injuries, which isn’t an uncommon expectation, but wasn’t in the Cortex.
“Ding ding ding, you’re correct,” Felicity piped up, typing away at her computer screen. She was already hacking into cameras around the warehouse as the inside had ones out of commission. “The remaining Legends are to be on standby, should something happen during the warehouse fight. Per Sara’s orders.” At least Felicity isn’t treating you any differently, especially with how close she is to Barry. He probably told her to.
“And we’re going to be…?” You raised an eyebrow, a bit offended no one decided to volunteer you for the fight. You wanted to kick some Nazi ass too. Fry those fuckers. Guess Barry told them all to not trust me. Great, thanks Barr. Bitterness welled up inside but didn’t show it. Felicity and Iris aren’t the ones to be at odds with. Maybe it’s a good thing if Eo’s there. Barry would have his eyes all over your interaction with him.
“Just doing some monitoring and staying on comms. The usual Overwatch stuff,” Felicity smiled up at you then quickly turned to her tech. You could tell that her mind was wondering. About what? You had no clue and decided it’d be best to not involve yourself should things go sour if you did and Barry would find a reason to blame you.
No, this reunion needed to be on the downlow. One away from prying eyes. Your eyes drifted to Iris’ back in a subtle manner before pulling out your phone to check the time.
“Where’s Harry?” You asked, if anything he was one of the people who hadn’t seen you for just your past. Didn’t care for it as Zoom terror and Jesse’s rescue were more pressing matters. And you had seen him for more than a doppelganger to Eobard, even if their tendencies and bristliness seemed similar. Harry was Harry and Eobard was Eobard. Both were their own men, it wasn’t that hard to see and understand. He had done his own share of horrors and dark deeds for Jesse that Harry was dealing with his own darkness, while your demons haunted you. In an odd way, you both understood one another. Begrudgingly at first, though. Plus, you needed to return the stress ball back to him, thinking he’d need it now with Thawne around. If anything, you found it funny how Harry got mad when people would call Thawne a Wells. The Wells doppelganger would spectacularly blow up, which was always a site to see. Though you were hoping the two would never meet. You chewed on the inside of your cheek on how that interaction could possibly go. Would you-
“He’s probably back in his lab,” Iris spoke up from the other side of the Cortex, padding up to you. You nodded at her, mind drifting once more as you strolling to the Cortex exit. Harry could hold his own, but up against Eo, with all his speed… You’d choose-
“Hey,” Iris stopped you, snapping you out of your thoughts and placing a hand on your arm. You blinked. A small smile was woven on her face, one of those comforting smiles that said that you can come to her for anything… But could you?
“Hey,” you returned it, feigning any indication that you had overheard what Barry had said earlier. Schooling your features, you calmed your nerves. I’ve done this before. Pretended not to know. I can do it again. I can’t trust no one, and it seems like no one can trust me. I’ll be the actress again in this drama, spun by Barry this time.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Sure”
Iris was perceptive, she didn’t miss the slight strain in your voice. The guarded look that the young journalist had become accustomed to receiving when approaching you. There were times where she’d realize you were walking on eggshells with her. Because of Barry. Because of the serrated words he had thrown at you like knives all those times ago. But there were times where all was well with the world, the past forgotten and the strength of your friendship with the team more prominent than ever. Then again, having Nazi’s return and who are hell bent on ruling this Earth by eradicating its heroes then move on to the next Earth in the multiverse does tend to throw tension into the air. Iris bit her lip. Especially if she doesn’t know about Thawne.
“(Y/N), look there’s… there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“…”
“Iris, is something wrong? Are you ok?”
She noted sincerity on your face. “Thawne’s here.”
You pursed your lips, internally confused. “Iris-”
“And he’s fighting with the Earth-Xers.”
“I… what?!” Your rage was not false. Sure you knew about it earlier, but now it was necessary to unleash it. It’d make your surprise all the more legit.
“I needed you to know,” Iris swallowed.
“How?”
“When Barry, Oliver, and Kara intercepted their heist.”
“…” It was your turn to be silent. You knew, but you had to play a little longer until you could leave.
“I trust you, ok?”
“But” You knew there was a ‘but’. There always is one. Iris blinked, opening her mouth a few times then looking away before meeting your gaze once more.
“But I need to know you’re with us on this.”
Your eyes never left hers, your hand was held in both of hers. Before you could even respond an alarm had gone off. Both your necks snapped to Felicity, who snapped up from her sitting position.
“That was the corridor alarm.” Fear crippled its way in the air. “This is a setup.”
#harrison wells x reader#eobard thawne x reader#eobard x reader#trigger warning#the flash#harribard eowells x reader#reverse flash x reader#harry wells#eobard thawne#barry allen#iris west-allen#Felicity Smoak#oliver queen#kara danvers#the flash x reader#team flash x reader#crisis on earth x#harrison wells imagine#eobard thawne imagine#the flash cw#caitlin snow#trigger warning: suicide mention#trigger warning: cutting mention#trigger warning: drowning mention#team flash#reverse flash
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Hello! Could i request a Sokka imagine where the reader is Tophs older sister who tries to leave her home when Toph join the Gaang? The MC is an outcast in her family, even by Toph. Toph doesnt want her to join because she claims she cant bend so shed be useless, this makes Sokka defend her and she joins along. The real reason shes an outcast in her family tho, is because shes a fire bender, and she has to hide her secret, only reavling the truth by accident after protecting Sokka in battle.
i absolutely loved this concept and i finally managed to finish this fic, i am so sorry for the long ass wait, but i'm starting to catch up on some old requests. hope you like it!
•••
Secrets (Sokka x Fem!Reader)
Warnings: none i think
Genre: Fluff i guess
Fandom: Avatar The Last Airbender
Summary: See request
Word Count: 1938
Reader uses she/her pronouns
•••
Being home was too much for (Y/N). She felt like she was invisible in her own family. The Beifongs had taken her in when she was little, but when they found out that she was a firebender, things changed completely.
When Toph was little, they were quite close, but then her parents managed to break them apart. They'd tell Toph that she was dangerous but also that she was useless because she couldn't bend.
So during the last few years, she felt like an outcast. She would go to the ring most of the time and analyze the movements of the fighters, trying to train herself. She eventually managed to improve her firebending, which had an unique style based on earthbending, but she still had a lot to learn.
She stopped going to the ring once she realized that Toph was the Blind Bandit, she didn't want to run into her outside of the house, but kept practicing on her own.
But suddenly one day the Avatar came to her home. He was looking for an earthbender teacher and she immediately knew that the person he was interested in was Toph. Dinner was a little awkward, but once everyone was ready for bed, things seemed much calmer.
(Y/N) was outside the house, enjoying the fresh air of the night when suddenly, she heard her sister talking.
''Even though I was born blind, I've never had a problem seeing. I see with earthbending. It's kind of like seeing with my feet, '' she said. ''I feel the vibrations in the earth, and I can see where everything is-- you, that tree, even those ants. And also my sister around here somewhere,'' she chuckled at her words. Even though they didn't have the best relationship, it was nice hearing Toph call her her sister. It made her feel a bit normal, even if back at the house she was still an outcast.
She stopped paying attention to the two kids and lost herself in her thoughts, but she got out of her trance when she heard an unfamiliar voice. (Y/N) went running back to the house and desperately called her parents.
''What's the meaning of this?'' Asked her father, clearly annoyed at the noise.
''Toph and the Avatar! Someone took them!''
Everyone went outside, following her, and they realized that the captors had left a note.
''If you want to see your daughter again, bring 500 gold pieces to the arena,'' read the girl from the Water Tribe. ''And it's signed 'Xin Fu and The Boulder.'''
''Master Yu, I need you to help me get my daughter back.''
''We're going with you,'' said the waterbender.
''I wanna go, too,'' said (Y/N). She was looking at her father as the words left her mouth.
''No, you can't come, (Y/N), you-.''
''I don't care. I know you've broken the relationship between me and Toph, but she's still my sister and I want to go.''
''You're not a bender, (Y/N), it would only be for the worse.''
''You know I can help,'' she muttered, knowing that her father knew what she meant.
There was a small pause while they shared a look. ''Fine, you can come, but don't try to do anything you might regret.'' He walked away from her and soon they all headed towards the arena.
Once Toph was free, her father finally saw what she was capable of. The way back to the house was awkward, to say the least.
After the conversation that Toph had with her father, there was a bigger tension in the house than usual.
A few moments later, (Y/N) heard some noise close to her room, and when she opened the door a little, she realized that her sister was escaping. She considered the idea of staying home, of being the only Beifong daughter and she couldn't think of something worse.
So as fast as she could, she changed her clothes to something more comfortable and ran quietly outside.
"Wait, guys! Please!" Said (Y/N) while running towards the group. "I wanna come too," she told them. "Please?"
She could see how Aang, Katara and Sokka all started nodding with smiles on their faces, but whem she looked at Toph, her expression was completely different.
"You can't," said the girl.
"What? Why not?"
"Yeah, Toph, what's the problem?" Asked Katara.
"Look, (Y/N), I don't mean to offend you but why would you even come with us?"
"Because I don't belong here, and you know it."
"You're not a bender, you would only be a liability to us."
"Hey! Don't be like that, Toph!" Exclaimed Sokka.
(Y/N) already had some tears on her eyes but quickly got rid of them. She didn't want the others to see her cry.
Sokka got down from Appa and stood next to (Y/N). "(Y/N) is coming with us, okay? Now let's go, we don't want to waste any time." He grabbed the girl by the arm and helped her get on top of Appa.
During their whole journey away from the Beifongs' house, Sokka and (Y/N) talked a lot.
He liked having someone like him around, it made him feel like he wasn't so alone; and she liked feeling like someone cared a little bit about her.
-
The days went by and (Y/N) could finally tell that she'd found her new family. Even her relationship with her sister had improved significantly since they'd both left home.
Still, no one knew that she was actually a firebender. She hated lying to everyone but she also didn't know how to tell them; in her head, she thought that they wouldn't want her to be with them anymore, she was afraid.
"Hey, (Y/N)," she heard someone say. She looked up and saw Sokka standing next to her. He took a seat by her side. "What are you thinking about?"
"Hi, Sokka. It's nothing, really," she tried to sound convincing but knew that she'd failed. Out of everyone in the group, Sokka was the one she was closest to. She even had a little crush on him, and the fact that she was lying to him was destroying her.
"You always say that but I never believe you."
"I already told you, Sokka, I can't talk about it." She looked at him and he gave her a sympathetic look.
"You can tell me anything, (Y/N). And I promise I won't tell your secret to anyone else."
"No, I can't. You'd hate me if I told you, trust me."
"What? I could never hate you!" He exclaimed and she smiled a little. (Y/N) knew he believed what he was saying, but would it still be true even if he found out what she really was?
Sokka took one of the maps he'd taken from the library, trying to decipher it while still enjoying (Y/N)'s company.
"Waterbending bomb!" Katara yelled from afar, and then everyone saw her get into the water, splashing everyone.
"Sure, 5.000-year-old maps from the spirit library. Just splash some water on 'em," complained Sokka.
(Y/N) couldn't help but giggle a bit at his reaction.
They had to figure out a way to finally get to Ba Sing Se, and The Serpent's Pass seemed to be the only way, but that was until they met a couple that told them about the ferries.
However, the plan was a total failure, so the only option they had left was the dangerous Serpent's Pass.
It wasn't easy, but they eventually made it to the great city of Ba Sing Se. But there was something waiting for them there: a drill with the Fire Nation insignia on it.
It was obvious who was behind that, the Fire Nation princess herself, along with her two friends. Luckily, Sokka came up with a plan, they were going to take the drill down from the inside.
"Okay, we're gonna go with Toph and then we'll get inside of it, okay?" Sokka said.
They all nodded and got ready to go, but the earthbender suddenly stopped for a second.
"(Y/N), I think that you should stay here."
"What?" She was confused. They had been getting along a lot better lately, but that comment took her by surprise.
"You could get hurt, it's not safe. Plus, well, you can't bend and you know that."
"Toph, I can take care of myself, okay? I told you a million times before!"
"I know, but-."
"She's coming with us," interrupted Sokka. "She is one of us and we won't leave anyone behind, okay? And she's not helpless, Toph."
The little girl tried to say something, but the young boy didn't let her.
When they finally reached the drill, Toph stayed outside, and the rest of them went inside.
"I need a plan of this machine. Some schematics that show what the inside looks like. Then we can find its weak points."
"Where are we gonna get something like that?" Asked Aang.
"Maybe we should break something, then some engineer would have to come to fix it," suggested (Y/N).
"Good idea," said Sokka, and he got on with it.
Once they had the map, they knew what they'd have to do, but it wasn't going to be easy.
Aang and Katara had to cut through the braces of the structure, but they turned out to be a lot thicker than they thought. They luckily realized they didn't have to cut all the way through them, instead it was enough with just cutting a little to weaken them.
All of them were focused on the braces, so the only one that noticed the three Fire Nation girls was (Y/N). She realized Azula was about to blast some fire towards Sokka, and she quickly pushed him away and instinctively threw some fire at her, too.
Everyone was shocked, even the three girls that were trying to fight them, but there was no time for explanations.
Katara, Sokka and (Y/N) escaped through the pipeline and even though the battle wasn't over, as soon as they were out of the drill Sokka started interrogating (Y/N).
"You were a firebender this whole time? Why didn't you say anything? And why doesn't Toph know? I mean, she's your sister and- Wait," he made a pause, suddenly realising something. "That was your secret, right?"
She nodded slightly, and looked away to try and hide her blushing face.
"(Y/N), how could you think we would ever hate you for that? That I would hate you?" She could see the hurt in his face, and she hated herself for it.
"The Fire Nation is the enemy, so I guess I figured you wouldn't want me in your team anymore if you found out where I'm really from."
"(Y/N), you can't change where you come from, and we would never hate you for that," said Katara in a sweet voice, still using her bending against Ty Lee.
Sokka wrapped his arms against (Y/N), which took her by surprise, but she quickly wrapped hers around his waist. "Thank you for protecting me back there. And once again, I could never hate you, okay?" They pulled away just a little to look at each other and then he kissed her forehead.
They knew they were still in the middle of a battle and that Katara was just a few meters away from them, but right there in that moment, it didn't matter. It was only (Y/N) and Sokka, wrapped around eachothers' arms, finally starting to realize their feelings for one another.
•••
TAGLIST
@talas-starlight @just-a-belgian-girl @sorrythatspussynal @siriuslyslyslytherin
#sokka#sokka x reader#sokka imagine#sokka fanfic#sokka fic#sokka atla#sokka avatar#atla x reader#atla imagine#atla fanfic#atla#atla sokka#avatar x reader#avatar imagine#avatar fanfic
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For the drabbles - Nash Wells 61 & 70
61- Love confession
70- Locked in a room
The clang of metal on metal was making you want to pull your hair out.
“Will you stop that?” You snapped, glaring at Nash from your spot in the pipeline cell.
Nash stopped just before the wrench in hand could hit the sealed door again. “At least I’m trying to get us out of here.”
“You know as well as I do, a simple wrench isn’t going to break that door. You heard Cisco. Until they’ve dealt with this meta threat and restored regular power to the Labs, the pipeline is staying in hard lockdown mode.”
Nash huffed, tossing the wrench back into the toolbox by your feet before slumping down so he was sitting opposite. “I just...hate being idle.”
“You’re the one who volunteered to come help me fix the faulty wiring in here. I was happy to wait for Cisco.”
“Yeah...wish I hadn’t now. Then we wouldn’t be stuck.”
That made you laugh. “Look on the bright side, at least we have air conditioning now.”
Nash laughed with you, inclining his head. He checked the clock on his gauntlet and sighed again. “They’d better get this fixed quickly though.”
You watched him for a moment. He radiated anxious energy you’d never seen on him before like he was one step away from trying to dig his way out. “I am sorry. That you got stuck in here with me. I know you’d rather be anywhere else.”
“I’d rather not be in here, but I can think of worse places to be...and worse people to be with.”
You drew your knees up to your chest. “Could’ve fooled me. Usually, you can barely stand to be alone with me. I figured the only reason you even offered to help today was that you knew this needed to get fixed asap.”
You looked away, but you could feel Nash’s eyes stay on you. The silence between you both dragged on awkwardly for what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes until eventually, Nash cleared his throat. “It’s not you...it’s me.”
“Excuse me?”
“The reason I avoid being alone with you...it’s because of me. My thoughts. My...feelings.”
You finally met his eyes again. “I’m not following.”
Nash chewed his bottom. “This is Cisco’s fault,” he muttered, “he’s the one who said I should ease myself into it, but now we’re here and we’re stuck, and not saying anything will just make things worse and ruin any chance I have!”
“Nash, I don’t...ruin your chance of what?”
“Of...being with you.”
“...What?”
“I...I love you, Y/N.”
You stared at him, mouth opening and closing several times. “Nash-” Before you could finish your thought, an alarm sounded and the door Nash was leaning opened.
“Hope you guys managed not to murder each other in there,” Frost’s voice came through the intercom.
Nash was on his feet in an instant. “I’ll just...go.”
“Wait!” Before he could leave you grabbed his wrist. He looked at you surprised, eyebrows shooting up even more when you planted a kiss on his lips. “I love you too, moron.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“If you two are going to make out, can you at least get a more private room? No one wants to see that,” Cisco said overhead.
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Arkham Files: Peek-a-Boo
Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Lashawna Baez, alias Peek-a-Boo. Patient suffers from Major Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Session One. Hello, Miss Baez. How are you doing?
Peek-a-Boo: Why do you care? I’m a Rogue, remember? Just lock me up and throw away the key. That’s what Keystone did.
Hugo Strange: I wasn’t aware you were a member of the Rogues, Miss Baez. Your file suggests that you always work alone.
Peek-a-Boo: Not a Rogue as in the Rogues. A Rogue as in a costumed criminal.
Hugo Strange: I see. (Pause) I understand that you’re a metahuman, Miss Baez. Would you care to elaborate on that?
Peek-a-Boo: I can teleport. Unfortunately, every time I do it, it causes a localized explosion. I was hoping to be able to overcome it, and maybe even use it in my career as a doctor, but a year after I entered medical school, dad’s kidneys started to fail. My mom had died of lung cancer when I was six, and I don’t have siblings, so I had to take care of him by myself. After awhile, it became too much for me to balance my classes with taking care of Dad. Dad wanted me to stay in school, because he had been so proud of me for being the first member of our family to go to college, but I couldn’t just leave him alone at home. What if he got really sick when I wasn’t home? So I dropped out. I tried everything to get him a new kidney, but we were poor and black, so we kept getting pushed back on the list. After a couple years, it was pretty clear that dad was never getting his kidney, so I made the really stupid decision to take the kidney by force. I knew that it was wrong, but I convinced myself that I’d been wronged first, and that that justified what I was about to do. The Flash-Wally West, not Barry Allen-stopped me. I’m pretty sure he thought I’d get community service or something, seeing as I didn’t have any previous criminal record, but because I was a metahuman, I got sent to Iron Heights instead.
Hugo Strange: If that’s the case, Miss Baez, why is your record so extensive? Your files list several thefts prior to your arrest for the attempted kidney theft.
Peek-a-Boo: That…that was Warden Wolfe. When the Flash learned that I’d been sent to Iron Heights, he tried to get me out, but as soon as I was put into Iron Heights’ system, Wolfe had my records altered so that he could justify keeping me in Iron Heights with the other “metahuman freaks”. Wally’s been trying to prove what he’s done ever since, but it hasn’t done any good. Nobody in power cares about what happens to a metahuman criminal-especially not a poor, black one. I’m just another superpowered thug now.
Hugo Strange: Mr. Desmond mentioned that metahuman inmates are kept in a separate wing of the prison called the Pipeline. Were you housed there, Miss Baez?
Peek-a-Boo: Up until I got moved here, yeah.
Hugo Strange: Mr. Desmond alleged that prisoners in the Pipeline are regularly beaten. Is that accurate, Miss Baez?
Peek-a-Boo: W-will this interview get back to Warden Wolfe?
Hugo Strange: I’m going to take that as confirmation that Mr. Desmond’s allegations are true.
Peek-a-Boo: Don’t say anything, Dr. Strange! If Warden Wolfe finds out that we complained, things’ll get even worse for us when we get sent back to Iron Heights!
Hugo Strange: Miss Baez, I promise you that I have no intention of ever allowing you to be sent back into the clutches of this Warden Wolfe. What he has done to you in unconscionable.
Peek-a-Boo: You…you believe me?
Hugo Strange: Of course I believe you, Miss Baez. For one thing, your records from your time as a medical student were not particularly compatible with the idea of you having multiple previous arrests. And for another, the fact that you managed to escape Iron Heights in order to see your dying father, but did not use your powers to escape in order to free yourself or to commit more crimes also would not make much sense for a habitual offender. For these reasons, I was already skeptical of your criminal record. Hearing your explanation simply reinforced what I suspected from the start. (Pause) And, having interviewed numerous costumed criminals, Miss Baez, I can say with confidence that you do not strike me as the type who is likely to become a habitual offender. You have more than paid your debt to society for your attempted theft of the kidney, and I will do everything in my power to see that you are released from Arkham Aslyum as soon as possible.
Peek-a-Boo: (Surprised) Really? You will?
Hugo Strange: I will, Miss Baez.
Peek-a-Boo: Thank you, Dr. Strange. I…I don’t know how much luck you’ll have, but I appreciate the thought anyway.
Hugo Strange: You are quite welcome, my dear. (Pause) While you’re here, would you mind answering a few more questions for me?
Peek-a-Boo: I guess not. What do you want to know?
Hugo Strange: First, I am curious as to how Roscoe Dillon, one of the most powerful metahumans in the Central/Keystone area, has avoided being locked up in the Pipeline. Mr. Desmond claims that it is because of his known mental illness, but if Warden Wolfe was willing to fudge records to keep you in the Pipeline, I would think he would be even more willing to fudge records in order to keep control over someone who threatened to blow up half the world, while in the grip of a manic episode or otherwise.
Peek-a-Boo: Actually, the Top hasn’t avoided the Pipeline entirely.
Hugo Strange: He hasn’t?
Peek-a-Boo: No. You see, after I had been in Iron Heights for a couple of weeks, Warden Wolfe heard that someone was going to interview me. In the hopes of convincing me not to talk to them, he ordered the Pipeline guards to put me in the cell with “the lunatic”, and they shoved me into a filthy padded cell with a large, muscular man. He had these really unsettling glowing green eyes, and I thought for sure that he would attack me, but he didn’t. Instead, he just looked at me curiously and went back to muttering to himself. Over the next couple of days, his hygiene started deteriorating rapidly…and by the end of the week, he tried to hang himself with his straitjacket. I’m still not really sure how he got it off, but somehow he did, and if I hadn’t called for the guards, he would’ve died. Luckily, one of the guards was Correctional Officer Morrison, who always treated us well. He never participated in the beatings, and he always tried to make sure that we were healthy. When he took the Top to the infirmary and found out about his Bipolar Disorder, he was furious and told Warden Wolfe that if he didn’t move him out of the Pipeline immediately, he would quit. He said that he wasn’t going to be responsible for someone committing suicide. Warden Wolfe got mad, but because Officer Morrison is really good at his job, he had to agree to let the Top go. Officer Morrison tried to help me, too, but because I didn’t have any previously diagnosed mental illnesses, he wasn’t able to get me moved out of the Pipeline.
Hugo Strange: That sounds as though it would have been incredibly traumatic.
Peek-a-Boo: It was. I had nightmares about him trying to hang himself for months afterwards. (Pause) And it didn’t exactly help that Warden Wolfe had some of the other guards give me the worst beating of my life a few days afterwards. Apparently, since he hadn’t been able to scare me into agreeing not to be interviewed, he decided to physically prevent me from being able to be interviewed to make sure that I stayed put.
Hugo Strange: That is despicable. I understand that a warden sometimes needs to be strict in order to maintain order in a prison, but that does not excuse the abuse of prisoners, especially not first-time offenders and the mentally ill. Rest assured that I will do everything in my power to see Warden Wolfe removed from power.
Peek-a-Boo: Good luck with that. He’s got ties to the D.A. and the mayor’s office. The Flashes, Iris West, Linda Park, and a couple civil rights lawyers have been trying to remove him from power for over two years now, and still haven’t gotten anywhere. It’s hopeless.
Hugo Strange: (Concerned) Miss Baez, have you had trouble with sleeping or eating recently?
Peek-a-Boo: Yes. I haven’t slept properly since I was sent to Iron Heights, and I haven’t had much of an appetite since I watched the Top try to kill himself.
Hugo Strange: Have you had any panic attacks in the last six months, Miss Baez?
Peek-a-Boo: Except for the nightmares, which mostly stopped a few weeks after that really awful beating, no. My anxiety’s been through the roof since my father first got sick, though. All I can think about some days is about the bad things that could happen to me or to people I care about.
Hugo Strange: I see. And have you experienced feelings of persistent sadness, worthlessness, or hopelessness?
Peek-a-Boo: Now that you mention it…yes. I…I haven’t felt happy since my father got sick, and once he passed away….some days I almost wish that I had died, too. (Pause) Sometimes I think that maybe the Top had the right idea when he tried to kill himself. Once a metahuman is convicted of a crime, their life is over.
Hugo Strange: (Alarmed) Are you planning to kill yourself, Miss Baez?
Peek-a-Boo: No. I don’t think I could actually go through with something like that. (Pause) It’s just…I don’t see how things will ever get better for me. I know you want to help me, and I really appreciate it, but Warden Wolfe is too powerful. You’ll never be able to get me out of his grasp, and he’ll certainly never let me go.
Hugo Strange: Miss Baez, I will forge the necessary paperwork needed to have you committed to Arkham Asylum before I will send you back to that sadist. Your Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder have been severely worsened by your stay in Iron Heights, and if you are sent back there, I dread to think what might happened. It was only through your quick thinking and a stroke of good luck that Mr. Dillon was saved from his attempted suicide. Who would save you?
Peek-a-Boo: I…I really appreciate your concern for me, Dr. Strange. But I don’t want you to get into trouble for me. I’m not worth it. It’s my own fault that I ended up in Iron Heights.
Hugo Strange: While I don’t disagree that your decision to steal a kidney was reckless and foolhardy, it was also the action of a desparate young woman who wanted to save her father’s life. You would never have become a habitual criminal, and the fact that you were sent to Iron Heights solely because of your metahuman powers was a miscarriage of justice…to say nothing of the abuse you were given once you arrive there. You are not a hardened criminal by any stretch of the imagination, and you do not belong in Iron Heights.
Peek-a-Boo: That’s what Wally said, too, but even with all his power, he couldn’t get me away from Warden Wolfe. What makes you think you can?
Hugo Strange: Unlike the misguided Mr. West, I am not a vigilante. As such, I have an extensive amount of experience of working within the law, and that experience will allow me to beat Warden Wolfe at his own game. Miss Baez, I swear to you that I will keep you safe and help you recover from your illness. All you need do is trust me.
Peek-a-Boo: All right, Dr. Strange. I…I trust you.
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begin again
for @rhodeslabs‘ prompt: "OK I HAD AN IDEA A FEW DAYS AGO FOR SAMTONY THAT I THOUGHT YOU'D LOVE. Ok so teacher!Sam with single parent!Tony AU where Sam is the best teacher for Tony kid of your choice :)". major shout-out to @omg-just-peachy for the beta and @warmachinesocks for sensitivity reading!!
i’m super proud of this fic, i put a lot into it, so please consider reblogging, and leaving a comment if you liked it!!
//
There isn’t a specific rule against having opinions on your kid’s parents, but Sam knows that it’s not the done thing.
As a teacher, he may know a lot about his kids, but he learns next to nothing about the people raising them. He doesn’t know their work schedules, or what goes on in their private lives, hell - sometimes he doesn’t even know their names until he meets them at a PTA meeting. It’s bad form to judge people you don’t know, and it’s even worse to judge them through the very biased lens of their kids.
There’s exceptions of course, like the kinds of folks who leave bruises on their kids - but for the most part, passing judgement on parents isn’t standard procedure.
That doesn’t stop Sam from fiercely hating Lila Rhodes’ old man with every fiber of his being.
//
Sam never imagined himself as an elementary school teacher.
His father was Air Force right up until the day he died, just like his father before him, and there was never any question about whether Sam would follow in the family tradition. He enlisted right before college, because if he was going to give away the rest of his life to the military, the least they could do is pay for the next four years of his life. He picks an English degree, because it’s easy enough that he’ll actually be able to enjoy college and not find himself holed up in a library - but not too obscure that he can’t do anything with it after.
Not that Sam ever plans on using his degree, but his Ma mentioned that it was good to have a back-up plan. Just in case.
He graduates Summa Cum Laude on a Friday morning, and catches the evening train to Texas for Basic Military Training. There’s no break, no pause, no hesitation about who he’s going to be or what he’s going to do. He has his orders by the end of the year, and only has time to make a quick phone call to his sister to let her know where he’s gonna go and make her promise that she’ll tell the family before he’s on the first flight out.
In truth, Sam enlisted because it was the thing to do. There was never a time in his life when he considered another path, when he was allowed to consider another path. But now that he’s here, he finds that he loves it. All that bullshit they say about the military giving you a sense of purpose? It’s true.
Still, there’s an itch under his skin, something that keeps tugging at him that’s telling him he can do more, be more - so when it trickles down the pipeline that the Brass is looking for two flyboys to test out the experimental EXO flight-suits, Sam jumps at the chance.
It takes about six months for him to retrain as a paramedic, which is more than enough time for him to get to know his new partner, Riley Evans - but when Sam puts on the EXO-1 FALCON and kicks off the ground; everything in him settles.
It’s a stupid way to describe the feeling - but it feels like everything in his life has been leading up to this very moment, Sam in the sky with honest to god wings, Riley on his left, and nothing but the open sky around them.
There’s others in their unit - in total, there’s about 8 members of the 58th Squadron, but Sam knows that he and Riley are the best. The others are good, there’s no doubt about it, but they don’t come close to the kind of stats that Sam and Riley have.
It’s exhilarating work, saving people instead of killing them, and it makes the blood in Sam’s veins thrum. He can’t write home about it, because the 58th is shrouded under all sorts of covert operations and need-to-know missions, but he tries his best to let his family know that he’s happy.
That he's more than happy, that he’s found his purpose, he’s found himself a brother, that he finally gets what his father meant when he said there’s nothing like a life in the service, son.
It’s the best three years of his life, and then everything goes to shit.
It’s a routine training session, not even an operation, and Riley’s doing loop-de-loops around Sam and generally being a dumbass. The wings have been upgraded recently, more manoeuvrability and decreased weight, and Riley’s making sure he gets his promised full range of motion.
He shoots up, yelling something that gets lost in the wind, and Sam watches as he goes up, and up and up - and then just as abruptly, he goes down.
It takes a couple of seconds for Sam to realise that Riley isn’t slowing down, that he isn’t flying down - he’s falling down; and those precious seconds cost Riley his life.
Later, he’ll hear people say that it wasn’t his fault. That there was some sort of malfunction in the wings, that Riley went too high too fast and the shift in altitude caused something to break.
Sam knows the truth though.
He catches Riley’s arm just as Riley hits the ground, his head lolled back and body limp, and rushes him to the med-camp, screaming so loud his voice goes hoarse. They rush him inside, a large burly man stopping Sam from following, and Sam stands there for five hours, in the blazing sun, catching glimpses of the doctors working as the wind moves the tent.
He stands there, un-moving, until someone steps out of the tent, caked in blood, and solemnly tells Sam that they’re very sorry, and they did everything they could.
Sam files his discharge papers the very next day.
Sarah picks him up at the airport.
//
She’s waiting for him outside, leaning against her car and furiously texting someone, so Sam sees her before she sees him. He’s split between being grateful that he doesn’t have to hail a cab, because those are next to impossible to catch from Louis Armstrong Intl Airport to Delacroix and he does not feel like renting a car - and being annoyed because he thought he had a couple of hours before someone was going to start asking him questions.
“You didn’t have to do this y’know,” Sam says when he’s close enough, and Sarah looks up with wide eyes, expression softening into a smile when she sees him, “I could’ve caught myself a cab.”
“That’s what I told Mama, but you think she listened?” Sam steps into his sister’s arms to accept the proffered hug, “Her baby boy coming home on his own? Like the fully grown man he is? Perish the thought.”
“You know I’m her favourite,” Sam wiggles his eyebrows, throwing his bags into the trunk of the car and making his way over to the passenger side, “I don’t get why you gotta be so mad about it.”
“Trust me, everybody and their mother in Delacroix knows you’re our mother’s favourite. There’s a little shrine for you next to the cash register. Any day now she’s gonna start leaving out candles next to your photo like you’re the second Jesus.”
Sam rubs at his chin, “You know - there’s been a couple of girls, and guys who’ve made that mistake before.”
The only reason Sarah doesn’t reach out and slap him upside on his head is because she’s driving, and Sam’s never been more thankful for his sister’s hyper-focus on road safety. She packs a mean punch.
They fall into a companionable silence, the kind cultivated by knowing each other for their whole lives, but Sam knows she’s biting back her questions.
“It’s okay,” he says finally, because you have to rip the band-aid off fast to lessen the pain and all that jazz, “You can ask.”
“I don’t got nothing to ask,” Sarah says immediately, like it’s a rehearsed answer, “but Mama thinks you’ve been hiding some major injury from us. Like a missing leg or something.”
Sam huffs at the non-question, “I got all my limbs Sarah. All ten fingers and toes I promise.”
There’s a beat and then - “My partner died on my watch. Fell out of the sky during a training exercise. I couldn’t stay there after that.”
Sarah hums, “You know what you’re going to do now you’re back home?”
Sam shakes his head, even though Sarah isn’t looking at him, “I have no idea.”
read the rest on ao3!!
#my writing#ironfalcon#samtony#sam wilson/tony stark#sam wilson x tony stark#sam x tony#sam/tony#begin again#teacher sam wilson#parent tony stark#genius lila rhodes#alternate universe
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Kerrang Issue #1103 (Sources 1, 2)
Photo Credit: Jeremy Harris
Magazine Release Date: 2006
Issue Label: April 15th, 2006
Transcription below the cut (translated by google from Spanish):
You're not in this alone
April 15, 2006
Kerrang April 15th, 2006
Lostprophets & My Chemical Romance
When it comes to million dollar studios / mansions, Los Angeles, where My Chemical Romance is currently doing pre-production for their new - and as yet untitled - album, is very impressive. Built in 1920 for a silent film star, it is covered in such a way as to simulate an Asian palace, with panoramic views of the city, an outdoor swimming pool, acres of gardens, and - according to vocalist Gerard Way - a ghost that opens and closes doors and even takes baths. Gerard crawled out of bed at noon as his old friend, Ian Watkins is coming soon. He and the Lostprophets frontman will meet to discuss their future performances on 'Give It A Name' - a festival that will see them perform to 30,000 people in two days.
When Ian appears the two greet each other genuinely affectionate, talking about many things; from Gerard's art to Bono's sunglasses and, of course, the ghost guest Gerard admits to fear. The two singers are pleasant company, laughing, joking and obviously relaxed, interrupting and finishing each other's sentences as close friends usually do.
When did you meet?
Gerard: It was at the Slims, in San Francisco and Lostprophets was running a show with Head Automatica. I didn't know them, so I got on his bus and he was the coolest singer I've ever met.
Haven't you met singers before, back then?
Gerard:I had met a few, but singers are usually weird guys. They often have a 'lead singer vibe' and he didn't have one, he was so kind, respectful and personable.
Ian: We knew his manager because he had toured with bands that we had toured with. Even before the first My Chemical Romance album came out, he was already talking all day about them. He sent me the record when it came out and I used to listen to it all the time, it was fucking awesome. Did they get along immediately? Gerard: Yeah. I think everyone in both bands hit it off right away. They were down to earth guys. We hadn't met anyone as great as them, so it was a huge impression on our band that they had that attitude. Ian:
And after that, we keep crashing at events, anywhere, like in Japan….
Gerard: That is a very funny story! You have to fly everywhere when you play (at the Japanese festival) Summer Sonic; you can't drive because Japan is made of a lot of big islands. This was when he still used to get screwed. It was one of the last times that I was drunk or high, actually… Ian was in front of me on the plane and he was turning around to try to have a conversation with me, but he couldn't.
Ian: I hadn't realized it at first. I was talking about the songs on the album I was thinking about…
Gerard:… And at one point I just thought 'I can't deal with this man'. I felt really bad about that I had already thrown up more than I had ever seen in my damn life while trying to get my pills; we were sharing a bus on the way to the plane. I must have looked like the most broke asshole. I was ashamed all the way.
How often do you get together?
Gerard: I would say once every five months, maybe more often. We always collide.
Ian: Yes, when you go on tours you always bump into someone. The strangest thing was when I was in New York, having a snack ...
Gerard:Oh yeah! And we just meet! We were on our way to a place called 'Toy Tokyo', which is one of our favorite stores. We passed a restaurant and Ian was sitting there hanging out.
Ian: They came by and I was like 'Oh shit!' because it was so unexpected.
Gerard: And then we did a full US tour together and it was fun, but Lostprophets was still on the UK schedule, so they would fall asleep on the bus at odd hours and stay up all night.
Ian: That was before the My Chemical Romance record took off, so it was before they became rock stars! But it was cool because we did our own shows on off days.
Gerard:Yes, it was fun doing our shows together, because there was always the same vibe.
Do you keep in touch when you are not on tour?
Gerard: Yes, Sidekick! (controlled email senders)
Ian: You're never in yours! He used to be online all day, but now he's very cool for it.
Gerard: I think I changed my username, but I didn't tell anyone, I just hoped they would notice! So no one talks to me now!
They grew up in places as remote as New Jersey and Wales, what common areas do they share?
Ian: I think we are both working class.
Gerard:When you come from a working class place, you have to leave soon or you will be stuck there forever. Jersey is definitely that kind of place. It's very different if you live somewhere in Los Angeles…
Ian: You don't need to try here, you can go to clubs and gigs every day in LA. It is very easy to believe that you are someone in LA until you realize that there is a whole world outside. It's like the same as London and New York.
Gerard: Yes, but to come from the places that we come from; Where you have shitty jobs, you realize that you are nobody.
Ian: And if you want to do something, make a difference or at least enjoy life, you really have to work your ass off.
Gerard:What's the most shitty job you had in Wales?
Ian: I worked in Iceland. A frozen food store.
Gerard: Oh wow that's weird because my first shitty job was at a frozen food stand at a supermarket. They're both sober now, but Gerard wasn't when they first met: Did his using drugs and alcohol affect their friendship? Gerard: No Ian: I just didn't realize I had a problem! Gerard: Yes, apart from that plane trip. But even though he had a problem, I think the press made him look worse than he already was. When we did that tour together, I was already clean.
The two are working on new albums. Has either listened to each other's new songs?
Gerard: No. We haven't played anything for anyone.
People are predicting that they will both transcend the rock scene and come back with a more pop album this time. Is there any truth to that?
Gerard: I think that's what they expect us to do! On the other hand, some people may believe that our album will be more aggressive to compensate for that.
Ian: A lot of bands do that and screw themselves up. They succeed and say 'we have to prove that we are real' and confuse being real with being shit.
Gerard:That is completely true. So people might expect a more aggressive record from us, or maybe one that makes a lot less sense. But I wouldn't say it's more pop, although it's prettier.
Did you see a lot of bands growing up?
Gerard: Yes, because our only escape was to go and find the local show. There were two places that I would go, ' The Pipeline ' and ' Studio One '. The latter was completely hardcore, bands like Downset, Madball, Dog eat dog…
Ian: Dog Eat Dog! Dammit!
Gerard:The most taboo thing there was as a teenager was Slayer. The [Anti-obscenity lobby] PMRC was so big in the US that they made it almost impossible to get their records. They thought Slayer was satanic. You couldn't get WASP or Venom records, but Slayer was a sure door to evil! I remember when I got 'South of Heaven'; it made a big impression on me. Have you been in front of any other band performance? Gerard: Not in the mosh zone, but I was on the floor for Slim's once. Most of the time, I watch from the side of the stage. Ian:
Everything is ground at Slim's! That was a great show, because we met there. As I said; We got to know each other before these guys took off, and that's nice because I think meeting them after that would have been kind of weird.
So is it weird to meet bands that are already big?
Ian: Yes, because they don't care. As Gerard was saying, singers sometimes have attitudes and it is strange to meet a successful band that is still humble. I don't think My Chemical Romance would have been like that but bands get very reluctant when meeting people. They think 'you only want to be my friend because you want something.' It was great meeting Gerard before they grew up, because I know our friendship is honest.
Do things change when you get to the same level as other bands?
Ian: If we played in the US now, My Chemical Romance would top the list, whereas last time we were on them, but that's okay.
Gerard: Yes, when you go out with a band that you love, there is respect and it shows on stage. But if you play with a band that you don't respect, then you go out and destroy them.
Ian: And it's not like we release two albums at the same time. We left and their time came.
So what if both albums were out at the same time? Would they be aware of the other's sales position?
Gerard: Well we're both rock bands, but we offer something very different to people, so I don't feel in competition with these guys.
Ian:If they were assholes it would be horrible to see them get so successful, because it sucks to see idiots doing well. The only thing they do is add to your stupidity! But when you like band music it's always great to see that they do well.
Gerard: Yes, you will always be supporting your friends even if they are kicking your ass!
Ian: And if they're kicking your butt, it just makes you work harder- It's not a sour rivalry, it's a great thing -a friendship and respect.
My Favorite My Chemical Romance Song (by Ian Watkins)
I love 'You know what they do to guys like us in prison'. The first time I listened to their second album, that song grabbed me as soon as it started playing. It had some really cool changes; the way it starts off with a piano staccato, and the lyrics are fantastic. It conjured up a lot of images and I liked the fact that the verse is on the piano.
My Favorite Lostprophets Song (by Gerard Way)
It's easily 'Last Train Home'! When we were working on Three Cheers for sweet revenge, that damn video came out every five minutes and no one could help but sing it. We were saying 'Man, this is great!' I think the chorus is really beautiful. They weren't trying to capitalize on some kind of junk-young culture, the song really meant something, especially when they were playing it live. If someone is really honest with a song, it will always become a favorite song, and that one really stood out.
Translation: Liz
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Holy Grail War where Guda is their summoner's weird back-alley encounter one night, then ghosts them for two days straight without an explanation and then seamlessly sets themselves up in the next-door apartment. They never explain what a holy grail is, and they're human-passing if they take sufficient precautions, and five months in it's just them and one enemy servant left. Guda goes drinking with them every Tuesday.
The first time you meet your new neighbor, you almost have a heart attack.
“Ma’am! Do you need any help with that?”
Face mask, sunglasses, leather gloves. They stand hover above you, and it dawns on you that you’re about to get mugged.
“No, no, it’s fine.” You steel your spine and straighten your back- and immediately wince. Old age has not been kind to you. “I’m fine. Really.”
The youth chuckles- they sound genuinely amused. Since you can barely see their face at all, you can’t read any of their emotions. It’s unnerving. “Don’t be silly, ma’am.” They take hold of the heaviest of your grocery bags. “Where do you live? I’ll walk you there.”
And you can’t really do anything but agree, can you? Ah, it has been a good life, at least. You suppose there are worse ways to go than...
... actually guided home by a yakuza? Who bids you goodbye and just leaves?
... Wait, they were being honest with the offer to help?
*
The youth, you learn quickly (for there is no better intel than old lady gossip) goes by Ritsuka Fujimaru, is probably not part of any yakuza group, and works part-time at the okonomiyaki place down the street.
Their apartment is also two rooms away from yours, which is why you keep running into them.
“Ma’am!” They wave at you excitedly. Their face is still covered. Apparently, they’re just that allergic to showing any important patch of skin. “You shouldn’t stay around these parts, ma’am. Haven’t you heard? A pipeline exploded yesterday.”
Huh, really? There has been a lot of these kind of accidents lately. You didn’t know another one exploded in the area.
This city really needs to get it together. You remember another serie of accidents like this when you were a kid. You’d think in sixty years infrastructure would get better.
“Ma’am! Ah, it’s good to see you sticking to safe paths.”
“Ma’am! Ah, you really ought to check the news! The next street is closed up! It shouldn’t last long, but better safe than sorry, right?”
“Ma’am! Let’s walk home together! I just finished my shift. Are you coming back from the market?”
“Ma’am! This looks heavy, do you need help? Oh, this is new! How do you cook that?”
*
One day, you go out, and you don’t see them. You don’t bat an eye.
The next day, they’re still not here. It’s not the first time that happens.
The next day, still no Fujimaru. Now this is a little weird.
The next day, they’re still absent. You’re getting worried.
“They’re on sick leave.” The okonomiyaki place tells you. “They should be back by tomorrow.”
Sick?
You frown. They’re a weird folk, but you’ve grown to like the youngster. Do they even know how to take care of themself? You remember when you were just getting started into adulthood and boy that wasn’t pretty.
So, you walk determinedly to the youth’s apartment, and knock.
At first there is silence. Then a ruffled sound. Then, a voice. “One moment!”
So you wait.
... quite some time.
After what seems like an eternity, but most likely was only a minute, the door opens up. “Hi ma’am! What brings you here?” And you can’t help but flinch.
They look the same as usual. Sunglasses, face mask, and gloves. The same, no sicker, no healthier.
Three scars like slashes come across their right eye.
They have a sheepish laugh. “Ah, sorry. I didn’t have time to put on my make-up.”
Make-up? To cover the scars?
You look them over. Sunglasses, face mask, gloves. At first you’d assumed they were some kind of delinquent. At first you’d assumed they didn’t want to be recognized.
Ah, sorry. I didn’t have time to put on my make-up.
Ah.
You think you understand now.
“... Would you like to have dinner with me?” Originally, you wanted to bring them some chicken soup and be done with it, but what little of their apartment you can see behind them seems... unfit to host people. You wonder how they manage to live in it. It’s just... so full. Toys and tools and papers as if they could barely focus on one task at once. Where did they even fit their bed?
“Ah.” They click their tongue. “That’s very nice, ma’am, but I don’t think-”
“I’ll look the other way while you eat.” You say. “If you really don’t want me to see your face.”
They stay silent. For a few seconds, you can’t even hear them breathe.
“...Okay.”
*
It starts with chicken soup on a sick day. Then it turns into a small chat every two week. Then a meal every week.
After two months, you’ve gotten into the habit of hosting Fujimaru over twice a week.
They’re comfortable enough to remove their sunglasses when you’re the only one here, now. One of their eye is blank. The other one rarely ever focuses on you when you speak to them.
Weirdly enough, their eye is about the least interesting thing about Fujimaru.
"And there! That’s how you make mocassins.” They’re beaming. You can’t see their mouth, but you’re sure they’re smiling. “Friend of mine taught me how to make these.”
“You seem to have a lot of odd friends.”
“Oh, definitely. But that’s just how life is, y’know?”
Somehow, you get the feeling that their life isn’t exactly what you’d call “average.”
*
It takes another month for them to take off the face mask.
... Huh.
“Hyperdontia.” That’s the only explanation they give you. You don’t press them. Not about their teeth, not about their eye, not about their soot-like skin under their gloves. From what you’ve seen, it’s a miracle that Fujimaru ended up somewhat functional despite whatever stacked that many scars on them.
“Say, ma’am,” they ask between two bites of food, “if you could have any wish fulfilled, what would you want?”
“A wish?” You raise an eyebrow. “I’m a little old to believe in genies, don’t you think?”
“Humor me.” They set their chin on their palm. “Any wish at all. What would you wish for?”
Any wish...
A few months back, you’d probably have answered ‘a friend,’ or something cheesy like that. Life can be... lonely, when one is as old as you, with no kid or nephew to speak of.
But now, well...
“... no, I can’t think of anything. I’m good.”
They blink. Evidently, they were not expecting that answer.
“... You’re a good person, you know that?”
Their teeth are long and sharp. Somehow, it doesn’t stop their smile from being incredibly sweet.
*
Fujimaru has a friend.
Well, multiple, obviously. Fujimaru looks kind of scary at first, but give them the occasion to chat you up, and they will not let you leave unfriended. But what you mean by that is that Fujimaru has a friend.
“I saw Caster the other day!” They always look giddy talking about Caster. You’re hesitant to call it puppy love, but evidently, this person means a lot to them.
Here’s what you know about Caster:
- They act like an old man
- They look young enough that Fujimaru has to be the one to buy alcohol when they hang out
- They’ve got Opinion on writing
“So, you write too, Fujimaru?” You ask, after the third time they retell you about some writing discourse or another.
“Mh? Oh, yeah. sometimes.” They rub the back of their neck. “Well, not really. There’s just this one thing I’ve been writing over and over again, so.”
(They do that a lot. Repetitive things, you mean. Sometimes, they repeat something they’ve just told you. Sometimes, they do the same action twice, thrice in a row, as if they’d forgotten they’d already done it.)
(The scars on their face looks deep. You think they might have some mild brain damage, but again, this isn’t your place to ask.)
“What is it about?” You ask, because you’re genuinely interested.
They look down, and seem suddenly very interested in scratching the underneath of their nails.
“... It’s a little silly.” They finally say. “I had this friend, you see.”
You nod. Do go on. For all the time you’ve spent with Fujimaru, you know surprisingly little about their past.
“He was great. Incredible! He knew so much. And he was kind! And resourceful. He could always get someone out of a bind even when himself had next to nothing to work with. I owe him a lot.”
“He sounds pretty great.”
They nod excitedly. “That’s who I’m writing about. My friend.” They pause, for a second, as if unsure if they should continue. When they speak again, their voice is a little lower, as if telling a secret.
“There is power in stories, you know? If it’s written down, then it’s real. In a way. Not real real. But real in a way that matters. Once a story is weaved, you can’t unmake it. Even if no one knows of it. Even if it gets burned down afterwards. There is power in stories.”
It’s a good thing that they don’t ask you if you’ve understood, because you certainly hadn’t. But they go on.
“That’s what I’m writing about. My friend. I’m writing a story about him. Some meaningless slice of life thing. A regular day at work. Getting coffee in the morning. Saying hi to his daughter. Feeling the wind on his face. That’s what I’m writing. Normal life stuff.”
They tilt their head back, look at your roof.
“... It’s the least I can give to him. It’s the only thing I can give to him. A story in which he lives.”
*
It’s been six months since you’ve met Fujimaru, when they ask you with the utmost seriousness: “Do you believe in lucky charms?”
“As much as the next person.” You shrug. It’s very much a maybe maybe not to you. You don’t care all that much.
“Okay. That’s good.” Fujimaru smiles. It’s weird, how used you’ve become to these teeth. How comforting the sight of scars can become. “See, there’s this one lucky charm I wanted to give you. Something of a spell if you ever need me and I’m not here.”
? Well, why not. It wouldn’t be the strangest of Fujimaru’s quirks.
“Okay, listen up. Don’t repeat what I’m going to say. You can only say it one day where you really mean it, okay?” They lean towards you and cup their hands around your ear. Their breath is almost anormaly warm. “It goes something like this. By the power of my Command Spell, I ask of you...”
#fate#fate grand order#fgo#ritsuka fujimaru#guda#my writing#WELL.#THAT WENT WILDLY OUT OF HANDS.#MY BAD.#Anonymous
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Prior to the pandemic, Frank Patterson would spend most days at the sprawling production facility, formerly known as Pinewood Atlanta Studios, that he runs outside of Atlanta. Then COVID-19 hit, and not even he was able to make his health and safety team's cut of essential on-site personnel.
"They were like, 'Frank, why are you here? You're setting a bad example,' " says the president and CEO of what is now Trilith Studios, the in-demand filming location known for hosting a suite of Marvel projects, including WandaVision and Avengers: Endgame.
Since Patterson took the reins in 2016, he's transformed the place from a set of soundstages to a full-fledged film community. After divesting from the Pinewood Group, Patterson led investments in new technologies and content companies, as well as expanded Trilith's footprint. The result is a 935-acre master development that includes the studio as well as a European-inspired town including homes, restaurants and schools that serve as a live-work community for the many creatives on the lot.
In a wide-ranging conversation, Patterson, 59, opened up about the most challenging aspect of COVID-era production, the studio's biggest concerns and whether he'll mandate vaccines.
You've had multiple projects in production during COVID-19. How has it been going?
We've been very fortunate. We had the first studio feature in the industry back to work in June. I can't say what it is, but they'll be finished soon. It was an intense amount of research and work to put together protocols, recognizing that the disaster version looks like an outbreak. None of that's happened. We've had enormously low numbers of positive tests. And we have a full lot: 3,200 people drove on today.
How much more expensive is it to make a film or show right now?
It's costing about 20 percent more money and 20 percent more time. Things are slower and clunkier and it's taking more space. But the good news is cast and crew are taking safety very seriously. I'm sure you heard the story of Tom Cruise getting upset at the crew for not following protocols [on Mission: Impossible 7]. I don't think that's common. What we have found is with the exception of the day player — they tend to test positive more than the average crewmember — people are taking care of themselves.
A year in, how do you feel you did with the COVID-19 protocols?
They're pretty routine now. We're not just making stuff up like we were in the very beginning.
Which of those do you expect to remain post-pandemic?
The washing hands and standing apart, that's how we keep from spreading these diseases and how we need to work. There's a heightened awareness for cleanliness. People used to drag themselves to work miserably sick because if you missed work, you were letting your team down. Well, that's changed. If you show up and you're sick, they're like, "Get out of here." That'll go forward.
Fellow Georgian Tyler Perry said when he was shooting his shows last summer, there was an elderly actress who didn’t feel comfortable coming on set given the risk, so they had to write her out of the scripts. Have you heard of anything like that happening on any of your productions?
Not leaving a show, but changing of schedules to accommodate people's tolerance for coming back to work. There's an, "OK, let's not shoot this right now because this actor is not quite ready to come back to work." They're pivoting and shooting other stuff first and coming back. That's happening across all the productions.
What are the biggest concerns that you hear from the studios now?
Everyone's overwhelmed with the need to get stuff made, but we aren't returning to the speed that we had and we're spending more dollars per frame captured in just the pure production. And it's not like people don't care because you always care when you're spending more money than you planned, but it’s a way a distant second to: Are we getting this stuff shot?
Are all the studios behind?
Nobody is meeting their goals. Just look at the Disney+ line-up, all the stuff that they want to put in place. Look at what Paramount is doing now with Paramount Plus. If you just look at these pipelines, this is the anxiety that everyone feels right now. And then, by the way, WandaVision's a hit, so you got to feed that beast, right? That’s the tension that you feel every day.
How much of that is not having enough physical space to film? Several production facilities, including yours, are fully booked.
It's not just about space. Yes, of course, we could use some more facilities, and we're putting in five more stages that will be ready by June. But that's only one small part. Even before COVID hit, there weren't enough people — I'm talking about crew, not to mention the storytellers — to meet the demand that Wall Street was pouring into the pipeline. There's a talent drain. With COVID, it's [only gotten worse].
Georgia opened sooner than other states. Did you field a lot of calls?
It was overwhelming. Guys were like, "Hey, we heard you guys figured it out." First of all, we didn't figure it out. We have a version and it's working. But there was a lot of attention on us. And we had the good fortune of not having to worry about what role our government leaders would play because they basically said, "We're going to let the industry figure it out." That's the good news. The bad news: It was on us to figure it out and take responsibility.
Are you getting involved in the vaccine rollout as you did testing?
No, we decided we would just keep our focus on the testing protocols. We have to make certain that we just take it all the way to the end — and we'll let [union, guild and association] leadership decide when that is and when those protocols can change. And then again, as an industry, we're going to have to decide what we want to carry forward and what we don't. That's the next phase, and the rate at which we're vaccinating may advance those conversations faster than I thought. I used to think [the protocols] were going to go into 2022. I don't know if that's the case anymore.
Have you had conversations about mandating the vaccine on sets?
We haven't. We know that when it comes to mandatory protocols, we'll have to work in collaboration with industry leadership. No one goes on our lot without a mask, for example. And that was a political thing. Fortunately, Governor Kemp said, "How can I help?" And we were like, "What would be helpful is if you wear a mask in public," and he said, "OK." So when a crewmember said, "It's my right [not to wear one]" or whatever, of course we can say, "This is private property, sorry," but what our security team said instead was, "Hey, listen, the governor's wearing a mask, and you should wear a mask to protect our industry." It was us taking a stand, but the stand was really only taken because the unions and guilds and associations agreed. We'll have to do the same thing with the vaccination.
You're building out a neighboring town for people to live. Is this the future of production facilities?
I don't think so. In some ways, what we're doing is what Mr. Disney did. The mill town is not a new concept. But if we didn't have a state with a reputation for being so business friendly, for having the tax incentives, for having the most traveled airport in the world, if those things didn't exist right there, believe me, we couldn't do this. I grew up in Hill Country outside of San Antonio, Texas. You cannot do this in San Antonio, Texas.
How many people are buying houses and apartments on the Trilith property?
We have 400 of the apartments built, 260 of them occupied. We’re at almost 300 homes now sold and 500 people in the town. We're working on our next set of 150 homes right now and starting our third micro village. The second micro village filled up like that (snaps fingers). We have 36 people on the waiting list. What’s happening — and this is a global trend — is that COVID has heightened our awareness of the benefits of this approach to working. The distributed workforce and the way for us to collaborate with these electronic tools is causing a lot of people to realize that they don't have to live in the town they thought they have to live in. So I think people thought it was going to be more like a second home, but they're actually staying here.
Every few years it seems there’s some controversial legislation in Georgia that pops up and Hollywood threatens a boycott, whether it’s an anti-LGBT or anti-abortion bill. Do you just assume it's going to pass?
These kinds of ebbs and flows of social discourse and its impact on the industry will never go away. Georgia is not immune to it. The film industry has been this wonderful beacon of possibility, and I do worry, given what's going on in our culture right now, that we as an industry could get caught sideways in this in some way that really dampens our ability to continue to have diverse views on the world.
Georgia's film incentives program has been criticized by some as an irresponsible use of taxpayer money. Do you see it being phased out or pared in the future?
This state is very proud of the fact that seven years in a row now it’s the number one state in the United States to do business. They saw the film industry as a way to really diversify its economy, to bring the creative class into the state. So they wrote this policy that was supported left and right, and that still is the case. I'm not a politician, but I'm on all of these committees, and what I noticed is they were so careful and specific about making it make business sense. It would be very difficult for anyone to turn it around now because it's just good, smart money — and you have both Democrats and Republicans looking at it. But in every session in every state always in the U.S., you will have people come up and write up some kind of legislation, "Let's get rid of tax incentives." It's just not going to happen. I would be really surprised.
But there were some changes to it recently, yes?
There were parts that we needed to improve on around auditing and how we manage the information and our relationship with all the productions. We needed to clean up some of the back of house stuff, so Representative Matt Dollar passed some amendments last session that are now going into effect that really helped clean up the whole process.
Interview edited for length and clarity.
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Tom Holland x Reader
Not my gif
My requests are open if you have any ideas <3
“Come on Tom don’t be ridiculous!” You match his volume, “I had every right to be annoyed. We’d planned this thing for weeks!”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, (Y/n)!” He continues to defend, “I’ve had a busy schedule with everything going on and it just slipped my mind. I can’t change that.”
“I reminded you that morning!” You point out, “And it’s not like you were doing something you couldn’t get out of. Drinks with the boys? You can do that anytime!”
The derivative of this argument had stemmed from Tom missing an important evening you were supposed to be attending for your business. He knew you’d been terrified about it for weeks and you’d been prepping to meet all of these important business figures since you’d first been invited. You wanted him by your side. Instead, he’d supposedly forgotten and gone out with the boys for drinks instead. Sure, he had been busy recently. He’d been doing a bunch of press for Onward and had only recently finished up with Cherry, whilst also juggling a few new projects that seemed to be in the pipeline. But you’d asked for one night. And you didn’t expect that to be so hard for him.
In fact, the two of you had been arguing a lot recently. Ever since you’d moved into this flat together, you’d been at it like an old married couple. You hadn’t done the dishes? Argument. He’d forgotten to get the groceries you’d asked for? Argument. You came back late from work and hardly saw him? Argument. Day after day, the blissful couple managed to sink further and further into the stage they never wanted to get to.
“Really? Because on top of work, and travelling and everything, I hardly get to see them anymore,” He comments, running a hand through his hair, “I just thought I’d have one night to enjoy myself.”
“I wanted you to be there Tom,” You sigh, “I was terrified. Do you know how humiliating it is to be talking to investors and have them question why the seat beside me was empty at dinner?”
He swallows and you watch as his Adam’s Apple bobs prominently, “It wouldn’t have made a difference to their opinion of you if I was there or not.”
You scoff, “Right, Tom,” You fold your arms like you’re closing him off from you, “But it would’ve made a difference to me. I wanted my boyfriend to be there to support me. But I guess not.”
That silences him. All of his arguments to defend himself seem to fall flat.
“You have to be at the studio for interviews in an hour, you should probably leave now,” You comment coldly, hardly glancing up from the floorboards as you speak, “I’ll see you later.”
He doesn’t have it in him to find the right words to respond with. Instead, he watches you walk into the room that you shared in this apartment before he finally drops his hope and packs up his things to leave. As he left, all he could think about was how much he’d held you in that room. How many times had the two of you shared a bed? Without him falling asleep on the sofa, or in a hotel halfway across the world. Without an argument meaning you turned your backs to each other after a hasty good night. All he could think of was wrapping his arms around you tightly and promising you that you’d wake up with them still tight around your torso. He’d give you a morning kiss and ask to stay with you like that forever, until life dragged you to your separate callings.
- - - - - -
He’s already been asked if he’s okay four times since he got here - all by different people. They all said that he didn’t seem like himself but he’d dismissed it as fatigue quickly. Chris seemed the most concerned as they both got their microphones connected for the interviews.
“You good, buddy?” Chris frowns, watching Tom like he was a brother to him whilst Tom blanks out.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tom nods encouragingly, trying to force himself back to normal.
“You know we don’t have to go ahead if you’re not comfortable,” Chris points out, “I’ll do them alone if you-“
“Honestly man, I’m good, let’s go,” Tom shakes it off, heading out through to the first interview of the day.
These days were always pretty long - interview after interview that always seemed to hold similar questions or set ups. But you always managed to brighten them. You’d send him a text to check he’d got there okay, or you’d sent him a voice note to update him on your day so far. Especially recently as the two of you had moved into your apartment. His phone would normally be buzzing a thousand times as you sent him different photos of cute furniture that you’d managed to find. Today, he hadn’t heard anything.
He knew he was in the wrong about this whole situation with you. You were completely right to want him to be there with you. You’d always done the same for him - press events, charity nights, premieres. You’d been by his side for all of his major moments. And he’d managed to slip up on the one night where it mattered. He knew that this would matter more to you than if he’d missed your birthday, an anniversary, even a meal with your family. Your career? That was always a big thing for you, and so was having Tom there to support. So yeah, he’d fucked up. And he’d made things worse by being too proud to admit it.
“And what about you Tom?” The interviewer continues, focusing his attention on the boy that was hardly in the room.
“Oh, I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?”
- - - - - -
“Man, what’s with you today?” Chris frowns, “I don’t wanna be rude but you’re really not with it today.”
Tom sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Just been a bit of a long day.”
“Well, we’ve got three left,” Chris encourages, “I’ll be my wonderful self and you can sit back and look pretty.”
Tom tries to laugh but it falls flat against the weight on his chest. He wanted to be home. He wanted to find a thousand ways of making this up to you so he could tell you once and for all that he would change and that he was wrong. Every passing moment increased his fears that, this time, he’d be too late.
“Alright so, a lot of fans sent in questions for this interview,” The woman explains, Tom hadn’t been alert enough to catch her name, “Chris, what was your favourite thing about working on this film?”
Chris chats away naturally going through his answer, making some sort of joke that Tom forces a laugh at.
“And Tom, a lot of questions came in for you,” The interviewer smiles, “How have things been for you and (Y/n) now that you guys have moved in together?”
His eyes fall at the mention of your name, trying his best to muster any composure he can find before he looks back up, “Um,” He stops.
It felt like everyone’s eyes were on him. The useless boyfriend acting as though everything had to be fine.
“Things are going great, thank you,” He tries to readjust in his chair and smile, “We’re settling in well.”
“And she’s been very busy with her business recently,” The interviewer persists relentlessly, “You guys must be so busy! How has that worked?”
Tom feels himself fight against the quivering of his bottom lip, “I’m sorry, excuse me.”
“Tom?” Chris speaks up, frowning at the sudden change in demeanour.
“I have to go,” Tom stumbles quickly, “I’m so sorry.”
The interviewer seems practically dumbfounded.
“I’m sorry, excuse me,” Tom tries to de-tangle himself from the microphone and step through the maze of cameras and crew around them.
His assistant watches on in horror - this would be a hard one to explain!
But Tom would deal with all of that later. He gets himself out of the room with rapid breathing as he starts hurrying down the corridors to try and get out of the building. To get home to you.
- - - - - -
He’s practically trembling on the taxi journey all the way back to the flat - he’s convincing himself of every possible negative outcome and telling himself a million times that it’s too late to rectify what he’s done. The thought alone causes adrenaline to surge through him.
When the cab pulls up outside of your building, he rushes to the penthouse like there’s fire behind his feet. But as soon as he reaches the door? All of that comes crashing down. And there’s an odd solemn nature that falls over him that he can’t manage to shift.
There’s soft music playing from inside the flat and he’s cautious as he unlocks the door. It’s quiet and calm but he’s certain that the aftermath of a storm is always worse than the storm itself. You’re always awaiting the next.
Tom walks through the flat calmly until he reaches the spare room. The two of you had used it as a very jumbled place for storage since you’d moved in and never really got round to organising. Clearly today you’d set that task for yourself.
“Hey,” He begins softly and it instantly makes you jump.
You hadn’t heard him over the music.
“What are you doing home?” You frown, checking the time, “I thought it wasn’t supposed to be for at least another hour.”
“Yeah I know,” Tom scratches at the back of his neck, “I left early.”
You frown once again, “What happened? Was everything okay?” You pause the song and focus solely on him.
“Um, yeah, listen (Y/n)...” He pauses, glancing over at the photo album in your hands, “What are you doing?”
“Just looking through some old photos,” You tuck some stray hairs behind your ears and it pains you that it’s not his hand to make the movement, “I got a bit distracted from clearing out.”
“Can I join you?”
You shift around on the floor to make room for him beside you and, as he’d asked, he comes to sit cross legged on the carpet next to you.
“Oh my god!” Tom picks up a photo from the floor, “This was from Halloween, what like 3 years ago?”
“Yeah,” You smile, “The avengers idea!”
Your eyes glance over the group of you - you were Black Widow, Tom was Hawkeye, Tuwaine: the Hulk, Harrison: Captain America, Harry was Iron Man and Sam was Thor. You’d never been so proud of yourselves when the idea actually came off well.
“Why didn’t you go as Spider-Man?” You frown, looking at another photo of the night.
He laughs, “We said we’d go as the original group!”
The laughter settles as you move onto another one, the two of you on your first holiday together. Tom had taken you to Barcelona for your birthday and it had been the most under planned trips ever. The hotel ended up misbooking you so you had to find somewhere last minute, your flights got mixed up too and Tom forgot to book the restaurant that he’d been planning for your actual birthday evening. But it couldn’t have been more perfect. You spent the evenings hand in hand around the streets, you found quaint little corner shops and cafes that sufficed to make the entire weekend something you’d never forget.
“God, I really fucked up with that one!” Tom shakes his head, flicking through a few failed photos that an old couple had taken of you two.
“No, don’t be silly,” You defend, “It was beautiful.”
He smiles lightly and the two of you immerse yourself in more photos, organising them into the years of memories that you’d made together over your relationship. You slot the final photo into an album and set it into the box with the others - one for each year.
“(Y/n) I’m really sorry,” Tom begins, evidently returning back to his initial reasoning for coming home, “I didn’t mean to miss that event, and I know it was completely stupid of me to forget. I should’ve spoken to you and told you what I was doing. And if I’d have remembered, I would’ve been there with you.”
You look down at your hands in your lap.
“I know I can’t blame this on my forgetfulness or just act like this was a silly, forgettable mistake, because it wasn’t. Darling, you’ve always been there for me, every event, every premiere, everything- you’re always by my side. And, on one night where I should’ve been doing the same, I was ignorant and didn’t think of you as much as I should’ve done. As much as I should always do,” He sighs, the frown between his brows increasing, “You don’t deserve to be treated like that. God, if I’d have been there, I would’ve been proud beyond belief of you, of everything you’re achieving. You melt my heart with how unbelievably proud you make me and it kills me that I didn’t show you that when I should’ve done.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand, “Tom, we’ll keep going around in circles if we keep talking about this.”
His mouth parts and it’s like you see his heart sink, “What are you saying?”
“Dance with me,” You mumble, reaching over to play the music through the speakers once again.
It’s ‘Falling’ from Harry Styles’ album that starts playing and it seems awfully bittersweet for the moment. It doesn’t exactly fit but you don’t care.
You pull Toms hands and wrap your arms around him as he does the same to you. He’s uncertain at first but soon relaxes into your body being against him. He holds you close and lets your head hear the calming beat of his heart against his chest. You take in a shaky breath and feel like you’re holding him close enough to mold him back into you, into every part of your body and your mind.
“I love you,” Tom whispers against your hair, dipping his head down to bring the words as close to you as possible.
It feels like the first time in forever where he says those words and they really sink into your veins like they did when they’d first left his lips.
And, somehow, it brings you back to everything that had ever mattered. Something you’d managed to almost lose. Us.
“I don’t want to lose this.”
#tom#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland drabble#tom holland blurb#tom holland writing#tom holland request#tom imagine#tom fanfiction#tom drabble#tom blurb#tom writing#tom request#tom x reader#tom x you#tom x y/n#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom angst#tom holland angst
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chasing visions of our futures: chapter two
a/n: I meant to have this done much earlier today, but at least I got it finished!
word count: 2k
pairing: barry allen x oc
summary: River Matthews decides to cause some chaos in Central City, mostly for fun, but also for the attention she knows she’ll get from The Flash. When he catches her, and she gets a second chance, she has to decide whether she should take it or if there’s no changing for her. There’s a lot more to her the more Barry tries to dig, and the more he does, the more River’s afraid he won’t like what he finds out.
chapter summary: Team Flash has to decide what to do with River, and with Hawthorne’s help, things might start looking up for her.
Being stuck in the Pipeline for this long was already driving River insane. Maybe not literally, but she was extremely bored, and she didn’t handle her boredom well. Not that she could do much about it if she wanted to. Cisco really had done a good job of designing the cells.
While the rest of Team Flash - Hawthorne included - was deciding her fate, River was left to hope she wouldn’t be kept here forever. Yeah, so she’d been causing them a lot of trouble for several days now, but they couldn’t just keep her in here forever, right?
Luckily, Hawthorne came back eventually. She held onto the hope she had that maybe they’d let her go. After all, she could have done a lot worse, and River could be fairly persuasive if she tried. Not that she thought it would matter. Whatever they decided, they’d probably be set on it.
“So, I have some good news and some bad news,” Hawthorne said. “The good news is, apparently, they’re willing to let you out of here."
River, who’d previously been splayed out on the cell floor, shot up to her feet. "Seriously?” Honestly, she hadn’t expected them to actually do it.
“Yes, but on one condition.” That made her pause, the smile she’d had on her face dropping. “I convinced them to give you a chance as long as you try turning a new leaf.”
“What?” River exclaimed. That was practically impossible for her, and she already knew she’d just let them down if she even tried. “What even makes you think I could do that?”
Hawthorne sighed, crossing his arms. “I think you could if you actually tried. You’re not a terrible person, River. Maybe just a bit…misguided.”
That felt like the understatement of the year. She might be worse off than he thought.
River groaned and pressed her forehead against the glass of the cell. This was a lot to process. “Okay, so let’s say for a second that I even entertain that idea. What have I ever done to make you think I can even change?” Even she had her doubts, and she could imagine it would take some time before the team even trusted her if she went along. On the other hand, it might be a nicer alternative to being kept in the Pipeline for however long.
“Not much, but I care about you enough that I did what I could to convince them to give you a chance. Because I know what you’ve been through, and I think you at least deserve that chance.” It was clear that Hawthorne meant it, but she was still having a hard time wrapping her head around his words.
“They’re just stressed out with all the metahumans that are constantly popping up, and they’ve been through a lot, so it might take them some time to warm up to you,” he continued. “But if you just give it a chance, I think you’ll like it a lot better than being stuck with dad for the rest of eternity.”
River sighed and looked away as she let it all sink in. Realistically, she knew he was right, and squandering this chance might be her worst decision ever. “And what happens if I don’t go along with it?”
Hawthorne shrugged, feigning a casual expression. “More than likely, you go to Iron Heights with the rest of the metahumans. Which is just as hard to escape as this cell.”
The odds were stacked against her, and while River could be stubborn and unwilling to cooperate in the worst of circumstances, it was clear to her what her best option was. She’d have to play along.
“Alright, fine. I’ll give it a shot,” she decided. “But I’m not guaranteeing you this will even work.” In fact, she had a very good feeling his misplaced faith in her was only going to bite him in the ass eventually.
“I only ask that you try.”
Hawthorne relayed her decision to the rest of the team, and he came back with Caitlin to let her out. Of course, they were going to watch her like a hawk now that she was free, but River much preferred it to the boring cell she’d be stuck in otherwise.
“Are you ready for the bad news?” Hawthorne asked once she was free. In her eagerness, she forgot there even was a bad end to all this.
“I suppose.”
“I have my own team to work with, so I won’t be around much. So, as much as I’d love to have you stay with me, I won’t be in Central City to keep an eye on you. I’m a little busy with the Legends,” he explained. “But Caitlin’s agreed to show you around while I sort out everything else I need to.”
Admittedly, the thought of exploring a little was exciting. S.T.A.R. Labs seemed like a pretty big place, and to say she didn’t think it could be cool to look around would be a lie. “Sounds fun,” River said.
Hawthorne patted her back, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be around for a little longer before I have to head out."
With that, he left her with Caitlin. River followed her around the building, curiously looking around. Already, she could tell she was bound to get lost on her own, at least for a while. She tried to create a mental map, which was easier said than done. Still reeling from the fact that she was even here, she’d only caught half of what Caitlin was saying in her tour of the lab. Part of her felt bad for not totally listening, but another part of her wondered why she even felt bad at all. Really, her thoughts and emotions were all over the place, but she made a mental note to thank her brother sometime for getting her out of the Pipeline. From what she could tell, he was pretty good friends with everyone on Team Flash, which was probably the biggest deciding factor in her release. Otherwise, she was sure she wouldn’t be following Caitlin through the halls.
River snapped out of her thoughts as they stopped in Cisco’s workshop. The only other person in the room, though, was another man who was definitely not Cisco. And he was throwing things out of frustration.
"This is Harry,” Caitlin explained, seemingly not even fazed by his behavior. “Don’t worry. This is normal for him."
It was almost comforting how strange everyone on the team was. At least from her perspective. While she still had her doubts about this working out, she felt a little better knowing she probably wasn’t much stranger than them, or at least that they’d probably accept how different she was if they could accept Harry’s weird outbursts.
"I can tell,” River said. Not the strangest thing she’d seen.
Caitlin pulled her away, letting Harry work through his problem as they finished up the tour. “Don’t worry if you get a little lost right away. It take a little adjusting to this place for everyone.”
“Yeah, no kidding. It’s bigger than I thought.” Though she didn’t say it, it was kind of exciting. She could definitely get used to this. And, if she was being honest, she kind of enjoyed listening to Caitlin, at least for as much as she’d listened.
“Well, I’ll be here if you ever need help,” Caitlin assured her. “We’re all supposed to make sure you’re supervised until we can fully trust you, but that wasn’t my idea.”
River wasn’t too surprised, and she wouldn’t have expected otherwise. It was probably a fair call, though. A smart move on their end. No doubt they knew better than to trust a stranger right away, especially someone they’d been trying to catch for a few days now.
“Speaking of which,” Caitlin continued, “We figured, since Hawthorne’s usually busy, you probably need somewhere to stay. So, I volunteered to let you stay with me for a while.”
Of all the people River could have ended up with, she seemed the most tolerable. Caitlin hadn’t been anything but kind so far, which kind of threw her off guard, admittedly, but it was kind of nice.
“You’re really sure you want me around?” Caitlin nodded, a smile still present on her face. “Alright, but I’m a lot to handle being around for that long.”
She didn’t seem too dissuaded, oddly enough. “Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse,” Caitlin said.
Seeing as it was getting pretty late, Caitlin wrapped up and let everyone know they were heading out. Everyone seemed worried about leaving her with River, even if they didn’t say. And surely Caitlin knew her friends well enough to see it, too, but she didn’t seem to carry the same unease as the rest of them. She simply dismissed it and lead the way to her apartment.
Caitlin’s apartment seemed nice than anywhere River had ever lived, though her standards weren’t very high. Hell wasn’t exactly a great place, so anywhere might have been nicer. Just from looking around, she could tell Caitlin must be a neat person. Nothing was really out of place, and she didn’t seem to leave many messes, if any.
Figuring River must be hungry, Caitlin found something for them to snack on in the meantime. Though she’d eaten a little while in her cell, she would never turn down food, and she did often found herself hungry quicker than she knew was probably normal. So the thoughtfulness didn’t go unappreciated.
It really was strange having someone actually being kind and concerned for her, even if it was just small things. It was just new and different, in a good way.
Caitlin made sure River was set for the night so she could sleep well. Tomorrow, they’d work on some training and getting her used to working with everyone else, so she’d need as much sleep as she could get. River knew that would be hard with how much difficulty she had sleeping, as if her brain refused to shut off, but she didn’t worry Caitlin with that. She could deal with it herself.
Once River had a decent layout of the house in case she needed the bathroom in the middle of the night or anything else, Caitlin let her be and went to her room to rest. As she’s expected of herself, River couldn’t sleep right away. Which was fine. It was normal for her. But now she had so much time to herself, and therefore more time to think.
Today had been so strange. Such a whirlwind as everything changed. If it hadn’t been for her brother, she wouldn’t be here right now, and though they had a lot of problems to sort out between each other, she greatly appreciated his help. And Caitlin was probably the first person to show her any kindness in a long time. As strange as it was, River welcomed it. And though she had some concerns and doubts about joining a team of heroes, she was kind of glad they’d even given her a chance. They certainly didn’t have to, though she knew it was mainly to do with Hawthorne.
This could be the start of something much better. And if she had anything to say about it, she was going to make the most of it while she could. River thought back to what Hawthorne said about her being misguided. By all means, she knew he was right. She might have done some horrible things - things she often regretted when she stop to think about it - but it wasn’t the end of the world for her. There might still be a chance for her after all.
It was with that small shred of hope that River actually found herself growing tired. It had been a long day, and she was far too comfortable not to feel sleepy. Her last thought before letting sleep take over was, I hope I don’t let them down too much.
#barry allen#the flash#the flash cw#barry allen x reader#barry allen x original character#barry allen x oc#barry allen imagine#the flash imagine#the flash x oc#the flash x original character
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WIP 08.05.2020
Couldn’t resist using a Five Gif on the 5th for my WIP Wednesday post. I’m actually trying to see what I can do with a TRR/Umbrella Academy crossover. I really want Rumor to be the cause of something crazy to happen in TRR. We’ll see what i can come up with there.
Up first, the one that got all the Drama
The Crisis
Pop’s Place Chapter 8
* still in writing process*
Jason’s fatherly instincts kicked in immediately. He pulled Mia close to him. Jason was trying hard not to cry himself as they quickly wheeled Pop’s stretcher into the hospital as they were frantically working on him.
He gently stroked Mia’s back and hair trying to soothe her. Jason glanced at Liam. His eyes welled with tears. Both the kids were terribly upset.
When Mia composed herself a little more, they walked inside the hospital and were led to a private waiting room. The room made Jason immediately nervous. It was a small room, away from the main waiting rooms, and they were the only people in this room. It looked to him like the kind of room, the hospital used to deliver bad news in. Considering how Pops was brought in, they were probably preparing for the worst case scenario. Jason wasn’t at church often as he should mind you, but in this moment he felt he had to do something.
He looked at Mia, who still had a tight grip on his hand. “Would you like to pray with me?”
Mia nodded, as more tears fell down her cheeks.
Liam could count the number of times he’d ever been to church on one hand. But he nodded as well. Because he would do anything it took to help Pops make it.
Mia reached for Liam’s hand, and they stood in a small circle.
“Heavenly Father, we come to you not for ourselves, but for someone that is extremely close to us. We come to you for Kelvin Jones, Pops. He is a loving Father and Husband, Mentor, and Friend. We ask you to wrap your arms around him and touch his heart and heal it. His work on this earth is not done yet. Heal him Lord, so that he may continue his work here on earth surrounded by all those people he loves and loves him. Please give us this miracle Lord, as our hearts and souls are heavy right now. These things we ask of you, in the name of the Father, the son, and the holy spirit. Amen.”
“Amen,” Liam and Mia said together.
Jason wiped the tears from Mia’s eyes. “I’ll stay with you as long as I can okay?”
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* next up *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Time to Say Goodbye
Fast Forward Chapter 14
*still in writing process*
(You may have been wondering what happened to Von after Chapter 9 the Round Table this chapter takes us through that as half of it is right after Liam got home from the hospital post surgery.)
“How is he?” Von asked.
“He’s asleep again. He was awake to eat, and shower, and hug the kids for a little bit. But he fell back asleep.”
“How are you Riley?”
“I’m a mess. He was dead. Liam was dead. And in those moments those minutes I thought he wasn’t coming back, something happened in me. I still love him Von, and we have to try to fix what is damaged about us. And I know in my heart that’s not what you want to hear. I know you came here for me. I knew it when you walked through the door. How you still feel about me, I feel it radiating off you. And I know you feel like you made a mistake when you left me that day in New York. But you didn’t.”
“Yes I did Riley, because I lost you.”
“I don’t think you would be where you are today with your music if I had gone to California with you Von. You wouldn’t have made it.”
“How do you figure?”
“I wouldn’t have waited this long, with so much inconsistency in my life. That part of me is just like my Dad, Von.”
“Yet you came to a foreign country for a man you had spent a night with.”
“My intent was only to spend a week here with him. A week turned into forever because I fell in love with him. I knew he was my forever. When you take vows Von, they’re for better and worse. I’ve hit the worst part. And I have to work through it with Liam, and I want to.”
Riley wiped her tears away.
“You think I’m making a mistake.”
“Yes, one that could end your life or the lives of your children. What if he doesn’t change Riley?!?!?!?! You’re pregnant, you have to think about the baby you’re carrying. Please come back with me.”
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* next up *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
The Crown Visits the South
University Student Ellie Chapter 2
*still in writing process. nearly complete*
Riley went to Triangle Town Center to get Liam a few lighter weight lighter colored outfits. It had been a while since Riley had been at a clothing retailer as all the clothes she owned were tailor made to perfectly fit her body. Riley laughed thinking of her husband still stark naked standing in front of the air conditioning unit. Riley came back to the hotel room to still find Liam naked.
"You know… it's ironic now I am finally seeing you for who you are Liam Rys. When we had that time period where both Adam and Jaiden hated wearing clothes, you insisted they got it from me. That naked time wasn't a thing you did."
Liam sat up. "Because I get it, and this feels so good. Get naked with me Riley."
"I was born in the day Liam Rys not yesterday, and we legit have 45 minutes before dinner. That’s not going to be enough time for us, if I get naked.”
“You’re right my love.” He looked Riley over. “You’re all mine tonight, after we get back from dinner.”
Riley changed clothes, and Liam put on the light weight linen suit Riley had picked up for him. Liam sighed contentedly.
“No flaming balls?” Riley asked
“No flaming balls My Queen.”
They met Chris and Emily for dinner at Sullivan’s Steakhouse.
“You have to try the cheesesteak egg rolls, Riley you will love them.”
“They sound strange and weirdly delicious at the same time. I’m in.”
*^*^*^*^* end of chapter teasers *^*^*^*^*^*
Still in the pipeline: The thoughts are still bubbling on these, as I don’t have anything more concrete on them to do a teaser as of yet or since last week: Life of Riley Chapter 17: Summertime in the NYC , and At Long Last.
Tagging some peeps that might be interested in some teasers and some writers yo peeps what ya’ll up to
@queenjilian @dcbbw @burnsoslow @axwalker @indiacater @cordonianroyalty @glaimtruelovealways @sophie-and-shizuku @kingliam2019 @gabesmommie1130 @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @islandcrow @batgirlassociationofgothamcity @jared2612 @lovablegranny @queenwalton @sanchita012 @mom2000aggie @gkittylove99 @mrsdrakewalkerblog @choicesficwriterscreations @kimmiedoo5
#bebepac writes#fast forward#pops place#University student ellie#trr fanfic#trr fandom#trh fanfic#trh fandom#trr mc x drake#maybe trr mc x liam#trh mc x liam#king liam of cordonia#queen riley#riley brooks#umbrella academy#umbrella academy crossover
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