#the most difficult jax for me to draw but I LOVE HIM- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

razrbladekiss · 3 years

Text

Tyrants | Chapter Seven - Fix You

WORD COUNT: 6.1k

WARNINGS: Gun talk, mentions of murder, The usual SOA shit.

An almost unsettling fog blanketed Charming tonight, amplifying the sinister aura that’d been drifting through the town since Stahl had made her mark.

Since June Stahl had made it her mission—her whole purpose—to destroy the Sons Of Anarchy, and anybody that laid in her path.

She was doing a damn good job of that, too.

Isla wasn’t sure what her hasty arrival would mean for the club, but she knew that it wasn’t going to end pretty. She was aware that the bitter agent was just as stiff-necked as Clay, and wasn’t going down without a fucking fight.

Which, a fight, the Sons could do. It was whether they’d all make it out alive that Isla couldn’t predict.

She wouldn’t want to put her money on it either, actually.

“Any word on Bobby?”

“No.” Gemma’s sigh was sad, exhausted. “Rosen swung by just after you left with the she-devil. Said there’s a witness in a safe house willing to testify against Bobby and Ope in court. And if he does stick to his word, they’re going down for murder.”

Choosing to ignore her comment about Tara, Isla continued to pace the room. She held her cell tightly between her pink fingertips, hoping it’d light up and vibrate with a call from Jax, or Tig, or even Happy.

“Shit.” She hissed, mindful of the fact that there was a sleeping baby in Wendy’s arms and any offensive sounds would rouse him in an instant. “Did Clay tell you what their next move was?”

“Yeah. But I don’t think you’re gonna like it, sweetheart.”

She didn’t have to be privy to the plan to know that their next move involved one witness, three men, and a handful of shrapnel bullets.

“Jax know about this?” Almost concerned, Wendy asked. Isla’s ears perked up at that, too, because she wanted to know.

The VP was brutal, he was domineering and harsh when he had to be, but he wanted minimal blood shed. He didn’t host that same massacre mentality as Tig or Clay, and he definitely didn’t desire the sick thrill of gunning down a witness being protected by the fucking ATF.

“I’m assuming that he doesn’t.” The blonde uttered for Gemma after noticing that she was taking a painfully long time to respond. “Clay sent Happy, Tig, and who else? Juice?”

“Not Juice.”

“Did Clay go?” A little bit condescending, like she already knew the answer, Wendy asked. She rocked Abel back and forth as she did so, penetratively glaring at her ex-mother-in-law.

Isla swallowed thickly, stuffing her cell into the back pocket of her jeans when she realized what Gemma was trying to say.

Clay never did his own dirty work—it was always the Sgt. At Arms and whoever else was willing to get the blood on their hands. And her father, the forward-thinking, strong-willed Scotsman, never shied away from a task of this nature.

“It’s okay.” She spoke aloud, elucidating her innermost thoughts. “It’s fine. They’ve got Hap—he’s never been caught before—he knows what he’s doing.”

“And Tig, too. Y’know what he’s like.”

“Yeah.” Reflectively, she spoke. “At least they’d go through with it if my dad couldn’t.”

“You saying that your old man is weak?”

“No.” Isla spat at Wendy, glaring at her. “I’m saying that he has a conscience. Hap and Tig are a little bit hasty with the trigger and don’t tend to think before they execute somebody.”

In agreement, Gemma nodded.

“But it’s gotta be done.” She concluded, sitting on the arm of the couch. “The witness has gotta be dealt with—even if Jax doesn’t know anything about this.”

She felt her heart constrict at the thought of nobody telling the Vice President about their plans to get rid of that man.

The man that had the power to take down Opie and Bobby, and leave a club without their brothers.

Two families without their fathers.

And though it was inherently wrong to commit murder, Isla had been brought up knowing that the Sons got rid of their problems by planting bullets in the skulls of their enemies.

It was bad and immoral, and she couldn’t think of a way to excuse it to anybody on the outside. But to SAMCRO, it was habitual. It was what they did because it worked. Every single time.

“Wait a second.”

“What’s the matter, baby?”

Isla pulled a hand through her hair. “How is Clay so sure that they’re not gonna get caught? Y’know, ‘cuz this witness is being protected by the ATF—“

She was cut short by a delicate, albeit firmer than usual, knock at the door. Isla piqued a brow when Gemma got up to answer.

“They’ve got it covered.” Was all she managed to muster out before she went to see who’d decided to turn up at that hour.

Isla’s brain was doing cartwheels. She was nervous, she was pissed, but, most of all, she was upset that Chibs hadn’t told her where he was going tonight.

She snapped herself out of it, though. When Gemma scoffed as she opened the door and trailed back to her spot on the adjacent couch, Isla’s interests had been roused.

“It’s kinda late for a house call.” Her eyes rolled.

Tara trailed in behind her, feeling uneasy at the mere sight of the SAMCRO Queen and Jax’s ex-wife—but Isla being the only friendly face eased her a little bit.

“I was on my way home from work. Just thought I’d stop by and check in.”

“That’s sweet.” Isla smiled at the brunette, offering her the space next to Wendy. “Here.”

“It’s okay, I’ll stand—“

“No, I insist.” She protested softly, getting up. “It’s been a long day for you, sweetie. I’ll sit by mama bear over there.”

Gemma snorted, trying to figure out just what had happened between the pair for Isla to suddenly be so kind and considerate toward the woman she loathed for the best part of a decade.

But she was drawing a blank, because she realized how stupid that would’ve been to wonder—she was just like that. Nothing had to happen for her to be that way.

Isla was the kind of woman that Gemma wanted to be, while simultaneously being her exact double. She was a cleaner, kinder, brighter version of the matriarch, though she hosted that flicker of something that’d tie her to the battle axe that raised her.

And maybe calling the woman a “battle axe” was a little bit harsh, but it was true—on almost every single count.

Gemma was strong-willed, stubborn, martinent, and she took no shit from anybody. Isla wasn’t like that. She wasn’t a doormat, and she didn’t let people walk all over her, but she never went out of her way to demand respect.

Even though she’d been brought up to know she was better than the other women that lived among the Sons Of Anarchy.

“Is he here?”

“Does it look like he’s here?” Gemma’s lips twitched.

“No, I just…I guess I miss him, you know?”

Wendy nodded, tending to a fidgeting Abel. “Yeah, I do.”

Isla looked between the pair—sadly. She watched two of the most important people in Jax’s life sit side-by-side, meditative and wondering about the positions they had both been thrust into.

He had lived two completely different lives with each woman, and she was grateful to say that she had been present in both.

But to see Jax struggle—to see his heart break twice—was too much for Isla to think about, really.

She had watched Tara walk away, right out of his life without a second glance or even a second thought. And it was painful to discern. Painful to know that her best friend had lost the love of his life because she felt that she was too good to stick around for him.

Isla knew that wasn’t the entire truth, and that Tara was just doing a good thing for herself. But, at the time, she was young and stupid and extremely closed-minded when it came to the people that wronged the ones she loved, and all she wanted to do was hate that woman.

She’d grown up a lot since then, though. Isla was a different person entirely—a better version of herself—and she understood each reason behind every last thing Tara did when she did it.

Even if Jax’s mother couldn’t get to grips with it—couldn’t think about trusting her—Isla could.

It was a little bit difficult now, however. To see Tara and Wendy in the same room—trying to coexist peacefully in Jax’s life—was hard.

The lull was boisterous. The sheepish silence was deafening, and the thwacking of Isla’s heart against her chest was vociferous enough to be heard by Gemma across the way.

It was a position she didn’t want to be thrust into, but she wasn’t willing to get up and leave had anything been said.

She sat beside the older woman, watching her watch them like a fucking hawk, until her phone vibrated in her back pocket.

Isla shifted, pulling the cell from the denim and flipping it open.

Janet: Can u make it in for 9 tomorrow morning?

Her eyebrows pinched together, looking up a little confused. Isla swore that she sent Janet a text message that told her she wouldn’t be able to work in the morning.

She couldn’t miss Donna’s funeral. She didn’t want to, either.

“Who is it?” Gemma spoke inquisitively, peeling her eyes away from the conversion between Wendy and Tara.

“My boss.”

“Janet?” She nodded. “What’d that bitch want?”

“For me to work tomorrow morning—”

Gemma turned to her, grimacing. “But it’s the funeral. You told her that, right?”

Once again, Isla bobbed her head while fiddling with the buttons on her cellphone.

“She’s not gonna let me take another day off.” Her throat hitched at the realization. “I’m just gonna have to go with you, ignore her calls, and tell her that I didn’t see the text she sent to me tonight.”

Lying to and ignoring the woman that paid her at the end of every month, the woman that had helped her financially for the last five years, wasn’t what Isla wanted to do today.

But it was the only way she could pay her respects to Donna, she thought.

“You’re not gonna go in, right?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m just gonna call her after the funeral and apologize—“

“Don’t apologize.” Gemma chastised, knitting her eyebrows together. “If she can’t understand that you’ve got a funeral in the morning that you can’t miss, then she can go to hell—“

“Alright, Gem.” Her chuckle was hearty as she put her hand against her purse, pulling it to sit against her shoulder.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m gonna head home.” She rose to her feet smiling over at Tara and Wendy. “It’s getting late and we’ve gotta be out early tomorrow.”

“Alright, baby.” The older woman stood with her, pushing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “Call me when you get there?”

Isla smiled, pecking her cheek. “Of course.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She directed toward Tara—not particularly giving a damn if Wendy would be there or not.

The doctor simply smiled and nodded, giving her the answer that she not only wanted, but needed. She needed her there by her side in the morning. Isla feared she wouldn’t be able to get through it without her, actually.

But she was dreading the day. To see those men hold themselves together—to see Opie strive not to crumble—was something that she didn’t want to have to witness tomorrow.

So many funerals had she attended, so many friends and family members had been seized from her reach throughout the course of her life, but she hadn’t seen anything like this before.

She hadn’t ever seen a friend lose his one true love, the woman that brought him unintelligible happiness and two beautiful children to cherish with his entire being.

She hadn’t seen Opie suffer so much before. The man that was strong and willing and would hastily blow shit up with little to no regard for consequences, was disintegrating before her very eyes.

And Isla didn’t fucking know how to help him cope with that. She didn’t even know if she could help him to cope with that.

Her anxiety was still present on the drive home, too.

Even after getting into bed and recounting the events of the afternoon, Isla was still nervous as to what’d happen next. Because Clay’s reaction to Bobby getting arrested didn’t inspire much confidence, either.

And the way that Piney had disappeared earlier to seek vengeance, to hold a fucking pistol to the head of Laroy Wayne—the man that allegedly played a role in the murder of Donna Winston—was also prickling away at her thoughts.

Something was going to go wrong, wasn’t it?

No matter how well thought out their plans might’ve been, or how seamlessly they carried out the crime, something always went wrong. Somebody was always caught out, or hurt, or just felt bad about what they were doing.

Isla could’ve written that shit, now. After so many failed hits, failed attempts, and unfortunate events, Isla was almost a pro at predicting what the future would entail.

Almost as if she’d manifested it by merely thinking, her attention was piqued by the hastening roar of a motorcycle engine—clearly pulling up to her place.

It was wonderful to know that Gemma hadn’t decided to follow her home tonight, but the rough din could’ve led to any of the others.

She hoped it wasn’t Jax, and she really hoped it wasn’t her father or Happy.

As she slid out of bed, Isla reached for the pink robe with the daisies on it that rested against the back of her bedroom door, and shrugged it on over her silky pajamas.

It was great that she lived in such a small house, really, because she was able to get from point A (her bedroom) to point B (the front door), in a matter of seconds, or before the person outside got angry that she was taking too long.

He hadn’t knocked the door yet, but she knew that he was about to.

Isla rummaged around the little bowl beside the entrance for her front door key, suddenly realizing that she had way too many of them—her house key, a key to her mailbox, keys to T M, keys to her dad’s place, her car keys, she had somebody’s bike keys, too.

The little chain that hosted a few pieces of metal, a cherry keychain, a tiny motorcycle, and an old beaded bracelet that Chibs had given to her for safe travels, was hastily being shoved into the lock and twisted counterclockwise.

“How’d you know I was out here?” Tig asked from about a foot away, barely visible to her as the streetlights were out, for some reason.

“Literally couldn’t hear myself think over the sound of your bike.” She chuckled, leaning against her door frame. She squinted, trying to focus on him—but it was no use. “What’re you going here, Tigger?”

He stepped further toward her—reluctantly. The dim glow of her living room light suddenly illuminated the space a hell of a lot more, hitting Tig square in the face as Isla shifted a little to her left.

Her heart clenched.

“I need you to play nurse again.” Bashfully, he smiled.

There were tears of pain trickling from those crystalline hues, his left hand firmly planted against his ribcage, and she suddenly heeded the dried blood underneath his nose, his lips, and a bruise forming against his cheek.

“Tig…” Her words broke away from her tongue, the lump in her throat constricting her airways because seeing him so beaten and exhausted hurt her.

“You should see the other guy.” He tried to joke, but the humor was lost on her.

Lost on him, too. He didn’t think it was funny, but he hated the way she was looking at him.

“Sorry to bring this here.” Tig sniffed harshly, squinting as the pain suddenly started to hit him. “I’ll—uh—I’ll go—“

“No. No, you’re not going anywhere.” She stated firmly, stepping out of the house and down the path. “You’re gonna come in, I’m gonna fix you up, and you’re gonna tell me what happened.”

“Isla…”

“Please, Alex.”

Tig couldn’t help that little smile pulling at the corners of his lips, always liking that she’d say his name so softly. Anybody else referring to him that way would’ve gotten a swift kick in the fucking gut—but she was different.

Isla was a comfort. Always had been.

He stepped inside, following closely behind her as she made a beeline for her bathroom. But she instructed him to sit at the dinner table, stifling a laugh at the way she tried her hand at being the authoritative figure.

She’d even told him to help himself to the Jack Daniels she kept for when Chibs called ‘round.

“You’re so lucky dad taught me how to treat wounds.” She called from the end of the hallway, shuffling across the carpet in a pair of sparkly pink slippers.

“I know.” He agreed, thankful. “He did a good job, too.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.” Isla smiled, putting her first aid necessities atop the table. “But don’t tell him that I’m about to ask you to take your shirt off, or else he’ll beat the shit outta you.”

“What?”

“Take your shirt off.” She smiled again, gesturing to the part of his body that his hand had subconsciously taken purchase against. “I’m not tryna make you do a strip tease for me, Tig, I just need to see if you’ve got any cuts there or if it’s just a bruise.”

“I think it’s just a bruise,” he mused, shrugging off his black zip-up, and starting to unbutton the cotton shirt adorning his torso.

Isla bit her bottom lip as she fiddled with the tube of antiseptic cream, wondering how she would broach the topic. She wanted to know what had happened—because whatever it was clearly did not go to plan—but she didn’t want him to think that she was trying to force it out of him.

“See.” Tig ran his hand over the red marks, lines, and the small flecks of yellow surrounding his rib cage and lower abdomen. “All good.”

“Not all good.” She halted him as he tried to reason with her, furrowing her eyebrows. “Where did they come from?”

Nobody could lie to her. Ever.

Nobody had to lie to her, really, because Isla Telford tried not to ask any questions—but she was worried tonight.

Worried about Tig and the various messes that he’d found himself entwined in over the last day and a half. Worried that he was in trouble, that he was tormenting himself over something out of his reach—his control.

She was just worried about him, really.

His sigh was throaty, hurt palpable. “You want the whole truth, or the dumbed-down version?”

“The whole truth.” She retorted instantaneously, letting him button his shirt before she started to clean the blood from his face. “And don’t try to lie to me, because I know you too well for that.”

Like last night, he felt pathetic. He felt that twinge of vulnerability poke through again, and he hated it.

He hated the thought of Isla seeing him this way—in pain, downtrodden and exhausted—and he hated the thought of her knowing that whatever it was he did today had gotten to him so much.

“The witness that was gonna testify against Ope. Me, Hap, and your old man went to go ‘n handle him,” Tig sucked in a deep breath when the alcohol pad nicked at a cut he was unaware of.

“I know about that part.” Easily, she followed on. “So what happened? Was he too fast?”

His head shook, an airy chuckle escaping his lips. “He was a she. A teenage girl—“

“Jesus, Tig.” Almost disgusted, she took a step back. “You didn’t…”

“No.” He reassured her, letting her soften a little bit before coming out with; “but me and Hap were gonna.”

“You’re kidding?”

If there was one thing that Isla knew SAMCRO did not do, it was kill women. Ever.

There had been accidents that saw innocent girls caught in the crossfire—last night, for one—which was inevitable. But the club never went out of their way to end their lives.

“Wish I was, Isla.” Tig’s eyes watered, but she didn’t do anything. She didn’t say anything, either. “I dunno what's happening to me.”

I don’t either, Tiggy.

“I was gonna put that bullet in her and if it wasn’t for Jax—“

“Jax was there?”

“He stormed in after someone must’ve told him we were gonna off the “man” that saw Ope and Bobby kill Hefner at that complex.”

“Oh.” She nodded along, cleaning out the wound she had literally only just fixed yesterday.

But the cogs inside of her brain were slowly turning.

“Oh…” Isla quickly looked down at him, piecing the puzzle together. “Tell me he didn’t do this to you.”

He winced as the whiskey left a searing trail down the back of his throat, barely making eye contact with her before she snapped.

“Tig! Talk to me—“

“Alright, fine! Yeah, he did this!” He raised his voice at her, watching anger flit across her delicate features. “He held his glock to my goddamn head and I was ready for him to pull the trigger, but he didn’t.”

She blinked at him, uneasy at the thought of what Jax had started to morph into. Who he had started to morph into.

“We ended up fighting and I got a few hits in, but the asshole punched me in the fucking face and threw me onto a table—that’s probably where the bruises came from.”

“And this was because of the girl, right?”

“Right.”

“But Happy and my dad were there, too…Why did Jax beat the shit outta you?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t,” she grabbed the tumbler from his right hand so he couldn’t silence himself with anymore alcohol, and put it atop the table.

“Because he stormed in when I had the gun to that kid’s head, and I was gonna pull the fucking trigger.” He recounted, sobbing as he spoke.

She was seething. Oh, Isla was fucking furious—but she didn’t want to spook him after this, because he was unpredictable and really unstable. She didn’t want him to do anything stupid.

“It’s alright.” The damp pad was discarded, tossed to the middle of the table when she grabbed gently at his chin and forced him to look upward. “You didn’t kill her, I’m assuming Jax handled it some other way, and you’re outta the blue, okay? It’s fine.”

Maybe Isla was so quick to forgive him for something that he didn’t do because she was also toiling with the idea of coming to terms with an act just as—if not more—treacherous than Tig’s.

She seeked that reassurance, that “it’s okay” talk from somebody after what she had done with her best friend, but she knew that the only person that’d give it to her was Jax. Because he was also trying to accept it.

The guilt was hefty and Tig knew all too fucking well what that’d entail, but he had no idea that Isla was suffering that same thing, too.

“You didn’t know the witness was a kid. None of you were to know that if Rosen didn’t specify.”

“But I was still gonna do it.” He added. “After I found out she was a kid, I was still gonna kill her.”

“But you didn’t.”

He was making it difficult for her to get through to him.

“It was horrible and I know that what you were going to do was bad, but you weren’t the only one there, about to do what you had to for your brother.” Isla’s thumb ran softly underneath his lower lip, hoping the tears welling in her eyes weren’t about to fall to the apples of her cheeks.

Because that’s all that Tig was doing. He was doing this for his brother. For the man that had already sacrificed so fucking much for his club, he deserved every last sliver of prosperity and protection that SAMCRO could offer.

And, perhaps, Tig wanting so desperately to pull that trigger was a way for him to solidify the fact that Opie wasn’t going to be sent away—wasn’t going to suffer more after his wife had been “mysteriously” killed. But Isla simply saw that as him wanting to do an inherently evil thing that’d see the greater good ensue.

Looking past the fact it was a teenage girl, however, was something she had to work on for the sake of her own fucking sanity.

“Thank you.” Tig broke the silence, getting to his feet. He towered over her a little bit as he did so. “See you tomorrow—“

Isla didn’t have enough time to think about what she was doing, but that phrase triggered something inside of her. She grabbed at his hand as he went to slip away, looking up at him with that almost heart-wrenching innocence of hers.

“I did something bad, too.” She blurted, letting her tears fall freely. “I can't say what I did, but it was bad and I regret it every fucking day because I can’t sleep properly, and it’s the only thing on my mind, and I just—“

He silenced her when he wrapped both arms around her trembling frame, holding her impossibly close to his chest as she weepeed into the navy cotton, and he gradually moved a hand upward to twist into her hair.

“It’s alright, baby, let it out.”

Mentally, he commended himself for being the one person that Isla trusted enough to confide in—to crumble before. But it was also sickening because the woman was so fucking stubborn and rarely ever shed a tear in front of a Son.

Chibs was the only one that saw her like this, really.

He felt horrible. Not because she was so upset but because she had so obviously been harboring that emotion, that pain and anguish and she didn’t know how to express it without crying.

“I’m scared, Tig.” Isla mumbled sadly into his chest, trying to sniff back the horrid emotion but failing miserably.

“Of what?”

“Myself. And these stupid things that I can’t stop thinking.”

“Thoughts are normal.” He reassured her, running a hand up and down her back. “Intrusive thoughts are normal. Don’t you worry—“

“You can’t tell me not to worry, because that’s gonna make me worry.” Her words were plied in a weak laugh. “And when I worry, I cry—obviously.”

“Don’t cry.” He chuckled, too, using the pad of his thumb to brush across her cheek. “You’re too pretty to cry this much.”

“And you’re too much of a mean old man to be this comforting.” Tig feigned offense, gasping dramatically at her words. “So, what was it? What pulled at your heartstrings so much that made you think you had to try and make me feel better?”

“It’s my good deed for the day.” Her lips curled upward into a grin when his expression softened.

“Do you think you can extend that good deed?”

He grunted, nodding. “Suppose so. What’d ‘ya want me to do?”

“I was just gonna ask if you’d stay with me again tonight.” All irreverence in her tone had melted away, promptly replaced by a borderline debilitating sincerity. “You don’t have to because we’ve gotta be out early for the funeral tomorrow, and that’d mean you’d have to leave earlier to get yourself fixed up, but—“

“I can leave a little earlier.” He cut her short, still swiping at the tears that wouldn’t quit flowing from her eyes. “If you get your ass up and ready before eight, you can leave with me too.”

“Yeah?” Hopefully, she asked. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Tig confirmed, slinging his arm over her shoulder when she pulled away and pointed toward the end of the hall. “And I guessed that you didn’t wanna head to the garage alone—and Gemma would probably beat the shit outta you if you were late—so if you come with me, you’ll be on time.”

Isla just hummed, thankful for the genuine intentions behind Tig’s actions. He was sweet when he wanted to be.

“Where am I sleepin’?” He asked with a little grunt, a twinge of pain prickling against his ribcage. “I’ll take the couch—“

“Oh, shut up. You’re not sleeping on my couch after getting your shit rocked.”

Tig glared at her, but she simply raised an eyebrow. She gestured to her bedroom.

“Y’know, if we keep spending the night together then people are gonna get a little suspicious.”

“Eh. Let ‘em.” Isla stated offhandedly shimmying her shoulders out of her robe, and throwing it onto her vanity stool as she got to her room. “I don’t care what Gemma thinks.”

“Not so much Gemma.” They shared a knowing look, but he followed her into the room and sat at the edge of her bed regardless.

Isla sighed, sitting beside him.

“If you’re worried about my dad because of how he was this morning, then you don’t need to be. I think he’s just a little bit spun out after last night, and feels bad for Ope—‘cuz, y’know, he’s been through this too.”

Tig’s heartbeat hastened to an almost debilitating tempo, wondering how Isla knew the similarities between Diane and Donna. But she blew those thoughts right out his brain when she built on her response.

“He lost his wife and was left with a kid,” she pointed to herself, “and didn’t know how to navigate this life without the woman he’d depended on for so long. It’s just heavy at the moment.”

“Yeah,” he shook his head a little, looking at his hands bunched together in his lap, “you’re probably right about that.”

“It’s all that it is. He’s just feelin’ it a little more than what we are.”

I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Isla.

“Anyway.” She perked up a bit more. “If you wanna freshen up, I’ve got some shampoo and lotions that don’t smell like roses in the bathroom—and I think there might be some razors in one of those cupboards, too.”

“You gonna join me?”

The tips of her ears began to blaze, stippling heat across her cheeks and down to her neck until she could almost feel how red she was getting.

Despite knowing that was a joke—the habitual banter shared between them—it still forced a feeling to swell in her stomach.

A feeling of something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“Maybe tomorrow.” Isla chuckled at the playful pout tugging at his lips, urging him to step into the en suite before she physically fucking exploded.

He grabbed a towel from the pile, walked in, and shut the door behind him, and she threw herself against the top of the comforter with a groan.

At what point had Tig’s harmless flirting turned into something more for Isla, she wasn’t entirely sure. What she did know, however, was that she was definitely enjoying it a little bit too much now.

And that would complicate things, she was certain of it.

But she strived not to let it get to her, and slid underneath the unkempt covers for the second time tonight.

When Tig emerged from the bathroom, he was thankful to see that she’d covered herself up because the tiny crimson cami and shorts combo was killing him.

He wasn’t able to pinpoint just what it was that’d made him feel so differently about that this evening, but he knew that he wasn’t able to get the image out of his fucking head.

“Was that nice?” She asked from the left side of her bed, barely opening her eyes as he stepped onto the carpet.

“It was.” Tig answered softly, picking his jeans up from the ground.

“You can’t seriously be wearing those to sleep in?”

“I’ve slept in more uncomfortable outfits.”

Isla huffed out a breath, gripping the covers and pulling them back. “Wait here.” Begrudgingly, she left the bed again and traipsed toward the cabinet at the end of her hallway.

He watched her saunter away, heeding the crow tattoo on her lower back that he’d never noticed before. He wondered who she’d gotten that for, and he also wondered if anybody even knew about that—because he certainly did not.

“These are clean, you can wear them.” She threw a pair of pajama pants at him from the doorway, hoping he wouldn’t make a face.

Cautiously, he held them out in front of him. “Whose are these?”

“Nobodies. I just learned—from Gemma—to always keep spare shit at my house. Like the shower stuff and razors, and I’ve got things for whoever might need them.”

He smiled, forgetting that she was so thoughtful.

Tig unzipped his pants and slipped into the checkered cotton as Isla rummaged around the bottom drawer of her closet, pulling out a couple of pillows.

“You do this a lot?” He quizzed, getting into bed. “Take care of us guys, I mean.”

“Not really. Only when one of you needs it.”

He nodded, taking one of the two pillows from her.

“Aside from stitching you up two days in a row, the last time I took care of somebody was when Jax and Wendy split and he let her live at his place.”

“He never said.”

“‘Cuz Gemma would go nuts if she found out that he came to me and not his mommy.” She chuckled, settling beside him before flicking the lamp off. “And he only stayed with me for a couple weeks because he didn’t wanna sleep at the clubhouse.”

“So you were harboring Jax from her, huh?” He nudged her, prompting Isla to shift closer to him.

“I guess so.” She joked back through a yawn. “I felt bad for him because she’s such a hardass sometimes. He just wanted somewhere to stay, and somebody to keep him company that wouldn’t ask an abundance of overbearing questions.”

“And you were that somebody.”

“Yup. I was.” Tig turned onto his side to face her. “And I liked it because I hate being alone. It was nice to have somebody around.”

“You? Not wanting to be alone?” Sarcastically, he let out.

Had he not already been hurt, she would’ve slapped the smugness off of his face for that comment.

“What’s that all about, huh?”

“The being alone thing?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know, really.” She mused quietly, pursing her lips. “I think I just got used to being around my dad, and whenever I wasn’t with him I was with Gemma—and I didn’t move into my own place until I was twenty-three, so…”

“So you always had somebody.”

“Yup. I guess I have some attachment issues.” Isla chuckled, silently thanking him for not ridiculing her the way she thought that he might’ve.

But Tig was always so thoughtful when it came to her, and he probably wouldn’t have been able to find it in himself to make fun of that sentiment.

He had his own issues, too. He wouldn’t dream of mocking that she didn’t like to be alone.

“Is it Jax’s?” He asked out of nowhere in reference to the crow. “The tattoo you got.”

Isla froze. She didn’t know that he’d seen it tonight.

Only Tara knew about that. Only Tara knew about a lot of things, it seemed.

“No.” She rasped, hating the way her words became lodged at the back of her throat.

Tig raised a brow. “Whose is it? Is it Juice’s—“

She snorted at his words, and he smiled because he had finally gaged a more positive reaction. Her smile—though barely visible—was most certainly as beautiful as ever.

“It isn’t anybody’s. It’s just a SAMCRO crow.” The smile was weak, now. Faded and pained, but it was there.

She wasn’t lying, but it felt like there was more to the story than what she was letting on, and he was happy with the answer that he’d gotten. So he didn't push it.

“Would you ever get a crow for someone?” A question that he never thought he’d be asking Chibs’s daughter, but a question that he had to acquire an answer to.

After mulling it over for a few seconds, Isla nodded. She laid her hand atop Tig’s that was resting against his pillow, and flicked her eyes upward to meet his gaze as he yawned.

“Maybe one day. But, right now, I’m happy knowing that my little tattoo represents my dedication to the club as a whole—not just refined to one person.”

#tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fic #tig trager x oc #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller x oc #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic

22 notes · View notes

livinginsunnyhell · 4 years

Note

Ask game for fanfic writers! ⌨️🖊📓📝

1. What fandoms do you write for?

2. What pairings do you write for?

3. What is your most popular fanfic?

4. Do you write original stories as well?

5. What fanfic of yours should everyone have read?

6. What is a fandom you will never write for?

7. What is a ship you will never write for?

8. Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.net, Wattpad, Tumblr, etc. which platform do you prefer?

9. What are your favorite fanfics?

10. How do you stay motivated to finish what you’ve started?

11. What’s your longest fanfic?

12. Do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh?

13. What is your planning process?

14. What have others criticized about your fanfic?

15. OCs or no OCs?

16. Do you use sentence starters, writing prompts and/or fandom headcanons for your fanfics?

17. Do you use/follow advice from writing blogs/posts?

18. What is your favorite writing prompt?

19. Dead or overused tropes?

20. Can we get a list of all of your current available fanfics?

21. What’s your shortest fanfic?

22. Do you listen to music during your writing process? What music do you listen to while you’re writing?

23. Long chapters or short chapters?

24. How many WIPs (work-in-progress) do you’ve got?

25. How many WIPs will you finish?

26. First-person-narrative or third-person-narrative?

27. Do you take requests?

28. I will name you three things (drunk Ian — shared bachelor party — Gallavich): write a paragraph or two!

29. What’s more difficult? Fanfics or original work?

30. What writing software do you use?

31. Do you use beta/sensitivity readers?

32. Past or present tense?

33. Do friends and family know that you write fanfics?

34. How did you find the magical world of fanfics?

35. What is your favorite review?

36. Did you ever delete a work of yours?

37. Did your work ever get plagiarized?

38. Do you partake in any fanfic/writing events? (Big bangs, zines, NaNoWriMo, etc?)

39. Collaborations or working solo?

40. Do you have any rituals before uploading a fic?

41. What is something you don’t like about your writing?

42. Rudest review?

43. Guilty pleasure tropes and scenarios?

44. Does fanart of your fanfic exist?

45. Do fanfics of your fanfic exist?

46. Few long essay reviews or many short reviews?

47. What fanfic of yours is truly underrated?

48. What is your favorite sentence that you’ve used in a fanfic?

49. Where do you draw inspiration from?

50. Can we get a teaser for an upcoming chapter?

(Don't feel obligated to answer. Thought if you're into these kinda things, that'd be a nice ask. ;))

Oh this is so nice!! Thanks for sending this @annansmith

I chose a few of them to do.

1. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I’m writing for Shameless (Gallavich) but I’ve written for:

Veronica Mars (LoVe), Veep (Amy/Dan), Arrow (Oliver/Felicity), Once Upon A Time (Hook/Emma), The Old Guard (Joe/Nicky), That 70′s show (Hyde/Jackie), Sons of Anarchy (Tara/Jax), Vampire Diaries (Klaroline), Hart of Dixie (Zoe/Wade), Gilmore Girls (Rory/Jess), X-men (Rogue/Pyro), One Tree Hill (Haley/Nathan), and a few others.

2. What pairings do you write for?

Now I write Gallavich.

But I’d say my top ones I love writing for now (my fanfiction writing has spanned about 14 years) are Dan/Amy, Veronica/Logan, Klaus/Caroline, Mickey/Ian.

3. What is your most popular fanfic?

My most popular fic on Ao3 is The Course of True Love (Arrow) and on FF Of Bloodshed, Babies, and Epic LoVe (Veronica Mars)

4. Do you write original stories as well?

Yes, I do. I’m working on a book, well, two books. But it’s going very slowly. The first is a memoir of my travels from around the world and the second is a vampire urban fantasy one. We’ll see how it goes, but I’d like to finish them by next year and see if I can get them published, but it’s hard so who knows.

10. How do you stay motivated to finish what you’ve started?

Well, recently I’ve really been trying to finish everything I write. I have a lot of WIPs from years and years ago and even within the the last year, so this answer is pretty new. Basically, I focus on one fic at a time and write a little every day to stay motivated. Now, I try to update once a week on a certain day. I think comments/reviews and kudos and people being genuinely encouraging helps though. It’s also what’s gotten me considering finishing my older fics.

11. What’s your longest fanfic?

Of Bloodshed, Babies, and Epic Love (over 165k)

13. What is your planning process?

Now, it’s different. I have a doc of ideas and I wait to see which one I can’t seem to shake. Then I plan out each chapter with a few sentences and I have a list of things I want to focus on in the story. Usually, each story now has a kind of theme to it and a main focus. I sometimes will just want to write a certain situation/scene/focus and the story is born from there. But what really helps is writing down chapter 1, 2, etc. and having a sentence or two for what I want to happen. It doesn’t always go according to plan, but I never get writers block or forget what happened in previous chapters now.

16. Do you use sentence starters, writing prompts and/or fandom headcanons for your fanfics?

Probably a mixture of fandom (or my personal) headcanons. I don’t start with prompts unless it’s a challenge or sentence starters. Usually, I have a scene I already want to write in my head and then I sit down and write it.

17. Do you use/follow advice from writing blogs/posts?

Yes, I’ve read several books on writing. My undergrad was creative writing too, so I learned a lot there. I also follow writing instagram accounts which are helpful. I take everything I learn with a grain of salt and I see what is best for me. The best advice I heard recently was short sentences and so now I’m experimenting with that.

20. Can we get a list of all of your current available fanfics?

There’s a lot from many different fandoms. I used to be on FF.net as Psyc0gurl0 and now I’m ProstheticLoVe on a03. I like writing on ao3 better cause it’s easier and I love the tagging process. Plus the gallavich fandom on there is unreal. So to think about going back to ff.net to finish my WIPs seems like such a process now.

Currently though, I’m writing an Ian’s POV 5 chapter fic called Chocolate. It’s not out yet, but it’ll focus on Ian from 1x06 to 1x09 or so and how his feelings for Mickey change and evolve. It’s the second part to a series called Chocolate and Cigarettes. Mickey’s POV was Cigarettes.

22. Do you listen to music during your writing process? What music do you listen to while you’re writing?

Yes, I listen while writing but I need silence while editing. I have a Love (lol) playlist. It’s basically all the love songs that remind me of couples I ship. So for example, The Acid is in there a lot because their music is great, but also Basic Instinct is so haunting. Overall, I like all music except country, so sometimes I’ll listen to my larger playlists while writing.

23. Long chapters or short chapters?

So this has changed over the years. Initially, I wrote short chapters, then when I got back into fanfiction while writing klaroline they got a lot longer and now it’s just basically where the chapter has a natural ending. So the chapters are between 4 - 10k words depending. I try to get over 4k though. Right now, once I’m done with my current fic, I really want to write something over 100k.

24. How many WIPs (work-in-progress) do you’ve got?

A lot...none in Shameless though. Well, I guess my current one, but I haven’t posted that yet. I’d say I probs have about 10 WIPs spanning different fandoms. I know. But my goal for 2021 is to pick two and finish them.

25. How many WIPs will you finish?

Not all of them. Some of them are from years and years ago. But I’d like to finish the ones that I still get reviews on. So there’s a SOAs fic I want to finish cause that fandom is so lovely. I also want to finish a klaroline one cause that was fun to write. And my Amy/Dan ones I’d like to finish. I would like to finish my Veronica Mars ones (I have two) but they need a lot more attention, so when people message me about them I tell them the planned ending.

28. I will name you three things (drunk Ian — shared bachelor party — Gallavich): write a paragraph or two!

“Fuck, Mickey, I probably shouldn’t have had the third Hot Toddy,” Ian grimaced as the world around him spun.

Mickey laughed at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Ian wanted to think his future husband just wanted to pull him closer, but he had a feeling it was to steady him.

“Probably should’ve cut you off earlier,” Mickey said tugging Ian closer.

Ian wobbled and plopped down on the back steps of the porch. Mickey followed suit a moment letter and they both looked out toward the backyard where the Gallaghers, Balls, and a few of the Milkovich cousins were alternatively huddling around a fire, drinking, and dancing.

“I blame Lip for making us have this stupid shared bachelor party in the first place,” Ian grumbled.

Mickey kissed him on the forehead as Ian lay his head on his shoulder. “It’s Sandy’s fault too.”

Ian hmmed in response and Mickey knew he was going to fall asleep any moment. He ran his hand up and down Ian’s arm and watched as Debbie bounced over to them.

“Jesus, you aren’t even married yet and you two are like an old married couple. Are you going to come dance or what?” she whined.

Mickey looked down at Ian, whose eyes were already closed, and then back up to Debbie. She was watching them with knowing eyes.

“We’ll dance at the wedding. Go grab Lip, I need his help to get Sleeping Beauty upstairs.”

Debbie turned to go get her eldest brother and Mickey looked back down at Ian. In his sleep, he nuzzled Mickey’s shoulder, breathed deeply, and a gentle smile appeared there.

3 more days and they’d officially be husbands.

34. How did you find the magical world of fanfics?

I was about 10 and my cousin used to write a buffy the vampire slayer zine. There was a link to a site called buffyworld.com or something like that. And I found fanfic that way. There was a link on the site to ff.net and that’s how I stumbled across that. I stayed there for many many years until my second time in the veronica mars fandom around 2014 when I was lead to a03 and then I’ve been there ever since. On and off, my writing has fluctuated through the years based on my personal life.

49. Where do you draw inspiration from?

Everywhere! omg. It’s insane. Gallavich I love writing for. There’s so many different facets to them, but truly everywhere I find inspiration. I have a whole doc of gallavich ideas that have stemmed from other fanfics, headcanons from me and other people, rewatching episodes, what’s going to happen in s11, cute moments i’d like to see happen, holidays, and just general life. I saw a pic of WW2 vets who were in a long term relationship and i was like mickey and ian! another idea is born.

11 notes · View notes

pastelsushika · 5 years

Conversation

MK11 Roster & their fave KPOP artists

(both male and female groups) (these are only headcanons so don't @ me fellas)

Cassie Cage: BlackPink and BTS. I can see her jamming to Boombayah and Not Today. Her biases would be Lisa and Taehyung for sure.

Kano: Dreamcatcher and Block B. Something that has a rock-ish vibe, or a lot of rapping like Chase Me and Nilili Mambo. Biases would include Dami and P.O.

Erron Black: Brown Eyed Girls and Super Junior. The older gen, and if they had a wild west themed comeback, it's his fave now. Biases are Miryo and Heechul.

Kabal: AOA and EXO. Something hot and fun, just like him. Biases include Seolhyun and Kai.

Johnny Cage: TWICE and BTS. He'd totally love the contrast between these two groups and would love the other popular bands as well(but twice and bts are his faves). Biases are Dahyun and RM.

Sonya Blade: Girls' Generation and Super Junior. The classics for sure, and I can't really imagine anything else. She'd totally fight with Cassie about which gen is better. Biases are Taeyeon and Eunhyuk.

Skarlet: Red Velvet and VIXX. She has this vibe that she'd enjoy these two groups, as their concepts are out of the cookie cutter mold of the general kpop stuff. Biases are Yeri and Ravi.

Jacqui Briggs: ITZY and MONSTA X. All about the choreos and rap line. Biases are Ryujin and I.M.

Jax: Sistar and B.A.P.. I think the mature and empowering lyrics would suit him, and he'd totally fight with Sonya about which older generation kpop group is superior. Biases are Hyorin and Yongguk.

Cetrion: Chungha and EXO. The lively, young female soloist with the special powered men with their elements is her in a nutshell. From the band, her bias would be Baekhyun I think, or D.O.

Scoprion: Girls' Generation and SHINee. The two groups that her enjoys the most, and their Japanese discography is what made him choose these two. Biases are Yoona and Taemin.

Sub Zero: T-ARA and Super Junior. These two groups' Chinese discography and uniqueness is what draws him to them. Biases are Jiyeon and Henry.

Noob Saibot: GFRIEND and DAY6. The more emotional, sad songs are his prefered ones. Biases are more likely Yuju and Jae.

Raiden: LOONA and Super Junior. Raiden would like everything that's elegant, and powerful. His biases are Yves and Siwon.

Baraka: EVERGLOW and TXT. The man is still new to the whole Earthrealmer thing, and Cassie thought that these two new groups would be perfect for him. As the groups are new to the world of kpop, they all can experience it together. Biases include Eunbin and Soobin.

Kollector: WJSN and SEVENTEEN. The more, the merries. The man collects things, and if a group has at least 10 members, it's a win in his book. Biases are Luda and Woozi.

Shao Kahn: Sunmi and GDRAGON. Shao Kahn would hate groups, I think, as they would rebel against him, according to him. So he thinks that soloists are more managable, and enjoyable.

Frost: PRISTIN and ATEEZ. She'd not really give a damn about the more mainstream bands, and would love to see others rise to the top like she will in the future she hopes. Biases are Kyulkyung and Seonghwa.

Kotal Kahn: Miss A and INFINITE. I think he would totally love the new generation of kpop, but his heart would always go back to the good ol' days. Biases are Suzy and Sunggyu.

Jade: Brown Eyed Girls and SF9. The choreos and the amazing looking idols would draw her to them. Biases are Gain and Rowoon.

Kitana: MAMAMOO and PENTAGON. The amazing vocals are her weakness, and she admits it that their visuals are something to look upto. Biases are Solar and Hui.

Lui Kang: TWICE and NCT. The difficult choreographies are what he'd enjoy learning the most, but he would not tell Kung Lao about it. Biases are Jeongyeon and Kun.

Kung Lao: MOMOLAND and BTS. He does not care about the feud around some toxic fans in these two fandoms, he thinks they are all good looking, and hard working people, who deserve everything in the world. Biases are Nancy and Jin.

D'vorah: Cherry Bullet and ASTRO. She'd find them especially alluring, and they are young and capable of so many things that she thinks other groups can't. Biases are May and Sanha.

Shang Tsung: IZ*ONE and PENTAGON. Like Kollector, he thinks that the more members a group has, the better. I think he'd enjoy some of the more lively songs, or the mature ones.

Geras: HyunA and PSY. I think he'd enjoy these two artists due to their popularity. Also because their comebacks are like him, like a phoenix from it's ashes, and I don't know, it seems fitting for him.

74 notes · View notes

kalinara · 5 years

Text

Rip Week #1 The Many Faces of Rip

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything positive about Legends of Tomorrow. However, it’s Rip Hunter Appreciation Week, which is a time meant for positivity! At one point this show, and this character, had me blogging meta on a daily basis for almost two and a half years and introduced me to some great people! And I will always be grateful for that.

So the topic for Day 1 of Rip Hunter Appreciation Week: The Many Faces of Rip Hunter.

One thing that still fascinates me about Rip as a character is that, even though he’d only been a central character on the show for 1.5 seasons, we’ve gotten to see so many different sides of the character. He’s been deconstructed so thoroughly and so fascinatingly, allowing us to really appreciate what makes the character tick.

Let’s start with Rip himself, the baseline number. The guy who kidnapped a bunch of assholes, brought them to the roof of a tall building (and I still wonder how the stringy little bastard actually managed that) and gave them a sales pitch of a lifetime.

From the opening scene of the pilot, to Rip’s almost goodbye into the sun in Legendary, season one was first and foremost the story of a man broken by grief and betrayal, who slowly, and reluctantly found a reason to go on, and people to share it with. Rip spent season one a raw, open wound, ugly in his pain and rage. He tried very hard not to stay focused on his goal. He tried very hard not to care about his team.

He failed pretty much on day one, when he saved Martin Stein’s marriage. He failed again not too long after that when he abandoned the closest thing he had to a working plan to get Carter’s body back for Kendra. And he kept failing over and over again.

And they saved him. They challenged him. They forced him to look outside of his single-focused obsession and look at the people that they could save around them. They forced him to take a long hard look at what he was doing when he started to go too far. And he very clearly and very obviously loved them for it.

I still can’t believe that fandom still tries to claim that Rip didn’t care about his team, when we saw how broken he was after each major loss: Carter, Leonard, even Jax (almost). That’s not a man who is unfeeling.

We saw Rip as a child: a tiny savage creature who, even when warm and fed, was still ready to stab the nearest adult who threatened him. It gave a new, fascinating insight to the tension Rip had with both Leonard Snart and Mick Rory. As well as possibly another reason that he’d bonded with Sara so strongly. Rip is someone who understands what it means to become a monster in order to survive, and what it means to have to live with that afterward. It likely does make it difficult when face to face with people who represented the worst of that time (and that’s not even touching on how child Rip probably met a number of people who looked and acted similar to our lovable Rogues, and it likely would not have ended well.)

We’ve never really seen the man Rip was before he was broken. Except perhaps for a giddy romantic moment with Miranda and that horrible humiliation when they were caught. We’ve heard a bit more: from that pirate in Marooned, from Magister Druce and Jonah Hex. We can draw inferences: a man who was capable and skilled (though perhaps not as skilled as his wife :-)), who never the less was a rulebreaker at heart. Someone who fell in love with the idea of heroism to the point where he almost left the Time Masters entirely. Someone who, while loyal, wasn’t quite willing to trust his masters with the tool to unmake reality. But at the same time, someone whose fundamental trust in INDIVIDUALS like Mary Xavier and Magister Druce, survived even when his world fell apart.

At the end of season 1, we got a Rip Hunter who was ready to finally move past his grief, and it will forever be something of a disappointment to me that the series decided to give us a time jump instead of actually showing us Rip learning to be part of a real team.

But season 2 did give us a truly fascinating deconstruction of Rip Hunter as an individual.

One very common plot in almost every superhero’s story is the depowerment story arc. Who is our hero when he doesn’t have what makes him a hero? It’s most common for men like Superman of course, but we even get it for folks like Batman or Green Arrow. What are these men without their money, or their physicality?

What is Rip Hunter without his knowledge, his memories, or his time machine?

Well, we saw him. And he was adorable! Phil Gasmer was a hilarious story beat, but unlike maybe certain other storyline elements that we see in later seasons, there was also a point to Phil Gasmer. Phil Gasmer showed us the kind of man that Rip Hunter is deep down.

He’s creative. He’s clever. He’s determined. He’s a little whiny. And definitely high. Rip is a man who would benefit from a little unofficial pharmaceutical help. He’s a man who, when the world suddenly goes sideways, will first attempt to protect his friend. He’s a man who, when face to face with a stranger with scary abilities, will try to hit him with a script. He’s a man who loves his team so much that even when he has no conscious recollection of them, he made them the basis of his movie. And he’s a man who walked out to face the Legion to save a bunch of strangers who kidnapped him, because it was the right thing to do.

I’d like to think in another universe, Phil didn’t get kidnapped by Eobard Thawne there, but instead made it back on the ship, where the crew actually got the chance to get to know Rip without all the baggage. I think they’d have gotten along.

And then there’s evil Rip.

“Teammate goes evil” storylines are a dime a dozen, in superhero lore, but there’s a reason for that. When done well, they can be amazing. And ultimately, I think the evil Rip storyline was done very well.

One of the things that I always liked about the evil Rip storyline is how it utterly destroyed that pervasive (and wrong!) fan idea that Rip never cared about his team. Because they showed us a Rip who didn’t care about his team, and he was a fucking scary son of a bitch.

He also showed us how Rip’s best worst enemy was always going to be himself. Because holy shit, Rip is competent when he’s not tripping himself up. Turncoat was terrifying in all the best ways, and even that opening of Land of the Lost was amazing. It’s still very amusing to me that the most effective member of the Legion of Doom was the one Eobard brainwashed into it.

One thing I always found fascinating about evil Rip is that, for all that he lacks Rip’s compassion, empathy and love, he didn’t go the usual scenery chewing sadist route. He’s a monster, of course. He was perfectly happy to murder Sara, to carve the spear piece out of McNider, and brainwash the entire knights of Camelot. But it was always a measured sort of evil.

Evil Rip had a goal, and evil Rip pursued his goal. And if he could get what he wanted in a relatively non-disruptive and non-violent way, he was willing to try it. He had no interest in terrorizing the Waverider crew once he had the spear piece from them, even when he saw that Sara had survived her murder. He tried to trick McNider, only resorting to violence when McNider saw through it. When he had control of the knights, he just had them stand there, much to Darhk’s boredom, rather than playacting some farce for his amusement as some of the others might have done.

Evil Rip was our chance to appreciate how truly formidable Rip could actually be, and also appreciate those qualities that kept him from turning into that monster again.

My biggest disappointment in this story arc was how little we got to see Rip interact with the other members of the Legion. His interactions with Eobard and Darhk, in what little we had, were very entertaining. But we never saw him interact with Malcolm at all (I admit to being intrigued by this, because I thought Malcolm had actually had the most interesting dynamic with Phil in Legion of Doom), and we never saw Eobard react to his capture. Missed opportunities or food for fanfic?

I don’t know if Doomworld Rip really counts, but I have to admit that, compared to some of Rip’s other coping mechanisms, baking cakes to deal with a year of solitary confinement (Gideon sort of counts, but she’s just a voice at this point), is pretty good for him. I hope he actually got a chance to eat them.

The idea behind Rip at the Time Bureau really was a good one. The idea that Rip would have created this organization, but specifically designed it to be the antithesis of the Time Masters: open, transparent, and accountable, is a good one. But unfortunately, season 3 never really explored that to the extent I would have liked.

It’s hard to imagine the Rip who recruited Sara before she could die with her sister to Damien Darhk would be okay with leaving Zari in a prison without a very good reason. But we never got that reason. Of course, maybe he wasn’t. He wasn’t in that episode. We know from Ava that he didn’t want her chasing the Legends, and wanted them given “lenience”. But if he’s not on board with that, how much of the Time Bureau is actually under his control?

Considering that Return of the Mack told us that Rip allowing Darhk to be resurrected in order to confront him with agents was a “sanctioned” plan (that Rip still ends up in prison for, because Rip is just that good with people), that implies a certain level of oversight. His and Bennett’s dynamic seemed just shy of outright antagonistic. And certainly Rip seemed a lot more blase about seeing Bennett meet a grisly end than seems warranted. This is a man who dismantled the team after Leonard Snart died.

I mean, trying to work out coherent characterization for ANYONE in season 3 is a bit of a problem, but I feel like if the Time Bureau had gotten the same level of focus that it gets much later, perhaps some of these things could actually work. If, for example, there are multiple factions within the Bureau with their own ideas on what the Bureau is supposed to do, (perhaps tied with the oversight that Rip specifically put in place, because there’s nothing more Rip Hunter than getting hoisted up by his own petard), then a lot of the more confused behavior by the organization could make more sense.

In the end though, Rip is still a secretive, scheming bastard who cares very deeply for his team, and I wouldn't give up that wonderful, almost baggage free friendship with Wally for anything. So it does have its good points.

Ultimately, I think that all of these facets make Rip one of the most well-developed and defined characters in the CW-verse, even when compared with others who have had years and years of screentime. It’s fun to poke around and explore all of these layers and see how they fit. And it definitely is food for some great fanfic. I’m told some other Rip fans will be writing some great fic for #RipWeek. You should go check them out!

#rip hunter #legends of tomorrow #RipWeek #Rip Hunter Appreciation Week

40 notes · View notes

thejenesaisquoigirl · 5 years

Note

For your D&D character meme, how 'bout odds for Talise, evens for Tamsyn, and the letter C? :D

Had a feeling this revenge was coming XD *cracks knuckles* Here we go!

1) What would they consider to be their biggest failure?

Talise: Oof. Maybe not being able to save her family, or at least her sister-in-law and nephew. Maybe her (former) deep reliance on alcohol once her memories started coming back. Trauma is a motherfucker

2) What’s the story behind their name?

Tamzen: When it comes to naming characters, I really just start thinking of names that stick out. It started with “Tiernan”–from Pirate Queen–and I must have watched an episode of The Tudors with Tamsin Merchant to remember that name, too. “Tamsin” kept sounding best with the character concept and then the spelling changed to “-zen” as a subtle joke since she’s a monk haha

3) What’s their relationship with their family?

Talise: When she was Hosanna, very close. They all loved learning (though maybe different things), the people in their city, and each other. She was closest to her brother, Yanis, despite their age difference. She felt adrift without a family unit, having a ship and crew helped, and finding Yanis has upset any equilibrium she was finding.

4) What’s one song that describes them or is them?

Tamzen: Not many peeps know this, but she was built to be the personification of the “Morgan: Amor Tristis (or Morgan - Amor Tristis on Spotify)” instrumental from the Ah! My Goddess movie. My all-time favorite instrumental and it suits her story.

5) Who is their best friend?

Talise: Expanding on the Yanis thing, he was her best friend growing up. So the years in which she thought he was dead and that she failed him were rough…but she was working towards a place of resignation…then they found him alive. It’s super weird now because yes, her brother used to be able to embarrass her; but now, it’s the first time she’s ever felt shame. Hosanna, while sharing a small flair for the dramatic, was a very different person than Talise was crafted to be. But in the party, Jax is the closest to a best friend, no contest.

6) Why are they their class?

Tamzen: She ran away from the city after her heartbreak and stumbled across a traveling group of mousefolk. Most of them were monks but since she stayed with the leader and his wife (the only ones with stuff able to house a larger humanoid), they were the ones who taught her as a way to find calm and take back a sense of control.

7) What do they think of their party members?

Talise: She feels distinct lines in the sand. At first, they seemed only about their sleeping habits (there was no other way the rooming arrangements could have shaken out and everyone live). But now, it feels very much like two separate factions working together. Separately: Q- she’s terrified of everything she does being in that book, and she has a hard time wrestling with his innocent naiveté when it reminds her of who she used to be. Briony- Not used to being around women in a strictly friendship sense, but is happy for her presence so Q has someone of a similar maturity. Braxton- He’s rarely there. Jax- They instinctually understand each other. It’s complicated but in a good way. Caspian- Like recognizes like but she feels they have different motivations behind collecting information…and it’s hard for her to move beyond a betrayal of trust.

8) In what ways are they similar to you?

Tamzen: Extremely calm under pressure, thinks she’s never good enough to be significant to anyone enough to not leave her, thoughtful gift-giver, gives herself for others until there’s nothing left, can have an accidentally sharp sense of humor, deep well of feeling and protectiveness for those she considers “hers”

9) In what ways are they different from you?

Talise: Unashamed in the way she moves through the world, unabashedly flirtatious and teasing, confident, how she copes with things (tends to be physical indulgences), seeing trust as black and white, unafraid of confrontation or large birds

10) What do they look for in a romantic partner, if they have a romantic orientation?

Tamzen: Someone who doesn’t see her as second best or not enough. Someone she doesn’t need to take care of but who can take care of her. Tamzen has a competency kink a mile wide; so if they’re even-keeled, stronger, a better fighter, and extremely skilled in what they do…they’re definitely her type. She’s a pretty quiet person, so they need to be comfortable with silence and understand things unsaid as she’s very action-oriented. You can tell a lot about how she feels about someone based on her actions, not her words. They also need to love her son.

11) If they had a patronus or animagus form, what would it be?

Talise: Ooooooooo….idk. Maybe a panther animagus? Something that slinks around with confidence but can be very soft. Patronus would be a cat like Talis or a hippogriff like Fantôme…or a peafowl.

12) What do they smell like?

Tamzen: Orange blossoms and vanilla, with hints of herbs that can be used medicinally (eg: lavender, tea tree, etc)

13) What is their secret skill?

Talise: Sketching/drawing. She’s intensely private about it; but has charcoal, pencils, and a sketchbook in her pack that’s rather like a diary.

14) What is their relationship to spirituality?

Tamzen: Complicated haha. She’s a “tsuki kitsune” and I tweaked that to mean she’s a fox blessed by the goddess of love with the potential of becoming “human.” Her “parents” are the guardians of a special, unknown spot in a forest the goddess has declared sacred; there to take care of the clearing and of any creature blessed by it…and Tamzen was a fox spawned there. Anyways, so even as a fox, she was engrained with this strong belief in the goddess and had an awareness of her presence; but then something devastating happened with the person Tamzen thought she was fated to be with–who had been the cause of her transformation. Ever since, Tamzen has had a tumultuous time with the idea of love…much less having firm faith in her goddess, because she feels betrayed. She’s slowly trying to repair her side of the relationship through making sure her friends find love; but she still thinks she’s been abandoned by someone she had absolute faith in, so she’s weary.

15) If they were to be remembered for something, what would they want to be remembered for?

Talise: NOT like what they were shouting at Hosanna. She’d like to be remembered, in general, rather than lost to lines in a book. She wants people to speak of her and the small amount of goodness she’s put into the world.

16) Why did they become an adventurer?

Tamzen: Happenstance led to her becoming a monk…and she needed additional discipline to try to silence the rage and nastiness brewing inside of her, so she joined the army. The adventuring grew from that.

17) What’s one thing about their backstory that came to you after you already started playing the campaign?

Talise: THIS HAPPENS ALL THE TIME. One notable thing–I hadn’t even thought about her being an alcoholic (sober now) until making her playlist. For some reason, “Chandelier” kept coming up and it had to have been a sign because it’s deepened her in ways I wasn’t expecting. Also her tattoos.

18) Do you have any headcanons for them that haven’t come up in game? Or headcanons for other party members?

Tamzen: Totes! She plays the lute only for Tal or when she needs to really think through something–frequently those moments are one in the same when he’s playing outside. Her internal crisis over always being second best and slowly being resigned to it. Party members: Mama: they sometimes read together (even though Tamzen doesn’t like to read), trade skills (Mama helps her build strength and she helps Mama with flexibility), and that Mama has to spend extra time in front of a mirror before going to a fancy event to take in the fact that this is her life now and she gets to wear these pretty things and be feminine. Kerrick: that he’ll sometime have ink in his hair from running his fingers through it while copying down spells. TBD: thinks it’s hilarious how he still hasn’t had to explain his name and has a running bet with himself over it. Finn: she catches Tal speaking squeakspeak to Finn while playing and Finn just going with it and trying to learn the game through context instead.

19) Any ships with your character? If a PC or NPC, what interaction launched it?

Talise: YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE, SHIPPY MCSHIPPERSON xD. She’s the first character in a LONG time I legit ship with another PC. Whether it becomes romantic or remains platonic (it’s not just up to me or Talise), Jax is the most significant person in her life–excluding her brother. They just got each other from day one and they seem to be the only ones able to easily talk to the other, even when the subject is difficult. The canon you created about her feeling safe with Jax is 100% true; ever since Before, she has a hard time sleeping around other people but she trusts him enough to even share a bed…and he’s the only one with whom she would never be anything but truthful. At their core, they are people reinventing themselves after tragedy but don’t know if they’re doing it right. But Jax makes Talise feel it’s alright to be who she authentically is rather than acting the part she’s written for herself; and to find joy again in the things from her past. The ship’s legit launch was after their serious conversation about “equivalent exchange” in relationships (about Caspian) and has since been buoyed by all their side chats + interactions. “…are you just going to stare at me?” “Until you’re ready.”

20) What would your character consider their biggest success? Or what is your favorite success your character has had so far?

Tamzen: Tal and facing Silas again. She’s really surprised me in how she’s been able to grow to where she is now…so that’s an awesome success because it feels like there’s still more growing for her to do emotionally. But the ultimate success EVER was the gift of the hearthstone to Mama. It was canon lore created on the fly and it was so meaningful and has become a cornerstone of Tamzen’s character.

Letter C:

Smartest- Talise and Syl are the most booksmart; Calla is the wisest about people (followed by Talise and Tamzen); Vi is the smartest about how to use people for her advantage; Mireth is the most diplomatically savvy.Most Attractive- Tamzen is that annoying woman who looks beautiful even without makeup (#blessed) but isn’t necessarily sexy like Talise is. From there it’s Mireth (that half elf/half fae glowup), Calla (aasimar moon baby), Lady Vi (moon elf tall, slim model build), Evi (Italian witchy woman), and then Syl (striking but not always considered beautiful).Hogwarts- Ravenclaws are Talise and Syl. Slytherins are Lady Vi and Evi. Hufflepuffs are Calla and Mireth. Gryffindor is Tamzen.

#fuzzy feathers #@sapphireemeralds #food for asks #ask and you shall receive #dnd #ref for character

3 notes · View notes

pkmn-fangamer · 5 years

Text

Pokémon Solar Light & Lunar Dark Review

Intro:

The game starts in Soltree Town in the players room. The player is sitting in front of his/her TV and is watching a battle between two Pokémon trainers. Your mother comes in and tells you that your best friend, Rodney, is waiting for you downstairs to get your first Pokemon from Prof. Pinewood. You walk to the lab with Rodney and the Professor lets you choose one of three Pokemon. After choosing your starter, Rodney runs out of the lab. The Professor tells you about a young girl named Keira, who is getting the last Pokémon, but it seems that she has forgotten it. After finding Keira in Mossy Town her mother tells you to go back to your house, because your mother has a gift for you. Back in Soltree Town you receive the PokéCom and the Running Shoes from your parents.

From then on, the player will set off on adventures through the Rikoto region. Along the way, the player, Rodney, and Keira will battle eight Gym Leaders, while trying to complete the Pokédex. After managing to obtain all eight Badges, the player will head to the Pokémon League to battle the Elite Four and the Champion.

How to Play:

Download and extract this file to the folder of your choice. If you don’t have a program to unzip files, I recommend Peazip, which is safe and works well. Once extracted, double “Game.exe” to play.

Story:

The story progresses like a main series game’s plot. It’s notably most similar to RSE/ORAS, because there are two evil teams present: Team Solar and Team Lunar. They’re racing to find specific stones to revive and control their respective legendary of interest. Unfortunately, the climax of their role in the story is pretty disappointing to me, but I won’t say any further so not to spoil you. Aside from the villains, you have your usual tree-based professor, a few rivals, and your eight gym leaders. There’s also a mega evolution specialist, who battles in her castle, and is portrayed as unofficial gym leader. I especially liked this detail.

The characters are just okay, and dialogue can be a little jumbled at time. I like that you have three rivals rather than one, but they’re not very well fleshed out. Each has a gimmick, but not much personality past that. The gym leaders were also okay, but not overly memorable. The only honorable mention is Jax of the Elite Four, who I believe should have been the champion of the game.

There are some adult themes present in the story, but I don’t mean this in an explicit sort of way. Rather, the game addresses adult issues you’d find in the real world. For example, to use the taxi service in Rustbolt City, you need to battle their boss to convince him to pay his workers more, as they’re on strike at the time. You are also asked to steal for a robber at one point during a quest, which is pretty neat.

Overall, the plot and characters weren’t too impressive, but they weren’t terrible, either. There was a good foundation for both that was lost along the way, it seems. However, the story and characters are still serviceable and fulfill their overarching role.

Score: 7/10

Pokemon:

In this game, there are Fakemon instead of Pokemon, and this can be seen as either good or a bad. While the sprite work for the Fakemon grew on me, some are heavily based on already existing Pokemon. Also, some Pokemon don’t have the highest design quality. Lastly, many of the better Fakemon don’t evolve until they’re pretty high leveled, anywhere from the high 30s to the low 50s, kind of like in Gen 5. This can be seen either as a good or a bad thing, I suppose.

Luckily, there’s a lot of good things about the Fakemon too. First is the sheer amount of them: there are 358 Fakemon to choose from, which is more original Pokemon than have ever been put into a new game at once. This gives you a huge selection to choose from, so no two people will ever have the same team. The downside of this is it’s hard to keep track of them all. However, there are some great ones to choose from, whose movepools and abilities have been handpicked with care.

The original moves made for this game are also a nice touch. One that stood out to me is Thunder Strike, which is a nice middling electric move that’s more powerful than Thunder Shock, but less powerful than Thunderbolt.

I also absolutely love that your first party Pokemon walks with you. This is a feature that really should be brought back in main series games, and the fact that they took the time to draw all 358 original Fakemon (and each shiny form!) as walking companions is very impressive.

Score: 8/10

Gameplay:

In terms of difficulty, this game is very middling. It’s not too easy or hard. If you battle all the trainers and a good portion of wild Pokemon during your journey, gym leaders won’t be overly difficult. However, grinding in this game can be difficult without the presence of the speed button, so keep this in mind when you use a repel or skipping trainer battles.

One of my favorite attributes in a fan game is a lack of HMs, and I was pleasantly surprised that this game replaced HMs with key items. This opens up a fifth slot in your party; no HM slaves needed!

The gameplay in SLLD (Solar Light & Lunar Dark) is brought to life through its attention to detail in many areas. I’d say you can spend up to two hours in almost every town and its surrounding area, just doing quests, finding hidden items, and talking to NPCs without getting bored. There are so many places to explore, each with a completely different set of Pokemon.

My biggest grip in this area is the length of space between towns. The worst example of this is the journey between Waytide City and Coralite Town. In the space between them, there is Route 9, then Goopool Swamp, then Route 10A, then Rainbow Reef, then Route 10B, then finally Coralite Town. There is one single player to heal your Pokemon in this entire stretch, and if you don’t bring a ton of healing items and repels, there’s no way you’ll make it the whole way continuously. There’s also a ton of trainers on every route, too many in my opinion, and if you don’t battle them all, you’re destined to be underleveled for gym battles.

Score: 8.5/10

Art/Music:

The overworld art is well done, mostly in Gen 5 style. I haven’t seen art like this in another fan game yet, so props for that.

Original music can be found in about 80% of the game, and is generally well-composed. I rarely found myself listening to other music while playing the game. It’s very electronic, and comparable to Gen 5, but I actually like this soundtrack better than the Unova one. This brought me to wonder: why is such a common track, the wild battle music, from Sinnoh when almost all other music is original? This also goes for the Pokemon Center and a few other themes. My best guess is that composing those tracks would have taken a lot of time.

In terms of character art, most of it is solid. However, the female player character is obviously heavily inspired by Lyra from HGSS. The sprite isn’t bad per say, but it is very obvious. On the other hand, the male player character looks very original.

There are a few visual/sound errors that I would fix. First, the selection highlight isn’t apparent enough. This may seem minor, but this can be the difference between winning a battle or losing if you accidentally switch in the wrong Pokemon. Additionally, both the sound for stat rising and falling is the same- it always sounds like your stat is going up. There are also a couple of Pokemon missing their cries when sent into battle.

Score: 8.5/10

Misc:

The fan content for this game is pretty great. There’s a very active discord channel, and a pretty up-to-date, accurate wiki.

Overall:

One stand-out quality of this game is the sheer amount of content it contains. Before I mentioned the amount of Pokemon created, and this goes for the size of the map as well. There are more towns and areas of interest in this game than any individual region, and as a result you can get in a huge amount of playtime. I ended my run-through with almost 30 hours. However, the downside to inserting a massive amount of content into anything can make the issue of quality control. While the quality of most things in this game is above average, some things did suffer a bit. For example, there are so many routes and areas, it probably was impossible to compose music for all of them. As a result, the Surf and Bike theme are both the cheesy Pokemon Essentials themes.

On the topic of glitches: unfortunately, there are a handful of them. Most aren’t game breaking, but the one that stood out to me is the fishing contest one. When you are warped to the fishing contest, you’re trapped inside the building’s roof instead of in front of the building. As a result, you have to open your menu and quit the contest, automatically putting you in last place. Another is in the Subhail Icecaps towards the end of the game. The game can barely handle surfing in this area, and constantly stalls, almost crashing whenever you surf.

Overall, I would recommend this game to almost any Pokemon lover. I’d especially recommend this one for Unova lovers, as this game is a fresh new adventure quite reminiscent of that region. If you’re looking for a traditional Pokemon game with Fakemon in it, this game should be a winner for you.

Final Score: 8.5/10

#pokemon solar light and lunar dark #pokemon #fakemon #pokemon review #review #slldcommentary #slldreview

7 notes · View notes

emma-nation · 6 years

Text

For You - Bloodbound AU (Chapter 1)

Summary: Takes place after Book 1. Before Gaius’ return the gang must face a dangerous new enemy, a powerful vampire hunter who is thirsty for their blood.

Pairings: KamilahxMC

Genre: Angst/Adventure/Romance

Rating: T - Warning for violence and language

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

Author’s Notes:

- English is my second language, please forgive me for any mistakes. - My apologies if Priya sounds too OOC. Writing her was the most difficult part for me.

- Hope you enjoy it, your reviews and likes are always appreciated.

- Updated 04/11/2020: Fixed some spelling mistakes

Amy

The magazine said "when you move in together, you'll get to know your partner deepest secrets". Not for Amy. Still laying in bed, she sighed in frustration. She had been dating Kamilah for three months. At first, they barely saw each other. Kamilah had no time. She missed most of their dates and rarely answered phone calls, until the day Amy decided to end their relationship. Kamilah promised she'd try to work less and asked her to move in to her penthouse, it was the only possible way they could spend more time together. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" Amy asked. "Yes," Kamilah said, "I don't wanna lose you." Two weeks had passed since this decision and Amy still didn't know a thing about the woman sleeping next to her. She needed to be patient. It takes time to build trust. Kamilah was different from everyone else she had dated. But damn, she was definitely worth it. Kamilah was usually the one to wake up first. However, after a difficult night, she was still asleep that morning. The only thing Amy had learned about Kamilah so far was that she struggled with nightmares. Terrifying memories would haunt her in her sleep and she'd often wake up, panting and shaking. She'd never tell Amy what she dreamed about. "I can't remember," she lied everytime. Amy noticed a pattern. Sometimes she'd mutter words in an unknown language and she assumed she was dreaming about her brother, Lysimachus, and her mortal life in the Ancient Egypt. But sometimes she'd say his name. Gaius. And that's when she truly seemed terrorized. Until now Kamilah hadn't told her much about her deceased brother or her maker. Everytime Amy mentioned either of them, Kamilah would look away and get silent, until she changed the subject. She decided to respect her girlfriend's choice. Amy was preparing the breakfast when she felt Kamilah's arms around her. Her touch was protective, but soft. It sent eletric impulses through all her body. "You weren't in bed when I woke up," Kamilah complained. "Good morning to you too, Kamilah." Amy turned around and pressed her lips on her girlfriend's. "Are these pancakes for me?" Kamilah asked, looking at the table where Amy had placed a plate of pancakes. "No, these are mine. Yours are almost ready." Amy placed another plate with a small pile of pancakes in front of her. With strawberry jam, she had drawn a smiley face on them. "Why did you draw a smiley face on my pancakes?" "To make your day happier," Amy joked. "Wait, there's one detail missing." She added fangs to the smiley face. Kamilah rolled her eyes, trying to hide a smile. Amy giggled and sat on the chair next to hers. She observed Kamilah in silence for a minute before clearing her throat. "So..." she took a bite of her breakfast. "You had nightmares again last night." "I did?" Kamilah answered after some hesitation. "Yes and you didn't spoke Egyptian this time. You said his name." "Whose name?" "Gaius." "I can't remember, sorry." Kamilah looked away, avoiding eye contact with Amy. "What happened to Gaius, Kamilah?" Amy insisted. Kamilah didn't answer. "Is Gaius still alive?" "Would you please stop asking about him, Amy?" "Why?!" Amy confronted. "I don't understand why you and Adrian have to be so secretive about your past and... this guy!" When she looked at Kamilah, she was tense. She pushed the plate away, indicating she didn't feel like eating anymore. "I'm sorry," Amy apologized. "I said I wouldn't pressure you and..."

Kamilah closed her eyes and sighed, trying to recompose herself.

"No. I understand you have a lot of questions regarding my past, Amy. I'll tell you everything when the time comes. I promise." Amy smiled and placed her hand on top of hers. "I suck," she thought. Everytime Kamilah seemed to be finally feeling comfortable around her, she did something to ruin it. And there was still another question she wanted to ask. "Kamilah," she announced. "Can I ask you something else?" "Here we go." "You're not going to work until late hours tonight, right?" "I don't think so. Why?" "Lily got some tickets for this concert and I really wanted to go. With you." "Oh." "I know you hate crowded places, loud music... it's okay if you don't want to go, we can go somewhere else." "I'm going with you." "Really?!" Kamilah nodded in agreement.

”Thank you!” Amy sat on her lap and kissed her passionately. She felt Kamilah's hand going under her shirt, her fingers caressing her back. while she softly bit her lower lip. "Oh my god," Amy attempted to pull away, "I'm going to be late for work again." Kamilah held her by the waist, preventing her from getting up. "When are you going to start working for me, huh?" She whispered in Amy's ear. "I'm going to talk to Adrian, just give me a few days. Besides, I don't think it's a good idea... I could distract you." "You wouldn't." "Really?" Amy teased. "Not even if I do this?" She placed another kiss on Kamilah's lips. "Or this?" She kissed the way down to her neck. Kamilah's cell phone started ringing. She extended her hand to grab it. "No," she told Amy, smiling playfully and answering the call. Amy gave her some privacy, from the bedroom she still could hear the conversation. "Adrian, hi..." Kamilah said. "What?! Are you sure?!" Problems in The Council, Amy imagined. Kamilah wouldn't admit it, but she was worried about The Baron trying to get a revenge against her. Sometimes she'd act even a little overprotective. "Okay Adrian," Kamilah finished. "I'll be there tonight." Tonight. Did it mean Kamilah was going to cancel their plans again? "Amy?" Kamilah entered the room. "I'm sorry but..." "That's okay, Kamilah. I heard it." Kamilah sat next to her on bed, noticing her disappointment. "We can go out tomorrow." "Yeah... What was it about anyways?" "Priya requested an emergency meeting tonight." "Who?!" Amy asked suprised. "Knowing her, it's hard to believe it's something serious." "I know, she probably killed someone accidentally again." Amy got up, heading to the bathroom with an upset look on her face. "Maybe she did." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kamilah

The nightmares about Gaius returning were not most frightening part of Kamilah's night, but what came minutes later. After drinking some water, she came back to bed and when she was about to fall asleep, Amy wrapped her arm around her waist and whispered: "I love you." Maybe they were going too fast. Kamilah had no idea how modern relationships worked, she was still trying to figure out. Amy changed her world completely. She had to deal with things she'd never accept for anybody else. Her penthouse was a complete mess, with Amy's clothes and belongings spread everywhere. She also had to deal with video game nights with Lily and Amy long showers. She found a solution for the second issue, if Amy was taking too long all she had to do was to join her. The showers would get even longer but... enjoyable. Kamilah smiled. She had no right to complain. Amy tolerated her usual negativity and her busy schedule. She accepted her decision of not talking about her past and the fact they couldn't go out in the sunlight. Above anything, she was willing do anything to make Kamilah happy. Love demands hope and a letting go of the self. Amy's feelings were true but, were they mutual? Kamilah had never felt something so intense before. She wondered if that was how love really felt like. She wasn't sure yet. She looked at the clock. It was almost time for the Council meeting. When she arrived at Raines Corporation she ran her eyes across the empty lobby, looking for signs of Amy. She wanted to apologize for not being able to attend the concert but she was already gone. "Looking for your human pet?" The Baron spoke, before entering Adrian's conference room. Kamilah scowled at him. "I'd like to see if she'd act so tough without you or Adrian around." "If you dare to touch her I'm going to kill you in the most painful way I can think of." "Maybe you should put her on a leash then," he laughed sarcastically. Kamilah clenched her fists and her eyes turned red. "Ignore it," Adrian appeared by her side. "He's only trying to get into you." "Bastard." Before the meeting started Kamilah texted Amy, asking her to return her calls as soon as possible. Priya was the last one to arrive. Poorly dressed, she had bags under her eyes and a scarf around her neck, intended to hide something. The other Council members exchanged glances, looking for an answer. "Shall we start?" Kamilah asked. Priya nodded in confirmation. "You requested an emergency meeting, so I assume it's important." "Indeed," Priya removed the scarf around her neck to reveal a bite mark. "Take a look at this!" "Please, explain," Kamilah ordered, not taking her seriously. "There was this VIP event in Amsterdam and mama thought she had found a new boy toy for her collection... He was compelling, sexy, delicious... different from all the others. Oh and he was kinky! Very kinky!" "Do we really need to hear that?" Jax complained. "Proceed," Lester demanded. "We need details." Kamilah gave him a look of disapproval. "It was all going well... and hot..." Priya continued. "Until he sank his fangs into my neck!" "Okay, he was a vampire too," Adrian concluded. Kamilah rolled her eyes. "He drained my blood. Twice! Then he tortured me in so many different ways and..." "So you requested an emergency meeting to talk about some kinky vampire?" Kamilah interrogated, ironically. "He's a vampire hunter, Kamilah!" Priya shouted. "He kills vampires after feeding from them." "Well, you're still alive." "Yes, he let me live but... we kinda made a deal. This is why I requested this meeting." "What was the deal?" "He wanted to know Gaius' whereabouts." "Don't tell me you..." Kamilah said. "He was going to kill me!" "Do you have any idea of what you did?! You've put all our lives..." Adrian placed a hand on Kamilah's shoulder, trying to calm her down. "I'll check the sarcophagus. Maybe this vampire hunter is not even in New York yet." "He also said he's coming after all of us," Priya added. "I didn't give him your names but..." "Let him come," The Baron punched the table. "I'm going to get out here. I have something else to do..." He looked straight at Kamilah, with a devilish smirk on his face. "It has been three days and this bite hasn't healed," Priya cried. "I think I'm turning into a feral." "Let me check," Kamilah approached her. The bite looked nasty, in fact. She pricked her finger tip and pressed her blood against the wound. For some reason, it started to look worse. "What are you doing?!" Priya screamed. "Stop! Stop! It burns." "What?!" Kamilah shared a concerned look with Adrian, who came closer to examine the mark. "I haven't seen anything like this before," he said. "Priya, come to Raines Laboratories tomorrow to have this injury checked." After ending the meeting, Kamilah tried to call Amy again. It went straight to her voicemail. "Go after her," Adrian suggested. "I can go to the library myself." "Are you sure?" Adrian nodded nervously. "If you need me..." "I know," he smiled to Kamilah in response. "Do you think she was serious?" Jax asked outside Adrian's building. "Maybe," Kamilah answered. "But I've deal with Vampire Hunters before, pup. There's nothing to worry about." "Are you sure? Because you look worried. Is it about Gaius?" "No, I'm worried about Amy." "I heard The Baron's threats. Do you know where she is?" "She was supposed to be at some concert tonight. But she's not answering my calls." "I think I know where it is, I'll give you the directions." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Amy

Amy was at the concert but her mind was somewhere else. She wouldn't stop thinking about Kamilah and how much she wanted her to be there. She couldn't force herself to enjoy the music, all she wanted was to have her girlfriend around and assure her she was okay with her late night meetings. She needed to apologize for being so selfish earlier. She reached for her phone inside her pocket, there was a lot of texts and missed calls from Kamilah. Something serious must have happened at the meeting. She had a bad feeling about that. "Lily? I'm going outside," Amy told. "What?" Lily asked, barely listening. "Kamilah is calling me." "Come on, Amy. Can't you just enjoy a night with your best friend?" "It must be important." Outside, Amy tried to call Kamilah back but her phone had no signal. "Please..." she insisted, attempting to dial once more. "Come on..." She was typing a text when she heard a male voice. A handsome black-haired man was coming in her direction. "Kate!" The male hugged her. "Were you waiting for me, baby?" Amy widened her eyes in surprise. "First, I'm not Kate," Amy whispered in his ear. "Second, take your hands off me right now or I'm going to scream." "That would be a shame, girl. Because you'd attract the attention of those two thugs across the street. They were coming for you, while you were too distracted texting your boyfriend." "Oh," Amy turned her head. She easily recognized the men from The Shrike. They worked for The Baron. She needed to take a better look to tell Kamilah later. Reluctantly, she hugged the male figure back. As soon as her hands touched him, her head started to spin. She felt she was being pulled into one of those visions. She was about to see a small part of his past when... "What are you doing?" She could hear his voice, inside her mind. "Get back." She opened her eyes and pulled away from him. "W-what..." He smirked. "So, do you recognize those men?" "Yeah, they work for The Baron," Amy answered, still lightheaded from the vision, without realizing what she had just said. "Who's The Baron?" "Uhhh... no one. I'm just..." She started to walk away. "Okay. Go back inside," he said. "You'll be safe." "Wait... What's your..." When Amy turned around he had vanished. "Weird." Inside the concert venue, she dragged Lily to the bar and told her everything that had happened. "Do you think he was a vampire?" "I don't know. He definitely wasn't human." "And he was handsome?" "Handsome and well-dressed." "Kamilah will be so happy when she finds out some hot guy saved you..." "Lily! I could've died." They both laughed. Amy looked nervously at her cellphone screen, waiting for signal. From the stage, the band singer announced: "The next song is dedicated to Ms..." he unfolded a small piece of paper, "Amy Parker." "Wait. It's you!" Lily exclaimed. "Who do you think..." Amy opened a broad smile and before she had any time to answer, she noticed Kamilah was standing behind her. She ran straight to her arms and kissed her deeply. "I was so worried about you, Kamilah. I tried to call you so many times... oh my god, you have no idea of what just happened..." "Slow down, little firefly," Kamilah smiled. "One thing at once." "Let's go home, I..." "I thought you wanted to enjoy the concert. Together." "Sure, it can wait." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ??????

"Dinner is served," he thought while observing the two vampires outside the concert venue. They were alone. That was the perfect opportunity to strike. But then, he noticed... a girl across the street. The vampire thugs were focused on her, they made comments about the things they intend to do with her... He clenched his fists in pure anger.

Despite not having any humanity left inside him, he felt an urge to protect her. He didn't hate mortals. Vampires were the intruders in their world, and therefore, the only race that should be exterminated.

After she was back to the venue, he had a feast. He could have shown those men the worst side of him. What they had planned for the girl, he could do so much worse. But he wasn't in the mood that night, something in New York City brought him a feeling of nostalgia and sorrow. He simply fed and cut their heads off with his sharp, glistening daggers. At the concert he was finally able to socialize. Play his best role of newly turned vampire, lost in the Big City. He met another male vampire who was willing to offer all the support he needed. "Of couse, man. Come with me to the Shadow Den, I'm pretty sure Jax will accept you as part of Clan Matsuo." He grinned. "This is about to get really interesting."

#playchoices #choices stories you play #bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #adrian raines #lily spencer #priya lacroix #bloodbound fanfiction #choices fanfiction

111 notes · View notes

guitypleasure052016 · 6 years

Text

Take Me Home Part 4

This is part 4 to “Take Me Home”. Part 1 can be found here. Part 2 can be found here. Part 3 can be found here. Gifs are not mine. Any flashbacks will be italicized.

Chibs wanted to carry you all the way into the clubhouse but you refused, insisting on walking yourself. You slowly lowered yourself from the seat of the car. You were trying to be tough but damn you were hurting. It killed Chibs not to lift you up and carry you into the clubhouse but he knew that would only upset you so he watched and tried not to wince each time you did. You both breathed a sigh of relief when your feet finally touched the ground. He quickly walked over to you, placed his hand on your back, and helped guide you into the clubhouse. Your senses were quickly overwhelmed as you tried to take in everything about this place that Filip considered to be his home. There was a mixture of smells including beer, weed, tobacco, sweat, and other strange scents that you did not want to identify. You could hear music playing in the background, it was one of your favorite Guns N’ Roses songs. The place was filled to the brim with people, so thankfully your entrance didn’t draw a lot of attention except from the bikers who you had met the previous day. A total of seven guys walked towards the both of you and Chibs introduced you. You tried to memorize their names as best as you could. First there was the blonde president named Jax. You recognized the curly-haired man with the kind smile named Tig. Filip often talked about Tig so you were sure they were close. The next person Chibs introduced as Juicy Boy, the young man with the head tattoos from the day before. He laughed and insisted you just call him Juice. The next man was introduced as Happy although he looked anything but. The fifth son was called Opie. You don’t think you had ever seen a man who was so tall and who had hair even longer than you. The sixth man to be introduced referred to himself as Bobby. He seemed to be the oldest of the group and had a fatherly vibe. The seventh and final man in the group introduced himself as Kozik. You smiled and introduced yourself to the men, thanking them for their hospitality. As kind as they were being, you knew they were curious about you and your situation and rightfully so.

“Listen guys, I know I have a lot to tell you but if I could just take a shower real quick, then I’ll tell you whatever you need to know”, you proposed. The men all nodded in agreement.

“We got you clothes to change into from one one the girls. Just a t-shirt, sweats, socks, and a pair of sneakers. Figured it’d be comfier than those hospital clothes they gave you to wear. We left them in Chib’s room.”, Jax offered with a smile. You smiled back and thanked him. Chibs thanked his brothers as well. You saw him whisper something to Juice, who then ran off with a grin on his face. Filip then turned to you, placed his hand on the small of your back, and guided you back to his dorm room. You entered the room and smiled, it fit him perfectly. It was relatively bare. There were simple navy sheets on the bed, a dresser with clothes piled on top, a trash can filled with used cigarettes and beer bottles, and a small chair in the corner of the room that looked like it had been picked up at a yard sale. The only personalized part of the room was the small picture on his bedside table. It was a picture of his daughter Kerianne when she was still a young girl, probably two or three years old. Chibs closed the door behind him, and dropped your bags in the middle of the bed. You walked over to the dresser and picked up the pile of clothes and inspected them. There was a black pair of tight Victoria’s Secret sweatpants, an extra small samcro t-shirt, a pair of light blue ankle socks, and plain black sneakers. You were extra thankful to find a simple pair of underwear and a bra at the bottom of the pile, both with the tags still attached.

“I’m assuming these are for me”, you asked Filip. He walked over to see what was in your hands.

He picked up the bra and laughed, “No lass, I’m totally wearing bras now, it’s the newest biker style”. You rolled your eyes and took the bra back from him.

“All right smart ass, show me to the shower. I need to wash all this grime off of me”, you commanded.

“Right this way m’lady”, Chibs responded and showed you across the room to the small bathroom. He showed you where to find the body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. He grabbed a washcloth and a towel from the cabinet, placing them on the sink.

“I’ll be right out here in the room love, figure I’d give you some privacy” he stated. Chibs left the room, shutting the door, and leaving you alone for the first time in the past 24 hours. It made sense that he didn’t insist on staying with you because there was no window in the bathroom, no risk of you running out. As much as Filip wanted you to stay with him, you knew that this had to be a short-term situation. There were people counting on you to protect them and you were not about to let them down. However, you could admit that it would probably be best if you stayed in Charming for a day or two. As much as you tried to fight it, your body was killing you, and you needed to be at your best if you were going to complete your mission. You would plan that out later, but while you took a shower, you needed to figure out how much of the truth you were going to tell Chibs and the Samcro boys without giving too much away.

Chibs was sitting outside in the bedroom while (Y/N) was cleaning herself off in the shower.

He was going to get your bag of clothing and put it through the wash when he heard your voice calling him from the bathroom, “Filip, a little help in here please”. He quickly jumped up and ran into the bathroom, chuckling at the sight before him. You had tried taking off your shirt but it was wrapped around your head and you seemed to be stuck. He walked into the room and gingerly helped you pull your shirt off the top of your head.

“I’m sorry Filip but I seem to be having trouble, between the broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder, it’s rather difficult doing much of anything, especially undressing apparently”, you informed him apologetically.

“Don’t know what you’re apologizing for love, I love taking your clothes off”, he replied with a wink. He carefully helped you step out of your pants until you were standing in front of him, completely nude. He looked away and you suddenly felt self-conscious.

“I know, I know my body is nothing like it used to be. You must think I look disgusting after these years. I don’t look anything like those girls out there”, you confessed, your voice cracking. Filip suddenly looked shocked and quickly pulled you close to his body. He wrapped his left arm around your waist, and with his right hand he caressed your face, peppering you with kisses first on your forehead, then your nose, then both your cheeks and then finally a soft kiss on your lips.

“Don’t say that love, it’s the furthest thing from the truth. You’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t stand it. I just hate seeing you so banged up. I want to kill the prick who did this to you”, he replied. You could feel the anger radiating off of him with that last sentence and he pulled you closer to him, almost as if the closer you were, the more he could protect you.

“Well I still need to take a shower, Filip, you want to help me? As much as I’m trying to tough it out, I’m really hurting and it would probably be helpful to have someone wash my back”, you proposed.

“Not a problem darlin’, but I think a bath might be a better idea, you know our track record with showers”, he teased.

“Oh darn it, you figured out my plan”, you giggled, pouting. Chibs winked and then stepped around you, he turned on the water in the bathtub and reached his hand out, helping you step into the tub and sit down. You leaned against the back of the tub and tried to relax. The warm water felt incredible on your sore body and you sat for a minute relishing the feeling. Chibs grabbed the washcloth from the sink, rolled up his sleeves, and sat on the ground next to the tub. He grabbed his body wash and squeezed a small amount onto the washcloth. Next, he began washing your body, strong enough to get rid of the dried blood and grime, but gentle enough not to cause you any pain.

“I hate to break it to you lovey but you’re going to be smelling like me by the end of this. I’ve been getting the same stuff since I was a lad”, Chibs joked.

“Smelling like my sexy man, I don’t see a problem with that”, you replied with a smile. Filip laughed and continued washing your body. He had been avoiding your torso as most of the damage from the attack was visible there, but there was no avoiding it. He slowly began to wash your midsection, taking note that along with the injuries from the recent attack, your body was littered with numerous painful looking scars. He knew the kind of life you lived and how dangerous your line of work was. However knowing it was one thing, but seeing the pain you’ve been put through and the damage done was entirely different and much more painful. One specific mark caught his attention, he lightly placed his finger on one end and traced it across your stomach.

“This is new”, he whispered, his voice laced with pain. You were really hoping he wouldn’t notice that. You reached up and grabbed onto his beard with one hand while running your other hand through his hair.

“And so is all this gray old man”, you teased. He laughed and leaned forward, giving you a peck on the nose.

“Now hands off lass”, he ordered, “I need to wash that hair of yours and check for any grays”.

You gasped and grabbed his beard again, this time giving it a firm tug, warning him, “You better watch it Mr. Telford or you’ll be the one getting punished”. He groaned in appreciation and licked his lips. It wasn’t often that you took charge but oh how he loved it when you did.

However one look at your injured body brought him back to reality and he shook his head, chastising you, “You’re trying to distract me, love. What’s with that scar. That’s not normal business wear and tear. C’mon you know we don’t keep secrets from each other”.

“I know Filip, but things have gotten much more complicated since the last time we saw one another”, you sighed and looked away from him so you didn’t meet his eyes. You hated lying to him, but you couldn’t tell him, not just yet. Chibs sighed, dropping the washcloth in the tub. He picked up your hand in his and pressed it against his lips. Before he had a chance to question you further, there was a quick knock at the door.

“What the hell is it”, Chibs shouted.

“Sorry man, just wanted to see if you guys were almost ready, the guys are getting antsy out there”, you heard the man named Juice ask.

“We’ll be out in a minute. I just have to get dressed”, you called back, eager to drop this conversation.

Less than ten minutes later, you were dried off and dressed in the clothes that were left for you. It felt amazing to be clean and dressed in comfortable clothing, but you were still pretty sore and not looking forward to this meeting that you were about to attend. Chibs had thrown on a dry shirt after helping you get dressed and then opened the door to the hallway. You stopped in your tracks because your path was blocked by a chair.

“What the hell is this doing here”, you asked Chibs. He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the argument that was about to ensue.

“Well love”, he started, “The doctor said partial bed rest and you’ve already been walking around too much for my liking. We don’t have a wheelchair here so I had Juicy boy bring in the chair from the office because it’s on wheels. It’s the best I can do on short notice”. You wanted to argue with him that you could walk perfectly fine but after seeing the look on his face, you decided he’d been through enough that day.

“For once in my life, I’m not going to argue. Thank you for taking such good care of me Filip”, you responded, laying it on a little thick, but it seemed to relax him. You sat down on the chair, raising your feet a little off of the floor, and allowed him to push you down the hallway. When the two of you entered the main room, you suddenly felt self-conscious and ridiculous. You began to blush and tried to cover your face. At the same time, Chib’s friend Tig walked up and clapped a hand on his back and updated him on the status of the lockdown. You made a mental note to ask about that later. When Tig leaned down to greet you, he saw your bright red face filled with embarrassment.

“Don’t worry doll”, he reassured you, “Nobody will say anything to you and if they do, Chibs and I will show them the door”. You laughed and thanked him before he ran off to open the door of a large room that Chibs rolled you into. You recognized the familiar faces of the men you had met earlier along with a few others who quickly introduced themselves. Jax suddenly took charge of the meeting, you assumed because he was the president. He explained that normally non-club members were not allowed in this room, what they called Chapel, but due to the fact that the information you were going to share was sensitive, they made an exception for you. You nodded your head, feeling shy and anxious at the same time. You had no idea how or where to start. Chibs noticed you had suddenly clammed up and started to talk for you. He told his brothers the story of how the two of you had met and the summer you had spent together. At the end of that part of the story, Chibs turned to you, clearly, he wanted you to be the one to tell about your family and their business, as he didn’t feel that it was his place. He squeezed your hand and nodded at you. You took a deep breath, looked around at the expectant faces and began.

You had been born and raised in a small podunk town in Oregon. You were an only child and were thankful for that. Your father was a drunk, and a mean one at that. Your only memories of him from your childhood was him trudging home from the local bar and then your mother quickly shooing you away to play with the neighbors. Your mother, the complete opposite, was a kind wonderful woman who you adored. You didn’t have a lot of money coming in as your father couldn’t hold down a job so your mom spent her days pinching pennies, turning leftovers into casseroles and making them last for days. She also made all of your clothing. The kids at school would make fun of you but you took pride in what you wore, knowing it was hand stitched with your mother’s love. Things changed drastically when your father was arrested for driving under the influence. He was given a six-month sentence. Even though those sixth months were difficulty financially, they were the happiest six months of your young life. You could see a difference in your mother who had picked up a job bagging groceries at the local market and started seeing her friends again. You dreaded the day your father returned home from jail, but sadly six months later, you returned home from school to find him sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand, screaming at your mother. You wanted to run away and never come back but you couldn’t leave your mother there, you would not abandon her. The two of you hunkered down and endured. Your mom took the brunt of his anger which had only seemed to increase since he returned home from prison. He also found himself a new friend group of angry scary looking men. You never got a chance to meet them as your mother would always quickly shoo you away whenever they came over. She always insisted that you stay in your room and not come out under any circumstances. You were wary of your mother’s warnings but listened to her, as she seemed genuinely frightened for you to be around them. It was about 3 years later, that your mother first became sick. Initially, they thought it was just a bad flu, and then possibly Lyme disease when it was still present 3 weeks later, but nothing had prepared you for the devastating diagnosis of Parkinson’s Disease. Here you were at 13 years old, being told that not only was your mother going to die, but she was going to waste away slowly and painfully. Another devastating blow was when you found out the enormous cost of medical treatment. Due to the fact that your drunken father couldn’t hold down a job for more than a couple of weeks, he never qualified for insurance, meaning you would have to pay for everything out of pocket. You knew there was no way that could happen, you could barely make ends meet as it was, let alone pay thousands of dollars for experimental treatments. You jaw almost hit the floor when your father pulled out a wad of cash and asked how much they would need, handing them six thousand dollars in cash. When you got home, after setting your mother up in bed, your father sat you down at the kitchen table and told you it was time for you to know about the family business. He explained that while in prison, he had gotten close with a group of drug dealers. During a prison riot, your father had helped one of them escape from a potential stabbing, and to thank him, the group decided to bring him into their folds. They weren’t an organized gang or anything, just a group of men who decided that manufacturing and selling drugs was the easiest and most profitable form of employment. Your father and another man in the crew named Jerry were the only two that had short-term sentences so when they were released, they became the men on the outside. Your father didn’t want you involved in the business right now but he informed you that once you started high school, you would have to step up and help out. You protested, saying that you would never get involved in drugs but before you could finish your argument, your father reached across the table and slapped you, hard. It was the first time your father had ever laid hands on you and it was terrifying.

Tears quickly welled up in your eyes and you held your stinging cheek while he screamed at you, “Who the hell do you think you are? You’re acting like a damn spoiled little brat. What you’re too good to sell drugs with me and my boys? Well, you listen and listen good you spoiled little bitch, the money from these drugs is the only thing keeping your mother alive. If you expect me to be able to pay all this expensive medical shit, then you’re going to do as you’re told”.

That was the day your entire life changed. Your father didn’t make a point to hide his drug activities from you anymore, and had you helping him with deliveries before your 15th birthday. It was Jerry’s idea actually, he proposed that nobody would pay attention to a young girl with her backpack. You hated doing it. You hated being around the drugs and you hated meeting with the people who were buying them. It got especially bad when your father and Jerry got into the meth business. Their customers were out of their minds, and you started carrying around a pocket knife with you for protection. Not only was the new clientele even more extreme, the production was much more difficult and dangerous. Your father sent you to the local community college to get a Chemistry degree to help gain more information on how to safely set up shop, however that wasn’t enough. After a particularly bad explosion, you convinced your father to allow you to go to graduate school to gain more knowledge on chemistry. He wanted you to go to a local school but after doing research, you found that one of the best schools in the nation was in upstate New York. After weeks of convincing, your father finally agreed to allow you to go. So you packed up your bags, packed your car, and drove across the country. You had gotten internships during the summer which allowed you to stay in New York and away from the drugs. You had one of your neighbors checking in on your mother, and updating you on her condition, making sure your father kept his promise to care for her while you were gone. After graduation all of your friends were shocked that you were moving back to Oregon, but you informed them you had to find a job there to take care of your sick mom. You hadn’t told any of them about your family business. Your plan was to head home and set up a safe cook shop and then focus on caring for your mother. That all changed when you and Chibs met along the road. You had made it a point not to start any romantic relationships as you needed to focus on getting home to take care of your mother but you couldn’t resist the handsome Scot. You didn’t disclose the details of your family business until the final days of your road trip. He had proposed coming to visit you in Oregon at some point and you had to decline him. This turned into an argument because he could tell you were lying to him. You eventually broke down and told him about being trapped in your family business in order to help take care of your mom. You were relieved when he not only didn’t judge you but shared that he had his own complicated family situation. You were heartbroken for him, and he for you. You held off your departure for 2 days, trying to figure out what to do. As much as you wanted to stay together, you knew for the time being you had to go your separate ways. You informed him that twice a year, you traveled to Nevada to make some big deliveries to clients. You agreed that you would contact him from a burner phone and you would meet along the road, spending the weekend together before you both went on your way. You always told your father you were stopping through Vegas on the way home to sell the extra product to the visiting partygoers. Those few days a year that you were with Chibs was what kept you going and refreshed you while also breaking your heart each time. The two of you relished each rare moment you spent together and you fell more and more in love over the years with each meeting, but at the same time you became more enmeshed in your lives back home, especially you with your mother’s health declining even more. That’s when you met Jason and your life changed again.

Jason was an electrician who came out to work on your home one day. The company he worked for was closed when you called, but when you told him you had a sick mother, he made an exception and came out to work on your home, quickly fixing the problem. Your mother insisted that he come over for dinner next week as a thank you but you’re pretty sure she noticed he was attractive and kind and wanted to set you up. You and Jason started seeing each other casually, as you were not into long-term relationships, but eventually, he convinced you and you started going steady. Within the year he had proposed and much to your own surprise you agreed. You still saw Filip on your yearly visits, and eventually, you told him about your impending wedding. He suggested that you should stop seeing one another since you were getting married but at the end of the day, neither of you could actually leave the other and agreed to meet again in six months. Your wedding day came and went. You told yourself that this was the way things were meant to be and you were happy, at least for the first few months. Your father and your husband began growing closer and at first, you were relieved, until he started to bring Jason around Jerry and the rest of their crew. Your husband didn’t know much about the family business, and you didn’t want him involved. He was the one part of your life in Oregon that was free from that shit but you knew better than to cross your father. The further into the business he got, the more dangerous he and his “friends” became. Your father and Jerry slowly brought Jason into the business bit by bit and once Jason got a taste of the money involved, he quit his electrician job and joined your father and Jerry full time. The sweet simple man you married slowly turned into a totally different person. He turned into the same man as your father, carrying more about the drugs and the money than anything else. You found your life mirroring your mother’s, keeping your head down while dealing with an angry husband, dedicating your entire life to taking care of a helpless family member. She would take care of you when you were younger, and now with her health declining more and more with each passing day, it was your turn to take care of her. You had a steady flow of money coming in from the drug business, enough to pay for any treatment your mother needed but she had stopped responding to treatment and eventually succumbed to the illness. You were absolutely devastated, heartbroken wasn’t even close to describing the pain you felt. You looked for comfort from your husband and even your father but both ignored your agony, instead focusing on growing their drug trade. You couldn’t believe how heartless they were being. You told them you needed to clear your mind and take off on the road for a while but they both told you no. You were to stay in Oregon and monitor the cook shops. You agreed, but secretly made plans to get away. Caring for your mother was the reason you had stayed in Oregon in the first place and now that she was gone, there was nothing holding you there. Sure you and Jason were technically married, but you hadn’t acted like husband and wife for years now. The meth and the money had changed him into a man that you didn’t love or even like anymore. He often came home drunk, if he came home at all. He slept around with anyone who fell for his charm and especially some of the female clients, trading sex for drugs. He had never struck you like your father had, but you were sure it wasn’t far off at this point. Not only were you disgusted with the man, but you had grown to be afraid of him. He was unpredictable and it wasn’t safe to be with him anymore. You quietly took care of your affairs, and then took off down the road one night.

You took a deep breath, a little overwhelmed by all of the information you had just shared with men you had only met the day before. You felt Filip squeezing your hand, he hadn’t known about your mom’s passing. He knew how much your mother meant to you and his heart broke for you. He also didn’t know about the change in Jason, as you had stopped coming around about 3 years back. That’s one of the reasons that he was so shocked when he saw you in the hospital bed. He wondered if the change in Jason was the reason you had stopped coming around. He made a mental note to ask you about that later.

Tig spoke up first, “Shit doll, you were right, things are definitely complicated. But how did you end up in that hospital and who attacked you? You conveniently left that part out”. You felt your anxiety begin to rise. Ever since you had regained your memory, you had intentionally blocked out that memory, knowing it would be horrific to think back on. Chibs wrapped his arm around you, attempting to calm you and make you feel safe.

“Listen (Y/N), I know that you’re scared”, Jax chimed in, “But you’re Chib’s girl. That makes you part of the Samcro family and every man in this room would die to protect this family. You are safe”. You looked around the table at the expectant faces, nodded your head, and told them the story of your attack.

You had been driving for two weeks. You made a couple stops in different places but nowhere seemed like a good long-term solution. You don’t know why you made the decision, but you decided to drive towards Charming, California. Maybe Chibs could help you figure out a long-term plan, somewhere to go, to be safe. You thought you had been staying off the radar and decided to stop at a gas station outside of town to fill up your car, grab a coffee, and a snack. When you walked back to your car, you nearly passed out, shocked at the familiar smug man leaning against your vehicle. It was your dad’s partner Jerry. You were petrified. He had a sinister look on his face.

“Give me the keys, now (Y/N)”, he ordered. You handed him the keys. He directed you to get in the car and he drove away from the gas station. You were nearly hyperventilating, terrified at what he was going to do to you. After about ten minutes of driving, he pulled off on an empty dirt road.

“Get out of the fucking car, now”, he demanded while pulling out a gun and pointing it at you. You cried, and got out of the car, not seeing that you were parked next to a hill, you tripped and fell down the incline. Jerry laughed and was quickly standing over your fallen body. He kicked you in the ribs, more times than you could count. You cried out in pain and tried to crawl away but he continued dragging you back.

“You stupid little whore”, he bellowed, “Do you think I’m stupid. Your idiotic dad and husband may believe your Las Vegas lie but I know where you go twice a year. After dropping off the supply, you meet up that biker and act like a damn slut for the whole weekend. I’m sure he has a record and cops following him. What if they caught you with our supply. I’ve put in too much work to this business for you to fuck it all up just so you can see your boyfriend”.

“You don’t know anything”, you shouted. Jerry replied by slapping you, hard. He grabbed you shirt and yanked you close to him.

You could smell the stench of booze on his breath and he threatened you, “Now listen you little bitch, I’m gonna give you a good beating. Teach you a damned lesson for acting like such a fucking idiot. If you die, then you die and you deserve to for fucking this shit up. But if you survive, then you find your way back to Oregon and do what you’re told, unless you want other people to start getting hurt too”.

“No, don’t you dare”, you cried out. You didn’t have time to protest much longer as he continued to beat you to a bloody pulp. The only saving grace was that you passed out not long into the beating, so you didn’t have to suffer through that experience for too long. The next thing you remembered was waking up in the ER.

You exhaled, feeling as if you had been holding your breath the entire time. After a moment you looked up first at Chibs and then the rest of the men around the table.

Each man had the look of murder in their eyes and surprisingly it was the one they called Happy who broke the silence first simply stating, “That’s it, we’re killing the guy”. The other guys grunted and slapped the table in agreement. You looked up at Filip again, who had not moved a muscle, only tightening his grip on you. You reached up with your good arm and stroked his cheek which brought his attention back to you.

“I’m going to fucking kill him”, Chibs informed you, without a hint of uncertainty in his voice. He meant what he said. He was going to kill this Jerry and make him feel all the pain, if not more than he had inflicted on you, the woman he loved.

“It’s not that simple guys”, you interrupted the men, “there are more people involved and I’m not going to have others get hurt on my account”.

“Well do they have an official crew”, Kozik asked, “as in should we be on the look out for a group of guys coming here for you”. This was an important question and suddenly all eyes in the room were on you again.

“No they don’t have an official crew”, you responded, “The regular guys are familiar with the cooking so they stay back in Oregon to keep the product moving. While they may not have regular guys who can travel, they’ve got a shit ton of money and desperate people at their disposal. It’s not safe for me anywhere”. You felt yourself begin to choke up at the end, and Filip gave you a quick peck on the forehead. Before the meeting continued, there was a knock on the door. Bobby groaned but stood up from his chair, walking over to the door and talking with a younger man, wearing a kutte with the words “prospect” emblazoned across the back. He handed him a note and then ran off.

Bobby shut the door, returned to the table with the note, and read it out loud, “Hello (Y/N), I tried to come see you at the hospital but they told me you’d been discharged. Since you’ve decided to shack up with your boyfriend like the biker slut you are, I’ve called Jason who will be joining me here in Charming within the next few days. We will be seeing both of you very soon. Signed Jerry”. The room quickly erupted in conversation with all of the men trying to come up with a plan of how to take these bastards down, and prevent them from hurting you. While everyone else debated, you remained silent because you had picked up on something in the letter. He had specifically said “both of you”. The men at the table clearly believed he was talking about you and Chibs when he said “both of you” but you knew better. That means he thought you were not traveling alone, which means your preparations before you left had been successful. He hadn’t found them and if you could keep him focused and angry at you, then maybe, just maybe you all still had a chance.

Part 5

Click Here To See My Masterlist!

Click Here If You Want To Be On A Tag List!

#sons of anarchy #soa edit #soa imagines #soa imagine #soa #chibs telford #chibs imagine #chibs telford x reader #chibs x reader #chibs #guitypleasure052016 #take me home

190 notes · View notes

sophiainspace · 6 years

Text

The Centre Cannot Hold

Oh, and also I wrote a thing...

Legends of Tomorrow fic. My first full-length story in a very long time. (*wibble*)

This happened because I got angry about people not writing autistic-coded characters as overtly autistic. And if you want a thing done, do it yourself. (My thinking went in the direction of one of the more difficult autistic experiences, this time, which I hope no one minds too much.)

Summary: Ray sometimes wishes he could be… different. The team don’t see things that way. A Ray Palmer character study. (1746 words.) Rating: G Content warning: Autistic shutdown.

Thanks so much to @latebarryallen and @airyalmost for beta reading!

Read at AO3

Ray loves fixing things.

He loves working through a problem until it has a solution. Starting with a broken piece, and shaping and reshaping, turning and turning. Until it once again fits into a functioning machine, efficient and beautiful.

Making things make sense.

- - -

Ray is in his lab by 7 that morning. He’s just thinking about going to look for coffee or breakfast when Jax arrives.

“Hey, Jax,” he says, looking up from where he’s sitting at his workstation. “And what do you have for me this fine morning?”

“Vortex manipulator refusing to work,” Jax says, handing it over. “This thing is so vital to the time drive that it shouldn’t even be outside the engine room, but it’s a bit more of the electronics than I usually go in for. Tell me it makes some sense to you? ‘Cause we can’t jump without it, and I’m pretty sure Sara’s going to remove all my teeth one by one if we have to delay this mission any more.”

“Ouch,” Ray replies, but Jax is already starting to sound distant. Ray is turning, turning the little beeping-flashing piece of machinery in his hands. It’s an electronic cog made to fit futuristic clockwork. It’s perfect and mysterious and it nearly, but not quite, makes sense. “Yeah, I think I’ve got this,” he says slowly.

Jax adds something about what time he needs it by, and he’s gone.

“Sure, Jax,” Ray replies to the empty room.

- - -

The time drive component turns out to be a challenge. An exciting one, but still. Ray hasn’t put down his tools all morning.

It’s just when he’s sunk deepest into his process that the noise starts up.

He ignores it. “OK, little dude, we are almost there. Now let’s see what you do if I do this…”

The noise comes back into focus. Most of the team seems to be out in the corridor, arguing about something, voices rising fast towards yelling pitch. He feels his face twist and reaches for his noise-cancelling headphones. The noise dulls to a murmur, and he moves his focus back to his workbench.

A few minutes later, he becomes vaguely aware of exasperation at the door. He takes the headphones off. “Ray,” Sara says. “We need to leave. Jax is making noises about you not being finished yet with something he needs?”

He forces his eyes away from the component on the workbench, and up at her. “Sorry, Sara. I’m almost there. Ten minutes.”

“Five minutes! Or your bones can rattle around the lab while we jump,” she calls back from the corridor.

“Not without that time drive part, they can’t,” Jax shouts after her, replacing her in the doorway. “Where is it, Ray? I’ve got a ship to jump out of here.”

He glances up. “Sorry, Jax - it’s coming. Just a few minutes. I just have to set the clock here and close the…“ He trails off.

“OK. Thanks.” Jax leans against the door frame, tapping out an anxious rhythm against the metal wall.

Ray feels himself tense up. He keeps working, though, carefully turning tiny screws into the casing. This can’t be rushed. He just needs a little longer.

Jax keeps tapping.

The noise starts to drum in Ray’s head.

“Ray?”

“Yes, it’s coming!” he barks. He looks up at a surprised Jax and forces a smile. “Sorry, man, didn’t mean that. Nearly there.”

Sara’s head appears around the door again. “Ray, I swear to God. We need to leave—”

Jax pushes off the wall. “Good luck going anywhere before he’s finished with the time drive, Sara. Unless maybe you want to fly around the temporal zone in little circles like a—”

Ray tries to tune them out. He can’t understand why the screws aren’t going into place, until he realises his hands are shaking. The guys are still going at it.

“—fuck’s sake. Could you not have got him to sort this out an hour ago?”

“Hey! I told you we might need till the afternoon. You just went on about the urgency of the situation.”

“Which apparently you paid no—”

And just like that, everything stops making sense.

Ray drops the screwdriver. It lands with a ding, the shock sounding out across the lab.

The next thing he knows, he’s curled up on the floor.

He’s vaguely aware of some commotion above him. Then Zari’s voice, distant and echoey, and when did she get here? “Everyone out. Give him a minute.”

Then it’s quiet, and he almost sobs with relief.

And Zari’s crouching next to him on the floor.

Shit.

He hasn’t had one of these in a while, he thinks, indistinctly. He can feel himself breathing, hard but shallow. He thinks maybe he’s shaking.

Fantastic timing, Ray, part of him thinks. The rest of him doesn’t care.

- - -

Zari sits with him on the floor of the lab, for an hour. This is a bit unexpected.

She brings them tea but he doesn’t drink his. He just wraps his hands around the mug, tapping out repeating sequences against the handle.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asks at some point.

“No,” he says, after a moment.

She’s quiet for a while. Then she says, “My brother was like you.”

Ray listens.

“I mean — not that much like you.” She’s drawing patterns on the floor. “Less focused, more… chaotic. He had these meltdowns sometimes. It could get pretty scary.” She pauses. “I think it was scarier for him though.”

He takes a long breath in. “It gets a bit much, now and then.”

“Yeah?” she says. Carefully. Like he’s broken.

“Yeah. Sometimes too many things build up and I shut down.” He looks at his hands, eyes wide. “It’s like… my CPU overloads.”

She hums. “I’m sorry if we all got a bit loud. Well, I’m sorry if I did. The other assholes can apologise for themselves.”

“It’s fine,” he says, trying to mean it.

Zari raises an eyebrow cynically.

He makes a little amused noise. “Fine, it’s not fine. But it’s not their fault. I’m not good at explaining it. They don’t — they don’t all know.”

“Hmm. Your younger self seemed happy to tell me.”

“That was then,” he shrugs. He’s staring at the ceiling. “Mom wasn’t keen on how often I told people. She said they’d think less of me. I mostly stopped, eventually.”

I just wish Ray would make normal friends, you know?

Zari sits back on her heels. “That’s an interesting thing to say about your kid.”

He snorts. “Yeah.”

“Still. You work pretty closely with this bunch of losers. And I know they care about you.” She drops the sincere tone and rolls her eyes. “They have many feelings.”

He grins a bit at that, then pauses. “I don’t want them to treat me like I’m…” He shrugs. Tries to keep his hands still. Turning, turning. “It’s hard sometimes,” he admits. “You know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

He looks at her, which he thinks is probably progress for the past hour. “I want to do better. I want to be better.”

She frowns. “Ray. You don’t need to change. You don’t have to be anyone but you.”

Huh.

“You don’t,” she repeats. “We like you the way you are. You got that, doofus?”

He smiles. “I’ll try. Thanks, Zari.” Then he remembers. “Oh! We were supposed to be leaving.” He moves to get up, and she stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Don’t worry about that. I got them to wait. It’ll keep till later or tomorrow.”

“You made Sara abort a mission and she didn’t kill you? Is this a power that comes with your amulet, or…?”

“The captain just needs a little handling sometimes.” She winks.

“I’m not going to try to work out if that’s meant to be a double entendre. I tend to miss those.” He gestures at himself and grins. “You know. Autistic.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “You feel like braving the galley? I picked up some great hot chocolate when we were in 1998.”

“Thanks, but I still need to finish the time drive repairs. It’s nearly done.”

“Jax’ll wait.”

“Oh, it’s not that. I just don’t like to leave a job unfinished.”

She glares at him. “And how long since you last ate anything, hmm?”

“Oh. Um.”

“Right then.” She gets up, decisively. “I am bringing the hot chocolate to you. And lunch.”

He ponders. “I feel like someone’s going to complain about food in the lab, but I can’t think exactly who. And it might be Gideon. Who has automatic cleaning units. So. Sure!”

She smiles and offers him her hand.

He takes it.

- - -

It’s not until hours later that Ray goes to the bridge. (He hasn’t really been hiding. Not really.) He stops at the entrance to the study, which is currently holding half of the Waverider crew.

“It’s— no, look— oh just give it to me,” Mick grumbles, grabbing the nineteenth-century lamp out of Nate’s hand (he yelps). “The oil goes here, right?” He sits the lamp in front of him, filling it gently. As he does, he catches Ray’s eye. “Hey, Haircut, you’ll like this. You like old stuff, right?”

“Well, Nate’s more of the history guy,” he says, maybe just a bit too brightly. “But - OK!” He steps up to the study. Passing Jax, he hands him the formerly broken component. “One working vortex manipulator, Chief Engineer, sir.” It almost comes out as casually as he intended.

Jax smiles. “Thanks, Ray.”

Sara gets up to get a drink, and bumps his shoulder as she does. “You. Me. Very supportive, very captain-like conversation. Later,” she whispers. “After at least—“ she inspects her glass “—a couple more drinks.”

“OK,” he laughs.

From the other side of the room, Zari grins at him, a cupcake halfway to her mouth. She looks at it. “Oh. Not gluten free. Sorry! But don’t worry, I’ll eat yours.”

“I appreciate that! I think.” He settles back in a chair, half-listening to laughter and snide comments against the background of a rapidly devolving discussion on antique fire safety.

Some things can’t be made to fit together like cogs in a machine, he thinks, a little sadly. Some things can’t be fixed. But as he looks around the strange group, misfits and Legends and friends, he wonders whether they need to be.

Against the bright glimmer of the timestream, the ship is turning, turning, and journeying on.

#legends of tomorrow #fanfic #ray palmer #autistic character #zari tomaz #jax jackson #sara lance #the legends aren't having the best day but they don't mean it #food cw #autistic shutdown cw #my fic

58 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 6 years

Text

Countless Roads - Chapter 26

Fic: Countless Roads - Chapter 26 - Ao3

Fandom: Flash, Legends Pairing: Gen, Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, others

Summary: Due to a family curse (which some call a gift), Leonard Snart has more life than he knows what to do with – and that gives him the ability to see, speak to, and even share with the various ghosts that are always surrounding him.

Sure, said curse also means he’s going to die sooner rather than later, just like his mother, but in the meantime Len has no intention of letting superheroes, time travelers, a surprisingly charming pyromaniac, and a lot of ghosts get in the way of him having a nice, successful career as a professional thief.

——————————��————————————————

"This is worse than cars," Mick grumbles. He looks ill.

It takes a really special something to give a ghost an upset stomach.

The Waverider is precisely that special something, apparently.

Time travel sucks.

Somehow, that detail never really seemed to get that much attention in any of the sci-fi films Len watched.

They arrive in the 1970s, which is a little disappointing - all of history, and they go to a time within Len's living memory, if admittedly just barely? - and deal with some side-effects like numbness or linguistic confusion (another overlooked detail). Hunter announces their target for the moment – some professor who supposedly will have information to lead them to the bad guy they're hunting – and then promptly ditches Len, Mick, and Sara.

“This mission doesn’t require your particular skill set,” Hunter says, then, thinking better of it, adds an ominous, “Yet.”

“Meaning you don’t need anyone killed, maimed or robbed,” Len says, unimpressed.

“Precisely,” Hunter sniffs.

“Sure it’s a good idea to leave these two unsupervised on a time machine?” the tall guy asks.

“Hey, haircut,” Mick snaps. “Deafness wasn’t one of the side effects.”

“We need to hurry,” Hunter says. “Professor Boardman will die in less than 24 hours.”

“Why cut it so close?” Carter asks.

“Because if he's destined to die, then he doesn't have a timeline for us to disrupt, and whatever impact our involvement now will have on the future will be minimal,” Hunter explains. “You see, time wants to happen – that’s what makes our fight against Savage so difficult. This man’s death occurs, and will likely still occur, regardless of any interaction we have with him.”

“Brilliant, if somewhat depressing,” Stein comments. “Jefferson, are you coming?”

"I'm not going anywhere," Jax says, still looking queasy from the flight. "Grey, next time we take off? Roofie me first."

"I would never," Stein says, but he's beaming. "I can scarcely believe it – we're in 1975 once more!"

"Maybe they're faking it," Len suggests. "Like the moon landing."

"The moon landing wasn't faked, Mr. Snart," Hunter says officiously, even as Stein and Jax are rolling their eyes. It's an in-joke to the time someone suggested as much to Caitlin and she spent the next three days in 'someone is wrong on the internet and I need to tell them in excruciating detail why' mode, which naturally meant that everything fake in Central City from American cheese to teenage pop singer vocals was now immediately compared to the moon landing. It wasn’t a comment meant for Hunter, something the man chooses to ignore entirely – if he’d even noticed. He seems rather self-involved. Len wishes that the time ship wasn't ghost-repellant - he'd love to find out more about Hunter, and where better than from his ghosts? "Now, shall we be on our way?"

They leave. Len promptly starts to snoop around the time ship, while Mick finds the television. "Oh," he says wryly. "Reruns."

Len rolls his eyes. For someone who lived through parts of the ‘70s more or less glued to the TV after they constructed the juvie, Mick really has no room to complain.

"Am I the only one on this ship who could really use a drink?” Sara asks after a few minutes, still looking slightly confused by how she keeps drifting over to stand by Len. “I say we go get weird in the '70s.”

"Snart's the freakiest thing here," Mick says. "But I'm game for a drink."

“Excellent idea,” Len says. Beats sitting around on a shelf until Hunter decides to use them, that’s for sure.

"Yeeeah, I'm not legal yet," Jax says.

"Live on the wild side, kid," Sara tells him. "No one's gonna card you."

Behind her back, Len mimes making a telephone call, then draws a finger across his throat. He’s met Jenna. He knows better. She'll find out, somehow.

"My mom will literally teleport through time and space to find me in the act," Jax says, confirming Len’s suspicions. "And then rip my head off. No, thanks. I’m only a few months from legal anyway."

"Your loss."

Len's a bit wary heading out into the past on his own, with only Mick at his side, but everything seems fine – he can hear the ghosts, same as always, buzzing about, and the first unquiet dead that starts sidling over takes one look at Mick and splits. Just like old times.

Besides, turns out the ‘70s isn't really all that different from what Len recalls the ‘80s to be.

Len and Mick follow Sara to a bar, which she finds with the instincts of a drunk sorority girl – which is to say, within ten minutes and with stunning accuracy at finding incredibly cheap alcohol.

"Dollar beers," Mick says approvingly. “You gotta love the ‘70s.” Then he spots a jukebox and his eyes light up.

Len braces himself.

“Who wants to listen to some Captain and Tennille?” Mick asks innocently. “I heard it played when I grew up. A lot.”

Len glares. That had been a very specific period in his life, damnit.

Pity jukeboxes never have any good ‘30s music to torment Mick with.

"Hey, Leonard," Sara says. "Wanna dance?"

"You go right ahead," he says, waving a hand. “I'll watch.”

It's as good an excuse as any to stare at the holes in her, for lack of a better term. The medium that brought her back did a good job – it's definitely her body, that much is evident from the slick and confident way she moves – but whatever technique brought her back to life didn't make for a perfect match between body and soul.

He wonders what she uses to fill those gaps. Bloodshed or sex are the most likely, though food or attention could do it for some. He doubts it for her, though. Some combination, perhaps?

It occurs to him that failed – or partially-failed – medium resurrections could very well be the original source of the vampire myth.

It's an interesting line of thought, sadly interrupted by the bar fight Sara promptly gets into.

She can definitely hold her own, though. Badass. Len approves.

"Now," she says, studying the gang approaching her, "I could do with a hand."

Len takes the polite gesture – she most certainly does not need a hand, not against this few, based on how easily she was disposing of the first few – in the spirit in which it's meant, and he nods, jumping into the fray with Mick by his side.

They're still laughing about it when Len's Cisco-provided comm – currently in his pocket – buzzes.

Len pulls it out, mildly impressed that it still works.

"What's that?" Sara asks.

"Comm link from 2016," Len says. "Jax, that you?"

"Could you guys come back?" Jax asks, aiming for casual and sounding a bit shaken. "We, uh, the Waverider, that is, kinda sorta appear to be under attack."

"Great," Mick says. "I'll pop a car."

As always, Mick drives like a maniac who was born when horses were still more popular a mode of transportation and they were still debating the benefit of regularized speed limits, but Sara seems to enjoy it. Len just holds onto his seatbelt for dear life.

They get there just in time to hit one of the three armored figures, not unlike gussied up storm troopers, attacking the Waverider with what appear to be pulse rifles, not to mention Stein, Rip, the two others and what's probably the professor they went off to investigate.

"We go out for one lousy drink and you guys decided to re-enact Attack of the Clones?" Len drawls as he steps out of the car and charges up his gun. "For shame."

The troopers have very good armor, good enough to resist Len's cold gun, but Len's used to being at a disadvantage, and they aren't expecting him to ice the ground under their feet so that they slip.

And, of course, no one, armor or not, likes to be downstream of Mick's heat gun.

Stein makes it to the ship, grabbing Jax and forming Firestorm, and with his help, they're able to cover their retreat into the ship.

"I think we could've taken 'em," Mick growls as they take off.

"In some cases, Mr. Rory, retreat is the wiser course," Hunter says, and takes them off into something he calls the temporal zone.

He's kinda condescending, but whatever.

More important is figuring out why, exactly, soldiers which were obviously from the future are hunting them down.

Hunter has an answer to that, too, but it's not one the heroes on board like.

Turns out they're not Legends. They're nobodies.

And this mission? Totally unauthorized.

Illegal, in fact.

The storm troopers work for Rip Hunter’s old bosses, who turn out are really pissed about Hunter grabbing his ship and running off to go meddle with the timeline against their express instructions.

Mick shoots Len an amused look, which Len returns. Neither of them really put much stock in something being illegal, for obvious reasons, and Len never really did care about his rep outlasting him. Hell, he's just glad he's still alive for the moment – there’s that family history clock ticking down, after all, closer and closer.

Besides, they’re not on this ship to make names for themselves. They're here to have fun.

"Bet you a quarter they pick 'Legends' as a team name," Mick says when they settle down to repair their guns.

"God, no. That'd be dumb."

"You good for it, then?"

"...nah. It's dumb, but it's just these guys' speed of dumb."

Mick snorts in agreement.

"Still feel like we're going the right way?" Len asks.

"Yeah. Definitely."

"Good to know. No ghosts around us here in the time stream –” It’s oddly quiet, which Len doesn’t like since it reminds him of what happened with his dad, even though this quiet feels a lot more natural than that did. More like travelling from the city to the country, a reduced noise level instead of a total muting. It’s still an uncomfortable reminder, but Len’ll be damned if he stops doing anything because of that bastard. “– but the ghosts in the past feel the same."

"Some of them probably are the same, boss. The 70s weren't that long ago."

"Says Mr. Great Depression."

"Please. Mr. Dust Bowl's more precise."

"Either way, old man."

Mick grins, teeth glinting in the low light. "Hope I die before I get old. Oh, wait now..."

Len chuckles.

Rather unsurprisingly, the heroes decide to stay on with the missions. It's Mr. Perky Scientist – Ray Palmer – who first suggests calling themselves Legends.

Len's glad he didn't take that sucker's bet.

And then, for lack of any better ideas, they go to a nuke auction to find Savage.

"There's a lot of restless spirits here," Len comments to Mick as they head into the auction.

"Wouldn't have pegged you for the religious sort, Leonard," Sara says, coming up behind him.

"I'm not," Len says. "I only celebrate two holidays for real – New Years and Atonement Day, and all that's in between."

Her nose wrinkles. She's probably wondering what weird sect of Christian he is, which is of course wrong - people always assume Christian sect before they assume Judaism, which is really just quite sad. It's not important now, though; he'll just correct her later.

To be fair, he is in some weird sect - while everyone Jewish agrees that Atonement Day's the most important day of the year, it's usually Passover after that, but for his family, it's New Year's, and they observe the rest of the holidays more perfunctorily than they probably ought to as good Jews. But New Years and Atonement Day: his mother pressed those two into his head. The New Year, when you start the year afresh, and Atonement Day, the day when all wrongs have the chance to be forgiven if you ask for them from their rightful bearer. Wrongs against your fellow man, from your fellow man. Wrongs against God, from God. The day of the breaking of oaths; the day of confession; the day of the future.

The day God marks down your fate, closing the book of life and the book of death for another year. The book of life, the book of death, the book in-between, and the black book. Len’s family’s own personal mythology.

Len wonders, idly, how Sara's own religion fared when faced with the proof of her death and resurrection.

"It gonna be a problem?" Mick asks, ignoring Sara. He can see the ghosts too. Most ghosts don’t follow people around, not loved ones, not hated ones, nobody; they just drift, often around where they died, sometimes checking in on loved ones but rarely having enough life of their own to actively follow someone. These are not most ghosts. No, these ghosts are of the rarest sort - neither unquiet nor friendly. They are savage. Feral. They can focus on nothing but the men they follow, their killers, and they are distracted by nothing, not even Len with all his life.

Ghosts of revenge. They gather only around the cruelest of mass-murderers, and they’re here in flocks.

Len would not want to be one of the men in this crowd when they finally die, their spirit separating from their body only to be welcomed by the hands of their waiting victims.

"No," he says. "Let's go."

He lifts an invite, but it's Stein's bluffing that gets them in.

It's also Stein's blunder that gets them caught, but hey, you win some, you lose some.

Savage himself is unprepossessing from a physical standpoint, but he feels wrong, too, the way Carter and Kendra do. If they're partially empty containers, like parts of their lives are somewhere else, then he's some sort of a sieve.

His life is cycling like some sort of self-contained waterfall, which Len doesn't even know what that means; he's never seen it before. That must be what Rip Hunter meant by 'immortal'.

From what Len gleaned from the conversations on board, he's using Kendra and Carter as sources to feed his own life.

A bit like Cabrera wanted, with Len's power.

Fucking mediums. Len goes a whole lifetime without them, and now he can't seem to be rid of them.

Mick ends up setting shit on fire and they fight back-to-back, the same way as always, heat gun and cold gun. Firestorm leaps into action, Ray Palmer (Len can't bring himself to call him 'Palmer', he really can't) pulls out a shrinking super-suit, Sara unleashes some ninja moves with some batons, Kendra and Carter sprout hawk-wings – even Hunter pulls out some dinky futuristic six-shooter that goes with lasers.

Not too shabby, even though Hunter yells at them later.

Of course, the yelling not entirely without a purpose: Ray apparently screwed up the timeline by leaving some future tech lying around, which means that Sara leads team go-and-find-it while Len and Mick volunteer for team get-the-magic-dagger-that-will-kill-Savage, which cannot actually be dumber than it sounds but very well might be. It's apparently hidden at some rich Russian's house; should be a nice easy in-and-out snatch job.

Ray insists on going with them.

"He's gonna screw everything up," Mick complains as they walk up to the Russian's house.

"Probably," Len agrees. "No respect for expertise, this ship; making us thieve and babysit."

"You know I'm right here and can hear you, right?" Ray says indignantly.

"We know," Len says. "The question I have for you is: do you think we care?"

Mick snorts.

Ray scowls for a moment, but just as Len thinks they might be digging in past the endless bright optimism into some real personality, his expression clears. "Hey, I know that!"

Len tries to snatch him back, but can't stop him from running straight up to the dummy box.

He groans.

"These people suck," Mick grumbles.

"Fuck it," Len says, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Go get him out. I'm sending a ghost in first."

He hates to do it, especially for thieving – it feels too much like cheating. But it's not fair to be trying to rob a place with a six-foot-something idiotic impediment dragging him down, either.

"You do that." Mick gets up, shaking his head, and goes to ambush the guards confronting Ray.

While Mick entertains himself with that, Len tilts his head back. "Anyone here wanna help?"

Three ghosts pop up almost immediately.

Two women, a guy, all in their twenties.

"Guy in here do for you?" Len asks, jerking his thumb towards the house.

"I got in where I shouldn't," the guy says with a shrug. "I was a housecleaner. My name is Sergey."

"Not for Maureen and me. We just crashed our car," one of the women says.

“Trish!” Maureen exclaims.

"What? It’s true! Anyway, no relation to the guy who owns the place now. This was our old house, though, for a bit."

"Good enough. Anyway: I'm looking for this dagger, Egyptian..."

A few minutes later, Mick finally drags Ray back. Literally drags, with Ray trying unsuccessfully to dig his heels into the ground, which explains what took them so long.

"I said I'm sorry," Ray hisses. "There’s no need to pull me around! But anyway, it's not all bad. We got the guards, right?"

"We?" Mick echoes incredulously. “We got ‘em?”

"Okay, fine, you got them. But I lured them in! That means we can go in and grab the dagger – "

"The guards not doing their rounds will set off alarms," Len says patiently. "As will the actual alarms that the dummy box set off. No. This is a bad job; I don't like doing heists without casing the joint in advance on a good day, and this job is clearly already snake-bit bad luck. No go."

Mick nods his agreement, but Ray puffs up like an angry toad. "Are you kidding? All that about you being thieves extraordinaire, and you just give up at the first sign of trouble?"

"Part of the reason I am a thief extraordinaire, in fact," Len says dryly. "And not, you know, in prison all the time."

"If we don't get the dagger, we won't be able to stop Savage!"

"I never said we wouldn't be getting the dagger," Len says. "I said we wouldn't be going inside to get it."

Ray blinks. "I think I'm lost," he says. "How do you get the dagger without, uh, getting the dagger?"

"Note the pronouns."

"What?"

"He won't be going to get the dagger," Mick rumbles. "Doesn't mean someone won't."

Right on cue, the bushes rustle and Sergey shows up, Trish and Maureen right on his heels. "I have it," Sergey says, beaming and holding out the dagger. He's shining with the life that Len gave him, strength flowing through his limbs. He is justly pleased: the life means he will be able to say his goodbyes to his wife and to tip off the police as to the location of his body, thus ensuring he will receive adequate burial according to the precepts of his religion, which is the thing he desires most.

Then he'll pass on, satisfied. Now that's what Len calls a good deal.

Trish and Maureen are pouting that they weren't the ones to get it first, but they do offer up some pretty necklaces as consolation. They want the life Len gave them to go spook their friends, which Len thinks is a perfectly acceptable reason, if slightly less mature than Sergey’s. Then again, they’re college girls; as Len well knows, they can be more or less serious in nature and these two are clearly fans of the 'less'. "Good, good," Len says, examining them. "That's great, girls."

"You got patsies to do for you?!" Ray exclaims, only for Mick to loudly shush him. He does lower his voice, but still looks indignant. "It's too risky to go yourself, so you send someone else, is that it?"

"While I prefer to do these things myself – basically, yes," Len says. "And it worked, didn't it?"

"And you got the girls to steal for you, too! Ugh, I can't believe you. What happens when they go back in there? Or if he finds out they took them? What'll he do to them?"

"Nothing worse than a car crash," Len says.

"What?"

"Just...never mind. We got the dagger, we got a stash, let's go before the Ruskie who owns them gets home."

Of course, thanks to Ray's earlier fuck up with the dummy box, that doesn't happen. Instead, a positive army of personal bodyguards sweeps into the place, encircling –

"Savage," Mick says. "This must be his house. Of course he'd have the dagger."

"This guy is everywhere," Len grumbles. "How'd he even make it here from the auction so fast?"

"Private jet. Baddies always have 'em," Mick says.

"Hey, I used to have one," Ray says.

"Evil corporatist, huh?" Mick replies. "Knew you weren't that sweet, Haircut."

"Evil –? Wait, no, I didn't – I wasn't -"

"Shut up before my opinion of you drops further."

Len is peering through the bushes. "I think we're gonna need an exit strategy."

"Can't we just call the Waverider?" Ray asks, reaching for his comm link.

"Or we could sneak out and then call them," Len says, snatching his hand. "Thereby not alerting Savage to the fact that it was us lifting the thing and thus maintaining the element of surprise. We'll need a distraction. Mick, burn the house."

"With pleasure."

"That's destruction of property," Ray says, sounding mildly appalled.

Len has so much he could be saying about that, but he settles for "Yeah, Savage's property."

That wipes Ray’s objections away. Len barely keeps from rolling his eyes – Ray clearly subscribes to the 'if it's good, it's good; if it's bad, it's bad' theory of the world, in which arson isn't arson if the guy suffering it is a murderer. Idiot idealists are incredibly dangerous, because they'll smile like puppies before, during, and after murdering you for society's good, because the fact that they're 'heroes' in their own minds makes it okay.

Len makes a mental note not to rely on Ray for anything beyond technical expertise.

He waits until the fire gets big enough to draw attention, then heads out, hissing for Ray to follow. They get back out over the fence by bashing the two guards left to watch the exit over the head, and a bit of scrabbling. Luckily, Ray is pretty tall, which helps them get over the fence - maybe Len was too quick to judge him good for nothing.

"What about Mick?" Ray asks anxiously. "We can't just leave him to Savage."

Len mentally revises his opinion of Ray up a very, very small notch. At least he understands the idea of standing by your team. That counts for a lot, with Len.

"What about Mick?" Mick asks, stepping out of the brush behind Ray.

Ray yelps in surprise, then turns and hugs Mick before Mick can get away.

Len snorts at Mick's horrified expression.

"We have the dagger," he says. "Let's go to a safe zone and call for a lift."

Once they're back on the Waverider, it turns out Team Suit also succeeded in their mission, so history is back on track.

"This dagger is what we'll use to kill Savage," Carter says, picking it up. "We should go immediately."

"He's in his own house surrounded by bodyguards," Len drawls. "How about you keep it in your pants and pick a better ambushing spot? Or do you just really enjoy failure?"

Carter bristles. "I've fought this man for two hundred and eight lifetimes --"

"And see what you've done with it," Len replies. "Dead, dead, dead, and – if I had to guess – dead."

"We defeated him in Central City less than eight months ago!"

"Well, that clearly didn't take," Mick says, slouching further in his chair. "Have you considered letting the lady try?"

Kendra blinks. "Me?"

"Sure, why not? Since your boy-toy here has a string of failures a mile long, you can't possibly do any worse."

She flushes a bit. "I – I mean – I've never killed anybody?"

"Well, from what I gather from bird-brain here, neither has he," Len says.

Carter tries to throw a punch. It's laughably telegraphed.

Len ducks out of the way, knocks his legs out from under him, and kicks him over and steps on his chest. The entire process takes maybe ten seconds.

"Carter!" Kendra exclaims, but she sounds mostly amused.

"If he's on his back, his wings are useless," Len tells her, using his weight to pin Carter. "Have either of you considered, I don't know, practicing a bit?"

"I am the prince of countless armies – " Carter splutters, his face red. "I have lived centuries and fought in more battles than you can even imagine – "

"Sure, in other lifetimes," Len says. "How about this one? You ever do anything other than work out at the gym? You've got no instincts or muscle memory at all from what I can tell."

"Mr. Snart, get off of Mr. Hall this instant," Hunter snaps, sweeping in through the door, jacket fluttering behind him. It looks practiced.

"He wasn't hurting him," Ray objects, which wins him an approving look from Mick.

An idiot, clearly, but a loyal one. That counts for something in their book.

Fine, maybe Ray isn't all bad.

"Regardless, I will not be having such behavior on my ship," Hunter says. "It's unprofessional."

Len steps off. "Thought you said we were the worst team you've ever worked with. And that you were a fugitive from your former bosses. I don't see why that makes you an expert on what's 'professional'."

"Says the thief, Mr. Snart?" Rip shoots back, as if that's a complete answer.

"Yeah," Len says, starting to get annoyed. "A thief, and proud of it. A thief who you recruited, knowing who I am and what I do. If you think I signed up for this mission to be your ace in the hole when you need a pair of light fingers, only to be ridiculed and judged for those same skills the rest of the time, think again."

"Yeah, that shit's got to stop," Sara says from the doorway. "When I agreed to stay, it was so that I could prove myself a hero. Not to be your – or anybody else's – pet killer."

Hunter looks chagrined, but not in the sort of way where he realizes he's been a jackass; instead it's in the sort of way where someone calls you on exactly what you've been planning and makes it sound so bad you realize you're going to have to actually adjust your plans to deal with the objection.

Len doesn’t like it. He’s never minded working with criminals, but he objects to working with rats that treat their crews like pawns to be used or thrown away without so much as a thought to them as actual human beings.

Rip Hunter, it appears, is just that kind of rat.

(A/N: This chapter features Len's thoughts and opinions about the Legends, not necessarily accurate descriptions of them. His opinion of people will grown and change as things go forward.)

#dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #sara lance #ray palmer #rip hunter #Jefferson Jax Jackson #martin stein #Kendra saunders #carter hall #my fic #deadfic

15 notes · View notes

kalinara · 6 years

Note

Top 10 Ships that include Rip

Sorry it took me so long to answer this one! I’m not really a ‘shipper by nature, so it was surprisingly difficult to think of ten. But here we go:

Rip/Gideon - “Time Ship” - I like Time Ship a lot. Especially now that the show has gone out of its way to address at least some of the ethical concerns I had with regard to Gideon’s capacity to consent. (Gideon helping Sara remove Rip’s command codes in Return of the Mack is a pretty clear indication that she could have done so at any time previously.) It’s not a pairing that I ever really expect the show to follow up, to be honest. They barely remember Gideon’s a character at all. As evidenced by the way that Gideon and Rip never got a goodbye in Aruba, and Gideon’s never got to clearly express ANY kind of opinion regarding the Time Bureau or Rip’s actions. (It’s not as cute as calling Ava a bitch, I guess.)

My favorite version of the pairing involves Gideon remaining an AI rather than miraculously obtaining a human body. As an aroace person, I am very drawn to relationships that are strictly cerebral in nature.

Rip/Jonah - “Time Hex”- Time Hex is my other OTP in this fandom. I like it because I feel like Rip is one of those characters that’s so heavy with baggage that he would benefit from a romance that is separate from all those issues. (Jonah too, based on what I remember from his comic book.)

As a pairing, they remind me of Duncan and Amanda from Highlander, a reference that dates me considerably. Duncan is the main character, a stand up dude who has a pretty stable life when he’s not getting attacked by rival immortals or getting involved with helping his friends. Amanda is a friend of his who is a thief, constantly involved in low level, or sometimes high level, mischief. She pops into his life occasionally bringing chaos in her wake. They love each other dearly, though they’re definitely not suited to romantic monogamy with one another. They would never be happy trying to live one another’s life. But that doesn’t mean they won’t have some fun sex and romance assuming that they’re both unattached when they meet up.

That’s generally how I see Rip and Jonah. Rip is the Amanda of the pairing.

Rip/Sara - “Time Canary” - I was big into Time Canary for a while, and I admit, I would probably still enjoy it if the show took that route. Though I do think that there are a lot of issues, from both of them, that would need to be addressed.

Their dynamic, platonic or otherwise, is one of the main draws of the show for me. Rip’s respect for Sara is very satisfying. And I still get wrapped up in his unconditional support of her in Blood Ties, when she’s dealing with her bloodlust, or Left Behind, whenever I rewatch. Likewise, I love to see her call him out in episodes like Star City 2046 and River of Time. He needs that.

Rip/Ray - “AtomicTime”?? - It’s always made me sad that Rip and Ray don’t get paired that often, because I’ve always thought that their dynamic was sweet. Ray was one of the first people that Rip confided in and seemed to respect. And Ray was always good at being emotionally supportive. That scene in Leviathan when he gets Rip to talk about his family is lovely. And for all that Rip tends to get exasperated at the whole team, he seems to have more patience toward Ray’s enthusiasm than a lot of other quirks.

Also, both characters have lived with a lot of loss, and I tend to think Rip admires Ray for being unfailingly upright and positive despite that.

Also the size difference is hot.

Rip/Kendra - Does this have a ship name? - This is a dynamic that I always wished was explored more, considering how their storyline and losses were constantly paralleled in season 1. They didn’t have a lot of direct interaction, but what they did have was unfailingly positive. (His focus on getting Carter’s body back for her, his pairing her and Sara to help them deal with respective issues, the way that she will actually tease him a little, particularly in Last Refuge…) Sadly I feel like Kendra’s role in the main quest got sidelined by romantic drama a bit too much, but I still really like their dynamic.

Rip/Jax - TimeStorm! - I might be the only one who ships this. But I think their dynamic is fascinating, especially in season 2. We saw a lot of interesting development with their relationship, despite the fact that Rip was only in a few episodes as himself. But somehow those interactions really speak to me. Rip is the one who named Jax chief engineer to begin with, giving him a way to contribute that’s completely separate from being Firestorm, and I think Jax really valued that. The Jax and Rip interaction in Turncoat was amazing and painful, and I think it’s significant that of all the characters, Jax is the one who had the most face to face contact with the man that Eobard created. And the jellybean scene is still very sweet. Pun somewhat intended.

I still wish the show had done more with the fact that Rip and Jax were the two youngest of the men, and considerably more mature/focused than Ray or Nate. I would have liked to see that explored more, especially once Rip was no longer isolated by his Captaincy.

Rip/Mick - Did this one ever get a name? Hunterwave? or Rip/Snart -??? - I admit, I’m not much of a Rogues fan now, but a few betrayals ago, I was really interested in the way that the show set these three characters up as parallels.

Rip, like Snart, had a criminal past. Interestingly, at around the same age too. At five years old, Snart was helping his father crimes. At five years old, Rip was stealing on the streets to survive. Like Snart and Mick, Rip comes from a background that is clearly abusive, both before and with the Time Masters. (The Orphanage was nice, sure, but look at what happened in Marooned, or well, the series as a whole.)

Last Refuge added a whole fascinating level to the conflicts between the characters, by showing us that Rip sees his past, and his similarity to the Rogues as something to be ashamed of and overcome.

And of course, there are newer parallels between Chronos and Evil!Rip, as both characters have been violated and transformed by their enemies. There are the things that Mick learned as Chronos that allow him a greater understanding of certain aspects of Time Travel, which we saw explored a little toward the end of season 1. I would have loved to see the show deal with this more. (with regard to fanfic, @darkestsight has a few lovely Mick and Rip vignettes, and Mick has a fairly prominent role in both of my fanfics as well. You can be the judge as to how well I write him.)

On a ship level, I think either pairing has some interesting perspective. Mick seems to be at his best when he’s protecting someone more vulnerable, and there’s that edge of conflict that makes it a bit interesting. Snart is clearly attracted to enigmas and puzzles, and Rip’s squirrelly nature would make him interesting in that respect (see Last Refuge.) I’m not sure either pairing would end well.

Rip/Savage or Rip/Eobard - my darkships. Feel free to mock me for my rampant hypocrisy. I’ve blogged about both of these before. It’s the obsession I find fascinating, the way both villains are so incredibly focused on defeating Rip. Savage is more brutal, but also more dramatic: even before he knew Rip was a time traveler, he’d kept his pen and set him up as the Satan figure of his cult. Eobard is colder, more personally corruptive: taking a specific glee in transforming Rip into a tool, and then displaying him as a trophy.

In both cases, the villains are concerned with other goals and heroes more than they are with Rip of course. I won’t pretend that he’s as important to them as Kendra or Barry respectively. But it’s still a darkly interesting dynamic.

Bonus:

Rip/The Crew as one giant OT9/10/whatever - At my heart, I still pretty much believe that Rip is lowkey in love with his entire former team. Possibly his Bureau as well. I don’t think he expects anything to ever come of it, but I am positive that he’s composed drunken sonnets to them all on really bad nights. Gideon has the footage.

If it ever did get to a physical stage, like in a giant ship orgy, I fully expect them all to mock him endlessly with “Oh, look, the British are coming.”

#rip hunter #legends of tomorrow #Anonymous

18 notes · View notes

thejenesaisquoigirl · 4 years

Text

DnD Ask Meme- Talise

Link to original, blank meme: https://thejenesaisquoigirl.tumblr.com/post/186529464305/dnd-asks More about my tiefling swashbuckler under the cut~!

1) What would they consider to be their biggest failure?

Oof. Maybe not being able to save her family, or at least her sister-in-law and nephew. Maybe her (former) deep reliance on alcohol once her memories started coming back. Trauma is a motherfucker

2) What’s the story behind their name?

When I first went to grad school visit days at my current institution two years ago, there was another person interviewing with a name that sounded similar. Really loved it and added on LaPearl for her alias’ last name (for her eyes). Her birth name is my Warden from Dragon Age Origins (Hozanna Cousland, only more french) since the backstory shares a lot of similarities.

3) What’s their relationship with their family?

When she was Hosanna, very close. They all loved learning (though maybe different things), the people in their city, and each other. She was closest to her brother, Yanis, despite their age difference. She felt adrift after losing them and finding Yanis has upset any equilibrium she was finding.

4) What’s one song that describes them or is them?

The cover of Rise that Superfruit did on their channel

5) Who is their best friend?

Yanis was her best friend growing up; the years after losing him were rough but she was working towards a place of resignation...then they found him alive. As Talise, it’s super weird because yes, her brother used to be able to embarrass her in her previous life; but now, it’s the first time she’s ever felt shame. Hosanna, while sharing a small flair for the dramatic, was a very different person than Talise was crafted to be. But in the party, Jax is the closest to a best friend.

6) Why are they their class?

She was reincarnated by a coast druid, and it was only natural to join a crew due to not remembering her past right away. Her previous skill with dueling with a rapier mixed with her familiarity with locks led to her embellishing her new self into the type of sailor one would find in a storybook.

7) What do they think of their party members?

She feels distinct lines in the sand amongst the party. At first, said lines seemed only about their sleeping habits (there was no other way the rooming arrangements could have shaken out and everyone live). But now, it feels very much like two separate factions working together. Separately: Q- she’s terrified of everything she does being in that book, and she has a hard time wrestling with his innocent naiveté when it reminds her of who she used to be. Briony- Not used to being around women in a strictly friendship sense, but is happy for her presence so Q has someone of a similar maturity. Braxton- He’s rarely there. Annoyed yet darkly amused when he takes point with trap checking and lock-picking; annoyed because she assumes he believes himself an expert in everything (maybe due to him being slightly misogynistic)...amused because she's better and it’s funny to watch him fail due to his own hubris. Jax- They instinctually understand each other. It’s complicated but in a good way as she thinks the world of him. Caspian- Like recognizes like but she feels they have different motivations behind collecting information...and it’s hard for her to move beyond a betrayal of trust. She does enjoy bantering with him and sharing a penchant for innuendo.

8) In what ways are they similar to you?

Insightful, observant, curious, collector of knowledge, has two sides to protect her softness

9) In what ways are they different from you?

Unashamed in the way she moves through the world, unabashedly flirtatious and teasing, confident, how she copes with things (tends to be physical indulgences), seeing trust as black and white, unafraid of confrontation or large birds

10) What do they look for in a romantic partner, if they have a romantic orientation?

She’s super pan and attracted to interesting people. She loves those who keep her guessing and have layers she can explore without ever becoming bored. With a lot of hidden quirks, they need to be fine in indulging her intense love for museums or sleeping in until the latest time possible. Because of stuff that happened in her past, she needs someone who she feels safe with and who can handle that baggage. Someone who can keep up with her banter but who can be soft with her; she wants an equal partner and not someone who she has to take the reins from all the time. So confidence, intelligence, depth, strength, compassion.

11) If they had a patronus or animagus form, what would it be?

Ooooooooo....idk. Maybe a panther animagus? Something that slinks around with confidence but can be very soft. Patronus would be a cat like Talis or a hippogriff like Fantôme...or a peafowl.

12) What do they smell like?

The ocean and "oriental” notes with hints of coconut and citrus. Someone who has sailed the coastline would have had the opportunity to collects lots of sachets of things to scent their clothing along with various oils, etc which lends itself to the “oriental” perfume family.

13) What is their secret skill?

Sketching/drawing. She’s intensely private about it; but has charcoal, pencils, and a sketchbook in her pack that’s rather like a diary.

14) What is their relationship to spirituality?

Non-existent save for some superstitions. Hosanna was religious but not superstitious; Talise reversed it as she had a hard time retaining her faith in anything.

15) If they were to be remembered for something, what would they want to be remembered for?

NOT for what happened in her previous life, unless that remembrance served the greater good. She’d just like to be remembered, in general, rather than lost to lines in a book. She wants people to speak kindly of her and the small amount of goodness she’s put into the world.

16) Why did they become an adventurer?

Chance meeting in Dolcino when she was taking a break from sailing haha And news of Yanis came up on their travels so she had to see it through.

17) What’s one thing about their backstory that came to you after you already started playing the campaign?

One notable thing--hadn’t even thought about her being an alcoholic (sober now) until making her playlist. For some reason, “Chandelier” kept coming up and it had to have been a sign because it’s deepened her in ways I wasn’t expecting. Also her tattoos. And her not being a morning person xD

18) Do you have any headcanons for them that haven’t come up in game? Or headcanons for other party members?

Absolutely. Her tattoos and why she has them (only one person in the party has probably seen them); what drove her to her alcoholism; and her sketching. Other party members: Q- that he has tried to teach some magic to Quirrel enough times that Quirrel can mimic the somatic components of some spells; that he’s instantly awake in the mornings with a pep in his step. Briony- that she genuinely doesn’t know or understand how privileged she is and so makes statements about some type of princess-y thing she thinks is normal but is very much not. Jax- he has Talise braid his hair before sleeping because it’s more effective than a ponytail in keeping it neat at night; he quietly chats with Francis when he needs to think through things weighing on his mind; he keeps a tiny, secret notebook to make notes to himself on things he remembers, things he enjoys, etc. Caspian- when he reads dialogue he really likes in books, he’ll speak it aloud until he figures out the exact voice for the character so he can use it for later;

19) Any ships with your character? If a PC or NPC, what interaction launched it?

She’s the first character in a LONG time I legit ship with another PC. Whether it becomes romantic or remains platonic (it’s not just up to me or Talise), Jax is the most significant person in her life–excluding her brother. They just got each other from day one and they seem to be the only ones able to easily talk to the other, even when the subject is difficult. The canon you created about her feeling safe with Jax is 100% true; ever since Before, she has a hard time sleeping around other people but she trusts him enough to even share a bed…and he’s the only one with whom she would never be anything but truthful. At their core, they are people reinventing themselves after tragedy but don’t know if they’re doing it right. But Jax makes Talise feel it’s alright to be who she authentically is rather than acting the part she’s written for herself; and to find joy again in the things from her past. The ship’s legit launch was after their serious conversation about “equivalent exchange” in relationships (about Caspian) and has since been buoyed by all their side chats + interactions. “…are you just going to stare at me?” “Until you’re ready.”

20) What would your character consider their biggest success? Or what is your favorite success your character has had so far?

Finding her brother and beginning to reconcile Hosanna with Talise. My favorite success was that conversation mentioned above...or successfully surprising characters and peeps with her backstory drops.

#dnd #ref for character #food for asks #reference #fuzzy feathers #dnd ask meme #dnd asks

2 notes · View notes