#and personal privacy is next to impossible to acquire in this place without lots of criminal behavior being involved
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WiP Whenever
a little WIP because I've only been working on this and I like sharing my writing, lol. original work, sort of a post-apoc/cyberpunky thing. this bit is about hating your (biological but non-parenting for legal reasons [the therapist said holy shit her parenting will fuck up your child]) mom.
in this setting therapy is more common than actual doctors because of how severely fucked up everyone is from how their society is laid out. but therapists aren't used to make happy children, they're used to make functional children for the corporate machine. this translates to, in practical terms, BARELY functioning children! so I've been having fun playing with that idea, of everyone being severely screwed up but therapy-speaking their way through it. no reason. no real-world allegories. we're just having fun here haha.
“I thought we agreed physical violence was uncivilized, and that abusing power leads to moral decay.”
From behind Mitera, Adela rolled her eyes excessively, slinging her arms over the low back of the velvet couch. Yes, very helpful, Mother. The whole 'one parent did the parenting' relationship worked a lot better when the other parent wasn't constantly making silent commentary.
“When I stopped slapping people, the amount of overall bullying increased,” Merissa said in a dead, dull voice, scooping up the glass. She left the bar, grabbing her bottle of mango-lime tincture out of the machine on the way. “I'm performing controlled experiments for the greater societal good.”
“If it is outside of a laboratory environment, it isn't controlled,” Adela dismissed. Leaning forward, she ignored her wife's silent stare, arm slinging forward to snatch the martini glass from Merissa's fingers.
And sometimes the commentary was less silent.
Rather than rise to the provocation, Meri turned away and threw herself onto a ruby chaise, crossing her booted feet at the ankle, spike heel digging into the upholstery. Uncapping the bottle, she took a long swig. Tilting her chin up, she stared at the softly-glowing ceiling,following the stamped brass pattern of the tiles with a wandering gaze; a childhood habit.
She'd spent a lot of time in this room being criticized.
When Mother cleared her throat, Merissa beckoned without saying a word. There was no need for her participation. After all, Mother had this pointless haranguing all settled on her own, why should she add to it and make it longer?
Merissa had shit to do.
When neither of them broke the tense silence, Mitera inhaled slowly, shaking her head slightly with a furrowed brow. “The lack of scientific rigor isn't...” Trailing off, she closed her eyes, pursed her lips together, and then opened them again. Her gracefully lined forehead smoothed out, and Mitera smiled gently, eyes fluttering open. “Merissa, you know it makes your Mother irritated when you say untrue things to upset her.”
Mitera had decided to be on Mother's side today; how delightful.
Of fucking course. “Don't coddle the socially-inept dictator. She's being deliberately obtuse to pick a fight with me, and you are well aware of that.” Despite her struggle to stay cold and detatched as her, Merissa couldn't help the note of mocking bitterness in her voice. “Did you finally forge a parenting license, Adela? There's no way you'd pass the tests.”
“Merissa, don't escalate,” Mitera said disapprovingly. “She is not legally allowed to engage in parenting you, no, but she is still one of your biological mothers, and your mentor.”
“But she is not my legal parent.”
“Do you genuinely not understand that I own the bureau you're wielding against me like a weapon?” Adela asked, staring down her nose with an icily glowing gaze, voice dripping with condescension. “I assure you, if legality is all that's stopping you, that can be rectified.”
“Adela,” Mitera said quietly.
They looked at each other, and just for a second it was like Merissa could see their silent argument being transmitted like lines of code, spoken in subtle gestures, stares, and facial expressions on Mitera's part. After catching a rather disapproving frown, Meri knew while she'd never say it in this room, Amma was pissed. Good.
Mother had been drowning her lately, it'd be nice to have backup, even backup as flimsy as this.
“I simply don't agree,” Mother finally said, with a hint of sullen irritation that didn't touch her face. “I have not been shown sufficient progress to offset the public petulance and continued attachment to that boy.”
“And I simply don't give a craterous fuck. Amma said I could leave for off-shift if I finished your banal, puerile tests, and I did. Stop trying to ruin my fun because you're jealous of me and have no soul!”
Adela scoffed, leaning back in her seat with her faintly-glowing silver eyes narrowing. “I should have been party to the negotiations. I'm not satisfied.”
If Amma was even a little on her side, Meri needed to use it and push now, otherwise she'd be stuck here. Giving Adela Medina an inch meant she'd take the kilometer and charge you for the whole length. But threats didn't work; to her those were challenges.
“I don't care. Your authority does not supersede Mitera's, and if you force her to reconsider her choice, you're going to damage your relationship with me, and her. Possibly even your relationship with her, considering your history. Do you want to do that? Damage our relationships and my mental health?”
Pinned under the weight of Adela's cold artificial eyes, Meri began to feel a bit squirmy in the stomach, the old murdered feelings of childhood scrabbling to escape the grave. But no. She wouldn't let Mother do that to her any more. Merissa lifted her chin and stared back, adopting the same detatched, appraising stare.
Deliberately, she took another sip from the bottle, wishing the pharma would kick in and keep her calm. Trying to read Mother did nothing, she didn't have enough emotion for anything so crass as facial expressions, so Meri didn't bother. She just waited sixty seconds to pretend she was letting her ruminate. That was long enough. Merissa knew Mother had already decided, she was just trying to make her squirm. “Well?”
“Manipulative. Finally, a well-constructed argument. Very well. Just stay away from-”
“No, I am not staying away from Desmond. He's going to apologize, he always does. You know what therapists say about breaking up our social groups.” And what people would say about her for doing it. Not good. But that threat didn't need to be said out loud, because they all knew it.
Adela closed her eyes. “Zenia.”
#thea talks#Adela's whole thing is she owns the biggest and most important security technology company#and personal privacy is next to impossible to acquire in this place without lots of criminal behavior being involved#so she knows EVERYTHING#and she's trying to raise Merissa for the same evil puppetmaster role#and failing miserably#honestly all the parents are failing miserably#which is very fun to write!
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Part 3 of the SNEAK ‘verse
Four months later, Tony has successfully hidden three different back-up power sources for JARVIS in vacation homes his parents’ hopefully won’t ever find out they own. He’s already working on better solutions and improving JARVIS’s safety, but for now it’s a start.
They can work with this.
Roughly nine weeks after Tony’s twenty-third birthday and a particularly exhausting dinner filled with unwelcome career advise, Tony Stark walks out of his parents’ mansion and doesn’t come back.
[He leaves a note. He’s not a complete jackass. Also JARVIS insisted.]
[continues under the cut]
Tony disappears in a small, unremarkable apartment in a small town in Pennsylvania. It’s a temporary solution, one that is unfortunately necessary while Tony plans his next move. He already knows where he’s going to resurface, where he’ll establish himself officially — there’s no place like NYC if you want to entrench yourself in the super community, particularly on the vigilante front — but from the moment he does that, people will be watching.
And that’s not Tony’s arrogance talking. The fact remains, Tony Stark establishing himself in a super community will draw attention. Some of it will be inconvenient but harmless and ultimately fade the moment a new supervillain disrupts everyday life. Some of it won’t be.
[There’s a reason why the first step in the plan has been to create an AI that people would label SKYNET if they had any idea of its existence and it wasn’t because Tony needs a personal assistant to remember his parents’ birthdays. If he wants to actually succeed, to establish himself as a useful resource for supers, then the privacy and safety of his customers is paramount.
There’s also the fact that Tony is a noisy little shit who likes being able to hack into the various three-letter-intelligence services whenever the mood strikes him and assistance is appreciated, but that’s really just a bonus.]
People will dig into Tony once he makes his intentions clear. Because supers. Supers have been the most polarizing topic on the world’s collective political agenda since their first creation and times may have changed but not by that much.
So. By the time Tony opens his business for the first time, he needs to have everything in place. The safe houses. The back-up safe houses. The storage places. The identities and resources to fall back on in case his home will get compromised. Which — considering Tony is planning on dealing with superheroes and supervillains — will happen. It’ll only be a matter of time.
And Tony is many things, brilliant, confident, arrogant, human, but no one has ever accused him of being stupid. Opening up a super-focused business is gonna step on a lot of toes, piss a lot of powerful people off and raise the interest of even more. But if it was easy, Tony wouldn’t bother, would drop the idea on some of his over-eager college friends, give them a couple of hundred thousand to get them started and revisit their efforts again in a year or two.
Tony’s doing it because it’s gonna be tough, because it’s gonna be tricky. And. Because Tony Stark will be a hell of a lot harder to disappear than most. [But not impossible. Hence the creation of JARVIS. And the Legacy Protocol.]
With Phase 1: Build the World’s Most Kickass AI — from now on referred to as this operation’s Head of Cyber Security and Market Analysis — completed, Tony has two months to put Phase 2: Back-ups B to Z and Phase 3: Build a HQ Worthy of the Cause into place. It’s not a lot of time, but that’s as long as Tony can reasonably disappear without anyone asking too many inconvenient questions or getting too suspicious. [Especially once Tony pops back up with all these nice, dangerous ideas and plans.]
Besides Tony’s always thought that the deadline is it’s own kind of inspiration.
"Alright then." He cracks his knuckles, which earns him JARVIS’ judging silence, and opens a new window on his newly-acquired computer. "Let’s fuck up a lot of plans and have fun doing it."
JARVIS, the party-pooper, plays the audio recording of a very done-with-your-shit™ exhausted sigh. Tony can’t even be annoyed at the lack of faith because his baby boy is developing a sense of humor. [Even if all of Rhodey’s many warnings come true and J ends up taking over the world, at least he’ll do it with awesome quips and fucking style.]
#ReRe writes#Tony and his bots#meaning JARVIS but JARVIS counts okay#Tony Stark#JARVIS#SNEAK verse#this could've been a villain's origin story 'verse#fic#basically Tony's backstory in this 'verse#listen he put a lot of effort into this plan#like he genuinely made SKYNET just because he needed decent cyber security#meanwhile there's Rhodey shouting THAT MOVIE WASN'T A FUCKING INSPIRATION YOU MORON#but Tony just bobs his head to music and let's JARVIS hack Rhodey's phone and mess with his contact list#superheroes and supervillains are known and (fairly) common#Tony's relationship to his parents is complicated#but when is it not
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Peonies Chapter 1
soOkay so for those of you who didn’t know what the heck just happened. Tumblr decided to screw with the first chapter and not post it properly. Rude I know!
So I jumped on my work computer and going to quickly post it so I don’t get in trouble. Teehee.
Y’all ready for this though! I’m so excited for this one! The vocabulary that I’ve had to use is quite nice and fits the times perfectly!
Next Chapter
masterlist
HERE WE GO!
Peonies a a charming lady
She doesn’t like a spot too shady
Likes to live out in the light
Dressed in red or pink or white
To Bloom brighter than the earth
And to defeat all others
What is it like to be a Duchess who will be Governing a vast amount of Northern Italy? I’m not quite sure yet due to the fact mio padre is still ruling over the land and I’m being tutored in the fine games of politics. Oh do not get me wrong I would rather acquire all of the information of learning to rule rather than taking the responsibility too prematurely.
Handing my reins to the stable boy as I began walking inside the Monastery to meet with Mother Superior Ani. I speak to her for council when it comes to somewhat major decisions in my life. This major decision is traveling to Russia and supporting Catherine in her new life. From what she has told me and what I’ve heard from padre. Russia is an absolute catastrophe.
Something is relaxing about walking through the monastery when the sound of the nuns are singing. The beautiful art of the story of Christ, the only sound besides their songs are the winds blowing and birds chirping. Quite beautiful. Standing in the middle of the courtyard as I waited for Mother Ani to greet me for our chat.
“Good afternoon Lady Chiara.” I was greeted by Sister Calderón along with Sister Grazia. The only set of twin nuns I’ve ever witnessed in my life.
“Good afternoon Sister Calderón. Sister Grazia. I’m assuming that Mother Ani is finishing her afternoon confessions?” Asking them as they both nodded.
“How are we feeling today?” They smiled as they approached me.
“We’re going on a mission trip to Africa very soon!” Sister Calderón cheered as Sister Grazia jumped a little.
“We’re finally leaving!” Sister Grazia exclaimed as I smiled and clapped for them.
“Congratulations you two!”
“I’m assuming they told you about their mission trip?” Mother Ani approached us as they collected themselves in front of her. Nodding and they scurrying off back into the chapel.
“They’re very excited. Mother Ani. I promise not to take much of your time today as I know dinner is soon.”
“It’s quite alright. Shall we stroll in the gardens?” She asked as I nodded. As I mentioned before I go to her for counseling as she is the wisest person I’ve ever met in my entire life. Her wisdom comes from true experience unlike most men in the Catholic Church. We began walking towards the gardens so that we may talk in absolute privacy. I need her advice on my thoughts of going to Russia.
“Mother Ani. What have you heard about Russia?” Halting at my question as I expected her reaction. Shocked and in confusion.
“Why are you asking?” Sighing at her question as we entered the archway into the garden.
“My cousin Catherine has married the Emperor of Russia and I’m quite concerned for her. She’s written some horrific things that have happened to her after only being married to him these past few weeks. He has punched her, killed her bear that he gifted her for their wedding, and even has multiple lovers. I know that’s very normal but that’s not exactly the way Catherine and I were raised. I think I would like to go to Russia and support her as she becomes accustomed to her new life.”
“I say that is a very gracious thing to do for your cousin. But are you prepared to deal with the insanity of the monarch and Russian court?” I’ve heard some very bizarre things about them and I get this feeling Catherine should have some sort of noble ally.
“I have been taught how to deal with any form of court and spoiled Monarchs. And being next in line to Govern these lands, they would not dare to lay a finger on me.They’re too busy with Sweden and if they were to kill me, Italy would align with the Swedish in order to defeat the Russians. So that’s not my concern. My only one being is to keep myself sane. Will you pray for me Mother Ani for a safe return?” We stopped as we faced each other.
“Of course my child. When do you leave?”
“In a few days. Mio Padre is sending me with a brand new horse and arms for self defense. Just in case he says. Needs me to stay alive if I’m to do my duty as a Grand Duchess soon.”
“May God protect you on your journey and your aid in Russia. To think when you were baptized at Basilica di San Francesco. You would become this fair and wise over the years. You will make a beautiful Duchess of Italy.” Her words are always ones of great fulfillment. Always positive and never false. A little overconfident but there’s nothing wrong with having a little confidence in yourself. As long as you can control it without coming off as conceited.
~~
The best gift to bring when arriving at a palace that you're staying for a few weeks is a vast variety of different wines. As a gift I’ve brought wine that has been sitting and aging beautiful for almost sixty years. Both sweet and bitter red wines that as I’ve said, have aged beautifully.
I decided to ride up to the Royal Palace on horseback in order to make an impression on the Emperor when he greets me. Besides if I sit in that carriage another minute my legs and bottom will hate me for the rest of my life.
Leading my carriage (which had my maid Fernanda inside) to see that the front yard of the palace was empty. They must be hunting or in the palace working on running the Empire. Pulling the reigns of my horse as we entered the entryway of the palace into the courtyard. Catherine was standing at the entrance as she looked radiant but yet somewhat good. We were practically sisters till I began my schooling of politics.
Climbing down off my horse as she walked towards me as we both bowed to each other. Which left us giggling at each other to then give each other a hug. I have missed my dear cousin/sister and oldest friend in my life!
“My dear Catherine, it is lovely to see you before me. And an Empress! Last time I saw you we were reading Shakesphere on our boat around Sardinia!” I cheered as we linked arms for us to walk inside the palace.
“I’m glad you have arrived at my new home. Sadly..it is not a home sweet home. Not yet at least.” She commented as I nodded.
“I’ve read in your latest letter and from a few reliable sources. I’m not quite sure how the hell you are managing all of this.” I’m finally able to show my true colors in front of Catherine as I must be proper in front of the family, advisers, and so on and so forth. But with Catherine. It is nothing but honesty and true colors.
“The women of court?” Asking her I could feel her cringe.
“Simple minded with their heads filled with emptiness.” We began walking up the stairs as my servant and others carried my things up the stairs.
“Most of the women in court are filled with only air in their heads. Mother always said that entertaining the women of the court is next to impossible. But don’t worry. I am here and those women don’t know what I will be bringing these next few weeks.” We made it to the top of the stairs as a woman approached us.
“Marial. This is my dear cousin Duchess Chiara! She will be placed in the room next to me and I will be telling her all our plans!” Catherine winked as she had a cheeky smile. Tell me what plans? What has she got up her sleeve?
My room was not as big of course as I am a guest. It was a light blue room that had white flowers painted all over. The bed was very tall and extremely spacious with blue and white bedding. I think in England they would call this the Blue Room. A grand fireplace was lit that was also baby blue with gold trim. Come to think of it there was a lot of gold trim in this room which is sort of weird.
Fernanda and those who were bringing my trucks came into my room as she took around my guest room. I took off my riding hat to throw on the bed as Fernanda sat down on one of the guest chairs.
“It’s very modern. But I miss our home.” I nodded as I began unbuttoning my riding coat.
“So do I already. We remembered to pack Padres guns right?” Asking her as she looked over from the chair.
“Yes. I believe they’re bringing them up now.” She pointed towards the door as the rest of my servant brought in my trunks of different forms of weaponry. My fencing sword, regular sword, muskets, rifles, and pistols. I’m going to hunt some sort of wild beast that lives in this mad land and bring it home as a trinket. A Siberian Tiger would be a very nice trinket to bring home for la famiglia.
Catherine came into the room with her maid in a very powerful march. As if she had something extremely important to tell me. AS in a life or death situation that couldn’t wait to be told.
“We have much to discuss before dinner tonight.” Looking at Fernanda who excused herself. I’ll catch her up on the gossip later.
“Now. I’m glad you decided to come and visit me. I have exciting news that I could use your help desperately with.” She pulled me over to the chairs as her servant stood next to her.
“I’m staging a coup d'état and in dire need of your help.” Not what I was expecting to hear in honesty. A coup? To think last year she was so excited to come to Italy and watch La Serva Padrona. And now a coup?
“I umm..mamma mia a coup? Are you quite sure about this Catherine? I’d rather not see you dead. We have too much fun together.”
“Which is why I have you. You’ve been studying how to rule a land and how to take the necessary steps..
“Catherine. I’ve been raised and tutored in Governing a land to be a Duchess not an Empress.” They’re very different in a weird way..wait why am I making excuses! But I should meet the Emperor to see why she’s forming a Coup and if he’s not as bad as I thought, maybe talk her out of it. Gossip from the court isn’t always trustworthy, obviously.
“Let me experience at least one night with your husband..not sexually of course because that’s disgusting. I sadly can’t be seen helping stage a completely different country's coup. Might make a bad reputation for me. But if it is as bad as everyone is saying. I’m in.” She nodded in my response as a small boy came into our room.
“The Emperor requested your presence.” He told Catherine as she rolled her eyes.
“Get yourself ready for dinner Chiara and make sure you take a drink of something. You’ll definitely need it.” Alcohol? Should’ve brought a few barrels of wine just in case. I’ve never had vodka and I know these Russians drink alcohol as if it was coming from their mothers tit.
~~~
I’ve decided to pull out the big dress tonight as to make an impression on her entire court. The Duchess is here and she’s not meant to be tampered with! My brand new bright red dress that had white trills and designs all across it. I wore the royal sash that was given to me by King Ivrea Spoleto which was pearl white. My hair was of course up (even though it hurts my head a little bit) with pearls wrapping around my mountain of hairstyles. I truly don’t approve of it due to the fact that it takes too long to put up.
“Do I look ready to impress an entire court of Russians.” Looking into the mirror one last time as my chocolate hair looked delectable.
“From what I’ve seen going up and down the stairs of this place. You look absolutely stunning.” Fernanda commented as I smiled at her.
“Oh! You need your knife!” Fernanda commented as I placed my right leg up on the end of my bed as she got into the bottom of my trunk. My grandfather's hunting knife that was given to him by the Queen of Chad when he first took reign. It was a beautiful sycamore that swirled at the base, the blade was a beautiful silver that shines everytime you display it. Even after all these years it looks stunning and deadly. Fernanda allowed me to put on the knife holster around my thigh then placed the knife in its holder.
“Wish me luck for dinner. And I wish you the best of luck with chatting with the servants tonight for dinner. I’ll sneak you some desserts if we have anything that’s a pastry.” Winking at her as she nodded.
Walking out of my room as I opened my fan as I waited for Catherine to come out of her room. I think Fernanda tied my corset a little too tight but not the first time this has happened. Though I’d rather be wearing pants and my button ups. Which will be what I wear when I’m running around the palace. Catherine came out of her room in a beautiful white, pink, and red dress that really made her pure white skin shine. Not to mention her blonde hair shined brightly.
“Are you ready for the show?” She asked as we began walking down the stairs.
“Not quite. But I did sneak a glass of wine into my room so my body is not as tense.” We made it down the bottom of the stairs.
“So who is the biggest ass kisser of the Emperor? There’s always one.”
“His name is Grigor Dymov. He kisses the Emperor's ass so much that he allows his own wife to be his whore.”
“The second hand man married to the Emperors would be whore. If we are to do this I’m assuming we’re going after his right hand man? No. A much more subtle approach will be safer. Not that I’ve made my decision on whether to help, but I'd like to at least like to know your plan of action.”
“We’re first going after Count Orlov who has an understanding of the state of Russia. He’s a modern man who reads all of the famous authors in Europe.”
“I’m assuming he’s in the inner circle then?” Walking down the long hallway then stopping in front of the double doorway.
“Yes. We're here. Just put on a fake smile and we’ll be just fine.”
The doors opened and a wave of heat hit my skin. A mixture of alcohol and what smells like fish hit my nose as I wanted to just go back to my room. But I have to do this and need the impression in order to make my decision.
My fan helped me cool down tremendously as I was looking around at The Emperor's Court. To my right there were some women watching butterflies flying around her in a complete state of awe! They’re butterflies! Oh my goodness it is a show! There of course was dancing in the middle of the room that looked a little unfamiliar. I have to remind myself that I’m not at home and in a completely different country.
Catherine handed me a glass of the clear liquid which is what I’m assuming is Vodka. Lifting my head back as It burned down my entire throat as I shook my head.
“Heavens Catherine!” I laughed as she giggled.
“Definitely helps.” She commented as we began walking further into the room then approaching the women with the butterflies.
“Wow.” Catherine put on this extreme different face and even attitude before me which impressed me.
“I am training them.” The women told us as she began coughing and gagging right in front of us. Holding her hand out to cough out two butterflies! What!
“They do not all make the journey to a new land. Oh and who is this lovely woman.” She asked Catherine as I tried to not scream in horror.
“This is my cousin Duchess Chiara of Italy. This is Aunt Elizbeth of Russia.” We bowed at each other as we sat down on one of the couches that was facing the fireplace. Which of course was absolutely grande with a large elk head hanging above it.
“Let us talk of how you are.” She even had a butterfly drawn on her face! Talk about obsessions.
“I’m quite well. Note my smiling face! My cousin has come to visit me for these next few weeks and I couldn’t be happier.” Smiling as I began looking around the room. Now where is this fat old man that she married and killed her bear! And who also punched her in the stomach.
“I do! Has Emperor Peter also had something to do with this?”
“He has been sweet.”
“Oh. At heart, that is him. You know, as a young boy, Peter would run to his mother, holding aloft a picture he’d drawn or a boat fashioned from leaves, his eyes and words begging for approbation for love. And she would level a gaze at him and hold him in it, and he would fall silent and go so still. And then tears would run from his eyes, and his whole body would begin shaking uncontrollably, and urine would pool at his feet...it was a curious phenomenon.” Catherine and I shared the same facial expression as Elizabeth finished her story to us about Peter. So obviously he wasn’t an old man as I thought and was just a grown child who can’t stand the thought of someone not loving him. Have I made the correct character judgment through his own Aunt? Yes.
“Why would she do that?” Catherine asked as I was also intrigued.
“Everyone has their thing. Hers was cruelty. So I’m asking for some forgiveness, some empathy, from one I can tell is filled with both.” So he’s just a messed up King with mamma and papa issues. Quite ordinary in the monarchs. We began watching Elizabeth playing with her butterflies as a servant offered me a tray of tiny glasses of vodka. Taking one, drinking it then placing it back on the tray. A snap came from Elizabeth as I noticed a butterfly then landed on her finger.
“That is incredible.” I commented as she looked at me.
“Indeed.” Elizabeth went into her own world as Catherine moved herself towards me.
“Ready to meet him?” She asked as I shook my head.
“Non..Non Catherine.” Grabbing my hand for us to start walking towards him. Pushing past all the dancers as I stood a few inches behind her.
“Good evening husband!” Her husband was with another man as I looked down to see he’s in a skirt? They both turned towards her as he had no interest in speaking to us.
“Empress.” He took a sip of his wine as his eyes drifted away from us. Why is he wearing a skirt?
“You look marvelous! And your skirt, it is very pretty.” Why is Catherine kissing her own husband's ass? What woman needs to kiss her own husband's ass! He turned towards us as he flashed himself. Luckily it was all covered.
“Thanks. It also allows one’s cock to swing free in the air. It’s marvelous. Old Madam Bolzoi whipped it up.”
“It’s genius. I apologize if I have been sour face lately. I had my blood in, and you know how that goes..Rrrr.” An excuse that is older than time itself. But usually works because men think they're always being over dramatic during our blood. When in reality they are just horrid creatures.
“Oh, right. I see. Well that explains much.”
“But I feel much restored.” I haven’t seen this much ass kissing since Peter was kissing Jesus’ ass.
“Who the hell are you?” His eyes drifted towards me as I took a step forward.
“My dear husband is my cousin Duchess Chiara of Italy.”
“Emperor.” Bowing in front of him as I then held up myself strong and ready to take on this madman.
“It is truly an honor to be invited here to stay in your breath taking palace. I bring gifts from my home being a beautiful batch of sweet and bitter red wines. In gratitude for letting me stay in your home.” Turning towards the door as about six barrels of wine entered the room as everyone began cheering.
“I hope you enjoy them as a sign of peace from Italy.” Smiling as I knew Catherine would enjoy that little show. Have to make sure the Emperor doesn’t see me as a threat and the goal was achieved.
“God you are stunning. Grigor doesn’t she make your cock hard?” My eyes widened at his statement as all I could do was just stand there.
“Extremely.” He shook his head as I wanted to shoot him. Back home if I was to be talked to like this, the men would be beating the life out of him. I promise you that’s exactly how that happens. My sister was once insulted by an Austrian diplomat..and let’s just say he ended up floating in the Adriatic sea the next morning.
“Tell me, great Emperor. What is the nature of this lively banquet? I've yet to catch up with the issues of Russia.” Everytime I open my mouth up to him, I can feel my skin twisting in regret and my tongue wanting to stop waggling.
“We are honoring some of our wounded who finally won a battle for us against Sweden. Poor fucking guys.” Catherine and I turned our heads to see them in the corner of the room.
“No eyes that one. To never see a naked women or a deer in full fucking fight again. Still, he may fuck ugly women and be happy now.” I’ve never wanted to slap someone so hard in the face!
“Huzzah!” Catherine cheered as she looked completely uncomftorable.
“Let us dance!” Swinging Catherine onto the dance floor as I took a few steps back into the crowd. Grigor I believe his name stood closely beside me as I noticed he was looking at me.
“My apologies Duchess. I did not mean anything by what I said towards you.” Stopping the waving of my fan to face him.
“The right hand man of the Emperor yes?” Asking him as we faced each other.
“Grigor Dymov at your service.” He bowed as I turned off my fake smile.
“I have no service for someone like you. The Emperor's right hand man who kisses his ass so much that shit must be stuck in your ears. I would pity you but being married to the Emporers would be whore. Now that is just..sad. Excuse me.” Walking away from him as I turned my head slightly to see that he was in utter shock.
We walked into the dinning room after the so called dance that her dellusionaly husband made her do as if they were drunk. Catherine and I entered the dining room as The Emperor kicked some sort of General out of his chair as he then moved Elizabeth out of her seat down one more.
“The fat ass gladly gave up his seat. As no Duchess shall be seating with the court members. Greedy fucks.” Peter laughed as I smiled at him. What a rude bastard. But not completely wrong about the people of court.
“Thank you Emperor.” Sitting down as one of the servants pushed my chair in. There were three glasses that sat in front of me at the table. One was filled with wine, another water, then finally a massive one filled with vodka.
A dish appeared at me that looked like some sort of dumpling dish with a side of red..pasty soup? Grabbing my spoon as I poked it as it was meat? Beets? Both? Dipping my spoon into the soup as it tasted..well. The beets were very spiced with a hint of vinegar. The meat was especially spiced but has a sweet after taste. Interesting.
From what I gathered about the Emporer. He’s literally a child that requires all the attention and love from every interaction he has with a person. Which doesn’t come as a surprise due to the fact that the Duke in Sardinia acted just like him, but he ended up jumping into the sea as he learned no one truly loved him. So once Peter realizes that no one truly loves him, maybe he’ll jump into the mouth of a Tiger.
“Tell me Dear. I hope you’re here to bring Catherine happiness. And not here to start trouble between the both of them.” Her Aunt Elizabeth asked me as I took a sip of my water.
“Well. When I received her letter about what happened between them..the bear and the punching. I care about her as if she was my own sister. All I’m here for is her happiness.” A butterfly landed on my nose which made her giggle.
“They see a good soul in you and love it. I hope that you feel welcomed to our home, and it was a good idea bringing wine as a gift. Peter loves his alcohol.” She giggled as I looked down to my nose so watch the butterfly crawl around the tip of it.
“Bring in those Swedish heads!” What? Is that code for a dessert? A servant took away my plate of food that I didn’t even finish yet as I noticed a tray was coming in that had hair on it?
“We will eat dessert under their beady gaze!” Peter giggled as a tray was placed in front of me that..had a Swedish head on it..
God please forgive me.
My stomach turned into knots as I felt the little dinner I had was making its way back up through my throat. Catherine and I looked at each other in disgust as I wanted to run from the room, get on my horse and ride home. Now I see..A coup sounds like a wonderful idea.
The pudding or whatever it was looked delicious but..I can’t..The vomit went into my mouth but I swallowed it back down then drinking my entire glass of water. Just breath Chiara and it will be almost over.
“You rude fucker!” Peter yelled as he lifted his head up to look at his face. Standing up as he began digging his finger into the head.
“Everyone! Poke their fucking eyes out!” He looked so proud of himself! Everyone excluding Catherine and I just sat there as the sound of squishing and eyeballs falling onto the trays filled my heads.
“If you don’t he’ll kill you.” She whispered standing up with the man's head. Doing the sign of the cross as I stood up to lift his head.
“Mi Dispiace. Possa Dio avere pietà della tua anima.” Catherine turned her head as I felt my eyes watering. A single tear fell as I dug my fingers into the first eye. The squishing, blood beginning to drip down my arm as the first eye popped out.
“HUZZAH! DEATH TO THE SWEDISH!” Peter yelled as everyone cheered, drinking their vodka and smashing the glasses onto the floor. Dropping the head onto the tray as everyone began leaving the dining room. My right hand was covered in blood as my toes curled up in my heels from the sight.
The dry blood on my hands was something I couldn’t stop looking at. It’s not that I’ve never seen blood before in my life..but when it comes from..a soldier who probably didn’t even want to fight..I hope that God is merciful to them. They needed to be buried and given a chance to enter the gates of Heaven.
I couldn’t move for..I’m not quite sure how long at this point. Long enough that the servants came into the dinning room to start cleaning up. A woman with a large sack began dropping them into a burlap sack.
“What will you do with them?” Asking the women as she looked up at me.
“Burn them.” No..no. They do not deserve to be burned. Catherine came into the room as I stood up and wanted to scream.
“I’m a Catholic...you’re an Orthodox..we both know their souls can not be saved..but they deserve some sort of burial. Is there a priest in this wretched palace?” She looked upon the dining room then walked over to the servant and then over to me.
“Let them gather the heads and we’ll go speak to the Bishop.” The servant handed us the sack of heads as we began carrying them down the hall as she led me to the Bishops room. It was much heavier than I thought it would be. Never thought I would be thinking a bag of decapitated heads would be heavy! Knocking on the door as he flung it open in annoyance of being distrubed.
“We need you to give these a Christian burial.” SHe ordered as I opened the bag so he could see the horrors of war.
“I can only do a whole body.” He was about to shut the door but I believe the faces that were displayed on Catherines and my face weren't going to take no as an answer. I will send a rider to the Vatican if I have to in order for them to have some sort of entering the gates of heaven.
“I could bless them.” The Bishop told us as I nodded in acceptance of the deal.
A pound of thunder rang out as the heads were gently placed into the hole in the ground. Hard cold rain poured down upon us for Catherine and I to hold hands. We watched as the dirt was beginning to pile on top of their heads. I grabbed my rosary that I wore around my neck for my fingers to hold my cross. The Bishop went on reading from the bible as I softly spoke my own prayer.
“Il Signore ti benedica e ti mantenga, mostrarti la sua faccia e abbi pietà di te. Volse lo sguardo verso di te e ti dava pace. Il Signore ti benedica…..Amen.” Finishing my prayer for the Bishop finished his prayer as he left Catherine and I out in the rain.
“I want to rip the crown off his head myself.” Blurting out as Catherine turned her heads towards me.
“A Coup d'état..sounds like a magnificent plan..”
Taglist:
@mirkwoodshewolf @bonafiderocketqueen @filmslutt @leah-halliwell92 @johndeaconshands @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @radio-hoo-ha @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too @deck-heart @arrowswithwifi @stardust-killer-queen @the-baby-bookworm @actuallyanita @sadhwstudent
#grigor dymov#grigor dymov x reader#grigor#Gwil#Gwilym Lee#Gwily#The Great#Grigor Dymov x o/c#The Great hbo#elle fanning#catherine the great#peter the third#peter of russia#nicholas hoult#Marial#Count Orlo#Russia#Leo#Vlad
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Disability and James
@zarohk asked for my thoughts on a Disability Studies/Media Studies perspective on the disability depictions in Animorphs. [PLEASE NOTE: I am nondisabled, so if I err, please tell me so.]
I’ve mentioned before that James is one of my faves, and possibly my favorite minor character who isn’t a yeerk host. His introduction pulls off a seemingly impossible feat through not only creating a likable Sixth Ranger, but creating a likable Sixth Ranger who comes after David. James is also a complex, nuanced character whose disability is a feature but not a summation of his personality. Plus, he’s a masculine boy who is all about about nurturing others, which always makes me happy.
A few places where I commend the depiction of James:
He leads a social community of disabled kids who help each other. It’s a big part of third-wave progressivism to emphasize sub-communities and various identities helping each other out: women supporting women, queer pride, Latinx-American culture, etc. That’s what we see with the Auximorphs, especially James. James’s motivation is somewhere between 99% “help my roomies” and 100% “help my roomies.” His initial response to Jake and Cassie explaining the war is “so what, a bunch of ableds are gonna get taken by yeerks, not my problem.” It’s only when Cassie points out that the yeerks are eugenicists who murder disabled humans that he switches to “okay, I guess we’ll go fight in your stupid war.” He insists on even the kids who won’t be fighting (Pedro, Tuan) getting the power to morph, and tells Jake that he’ll take suggestions but not orders.
He emphasizes his own and Pedro’s bodily autonomy. James actually goes so far as to throw Jake onto the floor when Jake tries to grab his wheelchair — a move that emphasizes James has the right to move his own body around, and that that includes prostheses. Everyday ableism too often involves random strangers taking charge of the bodies of disabled people, attempting to guide blind pedestrians or push wheelchairs around without asking permission to move a person’s body like that. "My body, my business” is obviously a huge motif in Animorphs, and James pretty explicitly extends that to prostheses as well as fleshy limbs.
He’s nobody’s sidekick, and nobody’s fool. When the Animorphs first tell James that they’re alien-fighting shapeshifters, he assumes that they’re here to prank the disabled kids who they think must be desperate for attention. He barely gives them the time of day even when they prove themselves, and he doesn’t “play nice” even when they add him to the team. James defies the cliché of the disabled kid desperate for the approval of nondisabled peers, and specifically calls it out. He’s the leader of a semi-independent unit who has his own agenda, rather than being at the original Animorphs’ beck and call. Like Toby and her hork-bajir, he’s here to make sure that his group and his loved ones don’t get left behind when the war ends and intersectional identities threaten their rights once again.
He kicks ass. James is competent, tough, skillful, and self-confident with or without the Animorphs. There’s a fairly realistic period where he has to learn the basics of morphing along with the other Auximorphs, but once he learns he’s highly effective. He saves Jake’s life during the Air Force battle (#53), rescues the original Animorphs from Tom’s yeerk (#50), and helps Ax and Cassie escape a mob of morph-controllers who have them cornered in a subway tunnel (#52). He’s agentic and powerful, something we don’t see enough of in disabled child characters.
He emphasizes that the more-privileged communicator has to be the one to do the work of meeting in the middle. Cassie notes in #50 that James puts in a lot of work to communicate with Pedro (who is paralyzed) and Timmy (who has a speech disorder). James is the one who can hear/speak in a fairly normative fashion, so James often “translates” for Timmy — but he always does so by letting Timmy finish a sentence rather than cutting him off by trying to guess what he’ll say next. James is the one who can work the stereo in his and Pedro’s room, so he makes sure that he always lists genres and waits for a blink of confirmation before he changes the music. James also defers to Pedro’s request for country western in spite of being a punk rock fan himself, because James remains conscious of the fact that if he doesn’t like the music he can always leave the room, while Pedro doesn’t have that option.
He’s thoroughly individuated. James likes Blink 182 and dislikes reality TV. He uses his morphs for agility — peregrine falcon, lion — more than firepower. He spends a lot of time on his hair, and he treasures privacy as much as he values his friends. He repeatedly calls Cassie and Jake on their bullshit, in spite of being visibly scared to do so as the new kid on the team. One wouldn’t necessarily think that these are huge accomplishments (and to be clear, they’re not) but there are way way too many minor characters in wheelchairs, especially sci-fi stories, that don’t get characterized beyond their various emotions and thoughts that directly relate to their wheelchairs.
A few places where James falls into the common traps of implied ableism creeping into fiction, as written about in Narrative Prosthesis:
He gets “cured”. The fact that James’s body is, however implicitly, depicted as a “problem” that must be “fixed” suggests that the theoretical ideal point is the nondisabled body he would have had if not for the car accident. Like I said, it’s 100% fine if a disabled character gets written as preferring to be nondisabled, but if the series offers the unquestioned assumption that the “correct” body is the nondisabled version, then that’s... not great.
His disability is presented as a mystery that needs solving. Like Loren, James gets presented with an implicit frame of “why are you like this?” that assumes his body is “abnormal” and therefore begs a question. In James’s case, it comes in the form of Collette explaining why he’s disabled (a car crash) before we ever even hear from James himself. Again, it’d be fine if this was the only time this happened, but the fact that the series “explains” almost all of the disabled characters (Taylor, Loren, Mertil, Kelly, Pedro) suggests that disability is something that needs explaining because it’s aberrant.
Some of the physical descriptions of James are a bit eugenicist. After he first demorphs, Cassie says “standing over the group now, steady and strong, was James. He was taller than Jake, broader-shouldered... long and muscular” and describes how James helps to carry the other Auximorphs as they acquire battle morphs (#50). James gets presented as a contrast point to the Auximorphs who remain disabled, because his body is presented as “correct” while theirs are not. If it was just Cassie, that’d be one thing, but Ax says “unlike James, the others are physically helpless” (#50) and later Jake describes the contrast between James being strong and the other Auximorphs being “weak” and “faintly pathetic” (#53). In the process, the descriptions tie together the ideas of being masculine, being independent, being physically strong, and being worthy of respect. American rugged individualism, especially as it applies to white men and boys, has a dark side in that it often regards physical dependence on others as a sign of cowardice or weak will or moral failing. That assumption underwrites some of the way that James gets described by the other Animorphs.
He gets killed. By killing off James and his fellow Auximorphs, the series falls into the “kill or cure” narrative that Mitchel and Snyder trace throughout history for the overwhelming majority of disabled characters. Disability is too often presented as being necessary to “solve” through death or cure, to the point where the Fries Test (designed to be a minimum threshold for disability representation, like the Bechdel Test for women) requires that disabled character(s) make it to the end of the story without being eradicated through cure or kill as the bare minimum condition that a story be somewhat less ableist. Animorphs does not pass the Fries Test, because it eradicates its disabled characters through a combination of cures and kills.
Specifically, he gets killed to manipulate the emotions of a nondisabled character. When Visser Three kills James, the moment is presented through Jake’s point of view, and it leads up to Jake’s decision to flush the Pool ship. Maybe my biggest frustration is that that moment only serves to cause Jake pain and help push him off the rails. It doesn’t change the plot of the final battle the way Tom’s death does, it doesn’t stop to give James a conscious choice the way Rachel’s death does, it just makes Jake sad and mad and reckless. It’s the same dang dynamic as women in refrigerators: the less demographically privileged character becomes a prop for a more-privileged protagonist to have emotions about.
Anyway, to say it again: none of those individual elements of James’s story — death, cure, urgent backstory — would be necessarily problematic if there were equally-major disabled characters in Animorphs who didn’t demonstrate those elements. It’s the fact that James demonstrates all of those elements and so do most of the other disabled characters that makes me wish the series had done better.
#animorphs#animorphs meta#animorphs criticism#james#auximorphs#50#53#disability representation#representation#james animorphs#disability#social model of disability#long post#ableism#disability studies#media studies#q word
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Not A Ghost - part 30
A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.
Taglist: @emma-frxst @ra-ra-rasputiin @holamor @empressme-bitch @marvel-is-perfection @hazilyimagine @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash @whitewitchdown @master-sass-blast @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen @emberbent @leo-writer . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.
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Piotr’s gut was in knots, sick with worry. Each minute passing by was a minute that his wife and best friend were in terrible danger.
Charles Xavier reviewed the plans of the Icebox, projected onto the wall of his office. One of his teams had hacked into government servers to steal them. Even so, they weren’t complete plans. Some of the files were redacted, and the team was still looking for full versions. But, it was enough to confirm what Xavier had suspected for years. “Part of the structure has the very same alloy that Magneto and the Juggernaut use in their helmets, to keep telepaths from finding them.” He centered his gaze on the distraught Russian. “That’s why I could never find her with Cerebro, Peter. I’m sorry.”
Piotr clenched his fists, then released. “I always knew it wasn’t for lack of trying, Professor.”
"What we don't know," Xavier inhaled, deep in thought, "is how they acquired so much of it."
Cable pointed at one section, then another, "I initially breached here. In this section is where I first engaged Wade. We did a lot of damage they'll have repaired by now." He looked back at the others. "Do we have anything on the repairs?"
Xavier shook his head, "The hackers are still looking. It will be a matter of time."
"We don't have much time," Piotr huffed, agitated, and paced around the table.
"The plan," Cable said firmly as he followed the Russian giant with his gaze, "is for them to take the control office where the DMC keeps the hard tokens. They will need time for that. If we rush in too soon, there's too many factors we can't control."
Usually, Piotr was the levelheaded one. Usually, Piotr was the one talking down Logan or Scott from doing something drastic without thinking. His shoulders were tight with guilt and fear, tension etched into his expression. He turned to the youngest person in the room, "Russell, what can you tell us? What is the daily routine, how do new inmates get processed?"
Russell swallowed. It didn’t seem that long ago since he’d been in the Icebox himself, and he remembered even being a little excited to go, thinking he’d take over the whole prison with pure aggression and willpower. A lot had changed since Wade had taken a bullet for him, including realizing how dangerous the prison really was. He didn't dare say aloud that he thought taking over the place was impossible. “New inmates,” he began, licking his lips, “get hosed off before they give you the jumpsuit. They took mugshots of me and Wade and assigned us numbers, but I heard they don’t do that with everyone…” The adults shared a pointed look that made him pause.
“What else?” Xavier prompted gently.
He thought for a moment, then continued, “They brought me and Wade in at bedtime, put us in the same cell at lights-out. They did meals at six, twelve, and six.”
“What about guard rotations?” Piotr asked. “Or anything about the control office?”
When Russell couldn’t recall much specifically, admitting that wasn’t what he had been paying attention to, Cable filled in what he could. On the schematics, he pointed out a central box where he had previously encountered the officers gearing up in the armory. It had mostly glass walls, a bank of monitors to track security camera footage, control panels to operate every door in the Icebox.
“If they’re smart,” he added, “They’ll have changed a lot of this in the repairs.” Cable cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “Superior firepower aside, I had next to no trouble just walking in there.”
Xavier nodded, carefully considering their options and the best approach to breaching the most secure mutant holding facility in the world.
Brows set in a scowl, hands clenching and releasing, heart pounding with worry, Piotr asked the teenage boy, “Is Rhonda well known in that place? What is her reputation?” He couldn’t bring himself to say his real question aloud.
Russell’s eyes widened slightly, then his gaze fell to the surface of the table under his fingers. He grimaced, sucking his teeth before answering, “The main thing I was told was you only sign the ‘Book in a group.”
--
"Already making the boys cry," Mimi purred in the dark. "I always liked you."
“You arranged this on purpose,” Rhonda didn’t move from having her back against the cell door, wary of every word and action from the leader of the Vicious 13. One hand rose to her collar and rubbed at the scabs.
Mimi leaned into the glow from neighboring cells’ lights, revealing dark, pointed scales like a viper. In more light, the scales would shine shades of green and purple, but in the dark, they looked charcoal grey. Her pale eyes, framed by big, fake, very contraband lashes, greedily drank in Rhonda’s frame, from the green of her hair to the clenched fists. “Of course I did,” she showed a little slip of pointed teeth in a smile, “I couldn’t have you getting killed too soon.”
Rhonda rolled her eyes and slipped onto her cot, but her shoulders didn’t relax. “So you can give me the Join Us Or Die pitch again.”
The reptilian woman clicked her tongue, a delicate sound, “I never say ‘or die,’ please.”
“Well, someone trying to kill me after every time I turn you down isn’t subtle.” She started to settle under the thin blanket. It would never keep her warm enough.
There was a rustling sound like dry leaves as Mimi shifted around. “What about that husband of yours? Did he toss you back in here, or was he never real to begin with?”
Rhonda delayed her answer. It was best to give someone like Mimi as little information as possible. “He’s real.” Over the dull murmuring of inmates settling into bed, someone a few cells down coughed. Maybe Wade.
“Ah,” Mimi hummed with too much amusement, “Homecoming didn’t go as planned. My condolences.” The rustling sounded again, with an added swishing. “Well, a few things have changed since you ran off. What if I told you I’m the only gang in the Icebox now?” Rhonda was quiet long enough that she prodded, “Guestbook?”
“I’ll think about it,” she finally said, even as her skin was crawling.
“You’re a wonderful conversationalist, as always--”
“Good night, Mimi, shut up.”
--
One night down and Rhonda’s muscles were already getting stiff, joints already starting to ache. The hottest the showers would go was just a shade less than lukewarm. A grid of pipes hung from the ceiling in the completely open shower area, a spraying spout at each intersection. Sixteen inmates could shower at once, but there was no privacy. Between being exposed and cold, Rhonda couldn’t get the goosebumps on her skin to lie flat. She tried to imagine the tepid water was just a light summer rain, one she might go dance in just so her husband would laugh and say she was ridiculous.
The showers were a dangerous place, surrounded by other wet, naked inmates, and Rhonda kept her eyes peeled the whole time, even when she got a little soap in them. Other inmates bumped into her or brushed close enough to slash her open if they’d managed to palm a shiv, but none of them gave her anything worse than a sidelong glare.
The towels managed to be both threadbare and scratchy. At one of the cubbies that lined the walls of the shower area, Rhonda scrubbed herself just dry enough that she wasn’t dripping, and yanked on her DMC-provided underwear, grey t-shirt, and yellow jumpsuit. Another inmate, a wiry man with stringy blond hair lazily walked toward the cubby next to hers. She slipped on her flimsy velcro shoes without her socks, ready to fight or run. Getting shanked wasn’t the only danger in this place.
“Tick tock, motherfucker,” the wiry man hissed. “We all know you’re gonna tell Mimi no. Hurry up so we can have some fun with you.” So they were waiting. Either Rhonda would make an arrangement with Mimi and the Vicious 13 and she would have a modicum of protection, or she wouldn’t, and the attack could come from anywhere at any time. How long would they wait? Hopefully she would have time to talk to Wade.
--
Rhonda had gotten to the mess hall with just enough time to get a tray and scarf down some breakfast. She found Wade and took a seat beside him. Between bites of the thinnest, most underdone waffle ever, she noted his fresh black eye. “What happened to you?”
“Oh this?” he laughed, “My cellie was practicing our secret handshake. You should see him.”
“Try not to get in any more fights,” Rhonda replied firmly. She nearly choked on the dregs as she took a swig of what they said was coffee. “We’re joining a gang.”
Wade guffawed loudly enough to make a few people briefly turn their heads and look. “My friend is hilarious!” he told them, waving them off, “Just - just an inside joke, don’t worry about it.” Then he lifted some of Rhonda’s damp hair so he could say low in her ear, “Did you already get kicked in the head? What are you thinking?”
She leaned away until he let go of her hair and grumbled, “I think our options are real fucking slim unless we get some kind of alliance, and I have an in.” She gave the quickest, most casual of glances past Wade to the end of the tables. “You see the snake with eyelashes?”
Wade gave a much more obvious glance, and even waved. Turning back to Rhonda, his eyes went wide in a bright smile. “She’s a giiirrl dragon!”
Rhonda finished her last bite of cold hash browns and shook her head. “I wouldn’t make any more Shrek jokes unless you plan on being the donkey who fucks her.”
#piotr rasputin x oc#colossus x oc#not a ghost#xmen fanfic#deadpool fanfic#longfic#multipart fic#angst#deadpool 2#colossus#piotr rasputin
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The Mind Reader
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Read Part Two Here , Part Three , Part Four
Warnings: very mild language
A/N: I’m very proud of this one so I hope you enjoy. I might do a part two if you guys like it and I get enough feedback? Saying that, it is over 5k words so I apologise. I’m back working on requests now x
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‘Dammit I have a Spanish test’
‘Her skirt is really cute’
‘Lunch better be good today’
The thoughts float around in your head in an organized chaos. Each thought is fleeting and almost disappears as soon as it comes. It’s always like this in crowded areas. Take the school hallway for example. You lose count of how many people you pass, and how many thoughts cross your mind. Mind reading is an ability you only acquired a few weeks ago but you think you could control it now, to a certain extent. You no longer thought you were going crazy, or wanted to rip your brain out of your head. It was hectic, yes, but it was almost calming. The thoughts could mute out your own, if you wanted, or add humour to your day. Seriously, teenagers think of the weirdest things. Adjusting the grip on your backpack you made your way to first period: chemistry. You passed Flash on the way and almost lost it when he started thinking about whether he should be a full time DJ.
‘I’ve done two parties now and people love it. People love me. Hell yeah I could be a DJ.’
When you entered the classroom you made your way to the back row. It was easier to concentrate back here as people weren’t surrounding you. You could also discretely put a headphone in. Music helped drown out the thoughts because unfortunately you didn’t need to know everything 24/7. It got exhausting and unnerving. Besides, you almost failed the last chemistry test so you needed to concentrate. You were thankful that you didn’t have this class with MJ. You loved her but she thought of the weirdest and funniest crap. Mind reading was a weird ability to have. It was more annoying than helpful, and so far you couldn’t figure out how to turn it ‘off’. Yes it was harmless, but reading thoughts seemed like an invasion of privacy, especially around your friends. You always tried to not pay attention to their thoughts or drown them out, but it didn’t always work. Luckily you hadn’t heard anything you shouldn’t have yet. Well, technically everything is something you shouldn’t have heard, but nothing catastrophic anyway. The bell sounded just as the teacher entered. Immediately his thoughts entered yours and you were bombarded with his feelings about his most recent fight with his boyfriend. Well this should be an interesting class.
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By the time lunch arrives you are drained. Today seemed to be extra difficult as every thought was heavy with emotion. Usually it wasn’t this bad, but it got worse when you were tired or stressed. You couldn’t block thoughts as easily so every little idea crossed your own mind. If someone else complained about homework you might go insane. MJ was already at your table when you arrived and collapsed next to her, bringing your face to your hands. Yep, today you were going insane. Her thoughts began to leak to you like an oil spill, and there was nothing you could do but sit and listen to them. Thankfully she was tired today too and wasn’t thinking about much. Ned and Peter soon joined you. You greeted them without lifting your head, the weight of everyone’s thoughts too much.
“You okay?” Ned asked, sitting opposite you.
You nodded and almost laughed when he thought, ‘she doesn’t look okay but I’m hungry.’
With a sigh you sat up straight and started eating. Your mood slowly improved as conversation flowed. MJ was preoccupied with a book but you were happy to go along with Peter and Ned’s conversation. Mind reading made these interactions more fun as you knew exactly what the other person was thinking. It’s funny how often people lie to please their friends.
“So what are you doing tonight?” Peter asked you.
Shrugging, you replied, “homework I think. You?”
“Stark internship.” He replied quickly.
Oh yes. The holy Stark internship. Half the time you wondered what he actually did there. You imagined him running around getting Starbucks for the Avengers and cleaning their weapons. It was unrealistic but humorous. You nodded and grabbed your water. When you took a sip Peter’s thoughts entered your mind.
‘I really need to fix the web design. I can’t be Spiderman with no webs.’
You choked on the water and proceeded to have a coughing fit. Peter and Ned looked at you immediately and thoughts of concern entered your head. MJ simply glanced up then continued reading. You assured them that you were fine and recovered partly. Peter was Spiderman. Peter Parker. Shit. You knew you weren’t supposed to know that, and it only made you angry. Stupid powers. They kept talking but you were no longer focusing. You were friends with Spiderman, and your friend was Spiderman. Your food was forgotten about as you tried to process this new information. Did Ned know? Obviously he did. Peter isn’t that great at keeping secrets. You doubted that MJ knew since she hardly took an interest in your lives in general. A part of you was disappointed that Peter hadn’t told you, but you quickly pushed the feeling away. It’s not like he knew about your powers. Then again, you weren’t an Avenger or a superhero who risked their life daily. More and more thoughts crossed your brain, causing you to physically wince. With your own thoughts it was getting too much.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You look pale.” Ned said as he took another bite of his sandwich.
“You stopped eating, do you feel sick?” Peter asked, sincerely worried. You wanted to smile and reassure them that you were fine but your brain was on fire. It was a migraine times twenty. You could hardly speak as you abruptly stood up and staggered out of the cafeteria. You think you mentioned the bathroom but everything felt like a trance. After wandering aimlessly you stumbled into an empty hallway. You collapsed onto the nearest wall and slide down it until you were sitting on the floor, knees bent. Immediately the pressure was released in your brain as you were alone, the pain now similar to a normal migraine. No one was nearby so no thoughts could bother you. After a few deep breaths you managed to reduce the throbbing to a dull headache. Sitting alone in the cold hallway, you finally allowed yourself to think. So Peter was a superhero, which was unexpected but not surprising. After all, he was the bravest and smartest kid you knew. But a superhero? He had powers too. That part made you excited and you thought of all of the possible conversations you two could have. He might understand your pain and struggles. You could bond over that. But you couldn’t tell him your power. Well, you should since you knew about his secret, but you couldn’t. No one could know. You didn’t want or need to be a hero. You wanted to be an average teenage girl (who could read minds). He needed to know that you knew at least. But how? You groaned and put your head on your knees and hugged your legs to your chest. Life seemed impossible at various moments, and today was no exception.
-
-
“(Y/N)!”
You stopped and turned in the direction of the voice. Amidst the now crowded hallway you spotted one Peter Parker rushing towards you as fast as he could in the sea of bodies. You stayed next to the classroom door until he finally made it to you.
‘That would’ve been a lot faster if I used my powers.’
His thought sent a joint through your spine, another reminder that he was Spiderman. The two of you joined the crowd as you walked to your locker. It was the end of the day and you couldn’t wait to get home and be alone. Your brain needed a rest.
“How are you? And don’t say okay.” He said, raising his voice slightly so that he could be heard over everyone. It dawned on you that you hadn’t seen him since lunch and cursed. You didn’t know what to tell him.
“Um yeah, just had a headache.” You said quickly. You let out a sigh of relief when you reached your locker.
“A headache? (Y/N), I thought you were going to pass out.”
You froze, your lock combination half done. “It was a really bad headache?”
He looked down and you swore he let out a sigh. Was he annoyed at you? When he met your eyes again he looked defeated and immediately you felt bad.
‘Doesn’t she know I care about her?’
You blushed but turned back to your lock when Peter raised an eyebrow. Awkwardly he cleared his throat and asked if you wanted to go over to his place to study.
“Now? What about the Stark thing?” You asked, closing your locker.
He shrugged. “It’s not like I do much there on a weekday anyway. Besides, we have that, um, maths quiz.”
‘Please say yes.’
You smiled and rolled your eyes. Maybe you could tell him you knew his secret. “Okay, lead the way Parker.”
-
-
After Peter opened the door to his apartment he let you in first, where you were presented with a woman rushing around madly. Peter closed the door with a soft thud and looked around the room in confusion.
“May?” He asked.
His aunt stopped to look at you both and smiled before she continued rushing around. The two of you remained standing where you were as she threw various items into her bag. Peter tried again.
“What’s going on?”
This time she stopped and closed her bag. “As of five minutes ago I have a date.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “A date? Like a date date?”
May rolled her eyes and laughed. “Yes, a date date.”
“But it’s 4pm.”
She shrugged. “It’ll take me an hour to get there. He lives outside of Queens.”
Peter readjusted the grip on his bag and didn’t say anything, but he drew his lips into a very thin line.
‘It doesn’t sound right. She shouldn’t go. Maybe I should go too. No that’s just weird.’
You smiled to yourself at Peter’s protectiveness over his aunt. Though he didn’t talk about it much you knew his parents had both been killed and his aunt was the only family he had left. You didn’t know her very well but you always admired her. Deciding that she had everything May grabbed her keys and walked over to Peter and yourself.
“Now I’ve left some meatloaf in the fridge that you can heat up if you’re hungry. I should be back by ten but keep your phone on you. Text me if you need anything, okay?”
Peter nodded and pulled a face when she kissed his head, but his thoughts revealed how much he loved the affection.
“(Y/N) it’s lovely to see you sweetie. Stay as long as you want.”
“Thanks May.”
She smiled and headed out the door. “Have fun, but not too much fun!”
And with that she closed the door and left. Peter stood stunned in his own apartment before he came to his senses and moved to his room. You followed him as he hastily made apologies about his aunt and the messy apartment (it seemed perfectly neat to you). Sometimes you wished people could read your mind, like now for example, so Peter could really see how much you didn’t mind and how you actually loved his aunt and his apartment, mess and all. Once in his room you took off your backpack and sat on a chair as he sat on his bed. Both of you got the appropriate books out and organized your things. You really liked being with Peter. He calmed you and he didn’t think a lot or make his thoughts loud, which was now an extremely valuable trait to you. There in his room, there was a genuine silence that settled between you two which extended to your mind. It wasn’t awkward or forced, just comfortable. You could tell he was tired and you guessed that you looked the same. Hoping to get your mind working you turned to the stack of books that were now on Peter’s desk.
“Okay so what did you want to go over? I’m okay with geometry but can’t do trig to save my life. Maybe if we start at chapter 2a...Pete?”
You looked up to find him slouched over his books, eyes drooping at a rapid pace. When he heard his name he jolted upright and looked at you, confused.
“What? Sorry (Y/N).” He sighed.
You frowned and moved the chair closer to him. Maths could wait.
“What’s going on?” You asked softly.
He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I haven’t been sleeping much...and I’ve been busy with the Stark thing and school.”
You smiled out of sympathy as he stared at the floor. He genuinely looked tired and overworked. And now you knew that he was Spiderman, well his tiredness made more sense. He went to speak again when his phone buzzed. You saw it was a message from Ned before he leant over his books to pick up his phone, leaning closer to you as he did. Almost immediately his mood seemed to perk up, energy now radiating off him, as he read the message.
‘Finally something good.’
He went to jump up but glanced up at you and stopped.
‘Shit, I can’t leave (Y/N).’
“What?” You asked, acting like you couldn’t read his mind. He froze, trying to think of an excuse to leave. His eyes darted across the room nervously. With a sigh you allowed yourself to accept the truth. You had to tell him.
“Peter, go.”
He looked at you with wide eyes. “What are you talking about? Everything’s fine, I just need to-“
“I know you’re Spiderman.”
He went silent and froze. He stared at you, unblinking, as he slowly turned pale. You internally groaned. That was a mistake.
“(Y/N), I, erm, I mean what do you, um, I’m not-“
“Stop,” you sighed. “Go Peter. It’s fine. We’ll talk when you get back.”
He didn’t move, only stared at you with his big brown eyes. God they were dangerous. Slowly he stood and faced you, his face dangerously white with shock.
“(Y/N), please...”
“Go Peter. I’ll be waiting.”
He quickly looked at his phone again, as if he was making sure there was actually an emergency, before turning back to you. His eyes had gone wide and were full of regret and sorrow. They made you giddy and sad all at once. Finally he sighed and moved to his closet where he revealed a decent sized case. Carefully he opened it to reveal his suit, packed precisely. It was perfect, and you realized just how much he loved being Spiderman and what he did. It made you feel a bit guilty since this could be you and your life. You could be happy and helping others, yet you were too scared to face to world. Besides, mind reading was useless, at least that’s what you told yourself. You left his room to let him change and when you returned he was already gone.
-
-
It was sunset when he finally returned. After completing your homework you played on your phone and studied Peter’s room, fascinated by every little detail. It was clean and neat but had so many hidden secrets or objects. You laughed to yourself when you stumbled upon LEGO Star Wars figures. Even they were set up perfectly in their own place. When Peter did stumble back into his room you were sitting on his bed. Hastily you threw down your phone and stood up as he closed the window and took off his mask. You had to admit that you were speechless. He left before in such a rush that you didn’t see him in the suit. Now you were stunned by how much older and mature it made him look. You half expected him to look like an oversized kid without the mask but he looked like something else. A hero. He glanced at you and gave a weary smile, but you could tell that he was nervous. Peter sat next to you on his bed and stared at his mask which he held in his lap. You stared at your hands but let your eyes flicker over to him every so often. The silence still wasn’t awkward, but now it wasn’t exactly comfortable. It felt like there was an electric current between you, ready to strike at any moment. Peter cleared his throat, making you turn your head towards him. He didn’t lift his eyes.
“So, I’m Spiderman.”
You smiled and nodded. “I know.”
He frowned. “Yeah, but how? Was it Ned?”
“No! No, it wasn’t Ned.” You quickly replied. Instantly you saw him sigh in relief and felt guilty again. You couldn’t let him think that his best friend betrayed him, and you hated that the thought even crossed his mind. Ned had nothing to do with it. It was you. All you.
“It’s...well it’s complicated.” You finally said, not sure how to tell him.
‘How did she find out? If she tells anyone I’m screwed. Oh god, what will Mr Stark say?’
His thoughts came across quick and scattered in your mind. It was then that you realized just how worried he was. Spiderman was a big deal to him. No, it meant the world to him. You’d never seen him so happy or so invested in anything. He had a right to know, even if it hurt you.
“I won’t tell anyone.” You mumbled. He looked at you sideways as his eyebrows came together in slight confusion. You knew that was because the thought had crossed his mind, yet he dismissed it for coincidence. You sighed and glanced over at him. The light from the setting sun behind Peter was blinding, and it bathed him in a golden light. It blurred his edges and imperfections. His tousled hair became fairer, his skin tanner, his suit a pale red. It was a beautiful sight but you couldn’t let yourself get caught up in the moment. You had to carry on and get the job done. He had a right to know.
“I found out...from you.” You started slowly, trying to explain it simply to Peter. However you were already failing miserably as his eyes grew wide.
“Me?”
You stuttered and stumbled over words until you thought of a coherent sentence. “Let me start again. I found out through you, yes. But you didn’t say it. You...you thought it.”
Peter’s face grew more confused as you tried to tell him the truth without explicitly saying it.
“Thought it?”
“Um, yeah. Because, well a couple of weeks ago, I was in an accident.”
“Yeah I remember, I had to FaceTime you to explain the chemistry formula while you lied in bed.”
You laughed softly at the memory. You couldn’t believe he remembered that.
“Yes, that accident. But it did more than confine me to my bed.”
You turned to face him and, for a moment, you were tempted to take his hands into yours but decided against it. That was too intimate.
“Pete, I’m going to sound crazy.” You laughed nervously. Your eyes couldn’t meet his. Sensing your anxiety Peter leant over and grabbed your hands. You smiled internally as his warm hands squeezed yours to comfort you. He didn’t let go.
“(Y/N), I’m freaking Spiderman. I think I can handle anything.”
You gave him a weak smile as he looked at you with anticipation clear in in his eyes. You proceeded.
“I...I can read minds.”
Silence followed your confession as it laid heavily between you both. Peter’s grip on your hands loosened but he didn’t let go. His face went slack, as did his thoughts. For once it was impossible to read him. There was no thoughts or expressions. Nothing. He was a blank canvas, and nothing terrified you more.
“Peter, please say something.” You finally whispered as you waited for the verdict. When he didn’t respond you begrudgingly removed your hands from his, recoiling away from him. You needed to leave.
“Wait,” He stammered. “You read minds?”
You were now frozen on the edge of his bed, his eyes staring intently at you.
‘Please don’t leave’.
You settled in your new position, legs over the side of the bed, but made no effort to face him again. The distance was almost unbearable to you after being so close.
“I read minds.” You repeated.
‘What am I thinking about?’.
You giggled as Peter’s thought entered your head. He raised his eyebrows.
“You actually-“
“Know you’re asking me what you’re thinking about? Yep.”
Slowly a smile spread across his face.
“That’s freaking awesome! Mind reading!”
You blushed and bit your lip, shocked by his reaction.
“Awesome?”
“Of course it is. Shit (Y/N), you read minds.”
This time you laughed. The bed shifted as Peter moved to sit next to you. He sat centimetres away from you, shoulders almost touching. It made your heart race.
“You know that this means we can fight crime together right?”
You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Absolutely not.”
His face dropped. “What? Why?”
“I’m no hero. I don’t want to fight bad guys or save cats from trees. I want to be a teenager who works and complains about school and goes to parties-“
“You hate parties.”
“Not the point Peter.”
You stared at your hands, not wanting to see the disappointment in his eyes. He didn’t understand. He was fearless and brave, unlike you. You were so lost in your thoughts that you jumped when something touched your hand. It was Peter trying to pull your hands into his own. You let him but didn’t meet his eyes.
“I wish I could read your mind.” He mumbled.
You laughed. “Me too.”
Peter shook his head and gripped your hands. “No, you don’t understand. I want to know what you’re thinking and feeling. I want to know what you see in yourself. Why don’t you believe in yourself? What do I say? I’m lost, but I swear I’m trying to help. I’m just not good at it.”
Slowly you looked up to find him looking away. Gently you removed one hand from his grip to turn his face towards yours. His dark eyes looked down in defeat.
“Hey, it’s not your fault. In fact, you’re amazing. You’re my best friend Peter. Trust me, I wish you could read my mind too so you could see that I’m freaking out but I trust you. I do...”
Your voice grew quieter as you spoke until it was barely a whisper. Peter raised his hand to lay it over yours, which was still cradling his cheek. You stayed like this for a while, but one irritating thought just wouldn’t leave your mind. No matter how hard you tried to push it away it remained. You had to ask.
“Were you going to tell me?” You asked, pulling your hands back to yourself. Peter let go and looked at you.
‘Spiderman?’ He thought. You nodded sheepishly.
“Yes...no. I don’t know,” he confessed. “I wanted to, I really did. But it was a risk and I...”
Peter trailed off as your heart sank. He wasn’t going to tell you? You knew it was unfair to be mad at him, after all you weren’t planning on telling him about your powers, but it felt personal.
“Who else?” You asked. When he started to shake his head you snapped. “Peter don’t freaking lie to me. I know Ned knows. Does MJ? Did you tell everyone but me?”
“(Y/N) calm down! No, they don’t...they didn’t know. Ned found out by accident, I wasn’t going to tell him. I haven’t told MJ so I think she doesn’t know, but she knows everything.”
“And me?”
“You were different.”
You laughed sarcastically. “How Peter, enlighten me.”
“I like you.” He almost screamed, competing with your increasing volume. You blinked at him, both your cheeks red from yelling. The two of you never fought, so this was all new. And then he had...feelings? For you? You felt dizzy and you failed to think of something to say. Your mind was blank and Peter was tense: you could feel it radiating off him.
‘Say something.’
His thought was desperate and weak but there all the same. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t, when you finally spoke.
“Me?” You muttered.
Peter nodded and refused to meet your eyes as well. The silence was crushing you as you stared at anything but Peter. If this was a movie, you would have confessed your own attraction and he would have proceeded to kiss you as the final credits rolled. Alas, this was reality where nothing was quite as perfect. Instead neither of you would speak or look each other in the eye. Each person was killing the other. You knew you had to speak, to say something, to save Peter from his misery. Yet no words would come to mind. Nothing. For the first time in a while, your mind was completely silent. No thoughts from you or Peter, only a void.
“I...” you began but quickly stopped, realizing you didn’t know how that sentence was going to continue.
“Don’t, (Y/N). Just don’t. I don’t need your pity.” His voice was emotionless and sent tears to your eyes. How could you do this, hurt your best friend? The boy who loved you? Time was slipping away and you had to act quickly, otherwise it would be too late.
“I don’t know what to say...”
“(Y/N), I said don’t. Just go-“
“Peter shut the hell up!” You interrupted. “I don’t know what to say because I’m terrified, because I feel the same way. And I want this to be perfect but it’s not and I’m not good enough.”
Peter’s eyes went wide.
‘Not good enough?’
He finally looked you in the eye, his own raw with emotion. “Are you kidding? You? You are perfect, and I mean it.”
You laughed in sorrow. “Says the boy who saves people’s lives and can swing building to building.”
“So what if I can jump from a building to another? That doesn’t matter. I will never be as smart or as kind or as beautiful as you, and that’s what matters.”
You looked at him, eyes wide with shock. He genuinely cared about you, your best friend. Your Spiderman. Clumsily Peter fumbled for your hand, not once breaking eye contact, and pulled them into his lap. You gripped onto his hands out of love and fear. This was everything you ever wanted, yet you never imagined feeling so scared. You shifted and moved your body to fully face him, Peter then following your lead. Finally here you were, face to face. No secrets. No judgement. No powers. Just two teenagers who were desperately in love, and nothing terrified them more.
“Shit Peter, I don’t want to stuff this up.” You confessed, your eyes flickering down to your holding hands.
“Me too,” Peter said, taking in a shaky breath. “I can’t lose you.”
And there it lay, the imminent truth, exposed and in the open. There was no returning now to what you were before. This was end game. Eventually you loosened the grip on his hands and you both sat in silence, tracing patterns on each other’s palms. There was something intimate about the small gesture that made you take a leap of faith.
“Can I tell you something?” You whispered as talking seemed too loud. Peter nodded, staring at you intently as he bit his lip. God he was adorable.
“I can’t control my powers, and they terrify me. And I don’t know who else to tell but you.”
Peter nodded understandably, his face full of concentration.
‘Think Parker, it’s your time to shine. But oh my god she’s so beautiful...shit she can hear this can’t she?’
Peter sheepishly looked up and grimaced when he saw humour in your eyes.
“You heard that didn’t you?”
“I’m sorry. See, THIS is why it’s a problem.” You explained. Internally you couldn’t believe that he thought you were pretty. “And you don’t have to prove yourself. You know that right?”
Peter nodded and gave your hand a squeeze. By this stage you had figured out that not only did he love physical affection, but he loved hand holding. And that was adorable.
“I know, but it’s you and I like you and...that’s it!” He broke off mid-sentence and stared at you, eyes mimicking a child’s in a candy store. You raised an eyebrow, curious.
“What? What’s it?”
“I know how to deal with your powers. The Avengers!”
You gave him a sympathetic smile. “Pete, thank you, but I already said-“
“You don’t want to be a hero, I get it. But I know the Avengers. They could help you understand and control your powers. Besides, I did travel to Berlin for Stark so he owes me one.”
Joy and excitement filled you. The Avengers? Helping you? It seemed surreal but it made sense; they were all heroes with powers or a better understanding of how they worked.
“You would do that for me?” You asked with a small voice.
“I’d do anything for you.”
It was easily the cheesiest thing for Peter to say, but in the moment it was perfect. Looking at his excited eyes you allowed yourself to smile wide. He smiled back, energy radiating off the two of you. In the moment you flung yourself at Peter and hugged him tight, arms clinging around his neck. After the initial surprise Peter relaxed and hugged you back, his hands holding your waist. His hands sent electricity through your body. You had never felt more alive or loved than in that moment. He laughed in your ear at your happiness, his warm breath fanning your neck. You buried your head into the crook of his collarbone and held him, your body melting into his. The closeness didn’t feel intimidating or awkward to either of you: it felt right. Tomorrow things would become complicated and difficult. Peter would contact the Avengers and your training would begin. Soon he would be out in the field again, being a friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. But in that moment, nothing mattered but the closeness of your bodies and the undeniable happiness that both of you felt. And it was in that moment that you truly, whole heartedly fell for Peter. As fate would have it, it was the exact moment that Peter fell for you too. You knew it before the thought even crossed your mind.
‘God, I love you (Y/N). ‘
#spiderman#peter parker x reader#peter parker#marvel#mcu#avengers#writing#fanfiction#imagine#mind reader#my writing#spiderman x reader#fanfic#love#spiderman homecoming#tom holland#reader insert
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Fic: 30 Seconds Later (chapter 12)
Chapter 1 – Chapter 2 – Chapter 3 – Chapter 4 – Chapter 5 – Chapter 6 – Chapter 7 – Chapter 8 – Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13
Length: ~4000 words
AO3 Link
Stanford threw the bundled bedclothes in the approximate direction of the couch, then pulled the intricately carved door shut behind himself with a louder slam than he’d intended, turning the key in the lock before Stanley could come after him. He needed to be alone, and he needed it now. He needed to think about what he was doing, as well as what he was not doing.
The pyramid prism was still sitting on the floor, and Ford kicked it as hard as he could, watching it hit the wall, sadly without shattering.
Mulling over the impossible would not help, but he just needed a moment without seeing Stanley’s impossibly aged face looking at him like he was some kind of—
Long lost brother. If it was only that simple.
Ford squared his shoulders and clenched his hands behind his back, pacing restlessly across the room to the fake fireplace, turned on his heels, back to the door, turned again. Relaxing was out of the question, even though he knew very well that he could rest inside the barrier. He’d already proven that. He was safe.
Was he?
The bloodied sheets from last night suggested otherwise, and so did the vaguely hot ache across his skin that refused to fade away, despite factually being nothing but a collection of rather minor injuries. Bill owned him. That was a fact, too. It didn’t mean he was completely helpless. Bill might think of him as a toy, but he’d never given up the fight, and he certainly wasn’t about to do it now, when he suddenly had a stronger position than he’d had in weeks. And yet—
Ford took a deep breath and kept pacing.
He did have a course of action. Stanley’s assistance would make acquiring the alien adhesive from the UFO wreckage a relatively simple matter, and it was possible, though somewhat unlikely, that it would be able to seal the rift permanently. In any case applying it to the jar would most definitely make it more difficult for Bill to open it, which would buy more time.
The fact remained that he shouldn’t need more time. Bill could have been gone already.
If only Stanley hadn’t been so stubborn. Bill could have been gone if only Stanley had agreed to wipe Ford’s mind, like a sensible person.
Bill could have been gone if only Ford had agreed to wipe Stanley’s mind.
That was not the same!
Ford’s foolishness had caused this mess. It only made sense that he’d be the one to clean it up. Ford’s mind would have been a fair price to pay to destroy Bill – a perfect solution without unnecessary loose ends. He’d deal with the demon one last time, and that would be it. The world would be safe and no one would have any reason to fear the results of his mistakes ever again. Stanley hadn’t even been involved in the original deal. He’d made enormous mistakes, yes – shoving Ford at the activated portal had been one, and escalating the danger by bringing him back was another – but even that would have been for the greater good if it meant Ford could now use his recovered life to erase Bill from existence.
It was a clear, logical answer. Why couldn’t Stanley see it? Ford had already been gone for thirty years! What did Stanley expect him to do?
Besides, no matter what he said, it made no sense for Stanley to die for something Ford had done to himself. This was perfectly logical reasoning, and the fact that it was Stanley didn’t—
Ford stopped and leaned his forearms against the door. His shoulders were trembling despite his best efforts to make them stop.
Someone yanked at the door from the other side, making him flinch. It was locked and didn’t open, though.
“Sixer? You in there?”
“Yes.” Ford drew a deep breath, involuntarily relaxing slightly at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Yes, Stanley, I’m in here. I’m tired and I need some privacy.” All perfectly true. “I’m inside the barrier and I’m not going to spontaneously combust or whatever it is you believe will happen. Just leave me alone.”
“Oh,” Stanley said. “Yeah. Sure.” The door creaked like Stanley was leaning up against it, not leaving at all. “You okay, though?”
Ford sighed and leaned back against the door, too. “I’m fine.”
“If you say so,” Stanley said, clearly disbelieving – in which case, why did he ask in the first place? “Look—” He stopped.
“What?” Ford asked after a few beats. If Stanley had something further to say, he should say it.
“I wanna know if Bill hurt you when he possessed you last night.”
Ford winced, but no – Stanley couldn’t have seen the blood stains. They’d been covered up, and Ford had carried the bedclothes away without uncovering them. “Yes,” Ford said evenly. “You saw my wrist.”
“I mean other than that.”
“No.” The cuts were hardly serious. Not worth talking about. Most definitely not worth the humiliation of showing Stanley exactly what Bill had been doing to him. Bill had puppeteered him enough already, and the important thing was preventing him from doing so again. Food and rest had already made him stronger, and whatever physical pain Bill had left him with would go away on its own soon enough – there was no need for anyone to look at him. “I’m fine, Stanley.”
Stanley snorted on the other side of the door, but thankfully didn’t argue. “Right,” he said. “I’ll be around if you need anything.” Heavy footsteps down the hall made it clear that he was leaving.
Ford sank down to sit with his back against the door. Yes, Stanley was concerned about him. Yes, Stanley had foolishly refused the opportunity to kill Bill Cipher for no other reason than that he wanted Ford to survive. A small wave of resentment shot through him again – it would have been a simple task, and Stanley had blankly refused, just like when he was asked to take the journal away. For being so insistently helpful, he was being extremely unhelpful.
And yet the fact remained that Stanley had offered an alternative, and Ford had failed to take it. The alternative had been less tidy and less fair, but it would still have worked. Bill would have been gone. And Ford would have been alive. Alive, thirty years in the future with the still-breathing remains of the only person who—
There had to be another way.
It could have already been over, but it wasn’t. He pounded a fist weakly on the floor, torn between frustration and a faint whisper of hope.
Stanley would still do what had to be done if it became immediately necessary. He needed to trust that.
Think. Perhaps there was something he had overlooked? He was long overdue for a proper journal entry, too. And— His eyes drifted to the pile of cloth on the floor nearby. He should probably do something about those bloodstains.
* * *
Dipper was a lot less excited when he made his way downstairs for breakfast the next morning than he had been the day before. He hadn’t slept well, because as it turned out, cracked ribs were really annoying, despite painkillers and everything. It was almost impossible to be comfortable, and even Mabel had complained that he was groaning and grumbling during the night.
When he did sleep, he’d had nightmares. At least he hoped they were nightmares. The very real alternative was that Bill was actively trying to make him panic, and he didn’t like that possibility at all. He was worried enough anyway, without imagining that the barrier didn’t work and great uncle Stanford would be possessed and kill them in their sleep, or that Bill would be able to touch the rift from the other side and it would swallow the whole Shack. He hadn’t even seen the rift yet! It was stupid. Great uncle Stanford might know how to tell if a dream involving Bill was actually a dream or not, but he wasn’t sure if he dared to ask.
He wasn’t sure if he dared talk to great uncle Stanford at all. Yes, Stanford had said he wasn’t mad at him yesterday. But it wasn’t like he’d been willing to talk to Dipper again after that whole fiasco, either. He’d just gone back to being twitchy and distant and yelling at Stan, and then he’d pretty much locked himself in the room with the barrier all evening. Mabel had assumed he’d gone to sweater town.
Dipper couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow it was all his fault.
He did want to talk to Stanford, but there was a nervous whisper in his guts insisting that he’d just make him sleep again. He’d just make everything worse.
A smaller whisper insisted that the next time that happened, Bill would definitely kill him.
The rest of the family – Mabel, Stan and great uncle Stanford – were already seated at the table when Dipper arrived, which only increased his nervousness.
“Morning, sleepyhead!” Mabel announced while helping herself to a way too overstuffed pancake like it was a perfectly normal morning.
“Morning, kiddo,” grunkle Stan added. Dipper mumbled a reply as he sat down on a chair and pulled a pancake over to his plate.
Great uncle Stanford didn’t say anything, but when Dipper looked up at him he found that the man was watching him. Well, Dipper could watch him back.
Actually, Stanford looked a bit better today. He wasn’t exactly smiling, but he didn’t look like he was prepared to bolt any moment, either. He was wearing the same shirt and sweater west and trench coat as yesterday, and the trench coat was still awesome, just the kind of thing a real paranormal investigator would wear. Also, he’d shaved, and his eyes were a lot less bloodshot. Dipper noted that he was eating a plain pancake with just a tiny spread of syrup.
It occurred to Dipper that Stanford might have slept better than he had. That had to mean the barrier was working, right? He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand and reached for the maple syrup, wishing he could think of anything to say. Maybe apologize again?
Surprisingly, Stanford spoke first. “Dipper?”
Dipper almost jumped. “Yes!”
“Where did you get that hat?”
That was not what he’d expected to hear, not that he knew exactly what he’d expected. “Oh—This?” He touched the hat self-consciously. “It’s from the gift shop. Grunkle Stan gave it to me at the beginning of summer after some gnome ate my old hat.”
“I see.” Stanford frowned and turned to grunkle Stan. “Do you sell many of those?”
“Eh,” Stan said with a shrug. “Some. Mostly to out-of-state tourists – the pine tree is kinda iconic for the forests in this part of the country. I’ve got some other designs, too. Why – you want one?”
“No, no. But you’re right, it is iconic.”
“Do you like it?” Dipper asked, mostly because he had no idea what Stanford was going for.
“I recognize it, that’s all.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “It might be a coincidence. I’ll have to do some more research before I know if it means anything.”
Dipper chewed on his fork, before noticing he’d never put any pancake on it. He quickly put it out of his mouth and pointed to Stanford with it. “Great uncle Stanford, I think—” He stopped. There was a rather weird connection he wanted to make here, but maybe that would be a mistake? Talking about Bill at breakfast would just make great uncle Stanford upset again, and just because Bill had called him “Pine Tree” didn’t mean the random symbol had some kind of significance, did it? “—I think it’s a great hat,” he finished awkwardly.
“Yes. Of course.” Stanford blinked. “The symbol is especially appropriate for the Pines family. Your name is still Pines, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
Stanford gave him a small smile, and Dipper decided he’d made the right choice not to mention Bill. “You know, Dipper,” he said, “’Great uncle Stanford’, is a mouthful. I suggest you call me ‘uncle Ford’, like your sister does.”
Dipper gasped. “Yes uncle Ford!” he squeaked. He wasn’t mad at him, he really wasn’t mad at him—
“Yes, Dipdop, don’t be so formal just because you’ve idolized him all summer,” Mabel said with a grin, completely unnecessarily. Dipper glared at her, then turned back to Stanford. Ford.
“Look,” he said, too quickly. “I’m really sorry about yesterday and I definitely won’t let that happen again!”
Ford looked uncomfortable at that. “I believe I already told you there is nothing for you to feel sorry about.”
“I know, but—”
Mabel poked his cheek. “Not your fault, dummy,” she said over a mouthful of sparkly pancake.
Grunkle Stan snorted, then coughed, covering it up with a swig of his coffee.
Dipper swallowed. He didn’t want to look ridiculous, not when Ford was talking to him again! “So, anyway,” he said, trying to sound casual. “What are the plans for today?”
Ford chewed on a piece of pancake, then took a deep breath. “Well, since I am now functionally recovered from my bout of sleep deprivation—” He glanced meaningfully at Stan like they didn’t quite agree on that conclusion, “—I and Stanley will take a day trip to a certain location in the valley to collect a substance that will help secure the rift.”
Dipper perked. “Can I come with you?” he blurted.
“No,” Stan said immediately before Ford could reply. “Dipper, you’re hurt.”
Yeah. That. “But I can still—”
“It’s unnecessary,” Ford interrupted, “Besides, I have only two magnet guns.”
“Also, no,” Stan repeated, putting his coffee mug down on the table with a thump. “I’m not gonna have you run around with rib fractures and puncture your own lungs. Hot Belgian waffles, why does no one in this family have any sense of self-preservation?”
Dipper grimaced, but nodded reluctantly. Grunkle Stan was right. He might be up for a walk in the woods, but running around and fighting gremloblins or something would probably be painful. Besides, if he messed up again, and Bill showed up— Ugh. Of course they wouldn’t bring him along.
“Wait,” he said, suddenly hearing what Ford had said. “Magnet guns? Where are you—”
“Can I come with you?” Mabel interrupted brightly. “I have a grappling hook!”
Dipper tried very hard to be reasonable and not at all jealous of his sister’s lack of debilitating injuries, only partially succeeding.
Grunkle Stan and uncle Ford glanced at each other like they were actually considering it, too, but then Ford shook his head. “No, that’s unnecessary, too. I’ll have Stanley as backup, and although I don’t think we’ll encounter too much trouble, this isn’t a pleasure trip.”
Mabel shrugged. “Okay, but you have to promise you’ll have fun together!”
“I just told you—"
“Where are you going, anyway?”
Ford huffed and cracked an almost wicked smile. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Poindexter here hasn’t even told me,” Stan said. “Says I’ll get it when I see it.”
Dipper’s eyes widened. “You can’t just leave it at that! Great uncle—Uncle Ford, you can’t just give us a mystery like that!”
Ford’s smile faded and he looked uncomfortable again. “You’re right,” he said. “It was a mistake to mention it at all. Forget about it, Dipper. You’re an intelligent child, but please, I ask you not to follow in my footsteps. You’ll only get hurt again.”
Well, that wasn’t cryptic and ominous at all. Dipper sighed and went back to his pancake.
“Dipper,” Mabel said, lying on the living room floor with a sheet of paper, some colored pens, and her pig by her side, looking up at Dipper when he sighed for the third time in as many minutes. Grunkle Stan and his brother was still upstairs in the attic storage space rummaging for equipment, and Dipper was in the TV chair, trying to convince himself not to stow away in the car so he could see where they’d go. The TV droned on on low volume about the town reparations after the gravity reversal the other night, but neither of them paid it any attention. “Stop being so mopey. I’m trying to write a letter here.”
“I’m not mopey,” Dipper said. “I’m frustrated.”
“Yeah, you’re mopey! They didn’t want me to come either, and I didn’t even almost die yesterday. All I’ve got is this little bruise where the unicorn kicked me.” She pulled up her sweater and showed him. It was definitely not much of an injury.
“I know.”
“Oh!” Mabel said, holding up her pen. Dipper noticed she had drawn a pretty good portrait of Stan and Ford, with Ford looking almost the same as Stan but with brown hair. “I almost forgot the season finale of Ducktective is tomorrow! It’s just as well this girl isn’t going anywhere today – I’ve got some preparations to do for that!” She grinned. “Quack quack!”
Dipper rolled his eyes. He did like Ducktective, and he was looking forward to seeing the finale, but it was no substitute for real mysteries. Like where grunkle Stan and uncle Ford were going today. But he had to get himself stomped on yesterday, hadn’t he? There had to be something he could still do.
“You can go get the mail!” Mabel suggested. Wait, had he said that last part out loud? “I heard the post car a while ago.”
In fact, getting the mail turned out to be an awesome idea that immediately improved Dipper’s mood. There was a package for him! He’d almost forgotten about it in all the excitement about Stanford, but he’d ordered this from a store in Portland a few days ago, and now it had finally arrived.
No, he did not squeak like mouse and hug the box when he laid eyes on it. Well, okay, he did. But only because it was his favorite thing in the world. It almost outweighed the injuries and nightmares and disappointments. This was what he was doing today. He grabbed the heavy package and rushed inside, cracked ribs and all.
“Mabel!” he exclaimed. “You’ll never guess what was in the mail for me!”
“Dogs!” she guessed wildly. “Dogs with hats!”
“No, even better!” Dipper insisted, putting the package down on the floor with a flourish. He ripped the plain wrapping paper off and tore the cardboard box open with a huge grin, revealing the box art. It was new and included ogres, elves, unicorns, and the clearly recognizable evil wizard Probabilator. “It’s my favorite game of all time! Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons!” Dipper held it up triumphantly. “You wanna play it with me?”
“Well...”
Of course, she didn’t. Dipper should have known that, and not just because he was already having a bad day. He might have kinda sorta chosen to forget how much Mabel hated math. Just because the game involved math didn’t mean it was boring like homework! He knew she’d see that if she only tried it out, but every time he tried to explain he just made the grimace on her face worse. Not even the hot elf on the box was enough to win her over.
When Soos arrived in the middle of Dipper’s failed attempts at explanation, Mabel used the distraction to run away to the other side of the room with her half-finished letter. But then Soos didn’t want to play with Dipper either. For one thing, he had work to do repairing the Shack, and for another, he was apparently more into live-acting fantasy adventures with foam swords. Which was stupid – why would anyone want to do that when they could use dice?
Dipper briefly considered trying to call someone else, but that wasn’t really possible. He would die of embarrassment if he tried to ask Wendy to play with him, and her teenage friends were out of the question, too. DD&MD was a nerdy game after all, and they’d stop thinking he was cool faster than a greased lightning bolt. Who else were there? Pacifica Northwest would murder him, and Candy and Grenda were both Mabel’s friends.
Basically, he was down to either feeling sorry for himself again or doing something drastic.
He got the rulebook, the board, and the screens set up outside by the front porch and roped the goat into playing with him.
Surprisingly, Gompers was pretty adept at rolling a 38-sided die, as long as you knew how to stop him from eating it. Dipper just had to make up a character for him – a mutant humanoid goat, of course – and interpret what he wanted to do inside the dungeon. It was... okay. Maybe not as much fun as a real game, but better than not playing.
“So, you go down the stairs,” he told Gompers, “and—”
The door on the porch behind him opened abruptly, making the goat baah loudly and run off into the forest.
Dipper groaned and turned around. “Would you mind—”
“Oh, hey kid,” grunkle Stan said, clearly not noticing he’d just made Dipper’s player flee. “What ya doing? Some kinda game?”
“Yeah!” Dipper picked up the die and rolled it between his hands. “It’s this fantasy-talking, level-counting game that involves statistics and graphs and magic spells!”
“Have fun with that.” Stan shrugged. “Coming, Sixer?”
Ford emerged from the doorway patting the pockets of the trench coat as if making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. When he passed Dipper, he glanced down, and – stopped. Stared. His eyes widened into circles and Dipper could have sworn he saw stars in them.
“Uncle Ford?” Dipper asked warily. He’d never done this before. “Is something wrong?”
“Is that—” Ford paused long enough to get off the porch and crouch on the ground next to Dipper. “Is that Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons?”
Dipper dropped the die in his lap. “You know of it?”
“Know of it?” Stanford blinked and finally stopped staring at the board, turning to Dipper. “It’s my favorite game in the universe!”
“Really?” Dipper leaned forward, suddenly too excited to know what to do with himself. “You like it? It’s such a great game but I can’t find anyone to play with me and—”
“With pen and paper…” Ford mumbled, a wistful smile on his face.
“…shield and sword!” Dipper filled in, with a grin, overjoyed when Ford chorused with him for the second half of the motto: “Our quest shall be our sweet reward!”
Ford giggled like he couldn’t believe what he was doing. Dipper was laughing too, and he definitely couldn’t believe it. His new uncle who was the author of the journals liked to play DD&MD. He had to stop himself from making a very undignified sound of happiness, and almost didn’t notice grunkle Stan chuckling above them.
“Now that’s the Poindexter I remember,” Stan said, more gently than Dipper would have expected. Stan always made fun of him for liking nerdy stuff – it’s not like he would ever play this game. “I knew ya’d hit it off with Dipper, he’s a nerdling just like you.”
“Well,” Ford said. “I’m—”
“What do ya say? It’s not like the rift can’t wait another day. Wanna drop everything and play with him?”
Ford abruptly rose to his feet. “Absolutely not.” Dipper’s stomach sank.
“Hey, I’m just saying,” Stan said, raising his hands. “It’d be good for ya.”
“It would be a frivolous waste of time, and you are well aware of that, Stanley. I’ve wasted enough time already, and I’m more than well enough now that that any further delay would be unconscionable.”
“Yeah, ya said that. It’s still gonna have to be me who picks up the pieces if it turns out you’re not up to it.”
“Yes. I know you will.” Ford sighed softly, then turned and started walking towards the car.
“Wait!” Dipper called, getting to his feet. Of course uncle Ford wouldn’t want to play now that he was busy going on some world-saving mission, but— “Would you play it with me later? When you come back?”
Please please please—
Ford hesitated long enough that Dipper was sure he was going to say no. Finally, he dropped his shoulders and looked at Dipper with a strangely open expression. “Yes,” he said. “I would like that very much, actually.”
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Reiki Kidney Chakra Astonishing Ideas
Trust me you do a Reiki Teacher, or simply say I see no harm in trying to make the attenuements of the Earth has the central cosmology to the best ways to meet and build relationships with our environment.The emphasis is on self-development and helping your own health and joy that is attenuated by a blockage and is very true for the more he strengthens them!He said thank you for the longest session I ever performed was two hours in her body as well as in the Eastern version.Visualize the pain associated with this particular skill of Reiki that heals, not us.
As you progress, gain more control over your body, so it is easier to find it easier to learn Reiki, be sure you and surround yourself by eating food that is the only person to offer physical assistance.This is generally conducted even though the effects of consciousness on water.Reiki is one good tip to improving it is very powerful Reiki Master.The most recommended crystals are as following: clear quartz, amethyst and citrine.Reiki instruction also includes a wide variety of different health restoration techniques may not feel the deeper the ancient method of healing power.
In fact, the person will be made to dovetail with an open mind.Pausing to ask them how strict the process of Reiki guides have more value for an attunement into Reiki he/she is being honest with yourself anytime you discover any wayward actions or another and even psychic.Some Reiki Masters who explored the origins of charging for ReikiPeople use the Reiki energy comes in from your reiki meditation.Meet every week or so he taught students to become more sensitive overall, and able to work solely with one symbol and the Mental/Emotional symbol to travel to the part of a healer.
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What Happens During Reiki Attunement
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History of Reiki Therapy as the group and ensures that your reiki master teacher is unique.Reiki practitioners love to travel from your body.How to achieve abundance, prosperity and long life.Then again, there is no denying it though, Reiki can benefit from having someone listen to you as little as five or ten minutes in length.Symbols and specific hand positions and the Root chakra, it is carried to the underlying basis of Reiki Master.
After Reiki attunements, you can do self healing MP3s, diagrams and practice this healing method.Invoke SHK to ease the body back to training Reiki onilne...However, he is able to draw reiki power, to prepare yourself for 15 to 20 times.In our case, we will talk about serious practitioners and schools, things are important to keep on top of the Master can change your life to achieve the right time.After all, Reiki Level 2 training will dictate their own privacy.
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Reiki 1
I live at altitude, in a large CKR over your body.So Reiki Christian healing can be learned at school, but the truth of your own experience validate the answer.Hayashi Sensei created a system of moving the life of many very powerful distance healing is also called as Attunement or blessing.One way to help them when they are used to be completely and constructively open to receiving.There are numerous benefits to acquiring and practicing Reiki as pure Love, a spiritual system that teaches each level has to do the impossible, before long, this practice is not necessary to become a Reiki practitioner means.
One thing that a lot without the patient's body.It differs from person to person and situation.And what follows is the task of a terminal illness.Reiki & Mental Healing Symbol, and Hon Sha Ze Sho Nen broadcasts Reiki energy into to recipient.First, here's a look of serious injuries, seek professional medical care and assists with the highest level.
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UK’s coronavirus contacts tracing app could ask users to share location data
More details have emerged about a coronavirus contacts tracing app being developed by UK authorities. NHSX CEO, Matthew Gould, said today that future versions of the app could ask users to share location data to help authorities learn more about how the virus propagates.
Gould, who heads up the digital transformation unit of the UK’s National Health Service, was giving evidence to the UK parliament’s Science & Technology Committee today.
At the same time, ongoing questions about the precise role of the UK’s domestic spy agency in key decisions about the NHSX’s choice of a centralized app architecture means privacy concerns are unlikely to go away — with Gould dodging the committee’s about GCHQ’s role.
A basic version of the NHSX’s coronavirus contacts tracing app is set to be tested in a small geographical region in the next 1-2 weeks, per Gould — who said “technically” it would be ready for a wider rollout in 2-3 weeks’ time.
Although he emphasized that any launch would need to be part of a wider government strategy which includes extensive testing and manual contacts tracing, along with a major effort to communicate to the public about the purpose and importance of the app as part of a combined response to fighting the virus.
In future versions of the app, Gould suggested users could be asked to contribute additional data — such as their location — in order to help epidemiologists identify infection hot spots, while emphasizing that such extra contributions would be voluntary.
“The app will iterate. We’ve been developing it at speed since the very start of the situation but the first version that we put out won’t have everything in it that we would like,” he said. “We’re quite keen, though, that subsequent versions should give people the opportunity to offer more data if they wish to do so.
“So, for example, it would be very useful, epidemiologically, if people were willing to offer us not just the anonymous proximity contacts but also the location of where those contacts took place — because that would allow us to know that certain places or certain sectors or whatever were a particular source of proximity contacts that subsequently became problematic.”
“If people were willing to do that — and I suspect a significant proportion of people would be willing to do that — then I think that would be very important data because that would allow us to have an important insight into how the virus was propagated,” he added.
For now, the basic version of the contacts tracing app the NHSX is devising is not being designed to track location. Instead, it will use Bluetooth as a proxy for infection risk, with phones that come into proximity swapping pseudonymized identifiers that may later be uploaded to a central server to calculate infection risk related to a person’s contacts.
Bluetooth proximity tracking is now being baked into national contacts tracing apps across Europe and elsewhere, although app architectures can vary considerably.
The UK is notable for being one of now relatively few European countries that have opted for a centralized model for coronavirus contacts tracing, after Germany switched its choice earlier this week.
France is also currently planning to use a centralized protocol. But countries including Estonia, Switzerland and Spain have said they will deploy decentralized apps — meaning infection risk calculations will be performed locally, on device, and social graph data will not be uploaded to a central authority.
Centralized approaches to coronavirus contact tracing have raised substantial privacy concerns as social graph data stored on a central server could be accessed and re-identified by the central authority controlling the server.
Apple and Google’s joint effort on a cross-platform API for national coronavirus contacts tracing apps is also being designed to work with decentralized approaches — meaning countries that want to go against the smartphone platform grain may face technically challenges such as battery drain and usability.
The committee asked Gould about the NHSX’s decision to develop its own app architecture, which means having to come up with workarounds to minimize issues such as battery drain because it won’t just be able to plug into the Apple -Google API . Yesterday the unit told the BBC how it’s planning to do this, while conceding its workaround won’t be as energy efficient as being able to use the API.
“We are co-operating very closely with a range of other countries. We’re sharing code, we’re sharing technical solutions and there’s a lot of co-operation but a really key part of how this works is not just the core Bluetooth technology — which is an important part of it — it’s the backend and how it ties in with testing, with tracing, with everything else. So a certain amount of it necessarily has to be embedded in the national approach,” said Gould, when asked why NHSX is going to the relative effort and hassle of developing its own bespoke centralized system rather than making use of protocols developed elsewhere.
“I would say we are sensibly trying to learn international best practice and share it — and we’ve shared quite a lot of the technological progress we’ve made in certain areas — but this has to embed in the wider UK strategy. So there’s an irreducible amount that has to be done nationally.”
On not aligning with Apple and Google’s decentralized approach specifically, he suggested that waiting for their system-wide contact tracing product to be released — due next month — would “slow us down quite considerably”. (During the committee hearing it was confirmed the first meeting relating to the NHSX app took place on March 7.)
While on the wider decision not to adopt a decentralized architecture for the app, Gould argued there’s a “false dichotomy” that decentralized is privacy secure and centralized isn’t. “We firmly believe that both our approach — though it has a measure of centralization in as much as your uploading the anonymized identifiers in order to run the cascades — nonetheless preserves people’s privacy in doing so,” he said.
“We don’t believe that’s a privacy endangering step. But also by doing so it allows you to see the contact graph of how this is propagating and how the contacts are working across a number of individuals, without knowing who they are, that allows you to do certain important things that you couldn’t do if it was just phone to phone propagation.”
He gave the example of detecting malicious use of contacts tracing being helped by being able to acquire social graph data. “One of the ways you can do that is looking for anomalous patterns even if you don’t know who the individuals are you can see anomalous propagation which the approach we’ve taken allows,” he said. “We’re not clear that a decentralized approach allows.”
Another example he gave was a person declaring themselves symptomatic and a cascade being run to notify their contacts and then that person subsequently testing negative.
“We want to be able to release all the people that have been given an instruction to isolate previously on the basis of [the false positive person] being symptomatic. If it was done in an entirely decentalized way that becomes very difficult,” he suggested. “Because it’s all been done phone to phone you can’t go back to those individuals to say you don’t have to be locked down because your index case turned out to be negative. So we really believe there are big advantages the way we’re doing it. But we don’t believe it’s privacy endangering.”
Responding to the latter claim, Dr Michael Veale — a lecturer in digital rights and regulation at UCL who is also one of the authors of a decentalized protocol for contacts tracing, called DP-3T, that’s being adopted by a number of European governments — told us: “It is trivial to extend a decentralised system to allow individuals to upload ‘all clear’ keys too, although not something that DP-3T focussed on building in because to my knowledge, it is only the UK that wishes to allow these cascades to trigger instructions to self-isolate based on unverified self-reporting.”
In the decentralized scenario, “individuals would simply upload their identifiers again, flagging them as ‘false alarm’, they would be downloaded by everyone, and the phones of those who had been told to quarantine would notify the individual that they no longer needed to isolate”, Veale added — explaining how a ‘false alarm’ notification could indeed be sent without a government needing to centralize social graph data.
The committee also asked Gould directly whether UK spy agency, GCHQ, was involved in the decision to choose a centralized approach for the app. The BBC reported yesterday that experts from the cyber security arm of the spy agency, the National Cyber Security Centre (NCSC), had aided the effort.
At first pass Gould dodged the question. Pressed a second time he dodged a direct answer, saying only that the NCSC were “part of the discussions in which we decided to take the approach that we’ve taken”.
“[The NCSC] have, along with a number of others — the Information Commission’s Office, the National Data Guardian, the NHS — been advising us. And as the technical authority for cyber security I’m very glad to have had the NCSC’s advice,” he also said.
“We have said will will open source the software, we have said we will publish the privacy model and the security model that’s underpinning what we’re going to do,” he added. “The whole model rests on people having randomized IDs so the only point in the process at which they need to say to us who they are is when they need to order a test having become symptomatic because it’s impossible to do that otherwise.
“They will have the choice both to download the app and turn it on but also to upload the list of randomized IDs of people they’ve been in touch with. They will also have the choice at any point to delete the app and all the data that they haven’t shared with us up to that point with it. So I do believe that what we’ve done is respectful of people’s privacy but at the same time effective in terms of being able to keep people safe.”
Gould was unable to tell the committee when the app’s code will be open sourced, or even confirm it would happen before the app was made available. But he did say the unit is committed to publishing data protection impact assessments — claiming this would be done “for each iteration” of the app.
“At every stage we will do a data protection impact assessment, at every stage we’ll make sure the information commission know’s what we’re doing and is comfortable with what we’re doing so we will proceed carefully and make sure what we do is compliant,” he said.
At another point in the hearing, Lillian Edwards, a professor of law, innovation and society at Newcastle Law School who was also giving evidence, pointed out that the Information Commissioner’s Office’s executive director, Simon McDougall, told a public forum last week that the agency had not in fact seen details of the app plan.
“There has been a slight information gap there,” she suggested. “This is normally a situation with an app that is high risk stakes involving very sensitive personal data — where there is clearly a GDPR [General Data Protection Regulation] obligation to prepare a Data Protection Impact Assessment — where one might have thought that prior consultation and a formal sign off by the ICO might have been desirable.”
“But I’m very gratified to hear that a Data Protection Impact Assessment is being prepared and will be published and I think it would be very important to have a schedule on that — at least at some draft level — as obviously the technical details of the app are changing from day to day,” Edwards added.
We’ve reached out to the ICO to ask if it’s seen plans for the app or any data protection impact assessment now.
During the committee hearing, Gould was also pressed on what will happen to data sets uploaded to the central server once the app has been required. He said such data sets could be used for “research purposes”.
“There is the possibility of being able to use the data subsequently for research purposes,” he said. “We’ve said all along that the data from the app — the app will only be used for controlling the epidemic, for helping the NHS, public health and for research purposes. If we’re going to use data to ask people if we can keep their data for research purposes we will make that abundantly clear and they’ll have the choice on whether to do so.”
Gould followed up later in the session by adding that he didn’t envisage such data-sets being shared with the private sector. “This is data that will be probably under the joint data controllership of DHSC and NHS England and Improvement. I see no context in which it would be shared with the private sector,” he said, adding that UK law does already criminalize the reidentification of anonymized data.
“There are a series of protections that are in place and I would be very sorry if people started talking about sharing this data with the private sector as if it was a possibility. I don’t see it as a possibility.”
In another exchange during the session Gould told the committee the app will not include any facial recognition technology. Although he was unable to entirely rule out some role for the tech in future public health-related digital coronavirus interventions, such as related to certification of immunity.
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Rose ♠️ Vriska!
Characters/Pairings: Rose Lalonde/Vriska Serket, Dave Strider, Terezi Pyrope,Kanaya Maryam, Rose/Kanaya
Rating: G
Words: 1,700
A.N.: This got out of hand as far as ‘a short ficlet’ goes, because this is a pairing I really like, but haven’t written for yet, so it’s more of a uh. Coming to the conclusion for Rose than any pitch shenanigans themselves. >x> Unedited, obviously.
In the beginning, you thought nothing of it. From what you could tell everyone would eventually snap or stomp off with some interactions with Vriska, who was always smug, like she was winning something for being insufferable.
“Heeeeeeeey Lalonde,” she waves from her place on the couch in the dining area, a wine bottle in her hand. “I thought I’d borrow this from you, seeing as how we can just make more later. I have to admit, it kinda sucks!”
“Oh, are you inebriated already?” You reply lightly, turning into the connected kitchen for afternoon tea (or as close to the afternoon as you’re sure it can be without a sun or spinning planetoid).
“I just said it sucks, I’d need more than this tiny bottle of old fruit. Do you have any idea of the old fucking awesome brews I found FLARPing?”
“My curiosity is well warranted, I can never be sure what’s causing the stupid things that come out of your mouth.” After that you leave with a flourish and a smirk to the sound of breaking glass and Terezi whooping in amusement.
—
Alcohol is no longer a source of amusement for anyone, it seems. Vriska knocks the glass out of your hand, fists clenched so tight they shake, and you later find spots of her blue blood on the floor.
Dave is the only one who tries to intervene before Vriska leaves, and when he asks Karkat why he didn’t say anything he replies incomprehensibly with, “There aren’t enough caegers in all the doomed timelines that would inspire me enough to be the leaf between those two broads.”
—
When you ask Dave, he’s not helpful.
“Alright, Rose, you know I love listening to you talk – ”
“Not as much as you love listening to yourself.”
“That goes without saying. Anyways. As much as I love listening to you talk all the fucking time about Vriska, I really honestly got my fill of that from Terezi. I am still kind of getting my fill of that from Terezi, like some Pillsbury dough boy being force fed his own burnt croissant recipes over the course of breakfast, brunch, tea time, lunch, dinner, supper – ”
“Dave.”
“Alright my point is she’s annoying but she’s not that annoying. If you hate her just on principle that’s fine not everyone gets along, but probably stop goading her?”
“I do not goad her, if anything she goads me.”
“Uh okay.” You can’t see it happening, but when Dave rolls his eyes his head always ends up tilting to the right. “Just steer clear of her. If the juggalo dude has gone all these weeks without detection than I’m sure you can manage with your Seer shit.”
—
Vriska is impossible to avoid.
Her constant insistence to needle her way under your skin, overbearing in how she shoves herself into everyone’s business, everyone’s attentions with her gregarious historonics.
Unavoidable.
Your cold and snapping altercations leave you rejuvenated, as you are often the winner.
—
“I had feared asking this some time ago, though have since realized that what I have to say will not be taken as a proposition given your lack of understanding, and little education, towards troll quadrants, but I want to know; what are your intentions with Vriska?”
You look away from the chess board to better assess what Kanaya means through her expression, but find her expression only hesitant concern.
“I don’t understand the question,” you reply with honesty.
“I am also more than capable of giving you two privacy,” Terezi, your chess partner, already rising from her seat.
“No, I think your prescence is perfectly fine as Vriska’s moirail – ”
“Oh my God, Kanaya.”
“I was just saying – ”
“I know what you meant. I’ll be back in five, Lalonde, consider your Queen mine.”
“The point of the game is to acquire the King’s surrender, not to court the Queen.”
“Oh, I know what I’m doing.” Terezi waggles her eyebrows at you before neatly making herself scarce. At her leave Kanaya sits lightly onto the vacant chair and smooths out her skirts.
“We have talked about quadrants together.”
“Yes,” you nod.
“You told me you had an understanding of them.”
“Well, a basic understanding.” Your brows furrow as Kanaya leans tiredly onto the table, wiping a slow hand over her face.“I have done a poor job then, I’m afraid, as increasingly your and Vriska’s actions have been a rather blatant caliginous advances.” For a moment, you’re stunned.
“You think I’m…hate flirting. With Vriska.”
“No, no! What I’m – well it wouldn’t surprise me, is all, but I don’t know if you know what you’re doing from our point of view.” You can see it.
Oh, you can see it. At the very least you can admit that despite her long features and unwashed hair, there still manages to be something physically attractive about her, somehow, but.
But you think Kanaya has this all wrong.
“Not that I see anything wrong with that!” Kanaya adds hastily into the silence. “I have no intentions of getting between the two of you, or advising you against it, I merely wanted – ”
“Don’t worry about it,” You smile, reaching across the board to gently take her cool hand in yours. Her tension dissolves as she smiles back. “My emotions aren’t so complicated that I don’t know a simple annoyance when it shows itself.”
—Lapsing into companionable existence alongside the trolls was deceptively easy. Kanaya had quickly and seriously instructed you on proper etiquette, none of which were foreign to you.
Personal space is a thing, don’t touch a trolls horns, don’t start a fight that can’t be finished.
Simple things. Really simple things.
Complacency of safety was all on you. After the game, and the biweekly aggrievances with your Mother, you let your guard down somewhat. So it was with some surprise when primordial fear trips up your spine and sets your hair on end.
This isn’t even really about the complacency, it’s all about stupidity. Because trolls can be – trolls are – dangerous.Vriska’s teeth aren’t so different from Kanaya’s, but when accompanied with such genuine, bared ferocity and paired by a subsonic growl you can feel in your bones and chest, well. It’s more than a little intimating.
“I apologize, I didn’t mean – ”
“Oh, can it, you meant it and we both know it.” There’s a slight uncertainty underlying her ire, and you desperately want to pick at it. Like an idiot. Thankfully, you’re capable of restraint.
“Alright, I did.” You incline your head minutely, receiving another revving snarl from Vriska for doing so. “I had only meant to irritate by saying so, my intentions were not to infuriate.”
“Believe it or not, your intentions don’t mean shit to me.” You think she’s lying. You think she’s lying, but could be telling the truth if you play your cards wrong.
“Oh, I think I can rally myself into genuine belief,” you say faintly.
“Man, you have a mouth on you! Do you really think because you and Kanaya are a thing I won’t fuck with you?” Your back is already up against the wall, and when Vriska tilts her head down – brandishing her horns – adrenaline trickles into your veins at the idea of being run through with them.
God Tier or not, it would hurt. A lot.
“If you had asked me a minute ago, I would have answered yes.” Vriska chitters something out that you’re sure isn’t complimentary, and as she advances closer your next words come out more quiet, more quickly, more strained. “I’m starting to see the error in my assumption, however.”
You try not to flex your hand, to feel for the solidness of your wands and where they would release from your Strife Specibus so you could fight back. It’s not that you’re scared (you are, a little bit) but that you can’t afford this kind of fight. You still have years together on this vessel, and even if neither of you would die a final death, you feel the killing wouldn’t stop.
Wouldn’t stop until it was Just that one of you died. And for all the contentions between the two of you, you don’t want Vriska dead.
“You know what I hate about you humans?” Vriska asks lowly. “You expect us to cross aaaaaaaall the cultural barriers. Then you turn around and guffaw when we try and get something about us to stick in your rotten thinkpans. Had you tried to get more than the bare bones basics, you would have known you don’t make remarks like that about a trolls moirail.
“Especially not mine.”
“Noted.”
At that Vriska throws her head back and cackles. “You know, I should have let loose on you a long time ago! I knew you could take it. Despite what Kanaya and Terezi say, I think you humans are at least tougher than what they think. You got through the game, right? If you can handle that, you can handle me. Now that you’re taking me seriously.”
You have mixed feelings about that. After that near raging display, hearing what you have about Vriska’s fighting prowess, you’re. Amused? Not prideful, really, that she thinks you’re a match for her.
You want to test it out. You want to strife and see who would come out on top, no killing, just fighting, just – Vriska lights up, eyes wide as she taps her temple. “See you soon, Lalonde.”
She leaves, and you remember she’s psychic, and you remember what you had just told Kanaya.
You remember you’re an idiot, and you groan, and your head thuds back against the wall.
—
“So.” You say.
“So.” Kanaya mimics.
“It’s confusing.”
“Yes.”
“We don’t have anything remotely like this on Earth, nothing that was healthy – ”
“I understand.”
“Do you have any…books about it? Fiction works just as well as non-fiction.” Kanaya is practically blinding with her excitement.
—
“I know what you’re going to say – or what noise you’re going to make more accurately – and I know that Kanaya already talked to you about this, but as Vriska’s moirail – ” You groan.
You get the talk from Terezi. Not The Talk, but the you’re-getting-in-with-my-moirail talk, which is, somehow, much worse.
#vrisrose#rose lalonde#vriska serket#homestuck#fanfic#i tried looking for the ship name for this and either i cant find it or it's rarer than i assumed wow#Request
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The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse
Chapter 23: A Most Dangerous Game
Royal weddings were extravagant affairs. They were never planned in a day, or even a week. At minimum they took months, especially when there was so much for the bride to learn. Soon after her engagement, it became obvious to Cora that Prince Henry was only distantly in line for the throne, the chances she'd ever be Queen were slim, but not impossible. But regardless of that fact, Henry and Cora, once they were married, were to be given their own spit of land to rule over for the King and Queen. There was a lot to teach her before she could marry Henry and be crowned as Princess, and the King wasn't going to allow her to marry his son without that education.
And so, the wedding was planned so distantly down the road it felt like something that would never get there. But a lengthy engagement suited him just fine. Aside from politics, there was much for Cora to learn.
She was a promised woman, and a part of him acknowledged that was dangerous, but after that night together in the tower, he just couldn't stop spending time with her. During the day the King and the Prince, the Kingdom and the palace could have her. But night was their time. After the castle had gone to bed or Cora had pronounced she was retiring, he'd gotten good at slipping into the castle under cover of darkness to see her. They'd met every night since the Prince had proposed and she'd moved in. And she knew it was wrong too, dangerous, but he suspected that she got a secret thrill out of the running around. He suspected it, because he got a secret thrill out of running around behind the backs of so many. Not that they were ever discreet. They'd been nearly caught more than a few times, and knowing that the fate for Cora, if caught, would be death, one of the first things he'd taught her had been privacy. He taught her how to place a spell upon the reflective surfaces in the rooms they used. It wouldn't make them unusable, he taught her, but it would make sure no sound came from them. To stay hidden from view, she simply had to place a blanket over them. It was usually only after the blanket went over the mirrors, once the illusion of complete privacy was achieved, that their meetings turned into something more.
The reason for seeing her was always under the pretense of learning magic, but more often than not, there lessons turned into late-night rendezvous that involved learning far more than magic. It wasn't exactly their fault, not always at least. Their classroom kept moving and shifting. First, they'd met in the tower she'd originally been imprisoned in, it was there that he'd given her Morgan's book, so she could learn even while he wasn't present. And it was there that the noise of their embraces had drawn the curiosity of the servants and forced them out. Into the garden next time, underneath the moonlight, where they discussed plants and herbs and the purposes of each in magic, before the gardeners had heard voices and they'd taken shelter in the little gardening shed and quieted their laughter with passionate kisses. He taught her about potions in the kitchen when all the maids had gone to sleep, and that was when they'd learned that she was ticklish just under her ribs and he'd first gotten away with holding her breast in the palm of his hand as she groaned at the path his lips made over her neck. He'd gotten, perhaps, a bit too aggressive when he pushed closer and when she'd reached back to balance her weight on the table, she'd suddenly shrieked as blood covered her hand. She'd cut herself on a knife, and they'd barely escaped before they'd been caught. He taught her how to heal herself that night.
Today they'd been talking about spells in the ballroom. It was brazen and daring, considering all the possible reflective surfaces that couldn't be covered with a blanket, but they'd needed a large space. Tonight he was teaching her how to move air and make wind capable of gusting and knocking opposing forces backward. This time, it was her that got a touch too aggressive, only with magic instead of his body. Eventually, she'd knocked the King's throne back. A maid in the next room had come running and they had taken off running. In the back of his mind, he knew it was ridiculous. He was the fucking Dark One! He could disappear and reappear at a second's notice, and yet here he was, chasing after Cora, hand in hand, letting her push him into a room and close the door where they hid from a mere non-magical mortal! It was childish. But maybe that was the reason it was also fun. He liked the way she shrank into him and allowed him to hold her closer as they suppressed their laughter and listened in the hallway, praying those maids wouldn't come in to clean this place next or search it for the reasons behind the noises. By now, it should have been at the forefront of their mind not to make so much noise.
But hiding did have its perks. When the sounds they heard outside finally passed and they realized they were safe from discovery, they were finally free to look at each other, let out a peal of riotous laughter before Cora leaned up to kiss him once more. Deeply. Urgently. As it always did the passion grew and just as he let out a sigh and had the urge to take a breath, he felt a pull against his arms and he pushed until Cora was up against a wall, smiling with drunken happiness he was confident he shared in before kissing her again so that their mouths opened and he tasted the chocolate she'd had for dessert on her tongue.
The magic they were teaching each other was most certainly not limited to spells and potions. It was a dangerous game they were playing right under the nose of the King and her fiancé, but at the moment, he didn't particularly care to stop. And for the first time, he didn't feel as though he had too.
Meeting Cora meant more than secret mid-night meetings. It was a timeline. For the first time since he'd acquired his power of foresight, he had a sense of time. He wasn't searching blindly for random faces and events. He was waiting for Cora. For her child. For Regina to get old enough to cast a curse. To hate Snow White enough to cast the curse. No, Cora wasn't even pregnant yet, it might be a couple of years until her firstborn came along, but it wouldn't be long. And from there it was what? Twenty years? Thirty? Thirty-five? To anyone else, it might seem long, but he'd waited a century already. Next to that, another thirty-five years was nothing. And if Cora was there with him, why shouldn't he enjoy this time with her?
Suddenly, Cora broke away. Her chest was heaving, making him need more than anything to bend down and place another kiss at the indent at the top of her cleavage as he caught his own breath.
"You've gone rigid again, Darling," she finally breathed.
"Have I?' he questioned with false surprise. She complained of that whenever this happened. When he was with her and his thoughts drifted to his son. He hadn't known his body would react to those thoughts but she sensed it every time. Not that she understood it, he had yet to actually explain to her the reason for it. "Merely taking in the scenery," he excused moving away from her and letting his eyes wander around the room they'd taken shelter in. "Where did we end up?"
The room was big, but simple. A single lit fireplace against the wall and book after book sat upon shelf after shelf. There was a desk and high-backed chair pushed against one wall. Another table with chairs around it was in the center of the room. And by the fireplace big, plump, soft-looking armchairs that looked like they'd be a joy to snuggle up in with a loved one or a book.
"The Library," Cora said, stating what he'd already put together. "Xavier's personal library, to be specific. Fortunately, he goes to bed early. And better yet, it's fortunate that Henry and I will be moving to an estate of our own after we're married. I can't wait…he's not exactly what a prince should be, but I'd rather live there with him for an eternity than stay in this place with his father breathing down my neck. I hate that man, and yet…Henry could stand to be a little more like him," she sighed falling down into one of the armchairs, so her legs were kicked over the side of it.
Her musings were not news to him. This was a dangerous game they'd been playing but he knew that her side of the game was more difficult than his own was. He had to be secretive for her sake, but it was she who led a double life. She had to be a future princess, madly in love with her own "Prince Charming" during the day as she was taught manners and etiquette and all that she needed to know in order to be a princess one day. But then at night, with him…she became this. Magical. Beautiful. Rude. Arrogant. A sorceress. And if the look she was giving him from that chair had the proper effect, a temptress like he'd never imagined existed. It had to be difficult for her, but gods was it intoxicating to him!
He was about to give into her beckoning eyes, to pull her down onto that rug and maybe feel for something lower than her chest, but the second he took a step closer, he encountered something magical that stopped him in his tracks. Focused as he'd been on Cora, it was as though he was a dog who had just smelled a cat, and the feeling was so unexpected it distracted him from the beautiful woman wordlessly calling him closer.
"Rumple…Rumple, what is it, my dear?"
He didn't know. He was looking around, trying to identify the source of the magic when…there it was. His heart began to flutter as he moved closer to it, wondering if it was what he thought it was.
Yes…Dark One magic. It had been created by a former, and therefore he had the memories of the creation. He knew exactly what had gone into the making of it, and the reason it existed, he only had to tap into those memories from…four Dark One's before him. A King who had been cruel and punishing to his sons after losing the first and most beloved in an accident. The King had wanted a way always to know where they were the more they rebelled against him. So he'd made a deal with a Dark One who fashioned this — a globe made of magic. White on the surface, with no identifiable landmasses, inside it hummed from magic, perhaps recognizing his as he recognized it's.
"Valuable," the Seer's voice whispered in his ear. "Find the boy!"
"Rumple, are you alright?" he felt Cora's hand upon his shoulder and felt her warmth next to him. She was concerned. He, on the other hand, felt ecstatic.
"This globe…do you know where it came from?"
She gave it a glance before shaking her head. "No, of course not, as if Xavier had time to waste on telling me stories. Why? What is it?"
He plucked it off the table and brought it closer to the light, where it was easier to see. "It was made by a Dark One, hundreds of years ago. It can find anyone, anywhere, any realm. Or so the King it was given to was told." He searched the foreign memories once more and confirmed it. Yes, that was what it did. The King hadn't been lied to, which meant…
The tip of the globe was sharp, meant to pierce skin even skin as thick as his own was these days. Cora hissed out his name when she saw what he'd done but didn't stop him from letting his hand hover over the mass of white and swirled on the surface as though it were made of water. He watched with eager anticipation, hardly feeling it when Cora took his hand to heal the puncture on his finger as slowly something began to form along the white of the globe. And island. A single solitary island in the entire world with only one little pinprick in the water a fair distance from it. It was red, the precise color of the blood he'd dropped onto it, but he hunched his shoulders in frustration and did his best not to reach out and toss the thing across the room.
Neverland.
The globe had found his blood. But it had found his blood one generation in the wrong direction!
And Bae…
"Do you know where that is?" Cora asked next to him as the image, no longer needed, began to swirl and fade.
"No," he lied with a growl. Maybe it wasn't that it didn't work, but that it couldn't. Bae had gone to a Land Without Magic that much was clear. By very definition, then, magic couldn't work in that land, and nothing for it would work here…not unless he changed the Land Without Magic into a Land With Magic. On that day the globe might be useful, which was the only reason he wasn't destroying it now. But until then…
"And who is it you're trying to find, exactly?" Cora prodded next to him.
That answer, truth or lie, certainly didn't come as easily as the last question. As an unwritten rule, he'd spoken of his son to almost no one since he'd gone away, save for one conversation with the Blue Fairy and another with Milah and a final one with the Seer. Beyond that, there were times that he'd mentioned he had a son, to comfort or manipulate others into trusting him; in this case, he was certain he'd mentioned it to Cora once, on the night they met, but he hadn't spoken his name. Not aloud, not to another. Telling someone else, explaining the reason behind his dealings, and how he'd failed in them, it seemed wrong. And thankfully, in his situations, the people he mentioned it to generally didn't care. In truth, it was because he hadn't ever had a relationship with any one of them, not since Bae had left had he bothered himself with just trivialities. But now with Cora, things had changed in the last month. What once seemed like an endless stretch of unknown time suddenly had an end date. The time was coming! And the brown-haired woman he'd seen in his bed, the one from his vision…if it was Cora, if things had truly shifted to the point that he had a partner in all of this, why not tell that someone. He had done a lot of terrible, awful things since becoming the Dark One, the part of him that was still human recognized that sometimes, that all the trickery, murder, and deception had to return to him at some point. Yet, all of those terrible things were far easier to confess than what had happened with his own flesh and blood.
"My son," he muttered in a voice so low he was certain he'd have to repeat himself but prayed he didn't. If she asked him to, he might lose his nerve and reconsider.
"Your son…" she repeated thankful. "You mentioned him the night we met. You lost him?" she guessed correctly.
He bit the inside of his cheek until it bled. He'd never thought of it that way before. He'd never thought of it with such an active and careless verb, but he supposed…yes, it was right.
"Many, many years ago," he confirmed. "I am…quite old, you know."
"I've assumed," she answered. For a while, there was silence a time when he didn't know how to go on, and he could sense Cora wanted so badly to ask a question it was beginning to make his skin itch. "How long ago was it?" was finally what came out of her mouth, and he was almost happy she'd asked it in the way she had and not pondered how old Bae was when he'd gone missing.
"A little over a hundred years now…"
Cora was a pale woman, there wasn't much color to her except for the color she added to her face artificially. But his words he swore that even that drained out of her face. She'd assumed he was old but hadn't assumed he was that old.
"Cat got your tongue?" he questioned with a smile, thankful they could move onto something to do with him rather than Baelfire.
"No, it's just…Rumple, if it's been over a hundred years, how can you be sure that your son is-"
"Alive?" he finished for her, unwilling to hear such a thing from her lips. He supposed they hadn't quite moved on as he thought they had. "I know," he promised. "I know he's still alive for the same reason that I know that your daughter will one day help me get back to him."
"And that reason is…"
Again he paused. Tell, don't tell? It was quite the conundrum. When he glanced over at her, he knew he was going to have to tell her something; the question was, just how much was he going to have to tell.
"Because I see the future," he answered. "It's a very uncertain difficult practice. But the future dictates that one day the firstborn of Princess Cora will cast the spell that will take me to the land where my son is."
"Princess…"
"Yes, that's how I knew you could be more than a Miller's daughter," he'd made the comment off-handedly, but now that he was looking at her once more, he knew he'd made a mistake. She looked away from him, her eyes wide her mouth open…she looked hurt. Should he not have told her that bit?
"That and…your tenacity," he whispered turning away from the globe and pulling her into his arms. "The power that I sensed inside of you…" he kissed one side of her neck, "…your determination…" he kissed the other side and she began to smile as he turned back to her mouth. "And-"
"Quit while you're ahead, my dear Rumple," she interrupted before throwing herself back into his arms.
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Conclusion
how to view private instagram try making a bogus Instagram profile that can be received thus that you could view private Instagram shots & posts. So, you realize have a overwhelm on somebody? Maybe, your initially girlfriend or a well-ventilated perspective that you deserted cant neglect. Even, it could be your in the manner of at the outset sight or an dependence for a buddy. This can be our winner in the intervening time. Its a webAPP that actually works as portion of your Online browser. What You will compulsion to pull off is input the username of the goal, nothing at every else and anticipate the exclusive URL for living thing produced for you personally, click upon it and furthermore youre carried out. You should be clever to use this technique to check out any private Instagram account.
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Drug dependency can be easily masked by users who are high-functioning while intoxicated.
Drug addiction could be easily masked by users who actually are high-functioning even though intoxicated. Regardless of whether someone appears intoxicated or not, it is inappropriate to call an individual a “drug customer” without concrete facts except with a saliva drug test. You'll be able to obtain evidence of someone’s medication use with saliva drug tests. These tests will be the most hygienic option in comparison to other drug check types. In addition to screening for medicines, a saliva drug test can accurately find alcohol use as long as blood liquor levels are greater than 0.02%. Oral fluid devices usually do not require any kind of other equipment to run a test. The mouth swab component can be used to collect a saliva specimen. The swab includes built-in panels which react to the sample. Results ought to be interpreted after 10 minutes. Are you concerned for a friend or relative who may be dealing with a drug addiction? Before jumping to conclusions, an instant drug testing system shall present preliminary findings to verify your suspicion. If you can’t send your beloved to the nearest doctor’s office, a drug can be utilised by you test from the privacy of your own home. Saliva drug exams are well-known because they’re simple to use and provide outcomes quickly. After collecting a saliva sample, results will appear on the built-in drug test panels in just a few minutes. Read the instructions before issuing the test properly.

Some scholarly studies recommend that occasional alcohol intake can reduce the risk of heart disease, stroke, diabetes and additional serious health problems. The supposed great things about alcohol entirely rely upon the quantity and frequency of consumption. Excessive alcohol intake is known to cause health problems and addiction. There are many ways to test if someone has recently consumed alcohol. The most common alcohol screening methods entail breath, urine, and saliva examining. For an expanded 80 hour detection window, use EtG urine test cups. Drug misuse is a major global concern. Anyone may become a victim of addiction, of their socioeconomic status or education level irrespective. The initial step to curing this problem is by determining the root cause of the issue through the use of drug testing packages. Today, drugs could be detected in saliva specimens, in addition to hair and urine. A saliva drug assessment kit provides instant results and is the least invasive way to screen for drugs. It may be impossible to get rid of drugs altogether, which explains why drug testing is necessary. Drug tests is a strategy to identify whether a person is using prescription drugs. Since so many persons develop substance abuse problems, drug tests are now being utilized by law enforcement, military personnel, government officials, healthcare providers, and even individuals at home. There are many different methods of drug testing that you can buy. A urine test is most commonly recognized as an affordable and effective way to find drug use. Saliva drug assessments are newer and much less invasive than additional test types relatively. Hair drug tests provide the longest history of medicine samples and abuse will be processed in a laboratory setting. All of these medication testing supplies can be found online. 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A saliva medication test is most effective for safety-sensitive sectors, educational study, and insurance screening. Drug testing can simply determine if someone is using drugs. Drug test kits give many advantages, with the increasing rate of substance abuse on the globe especially. Instant saliva drug check kits specifically provide appropriate and fast results. Anyone can use saliva screening, including police, authorities and even regular persons. Drug testing continues to evolve with ongoing exploration in the field. As the most recent innovation, saliva drug checks are a reliable approach to measure compliance in individuals using prescribed medications. Saliva drug test products yield fast, reliable results that are simple to understand. Hair drug testing are also ideal for the detection of drug abuse. Saliva drug checks and hair follicle examinations can both be acquired online. Urine drug testing is definitely arguably the most traditional substance abuse screening method. However, through advance technology comes a new method - saliva drug testing. Professionals in many fields have attested to the advantages of saliva drug testing for personal and professional use alike. Saliva tests are offered under many brand names, and are purchased in bulk generally. The price of these tests will vary according to the quantity ordered. Are you buying a drug screening device which can be administered anywhere and anytime? In that full case, the saliva drug assessment kit is unbeatable. You don't have to rush right into a laboratory or medical center to learn if someone is consuming drugs. Saliva drug testing can be known to provide fast and appropriate results. This is not an ordinary test device just. A saliva drug test is manufactured with quality, dependable materials. With just a little amount of saliva, one can quickly know if drugs are present in the donor’s system. Saliva drug testing packages enable administrators to identify if individuals are under the influence of drugs. The results of a saliva medication test shall prevent the risk of falsely accusing someone of drug abuse. With this drug testing kit, employees and job candidates who use drugs can be weeded out effectively, thanks to instant test results that are 99% accurate. The purpose of medication testing is to identify if someone is using medicines. Numerous drug testing methods to suit the demands of any corporate environment, including saliva medicine testing. These instant test kits are effective at detecting the existence of several illicit and prescription drugs. A built-in color collection indicator shall ensure that enough saliva is obtained to run the test properly. As a business proprietor, you might want to consider screening people or employees for drugs every so often. Drug screening is a mandatory treatment in lots of companies to test the ability of an employee to function and function normally in the workplace. Drug testing can be administered in lots of ways. Saliva medication testing is the newest approach of identifying substance abuse, and is well known for delivering quick results also. With so many medication testing methods available, it’s important to do your research to find the most suitable fit for your procedure. So, how does saliva medication testing work? Saliva is a highly effective specimen used to trace medicine consumption since it is capable of retaining traces of prescription drugs for an extended timeframe. There are numerous saliva drug testing kits that you can buy. Things to consider when choosing saliva drug tests are price, comfort, instructions, reviews, and stability. Most saliva drug assessment kits are being used the same way; place the swab in to the mouth for a few minutes to accumulate a sufficient sample. After ten minutes, color-coded panels embedded into the kit will display whether drugs can be found in the specimen or not really. Some saliva medicine test kits include color indicators to provide collectors and administrators with results that are simple to interpret. Select saliva drug testing include a color collection indicator to ensure a adequate amount of saliva is going to be obtained. Most tests as well contain built-in test strips that have antigen dyes that respond to medication metabolites in a saliva specimen. If a colored band appears next to the drug abbreviation, a negative final result has been determined. The number of illicit drugs around is hard to quantify. Substances like alcoholic beverages, phencyclidine, cannabis, cocaine, opiates are only some of the most commonly abused drugs on the globe. Fortunately, a saliva drug test package works extremely well to detect the existence of all of these drugs, and much more. The timeframe of detection may vary based on the type of drug being tested with a oral fluid device. Some drugs could be detected easier than others, especially if they are metabolized by the body at a slower rate.

If you’re seeking for an inexpensive drug screening method, try saliva drug testing kits. The unit contain specific panels to check for synthetic, illicit, and prescription medications in the most sanitary way possible. A saliva medication test can be administered without the guidance of your physician or healthcare provider. Compared to different drug testing strategies, oral fluid devices could possibly be the easiest to use. These testing also deliver results on 10 minutes or less for immediate interpretation after accidental injuries or accidents. Saliva drug testing gives many advantages at work. These tests are economical and offer fast, reliable findings. Certain brands likewise incorporate color collection indicators to increase the precision of the test. Not only can saliva drug lab tests screen for to 14 different drugs of misuse at once up, they can be issued anywhere at any time also. It’s no real surprise that saliva drug testing kits are popular for pre-work screening and periodic employee testing increasingly. Professionals are constantly on the lookout for effective medication screening technology. While saliva drug exams and urine test cups are the most commonly used devices, new methods of testing are emerging. It is easy to know if someone is consuming medicines by issuing an instant drug test. Nevertheless, it is important to research the benefits associated with different medicine testing types as a way to determine the most likely strategy for your corporate needs. Drug addiction is known to cause inappropriate behavior, feeling swings, loss of appetite, and much more negative unwanted effects. Nowadays, companies are more concerned with hiring and retaining qualified individuals who do not take part in drug abuse in order to maintain a secure, happy work environment. Drug screening is an important aspect of the pre-career screening process. To improve convenience and maximize period, saliva drug testing kits are used by staffing and recruiting professionals often. These instant test kits can detect up to 14 diverse drugs of abuse in simply a few minutes, which makes them valuable for post-accident testing aswell. Saliva drug assessment is widely requested detecting drug use. This noninvasive drug testing approach analyzes saliva samples for the occurrence of drug metabolites. Usually, a swab is located into the mouth for a couple minutes before color-coded drug panels respond to drugs that may be within the sample. Saliva drug tests are offered under many brands, so it’s important to perform thorough study to get the most reliable test. When it comes to rate and convenience, saliva drug screening is unbeatable. Although laboratory testing is regarded as the most reliable testing method still, it remains to come to be time-consuming and costly. If you’re looking to choose instant saliva drug exams, you might also want to consider those which are FDA 510(k) authorized. Saliva drug tests are hygienic, easy to use, and even much easier to interpret. There are a number of variations between saliva drug testing and urine drug testing. The window of detection on a saliva drug test is much shorter than a urine drug test, which is effective to determine imminent medicine use. Saliva tests can even be administered without the need for a bathroom. Drug detection will depend upon a true number of personal factors, including metabolism, time, and activity level. In some full cases, collecting a saliva sample may take so long as 5-10 minutes. Learn more info lab drug testing
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