#anybody have a map? (main)

[megalony]

A Hindrance

This is a new Emperor Geta imagine (Gladiator), thank you to the lovely anon who requested this. Please let me know what you think.

I'd love to take on any Geta requests anybody has.

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Summary: (Y/n) tries to attend state meetings now she is married to an Emperor, but some of the Senates aren't so kind towards her. When Geta finds out, he makes them see reason.

Enjoy.

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A soft grin formed on (Y/n)'s lips before she even found the will power to open her eyes. She didn't have to look up to know that the shadows casting over her was because of her husband.

It almost felt strange to think that, to acknowledge that she was married now. That she was bound to someone from now until her last day. Someone to give herself to, someone to be herself around and to love more than anyone else; before anyone else. But it was also one of the most wonderful feelings in the world to (Y/n).

Knowing she was married to one of two Emperors was a daunting thought. It was easy for (Y/n) to separate Geta from the crown placed on his head, sometimes it was like seeing him as two different people. The stone faced Emperor the people saw, and the thawed out, doting man she had married only a fortnight ago.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was as soft and subtle as the warm breeze passing through the open window.

And when (Y/n) dared to open her eyes, she was met with a lovely sight. Geta had his right arm pressing down into the mattress near her shoulder and his head was tilted at an angle so he was looking down at her. He was leaning up on his elbow and his hip and his left arm stretched out so his fingers could create a ticklish path from the base of (Y/n)'s throat down her bare chest. It was almost as if Geta was drawing a map or following a road with the pad of his finger.

The lazy smile on his lips was infectious and seeing him now, bare and absent of any make up, it made him look warm. There was finally colour to his cheeks and a redness to his lips and a soft pale cream beneath his eyes.

It was homely and soothing to see Geta in this light, and to know that (Y/n) was the only person who got to see him like this. But she would have to admit that seeing him in his full regalia and make up was also a sight to behold. His deathly white skin when it was painted always looked so regal rather than pasty and ill. And the black streaks painted beneath his eyes made him stand out and made his gaze all the more piercing.

"Admiring the view," Geta murmured back whilst he continued his administrations, trailing his fingers down until he was creating patterns and secret words along (Y/n)'s waist just to feel the way she qould squirm and fidget beneath him.

His words set a fire blazing within (Y/n) and she couldn't help but reach her hand up to cup the side of his face. She pushed up from the pillow to capture him in a kiss that seemed to entice him until he was pushing his bare chest down against hers.

When she prepared to marry Geta, people had warned her. They told (Y/n) that Geta wouldn't give up his concubines or the women of the night he ventured to with his brother. And they also said that because he was an Emperor, he wasn't expected to either. He was permitted and socially applauded for keeping those favoured women around and having them to go to when he didn't want to be with his wife or in the event that she became pregnant.

Part of (Y/n) had tried to prepare herself for that thought and that event, but it turned out that she had no need. Geta had dismissed them all. All the women and concubines who had been at the palace to serve him had been dismissed and the only ones who remained were Caracalla's favoured women.

Geta had made it very clear that he didn't want anyone but (Y/n); he would devote himself to her in the same respect he expected her to devote to him. And (Y/n) was beyond happy with that gesture of love and trust.

"Don't we have a meeting to attend?" (Y/n)'s thumb stroked the side of Geta's face that she was still cradling in her palm and she spoke in between stolen kisses against his blushing red lips.

She liked the way his hands stopped drawing on her skin in favour of gripping her waist when she moved to sit up and he followed suit. His nose nudged against hers and his lips stole every breath (Y/n) tried to inhale like Geta simply couldn't breathe without her.

When one hand left her hip in favour of cradling the back of her neck so he could angle her lips better to his, (Y/n) could have passed out then and there. Her hands moved to grip his sturdy shoulders and she let him steal half a dozen more kisses and touches before she finally pulled back for air before her head burst.

"The meeting," She mumbled against his lips and leaned forward to leave an open mouthed kiss against the very corner of his mouth which caused Geta's eyes to flutter closed.

"This is more important."

"I don't think the Senate would agree."

"Ah, but taking care of my wife is my responsibility, not theirs." Geta's counter argument was effective, even if he wasn't using it to sway (Y/n)'s mind since he was already untangling from the sheets so he could stand up.

His touch lingered on her skin after he ventured into the smaller, adjoining room that housed all their clothes and garments.

(Y/n) supposed that she should get ready as well since she was expected to attend the meeting. She was expected to attend most, if not all, of the meetings both Emperors had regarding Rome and their conquored nations. She was the Empress now, her husband was one of the rulers and it wasn't just about being by his side and showing support for him and the people.

It was about (Y/n) understanding the governing of Rome and listening to the matters of state. (Y/n) had to know just as much as the Emperors about the land they ruled and controlled, she couldn't rely on second hand information from others.

Once she was dressed, (Y/n) smoothed her hands up and down her dress, brushing off the few wrinkles and making sure that it didn't hug too tight around her frame and flowed freely around her lower legs.

She began to pin her hair back and donned a golden band in her hair which matched the golden belt around her waist just as she felt a familiar pair of hands on her hips. She felt the growl rumble from Geta's lips through her neck and all throughout her blood when he tucked his face into her neck.

And she heard 'beautiful' and 'matching' mutter past his lips like he was singing her praises. She realised the colour of her dressed matched what Geta had chosen to wear.

Most of his and Caracalla's clothes had some element of gold in them, for gold was the colour of wealth and regal and it matched their natural fiery hair. Although where Caracalla favoured blue with gold, it was well seen that Geta favoured red.

He had streaks of red woven into the clothing he was wearing which was outwardly cream with gold embellishments and edgings. His robes didn't have sleeves as long as some of his other garments, the sleeves on this particular robe Geta wore today cut just past his shoulders and hung in front of his chest like a backwards cape.

(Y/n) murmured a soft "Thank you," When Geta unravelled himself from her and moved to stand beside her in front of the table which heldall the various pins and rings and jewels each of them would wear.

Geta had grown accustomed to sleeping with his rings still on his fingers until two weeks ago when he married (Y/n). None of his concubines had ever shared his bed all through the night so he hadn't realised that he could swing his arms out during his sleep. The rings that clad his fingers were heavy and had caused a bruise or two on (Y/n)'s soft skin when he slung an arm over her or at her during the night.

His fingers skimmed over the rings and he set about sliding each one over the grooves of his fingers towards his knuckles.

But when it came to choosing and clipping his other jewellery, he paused. His lips curved into a soft, melting smile when he held his wrist out towards (Y/n) and felt her soft touch skimming across his skin.

He watched with growing adoration in his eyes as (Y/n)slid a golden band over his wrist which looked like a piece of armor that started at his wrist and went halfway up his forearm. Next, she chose a thin gold bracelet to place on his other wrist and two golden chains for his neck.

Geta leaned forward towards her, raising a brow and curving his lips into a sideways grin as he bowed his head towards her chest so she could reach and loop the first chain over the back of his head until it hung comfortably around his neck. The pendant on the chain settled just below his collar bone, situated lovingly against his exposed pale skin and the second chain that looped around his neck hung much lower and rested over halfway down his chest.

When he raised back up to his full height, (Y/n) grinned as if admiring a work of art which in many ways, Geta was to her. The finishing touch was the golden leaf crown that (Y/n) carefully nestled into his golden hair, making sure the crown wasn't engulfed or obscured by his silky strands.

"My Emperor," Her voice was as tender as her touch when she skimmed the back of her hand down Geta's cheek and over his exposed chest.

She was sure he whispered "Yours alone." Against her lips when he dove down to steal a kiss and brush a loose tendril of hair back behind her ear.

(Y/n) slid her own rings onto her fingers when Geta finally released her so he could apply the make up he favoured whenever he had be seen by anyone other than his wife or brother. She hooked a few bracelets onto her wrist and one necklace.

Once they were both ready, (Y/n) looped her right hand around Geta's arm and stood close to his side as they left their chambers.

It had only been two weeks since their wedding, but they were quickly falling into a rhythm and routine together. Breakfast wasn't something they tended to fuss about. Before Geta and Caracalla became Emperors, during their harsh childhood, food had been something of a luxury they couldn't afford, something they didn't find often enough.

Breakfast had been cut out of their routines, they ate at midday and late evening, a lot of the times while growing up it had been one small meal a day if they were lucky. Becoming Emperors and having all the riches and luxuries in the world made them appreciate what they never used to have and they stuck to the routine of two meals a day.

And Geta preferred to get up and go straight to business, walk straight into these meetings. (Y/n) would follow Geta.

She was his wife, she wanted to show her support and show that their alliance was a loving and happy one. If Geta went to meetings and events alone it might imply that something was wrong or he didn't want her around. (Y/n) didn't want to give off that impression, especially when Geta wanted her by his side every moment of the day. He couldn't bear to be without her.

Her cheek nuzzled into his shoulder as they walked in tandem down the long corridors and down a flight of stairs.

The room in the palace where meetings were held was a large open court room that overlooked one of the fountains outside. (Y/n) thought the room was lovely, until it was filled with people.

The walls of stone were thick and high and when voices got louder, the room echoed badly. (Y/n) had never been a fan of crowds but loud noises were something she couldn't abide by. It was something Geta had figured out very early on in their courtship and something he was invested in helping with now that they were married.

Once they entered the room, a cold shiver passed over (Y/n) and she tucked herself more into Geta's side.

Apart from him and Caracalla, there weren't many, if any, people in here that she knew well enough to trust or talk to. (Y/n) was still finding her feet, she was attending these meetings more to keep on track with what was happening in Rome and to learn rather than to add any opinions or input into the room.

She was too nervous to speak unless Geta struck up a conversation and asked for her opinion and even then, (Y/n) was timid. Geta never pushed her into conversations, he was more than happy to simply have his wife by his side and on his arm. If she didn't want to speak that was fine by him, he would never push her boundaries.

It still felt unusual to sit in the centre of the room, being at the centre of the attention and focus of every other person in the room. (Y/n) was used to some attention, it came with the territory of being born into the upper class. She had to mind her manners, always be elequent when in public and hold her tongue. But being married to an Emperor was something else entirely. It was a whole new level of scrutiny and observation.

At least (Y/n) wasn't the full centre of attention. That fell onto her husband and brother in law. (Y/n) could sit silent by Geta's side and observe and he was the only person who would ask her opinion or ask her to comment. And he tried not to because he could see it made (Y/n) nervous.

When they sat down, Geta propped his chin on one hand and stretched his other arm across to rest on (Y/n)'s thigh. His fingers danced across her skin and the metal rings cladding his fingers tapped against her thigh in a soft, lulling pattern as he tried to concentrate as the meeting began.

The moment everyone began to speak, (Y/n) felt uneasy. No one seemed to wait their turn to speak. These were all men of the world, men of upper class, and yet they couldn't be polite enough to wait until one had finished speaking for another to butt in and make his point. They rose their voices over each other to be heard and to try and get one or both Emperors to listen to them before anyone else.

Their voices were loud enough without the stone walls echoing them and doubling their volume until it felt like needles were scratching down (Y/n)'s spine and stabbing into her ears.

Her fingers began to glide across each of Geta's rings and she tilted her head down to try and study each one, even though she had practically committed each design to memory by now. She needed something to focus on to calm herself down so she could listen to their raised voice in the background. It took patience to endure these meetings and although (Y/n) had abundance of patience, she wasn't sure she had the willpower.

But this was her place. Being beside her husband, listening to state affairs and the problems of Rome. This was where she was supposed to be and (Y/n) didn't dare ask to be removed from these meetings in fear of what people would say. What Geta would say. She didn't want to let him down, not when they had only just married.

Geta nodded aimlessly to the three Senates stood beside Caracalla who were now starting to raise their voices to get their invalid, separate points across. When one particular man rose his voice and his pitch seemed to bounce off the stone walls, Geta looked to his left.

He felt (Y/n) shudder.

Her fingers paused their administrations dancing across his knuckles and she seemed to shrink and jump in her seat when the particular echo vibrated through her ears.

That was something Geta had noticed a lot these past two weeks. He noticed his wife shrink back into his side or pull away when a particularly loud noise or someone's shout sounded loudly nearby. Loud noises never bothered Geta. He had grown up in a palace with strict rules and tutors and people rushing about and making clattering noises at all hours.

He was used to the roaring crowds of the colosseum and the cheering crowds when speeches were given and events were hosted. It was part of his life and his ears had become deafened to raised tones and volumes. Sometimes it slipped his mind that other people might have a sensitivity to things like this. He would have to keep an eye on (Y/n) and take note of what disgruntled her to make sure it didn't occur again.

After another debate that (Y/n) could barely keep track of, she finally stopped trailing her fingers across Geta's rings and hand in favour of squeezing his wrist to gain his attention.

She loved the way his head inclined in her direction and how his ruby red lips formed a living grin even before he knew what she was going to say. His free hand was pressing into his chin and his fingertips were tapping along his lip as if to obscure his smile so only his wife was able to see it.

The way (Y/n) silently circled her finger through the air gave Geta all the information he needed and he nodded, removing his hand from her thigh to allow her to get up. She was going to circle the room and try to get some fresh air from the open doors. Sitting down was making her go stiff and she wasn't engaged in conversation so no one could say anything if she traipsed around the room for a little while.

Her hands smoothed across her dress as if sorting the imaginary creases and her sandals glided agaginst the slabs of stone that scuffed beneath her feet. The subtle click of her sandals against the floor was a soothing sound compared to the voices and hands thrashing down on table tops to get their oblivious points across.

If it would have been socially acceptable to have Arla, her pet, in this meeting with them then (Y/n) would have asked one of the servants to bring her in. But she could just imagine the looks she would receive from all the older men in the room. The looks of distaste and irritation, the snide glances and tuts and eye rolls that it would cause.

After all, (Y/n) was an Empress but she wasn't the highest point of authority in Rome like her husband and her brother in law. If Caracalla ever brought Dondus into the meetings, no one batted an eyelid. No one wanted to be at the end of his temper and receive Caracalla's wrath. (Y/n) was different. She may have a temper, but she would never let it flare or argue with anyone, especially not in front of a crowd.

At least having Arla here with her would have made (Y/n) feel calmer and it would have given her something to put her attention to.

(Y/n) had a sudden, yearning desire to creep out of the door behind her when she stood at the corner of the room near the open doors that led out towards one of the many gardens in the palace. She wanted to disappear outside or head back into the palace and go about her day. She wanted to be away from prying eyes and wait faithfully for Geta rather than to be in here feeling useless and giving very little help or reasoning to this meeting.

She contemplated the thought for a while, that was, until she heard her title being called behind her.

"Empress." The quiet yet gruff voice caused (Y/n) to turn on her heels.

She clasped her hands together in front of her and tilted her head to one side as she looked the Senate up and down. It was Senator Arelius. A gentleman already on the wrong side of middle age with thinning grey hair and gaunt features that made him look toughened and stern.

He seemed to be smiling, but the way his eyes were narrowed down on (Y/n) made her feel unsettled and the slight curve of his lips was frightening rather than inviting.

"Arelius," (Y/n) nodded her head in acknowledgement and put on her best smile as her hands tightened together until the blood was cut off from her fingertips. She tried to be subtle as she took one step to the right so she could glance behind him and cast her eyes towards her husband.

(Y/n) wouldn't want to walk over there and interrupt Geta if he was deep in conversation, but she would rather be back at his side than stood here with a man she didn't trust and hardly knew.

Most of the Senates (Y/n) didn't trust because she knew the way they thought and how they did politics. They were all out for their own gain. When some heard of her betrothal to Geta, they began to get close to (Y/n), to try and befriend her and be on her good side in hopes that she would do them favours with the Emperors. They were wrong. (Y/n) wouldn't be used as a pawn in their games.

She would rather not talk to any of them unless it was strictly necessary.

The conversation between them quickly became stilted and broken and when Arelius turned so he was stood beside (Y/n) rather than in front of her, he looked back towards the Emperors. Both Emperors were on their feet and now stood around the table in the far corner of the room, nodding and observing the notes that they were being presented with.

It was as if Geta could sense their stares because he cast his head to the left and let a smile grace his lips when he looked at (Y/n) before he cast his eyes back down to his notes. A small acknowledgement that he still had her on his mind and that he wasn't too swept away with state business to be thinking of her and making sure she was okay.

"It seems the Emperor doesn't want to let his bride out of his sight. Does he not trust you, my Lady?"

Arelius's words made (Y/n)'s thoughts come to a halt and her expression faltered in panic as she turned to look up at him. Why would he say something like that? What would make him think that?

(Y/n) wasn't someone who needed to be watched at every moment of the day in case she did something wrong. She was not a child who needed supervision, she was Geta's wife. And he didn't have her here in the meeting with them just so he could keep an eye on her. She was here because it was her place and Geta wanted his wife by his side, not someone to keep track over.

"Pardon?" She did her best to steel her voice and hold her head high to show that she didn't believe nor take too kindly to what he was insinuating.

"Maybe the Emperor fears you might become a hinderence if you are left to your own devices."

The way Arelius smiled was as if he was a kindly parent trying to give (Y/n) some kind of advice. She didn't appreciate it. She did not appreciate what he was saying for he was acting as if she was inexperienced in state affairs like this. (Y/n) knew how to act and what to do and how to engage in these conversations, she simply did not wish to engage.

But she always acted respectfully, she never caused any scene or started arguments like the rest of the men in here. She did nothing to make Geta upset or show him up in front of his subserviant men.

(Y/n) could feel tears welling up behind her eyes that she did her best to push away as she tried to take a deep breath to control herself. The last thing she needed was to cause a scene or get upset and prove him right.

Her head tilted back and her chin raised high as she tried to hold herself together and find something to say in rebuttal but she paused when she noticed another Senate clearly listening in on their one-sided conversation. The other Senate was just a little bit younger than Arelius, and he had the kind of smile that was unnerving and made (Y/n) take a step back.

She continued to knot her fingers together as she mustered up the courage to speak her mind.

"Is it not a wife's place to be with her husband, especially an Empress? I think I should witness matters of state, Senator." (Y/n) thought she worded that rather well, and she was telling the truth.

It was her place to be beside Geta, she was his wife, she was supposed to support his decisions and what better way to do that than to witness those decisions being made. Show her support right from the start. If they didn't want (Y/n) here then they had to bring that up with both the Emperors.

"Or to be supervised." The younger Senate, Forin, muttered with one arched brow and his head twisted to the other side as if (Y/n) wasn't worth her time and this conversation wasn't as interesting as he hoped it would be.

"I think I'll take my place now."

(Y/n) took another step to the side and twisted away from both of them. Her place was beside her Emperor, no one else could say that and these two men, however high and mighty they thought of themselves, were not as high as they thought they were. At least not when compared with (Y/n)'s elevated status.

She could go and sit with Geta whereas they would have to fight to bend his ear and get any of his attention. (Y/n) never had to fight for Geta's attention; not once.

One step closer to Geta was all (Y/n) managed before a hand curled around her arm and she was suddenly halted in her pace by his firm grip. He wasn't finished, and he didn't like people walking away from him when he was clearly not done with their conversation.

"I can explain the matters of State for you, so you don't interrupt."

Did he really think (Y/n) would blunder over there and interrupt her husband? Did he think she was a child who needed watching and that she needed everything to be dumbed down and explained to her using pictures?

His words made (Y/n)'s stomach churn but his grip on her arm was what was unsettling her the most. As much as she wasn't a fan of loud noises, (Y/n) really wasn't a fan of personal contact or touch with anyone who wasn't her close family. Geta, Caracalla and her parents were the only people she was okay with being this close to her.

Having a Senate who was clearly unsettled and annoyed with her, grabbing her to pull her back and keep her from 'interrupting' her husband.

Her eyes darted between Arelius and his hand on her arm as her hands clenched and her palms began to sweat.

As if by chance, Geta turned to look behind him again. He thought (Y/n) would have been back by his side by now. She didn't often walk around the room for so long, especially when she didn't tend to talk to anyone during these meetings. She liked to be back by Geta's side and he liked to have her back with him as her presence was calming.

It took Geta a moment to scour his eyes around the hall and find his wife but when he did, his brows furrowed.

Why did Senator Arelius have his hand on Geta's wife?

Geta couldn't think of one valid reason why the Senate would be gripping her like that. The touch was clearly making her uncomfortable and that thought was riling up the bottle of rage that was held within Geta's chest. He could feel it spilling over inside of him like an errupting volcano and it made his blood fizzle and sent colour rushing beneath his painted white cheeks.

He straightened up until his spine clicked into place and he looked as straight as a board with a face that could rival the worst thunderstorm.

Before any of the Senates or his brother gathering round the table had chance to question what had changed Geta's mood so suddenly, he raised his right hand to pause their conversation.

He turned on his heels and stormed away from the table, aiming for the Senate with a blazing fury in his eyes and his jaw ground tight causing his pale cheekbones to pop out. His hands clenched into fists at his sides while he moved to stand directly beside (Y/n), close enough that she could feel his chest brushing up against her arm.

"Is there a problem?" The steely tone to Geta's voice was enough to make the warm summer air turn brisk and damp with cold as if Winter had rolled in without them knowing.

The way his eyes raked up and down Arelius made the elder man shiver and look as if he were about to melt into a puddle on the floor. The scrutiny in Geta's eyes was unnerving and frightening. He was displeased, and no one got away with displeasing an Emperor without a reprimand.

"No Emperor," Arelius smiled nervously and tilted his head back as he tried to calm his rising panic and steady himself.

"Then remove your hand from my wife, unless you wish to lose it."

(Y/n) gasped with the swiftness that Geta moved and how fast his demanour changed. Within an instant, his left arm was secured around her waist, reeling her into his side at the same moment which Arelius let go of her arm. But his right hand moved to push part of his robe to the side so his palm could curl around the handle of his sword.

A threat.

A very clear, menacing threat that told Arelius if he didn't back off, he would lose a limb; possibly his life. Geta was no stranger to being ruthless and he would easily follow through with any threat that he made.

The deep breath that Geta intook made (Y/n) tuck herself more into his side and push back into his firm chest that felt like it was fit to burst. She didn't want a scene to break out, not because of her and not when nothing had really happened except for a mere insult which (Y/n) could brush off and ignore.

"My apologies, Emperor… Empress." Arelius was quick to correct his error and add (Y/n)'s title to the end of his apology when Geta's head turned and his lips pursed into a thin line.

It was not Geta who he needed to be apologising to and if he couldn't be respectful then he needed to leave before he really got on Geta's dark side.

When Arelius backed up towards the corner of the room like a shamed child, (Y/n) glanced up at her husband. Her right hand slithered round to his lower back while her other hand pressed down on his chest as she twisted to face him. Her thumb brushed across his skin and she leaned her head forward into his chest, taking a quick moment to gather her senses and sink into Geta's unwavering embrace.

She felt his lips pressing against her temple and when she tilted her head back to look up at him, he stole a feverish kiss that managed to settle the anger that was still dwelling within him.

Maybe it was time for (Y/n) to depart. Perhaps it would be best if she left the meeting so no other disruptions were caused and they could conclude this meeting. She could meet with Geta afterwards and make sure this debacle was put behind them and reassure him that everything was as it should be.

(Y/n) didn't get the chance to offer a request to leave before she realised she was suddenly walking forwards rather than retreating towards the door. Geta's arm stayed firmly around her waist and he guided her back towards their seats. Back to where his brother was perched on the edge of the table with one leg crossed regally over the other and his hands tapping against his thighs while a smile lit up his face.

He liked confrontation and confliction. Caracalla feeded off the shockwaves and the high tension and he loved to see his twin assert dominance and show just how powerful the pair of them had become. They were the rulers, no one denied them anything or went against them. They would meet the end of a blade if they did.

"Your opinion is required to settle a debate, my love." Geta's words were murmured against the shell of (Y/n)'s ear and his hand feathered up and down her back as he sat down in his chair that was opposite the table. He had no want to stand next to the Senates, he would rather keep some space between them and simmer down.

When (Y/n) moved to try and take a seat beside him, both Geta's hands found her hips and he manovered her gently until she was perched down on his thigh instead. His arm secured around her waist so his hand could feather along her hip and he leant forward until his chin was settled neatly on her shoulder and his lips could attach to the crook of her neck.

He inhaled her scent like she was the air he needed to breathe and when his eyes diverted up to the Senates, they began their debate again.

(Y/n) moved her hands down to hold onto Geta's wrist and her cheek settled on top of his soft hair that felt like feathers tickling her skin. She could feel a point or two from his crown nestling against the base of her chin, but it was comforting rather than uncomfortable.

She loved it when Geta would wrap himself around her like this and want her as close as possible. And the way he held her and hummed into her neck showed he was happy- no, enthralled to be in her presence. He didn't think of (Y/n) as a hindrance like the Senator suggested.

She tried to focus on the way her husband was wrapped around her and how calm he was now that he was in her presence. This was why she had to stay at meetings like these.

How could she refuse when her place was right here by her husband's side?

After all, he was including her in discussions. He wanted her here and he valued her opinion, contrary to what some of the other men in this room might think. (Y/n) didn't want anyone to think badly of her when she had only just married Geta. And she wouldn't want them thinking that she didn't listen to her husband or that she liked to go against his wishes and leave when he wanted her there beside him.

Her place was here, and (Y/n) couldn't leave.

***

(Y/n) leaned her chin on her hand and began to tap her fingers against her cheek as she looked around the dome shaped room.

Another meeting.

The beginning of this meeting had been more fruitful than whatever seemed to be taking place now. For a while, (Y/n) had chipped in with an opinion and she had smiled and felt butterflies swarming through her stomach when Geta grinned proudly at her suggestions and wrote them down. She felt like she was making a bit of a difference and that her opinions were valued. At least by her husband and brother in law.

But now the meeting had turned sour. It wasn't just raised voices, it was arguments going back and forth between different people. The men seemed to have split into segments, little huddling groups arguing over vastly different ideas and topics that were making less and less sense the more they argued.

(Y/n) wanted to go. She wanted to walk out and go take Arla for a walk. She wished she had brought her faithful pet into this meeting, at least then she could have someone to focus on and something to take her mind off her growing panic.

She found her eyes diverting to Geta again when he grunted and slammed his hand down on the table. He wasn't happy. Whatever had been suggested to him was now cast to one side and completely overruled.

She heard him utter "Do shut up." To one of the Senates and as much as his gruff voice should have been off-putting, it made (Y/n) smile inwardly. There was a rough edge to his voice that made (Y/n) shiver.

He was a sight to behold when he took charge like this.

Her eyes didn't stay on him for very long when a group of three Senates began to argue loud enough to start a brawl between them. (Y/n) lifted her head off her hand and sat up straighter in her seat as she observed them with worried, narrowed eyes.

She wasn't sure what they were arguing about, but fingers were wagging and hands were clenching and one began to tut and toss his head back in annoyance.

Another groan vibrated at the back of Geta's throat and he tossed his head back when he heard the familiar voice of Horin starting up an argument. Why did all of these men have to argue like little children fighting over their toys? Could they not grow up and act like men?

Even Geta and Caracalla had never acted in this manner when they were little, although most of their childhood had been spent in rigid tutoring sessions. And fending off their father's unwarranted anger that was always unleashed unfairly onto the twins.

With one hand on the table in front of him, Geta slowly twisted on his heels and let his head loll to one side as he looked for the arguing gentlemen. One brow arched up and his red lips parted with a sigh. The unamused look in his eyes should have been enough to ward off the argument, but the men were taking no notice of him. They didn't seem to notice Caracalla huffing with growing irritation and his foot tapping against the floor.

Those men didn't even have the nerve to raise their opinions to the Emperors, they were arguing between themselves rather than talking calmly with the rest of the room. After all, they would need the Emperors to agree with them if they wanted their point to be taken seriously or their matter to be decided upon. They couldn't make any decisions themselves. That was why Geta and Caracalla were here.

"That's ludacris!" One of them shrieked, and his voice was loud and high enough in pitch to echo off the walls.

Geta took one step away from the table and squared his shoulders before his eyes were casting to the left. He saw the way (Y/n) flinched. Her arms coiled around her chest and she seemed to pull in on herself like she was trying to make herself small and compact or to disappear.

The clear discomfort on her features did something to Geta. It made something twist horribly in his gut and his usually neutral expression weakened for a moment as he looked at her.

He was torn between wanting to go over and dispell the argument and wanting to veer towards his wife and make sure she was alright. It was becoming apparent that distinct and loud noises were unsettling to her and Geta didn't want her to be in those kind of situations if she didn't need to be or if it was going to upset her.

He paused somewhere in between both directions when one of the Senates lashed his hand out and knocked a silver tray of glasses off the table. The bundle of glasses clattered to the floor and fractured into hundreds of sparkling pieces that glimmered in the midday sun and sprinkled across the stone floor.

The tray, however, bounced and each time it hit the stone and wavered back up into the air it caused a horrible thunder to crack through the room.

(Y/n) gasped. She couldn't help it. Her knees coiled up, her eyes snapped closed and her trembling hands moved to cup over her ears to preserve them and save them from the echoing thuds that were getting louder and sending shockwaves through her system.

Her back pressed into the chair and she shrank down as her nails scratched through her hair and into her scalp. She wanted them to stop. Why did they have to resort to lashing out when their arguments were getting them nowhere? Why couldn't they talk things out like calm, sensible men?

The way (Y/n) reacted sealed Geta's direction and had him turning towards her. He needed to remove her from this situation before she got upset, and he needed all of these idiots bundled up in this room to understand that this kind of behaviour wasn't acceptable.

He would have made it towards (Y/n), if it weren't for Arelius's voice that stopped Geta in his tracks and sent all his blood rushing to his head.

"The Empress is but a child; a hindrance."

Geta moved before anyone could blink. He thundered in (Y/n)'s direction but walked three feet past her chair to where Arelius was standing. Clearly he either hadn't anticipated the Emperor hearing his words or he thought Geta might agree with him. The nerve!'

But it was the movement of his right hand, gripping the sword on his waist that made all murmurs cease and had all eyes on them.

He removed the sword strapped to his waist and yeilded it expertly, twisting his wrist and thrusting forward until the end of the blade was pressing uncomfortably against Arelius's trachea. He used the blade to tilt Arelius's head back until his neck was pressing out and showing off his Adam's apple and each gulp of air he took was visible to everyone in the room.

Nobody moved. Not a single word was uttered as they all waited in anticipation and slight horror to see what the Emperor would do.

Intrigue pooled in Caracalla's eyes as he pushed forward from the table he was leaning against, being the first person in the room to make a move. Although he didn't move far. He walked until he was stood beside (Y/n)'s chair almost as if he were acting as a guard for her. His head inclined to one side and a smile lit up his face, showing off his golden tooth as he watched his twin.

He was eager to see what Geta would do and if he would be the first Emperor to spill blood during a political meeting like this. Caracalla would certainly cheer him on and back him up if that was what his brother wanted to do.

"Out."

That one word seethed past Geta's lips as his chest rose and fell like the tides crashing against the shore. It felt like his lungs were going to burst and each breath was physically paining him. It was like Geta was controlling all of the rage inside of him and it was putting pressure on each and every organ within him. His stomach was churning. His heart was desperately trying to break free and wrap itself around (Y/n) and his nerves were twisting themselves into knots.

"I- I-"

"Emperor-" Whoever it was that tried to step in to dissolve the situation clamped their mouth shut immediately when Caracalla sneered at them. His brother didn't need any help sorting out this situation. The Emperors were in charge and they could serve out any punishment and give any command they saw fit.

"Out. Before the hilt is buried in your throat." To prove his point, Geta clenched his hand tighter around the blade and pushed until the tip of the sword began to scratch into Arelius's neck.

The sharp blade easily cut through the first few layers of skin and had a slow trickle of blood slithering directly down his throat and soaking into the pale cream robes he was wearing.

If he wanted his life to be spared then Arelius needed to back away and leave the room before Geta changed his mind. Because it was becoming more and more desirable to thrust his sword through the Senate's throat and watch it carve out the other side.

But he didn't want to do that; not in front of (Y/n). Not when Geta knew seeing blood being shed by his own hands would not push his wife into his open arms. He didn't want to do anything that would push her away or upset her any further. Geta never wanted to do that.

When Arelius stepped back and slowly removed his throat from being pressed into the blade, he watched how Geta's arm stayed locked in place. Holding his threat that he was one second away from following through with.

Arelius pressed his palm against his throat, gasping and swallowing heavily as he turned on his heels and departed the room like a mutt with its tail between its legs.

Once he was gone and the doors were swung wide open in his wake, Geta finally moved. His movements felt stiff and broken as he thrust his sword back into the belt strapped around his waist and he turned in his wife's direction.

She no longer had her hands clasped over her ears, but she was starting to shake and her eyes were focused on the floor like she was too afraid to look up and see the faces of all the people staring at them. At her.

Shivers coursed up and down (Y/n)'s spine and she gasped when Geta's hand was suddenly enveloped around her own and he pulled her to her feet. Her free hand curled around his arm and she hurriedly smothered her face into his arm and glued herself into his side like she wished she could use Geta as a shield to hide herself from everyone in this room.

"This meeting is over." Geta's voice was rugged and his jaw clenched tight as he steered (Y/n) towards the doors.

He wasn't waiting around to finish this rather pointless meeting. If no one could be civil and talk like adults rather than petty children then this wasn't going ahead. And Geta certainly wasn't sitting around and waiting for this to finish when (Y/n) was upset and needed to leave.

(Y/n) closed her eyes and meshed her face into the back of Geta's shoulder, allowing him to steer her down the hall and up the stairs. She didn't have to open her eyes to know where he was taking her. Their room. He wanted to talk and he wasn't doing that until they were in the privacy of their room with no prying ears trying to listen in.

She could feel each deep, ragged breath Geta took as he stormed up the stairs and practically kicked their chamber door open.

When he led her inside, (Y/n) slowly unravelled her hands from his arm and retracted from his side so she could sit down on the end of their bed. Her feet began to tap and jitter against the floor and her hands quickly fisted into her dress and her nails began to scratch up and down her knees.

Was Geta angry with her? Did he think she had caused a scene? Did he think she was a hindrance like the rest of his council seemed to believe?

"I'm sorry… I- I didn't mean to interrupt the meeting." (Y/n) kept her eyes cast down on her hands that were almost shaking as she scratched deeply into her knees to try and gain some control over her bubbling emotions. She didn't want to cry and she didn't want to seem weak, but Arelius's recent words had cut deep.

Her teeth sank down into her lower lip in a desperate attempt to keep a stoic expression on her face and keep any tears at bay. But her eyes went round when Geta's hand suddenly pressed beneath her chin and her head was tilted back to look up at him.

He stood in front of her, close enough that he was pressing up against her legs and his chin was aimed down so he could look down on her properly. But the way Geta's thumb traced her chin and reached up to brush along her lower lip had (Y/n) at a loss for words.

"What on God's Earth are you sorry for? It is Arelius who should be apologising to you."

(Y/n) didn't have a response to that. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say. Arelius had been cruel but his words had worried (Y/n). She worried she was becoming a hindrance, that Geta might regret marrying her or think she was weak or being silly or that she was interfering like Arelius had previously suggested. She would never want Geta to think of her like that.

"But you- you don't believe that I'm in the way, or need supervising, do you?"

The rage that seeped into Geta's eyes made (Y/n) want to cower down, but she knew that it wasn't directed at her. He wasn't angry with her. He was furious that someone would have suggested such a thing and made (Y/n) feel that way when there was absolutely no truth to the matter whatsoever.

Her eyes followed him as he seemed to debate whether to start pacing up and down the room or to sit beside her. He chose to sit down, against his better judgement considering how riled up he was now beginning to feel. His hand reached across to clasp around (Y/n)'s and when she leaned her head on his shoulder, Geta twisted to merge his lips with the top of her head.

"I don't believe that for a moment, my love." He murmured as he began to stroke his thumb up and down the back of her hand.

It was clear Geta was pushing the subject of Arelius to one side. He didn't want to upset (Y/n) any further and he would soon have a word with his brother and see what they could do to deal with this traitor and make an example of him. Because Geta wouldn't allow anyone else to think they could talk to (Y/n) like this or upset her.

He would try and push those thoughts to the back of his mind until he was in his brother's company. For now, he would focus on his wife and making sure that she was okay and happy.

"But you do not enjoy these meetings, do you?"

(Y/n) nudged her nose against Geta's shoulder, debating her answer and how truthful she wanted to be. "No, I don't. That room echoes, everything is too loud and their yells and anger are unnecessary; I don't like their shouts."

Anything such as those meetings or public events where they had to stand before a rowding crowd was unsettling. The games were even worse as the colosseum seemed to amplify any noise tenfold and deafen every spectator. (Y/n) didn't know how her husband could laugh and thrive in such environments as those.

"You don't have to attend any further meetings, my love." Geta's words clearly confused (Y/n) for she lifted her head from his shoulder with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

"But… but I should attend, it's my place-"

"Your place is always by my side, but I won't have you somewhere you don't feel comfortable. The Senate can't refuse if I excuse you from any and all further meetings you do not wish to attend."

If Geta told his council and the Senates that (Y/n) was not to attend any further meetings, that should be the end of it. They had no authority to question him or ask why or demand that (Y/n) attend. In the back of his mind Geta knew none of those fools would demand (Y/n) be at the meetings, they never asked her opinions, even if they thought what she said was credible once Geta asked for her advice.

They wouldn't bat an eyelid if she weren't there, although they would ask why. They could ask, but they wouldn't receive any response. Geta didn't have to explain any of his rulings to them, he answered to no one. Not even the Gods.

"You won't think bad of me?"

"Never. And anyone who questions your absence will meet their fate by my blade."

The feeling of his hand cupping her face was electrifying and when he tilted her head back so their lips could meet, his touch was heavenly. No one would question this and no one would have the right to make any comments. And Geta certainly wouldn't think bad of her.

He only wished for her happiness, and he would do whatever was in his power to make that happen.

[evilminji]

You know what? I just had A Thought(tm)~☆

Danny. Our bby boy. MINDING HIS BUSINESS. Maybe visiting one of his buddies in the Realms after he graduates. When he just?? Get full on tackled from the sky.

And like?

Huh.

THIS hasn't happened in a bit. Not since he's become king. Legit, no one dares. He's honestly kinda missed it. Alright, square up... Mr. Uuuuuh.... Who are you?

And it's this barely formed New Ghost. Still in that glitch-y goopy blob phase and everything. Is Baby. Why... why does this infant Want To Fight God? I mean. He Respects It(tm), no lie, but? Not exactly usual for him?

And it turns out? This dude is some rando hero. He basicly JUST died. By all rights SHOULD be resting and gathering his strength to Form Right. But he's so worried for his team mates and everyone else he CAN'T. Recognized a fellow Hero's Costume even at a distance.

Please. PLEASE! You have to help him! We have to WARN everybody!

And Danny is just? Oh no. This Actual Infant Baby is gonna Anxiety himself to Actual Second Death at this rate. Yes! Sure! Just CALM DOWN! Anything you need buddy! BREATHE.

And this dude? Who died? Is legit a minor player who got WAY too deep but refused to abandoned People In Need(tm). It happens. It HURTS. But he saved a LOT of lives before he went down. Him and his team were just some Minor Heros from Belarus. How they ended up in deep space? Even THEY couldn't tell you.

They couldn't even bring him home.

He forgives them.

He could NEVER blame his friends. Not for this. The planet is in danger. Some... some THING. An invasion. The League has to be made aware. He DIED helping a planet try to evacuate all that they could. He... at least he...

He can't remember if the Eggs got out. They... they're like babies. A whole room full of toddlers who couldn't run. They had to de-connect from the main building to lift it out. He can't... can't...

He saved them... right? Held on.. long enough? Why can't he.. he...

Danny has to make him focus be for the kid spirals. Don't think of your last moments. Purpose. You NEED to do something right now, right?

Right! The League! We gotta warn them! And... okay. Danny can totally do that. (What LEAGUE??!) He DEFINITELY knows who you are talking about and will tell them Right Away. YOU however are gonna rest up.

So he leaves the kiddo with Lunch Lady. Mother and Frightening Matriarch Extraordinaire. Lunch Box promises to SIT on him if he tries to sneak off. Good kid. Now eat your soup before you BECOME soup.

Time to bully the eyeballs. Whoms't the F*ck is this "league"? And where does he find it? Talk. He has sand and he's not afraid to use it. Don't MAKE him get out the pepper grinder! Yeah. That's what he THOUGHT.

After much, prolonged and unnecessary, whining and dramatic threatening... he gets a printed out map. Cheapskates even used flimsy paper. He gets there. Jaunt is even kinda nice. He says hi to a few folks he hasn't seen in a while.

Opens a portal.

Steps out.

Gets punched in the face. RUDE! He punches the flying blue man back. Dents their wall. Not even a LITTLE sorry about that now! See if HE does you a favor aga-... is that his Ex? John?

John! Constantine you B@STARD. YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS. *Ten different hands slap a twenty on the table at his feet, including Constantine. Who is refusing to look at anybody.* Well, okay then. Debt payed. Gonna buy himself a shake or something, after this.

ANYWAY~ Good News Or Bad News?

He is met with silence. It's like they've never seen an ethereal, giant, glowing man with a suit that looks like a cut out of the night sky, step out of an eye searing rip in reality before. Man they're lives must be boring. But frankly? Danny can wait. It's not HIS reality that's gonna get messed up. He can take care of it if the wanna be Wah Babies. Good News or Bad News??? Pick one.

He sits back in the air and waits.

@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites

[raineydays411]

My fathers daughter pt 12

It all comes out sometime

"Jay?" You ask.

"Yeah its me. How the fuck did you get access to the coms?" He asks amused at your actions.

"Trust me hacking this isn't any harder than hydra files" You say passively, " Anyways that's not important, I think I can help with this Joker thing."

"Wait? Really?" He ask seriously, "Y/n, listen carefully, I need you to go into Bruce's office and find the big ass clock --"

"Yeah I already found the secret hide out" You say annoyed, "Mommy dearest kicked me out before I could tell her how I could help."

Jason sighed, knowing that his mother probably tried to use her mom voice on you. " Yeah, she told us she didn't want you to be in the whole vigilante think."

The anger that was simmering under your skin came back, but before you let it get the best of you, you continued. Knowing that this information was more important than whatever mommy issues you had.

"Right, well that's not important." You say," Listen to me now."

"I'm listening." Jason grunted, sounding like was punching someone,

"Whatever chemical agent Jackass put in his venom is the exact same stuff that was used to brainwash the Winter Soldier" You say quickly.

"Kid, I wanna believe you but how do you know that? Tim was just able to get a sample and process it."

"Because, I was told that every antidote you use only makes the effects stronger right?"

"Right" He says strained

"In order to make sure that the Winter Soldier stayed the Winter Soldier and not Bucky, Hydra had to make sure his brain produced a certain amount of hormones. And that whatever anybody used, the effects couldn't reverse. Hence chemical X."

"Chemical X?"

"The name is to long for me to attempt to pronounce, anyways, lucky for us, my daddy just so happened to create a serum that undoes Chemical X. And if I check," You pause, taking over the computer downstairs, and checking the sample Tim had sent in, " The component is there."

"Well I'll be damned"

"Exactly. Now, I need you to find a lab or something. This serum was made with the intention of being made on the fly. So everything you need should be there." You say pulling up a map of Gotham general.

"Wait, I need to tell Bruce." Jason said, " Joker said he had the only antidote and he's fighting him right now"

"No thats not possible. The only ones who know about it is my father and I." You said worridly.

Meanwhile while you were upstair lending a helping hand, downstairs Christine and Alfred were panicking because they lost control of Jason's com and the main computer.

'Alfred I can't find him" Christinen cried, " How did he just disappear like that?

"I don't know miss, there's no possible way he could've."

"Wait." Christine says looking up to the screen, " Bruce and Tim are gone"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How did you get con-"

"It's not important" You say cutting Batman off, " Listen to me, Joker doesn't have the cure."

"How do you know that?" The dark knight asks skeptically

"Because, until my dad figured it out, there was no cure." You say impatiently, " This chemical wasn't intended to have a cure."

"But you figured it out?"

"YES" You shout frustrated at the constant repetition, " DO you want the step by step or do you want to save lives?"

"hm" Bruce grunted, " And you know how to make it?"

"I do." You say earnestly

There was a pause, you heard grunting and what sounded like fighting in the background.

On Bruce's side, he managed to get the Joker disarmed and tied up.

He searched him for what he claimed was the vial containing the cure. But upon finding it, the Joker decided to throw his head back connecting with Batman's face. The sudden impact caused him to drop the vial, shattering it on the linoleum floor. The liquid oozing out and burning a hole into the floor.

"Ooops" the Joker cackled, " Aww poor Batsy, I guess I may have told a little white lie"

As Bruce rose from the floor, Robin ran in holding another vial

"Batman, the antidote." He says with a stern look on his face.

The smug smile fell from the Jokers face as he looked at the preteen.

"Thats...that's not possible!" Joker cried out, " There is no cure. There was never a cure."

Batman looked Joker straight in the eye, " No Joker, it looks like you miscalculated."

And with that, a swift punch to the face knocked the Joker out. A breath of relief flowed from the Batfamily. Now they can focus on what really mattered, helping the infected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in your room you paced, after explaining how to make the cure, you hadn't hear back from the family. The anxiety you had building up in you made your heart feel as of it was going to explode.

"Y/n" Jasons voice came from your computer, " It worked."

You felt like crying, " Really? Are you for real?'

"No I'm lying and everyone died" Jason said sarcastically, " Yes I'm for real."

"Thank god" You said wetly

"Oh god are you crying?" Jason said uncomfortably

"No." and with that you disconnected, allowing access back to the main computer downstairs. After doing that you sat on your be, taking a couple deep breaths to calm yourself. But the tears kept flowing. You were so worried that you didn't get the information to Bruce on time. You were worried about the people that were exposed for too long. The ones that the antidote may not have worked on.

You may have been able to help a few but how many more could you have saved if you were listened to right away. The anger simmered back in your body.

You hated that Christine treated you as if you were a child. She completely disregarded what you had to say and took a shot at your father. At least he was smart enough to know that you were capable of more than just sitting and twiddle your thumbs.

You had half a mind to go down there and give her a piece of you mind. But before you could, a chime came from your phone

"Hey Starky! guess who's on the neighborhood <3"

Wade?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the Batman co. finally made it back to the cave they all were exhausted. Every single one of them wanted to get home and take a shower. Dick and Jason would be staying at the manor simply because they couldn't muster up the energy to make their respective journeys back home. Damian and Cass were knocked out in the back of the batmobile and even Bruce was having a hard time staying awake while driving.

Honestly, ever since his family was created, Bruce/Batman became less about vengeance and more about protecting the city that he and his family live and care about. And maybe, if there was anyway that he can help mend the relationship between your family and his, perhaps you can be a part of his team as well, as sad at it was to say your hacking skills were way above his and Tims.

Lost in thought, Bruce didn't realized that when he pulled in Christine was in borderline hysterics and Alfred looked a little more frazzled than usual.

"Oh! Bruce!", Christine cried throwing herself into the confused bat, " What happened?! Is everyone one okay?"

"Christine, darling what are you-" Bruce was puzzled, Christine always had somewhat of a flair for the dramatics but there should be no reason for her to be this worried, especially because she's able to see everything .

"I thought we lost you! All of you!" Christine cried, eyes welling up with tears," The coms cut our for what felt like hours and then the main computer crashed! Me and Alfred both were barely able to get it rebooted before you got here!"

"Wait, if the main computer crashed then how was Y/n able to talk to us through the coms?" Tim asked tiredly, only jolting awake when Jason harshly elbowed him, signaling him to shut up about your participation.

"What do you mean? Y/n has been in her room this whole time." Christine says with a look of confusion on her face.

The batfamily all looked at each other, silently daring each other to step up and tell the truth, and face the wrath of their mother. Even Bruce didn't want to rat you out, knowing where Christine stood on her thoughts of you being involved.

Now don't get the wrong idea, Christine is by definition an overprotective mother. Theres no doubt about that. But there is a reason as to why she wants you out of the hero life and spot life in general.

Firstly, you are Tony Stark's daughter. There is no getting around that. And being Tony Stark's daughter also means you're Iron Mans daughter. And that is the whole reason you are there in Gotham in the first place. Amidst all the familial drama, everybody seemed to forget that you are still being hunted by an anonymous group. But Christine hasn't. Every night she lies awake worried to death that that was the night they found you. That they would come for you.

Secondly, the villians that her husband and family deal with are...for lack of words psychoic. If they figured out that you, Iron mans daughter, was helping their enemy Batman there would be more people after you. And from what Christine has witnessed these people do, the horrors and atrocities they casually commit. That frightens her even more.

So, with that being said, the look on her families face and the circumstances that had just occurred, it wasn't hard for her to figure out the cause of their technical malfunctions. And what a coincidence that these malfunctions only happened after you were sent to your room.

"Bruce.", Christine said in a clam even tone, " What are you not telling me." She didn't ask she demanded.

"Darling." Bruce said in a pleading tone, " It was a long night for everybody, why don't we just discuss it in the morning"

"Discuss it in the morning?" Christine asked incredulously, " Discuss it in the morning?! Do you know how worried I was? How worried WE were" She gestures to herself and Alfred who looked mildly uncomfortable to be put in the argument, " We thought you were injured or worse DEAD!"

The kids tried to slowly back out, inching towards the elevator that you totally didn't know was there.

"Don't even think about it" Christine said without looking at them, " How dare you all? How dare you? I asked ALL of you for one simple thing. Just one. To keep her OUT of it."

"Christine that's hardly fair-" Bruce started to say before getting cut off.

"No! It is totally fair! There are PEOPLE after her. People who are still out there by the way! Tony and his team haven't been able to find them! They keep slipping away whenever they get close! They are out there, trying to get MY daughter, for god knows what!"

Bruce glances towards the staircase entrance but before he can say anything Christine goes on, " DO you understand how hard it has been to keep anything from this world from her!"

"Ma she grew up in this world, it's not fair to just cut her out" Jason cuts in, " She feels left out because we're all pretending like we aren't who we are and pretending as of we don't have The Tony Starks daughter in our house. She's not a civilian, she's in it."

"She is not just Tonys daughter she's mine too!" Christine shouts before tears start to drop from her eyes, " Shes MINE, she can't be taken from me."

In the batmobile, Cass buries her face into a sleeping Damians chest.

"Mom, do you think any of us would let that happen?" Dick finally speaks up, " I mean, come on have a little faith"

" I just wanted her to stay out of it, to get out for good."

" Darling, that girl was not made to stay out of things, look at whp her parents are," Bruce chuckled, " Besides, she's never going to come around if we don't fully open ourselves up to her as well."

"You have to admit Ma, fighting is the only way any of us bonded" Jason says, " Except me, she likes me."

"I don't know why " Dick says with a frown, still bitter at the fact that you had bonded with Jason before him.

Christine sniffled before saying, " I still need to go talk to her, the way she cut us off was unacceptable."

"But-" Tim finally spoke out but it was too late, Christine was already marching to the elevator, mind made up about scolding you for what she thought was a practical joke.

The rest of the team was left in the Bat cave shaking their heads at their mothers stubbornness.

Bruce's sighed and started to put things away, " There's going to be fight and I don't want to be in the middle of that."

The three awake boys nodded.

" Someone wake up Damian and Cass, they need to go to bed."

Jason and Dick pushed Tim forward, if there was one other thing they didn't want to get in the middle of, was those two and their sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back upstairs you were filled to the brim with anger. You had gone downstairs to greet the returning heroes and rub your success in Christines face, only to overhear what you had already confirmed.

Christine had been purposefully keeping things from you. Not only about Bruce being Batman ( Which you already knew), but about your situation.

See, when you had first moved to Gotham, you knew that there would be almost little to no contact with your family. The few times you were able to talk to someone from back home it wasn't even your parents. Something about phone lines being traceable and unreliable.

The only line of communication was given to you by Natasha before you left, a single flip burner phone that was only to be used for emergencies.

But Christine apparently was getting updates directly from your father. Updates you were sure were meant to be given to you. So not only had she had a hand in the intentional isolation of you from her family, she was trying to isolate you from yours as well.

It made you so angry! You already have sacrificed so much just to be here and you didn't even want to be there in the first place. You ripped open your laptop and went to do a little digging. Upon doing that, you found about a dozen of lengthy emails from your father describing in great lengths about your situation and details about life back home. These emails were obviously meant to be read by you and they all were marked as read and filed away. How they got to the Batcomputer was unknown to you but as you scanned each word tears welled up into your eyes, you father had not forgot about you.

You sat on the bed, taking deep breaths trying to calm down. You managed to restrain yourself and not blow up at that woman in front of her whole family and you really were trying to calm down so you can have a mature conversation about it.

You were trying.

but then, "Y/n Stark how dare you disobey your mother!"

What?

"What?" You say eyes ripping open and anger finally bubbling over

"How dare you! I asked you for one thing! All I wanted was to make sure my family would have been okay!"

"And are they dead?" You ask bluntly, " Is everyone who was infected dead?"

Christine turned red, " That is not the point young lady and I don't appreciate you talking about your family like that."

"They are NOT my family!" You shout, " You are not my family"

'Y/n" Christine start but now you were the one to cut her off

"NO, and since we are on the topic of not appreciating things lets talk about how I don't appreciate how you have been deliberately LYING to me."

"Excuse me?" Christine asks angrily, " I will have you know that I do not have to disclose every single piece of information I have to yo."

" Not even when it's about my own father." You said with an even tone, " Or do you not have to disclose that piece of information to me."

Christine lifts her chine, " Y/n I have no idea what you are talking about?"

"Oh you don't?" You ask," So you and your husband aren't hiding emails from my father to me in that big ass computer?"

Eyes widen, " How do you -"

"How do I know about that?" You mock, " So it's true?"

"Y/n that's not the point" Christine started, " Your practical joke could have seriously put the lives of your siblings in danger."

" My siblings?" You ask, " They are not my siblings! I don't even know those people!"

Christine stays quiet, then shakes her head, " If you would just come out of the room and get to know them other than Jason-"

"Why so they could tell me how great you are?' You say, " So they can tell me memories they have of you being a good mother to them?"

Christine's eyes well up with tears, " Y/n that's not fair"

"Oh that not fair to you, mom?" you shout, " And it was so fair to me when you left me to raise another kid?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the hallway Dick and Jason are paused half way up the staircase.

Dicks heart falls into his stomach at your comment, knowing that that kid you were talking about was him.

Jason on the other hand had a grim look on his face. He knew that this conversation needed to happen in order for anything to move on.He knew the years of resentment you were holding on to. It wasn't fair to you that everyone in this house had this subconscious expectation that you should just put those years behind you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That is not what happened" Christine says wetly, " It was just hard, Y/n you don't understand."

"Hard?!" You shout angerliy, " It was hard? Hard for you to visit your daughter once every three fucking months? Was it hard for you to lead my dad on then crush his heart every time you left?"

"NO Y/N thats not true" Christine shouted but before she could continue you went on

"No???" you mocked, " Then what was it mom?"

" Everytime I went to see you, you had grown." Christine sniffs, " You had grown and had new adventures and stories and milestones that i was not a part of. I-"

"OH bullshit!" You shout

"Y/n." Christine says sadly

"NO, no you don't get to play that card! You left by choice!" You cry, " You left me by choice, you hid me away by choice! You chose this life for us."

" I loved you so much. I LOVE you so much Y/n!"

"You have a funny way of showing it." You say dryly, " You have this perfect life here. Perfect husband, a shit load of kids who adore you. I adored you. Why wasn't I enough?"

Christine's heartbroke and she couldn't answer you because truthfully, she didn't have an answer.

"And the one parent I was enough for I had to leave. I had to leave him and my mother behind for my other one who didn't want me. And I'm stuck in a house full of these kids who adore you and didn't know that I adored you well before them. And yet even though I'm here I'm alone. And that still isn't enough for you."

Christine wanted to say you weren't alone. You weren't because you have her. She's here for you, but that wasn't true. She hadn't been there. She wasn't there even when she was.

"You had to make me think my father forgot about me the way you did for what? So I can like you again? So I could forget all the times you promised you were going to come see me and you didn't? Why?"

"I..I just wanted to keep you safe.." Christine spouted pathetically.

"Safe?" You said, herding her towards your door, " No, everything you've done is because you want to look better. You're selfish. That's what you've always been"

And with that you slam the door in her face, startling the boys on the stairs and Christine as she didn't even realize that she was in the hallway.

Staring at your door she wept. For once, truly feeling the regret that she said she had been feeling. She did truly love you, she had not lied about that. To hear you finally say how you weren't enough for her broke her heart.

"Ma..are you okay?" Jason softly asked as Dick went to knock at your door, a bit angry at the way you spoke to his mother,

"Leave her be." A soft voice demanded from the hallway, " Dick, leave her be. Your mother was not the only one hurt in that conversation."

Bruce walked to Christine, and gently lead her to their room.

Upon the commotion outside, no one heard you open your window and slip out.

"It's about time, I almost died waiting for you."

"You can't die, that's your whole thing." You reply, wiping tears from your face.

"You're crying." Wade says in an unnaturally serious voice, " Do I have to kill your hot mom?"

You cringe, " No, just get me out of here."

"I could do that, actually I have a surprise for you~" He sings as he leads you to his taxi...

You heard what sounds like banging coming from the trunk and you're slightly scared to open it.

"Wade.."

"Oh don't be a pussy" He says opening the trunk.

Popping out with a gasp is

"Peter?" You say with a sigh, eyes welling up with tears again. You truly have missed your friends.

"That was not cool Wade!" He shouts, not grasping where he was, " The trunk smelled like nachos and vomit! I couldn't nngh-"

He grunts as you throw yourself into his arms, " Y/n.."

His arms wrap around you tightly, " Y/n what are you.. Where am I?"

"Gotham, now get me the hell out of here."

And with that, you're loaded into the car, taking the backseat with Peter and Wade in the front with an Indian man.

"Y/n this is Dopiender"

"Hello ms. Stark, I promise I will defend you with my life."

"Oh...well, thank you."

"This was surprisingly easy." Wade said as they pulled out of the long driveway, " Bruce Wayne should update his security."

What they didn't know, was that a pair of bright green eyes watched your reunion through the security camera in the Batcave. Squinting as they saw the tears flow freely through your face and noting the license plate and the men you were with.

[bl0oregardf0ster]

Foster's Imaginary World character info No. 3!

"Wilt is a sweet and kind friend! Always helping those who need it the most! Despite his over-apologetic tendencies and other personal problems, never mistake his kindness for weakness!As he also can stand up not only for himself, but also for those he cares!"

- Fosterview's info sheet on Wilt

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

Requirements!

✐ 3280 ichor

✐ Get 100% research on Twisted Wilt

✐ Complete all Lu-Lu mastery missions

"He really is such a kind soul... Very kind..."

- Madam Foster's dialouge upon purchase

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

Stats!

Health 🖤💗💗

Skill Check 🌟🌟🌟

Movement Speed 🌟🌟🌟

Stamina 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

Stealth 🌟🌟

Extraction Speed 🌟🌟

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

Abilities!

Quick dash ⟬Active⟭

Wilt will dash forward in a long straight-ish direction ⟬Literally Flutter/Rudie but longer range⟭ while also getting a small speedboost for 5 seconds

⟬Cooldown: 30 Seconds⟭

My friends are my motivation ⟬Passive⟭

For every player alive ⟬including Wilt⟭, Wilt will gain 5% extra movement speed. If a player dies, the extra speed will decrease ⟬Literally Boxten but with speed⟭

Ability dialouges!

"Coming through!"

"Wohoah! Sorry!"

"Excuse me!"

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

Skins!

Exclusive!

Vintage ⟬mastery⟭

St☆r-Time ⟬GamePass⟭

Who you gonna call? ⟬Halloween⟭

Caramel filling choco ball ⟬Summer⟭

Gijinka-inated ⟬April Fools⟭

Opposite AU ⟬April Fools⟭

Wrapped up present ⟬Winter⟭

Love-struck ⟬Valentines day⟭

Normal! ⟬THESE SKINS ARE REFERENCES LOL⟭

Golden music star

Stage fright suit

Clean-work apron

Strawberry baker

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

Interactions!

Wilt "Ed! Are you okay?"

Eduardo "When will this end? I'm asustado..."

Wilt "Don't worry! This'll all be over soon... I promise!"

Eduardo "Gracias señor Wilt!"

Wilt "No problem!"

Bloo "Come on Wilt!"

Wilt "Bloo please..."

Bloo "Come on... Aren't you kind enough to help anybody?"

Wilt "..."

Wilt "Okay..."

Wilt "Larry..."

Foul Larry "Wilt..."

Wilt "..."

Foul Larry "..."

Wilt "... Just... Stay away... Is that okay..?"

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

Twisted Form

Rarity

Main Character

Appearance

Twisted Wilt's appearance resembles a broken down, torn appart puppet. The puppet design is pretty much a metaphor to how Wilt's kindness gets taken advantage of like if he was a puppet. And as for details... What was left of broken arm was completely ripped off, and as for his other, it has been turned into a long thin claw. His wonky eye has been torn off as well, and so are his legs, instead his torn appart legs have been replaced by red strings, in which he uses for traveling when someone triggers him. His whole body is covered in red strings with ichor stains on them. And as for his set expression, his expression is that of a FORCED smile.

Research Info

"One of the main character's in Foster's Imaginary World. His kindness was completely taken advantage of, being used like a useless puppet while being torn apart in the process... Unlike most of them, this Twisted likes to stay quiet and alone unless someone provokes him... To survive? Avoid the red strings..."

Stats

Speed: His speed is apar with Twisted Glisten!

Vision: Average

Attention Span: 6.5 seconds

Special abilities

Throught the map there will be red strings stained with ichor scattered everywhere, just like Twisted Bloo, this is a trigger trap. And unlike most Twisteds, Twisted Wilt is an activation Twisted! If you step on the red strings, you'll get trapped, to get out, you should perform a successful skill check, however, this will activate Twisted Wilt, which will come rushing towards you to attack you

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

Trinket!

Signature team wristband

Increases walk and run speed by 15.5% but decreases stamina regeneration by 5.0%

✧❁❁❁✧✿END! THANKS FOR READING!✿✧❁❁❁✧

@blo0st4r

@themangolover724 (sorry for bugging you, but i pretty much found out that you were also making your own FHFIF x DW AU, so i decided to tag you just in this post! Is that okay? :] )

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

With Friends Like These: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: In the aftermath of Emily's death, everyone is grieving in their own way. This case forces Spencer to face the truth about his own well-being and the well-being of his mother.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal deaths/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

You two walk back into the main room, and you give Hotch a nod to let him know he can begin.

"We believe our unsub is a white male paranoid schizophrenic who suffers from hallucinations. Since schizophrenic breaks usually occur in your early twenties, we believe he's around this age and that he lives nearby." Spencer becomes worried so you put a hand on his shoulder to let him know that you're here for him. "We think this unsub is hypervigilant, and in this condition, he's unable to travel very far from his home."

"He kills at night and is extremely violent. During the day, he's most likely a loner. Someone in this state probably can't keep a job. We believe something happened to our unsub in his childhood. The childhood voices are telling him to kill, or he's misinterpreting them as doing so."

Spencer starts playing with his fingers nervously, so you rub his back in comfort.

"Our unsub has probably been coping until now, but a recent stressor brought him back to that childhood incident and is causing him to act out. Our unsub spends his days wandering, trying to fight the desire to kill, yet he feels trapped by his hallucinations. No matter what he does or tries to do, the hallucination's power is greater than his own. Because of his limited social circle as a child, it is our belief that the incident involved close friends or family. Once we figure out what happened when he was a kid and the stressor that recently triggered a relapse, we'll be that much closer to narrowing down the killer's identity."

"Reid?" Hotch asks.

Spencer snaps out of his trance and grabs a map of the area with shaky hands. His confidence drops several points and is more quiet than usual. This whole case is throwing him off and it makes you sad to see it.

"We need you all to start searching in this area. Based on previous kills, we know that he strikes at night and will not retreat until we find him. Excuse me."

Spencer leaves and heads to the bathroom while the rest of the team finishes the profile briefing. When you're done, you approach Derek who also has a look of concern on his face.

"Is he okay?" he asks.

You shake your head. "Maybe you can talk to him."

Derek walks into the men's bathroom and sees Spencer looking at himself in the mirror.

"You know, that profile kind of makes it sound like schizophrenia leads to serial killing," Spencer sighs.

"That's not what we said at all, Reid."

"My mom has schizophrenia. There are many different types."

"I know that."

"Catatonic, disorganized... Just because someone suffers from an inability to organize their thoughts or can't bathe or dress themselves, it doesn't mean they'd stab someone in the chest thirty times postmortem," Spencer says angrily.

"Reid, what's really going on?"

"Our unsub's hallucinations aren't fractured like a typical schizophrenic. They're vivid and clear, leading me to believe that we're missing an important variable. Rather than making crazy conjectures, I think we should be trying to figure out what it is."

"I know this is a scary age for you. It's when schizophrenic breaks happen. Have you talked to anybody about this?"

"Y/N."

"Listen to me. That woman loves you. Even I know that if you went down that road, she'd stick by your side. You have a support person in her. Lean on her. That's what she's there for."

"Yeah, I know," he whispers.

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"Yeah. Multiple ones. They all say I'm fine.

"Then why don't you believe them?"

"Because predicting one's chances of developing a genetic condition is like finding a penny in an ocean. I have terrible headaches. I can't sleep at night. I can't focus on our cases. I only read five books last week."

"Come on, kid, you gotta cut yourself some slack. You're also depressed about Prentiss, and I get it... We all are. Reid, I miss her every day, but if your mind was splitting, do you really think you'd be able to figure out that this team is missing a variable?"

"I'm just speculating that we are. You need to prove it."

"Then you do that. The moment you are wandering around the streets aimlessly, that's when I'll be concerned about you. Come on, Pretty Boy. Let's get to work."

Both men leave the bathroom, and Spencer sees you waiting outside of it casually. Derek walks off and Spencer approaches you with a tired smile.

"Are you going to be okay?" He nods and kisses you. "What was that for?"

"For always being there for me."

"You never have to thank me for that. I will always be here. Maybe after this case, we can go to another doctor if you want."

"No, I just want to spend it with you in bed."

"I can do that," you grin.

You sling your arm through his and start walking back toward the others.

"I only read five books this week."

"Want to make it six? It can be my turn to read to you."

"Yeah," he smiles. "I'd like that."

Penelope is on the phone when you enter the conference room.

"Because of HPPA laws, I can't get information on twenty-something-year-olds who've had schizophrenic breaks."

"Check police records. Maybe he's been arrested."

"Oh, I should have thought of that. Blame the fumes." She types. "Six kids have been locked up in the last month within a forty-mile radius."

"Any of them for theft?"

"Mugging, lewd behavior, and car theft."

"Go through personal information. Maybe they've had run-ins with the law when they were younger."

"Yes, sir, I am on that."

"You know, at the grocery store where Holly was shopping the night she was murdered, the clerk said the unsub was buying water and a lot of salt. Now, it can be used to remove blood from clothing, but think about this. The visions that schizophrenics have can be interpreted as demons. What do some people do when they think they have demons inside of them?"

"They get an exorcism," Derek answers. "Holy water and salt are used in exorcisms."

Spencer looks for the Yellow Pages and sifts through the book.

"What are you looking for?" Ashley asks.

"The number of churches in the comfort zone. There are three."

"Let's see if any of them keep their doors open late," Hotch says.

Only one of them is open late so you and Spencer immediately head over to it before they close. The only person inside is the priest who looks a little shaken up. Either he was just involved in something heavy or the unsub paid him a visit. Considering you see the stretched-out energy, it's the latter.

"He came here in duress about two hours ago," the priest says after introductions.

"What did he say?" you ask.

"He said... He said voices were blaming him for a fire, and he needed me to get rid of them."

"Did he ask you for an exorcism?"

"Yes. He claimed his mother had taken him to get one when he was young. I couldn't do it. Throughout history, people have confused possession with mental illness. Some still do. Nowadays, most churches turn people like him over to medical professionals."

"I'm assuming he didn't take your rejection well," you say.

"He was very angry."

"He didn't attack you? He didn't threaten you in any way?"

"No."

"He's probably gotten help from the church before," Spencer says to you. "Was there anything else about his behavior that you found odd? Like something he maybe said or did?"

"No. I told you everything. Oh, there is one thing. He had a stutter."

You and Spencer leave and call Penelope to tell her the new information. She will get on it right away since this has been a problem in the unsub's life for so long.

"Psychogenetic stuttering begins in the area of the brain that controls thoughts and reasoning. It's most commonly associated with mental illness," Spencer explains, "which means it's either caused by the schizophrenia medication or maybe it's situational."

"The presence of it along with the fire information should help Penelope narrow down her list."

Reports of another murder come in and since you and Spencer are closer to the scene, you two head over there immediately. Detective Colbern meets you there with the crime scene unit. This time, he's murdered an elderly woman in her bedroom. The same energy as before is everywhere inside the house only this time, it's messier than before. It's only a matter of time before he'll hurt himself to get the hallucinations to stop.

"This victim's a lot older than his other ones, Y/N. She must represent something to him. Maybe his mother who had him exorcised? Now that he can't get one, he's taking his anger out on a surrogate."

You look at the body and frown when you see another imprint in the blood.

"No, why?"

"There's a body imprint next to her. Why would the unsub lie down next to a person he's just killed?"

"He slept here," Spencer says. "Look at the number of stab wounds." Spencer counts them. "Seventy-one. Do you know how physically exhausting it would be to stab someone seventy-one times? It's hard enough to stab someone ten times, but seventy-one? He'd be completely worn out."

"He's accelerated wound counts which means he does it intentionally."

"Why?" Detective Colbern asks.

"Wait, that's it. If you add the increased number of stab wounds and the fact that he slept here to the vivid hallucinations and the unexplainable onset of stuttering, you get the missing variable. This guy's an insomniac."

"Just as adrenaline makes a person love the feeling of killing, once it leaves the body it makes them tired."

"He does this all to sleep?"

"The insomnia is what makes the hallucinations so clear, and sleep is the only release that he has from them."

Since it's so late and you don't think the unsub will hurt anyone else tonight, you have to pick things up in the morning. You only get a few hours of sleep but it's enough for the time being.

"Okay, here we go," Penelope says. "I looked at that list of schizophrenics that have been recently arrested in that forty-mile radius. I cross-checked it with ones that have gone to local pharmacies to get schizophrenia medication like Thorazine or Prolixin. There is only one person. Ben Foster."

"It's likely he uses the money from the stolen items to buy the pills," Ashley says.

"What's his background, baby girl?"

"He moved to Portland three years ago. A month ago, he was in an apartment fire after which he got a sleeping pill medication because his insomnia began again. Oh, my. When he was ten, he was questioned during an investigation about a fire that killed three people. I'm looking at the police report right now. It turns out that two months before, his mom had a local minister perform an exorcism on him, and the three people who were killed in the fire helped perform that exorcism."

"Was Ben charged?" you ask.

"No, he was acquitted in juvie court."

"Do you have an address?"

"2627 Halden Way."

You don't waste time in getting to his house. "Be careful! He's aggressive and highly violent. He will lash out."

You and Derek head to the right side of the house while Spencer and Detective Colbern take the left. Rossi and Hotch go through the house. As soon as you turn the corner, you see Ben fleeing from the home... alone.

"He's out back!" Derek yells.

You and Derek follow Ben as fast as you can, but he's a bit faster than you. The neighborhood has tons of houses on either side of the alleyway so there are a million and one places for Ben to hide. You see him jump the fence into the alley and start sprinting away. There is a locked gate that's blocking your way so you have to go around. By the time you get to the alley, Ben is gone.

With his energy, there is no hiding from you. His energy leads into a random house through the back, and you point to the house.

"He's in there. There are two children there. Hotch, do you copy?"

"On our way."

When everyone gets there, he takes the font while, Spencer takes the back, and you and Derek take the side. Inside, he's holding a little girl and her younger brother at knifepoint.

"Ben, drop the knife," Hotch orders.

"Shoot me," he cries.

"Ben, we're not gonna shoot you, but we do need you to put down that knife, okay?" There is no reasoning with Ben so Spencer tries a different tactic. "Where are the other people in this room, Ben?"

"Right there," he points behind Spencer. "Do you see them?"

"Were they there for the exorcism?"

"Mm-hmm. I didn't kill them, though. I didn't do it." He looks behind Spencer. "I'm not lying!"

"Ben, they're dead and they can't hurt you anymore," you say.

"They can't?"

"No. Your mind is playing tricks on you. Once you get help, it'll all stop."

Ben looks at the spot behind Spencer as if his hallucinations are talking to him. He shakes his head but then cries.

"Alright, I killed you. I set the fire!"

"Ben, listen to me. It's okay. We're gonna get you a doctor's help. I promise you that."

"No. The... The only way that you can help me is if you do it... If you kill me."

"Ben, that's not true," Spencer says. "Listen, the only way we can help you is if you drop the knife."

There is no reasoning with Ben, and the only way you're going to get him to stop is if you force him. He won't go on his own.

"Are you sure that'll work?"

"Don't reason with him," you warn.

"Oh, I'm absolutely sure of it. Put that knife down, okay?"

Ben nods and he pushes the kids away from him gently, and the kids run behind Hotch. Ben only takes a second before lunging at Spencer. You're way ahead of him and shoot his shoulder which is enough to take him down.

"We need an ambulance," Spencer says to the cops outside of the house through his earpiece.

His hallucinations might never go away but you hope they get better in time. The case took a lot out of Spencer so when you two get back home in your own beds, all he wants to do is snuggle and listen to you read. You open to the first page of his favorite book and begin reading, and he rests his head on your chest.

Frank watches you through his cameras, a smirk adorning his face. This couldn't go better for him if he tried. Emily dying makes his life so much easier because it's easier for him to take it out on you. For the entire time you were away, all he could think about were Spencer's words.

"I've thought about turning back to Dilaudid."

He picks up his phone and dials a good friend. It pays to have friends in different industries, and he makes sure to make as many friends as he can.

"You only call for one reason and one reason only, Frank, but I'm hoping this is a social call."

"Your hope is poorly misplaced. Are you still a pharmacist?"

"You know that I am. How else do I supply to you and all of your friends? My drugs come in handy when parents know their children are in danger. I like it when they fight hard," he chuckles.

Frank chuckles at the memory of a particular mom who wouldn't give up. He still has the scar on his face from where she dug her nails into him.

"Can you get my Dilaudid?"

"It'll cost you."

"How much?" Frank sighs.

"Oh, you know I've been wanting to adopt one of your kids for a while. That's what you're calling it these days? Adoption?"

Frank clenches and unclenches his fists. If Kyle was here, he'd punch him in the face for manipulating him.

"Fine. You can have one," he grits out.

"Good man. How much do you need?"

".1mg."

Frank doesn't want to kill Spencer. Not yet. For now, he just needs to scare you.

"It is not his enemy or foe that lures him to evil ways." - Siddharta Buddha

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[heretyc]

Tips for dealing with the Jaeger/Henrietta

While this event is fun, it's also been a pain, especially in the newer trials. I've played a few trials already [one of the newer Barbi ones and the older ones] and I thought I'd make this in case anybody's curious or having difficulties.

Jaeger is a one hit kill; if you get caught by her, you're instakilled. She's nothing like the other big grunts, she's a one hit instakill that you need to avoid at all costs. Thankfully she's slow as hell and you can slow her down with doors [locking them and Barricade] but keep in mind she can't be stunned with projectiles, nor will she act like a normal ex-pop. She's a homing missle who knows where you are at all costs. If you've played Resident Evil, she's exactly like the Nemesis and Mr. X. [Even Mr. X could get lost, though.]

If you're a hider or fond of hiding, don't hide. That may sound obvious, but if you're stuck with an ex pop or a prime asset, run instead; they get extremely confused if you run around a corner. If you're doing an objective [like Grind the Bad Apples or Reunite the Family] then hiding will just allow Jaeger to close distance and you're letting the prime asset guard the area once again. Take advantage of dark rooms.

Don't expect your trials to be short; Reunite the Family is one of the easiest for me to finish and even Jaeger made it last over 20 minutes. Expect to have to lure Jaeger away.

When luring her away from objectives or areas you need to be in, do NOT take shortcuts, take long ways. Jaeger will, too, take shortcuts and easily catch up with you.

Much like the prime assets, she's not hard to hear whatsoever. That creepy "radio" noise she makes is audible and easy to distinguish, especially on Suburbs.

The best maps against her are outdoor ones. Coyle's a babe but his maps are literally awful because of the amount of rooms and corners they have. The only exception to this is the Orphanage map with Gooseberry because it has outdoor areas.

Please, for the love of God, do not try to lure her close to you then run around her if you're stuck in a dead end like you would with other ex-pops or prime assets. She will immediately home in on you and cut distance.

Not fun.

The best trial to farm this event on is Reunite the Family; quick, easy, and Gooseberry is easy to hide from whilst in that room. [This is my opinion, of course.] Liquidate the Union is also pretty good, but seeing as it's new, you might struggle with it. I certainly did lmfao 80 minutes and 3 deaths down the drain. Whichever trial is easiest to you, do it. Jaeger just makes it a tad longer to finish.

After every death [you WILL die sometimes trying to understand how she works, don't stress about it], it takes a short amount of time before she spawns. Take advantage of that and finish an objective if you need to.

In every trial, she also takes a while to spawn; you kinda have to get to the main objective before you hear the sound indicator [the deep, scary alarm that plays after you hear the standard "ex-pop incoming" from the elevators. I forget what they're called, sigh]. Depends on the trial you take, but the game gives you a second to collect items and get yourself sorted before dealing with her.

Basically, TL:DR for every trial; don't stop moving, don't get caught in dead ends, don't go into narrow hallways or rooms, and don't be afraid to die a few times. Have fun. [And she doesn't like hugs :( I've tried.]

[retrowitchy]

sotr screenplay

so a friend and i decided we're going to try and adapt sotr into a screenplay draft, just sort of as an exercise in book to film adaptations to better understand how that process works (i'm a screenwriting major) and also for fun so we can compare our version to the actual movie in 2026 and because we're insane and autistic and can't be chill about anything.

we just finished mapping out a beat sheet of all the main points in the book and are now working on reworking them into a modified beat sheet for the movie!

main question ------ > does anybody have any thoughts on what they feel like is especially important to include in the film? It could be thematic, lines of dialogue, characters, scenes, really anything- just trying to get a general sort of overview of people's thoughts on the adaptation and what we're all a little worried they might cut out.

feel free to reply or dm me or whatever! 💚

[noveloctoling]

BIG RUN SURVIVAL GUIDE (BY YOUR LOCAL SALMONID RIGHTS ACTIVIST!!)

You thought Big Run's were gone? Well, guess what!! It's back, and lucky for many, it's only impacting Wahoo World and places around it!! However, this doesn't mean everybody is off the hook. Even with this smaller scale attack compared to ones like the Big Big Run or Grand Run, there are still things you should do to protect your life. Remember: The most important thing is protecting your life, not protecting the name of a big corporation and the propaganda they spread!! I'll write a essay on Big Run later.

Without further ado, here we go!!

1. REMAIN CALM

Panicking over the red sky, heavy air, and stink aren't going to help anybody. Panicking will only lead to other people panicking, and because of panic, will lead to a multitude of bad things. This includes hires at Grizzco!! (will expand on Grizzco later)

Stay calm and proceed with other safety precautions

2. STAY INSIDE

Now is NOT the time to play Turf War. Especially when it comes to maps in rotation that are near the Big Run site. Invading Salmonids are bound to get lost in the sewers and end up in places their not supposed to be, and unfortunately for them, probably don't know how to keep calm in this situation, leading to issues not only for them, but for those around them.

While stray Salmonid warriors are quite rare, it's best to play it safe and stay inside.

3. LOCK WINDOWS AND DOORS

IT IS BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY!! While still on the topic before, stray Salmonids are rare, but can still happen. It is better for you if you stay inside and make sure to lock your doors so no unwanted intruders get in. This is especially important for if you live closer to the Big Run site!

I would also recommend closing your toilet and checking your sink, or any place that connects to the sewer system. Smallfries are notorious for getting lost, and are likely to get in through your toilet or sink if they try hard enough.

4. HAVE A WEAPON CLOSE BY TO DEFEND YOURSELF JUST IN CASE

In the circumstances a Salmonid DOES somehow get in, treat them like any other intruder. Kick them out, use a weapon if necessary. This can range from a big stick to an E-Liter. In an emergency where you find yourself facing off against multiple intruders, make sure you have places to reset and fight back the intruders. If it gets too overwhelming, don't risk it and retreat to higher ground or another room, locking the door.

DO NOT ATTACK ANY STRAY SALMONIDS UNLESS THEY ATTACK YOU!! Some might be armed, some might not be armed. If they don't attack you, don't attack them. Some might be living in town with you! You wouldn't attack a neighbor because of their species, right?

5. DO NOT HELP OUT AT GRIZZCO IF YOU AREN'T WORKING THERE ALREADY

From what I heard, no, you're not gonna get paid well for getting hired during a Big Run. There is so much going on in the building that many new hires are pushed aside, barely paid anything for helping out. But the main reason you shouldn't get hired during a Big Run is because IT IS TOO DANGEROUS!! REMEMBER!! YOUR HIGHEST PRIORITY IS STAYING SAFE!! Putting yourself into danger will have consequences. I've met MANY who got too reckless.

REMEMBER!! BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY!!

AS FOR EMPLOYEES ON THE CLOCK...

DON'T PUSH YOURSELVES. DO NOT FALL FOR THE TRICKS JUST TO GET MORE EGGS. YOUR HERE TO DEFEND YOUR TERRITORY, NOT EXPLOIT.

PROTECT PEOPLE, THAT IS YOUR JOB. YOU ARE NOT HERE TO STEAL EGGS. YOU ARE NOT HERE TO EXPLOIT THE SALMONIDS!! YOU ARE TREATING THEM LIKE THEY TREAT YOU OUT OF BIG RUN!! YOU ARE PROTECTING US FROM INTRUDERS.

MAKE SENSE???

Stay safe out there guys!! Remember that we caused this :3

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

DBDA Headcanons: Edwin's Notebook

Edwin's notebook is an eternal thing.

He had it on the mortal plane when he was alive, but when he brought it to Hell - an eternal place - it too became endless. I think this is supported because he is able to keep case notes in it now for the entire series as well as having his Hell maps at the front from 35+ years ago as he tried to escape.

But this, to him, is not the main value of his notebook and both the maps and case notes inside it. He is extremely attached to it because it's a) something left from his actual life, and b) that has been with him through every stage of his life.

(AKA, it literally went to Hell and back with him, so he feels emotionally bonded to it.)

It also has been with him through the Dead Boy Detective Agency and contains case notes from his best memories with Charles over the past 35 years, and this reminds him that his work is important and his friendship with Charles will always be a comfort.

Finally, he is just very attached to it because it was his salvation when he was in Hell, something that he was doing for himself. Some evidence that he had hope and he could have a future outside of it, and the notebook is a symbol of all of that.

(And, sue him, he's proud. Escaping was a challenge, and it was a massive accomplishment that he achieved with logic and mapping and experimentation and diligent note-taking records. He's smart.)

But in addition to sentimental value, Edwin keeps this notebook for a practical purpose:

It has all of his Hell notes in it, and we know how (rightfully) terrified he is of going back. He thinks that if he has to go back to Hell, having the maps in it - or the memory of the maps in it, at least, so he studies them - will aid him in escaping again.

Because of his attachment to it, Edwin doesn't let anybody besides Charles touch his notebook, and it even took like 10 years for him to let Charles touch it and flip through it. It took 20 for him to let Charles write anything in it.

He also lets Niko quickly press a Keroppi sticker onto the corner of its back cover. It's the only way he has ever allowed the notebook to be altered, but Niko irrevocably altered his life, and he's glad that the sticker on the notebook is hers.

[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Academia: Otheon Headcanons

So I'm having fun speculating on the culture, history, and geography of Otheon and Klayd. Because it was 2am when I started writing this and I had nothing better to do, so here's an analysis no one asked for.

Otheon and Klayd are two nations that share an island located between Ireland and the Iberian Peninsula of Europe. The island is slightly bigger than Ireland and based on its location...well, anybody who's looked at a map knows there's no land mass that big there. Everything else in the series indicates My Hero is our world if people spontaneously started getting superpowers set in the near future of early to mid-2100s.

The simplest explanation available is we're just looking at an alternate universe where there is a large island in the Celtic Sea.

Or!

New islands are created naturally a variety of ways.

Volcanic activity

Glacial retreat

Growth from ocean sandbars

Sediment from river deltas

But these processes take longer than a hundred years, and sometimes new islands aren't even permanent. Hawaii was formed via volcanic activity over the course of millions of years. Ireland (formed by tectonic plate movement) is also four times the size of Hawaii, so it's highly unlikely the larger Otheon/Klayd island formed and grew to its size naturally.

...

My headcanon is in the early days of Quirks, a bunch of guys with lava-Quirks and other geology-related powers got high and created it for no reason other than just to see if they could do it. Because humans are really determined to do pointless shit sometimes.

"Yo, what if we just created a fuckin' island, bro! Let's gooo!"

Alternatively, a villain with a similar Quirk could have created the island for the purposes of having a really conspicuous lair.

"How did you discover my secret lair?"

"It's the size of Ireland, dumbass!"

Assuming the Otheon/Klayd island is manmade (and created by one or more persons acting independently of any existing nation), it's location makes things interesting.

Here's Otheon/Klayd's location.

And here's an approximate map of the maritime waters of western Europe. (Approximate because I pulled this off of Google images and have no idea how accurate it is.) As you can see, Otheon/Klayd could be just far enough away from everyone else or just enough in everyone's space that there can be no obvious claim.

Because you know Spain, Portugal, the UK, Ireland, and France all probably did what nations do best: Took one look and the new spit of land and said, "Hey. That's ours."

If we do an overlay of the map, and allow some liberty under the assumption the animation team did not draw the European map 100% perfectly accurate or the boundary was changed by My Hero's 22nd Century, Otheon and Klayd's shared border could be an extension of the Irish/UK maritime border.

Since we know the Trigger bomb was in Rody's home city, we can tell the larger northwestern country is Klayd and the smaller southeast one is Otheon. Taking into account the maritime border, it'd be interesting if Klayd was or still is an Irish territory.

So who claimed Otheon?

Otheon's main city seems to be based on Lisbon, so I guess Portugal won that debate on who got Otheon? And built an identical bridge? I don't know. Admittedly the bridge is not concrete evidence, but based on the architecture, there is definitely a Spanish/Portuguese/general Mediterranean influence. And French. So one of those nations could claimed Otheon based on proximity.

But Otheon and Klayd appear to be independent nations, not part of anyone else. So now I'm imagining some country colonized an uninhabited new island only for those colonists to say, "Nope," and declared independence in under a hundred years.

But setting everything I've written above aside because it all is just wild speculation, the headcanon that I like the most regarding Otheon is the island was created by some hero or group of heroes during the early days of Quirks and it started off as a refuge/ceasefire zone for civilians hoping to escape the chaos of the new reality. Especially since Quirkless people were more common in those days, seeking shelter in a world where people are starting to have powers that can range from a minor inconvenience to god-like destruction would have been a dire need. As a result, the Quirkless population of Otheon and Klayd is much higher compared to other nations.

After society got itself re-stabilized, the island was officially established as a new territory with its two independent nations.

Also, Deku and Rody are probably speaking English with each other, but headcanon that Rody is bilingual or trilingual and was consistently muttering irritably in Portuguese or something whenever Deku did something to annoy him.

[finnlongman]

For this totally normal Friday could you possibly share some fun (or not so fun, whatever you want) figures in Irish Mythology/History whose experiences align/mimic those of modern day asexuals and aromantics? :D

This one is tricky, but possibly not for the reasons you might expect! For those who aren't aware, my PhD research focuses on friendship in the Ulster Cycle (particularly the later Ulster Cycle, so kind of post-12th century). This means I spend a lot of time thinking about how relationships are constructed in these texts and how people express affection, and the main thing I've noticed is that there's just... very little romance. It hardly ever comes up.

It's especially noticeable when you compare this material to chivalric romances being written at the same time -- your Arthurian tales for example -- where courtly love-service and other motifs are more prominent. The Irish simply don't go in for that. Even when people are married it's hardly mentioned, and even when they're having affairs and the text is focused on that, they don't emphasise the role of Feelings™ particularly. There are exceptions to this, but fewer of them than you might think; even the famously romantic stories tend to be... less romantic once you look closer at them.

I'm not entirely sure why, though I have a few theories (among them the effects of continued monastic/clerical authorship in periods when secular courtly authorship was more common in some other languages). You do get love poetry (non-narrative) in Irish in this period, just not much in the way of romantic prose (narrative), especially not when it comes to the Ulster Cycle. (And when people do get an attack of the feelings in the prose tales, they usually express those feelings in poetry. Prose is perhaps the wrong medium for falling in love. Most of the chivalric tales are in verse throughout, of course, so they don't have this problem. But Irish really goes in for prose as the medium for storytelling from a very early period, and even when they're translating tales from verse in other languages, often render them as prose.)

So, in many ways, it's hard to perceive characters who seem to have noticeably less interest in romance and/or sex than other characters, because desire is so rarely foregrounded in a recognisable manner. I'd say there's a bit more emphasis on sex, but very little on what we might call "romantic love". There's a lot to be said about how relationships and feelings are classified across this period that doesn't map onto our modern divisions, but even when comparing the literature with that being written at the same time and sometimes very nearby, it seems to be doing something slightly different. Maybe that's why I enjoy this material so much! 😂

Having said all that, Láeg is quite married to Cú Chulainn in a lot of ways, but other than that, I don't think he is ever hinted at having any kind of romantic or sexual entanglements with anybody at any point -- no casual flirting, no ill-timed affairs, no distractions. It could easily be used as a plot point to separate him from Cú Chulainn at a crucial moment but it simply never comes up. While this is quite likely just to be a class thing (we couldn't possibly acknowledge servants as having an inner life of their own), the way he judges Cú Chulainn for running off at the start of the Táin because he has a date very much gives Aroace Best Friend Is Judging Your Life Choices. Although possibly I'm projecting there 😅

Looking outside of Irish material, I have always read 'Guigemar' by Marie de France as resonating with demi experiences in particular. He is into one (1) person and one (1) person only, no matter how hard others try to make him behave in a more socially normative way. Bill Burgwinkle has some insightful remarks about queer approaches to this story in Sodomy, Masculinity and Law, but doesn't explore aro-/acespec readings; I think they would be very productive. When I wrote an essay on queer readings of Marie de France as an undergrad, that was one of the things I focused on.

[pokeask-magi-retreat]

Welcome!

Hello again, welcome to year 3!! This post will serve as information for the event including start times, basic information, and the likes.

Basis:

This is essentially a community version of the Magi Event that has taken place on @asktheisle for the last few years. In prior years on the main blog, the Magi come and visit for the month and bestow gifts on guests. Same essence, except now there's a designated space for the community to gather during that time-this blog right here!

Dates:

The event is set to run from January 1st to January 31st. The Magi themselves will arrive on January 6th to coincide with the holiday the event is based off of (Three Kings Day) and will remain present until the end of the event. There's no set schedule for arriving or leaving, so feel free to participate as much or as little as you would like! I've always intended for this to be a casual event that fosters some interaction.

Things to Do:

While this is a casual event and participants are free to do as they please, there ARE some things that can be done during the course of the month if you feel inclined! More information will be presented when the specific times are reached and include:

Receiving a gift from the Magi

Special character interactions

A small event prompt at the beach

In regards to interaction ideas, things that can be done but aren't limited to include:

Interacting with the Magi and/or hosts

Taking a swim at the beach

Asking about and trying out all the different food available

Grabbing a drink (alcoholic and not) at the makeshift bar for the event

A designated area for games including pool/billiards and dominoes, even bring your own games!

A dance floor with handheld instruments to sing and play along with

Bonfires and hammocks scattered around the shore to relax in

Extra Notes:

Anybody in the pokeask community is welcome to participate! Written blogs, those who have been on hiatus, new and upcoming blogs-all are welcome. The only ones barred from participation are those who have been causing problems within the community (which I hope has been no one recently). Standard DNI criteria applies as well (no lgbt-phobes, TERFS, MAPS, racists, etc)

I would hope for no problems, but if there are any concerns as the event goes on you are ALWAYS free to message me and I will do what I can to take care of it. Anyone found acting out of line will be barred from the event.

In regards to event posts: The tag for participants to use as well as the one I'll use for posting on here is pokeaskmagiretreat25. You will know I've seen your post and have it queued if it's liked by my main blog (Kuixotic). This will also be the blog you see when receiving submissions or asks if you have anons off.

Another post will feature an opportunity to receive an invitation for the event. An invite is not necessary to participate! I just know some community members in the past have taken a liking to having something to transition with between plot and events.

Another post will also feature the map and free-to-use backgrounds for the event.

If you have any questions/concerns you're free to send me an ask or a DM! Once the event gets going you can reach out to me for any clarification on things.

Hope to see you there!

[batsplat]

since you made a few posts about motogp and tennis I have to ask: how would valentino’s and sete’s rivalry look like in your mind than mapped onto 00’s atp tour? and also THE CURSE!!!!! (this is an au where tennis has more whimsy obviously) what would it look like in tennis realities?

got this ask and immediately dropped everything to have a think about it. let's do this

I think valentino's earlier rivalries are trickier to conceptualise in tennis terms than inter-alien rivalries, because the vibes of valentino's early rivalries kinda depend on said rivals not actually beating him to championships, aka the biggest prize in the sport. the biggest prize in tennis is slams and like... it just isn't feasible for anybody to have a chokehold on all the slams for five years. quite frankly I don't even like tennis au's that start throwing around calendar slams unless they're extremely careful about it. in the entire open era, exactly 1 (one) person managed a calendar slam - steffi graf as a teenager over three decades ago. while it is theoretically achievable in the modern game - djokovic got within one match of it until the pressure got to him he ran into an opponent who played at an incredible, divine, beyond phenomenal level to beat him in the us open final - it is very unlikely to happen for various reasons and certainly not by a young male player. this is a long way of saying that valentino is simply not winning twenty consecutive slams from 2001-05. noughties federer gives us a sense of the upper limit of what kind of sustained dominance is possible... generally I think giving valentino a prolonged run at 2-3 slams per year is the way to go here

^noughties federer, which to me represents a pretty hard upper limit for how many slams I'm willing to give someone in such a concentrated time period

the rule in tennis is that if you want to effectively lock out The Field from slams, you need at least 2-3 consistently dominant players. one player cannot effectively lock out the whole field from slams. it's the pack hunter phenomenon - the big three/four's hold on the slams was so enduring and so crushing because whenever one of them was injured or not feeling it or whatever, somebody else was there to pick up the slack. to some extent this is comparable to motogp's alien era, though obviously big three dominance lasted a fair bit longer. neither valentino nor later marc alone could lock out the rest of the field from the occasional race win - but from 2007-15... four non-aliens I believe (vermeulen le mans 2007, capirossi motegi 2007, dovi donington 2009, spies assen 2011, not double checking this because I want to Believe I know this off the top of my head) won races. all the other races were won by one of five guys. obviously in motogp there's also a technology factor, better bikes factory vs independent tyre change + electronics leading to ten race winners in 2016 bla bla bla, but you get the point. all of this means that this version of sete, even if he's the main challenger for valentino in *only two years*... has to win slams. you can come up with a lame workaround for this - for instance, say that all the continental europeans simply suck at grass and you get a 'sampras can't play on clay' nineties type scenario where the fictional bruguera-type equivalent keeps winning wimbledon titles - but idk,, this feels way too convoluted and kind of narratively unsatisfying. so let us just take it as a given that sete is... a late bloomer but one who does end up with an objectively very respectable career. which obviously inevitably changes the vibe of this rivalry at least somewhat

it is at this point that you do come crashing into another major hurdle: the manufacturer switch. this is obviously a really key bit of the vale/sete story and it is basically impossible to translate to tennis. it's not an equipment change, it's not a coaching change (in any case, I'm committed to jb coaching valentino throughout his dominant era), you can't come up with some hackneyed idea of a tennis academy substituting the manufacturer environment or whatever. tbh I do like how... specific this rivalry is to motogp, like it's one that feels very close to the spirit of the sport... in some ways the valentino rivalry that's the trickiest to translate. on the other end of the spectrum is the casey rivalry which reads as a very tennis-coded situation to me, both practically and thematically. the sete rivalry gets a lot of its charm and appeal from stuff that simply would not work as well outside of motogp

(another important element of the rivalry that for obvious reasons can't be translated is everything to do with safety. sete's rise to prominence happened in the direct aftermath of the tragic death of his teammate, both sete and valentino were central among the riders in pushing through safety-related changes after that, safety concerns play an odd uncertain role in shaping the drama that took place at qatar 2004, sete's lasting objections to valentino's actions at jerez 2005 surround what kind of precedent was set in terms of safe riding. the sete/valentino rivalry thematically asks questions of what people owe to each other, the ethical guidelines of competition, the responsibilities of existing within a competitive community. key questions that remain about qatar 2004 is whether sete was involved in any way in reporting valentino due to a *genuine* earnest interest only in ensuring safety and wanting all riders to take that same step, what the competitive calculus was there, whether he was being naive in that situation, and whether valentino was justified in his cynicism about sete's motivations. there is no equivalent in tennis and it's a case where it's best not to try and shoehorn one in)

so failing a practical equivalent, what you really want is to find something thematically similar. this also really isn't easy. the manufacturer switch on a plot level functions as something valentino does to *intentionally* make his own life harder to prove a point and go his own path. it is an act of individual expression along a path of self-actualisation, for both good and ill. for tennis players this is just... I mean it's too egocentric a sport to have to push back against constraints on your individual identity, right. conformity is enforced more through tennis' stringent norms and underlying conservatism, rather than a literal contract that forms the basis of an athlete's participation in the sport. sure, the general vibe of 2003 where valentino was struggling with feeling like he was just expected to win all the time - where any mild dip in form felt disproportionately challenged and winning had become too routine - does also work in tennis but like... what do you do about that? a coaching switch away from a big name coach is probably the closest equivalent, or turning your back on a bollettieri-type structure. but it just doesn't quite work!! the other controversial thing you can do is scheduling, but given he'll be playing all the masters and slams anyway... idk, turning him into a vulture for a year simply does not have the same vibe. unless you handle it very carefully

so. here is what I think you need to do: you need to give him a target. pick one of the four slams and say that he hasn't won it for a few years (or at all), and then have him organise his season around winning that slam. it's got to be either wimbledon or the us open... I've already earmarked roland garros as his slam because I simply think he has the vibes of a clay grinder... and also this gives him so many southern european courts to terrorise his opponents on. which ig in a mugello-equivalent might give him quite a substantial streak at the place. (though might also be worth giving that streak to rome, as a masters and Serious Business that is also valentino's biggest home event.) for obvious reasons, you cannot organise your season around winning a slam that takes place in january, so australia is out. the case for wimbledon is that in some quarters it's still seen as THE prestigious slam. given that it's quite different from clay, it's easy enough to imagine that being his weakest slam (though it really doesn't have to be, cf borg for the most obvious example), it's notoriously tricky to win the channel slam (rg/wim) given how close they are. the argument against it is... idk, how DO you organise your season around winning wimbledon?? take a vacation during rg? yeah, no. it's gonna have to be new york

the us open is the last slam of the year. it doesn't HAVE to be the most open slam - it was for a while on the men's side, but for instance right now the women's slam that's most open is wimbledon and for the nineties men it was rg - but it does lend itself to that status. players are tired + it's a volatile place that lends itself to upsets. tbh you can even say that valentino's never won it. career slams are tough!! you can be a superb dominant player and struggle with the career slam, again cf federer. sampras never did it. my girl henin also couldn't quite manage it. at this point I think we need to add another plot mechanism into the game: year end rankings. this doesn't quite work as a championship equivalent, since you'd basically always choose a slam over year end number one. but it DOES matter to players, especially if it's either your first one or you're approaching a record. sampras made himself sick with worry when he was closing in on his sixth consecutive year (in retrospect extra worth it since it's a rare record that survived the big three era). and if you don't get it one year... you do have to start the streak again. so valentino is chasing doohan's streak and it's a big thing in the media, maybe because doohan's made a dismissive remark about it or whatever, and valentino is being asked a lot about it. valentino wants to be The number one at the end of every year

one more relevant element of the tennis calendar: surfaces are a big big deal in tennis, slightly less so as time goes by and the surfaces have been homogeneised but they still matter for every single player. both in terms of playstyle they suit and how they make you organise your schedule. an odd quirk of the tennis calendar is that right after wimbledon (grass) you get a bunch of small clay tournaments in europe before you head to north america for the hard court swing that leads up to the us open. now, I personally think this is excellent and whimsical and a lot of fun to watch right after wimbledon at a time of year that just FEELS like it should have clay court tennis, but less enlightened souls than myself see this bit of the year as 'pointless' and 'dumb' and 'nonsensical'. the powers that be are currently trying their best to kill that calendar stretch because the sport hates me personally. it's also not got the best reputation,, like some of my fellow fans do kinda look down on top players who go to those tournaments... at times they are decried as vultures... that being said, some players have a compelling reason to go and play there. swiatek obviously wanted to win her home tournament in warsaw and was bitterly disappointed when she didn't manage to do so in an otherwise dominant 2022, though it's now a bit of a moot point since it's switched to hard court anyway. and thiem infamously had a habit of rocking up at kitzbühel to try and win his home tournament, which might not have been the smartest scheduling choice right ahead of canada, cincy and then uso. notably he won his one slam at the 2020 us open, where tennis had been officially paused until august (albeit with many ill-advised exhibition tournaments, which thiem played A LOT of to prepare for his big run) for pandemic reasons. playing those tournaments can come with a tax for the american hard court swing

and now I think we have just about enough plot mechanisms in place to actually figure out how to make this work. so, here we go. valentino and sete have known each other for years. valentino trained with sete as a teenager at at kenny roberts' academy, back when valentino was an upstart brat who thought he can get away with slicing half his groundstrokes. a little bit further down the road, valentino is starting his first proper pro season and gets some friendly advice from sete about tour life which he completely ignores. let's say it's over-scheduling, a classic sin of the young player. valentino has a tough season or two where he's constantly getting injured as he adjusts to tour life.... he was a very promising junior (dealer's choice whether he won junior slams or not, which are more f2 than 250cc in terms of prestige and... probably even less so, they're also NOT predictive whatsoever of future success, especially on the men's side) but he really does need some time to adapt to the men's game. he's one of those young players who is just cramping ALL the time, something charmingly pathetic about some of his early bo5 efforts. valentino wins his first slam in australia and then he's off. hemmed and hawed about how many slams to give him that year and I've ended up settling on ao/wimbledon for a respectable two, his mugello 2001 equivalent disaster takes place on his strongest surface at rg. for now let's say we have a relatively similar timeline to irl so he has another very dominant season and wins... idk, sure, let's give him three slams. I kinda think denying someone uso is a bit tricky because by that point the discourse gets very calendar slam centric and I also think valentino would suit new york well!! but he's just kinda exhausted, one of those years he ends up withdrawing due to injury. both those years he secures year end number one with ease

during this time his main rivals are kr jr, though he tails off sharply, biaggi, capirossi, barros and ukawa. valentino by this point has a firmly established reputation for long, meandering dramatic matches that he manages to just about win. he's not exactly the most efficient in slam draws (or indeed regular draws) - it's very crowd-pleasing tennis, he's the best out there, but it does come with its drawbacks. his serve is underpowered and his forehand is a reliable rally shot more than it is a great finishing shot. he tends to think his way through matches, often starting slowly as he figures the opponent out, has a lot of wins coming from behind. his biggest strengths are the sheer range of weapons in his arsenal - as well as his brain. it's a nightmare to put him away, which is a great way to torture opponents... how to win matches you have no right to win. while he doesn't win every slam in that period, he DOES have an excellent record in slam finals specifically... hey, you know what, let's give him a perfect record - not too unrealistic, if you look at some of the young big stars currently in the men's and women's game. so when he loses it's earlier in the draw, like fourth round territory ig. but that lack in efficiency in making his way through draws is also something that's pointed out to him relating specifically to his struggles at the us open, at which point of the season the gas tank has a bad tendency to be empty. maybe he even gets fitness-related criticisms, like he isn't training the right way, despite his clear ability to win very long matches repeatedly. it's beginning to grate on him. he's ALSO constantly getting shit for playing the clay summer despite how poor scheduling this is. now, irl this swing happens more in northern bits of europe but... I think we can just about justify a minor alteration here. Let Us Say there's a tournament close to valentino's home that he loves dearly and wants to go to every year. so first you have a 250 in bologna and then a 500 in... idk somewhere else in italy, naples let's say

then, he has a season that's just kind of... frustrating. he wins the australian open quite comfortably, idc what he does at the sunshine dubs, wins rome and hamburg... he has an unexpectedly rough time securing his roland garros title, like we're talking three five set matches and just sort of a nightmare of a grind all the way. one of his matches is against sete, who has had a major change-up in coaching and... fuck it, type of racquet used for something a bit more up to date. this doesn't massively make a difference in modern tennis (actually a bad time to write this given it DID make a different for the ao women's champion) but it's the noughties, it's just about justifiable. sete's new coach is actually someone he (amicably) poached from valentino's team, juan martinez, and they've worked a lot on sete's game. they've buffed up the serve and tightened up his game in general. sete has a quite classic, kind of old-fashioned playstyle. he's got a very flat forehand, super pronounced eastern grip, a one-handed backhand, a lovely slice and good hands at the net. he was a bit of a holdout in the shift of the game away from serve and volley (bit later in the timeline than henman) but he switched away from ONLY using that turn of the century-ish. though it's still a proper weapon in the arsenal - and the thing is you need a very good serve for that to be effective, not just hand skills at the net. sete becomes better at powering through his service games while using a lot of chipped returns to elongate receiving games

now this isn't the type of game that necessarily MASSIVELY suits clay, though if you're able to slice and slide there's a path to competitiveness there. he's spanish, he can slide. and big serve plus forehand won't really hurt you on any surface. let's say they meet in... idk, the fourth round or the quarters, sete isn't seeded massively high even though his results this year have picked up. he's never beaten valentino before - and he doesn't here either, but he makes things REALLY hard for valentino. especially in the first couple sets, valentino's really struggling to get a read on the serve, one of those slightly sneaky ones where the ball toss misleads you about where it's going. (generally if you've got a good eye competing against someone with a reliable ball toss, you can read type of serve from ball toss - slightly to the right for a righty means it's a slice serve and slightly to the left further back means topspin. tennis players have sharp eyes: infamously, agassi always knew where becker was going to serve because becker had a tell depending where his tongue poked out of his mouth. agassi had to occasionally pretend to guess wrong to avoid making it too obvious and only told becker about it years after retirement, who had always been confused about how agassi always seemed to guess right.) valentino's a bit off his game, kinda stressed about being expected to deliver the... idk, first title defence at roland garros? let's keep the timeline vague, he's certainly defending the title. and another super frustrating thing sete does is deploy....................... oh god am I really doing this... okay fuck it, if you're still reading this post then that's really on YOU. so. let's go there

and another super frustrating thing sete does is how he deploys a smart return strategy. now, we've established that valentino's weakness tends to be the bread and butter elements of the game, the offensive clinical stuff on serve and forehand. ideally you would want to exploit those things, and if you are a smart player who isn't just awed into submission by valentino's seemingly endless capacity for problem-solving, there are a few things you could try. first off, if you are a one-handed player who has perhaps had to develop a very good slice backhand ANYWAY to compensate for any weaknesses (particularly defensive) on that wing - and also have that extra bit of power in your dominant arm from not using your non-dominant arm for the backhand - you may also have a very good chipped return. (even for good 1hbh's, returns can be an issue.) (oh also chipped returns - also called blocks - are basically like... you mostly just use the momentum of the opponent's shot to literally block the ball, but the general trajectory of the racquet is from high to low, so like with the slice. puts a different spin on the ball, keeps it low.) so if you were to do a lot of that and keep feeding it into valentino's forehand (given that he's a lefty, this is actually quite nice to do with a backhand return - particularly since his favourite serve is an ad kicker out wide which generally would have a high success rate against 1hbh's) then you are giving him a low ball without a lot of speed. not necessarily the kind of shot your typical counterpuncher wants to be redirecting, which means you keep having rallies on valentino's serve that continually get reset to neutral. valentino unwilling to generate power himself and continually ending up in a normal rally. another supplementary tactic is to actually like... massively step back on the second serve, way more common these days but back then a bit more of a radical approach, and give yourself time on the ball - makes it more likely you can move around your backhand and hit the ball with a forehand instead. and if it's not the best second serve in the world, you sure can take a whack at it

now eventually, valentino does figure this one out. loses the first after a fast start from sete, grabs the second on a tiebreak that FEELS like it should be the turning point, loses the third anyway quite comfortably. at this point valentino goes full lockdown mode and just makes it a complete grind, just utterly disgusting tennis. he will hit high topspin forehands into sete's backhand a million times if he has to. it's not even necessarily winning through brains as much as it is sheer perseverance, until eventually sete's legs fail him and the tennis wavers just enough for valentino to eek out a win. they're very warm at the net, it's one of those 'valiant underdog' efforts at slams where everyone thinks the winner was certain all the time anyway but applauds the underdog (though valentino secretly wasn't so confident throughout the match). valentino and sete are friends by this point, close by the standard of tennis players - they like to train together in italy and have of course spent a few summers together in ibiza... ah I realise I have sacrificed valentino's ability to have meaningful summer holidays to the clay gods. idk they spend the off-season together, whatever. valentino is very complimentary of sete's progress, it's all warm and lovely. he already had one of those kinda silly 'you really shouldn't be in a match this long' situations in the second round.... but after this sete match it feels like he should probably have found his feet, clear through the rest of the draw quite easily. in the end, it's actually more exhausting than that - valentino drops a set to *spins wheel* checa in the semis in pretty unnecessary fashion, and then he ends up in a gruelling five set final against capirossi. a match valentino was in firm control of and then repeatedly in less firm control of. it's just kind of loose and dumb and a bit stupid, fine because he eventually won but probably didn't need to be that close

scholars will note that I've actually given valentino a nicer start to the sete rivalry than he got in real life, seeing as he did actually secure a victory in their first Super Meaningful Duel. as recompense, I'm about to make the rest of his season substantially worse than his actual 2003. I think you can make a version that's more 2003-y by having sete beat valentino in australia and go from there, but I've committed to having valentino lose us open a few times to inject extra stakes into that tournament so... we are giving the early rivalry quite a different vibe here. whatever. now, crucially, valentino doesn't play any warm up events before wimbledon to recover from rg, which didn't cost him last year but DOES this time and he crashes out in the first week. it's his first loss before the third round since he was like twenty one and it's against an opponent he shouldn't be losing to, some scrub idc. sete, remarkably, goes on to win the title, which even after his positive roland garros run comes as a bit of a shock to everyone. it's a big deal, valentino when later asked about it is of course super complimentary, as we've established it's all lovely. valentino goes off to play his home 250 and gets another round of judgement from the journalists, who are already unimpressed by his early wimbledon exit. he rocks up to canada and makes the final... only to lose to sete. valentino struggles extra hard with sete's game on the quick surface and sete steals the match from him in a deciding set tiebreak. this is NOT the sort of match valentino normally loses, ESPECIALLY in a final, he just has this cockroach-like tendency of surviving even the trickiest situations... and sete managed to stand up to him when it mattered most. valentino is once again extremely complimentary of sete, it was a great fight, he had a lot of fun (and he's being earnest, he DOES love the challenge and the battle, these are the matches that make him feel alive)

then he has a bit of a weird cincy where weather-related scheduling issues means he has to play his quarterfinal and semi on the same day, and he ends up losing to biaggi who wins the tournament. by valentino's standards, this is actually a bit of a big title drought - three whole big tournaments without winning one. (obviously this is silly, but so was the three race thing.) journalists think he really needs to stamp his authority again on the tour at the us open, locker room aura etc etc where he doesn't look too beatable. he actually has a reasonably decent campaign and is looking like the clear favourite for the title, until he runs into sete who is somehow in the second week of a slam AGAIN. now, valentino has to lose this match in a slightly stupid fashion. admittedly when I picture losing matches in stupid fashion, my mind typically goes for the REALLY stupid examples like medvedev/tsitsipas rg '21 or foki/rune wim '23... iykyk. but I don't think valentino goes temporarily insane and does an underarm serve and volley. I think he just... fourth set tiebreak coming back from a two set to love deficit, it feels like he's the firm favourite again, if he wins this tiebreak he surely surely goes on to win the match. five all and he plays a really good point to put him in an attacking position, and he tries to be TOO smart and plays the mid court ball in sete's direction, hoping sete would have already started running to the other side of the court - instead, sete has called his bluff, stuck in place and passes him. sets up matchpoint and sete hits an ace. painful, humiliating, dumb way to lose the semi of a slam. never in his career does valentino do such a bad job of hiding how much it stings as here. all the way to the net and in press.... it radiates off him. he's not rude to sete but he does clearly want to die. sete wins the title, which somehow means he's come essentially out of nowhere to win two consecutive slams, and a masters title to boot

the press... oh the press lay into valentino. it's a stupid way to lose a slam and it's the latest defeat in a slam he's never won. is valentino really as smart as he thinks he is question mark. and he really shouldn't be losing to SETE, who never should have been the challenger to the throne but now suddenly looks like he might be the best player in the world. AND serious questions are being asked of valentino's scheduling choices. it's humiliating, it's frustrating, it's a Bit Too Much and sete quite publicly defends valentino but it still stings. valentino takes as much of a break as the scheduling allows post-uso (what's the weather like in ibiza during this time of year huh) and spends it with sete ofc. he dyes his hair and gets grumpy about how everyone wants him to win all the time and doesn't really even seem to care when he does. they criticise how he plays - too undisciplined, too much faff, too many dropshots - and it feels stifling. the year end number one isn't in serious danger this year because of all the non slam points valentino amassed, but it's still not a great feeling. now, in that era the next masters was actually madrid, which might not be a slam but given that it's sete's home tournament does provide an opportunity to give a sort of brno-type bit of payback. they meet in the final again, big hype by this point, and valentino snatches an extremely dramatic victory from the jaws of defeat. lots of long rallies in that deciding set - valentino increasingly managing to exploit how his excellent backhand can stand up to sete's forehand and he can eventually pull the trigger and redirect down the line. valentino still getting criticised for the excessive flourishes to his game, but nobody can argue with how good of a victory it is. they hug very warmly at the net, their speeches to each other are very lovely, crowd supported both of them since spanish vs endless valentino popularity... all lovely vibes. valentino signs off the season flawlessly by winning the paris masters and the atp finals (yeah look he can play on indoor hard too, he's flexible enough to be a bit more aggressive + volley-focused)

now. valentino goes into the off-season with a Plan. he radically rejigs his serving technique with his coach jb, a bunch of technical changes that are tough to spot like... idk man, more vertically explosive, changes the angle at which he draws his racquet back... but also an extremely obvious switch from pinpoint to platform. (goes from drawing his legs together mid-motion to keeping them apart.) fucking about with your technique is normal - this, however, is substantial fucking about to be doing when you are winning 2-3 slams every year. it is the kind of thing that can massively backfire if you've fucked the technique, serves are sensitive, and valentino is clear that he will need some adjustment period. he also does two things that are pretty controversial: make clear he's intending to complete the career slam that year by winning us open AND sign up for his stupid summer clay tournament. he actually DOUBLES DOWN on this choice, going for both bologna and naples rather than just bologna, which is even dumber and more insane scheduling. as a sort of fuck you to everyone who's been telling him he's an idiot

valentino then promptly wins the australian open. he's in a different league from everyone else until the final, including... actually nvm, biaggi takes sete out in the semis since I kinda feel like sete surely has to be seeded number two by now. the final is great, a lot of drama, very tight five setter. valentino doesn't exactly win on the strength of his serve and he's actually kinda struggling with his... *throws dart blindfolded* let's say his lower back by the end of it, to the point where (to nick a plot point from 1989 roland garros R4 chang vs lendl) he ends up serving underarm to catch biaggi off guard at a crucial point. it is an ORDEAL, valentino clearly not at his best. this whole serve thing looks like it might not have been his smartest play. but in all other areas of his game, valentino has kind of doubled down on his specific style - with all the trick shots and junk and awful spins. he wins, it's probably his best major final to date. big relief

that being said, that lower back isn't doing great. valentino has to sit out february, then the sunshine dubs in march, then also monte carlo for good measure. this is to give him a nice healthy deficit in the atp race, aka the question of whether he's going to secure his... nth consecutive year end number one, let's not think too hard about timelines stuff. crucially he wants that streak to go on - it's not as important as the career slam, but it very much matters and now it does look in serious jeopardy. idk, does sete secure the sunshine dubs? kinda asking a lot, but he's racked up a lot of points for sure - so despite winning the australian open, valentino has a lot of work to do. he's not really in a massive amount of danger of LOSING the number one spot early in the year since his post-uso run banked him a LOT of points that only drop off the rankings late in the year. but still. he's a very clear second in the race. first tournament back is rome and he's playing the final in front of his home crowd against sete - it's a very close match, tough to manage for valentino, especially physically after a decent stretch off. the rain bails valentino out by giving him a break in play and when they come back... sete's very good in tricky conditions but valentino's ball is working really well in the heavy clay and valentino scrapes out a win. sete makes a comment later that can be interpreted as ever so slightly shady about how the italian fans must have done a rain dance. also there was like... a small controversy around earlier in the match where the umpire checked the wrong mark of valentino's and called one of his balls out when it was actually in. valentino annoyed because he feels like he's been disproportionately affected by bad umpiring in the past year

valentino also wins hamburg and he AGAIN plays sete at some point in the proceedings. good close match and they're both very complimentary about each other afterwards. and then he wins roland garros and once again has played sete. this match... hm idk what kind of controversy do we want here, let's make it a slightly dodgy medical timeout from valentino at the sharp end of proceedings. that back won't fix itself!! on-court massage etc etc. valentino scrapes past sete once again to win the title. extremely successful injury comeback and the choice to switch the serving technique mostly vindicated, even though valentino otherwise has very much emphasised his individuality. he's playing with more freedom again, he's doing all his silly lil shots, he's not embarrassed at his four hour matches and instead embraces the grind. the battle. sete visibly pissed after this match though they talk it out and it's all good <3 should also be noted that sete is racking up quite a lot of points despite losing eventually to valentino and is still fairly firmly in the lead of the race. lot of talk of valentino losing year end number one, especially if he overextends himself

and at wimbledon, valentino loses a slam final for the first time ever. in a way, it's a Good Effort to get that far - again, no lead-in events. he's picked up an abdominal strain at some point that's also vaguely serve-related. (kinda thinking of a djokovic 2021 ao type situation.) now for obvious reasons, this final has to be lost in a slightly controversial way. my longstanding thesis on the valentino tennis front is that he's one of those people who thinks all kind of mind games and trickery is perfectly a-okay but then suddenly has weird hang ups if someone disregards something tennis etiquette related. I do have a very specific tennis player in mind, and if you're a reasonably long time fan of the sport and its drama you'll probably know what I'm talking about here, but I do love when somebody is, uh,, very..... liberal. in a lot of their approach to etiquette but does seem to take apologising for let cords extremely seriously. now this one is kinda tricky because !! I do feel like sete specifically also generally would be pretty pro etiquette so obviously there has to be an element of ambiguity here. I'm not entirely happy with this as a qatar equivalent, it's not an easy one to figure out, but here's what I've got: quite deep into the match, very tense in a tiebreak, there's a point where valentino is at the net, a lot of faffing about as they chase each other around, and then sete hits valentino in the abdomen. in tennis this is Fine, it literally is not that serious, sometimes you hit an opponent accidentally and sometimes you do it on purpose because it's a good tactic and the most high percentage play. it's even more okay if somebody at the back does it to a volleyer I feel, like it's not a smash from the volleyer at someone standing in the court... maybe valentino was off balance and just a bit slow to react to get the racquet up. obviously it's extra painful and has a more severe effect given what injury he's already carrying (always thought somebody should have given that a shot with djokovic) but it's Fine. except then it looks like sete turns around to receive his towel without apologising, maybe he half indicates with the racquet but not clearly. and valentino is Furious. maybe sete even gives the proper apology hand gesture by the time he's got the towel but by that point it's too late - it set up sete's set point, so that's why sete was a bit distracted and trying to focus on himself.... but valentino doesn't care. mind games, deeply cynical use of the crowd etc etc are one thing, but not properly apologising?? height of unsportsmanlike conduct. valentino also later objects to how enthusiastically sete's coach celebrated the point win

(the reasoning here generally is that motogp is more concerned with ethical violations and tennis more with moral ones. motogp is more about community and doing right by another rider, tennis cares about standards and etiquette and doing right by some sort of abstract code of conduct. ultimately what is being communicated here is an emotional truth - valentino's feeling that sete lacks respect for him, and also will do whatever it takes to win despite pretending to be relatively unaffected by individual matches or the atp race or whatever. I tried thinking of something sete might snitch to the umpire about for a closer equivalent but like... I can't come up with anything that preserves the genuine sense of ambiguity. the other one I was toying with is a double bounce controversy, which... works better for another rivalry because it doesn't feel quite right for *sete* to be the clear offender... like you could maybe have the umpire mistakenly call a double bounce for valentino but idk, you wouldn't really expect another player to intervene there... this version feels more visceral emotionally somehow, in line with the qatar crash)

sete goes on to win the set and also the match against a somewhat physically impaired and also FURIOUS valentino. (incidentally, this physical impairment is later used to undermine sete's accomplishment at this tournament, as I'm sure is true of all three of sete's slams.) cue an extremely horrid vibes trophy ceremony. after mostly blanking sete in-person, valentino airs his grievances in the press conference, where he lays into sete's conduct. it is also rumoured that at some point that evening valentino says that....... um........... sete will never win another tournament again in which valentino is in the draw. okay, look, doesn't have quite the same ring to it, but I think it works well enough. that's all the major tournaments anyway, but saying "sete won't win another slam" isn't curse-y enough and "sete won't win another big tournament* again // *by big tournament we include slams, 1000s and also the year end finals plus olympics, though 250 and 500 tournaments are excluded from consideration" also isn't exactly overflowing with poetry. but if you left out that 'valentino in the draw' proviso... idk irl the curse wasn't a curse in the moment as much as it was a competitive vow. in this universe, valentino could not stop sete from vulturing marseille - so he needs to have a vow he theoretically has the direct power to enforce. anyway. the friendship is OVER. not only does valentino feel slighted, but also this whole ordeal has put sete in a promising position to steal year end number one off valentino, especially if valentino once again fails to secure us open. he could lose his crown. AND according to valentino, sete behaved completely unacceptably [insert heavy implications that he aimed deliberately at valentino to injure him and get the title that way that valentino won't outright SAY but clearly go alongside the dumber etiquette breach stuff]. idk we're aiming for a mix of 'yeah I get why you'd be mad about that' and 'is it really that serious',, quite tricky but that's what I've got

at this point, any sensible person would take as much time as possible to lick their wounds, especially given they promised a career slam. but valentino Shall Not - he made a commitment to his home fans and he's going to honour that. so off he goes to play his stupid dumbass tournaments in bologna and naples. obviously he wins them because the draw really is not all that good, but it's still very... god what is he doing, has he given his abdomen enough time to rest... he then decides to skip canada because we have to draw the line somewhere, luckily for him sete doesn't win that (maybe he withdrew too and valentino only withdrew once he'd heard lol). and then valentino goes to cincy and wins THAT. doesn't play sete who lost fairly early, which has at least somewhat tightened up the race to ye#1. and THEN you get the us open, aka valentino's chance to secure a Major Career Milestone in a year where it looked really unlikely at points he'd come even close to that kind of thing. faces sete in the final obviously. (low key this is super strong season sete's putting together here but the streets won't acknowledge it and will call him a weak era merchant.) valentino drops his obligatory first set and then they're off.... after that epic uso semi of the previous year, valentino has never lost another tight match to sete again. his serve really is better now and trickier to bully. BUT but but crucially... you gotta have that vibe where it's very much a slam run that feels valentino-y... tightening up his offensive game is an alien era character arc - this is counterpunching at its most glorious. and it's really designed to torture sete. every time they're in a neutral rally, it feels like no shot from sete is good enough to escape from valentino's grasp. pure ruthless intent in the amount of high spin valentino plays into sete's backhand. sete never safe from valentino's blistering backhand down the line. dropshots targeted to humiliate - valentino coming up to the ball with a big big takeback, instinctively making sete step back, only for him to slip the racquet into an extremely well disguised dropper. it's a very high quality battle - sete takes the third on a loose valentino service game, before valentino wins a comfortable fourth set. which means sete is serving first in the fifth set - and at *4-5, valentino faces two match points, which he adeptly saves. one with an extremely brave serve and volley. they end up in a deciding set tiebreak (already a thing at the uso back then) and valentino wins to secure his career slam. sete congratulates him but the vibes are frigid

from there on, valentino sees out the race to get year number one with relative ease. now if you've been paying close attention, you've probably noticed that I mentioned madrid taking place after the us open the previous season, which makes for a very obvious jerez 2005 opportunity. and... there's a strong case to be made for making madrid the jerez, I hear it, but... look, to me there's a funnier jerez expy. so let's just take it as read that sete is winning none of these tournaments. sete's fortunes from there are going downhill, he's getting unlucky with various minor injuries that are taking him out of tournaments. and also obviously valentino is beating him every time they face each other - for a while it's always in finals until eventually sete's ranking is allowed to drop a bit. I suppose you could make quite an obvious parallel in terms of valentino only winning the year end finals TWICE in his career,, like with valencia irl. I don't have massively strong feelings about his indoor hard prowess so sure, let's say he struggles with the ultra fast hard they tend to have at the finals. anyway, he secures year end number one, revels in the schadenfreude, also beats sete in the round robin at the finals... it's all extremely satisfying

before we get to the jerez equivalent. I do think it's worth briefly addressing the Vibe of this relationship... it's tough because tennis functions more on the micro level, like you kinda have championship narratives playing out within single *matches*. it's way more about these little moments within sets, games, points, than the macro level I've been focusing on here. I think crucially you have to emphasise that valentino feels like he's under a lot of pressure to perform and that there's never enough winning and that he has to conform to certain expectations wrt scheduling... no fucking about with your canada obligations to play clay 250s at home... and the key thing is that sete really really isn't supposed to be The Challenger. so at a certain point in the 2003-equivalent, it really does feel like people won't be happy unless valentino wins everything. this relationship is a death by a thousand cuts type situation... a lot of very minor infringements, things in matches valentino doesn't like, tonal differences he thinks he detects during practise session. there's a reason why serious rivals in tennis basically always keep their distance from each other - it's an intensely emotional and personal sport and you can't really afford extra complications when you can look the other person in the eyes between every point. tennis matches are long and they are fantastically cruel. you are denying somebody else their dream very, very slowly, with lots of pauses to consider what you're doing

in tennis... tbh, I think there'd be a lot of Discourse about even HAVING a friendship in the first place, like Is It Really Smart For Valentino Rossi To Be This Close To His Rival. slight irony to this of course because in motogp, it's seen as some sort of crime against nature when he DOES get a little bit of distance from his title rivals, but tennis is different!! a sort of williams sisters situation is extremely rare - when tennis rivals at the very highest level get close, they really only do so post-retirement. that kind of rivalry takes its toll. if valentino continues to train with sete during much of this time span... eventually, you're putting a serious amount of strain on that relationship where you're practically begging it to snap. and this young version of valentino isn't exactly experienced at managing these emotions yet either, so he has this increased competitive paranoia and bitterness and frustration and feeling that sete is lying about taking their friendship seriously and doing the Respectful Rivalry schtick and then just... snaps. that wimbledon final kinda makes him unravel and sete only realises until it's too late. it's the us open trophy ceremony where I think you want to lay on the cruelty - this is where, as valentino, if you toe the line very carefully and don't make it TOO obvious, I reckon you could get that new york crowd to laugh at the loser by using your speech. microphone in hand, you can do all your mockery with the pretence of gentle ribbing (and it's very valentino in that he doesn't have to look sete in the eye while doing it) but the humiliation is very real. you can make a spectacle of the cruelty and the uso crowd will help you out. and that specific crowd would adore valentino I reckon

now we're gonna skim over the next season. if I were doing a full valentino in tennis treatment, I'd probably elongate 2001 over two seasons, make valentino a bit older in the 2004 equivalent and then collapse 2005 and 2006 into a single season, partly because I'm getting a bit leery of how many slams I'm having valentino rack up. the 2006 equivalent would be losing the calendar slam at the final hurdle idk. I'm not super wedded to that, I'd have to then actually do the maths and figure out where my suspension of disbelief kicks in with slam numbers/sustained periods of domination. but for now, let's just say that this new season is going great for valentino and not great at all for sete, curse taking more and more effect bla bla bla. now idk maybe making previous year madrid into jerez DOES work better because you have the immediacy of this next defeat as the Final Nail In Sete's Coffin, as something that fucked with sete's confidence and ensured his 2005 was disastrous, but... I would like to make the case for wimbledon. by this point, sete is two time defending champion there. of all the motogp riders, I do feel like sete has the most of a wimbledon vibe, they'd like how well-spoken and classy he is. and... I know the brits were canonically terrors on valentino's behalf slightly later in the timeline, but tennis is a bit of a different crowd and idk,, let's just say they really take to sete. I just think this is a fun one for a jerez equivalent because a) it's a slam final which means both very high stakes and longer match format to work with, and b) it's harder to make the tennis brits jeer but it CAN be done. and as the number one fan of valentino rossi being booed, I just really love the image of the wimbledon crowd booing valentino. I think for this one for maximum devastation you can throw in a two sets to love lead, which in spite of what this current decade might have you believe used to be a very rare lead to overturn in slam finals. making grass sete's strongest surface also means you get a bit of... y'know, this is the last fortress, this is where sete can still properly challenge valentino. and he's really got the crowd going for him, cheering for the underdog etc etc, it's all very smart play and he's clearly gone away and studied everything valentino has done to beat him and has come up with tactics to change that around. this is a guy who puts a lot of thought into his game who has figured out how to challenge valentino in ways in which valentino hadn't been challenged before, and he's still doing that - it's working. wins at least one set super clearly, a 6-1 type gig

and then valentino's brain kicks into motion and he adjusts. he's not beaten sete on grass before and it's clear he's struggling with it, sete way better at compensating for any shortfalls in his game here. grinding is always going to struggle on grass, and unlike some of valentino's opponents sete doesn't faint at the sight of a slice. so what valentino ends up doing is... very risky tennis that prioritises getting further into the court and to the net whenever possible. on the rise shots, chip and charge, ghost in after shots whenever possible. serve and volley! obviously. it's extremely tough to deal with a player suddenly playing a completely different style, to feed you a different kind of ball whenever possible. valentino basically just decides that he's not going to allow the game to be decided at the baseline At All and if he can't go forward, he'll use the dropshot to drag sete forwards. gets a lot of use out of his lob, which he loves. really trying to wrong foot sete whenever possible. sete tries to return valentino's dropshots with his own dropshots and it plays into valentino's hands. those two sets go by fairly quickly too, it's a grass match, these things can go fast... you end up embroiled in a deciding set. now, I think we're going to use a really strong 1-2 punch to properly piss off the brits, who are fully rooting for sete here - and both of these are callbacks to sources of controversy that have previously been mentioned here. first off, I think we should reverse what happened the previous year at wimby as a symbolic bookend, and have valentino fire a ball at sete. now I know I said incidents of shooting a ball at someone are completely okay, but there's... ones that are more okay and ones that are less okay. if you have a lot of time on a smash, one you can aim literally anywhere else rather than an opponent who's clearly already given up on the point - and you still hit your opponent? I mean it's... it's absolutely still a legit tactic but not necessarily ones crowds LOVE. you can't do too many of those before you get a reputation, but if valentino's mostly squeaky clean on that front I reckon he gets away with One. now, obviously, he immediately and with full power of theatre and spite on his side very clearly apologises to sete with his hands. the kind of apology that is very much a fuck you. the brits are unimpressed. then the OTHER thing you bring back is another thing most people these days don't mind but the wrong kind of crowd HATES - the underarm serve. on championship point. he doesn't have an injury justification this time - it's supposed to read as disrespectful. valentino does a really strong job with it, very unexpected, getting a lot of side spin on the ball and drawing sete to the net to lob him one last time. they boo him all the way to the net, where sete has Words with valentino but still shakes his hand

at this point, turning to the crowd, valentino can obviously go for the whole routine. I love love love his canonical jerez 2005 performance because he's got so many of my favourite 'you're being booed' hits in there and it's like,, very spontaneous, it's like watching someone come up with the mona lisa from scratch. you've got the excessive fist pumping at the crowd, you've got the finger to the sky, the hands on hips, the waving, the CLAPPING at the crowd AND the thumbs up... honestly if he'd put his finger to his lips, cupped his ears and beckoned at the crowd to keep going, he would've gotten the full set. I think he already does a lot of that DURING the fifth set because the beauty of tennis is you get a lot of that crowd interaction in-built and valentino would be MADE for that, but I ALSO think he goes full ham after the match. throughout the trophy ceremony, where sete is like. kinda disapproving but is verbally very clean and respectful and just acknowledges the crowd for all their support. and valentino is grinning shamelessly. practically drowning in malice

and yeah after that sete's career basically collapses. though I want to get One more hit in there - a sort of once more with feeling sachsenring 2005 situation, maybe at cincy idk. where you get a reversal of the point with which valentino set up match point at the us open two years previously - valentino attacking sete right where sete is standing and valentino easily passes him. now sete, frazzled, low on confidence, seemingly destined to always fall apart in front of valentino even when he gets close to victory, plays right at valentino, who passes him for the match win. just real studies in despair type shit. incidentally sachsenring 2005 was the last time they ever shared a podium, so in this world it's the last final they ever play. one more brutal defeat, one more disgustingly bad vibes trophy ceremony shared. the rumoured 'curse' is by this point well established urban legend. sete doesn't even manage to win ANY other tournament at any level as his results are just increasingly fucked. this feels super tennis-y tbh. like valentino in general has some very tennis-coded attributes, and an approach to competition that heavily features tormenting rivals until their confidence collapses is absolutely one of them. tennis in general is more like... accepting conceptually that the brain does indeed Matter, maybe because it's just impossible to deny there, whereas with motogp mind games get discussed in a very weird manner as if like. every act in competition isn't a mind game. come on you people. so 'suddenly becoming unable to close tight matches because your confidence is gone' feels very tennis-y. sometimes you fix it sometimes you don't. sete doesn't

in conclusion. um. I do think you have to be prepared to take some liberties with both characters, I'm not saying I think this is a perfect equivalent, I know there's a lot to be critiqued about my qatar 2004 in particular. also, obviously injuries have to some extent be used as a stand-in for like. bike related issues. I know valentino canonically is very blessed on the injury front, but tennis functions kinda differently where... idk they might not be competing with these big dramatic injuries, but they will inevitably have recurring issues they have to work around. AND schedule around. few tennis matches will result in you breaking both ankles, but breaking both ankles precludes you from playing a tennis match. and that's just a fact of competitive life in tennis that you can take advantage of with valentino, in a way that also precludes any serious injuries from taking him out of THE biggest tournaments for any sustained period of time (during his most competitive era anyway)

so. I think what you want to emphasise here is a genuine friendship that gets increasingly warped by the introduction of competitive stakes, and how at a certain point every minor offence can take on an exaggerated meaning in a very tense environment. sete isn't really prepared to deal with this adjustment and isn't prepared to deal with the version of valentino that comes with it. and valentino isn't really prepared either... he's trying to find a way to manage expectations by going his own way and Not conforming, whether he's doing that with his playstyle or with his haircuts or with his scheduling, prioritising matters of the heart + passion over competitive convenience. and then he's facing a challenger who can beat him in a way that HURTS, a guy who wasn't supposed to be his primary challenger and is his FRIEND but is now beating him at the tournaments valentino really cares about and in ways that valentino is generally beating everyone else. somebody who shows that valentino isn't the only clever top player, somebody who actually has a decent stab at outsmarting valentino. it's bruising for the ego and it's tough to stomach from a friend - who is simultaneously super committed to the clean image of the rivalry as something that's very respectful (unlike vale/biaggi), where they can actually talk about their issues rather than have a fistfight

once you get the breaking point, it's basically just an excuse for valentino to separate himself from sete, to finally get the distance he needed. eventually, valentino gets to dig into the full reservoir of mind games with sete. he does this on a competitive level by relishing those exact right situations where sete was getting the better of him, making crucial adjustments to his game and tactics so that suddenly all those tight matches always go in his favour; he figures out where sete is weak and keeps hammering him there. he does this by publicly making fun of sete, knowing that sete is so committed to his civility that he will not respond in kind. he does this by mirroring sete's past offences back at him, and by doing it with a particular malicious relish. this arch dismissiveness to ridicule the idea that sete could ever have hoped to be a sustained rival. it's all about the cruelty of putting sete back in his place. and eventually it gets to a point where it really DOES feel like a curse, where sete can't trust the game valentino has poked so many holes in to work against EVERYONE. injuries eventually make his career tail off. somehow, it feels like valentino is responsible even for that

[silver-tongued-deovel]

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A/N: Two of my main interests at the moment are horror movies and call of duty fanfics. Naturally, I decided to combine the two. I got through the first chapter of a fanfic. However, I can't tell if I like it or not. I was hoping you guys would share your opinions and suggestions on where to take it!

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☆A Movie that I've Seen Too Many Times☆

♡Word Count:~2.6k♡

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"You're either fucking stupid or printed out the worst directions possible! After being stuck in the car with you all day, I'm beginning to think the former!" Your husband half-shouts.

He helped you pick this route, but you don't mention that, nor do you argue. He's been driving all day, and you're sure he's frustrated. He doesn't mean to take it out on you, you lie to yourself. He snatches the map out of your hands.

"Maybe we should pull over, honey,” you suggest. Anthony has always been a distracted driver; you hate it.

"I can multi-task," he argues while swerving. You suck in a breath and close your eyes, trying to will yourself to be patient. This is supposed to be a vacation for both of you. It's supposed to be relaxing and renewing to your relationship. That's what the therapist said.

Reminding yourself of this, you re-open your eyes. You're met with the wide eyes of a deer standing in the middle of the road, "Anthony!" You start to scream. He looks up just in time to watch the car collide with the deer.

The deer goes flying above your car, only to fall back down in front of it again. During the ascent, it smashes against your windshield. The glass shatters, and you feel the shards collide with your skin. Some shards lodge themselves in your skin; other shards leave behind artificial cuts. As it descends, it lands with a thunk. Anthony has let go of the wheel to shield his face but hasn't braked in time. Upon hitting the deer's body again, the car juts into a ditch. It finally stops; the only thing that can be heard are the deep breaths coming from you and Anthony, along with a faint beeping from an error message on the dashboard. Fuck.

It takes a while for either of you to speak or even move, for that matter.

----

"Stupid fucking deer," Anthony finally curses as he bangs his hands against the steering wheel. He quickly retracts them and hisses. You understand why; everything hurts. There's silence again.

"We should call someone," You say after a few more minutes of silence. For once, Anthony doesn't argue with you. You're glad. Instead, he nods and pops open the center console. He pulls out his black flip phone before closing the console again. You leave your phone in there. You see no use in grabbing it; it's not like you have anybody to call.

"I'll call the insurance's roadside assistance line," he informs you. You're surprised he didn't suggest calling his family first but then remember how late it is. You're glad. You hate his family. Not that you'd ever admit it.

"Ok," you say, though, you don't think you need to. Anthony goes to flip open his phone. The screen is damaged; multiple colored lines are all that's displayed.

"You can use mine," you offer. Your voice is soft, but Antony's eyes still snap over to you. He shakes his head.

"The thing should still be able to make calls," he says. He's never liked your phone. It's an old touch screen, Nokia. As he starts to punch in the numbers, you see lights in the distance.

"Anthony, look," you nudge his arm. He goes to reprimand you but stops as the lights get brighter while they approach. You squint your eyes and make out a large truck.

"Stay in the car. I'll flag them down," Anthony says as he puffs out his chest. You don't think the car offers you any protection at this point, but listen nonetheless. You're exhausted, and you don't feel like arguing. Besides, if you argue now, you might miss potential help.

Anthony's door is jammed from the accident. He has to slam against it to scramble out. He hisses as he puts weight on his feet. You know he'll tell you all about the problem later. For now, he rushes to the side of the road and waves hands.

The truck comes to a screeching halt beside him. You can see everything clearly from the car. You notice a carry-on trailer attached to the truck. The pickup driver rolls down his window and stares down at your husband as he frantically explains what happened-or his version of what happened. The only thing you notice from your spot is that this guy is wearing a mask. A mask with a skull on it. Why would someone need to drive with a skull mask on? You want to put your head in your hands and scream. This man is going to murder you and your husband and do God knows what with the bodies. It's the only conclusion you can come to.

As your husband finishes up his speech, the guy's head slightly turns as he inspects the damage of the vehicle. You swear his eyes stop on you for a few seconds before he mumbles something to your husband and puts the truck in park. Then he swings open the truck door and steps out. He's huge-easily over 6 feet. He towers over Anthony, then he's walking past him and towards your car.

You're going to die. You're going to get murdered by this beast of a man, your brain unhelpfully repeats as you remain frozen in the car. It takes a few seconds to realize the man has asked you a question. He must notice your confused look because he repeats himself.

"Why are you still in the car? Could be unsafe." He says as he approaches the passenger side.

"Uhm," you're going to make an excuse for your husband. However, your brain stops that from happening as the man pulls open your door and lifts you out of the car. You're stunned at his display of strength. It feels like you weigh nothing as he holds you close. You whimper at the feeling; the impact has left you aching, and multiple areas where the glass broke through skin are still bleeding.

The man looks down at you when you whimper but provides no comfort. Although you think his grip loosens just a tad, he carries you up to the road, past Anthony, and prys open his truck door. Anthony doesn't say anything, but you see him glaring. You wiggle a bit in the man's arms, stuck between fight, flight, and freeze. It doesn't seem to bother him as he sets you down in the middle seat and closes the door. You're relieved to hear him offer both you and your husband a ride, as well as to tow the car. Anthony enthusiastically accepts the offer, seemingly forgetting about his previous grievance, as he cooperates with the masked man to haul the car onto the trailer at the back of the truck.

Next thing you know, Anthony is getting into the truck on the passenger's side, and the man is getting back into the driver's seat. You can't help but stare. He stares back, but he's not staring at your face; you look down to where his eyes meet your arm. Your long sleeve has ridden up, revealing a hand-shaped bruise. You tug the long sleeve bag down hastily. Eyeing both men beside you, you notice Anthony hasn't seemed to notice the interaction.

As the man starts the truck, Anthony introduces the two of you. The man eyes the both of you as he drives.

"Friends call me Simon," he responds.

"Thanks for the help, Simon," Anthony interrupts.

Simon glares. "You can call me Ghost, though,” he finishes.

The drive continues in silence.

----

It's been about 45 minutes, according to the trucks built-in digital clock. The silence has made it feel longer, but now you're driving up an old gravel road. The jagged road jostles the three of you. It hurts, and the dried blood has been making you uncomfortable the whole drive, but you remain silent.

You think you can see a porch light on. Your heart sinks. You've been anxious the entire ride. Pulling up to a house in the middle of nowhere seemingly confirms your fears-that Ghost is taking you to the middle of nowhere to murder you.

Logically, you know you're probably at a house because it's much too late for any auto shop to be open. But you don't want to think logically. You want to be in a very public area - without a masked man sitting next to you. The truck gets shifts into park.

"Oh, honey," you turn towards Anthony. "Simon," he clears his throat, "I mean Ghost, has been kind enough to let us stay the night. One of his roommates is going to take a look at the car tomorrow."

You look toward Ghost now. Your hands are sweaty as you grip your thighs. Please, by some miracle, let him be super against traditional gender roles or even a fuckboy; please let his roommates all be girls, you beg internally.

Ghost eyes your hands before shifting his gaze to both you and Anthony, "Yeah. Texted ‘em earlier. Let me make sure they know. Stay outside,” he explains shortly.

Anthony nods and begins to exit the vehicle just as Ghost does. You're rooted to your seat. You've watched too many horror movies for this. Noticing that you're unmoving, Anthony grabs your wrist and unkindly tugs you behind him. It hurts, given the still-healing bruises and new gashes, but you've gotten good at biting your tongue.

You and Anthony wait on the porch as Ghost ducks inside. As soon as you're sure he's out of ear shot, you speak. "Are you sure this is safe, Anthony?" you ask.

"What better option do we have?" While you know he's right, you hate the venom in his voice. You remain silent for the rest of the wait.

You hear the footsteps of Ghost, along with two other people before you see them. The door is swings open, and they all pile outside. All three are men. All three are huge. Anthony shakes their hands while you cautiously his lead. The men grip your husband's hand rough as they introduce themselves: Soap and Price. What odd and obviously fake names.

They're much more gentle with your hand and much chattier than Ghost, especially the Scottish one.

He has a mohawk, which, admittedly, looks good on him. You've never seen anyone actually rock a mohawk and look good, until now.

"Yer a pretty lass; yer husband's a lucky man," Soap says as his handshake turns into a hug. The force of it makes you groan.

"Careful, Johnny; the poor girl's clearly hurt,” Price reprimands him, and Soap allows you to pull away from his embrace, as if he is just now noticing your injuries from the wreck.

"Poor lass," he says with a frown. "We'll get you fixed up, then to bed, so you feel better in the morning!" He reassures you.

You're pretty sure there won't be a morning for you. Three men who live alone in the woods, and who just gave you fake names? You and Anthony are done for.

As you step inside, Soap pays Anthony no mind, while Price dissects him with a scrutinizing glare. "Let's get inside," Price finally says. Soap guides you in front of him, Ghost follows closely behind, then Anthony, and lastly, Price. The lock clicks shut behind him.

Sitting on the couch is another man, the lamp beside him casting a warm glow over the medical supplies laid out on the coffee table. Great, there are four of them. You are so dead. You don't realize you've stopped until Soap nudges you forward.

“It's okay, lass. That's just Gaz,” Soap reassures you. These men are all strangers, and you are not reassured, but you force yourself forward anyway as Gaz waves you over.

“Come on, take a seat. Let me take a look at your injuries,” Gaz says as he pats the cushion next to him. His voice is softer, and he appears friendlier than the rest, but you can't shake the feeling of dread.

“You're cut up pretty bad,” Gaz says, his voice thick with sympathy. You want desperately to believe it's genuine, to relax, and let your guard down. But your instincts scream at you to stay alert as he soaks a cotton ball in alcohol.

Anthony has seated himself on the love seat, while Ghost is crouches in front of him, patching your husband up without words. Price watches closely. Soap moves to the other side of you. You know Anthony is pretending to be tough in front of these four men; he's always had a low pain tolerance. You suspect they know, too, but nobody says anything.

“This might sting,” Gaz says, pulling you out of your thoughts with his warning. You look towards him and nod. You figured as much.

“I'll hold yer hand if ye want, bonnie.” Soap offers with a grin. You shake your head no, but he takes your hand anyway. You don't argue. Gaz starts to dab the cuts on your upper body, cleaning them, removing any remaining glass when necessary, and bandaging the wounds. A few need stitches, a task he handles with ease. You're scared to ask how he's so well-versed in the skill. You occasionally squeeze the Soap's hand when a cut particularly burns. He grins every time and talks through the whole process. It's a nice distraction, especially when Gaz has to reveal more of your skin. He's surprisingly respectful about it, but everyone's gaze (except Anthony's and Ghost's) lingers on various bruises for far too long. Since the bruises are in various stages of healing, it's clear they're not from the accident. You're embarrassed; you don't like to appear weak.

But you might be weak. Weak enough to stay, at least. You think, regretfully. You can't bring yourself to tune into Soap's chatter. You're tuned into your own thoughts. You were stupid to think this vacation would change anything. There wasn't even going to be a vacation now. You and Anthony are going to have to deal with the bill of fixing the car. The money was going to come from the vacation fund, among other funds with how bad the thing looked. That'd mean more hours at work for the both of you. Anthony would cope with his frustrations with booze and violence. Possibly even other women, you wouldn't put it past him.

A hand touches your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. You realize Gaz has stopped stitching the area on your shoulder-it was the last wound that needed to be cared for. He had removed a particularly large piece of glass from it.

Soap turns your face toward him. “You okay, bonnie? You look like you're about to cry. You can tell us if it hurts,” he says, his voice the softest you've heard it all night. You blinked the tears away that you hadn't noticed were there.

“I'm okay; you can continue,” you mumble.

“Are you sure?” Gaz asks. “We can take a break.”

“I'm sure,” you say, closing your eyes.

You realize everyone is looking at you. Ghost must have finished with Anthony a few moments ago as he's taken a seat next to him now. You note that he man-spreads when he sits. Price is still standing, arms crossed. He may be looking at you, but he's clearly lost in thought. Anthony is staring at you with a mean look in his eyes as if he thinks you enjoy attention-that you're enjoying this. You're not.

[fantaseagal]

so I have uh... been playing a lot of dragon age the past few months

good games. had fun :) extended spoilery ramblings about my time under the cut.

I started with Inquisition cause I knew people liked it and it ran well (unlike what I saw from Origins' steam page and would VERY much experience later). I then went back to play Origins and then 2 and am currently replaying Inquisition now that I know all the lore (Sera x Qunari Inquisitor is going great). I really like how even though I played mage through all 3, each of my girls ended up being very different characters.

Inquisition

To start with, Evira was my belligerently Dalish girlie. She fucking hated Solas and the way he acted like he knew so much more about magic than she did. Idk why, but his approval gain for asking him about his interest in the fade and magic ticked me, the player, off so I held a grudge against him for like 2/3rds of the playthrough.

Evira flirted with most of the girls, especially Vivienne, but ended up dating Josephine. Love that you get to have a whole duel for your girl's honor with her old fiancé. I did that in a heartbeat. I also flirted ONCE with Cullen in the chess scene cause it sounded funny and the game gave me the option to commit to dating him immediately after and I almost panicked.

Gameplay-wise, Inquisition felt a bit long. A lot of the areas felt way bigger than they needed to be. To be fair I did not use the horse as much as I maybe should have, and I feel it's been going a lot faster on my replay but there's still a lot of world to traverse even just to get between main story points. I still had fun, and Tresspasser's much smaller loop was nice after dealing with the giant scale of the main game before it.

I also stumbled into the deep roads dlc immediately after getting to Skyhold which was a very bad idea in retrospect. It was terrifying.

Origins

For Origins, I fully leaned into what I'd learned of the lore in Inquisition and played Ceres as a super devout Andrastian (picked up from her time in the Circle). She was very much a quiet little rules follower who just wanted to rat on Jowan and got pressured into helping him by the first enchanter. I also played her as having some real issues with her elven identity: hiding her ears with her hair and putting off going to Denerim or the Dalish as much as possible.

I dated Leliana (not that I had much choice as a Lesbian) and it was very sweet. Loved giving her Schmooples the nug. Best gift interaction in the game :)

As a story, Origins was great. Ceres definitely went through a whole self acceptance journey while also saving the world from the blight. It made me feel for the stakes as the end game really pushes hard choice after hard choice at you (I am so sorry Alistair for forcing you to be king and marry your dead brother's wife and have sex with the woman who has been bullying you the entire journey)

As a game, man does Origins crash so much. I didn't realise just how stressful it was just to play the game and try to not have it crash until I went to go play DA2 and had a weight lifted off my shoulders. Also, the game could've done with 10% less Morrigan bullying Alistair and 90% less Oghren sexually harassing the girls (I so regret taking him, Leliana, and Morrigan as my deep roads party, just for the girls' sake)

Awakening was a fun change from the high pressure of Origins. It was a fresh start with new companions (aside from Oghren, yipee... (I do totally get why he was the one Origins character to stay for Awakening, I just don't like him)). Anders and Justice were particular standouts for me (and I was SO glad to see their evolution in DA2)

DA2

Man I love this game. Varric the unreliable narrator my beloved. Any narrative inconsistency can just be explained as Varric gooffing. It's already just his telling of the events and just as accurate as anybody's fanfic if you think about it. You died? Just a goof. Interrior maps are all the same? Yeah they sure look that way bud.

I love the way the game immediately gives you stakes in the mage templar conflict and keeps pulling at those stakes with Hawke's family. I kinda love how Carver just wants Hawke to keep her head down as a mage but you as the player just can't keep your nose out of anyone's business. I made Carver stay home during the deep roads expedition cause, ya know, he isn't a mage that's going to constantly be in danger from the templars and mom doesn't want both her kids to die down there.

The messy conversation when getting back from the deep roads to see Carver joining the templars stuck in my head for so long because I know that I picked a dialogue choice I really shouldn't have. And even though I know it's a game and I could've just reloaded to pick something better, I let that sour realness stay because it absolutely was something Avery would've said.

I played Avery as funny girl who cannot shut up to save her life (while trying to be kind and respectful when needed). She was only going to be able to keep her head down around the templars for so long. She would have always taken the mages side from her own experience, but getting intimate with Anders definitely radicalized her. He was also definitely the one to teach her how to use healing magic cause girl would not have just picked that up on her own.

Going into DA2 having already played both Origins and Inquisition, it felt super clear that this was the exact midpoint between the 2 games and I honestly love it for that. It's very much a sequel to Origins, but in retrospect, so much of it directly flows into Inquisition al well. While I missed getting to share armor loot with my companions, I can see how this led to the character specific armor designs in Inquisition. And on Hawke's side of things, I know a bunch of the mage robes were definitely just lifted from Origns cause those models were crunchy as hell.

I loved the writing in DA2. It was funny. It was heart wrenching. The Hawke family was messy, but deep down they all really cared for one another, and I cared about them. The companions quests, even if sometimes super short, did a lot to flesh them out as complex players in the even bigger mess that is Kirkwall.

DA2 was definitely a lot shorter than Origins or Inquisition (by half according to my playtime) but it was just so tightly packed with story. This game has been living in my head rent free even as I'm 20 hrs into my 2nd playthrough of Inquisition. I'm still thinking about the little interstitial moments that would've happened to the characters, what they did when everything fell apart, where they went.

I did get pretty pissed that Inquisition won't let me put the same tattoos from DA2 on Hawke! What's the point of me recreating my girl in your new character creator if 2/3rds of the tattoo options are being wasted by transparency!!!!! >:( She looks so close but she's not the same without her tattoos :(

TLDR: I love my girls. Love playing mage. Love the time I spent with them. All three games were fun but DA2 hit way harder in all the right ways

[dreamshipsxoxo]

Halo Everyone!!! This'll be my selfship blog, mainly using this so I won't clog up my main one!!! This is my main @samesoftdreams!

You can call me Dreams or SoftDreams! I'm 18 yrs and I'm kinda new to self-shipping as a hold but I'd love to be friends and be a part of this! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

This will be used to interact and post stuff surrounding self-shipping and with my fos! And my status with them all is sharing, I have no problem with sharing regardless of others statues with them!

Pls don't interact with me if you do any illegal selfships, trying to age up/down character, or pro/comships. I will block accounts or you can block me that's fine too.

DNI: Racists, Homophobic, Transphobic, Terfs, MAPS, anybody who is gross/rude or targets people for no reason

My F/Os

Alex Bale-Don't Feed The Muse(Romantic)

Muse-Don't Feed The Muse(Romantic)

Alex Bale-Pizza Time Pizza(Romantic)

Hope you enjoy this blog and have a great day to whoever reads this!!!! ♡⁠˖⁠꒰⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠⑅⁠꒱

(FYI not selfshipping with the actual Alex Bale. Only the character/persona he's playing. Think similar to Markiplier and his egos! Just don't wanna cause any confusion/misinterpret!)

Created a strawpage, if y'all wanna look!!!