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phantomchick · 4 years ago

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List of wips - aka struggles

Call Me A Jason Todd fic I started two years ago and still go back to poke at longingly, will the second and final chapter ever be posted? Who can know for sure.

I tell myself that I don't need Anyone (But the truth is no one needs Me) Another Jason Todd fic I haven't completed, posted two years ago for whumptober, it was the only day of whumptober I participated in, intended to be full of Captain Atom and Jason Todd interacting during the fall out of Bludhaven getting chemo'd but he doesn't show up in the first chapter and have you ever tried to read Infinite Crisis? It's a fucking mess. With this wip I have a close to justifiable excuse in that I refuse to write without knowing the canon, and reading through all the canon that's relevant is A Task.

The Monster in The Man A Merlin fic floating around my drafts, currently at a good bit over 5k wherein Merlin gets POSSESSED by an old enchantment gone mad. Written because a Merlin fic I read ended on a horror style cliffhanger and I couldn't handle it so I charged my way through the first 2k of a sequel and I've been adding to it ever since. Angst with a hopefully happy ending, if I ever frikking finish it.

The Dragon Lord In the aftermath of his father's death after Merlin inherits his father's dragon lord abilities he notices some minor changes to his interactions with his friends, the thing is that Merlin is a dragon lord and unusually what he hoards is people, things might just turn out the better for it.

Maelstrom A Naruto time travel fix it fic that wouldn't leave me alone until I got the first chapter out, ironically it has left me entirely alone since I finished the first chapter and I have no idea if inspiration for it will ever return or when that will be.

You Don't Know Anything Long long ago in a land of asks and a time of legend @paradise-runway sent me a fic request for "one where the other Bat boys find out the circumstances of Jason's death and resurrection and their reaction?" it has been lingering in my drafts haunting me ever since, someday, someday I shall fulfill what has been promised.

Of Curses and Covenants A longfic exploring the magical underbelly of Gotham's history, focuses on the intertwined relationship of the Wayne Family and the Zatara Family brought about by how often Waynes through the generations have ended up being cursed. I have an index of all the curses ready, the problem with this one is the plot and the story.

Vicki Finds a Bat (temporary title) Vicki Vale stumbles upon a still alive young adult Jason Todd at a wafflehouse on the way back from snooping into Cobblepot's latest criminal schemes. Convincing the young man to go back home to his loving father might prove more of a challenge than she thinks however. (will have a happy ending if I ever fucking finish it, for now it looms in my drafts like an unhappy gargoyle)

Hug Deficit A fic about Jason being touch starved and his family fixing it, hurt/comfort all the way, post resurrection.

Stephanie Brown and The Mansion of Man Pain Robin Era Steph, she and Alfred have pumpkin spice lattes together, it's their thing because I say it is. Includes, Alfred raised 5 boys counting Bruce, he's not sure how to handle a little girl and Bruce trying to dad plus Steph trying her best. Would be a lot easier to write if I was any good at comedy.

Another Time, Another Place Some twenty years or so after their death, Martha and Thomas Wayne appear in the middle of Wayne Manor's ground floor parlour room, the major problem with this? Not only are Bruce and Dick away, Alfred's on holiday in England! Which is why Jason as the eldest has been unwillingly nominated by his younger siblings to deal with the situation at hand. Martha and Thomas in this are heavily inspired by @unpretty's amazing portrayals in her fics with them.

- Queen Blackfire and the Lazarus Lord An au with Soulmate identifying marks: Jason Todd was having an okay time as de-facto leader of The Outlaws, a band of misfits and rebels with hearts of gold (or at least silver) saving the world the best they could and filling in the gaps the more straightforward heroes tended to miss while they were at it. Then he found out he was soulmates with the Alien Warrior Queen bent on declaring war on planet Earth if the Justice League didn't find her soulmate for her. Things with his friend, team mate and potential future sister in law Kori just got super awkward and the only good thing he can find about this situation is how angry (and protective? But maybe he's just imagining that) Bruce seems over the whole thing.

Side note: Kommand'r freaked out during the years Jason was 'dead' and accidentally brought peace to a huge chunk of space and intergalactic society via building up her empire after throwing herself into work to escape the grief.

- To Grasp The Hand of a Fox Naruto and Kurama travel back in time to save the world but unfortunately they land in the same moment that Kurama's just been put under a genjutsu by Madara Uchiha, Naruto has to make his way to Konoha and wake Kurama up before the villagers seal him away inside Mito. Can he save his friend in time to save them all?

Those Winter Sundays Mcu fic. Snapshots of Tony working hard for the avengers and no one noticing. Civil War Team Iron Man.

- Salvation Rides a Solar Wind Iron Man fic in a Science fiction / Western style fic where Tony's presence is described through the eyes of the aliens he helps. Au where the war with Thanos goes very differently. The type of fic that needs like 5 multi chapter fics in a single series to truly shine, hence why I will likely never finish it.

And We Break Away Again Jason goes back to Talia after Damian is brought back from the dead by Bruce. It's not that he begrudges his little brother his resurrection, the opposite, but he can't ignore what Bruce did to him by taking him to the magdala valley and he can't ignore what Bruce doing for Damian what he didn't do for him, (do for Dick, do for any of them besides the blood related one) means. So he decides to go back to the only person who ever seemed to understand why he wanted to avenge himself in the first place, the only person who seemed to agree that he had a right to be angry that he'd died at all, the only person he can trust to hold him together while he feels like he's falling apart that won't judge him against the heroic mold while they're at it. Not sure if this will be a oneshot or a series but we're going good Talia with this one regardless, DC's been ruining her lately but through fanfic all things are possible so fuck them.

Fan The Flames In the aftermath of a magical fire taking hold of the Daily Planet in Metropolis, Superman is missing, can Batman and the rest of the Justice League find their friend as well as the identity of the evil arsonist before Lex Luther does it first?

In a Whisper (In a Wish) Ichigo Kurosaki protects people, it's not just who he is, it's what he is, down to the core of his very soul. The only problem is, that a few weeks ago he sacrificed half his soul to protect the world. It aches inside where he knows something important used to be. When everyone he cares for is avoiding him and he's starting to feel more like a shadow than a person, that aches at him too and he can't help but wish, quietly, privately, painfully, to himself if no one else that things were different, that he wasn't so broken or so alone. But if wishes were fishes they'd fill a whole sea (just be careful not to whisper them within the hearing range of the Hōgyoku).

An Honest Conversation (Is A Bitter Thing To Crave) Jason kidnaps Bruce but things don't go as Bruce expects. First of all the reason Jason was able to kidnap him was because Stephanie of all people was his insider, why would she support someone Batman knows she's only met once. And second of all the reason he's been abducted - So that Jason can drug them both with the same substance. And when Bruce asks what he's doing this for Jason only responds, "We don't trust each other enough to have a truthful conversation otherwise" and refuses to say anything more while they wait for it to kick in. What will be revealed by this forced honest encounter on both sides? -

carrying the world on thin shoulders Midoriya Izuku deserves better from literally all the adults in his life so this is part whump part hurt comfort part fix it fic that sprawls out from time to time but it's pretty bad tbh, at some point I'll probably make it neater and give it something resembling a coherent plot. Hopefully. -

Trust Issues HP fic. Harry gets dosed with a potion that's supposed to reinforce your strongest survival instinct, the person who drugged him might've intended to be helpful but said potion happened to be at extra strength and he was given what would be a normal fix for the regular version but for this one is twice the recommended amount. Great.. The biggest problem about all this - beyond his internationally wanted godfather Sirius endangering himself by hiding out in a cave near Hogsmeade against all rational advice, his best friend Ron hating him, everyone in school besides his other best friend Hermione also hating him or avoiding him and the entire Goblet of Fire problem - is that he can't bring himself to trust anyone enough to tell them what's wrong.

Truth is Treason in the Empire of Lies A post marvel avengers story, thor pov probably, made because I like to dive into a pool of thor & loki sibling feels sometimes: Starts off as Thor regales his new human shield brothers with the story of his banishment and return to Asgard ending with Loki falling into the Void and the Avengers have some questions, questions Thor had not thought of, remarks on things that Thor doesn’t know how to explain away. After he goes to Loki’s cell and asks him some things he becomes more and more angry despite having no one he can punch > Gets drunk and criticises Sif and The Warriors Three after they try to calm him down > mention of Loki still being underage by Aesir standards during Thor 1 seeing as Thor was being crowned due to being of age in the movie > heavy inspiration drawn from queen regnant by peaceheather. “For while the Treason I detest, the Traitor I love still.” Currently just an outline.

Separation Split personality disorder Red Hood and Jason Todd, alternatively, Red Hood is a demon/parasite latched on to Jay. A lot of work necessary considering right now it’s currently just an idea inspired by a cool tumblr fanart.

A Trinity of Head Wounds The dcu trinity in the aftermath of a fight against some alien invaders (or something along those lines), whump, hurt/comfort, starts with them arguing, ends with them bleeding on each other in a friendship way, whole thing should take place in a single room on the watchtower and be a oneshot so it's gotta be a short and sweet one-two gut punch with the feelings which is difficuuult.

A Stark in The Stars an mcu fic, a really over complicated mcu fic, mostly because of Steve Roger's timeline fuckery, Tony's alive but he's not supposed to be, but so are a lot of people who were dead but aren't now you might say what with the snap and the blip. The thing is that Steve's timeline fuckery is making it so that everyone keeps getting confused between the two different timelines of events, obviously more confused the more that their characters were connected to the films/the events that were altered, the punchline of this particular fic though is that Tony's still alive and he's unaware of the timeline of events where he died. And as he's currently in space he's also unaware that everyone on Earth thinks he's dead (because why wouldn't they? he died in endgame after all). That makes this fic super tough to write because like ultimate unreliable narrator right here and not sure how to tie in the whole 'oh wait actually everyone on Earth thinks I'm dead because of the canon timelines' thing in or at what point of the story to do that at. The fuckery of it all gives me a headache. Plot is hard. Also all of that's basically background to the actual focus of most of the fic thus far which is Tony travelling around space in an Iron Man suit up until the point where it won't be background.

Magic Chained Merlin au. When you put magic restraining cuffs on Magic himself you don't just bind him you bind all magic the world over. It is therefore, infinitely lucky that Uther Pendragon never became aware of this fact.

A Child in The Cold bnha Midoriya deserves better also Recovery Girl and Aizawa have shit to answer for as far as I'm concerned.

#i have #so many #wiiiiiiiips #there's probably more hidden in various word docs but #blah #personal

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lazywriter7 · 5 years ago

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Cap-Ironman Rec Week - What-If Wednesday

It’s time to rec some Steve/Tony AUs for @cap-ironman‘s What If Wednesday! If you loved these stories half as much as I did, please shower the authors with kudos and comments <3

Underground by Margo_Kim:

Five years ago, Thor's Chitauri army decimated the Earth. Now what's left of humanity lives in bases under the Earth's surface, safe from the toxic atmosphere. Tony likes to think that humanity's adapted pretty well. After all, they have movie nights and dances; they're doing better than could be expected. But when he learns that the little world of safety and stability they've carved out is about to be slowly but surely destroyed, the New York Underground is left with only two options--fight or flight. Tony knows which one he wants. If only Steve weren't on the exact opposite side. Meanwhile, Natasha wants whatever option will save Clint, Pepper wants whatever option will save the base, Maria Hill wants whatever option will save everybody, and nobody's exactly sure who Loki's trying to save, but everyone's hoping it's more than just himself.

~ Apocalypse!AU. This fic reads like a movie, with all of the dramatic tension, an excellent ensemble cast, beautiful Steve/Tony moments and a breathtaking climax that’s everything you could ever want from a story like this. (With bonus phenomenal Loki moments, if that’s your kind of thing ;) )

ceaselessly into the past by shepherd:

Edge of Tomorrow/Live.Die.Repeat AU, following the movie. After earth is invaded by the Chitauri, Tony Stark is forcefully drafted into the military for a suicide mission. It ends up with him being inexplicably caught in a time loop that always seems to end with him dying horrifically. And, of course, the day was a Thursday- he had never gotten the hang of Thursdays.

~ Movie AUs/fusions are the Best Thing, especially if they’re half as well written as this one! I hadn’t watched the movie before reading the fic, and goddamn if it didn’t stun me with it’s excellent character-driven writing. Even after watching the movie, I can attest that none of it feels forced, but like Steve and Tony were meant to live, die and fall in love in this manner <3

Pulse and Beat series by sineala:

Cassino, Italy, December 1943. Special Agent Tony Stark, former Marvels adventurer, is sent to investigate a Cosmic Cube found by the Invaders -- and it's the perfect opportunity for him to rekindle his secret romance with Steve Rogers. But when Hydra attempts to steal the Cube, an inadvertent wish for help leads to the appearance of a Tony from the future of another world: Director Stark of SHIELD. This Tony is a man with a lot on his mind. He refuses to tell them anything about the future, but he seems to know much more than he should about Captain America. And something's happened that's clearly killing him inside, but he's not talking. When Director Stark's failed attempt to return home leads to the unexpected appearance of another visitor from his universe, all the lies come undone. Now there are two wars to fight, and the second one could ruin all of them.

~ If you’re thinking that no one needs to be told to read Sineala’s fics - well let me just say that this is one of my absolute favourite of their works and it hasn’t gotten nearly as much acclaim as it deserves! A fantastic canon-divergence Noir/616 crossover AU for the ages, with a sprinkling of 616 Civil War fix-it to really get you going.

strays by theappleppielifestyle:

Tony will take whatever he can get from Steve, which is pathetic, because he’s not even really friends with him.

Or, the highschool!AU where Pepper is Tony's much-needed therapist, Darcy is his parter in crime, Bruce needs to go through puberty, Clint shows up to school with bruises and Steve just wants everyone to get through this intact.

~ Highschool AUs are my secret Kryptonite - there’s just something about the emotional vulnerability of characters that age that get me sniffling. Again, no one needs to be told to read theappleppielifestyle‘s fics, but this is another one of those soft, sweet, poignant reads that deserves all of the attention in the world.

The Idiot Box by Margo_Kim:

Stephanie Rogers isn't happy to be in the 21st century, but she's even less thrilled to be on a team with Antonia Stark who seems as spoiled and self-centered as people come. She and Tony do their best to ignore each other, until their mutual insomnia causes them to bond over the new American pastime: late night television watching.

~ this author’s AU’s are just *chef’s kiss*. Featuring cis!female Steph and Tony, with some touching dynamics and laugh-out-loud moments, this is an MCU fic written pre-Avengers, which is a bit of a lovely rarity all by itself.

I’ve got you under my skin by sirona:

Five times Beijing 2008 Olympics Gold Medalist Tony Stark thinks it's going to be no more difficult a job to get ready for London 2012, than what he has just achieved. That is, of course, before Coach Fury comes to visit, and offers him a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be a part of something much bigger than himself. Swimming AU.

~ No AU reclist is complete without a Sports!AU :D The characters here read as authentic to their canon selves, even as they’re participating in competitive sports rather than beating up bad guys - Tony’s arc in particular is really heartwarming <3

Look here, look back, look ahead by marinarusalka:

September, 1941: Returning from a mission as Iron Man, Tony Stark crash-lands in the Carpathian Mountains and is rescued by Captain America. The two heroes team up to investigate Nazi activity at a mysterious castle. But Captain America is keeping secrets that could destroy their new partnership before it has a chance to begin.

~ Some lovely, lovely IM Noir canon divergence AU <3 It also comes bundled with identity porn, and Noir verse is just such a delightful verse to soak in that you all should really go read this at once.

And finally a self-rec or two-

Even Though We Know Love’s Landscape:

But at the core, he’s the same brand of poor little rich guy that dot the shadowed corners of every charity gala, every award function. Sure, maybe it comes in a ‘genius billionaire playboy philanthropist’ package… but his mettle is common iron. A drop of sea water, a dash of air, and he’d rust right through.

She, on the other hand, is made of better stuff.

In which Tony compares people to weird things, Steph recites poetry and two dorks fall in love.

~ AU with cis!female Steve, with all the team living in the Tower and a bunch of feels, fluff and poetry thrown in for good measure :D

Swing City:

“Of all the places you could go to on holiday, you had to pick the one where everything can possibly kill you.”

“I’m here on exchange, actually.” Steve returned primly. "And I’m pretty sure nothing can kill me in a gallery.”

“That’s the tragic bit. You’re in a gallery.” Sam’s tone was impressively flat, even for him. “You’re in Australia. Go hiking in the bush with the poisonous snakes. Surfing with the murderous jellyfish.”

Spoiler alert: Tony's in Australia too. And he's a swing dancer.

~ Is this a kind-of college!AU+Dancer!AU set in Australia, with Steve still as Cap? Yes, yes it is. I had a rollicking good time writing it, plus all of Steve’s Man Out of Time feels, so you’ll get no apologies from this quarter :D

#capimrecweek #stony #stevetony #fic recs #steve rogers #tony stark #mcu stony #marvel 616 #marvel noir #canon divergence #alternate universe

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years ago

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Hi Steph! Thanks for the fic recs because I'm never bored (get it?). Have you ever heard of the song "Wait" by Over October? I think that it will be a pretty good addition. Anyway, love ya and stay safe! (Sending virtual hugs)

youtube

Waiting on someone who'll never be yours It sounds stupid, bizarre, but you stay a little more Yes, you wait Oh, you wait

Imagination, fantasy, it's all in my head All the things we'd've said, this addiction won't end While I wait Oh, I wait

And, oh, this feeling just won't end

Take your time Hooo Take your time Hooo

Waiting on someone who'll never be yours It's like running in circles on unending floors But you wait Oh, you wait

Sitting here silently, nothing in store What is this even for, shaken up to the core But I'll wait Oh, I'll wait

Oh, I'm trapped in here again

Take your time Hooo Take your time Hooo

There's no turning back for me I'll be, I'll wait 'til the mountains cross the sea 'Til all the secrets are set free Meeting you there on bended knee

(Lyrics from LetsSingIt)

Hi Lovely!!!

I’m glad you’re enjoying the recs!! And I HAVEN’T heard this song before, but now I have, and I agree, it’s great for the playlist!! Thank you so much!!! <3 Love it!

🎶 LISTEN TO THE JOHNLOCK PLAYLIST ON [SPOTIFY] & [YOUTUBE] 🎶

#steph replies #song wait #artist over october #johnlock playlist #cassiopeia-elizabeth-black

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jj-lynn21 · 5 years ago

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You will remember things that we never said ch 3

Warning: flirting, fluff?, angst, jealousy

Dolly Trauma Songs: Fade into you (cover) Alastis: , Sky May Fahl , Stitch

ch 1, ch 2 ch 4 ch 5 ch 6 ch 7

Stephanie is in the art building after another class. She sees Axel in passing. She smiles. He nods stopping.

“Zeigeist is playing Thursday and Saturday night, you coming?” Axel asks.

Stephanie shrugs, “Most, probably.” She thinks, who in the hell says most, probably.

“Well, I hope so.” He darts into the bathroom.

Stephanie is flying high emotionally as she steps outside to the sunshiny crisp day. Her sunglasses come out of her hoodie pocket to cover her sensative eyes. Her legs feel weak the more she thinks about Axel hoping to see her. Of course, she does realize it is another five dollars at the door and that is how his band gets paid. But maybe its just a little more.

That evening she catches Bella as soon as she come in from class, “Hey, you want to go see Zeigeist Thursday and Saturday.”

“Since Dark Breed is also playing those shows, I’m in.” Bella stated drably not nearly as excited as Stephanie.

Stephanie is unfocused as she tries to read her history lesson. Axel had her core aching like she had never known without even touching her today. Barely talking to her really. She decided to work on his portrait. Her tongue stuck out the corner of her lips as she focused to get his eyes just right. She worked on it a few hours. She was lost in thought sitting on her bed trying to per-fect his look, which she knew was impossible really, when Bella knocked on her bedroom door.

“You going to your afternoon class today?” Bella had her arms crossed across her chest and legs crossed at the ankles as she leaned against the door jam. “I didn’t think you ever skipped.”

Stephanie looked up at her, glanced at her cellphone, “Oh fuck. I’m going to be late.” She tossed the picture aside. “Thanks Bella.”

“Watch getting so wrapped up in um,” Bella glances at the drawing. “Your studies.”

“Sure thing,” Stephanie runs out the door to class after grabbing her bag.

Stephanie made it to class a second before the professor walks in and started his discussion about sculptures in ancient Greece. She rushes to the closest seat in the back of the room sitting and grabbing a notebook to start taking notes.

Since she is in the back Axel sees her writing madly to catch up. He stops to take in how she looks in such a flustered state. Then he moves on just as she looks up to see him go past. She tries to shake off the thoughts in her mind so she can try to concentrate on taking notes.

After class Stephanie heads to the student union to grab coffee and dinner. As she walks in one door, Axel is walking out the other side. They don’t notice each other. She walks out the same door he did and heads to her next class eating and drinking in route.

She has two more classes before going back to her and Bella’s dorm for the evening. Stephanie and Axel pass each other many more times through the rest of the week without even realizing it most of the time. Or one sees the other without both parties seeing each other. Its fates cosmic joke perhaps.

Thursday rolls around. Stephanie finds herself to excited to really study. But she does finish Axel’s portrait for Monday. At eight-thirty that evening her and Bella walk to Hide & Seek for the show. Todd is taking money at the door. He waves her in at no change.

Todd whispers, “Just don’t tell anyone.”

Stephanie nods. She thinks, there goes the theory Axel wanted me here just for another five dollars through the door. She hears Drake, the drummer for Zeitgeist, warming up as her and Bella grab beers at the bar. She drags Bella to the front of the stage with her. Todd and Tyson join Drake warming up. Stephanie’s heart beats faster waiting for Axel to appear. Zeitgeist starts the music for their first song of the evening, Alastis. The Mosh pit circles each other. Bella and others watch the pit guarding Stephanie from becoming part of that scene as her big blue doe eyes fixate on Axel as he comes out and grabs the Mic. This is one of the band’s heaver songs.

“Now I got the time to watch you run(watch you), I can’t see what’s made you afraid, see I have my cynical side, save my fingers up, make you shake, go on, go on…COWARD!..”

The pit goes nuts. Stephanie screams along with others.

Axel continues, “ Now I got the time to think for us, sacrificing all the control, you do nothing passionately (As I like), such endorphins I need in soul, What I write, I say, what I write…I keep true, I keep it real, it real, What I write, I say…” He leans down with the Mic looking right at Stephanie. “Still I wanna go down and take you there.” He stands looking back out to the audience while the band rips into the songs heavy sounds as Stephanie’s core tightens and lets loose juices dampening her panties. “Got time to fuck me, but you got no time to fuck me. I can’t believe the faces that you think you fake. Why go out tonight, why stay home…I stay home.”

“I’m going to slow things down,” Axel said to the crowd. “You guys and I see a few chicks involved to, are fucking monsters in the pit. We don’t perform to many covers, but we’ve fucked around with this one over the week. It’s called Fade into You . He turns his back to the crowd of screaming fans, mumbles into the mic, “for Stephanie.”

Stephanie’s eyes widen. Bella shakes her head like this is the worst idea Axel ever had.

Axel starts singing with his back to the crowd. “I want to hold the hand inside you, I want to take a breath that's true, I look to you and I see nothing, I look to you to see the truth, You live your life, you go in shadows, You'll come apart and you'll go black, Some kind of night into your darkness, Colors your eyes with what's not there”

Stephanie’s eyes are closed as she rocks back and forth singing along. Axel turns around, “Fade into you, Strange you never knew, Fade into you, I think it's strange you never knew, A stranger's light comes on slowly, A stranger's heart without a home, You put your hands into your head, And then smiles cover your heart…”

Axel kneels in front of Stephanie. “Fade into you, Strange you never knew…” She opens her eyes seeing him there with his eyes closed singing. She closes her eyes again just feeling the moment through her entire body, “Fade into you, I think it's strange you never knew…”

He stands to finish the song. After Axel finishes, he disappears off the side of the stage. Stephanie wants to go check on him but there is no way for her to get through the sea of people. Todd puts his guitar and amp to the side off stage as Dark Breed setup for their set.

He grabs a few beers before making his way to Stephanie, “Hey, Steph.” She turns around to him. He hands her a beer. “Axel wanted to stay to hangout after the show, but he wasn’t feeling well so took off already. He wasn’t feeling well all day but didn’t want to disappoint you, so we still played.”

“Oh, it’s cool,” Stephanie acted like it didn’t faze her. “Is he going to be ok?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine to sing Saturday.” Todd informed her. “Oh, let me get your number so Axel can message you the address for the club we’re playing Saturday. It’s a dive bar in the middle of nowhere called Cigs.”

Todd takes a piece of paper and pen from his pocket. Stephanie writes her info on it.

“Take care of him tonight Todd,” She was concerned.

Todd chuckled, “Will do. You are to sweet for this scene. Be careful. That pits about to get ignited.”

Bella walks up between Stephanie and Todd. “Axel already ditch her?”

Todd ignored Bella’s comment. “I’ll catch you later Steph.”

“See you guys Saturday night,” Stephanie decided to ignore Bella’s comment also.

Ryan came over as the heavy metal sound of Dark Breed started to thunder. “Hey, girls. Can I get you a few more beers?”

Stephanie finished the one she had, “Sure Ryan, thanks.”

Bella nodded she wanted one or more also. She held up five fingers.

Somehow, he got through the crowd and back with a buck of beers. The three of them sucked them down as they jumped around to the pounding music. Stephanie and Bella were laughing as they held each other. Several big guys stood between them and the frantic chaos going on in the pit. At some point, Stephanie wasn’t sure how or why, she was holding Ryan’s shirt as he flung around into others in the pit.

The three of them walked back to the dorms together. Stephanie and Bella hanging on each other. Ryan’s hands in his pockets on the opposite side of Stephanie as Bella. He was watching her laugh and smiling.

“Did you see when Axel was actually in my face singing to me?” Stephanie’s body was on fire just thinking about it. Her eyes glossed over with intoxication.

“He should have never done that. “Bella spat on the ground disgusted how easily Stephanie was buying what Axel was selling.

“Well, he did so there is nothing you can do about it now.” Stephanie laughed.

Ryan looked away not wanting to hear yet another girl he liked fawn over Axel. He parted company with the girls as soon as he walked them safely to their dorm building. “I’ll catch you later.”

They both giggled, “Catch you later Ryan.”

Soon after they got in their bedroom, they crashed out cold. The sunlight streaming through Stephanie’s open curtain mid-afternoon hit her like sledgehammer. She cried out while pulling her hot pink comforter over her pounding head. She hears Bella stumbling around outside her door.

Stephanie can’t remember the last time she had a hangover this bad. She jumped up as her stomach lurched. The room was spinning. She held the wall as she got to the restroom to puke as quickly as she could. She almost didn’t make it. Bella came in with ginger ale and aspirin. She held Stephanie’s hair back.

When she got Stephanie tucked back in bed she turned to leave, “I’ll bring you a bagel.”

“And coffee,” Stephanie mumble. “Strong, sweet, coffee.”

Bella laughed, “Alright Steph.”

“I need to study,” Stephanie grumbled her eyes barely open.

“Rest one more hour,” Bella left.

Stephanie might have dozed back off for a half hour when her cellphone buzzed with a message. She looked at it and sat right up.

Axel:

What’s up Stephanie. Its Axel.

Stephanie:

Hey, Axel. How are you feeling today? Todd said you left sick last night.

Axel:

I’m fine. Ate something yesterday that didn’t agree with me.

Stephanie:

Glad you’re feeling better

Axel:

Thanks, have to get back to work but here is the address for Saturday.

1521 North outreach

Stephanie:

Thanks

Axel: ttyl

Stephanie gets up slowly. She grabs her rob to take in to put on after she gets a shower. Her head isn’t throbbing as much. Her stomach is only a little upset. After her hot shower washes what is left on her from last night, she drinks a few sips of a ginger ale. She opens one of her books to start studying.

Bella comes back with a bagel and coffee for Stephanie. “How you doing, babe?” She puts the coffee and bagel by Stephanie.

“I’m ok now, “She takes a nibble of the bagel and a gulp of coffee. “This should help wake me up more to study.”

“Good, I should study a little to.” Bella grabbed a book from her bag. “There is a horror movie starting tonight. We are going with Albre and Ryan, cool?”

“Yeah, sure.” She flips the full page of notes to the next empty page.

The evening rolls around and they walk to the local theater. Everyone is chatting along the way. Ryan is do his best to keep Stephanie laughing. After they grab some snacks Stephanie turns around and sees Axel a few steps away.

“Hi Axel,” She smiles at him.

He gives her no emotion in return which she senses is his normal response in most situations. Its one of the reasons she is fascinated with him. She can’t read him at all. Usually she reads people pretty well. “I’m here with Albre, Bella and Ryan.”

He just nods. Ryan offers his hand to shake. Axel almost breaks it as he stares him down. He turns away and goes in the theater with the guys he is there with. Ryan makes her laugh during an intense part of the movie. Axel glances at them seeing Ryan put his arm around her and Ryan’s hand sliding up her leg. He looks away fuming.

Stephanie drives Bella, Albre and Ryan to this show. The bar is at the end of a dark street. Only a field for parking around it. They are running a little late. Stephanie pulls everyone with her to the front where her eyes attack Axel. He focuses on everyone else in the audience as he starts performing even though he did see her out of the corner of his eye with Ryan, Albre and Bella around her.

“This is Sky May Fahl “ Axel screams. The crowd hoots and hollers. “God gave you legs, you got to find your way out, don’t call my name, I couldn’t care less, got to find your way out, This doesn’t fit your phony needs, got to find your way out, Another drink for everything, got to find your way out,NOW REALIZE I CARE, We could never be honest, we could never be have, like some father’s illusion, we don’t have to pretend. God gave you friends, some walked away, got to find your way out, Don’t call my name I couldn’t care less, got to find your way out. Suck up to them, suck up to me, got to find your way out, another drink for everything, got to find your way out. NOW REALIZE I CARE…We’ve come a long long way child, don’t want to miss you now…You went to Hell, you took it well, got to find your way out…don’t dissipate, don’t look to fade, got to find your way out, this boring day, this belly ache, got to find your way out, The sunrise remind you all of which way the sky will Fall…And I don’t care what you are…”

Axel throws the mic down making a loud distortion as he bolts off stage through the back.

Stephanie pushes her way through the crowd. She goes out the side door around the back of the building. Axel is banging his head against the wall not hard enough to bust his head open but hard enough to cause himself pain.

“What the Hell was that Axel,” Stephanie screamed her ears still ringing from the loud music. “Are you alright?”

“Get the fuck back inside Steph,” He stopped banging his head but stared at the wall. “You don’t really fucking care anyway.”

“What do you mean I don’t fucking care?” She didn’t have any idea why he was so angry.

“You can whore around with anyone you want,” He turned spitting the words at her. “But I don’t take sloppy seconds. I don’t share like that. So, go back in there with Ryan. I know you came with him.”

“What the fuck Axel?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “First I don’t know where you get off thinking I fucked Ryan and…”

“He had his hands all over you at the movies,” Axel glared at her. “He was making you laugh, and he was groping you and you fucking let him, you bitch.”

“Hold the fuck up Axel. I know what you thought you saw. Why the fuck were you watching anyway and stopped watching right before I grabbed his hand off my thigh and went to sit on the other side of my friends. And my second thing is I don’t want him; I want you, you asshole.” She leans against the wall, “You’re such a fucking dick.”

Axel leans his body onto hers against the wall as he takes her face in his hands making her look up at him. “You didn’t want him to touch you?”

Tears stream down her face, “No, I just want you to touch me.” Her lip quivers.

“I’m a fucking dick,” He leans down closer. “I’m sorry Stephanie, I’m such a jealous fucking dick.”

He kisses her deeply. Her hands ride along his waist.

“Hey, Axel,” Mick screams from the back entrance. “You going to finish your set or are we switching out?”

Axel rest his forehead on Stephanie’s both their eyes closed. “Go get in your spot babe. I need to do one more song for the masses. I’ll come get you when we are done.” He wipes her tears away before heading back inside, “I’m coming, startup Stitch. I got some shit to get out of my system.”

Stephanie composes herself the best she can before going inside.

Bella is waiting at the door. She notices Stephanie’s puffy red eye, “Are you alright baby girl?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She attempts a smile but doesn’t quite have a complete one in her yet. “Let’s go up front where I’m suppose to be for Axel.” She gets right where he can see her. He nods his approval before ripping into the song.

After, they sit on a sofa in the back corner. Stephanie lays on Axel’s shoulder. Most that go by nod a hello. Axel drinks a beer as he runs his hand through Stephanie’s wavy hair.

“Your such a pretty girl Stephanie,” He’s starting to slur his words a little.

“Thanks Axel,” She knows he was the one that said that first when others were calling her pretty.

Todd comes over and sits by Axel. “Everyone good back here?”

“Yeah, Man, we’re cool now.” He leans over and kisses Stephanie softly.

“You driving him home Todd,” She was concerned since Axel seemed to drunk to drive.

“Yeah, I got him Steph.” He took Axel’s beer. “Hey bud let’s take off. We both have normal jobs in the morning.”

Everyone filtered out of the club. Stephanie was the only one awake as she drove Bella, Albre and Ryan home.

#college life #rock life #rocker axel #axel cluney #au #fiction #fantasy #axel and stephanie #bill skarsgård smut #bill skarsgard

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puppetmaster13u · 11 months ago

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Mermay Special Prompt 4

Go on vacation, they said. We can watch Gotham, they said. Just go hang with and adjust to caring for kids, they said. Yeah, well no one said anything about getting cursed while at the vacation lake house, which okay, fine. But did it have to affect the kids too?

Bruce pressed his head in his hands, groaning in dismay as the children practically zoomed around the surrounding water with enthusiastic trills and squeals he could somehow understand. And through the air, to their increasing delight. Okay. Okay this is fine.

It wasn’t like he also somehow now had an extra child who looked like one at most that he had no clue as to where they came from. Said child wasn’t squirming in his arms, black scales and tiny fins akin to the setting of a sun twisting as they chirped. Definitely not.

Okay. Alright. He could figure this out. Probably…. hopefully…

#Prompts #DCxDP #DPxDC #SpaceMer Curse Au #De aged Dan #They’ll figure out how to shapeshift eventually #Why yes they can eventually turn into space cetaceans #Liminal Batfam #Bruce is a big star orca-thing #Dick is like an aurora dolphin #Dan himself is baby sun whale #Yes Dan & Duke are sun buddies #Clockwork looking at Battinson with several vigilante literal-children who he loves a lot:#Clockwork: *Yeets a Dan & a magic ‘gift’ at them*#Clockwork: Everything is as it should be :)#The kids are having fun & already planning mischief while Bruce is having the dial up sound in his head #Hopefully no time traveler tries to go after Baby Dan because Surprise: That is the youngest bat now #Damian: My baby brother to look up to me & be a minion you cannot have them >:|#Shadow Core Bruce- Killer Whale Inspired #Earth Core Barbara- Sperm Whale Inspired #Storm Core Dick- Striped Dolphin Inspired #Light Core Cass- Vaquita Inspired #Star Core Jason- Humpback Whale Inspired #Sea Core Steph- River Dolphin Inspired #Wind Core Tim- Beluga Whale Inspired #Sun Core Duke- Common Dolphin Inspired #Shadow Core Damian- Minke Whale #Sun Core Dan- Commerson’s Dolphin Inspired #but feel free to ingore

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archadianskies · 6 years ago

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jupiter grayscale

@dbhrarepairs Tuesday Day 2: Highschool/College AU / Unrequited; post-revolution not!Markus/Simon, RK900/Simon + Markus/Josh

It shouldn’t disappoint him, shouldn’t wound him so deeply since he expected this outcome but it does anyway, it does knife into him like a cold blade when he realises he is, yet again, not the first choice. He reasons he’s come to terms with it, this state of just being, just existing, just surviving the day to day. He survives the revolution, even sort of has a hand in it though all he really did was echo Markus’ decisions and try to keep the casualties as low as possible. It almost costs him his life at one point, and Simon concludes it would’ve been easier to just die. His life isn’t worth much, he should’ve just absorbed the role of the martyr and died for the cause. Anything would’ve been better than trudging along in this limbo where things continue to happen all around him, but not to him.

He’s being melodramatic, if he’s honest with himself, but he figures he’s earned that right whilst watching his close friend fall in love with the man he’s fallen in love with too.

Josh deserves this, he deserves to be loved by the leader of their people, he deserves Markus and Markus deserves him too. Josh is strong and eloquent and strives for the integration of their people with mankind. He is also soft and gentle and affectionate, caring and open with others. There’s no one in Jericho like Josh, and there’s no one in Jericho Simon is more closer to than Josh. The PJ500 even gave Simon his Detroit University sweater when Simon’s temperature regulator finally gave out. If there’s anyone who can match Markus’ headstrong determination, his poetic eloquence, his compassion and leadership, it’s Josh. Not Simon. No, there’s no way Simon can ever compare to Josh and the vast sea of knowledge about American history and civil rights in his head. It’s exactly what their people need, what Markus needs, to build a future together with the humans. They are a beautiful, harmonious match and it makes Simon ache right down to his core to see them together. Two beautiful beings so at peace with themselves, so confident in their conviction. And rather handsome, too. Very handsome.

Everything happens at breakneck speed; they’re alive, they’re granted the status of living beings, they’re given basic rights to a surname, to a minimum wage, to accommodation and privacy. The chaos keeps Simon busy, and he’s grateful for it because there’s hardly any time to wallow in the poisoned well of his thoughts. He stays as neutral as can be when they are at meetings, at press releases, at city council even when it claws him apart to see Markus and Josh leaning towards each other like a sunflower to the sun. They whisper to each other, they twine their fingers together beneath the table, they preen each other’s ties, lapels, they bump their brows fondly. They are in love and Simon loves and loathes it at the same time.

“I have been assigned as your security detail.” The RK900 is new in every sense of the word; the completed upgrade of Connor’s RK800 prototype model, the latest addition to the DPD workforce, the most recent deviant in his known circle.

“Because I’m the obsolete PL600?” Simon muses with a pinch of dark humor. The RK900 frowns.

“Because you are a leader, one of the Jericho Four, and therefore a target for anti-android groups.” He was only half joking, but the other android answers so sincerely it makes him laugh.

“And who is protecting Markus?”

“My...brother, Connor.” There’s only a slight stumble when he says it, the word a little awkward on his tongue. “He has a security team already set up inside. I am to escort you to the Town Hall from here.”

“Do you have a name?”

“My name is Ronan.” It’s also a little awkward on his tongue, like tasting something he’s never tasted before but knows he’ll grow to like. “It’s derived from the Japanese word ronin, meaning a masterless warrior.” It’s endearing, and Simon realises Ronan is a little like the child in the playground who is new to town and sees everyone playing with their friends and wants to belong too but just doesn’t know how. He reaches out and preens the collar of his smart jacket.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ronan.”

“I am...new. To everything. It is a lot to ask of a Jericho leader, but I wish to learn how to navigate the world.” Ronan speaks hesitantly, the way someone does when fearing they would be struck at any moment. Like a beaten dog. “It is confusing. I was programmed to be...something else. Something violent. But CyberLife had to deviate me as part of the agreement to release all remaining models.”

“And now you don’t have a clear purpose.” Simon surmises with a sad smile. “That’s the trouble with deviancy, Ronan. No one really has a clear guide but then again that’s just how it is for humans, too.”

The RK900 seems to deflate at that, visibly discouraged, and he looks so earnestly lost it makes Simon smile. The new kid in the playground. He seems to come to his senses and straightens his posture, tilting his head slightly down to compensate for their height difference.

“It is snowing heavily. Your temperature regulator is malfunctioning, you will need to wear adequate clothing to compensate.” Ronan’s shrugging out of his sharp tailored jacket and gently draping it around Simon’s shoulders. “We should leave now or else you will be late.”

Simon bursts out laughing, because the whole thing is just ridiculous isn’t it? A state of the art detective-slash-soldier being paired with a malfunctioning obsolete caretaker. Ronan blinks at him, confused by his outburst and Simon manages a smile.

“I’m sorry you’re the one stuck with me.”

“It’s an honour.” Ronan murmurs, as if it’s a confession he’s hesitant to voice. “The RK200 would not have had any deviants to lead if you hadn’t cared for them first.”

He hadn’t thought of it that way, and he stands there stunned as he processes his words.

“Our taxi will be arriving shortly.” Ronan gestures for him to follow, and Simon’s feet carry him out because his mind is still reeling. This whole time the world has been whizzing passed at breakneck speed and he’s been standing still, stagnant, trapped in a cycle of self-loathing and pity, and now the world’s taken a moment, put the future on pause as it hands him a gift. A new project, a new distraction.

They sit in the taxi, silent except for the news bulletin playing on the small screen. It’s a beautiful winter’s day, and last night’s snowfall is being dusted with a fresh layer like something out of a Hallmark movie. The vehicle is warm, Ronan discreetly turning on the heating when they’d first settled in and Simon’s not sure what to do. He’s used to fussing over people, not having people fuss over him.

“Where do you stay, when you’re not on active duty?”

“I have a small room at the precinct with a charging bed.” At the sight of Simon’s disturbed expression, he continues. “Sometimes if the situation calls for it I will stay in the guestroom at Detective Reed’s apartment.”

“You poor thing.” Simon commiserates and the corners of his mouth twitch up into a brief smile.

“He has two felines who are far better company.” Ronan holds out his hand and shows a holophoto of a pure black, and a fluffy tortoiseshell cat. “If it were not for them I would not stay there.”

Simon laughs at that and is delighted when Ronan chuckles softly too. He looks a little like Connor, but not too much; he’s a little leaner, a little sharper, more intimidating- but they smile the same. His eyes crinkle up like Connor’s, his mouth makes a wide pleasing shape. Simon lets himself fall in love a little. He can’t hurt himself any more than he already has, and Ronan is so far out of his league he figures it’s pretty safe to have a little crush.

*~*~*

He’s not exactly sure how he’s become the nominated liaison between Jericho and the DPD but he’s not altogether unhappy with the decision. As much as he loves being a caretaker, loving and nurturing the abandoned YK500s and helping them integrate with human children- it’s nice to be given a job interacting with adults. Josh also pointed out his visage helps put humans at ease; apparently a caucasian with blond hair and blue eyes seems more trustworthy than a very handsome professor and all around gentleman with dark skin but what would Simon know.

Carefully setting down the tray of TeaRiums on the reception desk, he plucks one out and hands it to Stephanie the sweet ST300 deviant.

“Good morning Steph.”

“A very good morning to you, Simon, thank you.” She giggles, accepting the sweet heated beverage. “Meeting’s been delayed a little as Captain Fowler is presently stuck in traffic but you’re welcome to sit and wait.”

“Thanks, I’ll head on in.” Tray back in his hands, he passes through the security gates and heads for a familiar set of desks. “Good morning Connor, this is for you.”

“Oh, thank you Simon.” The android detective breaks into a wide smile, eager and puppylike and endearing.

“And this one is for you, Ronan.” Simon smiles softly, offering the other tall cup.

“For me?” Ronan blinks in surprise as he accepts the drink, and Simon gathers the android is probably not used to being given anything in general. “Thank you. I’ve never had one of these before.”

Simon sits on the edge of his desk, the last cup in his hands. “Well now that we’re considered living beings like humans, capitalism has to find a way to profit from us too.” Connor snorts back a laugh, and Ronan barely manages to hide a growing smile as he takes a sip from his cup. Adorable, Simon thinks, he’s actually quite adorable.

*~*~*

It’s snowing heavily, certainly not the picturesque flurry of a Hallmark movie, and he really, really should not be outside. But he is because he’s stubborn and he hates appearing broken and weak when their people have suffered far worse. Simon grits his teeth and forces himself to bear it, to work through the sluggishness and cascade of errors and stiffness in his joints. He can do this one thing, this one damn thing, surely, and hand deliver important documents to the mayor and attend the meeting.

“You shouldn’t be outside, it is well below freezing.” Is the first thing Simon hears when he manages to open his eyes. Ronan is looking at him in alarm, reaching for his hands and cupping them in his. The other android is forcing his temperature to spike so Simon can leech his warmth and Simon hates himself a little bit more at how quickly his system soaks it up.

“What are you doing here Simon?”

“The mayor requested the signed documents be brought to his office and discussed with one of us Four.” Simon’s voice comes out slightly staticky, and he’d be mortified with embarrassment if he weren’t trying so damn hard just to stay functioning. “What are you doing here?”

“...The mayor informed the DPD about this meeting and requested adequate security.”

Simon manages a huff of a laugh, feeling ever more sorry for the both of them in this very moment. Ronan lets go of his hands in order to shrug off his rather handsome new trenchcoat, and he drapes the heavy navy wool garment around Simon’s shoulders like a warm blanket. He’s not sure where Ronan’s taking his satrorial cues from but he does appreciate how the android is always so impeccably groomed. The shelter of the foyer and the warmth from Ronan’s coat starts to compensate for Simon’s broken regulator, and his system finally starts to ease him away from emergency shutdown. It’s ridiculous. He’s ridiculous. How he’s still alive is a mystery to everyone including himself. So he laughs and it sounds a bit like a nervous crazy giggle, like scratchy white noise, but it feels good to get it out anyway.

“Were you expecting Josh?”

“Yes.” Ronan nods, frowning as Simon continues to giggle. “The nature of this meeting and the weather led me to assume it would be Josh.”

“He and Markus have to prepare for the White House trip.” The mild buzz of hysteria fades a little around the edges as he remembers how fondly they looked at each other, discussing their hopes for a day of sightseeing and precious, private relaxation away from their duties. “North has her hands full with her Eden Club outreach program so that left me.”

“You should have told me.” He sounds so disappointed Simon feels guilty. “I would have arranged for adequate transportation and escorted you here.”

“You really don’t have to worry about me-”

“But I do.” Ronan interjects firmly. “I do worry, Simon.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re one of Jericho’s leaders, you’re an important public figure, and-” he seems to catch himself, eyes widening slightly before he averts his gaze completely.

“And?”

“And you’re important to me.” He says it so quietly yet with such conviction, and Simon’s pretty sure this isn’t happening and he’s actually constructing this dream scenario as he’s dying somewhere outside in the snowstorm. “You’ve been endlessly patient with me and helped make sense of my deviancy. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, when you had to be neither of those things. I am here today, the way I am, because of your kindness and your patience.”

“Ronan...” Simon sighs and he’s exhausted, bone-tired as he leans forward and rests his brow against his shoulder. He doesn’t recognise who he is after the violence against them stopped. Who is he, now the revolution is over? All the iterations of him, the Burbank family caretaker Simon, the machine Simon, the Jericho caretaker Simon- they’re all previous chapters in a book that was meant to end but now has an excruciating unplanned epilogue.

“Don’t say you cannot believe such claims, because you spend your days giving our people hope.” Ronan chastises sternly. “And if you can’t force yourself to believe those claims, then at least believe me.”

He closes his eyes, turning his head so he’s resting his cheek against Ronan’s shoulder, and the other android hesitates briefly before wrapping his arms around him. When he continues, his voice is softer, his tone tinged with reverence.

“You are Simon of the Jericho Four, and Jericho would not be complete without you. Each of you bring different skills to the table, and yours is no less crucial than the others. Believe me, please.”

What more does he have to lose, really? He left his heart somewhere on that roof in Stratford Tower, or perhaps it’s still inside the rotting hull of the freighter full of ghosts now lying on the bottom of the canal because it’s certainly not in his own chest, or the chest of Markus Manfred.

“I’m not used to being treated kindly,” a pause, a forced laugh, “or even just being seen.”

“Neither am I.” Ronan murmurs, words smudged in Simon’s hair. “But I see you, Simon. And you see me.”

*~*~*

It’s a quiet thing, a soft steady thing that gradually manifests rather than something intense and explosive and dramatic consuming his life. It’s a small box of Ronan’s things, all his worldly possessions fitting in so small a container, sitting on the table in Simon’s apartment. It’s Ronan’s jackets hanging in his closet. It’s Ronan’s hands, with an average crush force strong enough to crumple a vehicle, brushing him so softly, featherlight and reverent as if the android longs to map him completely by touch alone. They kiss one unremarkable day in December when Ronan comes home and Simon’s finished his duties for the meantime. He gives him a box.

“I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? It’s still three weeks until Christmas.” Simon teases lightly, running his finger along the black cardboard.

“It isn’t for Christmas. It’s just a gift I want to give you.” He says matter of factly, the delivery so earnest it always makes Simon smile. He opens the box and it’s a biocomponent he doesn’t recognise.

“It’s a prototype.” Ronan explains hesitantly. “I asked a large favour of the Kamskis and they were surprisingly obliging.”

“The Kamskis?” Simon echoes in surprise. “This is a Kamski prototype?”

“It’s an upgraded thermal regulator.”

“Oh.” His vision blurs suddenly, and the emotions get stuck somewhere in his chest between his hearts. Plucking the component from the box, he turns it this way and that to admire it. There’s no serial number, just ‘SMN600’ branded along one of the curves. “Ronan I-” He trails off, finally meeting those stormy grey eyes and finding them glossy with emotion too. They lean in at the same time, their mouths meeting in a kiss that’s a little clumsy from nerves and buoyed with hopeful giddiness. When they part, Simon places the component in Ronan’s hands before stepping back and beginning to undress. He lays against the bed and Ronan crawls atop him as he pulls open his chest cavity. They don’t speak, they don’t dare to, as Simon reaches inside himself and pulls the broken component free. Ronan’s fingers are warm when they ease inside, ever careful, ever gentle as he slots the new component in its place. Their eyes meet again, and then their lips do a moment later and Ronan presses him down into the bed as Simon opens his mouth for more. He wants to drown in him, he wants him to wash clean the poisonous well of his thoughts and leave something pure in its wake. They kiss, again and again and again, and Simon doesn’t think of Markus anymore.

Ronan doesn’t return to the converted storage room at the precinct and Simon no longer comes home to an empty apartment. They build a life together, something just for them. It’s a quiet, soft, steady love that grows confidently, like the tired withered thorns blooming brightly after the snow melts.

#dbh simon #rk900 #dbh josh #dbh markus #detroit: become human #dbhrarepairs #dbhrarepairsweek #today's song is jupiter grayscale by gallant #annie writes: dbh

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piasgermany · 2 years ago

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[Album + live] dEUS kündigen neues Album "How To Replace It" an!

dEUS are back! Ihr neues Album "How To Replace It" erscheint am 17. Februar 2023 über [PIAS] Recordings! Die belgische Band hatte noch nie wirklich eine Philosophie. Und wollte vielleicht auch nie eine haben. Dennoch sind sie bestimmten Grundsätzen treu geblieben: “You don’t want to repeat yourself, but you have your style”, erzählt Tom Barman, Frontmann der Band, der auf dem Album seine bisher persönlichsten und rauesten Texte präsentiert. “You want to try new stuff and just react to whatever feels fresh at the time.” So ist es auch bei "How To Replace It", ihrem achten Studioalbum und dem ersten seit zehn Jahren: altbewährt, und doch neu und abwechslungsreich, melodisch, aber auch irgendwie trotzig schräg. „It’s not just the raw emotion speaking – there’s the hindsight and introspection that comes after all that. And room for forgiveness.”

Zehn Jahre scheinen eine sehr lange Zeit zu sein, aber wirklich weg waren dEUS nach "Following Sea" nie. So gab es monatelange Touren, zahlreiche Festivalauftritte und Jubiläen zu feiern – der Klassiker "The Ideal Crash" beispielsweise wurde 2019 20 Jahre alt. Vor acht Jahren erschien zuletzt die Compilation "Selected Songs 1994-2014". “Things always take longer than you think” ergänzt Barman. “But this was not a ten-year project.” Obwohl 2018 schon konkrete Pläne geschmiedet, Kalender geleert und Sessions gebucht wurden, dauerte es dann doch etwas länger, die zwölf Songs fertigzustellen.

Wahrscheinlich auch weil sich die Arbeitsweise der Band verändert hat. Bei den letzten beiden Platten waren die Jam-Sessions lang und strukturiert, fünf Tage die Woche, mehrere Stunden am Tag. "How To Replace It" hingegen entstand in kurzen und explosiven Jams. Mit viel klassischem und zeitaufwändigem dEUS-Finetuning danach. Alte Gewohnheiten ...

Achtundzwanzig Jahre nach ihrem Debütalbum sind dEUS nach wie vor Indie-Urgesteine, die immer noch kreativ rastlos sind und neugierig bleiben. Das zeigt auch die erste Albumsingle "Must Have Been New", die die Band bereits jetzt teilt. Ein kurzes Intro macht den Weg frei für einen selbstsicheren Tom Barman, mit lässigen Akustikgitarren, die durch verzerrte Licks und Percussions und Gospel-ähnliche Backing Vocals im Refrain veredelt werden. “I was playing the piano and I asked our drummer Steph to give me a waltz rhythm”, erinnert sich Gründungsmitglied und Multiinstrumentalist Klaas Janzoons. “I instantly came up with the verse and chorus chords, Tom added a middle eight and we had the core of the song.”

Tracklist "How To Replace It": 01. How To Replace It 02. Must Have Been New 03. Man Of The House 04. 1989 05. Faux Bamboo 06. Dream Is A Giver 07. Pirates 08. Simple Pleasures 09. Never Get You High 10. Cadillac 11. Love Breaks Down 12. Le Blues Polaire

Live: 20.03.23 Berlin – Huxleys Neue Welt 21.03.23 München – Backstage Werk 22.03.23 A-Wien – Arena 26.03.23 Köln – Bürgerhaus Stollwerck Booking: Live Nation

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#deus #how to replace it #pias recordings #album #video #live

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tarantula-hawk-wasp · 7 years ago

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Bat Paladin Chapter 4

voltron / batfam /dc comics crossover.

Chapter 1 link Chapter 2 chapter 3 link Shiro is Bruce Wayne’s adopted son and part of the batfam AU created by me (I was the anon) and @tchailla

word count : 6.2k (its a big boi)

A/N

Well it has been a Long Ass Time folks. All i can say is that pretty much every excuse in the book applies, a busy senior year of high school, writers block, doubts, changing fandoms, busy summer, busy college, etc. But, starting in Nov. I've been going to a 4 day a week writing group and that's really helping me dedicate time to this so I really think the next chapter will be only in a month or smth. That's about as much as I can promise. I will never let it go this long again.

The hand they gave him was so intimate a weapon.

A sword, though a close-quarters weapon that made him watch the light fade from his opponents’ eyes and left him splattered with blood, was at least impersonal. It was a detachable item that had transferred only vibrations up his arm and across his shoulder. He could at least physically cast off that brutal role of warrior at the end of every fight.

The arm was personal. Cutting through flesh, even with the hand alit, had a horrible sensation. There was a microsecond of resistance, before, like crushing a grape, the flesh gave and was sheared like paper. He could smell meat charring, feel the pulse of body systems, taste the rancid breath of last exhales.

The arm felt like an extension of himself in so many ways, but it was impossible to forget it was artificial. The Galra technology was extremely advanced, it had a smoother and greater range of motion than the joints on a real hand would, but the sensations were subtly different. It had temperature and pressure and texture sensors that were more than adequate. But flesh has a give to it. Even the most taut musculature has squishy skin over it and feels organic. The arm was solid and hard metal, there was no molding slightly to a surface, it either touched or it didn’t. Texture was another jarring change. Instead of the grooves of a fingerprint and the pad of a finger feeling out a surface, it was a staccato vibration of metal finger clipping a surface.

The reality of what the Galra had done to him settled in again with each fight. And with it came the reality of the life he was living.

Sometimes he considered just letting himself die. It would be absurdly easy to let himself lose a fight. Battling to a win was strenuous and unpleasant. If he so wished, he could just pick an opponent and weapon trajectory that would kill him so swiftly after he thudded to the sandy floor that he would not even have to hear the roar of the crowd.

But each time faced with that choice he did not pursue it. Each time he clung with desperate claws to life.

During a fight, his flesh arm had been cut - a messy snag of talons shearing out a groove of bicep. The pain was a dangerous distraction and Shiro had danced backwards, staggering away to gain distance and a moment’s respite.

He needed space and time to think.

Shiro sprinted across the sand and leaned against a pillar with his back to the focus of the action. Judging by the crowd and the grunts and wet slurps combined with suddens rips, the alien was occupied goring a fallen gladiator, another red tally in Shiro’s ledger of failure.

And he was at a crossroads. This wound could kill him. The bleeding was heavy and not slowing, and this fight was far from over. It was not the worst injury he had sustained, but usually the bloodiest gashes came in the desperate close attacks that ended a match and returned him to the callous care of the medical facilities. He needed something immediate to survive the rest of this fight.

A horrid idea struck him and he stared at his foreign, bloodstained palm.

He used the hand to shoddily cauterize the injury, the pain enough that the addition of searing and the stench of charred flesh did not outweigh the benefit of stopped blood flow. Using the Galra hand to save his life left a foul taste in his mouth.

But he did it regardless.

He told himself he was living for Earth, to warn them. For Solaan, whose eyes softened the few chances they had to meet gazes and would send reassuring nods in his direction. For the weaker prisoners, the untested, untried who had never held a weapon before and were sent into the arena to be slaughtered as blood fodder to rile up the crowd before the real fights.

He was not living for himself.

****

Despite being in a family and lifestyle of vigilantes, Shiro did not have a consistent codename. He’d tried out Nightjar, and had stuck with Starling for years, but none had truly clicked. His siblings ended up calling him variations of spaceman and space themed jokes. Nothing had become a second identity the way Batman was for Bruce or Oracle was for Barbara.

Until now. The whispers of “Champion” had spread after those early fights, echoing from cells in the corridors and jeered by opponents, and now it was notorious.

He had always understood the theoreticals behind creating a separate persona for vigilantism, but never before had he truly understood the inherent power in a dual identity. It was equal parts blessing and curse.

It helped in the arena, because it was not space cadet Shiro fighting, it was not brother or son Shiro fighting, it was not pilot Shiro, it was The Champion. And as The Champion he could be brutal, he could spill blood, he could growl in pain and rage and then slink back to his cell and weep as Shiro.

However there were times when he felt the liberation of his role as The Champion could be too consuming. It made it easier to use tactics with the intent to kill.

His technique had changed as he rose in the ranks, his opponents more and more often other vicious victors and now rarely helpless blood-fodder. And so he was employing lessons taught to him less by Bruce or Diana or Dinah, but more by Solaan.

His crash-course in alien anatomy had been shallow because of the sheer variety he might face. Solaan had instead drilled into him the strategy of going for the neck. They had explained that nearly all species have some form of head or brain encasement and targeting its attachment to the body is a safe bet for conquering any unknown alien.

Shiro had received this advice early in his days as a gladiator, but had not the stomach to implement it for many weeks.

And now, with his Galra hand that split keratin plates like butter, he could attack with deadly force.

He couldn’t help but keep up a count of the outcomes of his fights. Both the deaths he did not prevent, and the ones he caused. And as the blood spilled and numbers grew he could little help but notice that he was far beyond the realm of most criminals.

There were people serving life sentences who had snuffed far fewer flames than he, - cells in Arkham filled by those who had never used their own hand to end a life, - mug-shots of faces who had never felt the spray of blood from a torn jugular. He was on par with the monsters.

************

Shiro sat up from the microscope he had been looking into. Bruce had asked him to compare the weave and wear of two pieces of cloth from crime scenes and he needed to sit back and think about it.

Shiro could hear grunts from the out-of-site training floor where Cass and Jason were sparring and the rattle of Dick’s gymnastic equipment.

Tim and Steph were monopolizing an empty table with a sprawl of homework.

It was a good day in the cave. Shiro smiled as the thought came accompanied with new inspiration for examining fiber fraying and hunched back over, adjusting a lense.

“Hey English Question. Need an example of extended allusion or metaphor in something I read this semester.” Stephanie broke the silence. Shiro felt satisfied pride that she was comfortable to ask. When she had first switched to Gotham Academy on a Wayne Scholarship, she had pushed herself, determined not to let Bruce down and certain that meant independency. Actually, Bruce encouraged teamwork and consultation in the family.

A perk of most of them going through the same school, one with tenure and established curriculum meant that the chances of someone having previously done an assignment was high.

Shiro looked up from his microscope again.

“ Old Man and the Sea . Santiago is Jesus. He gets hand injuries, he makes ‘a noise similar to that of a man having nails driven through his hands’. At the end, he collapses on his bed and he’s lying with his hands out like a cross.” Shiro remembered doing that same outline.

“Thanks Captain Kirk” Steph called. Shiro groaned, anticipating the oncoming chorus.

“Actually, since he’s a pilot isn’t he more Sulu?” Dick commented helpfully, dropping down from his set of parallel bars and walking over, wiping sweat from his brow onto his faded Gotham Knights shirt.

Tim snorted. “He strikes me as more Travis Mayweather.”

Shiro smiled around the cave fondly. His eyes catching with Stephanie’s gaze. She was grinning at him, smile shining beneath a plain domino mask. Batman was the only one in the cave in full regalia - the rest just wore dominoes. Bruce didn’t want to risk a bare-face showing up in the background of a video call.

Stephanie faltered and in her place was Haggar, a feral smirk stretching her features. She was there just long enough for Shiro to register and then it was back to Steph, rolling her eyes and shoving Tim with her shoulder.

Shiro slowly pushed his chair back from the table, the screech of the base on the floor ringing louder than the rest of the sounds of the cave. He felt something cold and heavy settle in his core. He stood up, the banter continuing with Jason and Cass entering the main area, hair equally mussed and matching towels over their necks.

Shiro walked over to Haggar-Stephanie. She was flickering more frequently now. He looked around again. No one else seemed to be noticing this.

“Is Scarecrow in Arkham?” He asked cautiously. For once he prayed this was fear toxin. He needed to know now though, before he took action.

He only had experienced the effects once, in his youth, when the Batmobile had rolled into the cave where he was waiting, after watching an intense and dramatic showdown between Scarecrow and Batman and Robin and Nightwing that had culminated unsatisfactorily in Scarecrow’s escape.

He had been overwrought and ran to the returned trio, and embraced them in turn, clinging and unknowingly inhaling residual Fear Toxin.

Everyone had been exhausted and Shiro already upset enough that the preliminary signs went unnoted and he, and everyone else, had gone to bed.

They were woken later by him screaming, eyes open but unseeing, awake in a nightmare. Bruce had administered the antidote and stayed with him for the rest of the night.

That raw, unbridled terror at things that had seemed real was not something he wanted to re-experience, nor did he want to act on unfounded and strange visions. If this was a hallucination he did not want to hurt his family.

“He is. And his rehabilitation reports are showing progress.” Bruce answered from the Batcomputer. He was still facing Oracle. Good. Shiro didn’t want him watching.

Haggar was there long enough to let out a laugh and then it was back to Stephanie, smiling up at him. She looked trusting. He lit his arm up.

Shiro put his glowing Galra appendage through his little sister’s heart and it hurt in a way no weapon could.

Stephanie burst into a puff of mist with a brightness that momentarily disoriented Shiro from his stricken state.

The others were continuing with their conversation, ignoring the absence of Stephanie.

Now Dick was the one flickering to a shorter, white haired frame and then back to himself. Shiro strode towards him on steadier legs than he thought he ought to have.

“Do you want a sweaty hug, sweat-ie?” Dick said, laughing with arms spread, showing the mottled dark patches on his shirt. It flashed to Haggar with spread robes.

“Please no. Don’t do this.” Shiro muttered, and chopped Dick in half. He too burst out of existence.

Shiro swiveled around, watching each of the rest of the family, dreading any of the options of who could be next.

Jason sputtered-his eyes glowing yellow. He had a shit-eating grin. “Actually I think you're more Wesley.”

He was still laughing when Shiro dispersed him. It was perhaps worse that they did not react, merely acting as if everything was normal until they disappeared. Shiro was the only one shaking, the only one wracked with guilty choked sobs.

Shiro was in the middle of the triangle of Tim, Cass, and Bruce. A bolt of gratitude struck him that Alfred wasn’t present in this hellscape.

Cass, with her typical understated delivery, placed a hand on his chest.

“R2-D2.” She said decisively. He smiled. Even as another sister turned to Haggar and the hand resting on his pectoral gained sharp nails and dug into his flesh painfully.

After he did away with Cass, Tim was next. Shiro went through the motions quickly and with as little thought as possible. It pained him how practiced this was already becoming.

And then Bruce. Destroying even an image of Bruce would only drive home more solidly how far he had deviated from the principles his adoptive father had instilled in him.

Bruce was smiling at him - the little curve of his closed lips that could slip past the seriousness of the batcave and the cowl.

Shiro stared at his own eyes reflected in the lenses of the mask and hated himself. The face looking back could not be his own now, because the rip across his nose was missing and those eyes did not burn with the haunted exhaustion he ached with.

Shiro searched Bruce’s visage for an apology he did not deserve and with the destruction of Batman, the Batcave melted into darkness.

****

There was a heavy anticipation of pain and gore, a speculation of whether this would be a fight uphill against a savage opponent or a fight of restraint against some helpless victim.

He often forced himself to push past his lack of desire to watch the match before his - the inability to help a weak competitor despite being only meters away was intensely disheartening - but frequently he knew he was to fight the victor of a match and that strategically he must bring himself witness whatever bloodbath played out.

He was focusing on the hissing, bipedal bird-esque alien that was had an iridescent covering that was intermediary scales and feathers that ended in wickedly sharp points. It had used a serrated beak to rip the still-twitching circulatory system from the screaming form of its last opponent. Shiro hoped it would be defeated by whatever poor creature faced it before him, getting close enough to put his hand through the feather-scales would be difficult and he was not sure how thick they were, -If he would have to hack away to create an opening to even injure. The likelihood of him ending a fight of that kind anything close to unscathed was scant.

The figure that was shoved out onto the sand next was not some defenseless waif, nor was it some brawler. It was the six limbed hulking form of Solaan.

Shiro watched, wide-eyed, his parched eyes drinking in the sight of the friend he had been treated to only infrequent glimpses of in months. They looked little changed, fur perhaps a hint duller and thinner and something in their face held a deep weariness.

They rolled both sets of shoulders, limbering up their joints and sending ripples rustling through their purplish fur.

They stepped into the central area of the arena and evaluated the bird-like opponent with a calm resignation. Shiro knew Solaan’s methodology in trying to create an initial strategy.

With a sudden burst of motion the bird-alien darted and jabbed for Solaan’s thigh, Solaan pivoted, planting their lower arms and used their body as a lever to deliver a bucking kick that sent the alien staggering feet away.

The attack and dodge continued. Solaan was the bulkier and slower of the two, and they relied on their endurance and powerful blows to retaliate against the vicious speed. The bird was in constant motion, dodging and leaping like a ricocheting shuttlecock in a volley.

The fight came to a head with a graphic collision between the beak of the bird-alien and the broad palm of Solaan’s upper right hand.

Shiro’s gasp was matched by the crowd and the wet puncturing sound of the action. Everything froze for part of a moment and then Solaan flexed and raised the injured arm, heaving their opponent up, the beak still driven completely through their flesh.

The alien thrashed as its feet left the ground, and with its spindly taloned legs flashing and goring deep gouges across Solaan’s chest and thighs.

Shiro flinched with each strike. He was pressed as close to the force field as he dared, watching desperately.

Solaan stayed stoic and clamped a hand around one leg, the other foot’s talons scored first that wrist, and then they ripped into the other arm that came to seize the free leg. Solaan gripped the legs and with their remaining unoccupied hand, reached for the neck of the bird.

The beady eye of the alien widened and then its neck oscillated with a writhing yank, it pulled free its beak and drove it pointedly into one of Solaan’s eyes.

They bellowed, this injury finally snapping their control. Solaan’s limbs jerked spasmodically and with a lurch, their arms jolted in opposite directions and tore the legs off the bird-like alien.

Solaan, brownish coat now patchy with blood, had managed to end the fight in better condition than their hemorrhaging opponent.

The wave of relief that Shiro felt at their survival was quickly followed by a tsunami of dread.

He was to fight the victor of the match he had just witnessed. He was going to have to face Solaan.

He was churning with scenarios. Would Solaan and he fake some sham of a fight that ended with a mutual loss? Or would he sacrifice himself for Solaan or the other way around? He doubted that Solaan would engage him in true combat like a bonafide opponent. Could Solaan even survive long enough to put on a show satisfactory to the merciless voyeurs?

His gate was opened and his feet felt so heavy in the sand. The matching dull thuds of his heart and his steps carried him across the floor. The stadium was roaring with the fervor his appearance always provoked, but that was all a negligible rush in Shiro’s ears. The only sound he heard was the rasp of Solaan’s labored breaths.

Solaan tried to plant their arms and heave themself up to standing, but their limbs trembled with strain and nearly gave out with the attempt. So they stayed kneeling.

Shiro stood before Solaan, feeling odd and awful being the taller one. He reached out a gentle hand and trailed his fingertips tenderly over the soaking of blood. Solaan’s blood was morbidly beautiful. It disgusted and pained Shiro for what it was - the life of his friend pulsing out over his fingers - but it was fascinatingly different from most hemoglobin-based bloods. Solaan’s blood was a teal blue and shimmered with a golden metallic sheen. And it was painted over both of them.

Solaan shifted their weight and freed a hand from holding themself up and covered Shiro’s. Somehow, through the likely-crippling pain of their bleeding eye, through the damage to their body, through their fear, they managed to soften their gaze and smile at Shiro.

It was Shiro whose breath shuddered in a sob as if he were the one nearly gutted. Solaan slid Shiro’s prosthetic hand down to cup their chin and throat, and Shiro felt the rumble of their speech resonate up it.

“It is good to see you. And to see that you have not lost yourself to let the fight become easier.”

Shiro was momentarily taken aback, he expected an immediate addressal of the matter of the fight at hand.

“I… No, of course not.” He paused. There were so many things he suddenly needed to say. They were not living a situation with allowances for regrets or ignoring opportunities. “I didn’t want to let you down.”

Solaan met his honesty with equal gravity. “You could not have let me down.”

“I’ve tried to do as you said, to save people by getting them sent off and to only kill the-” His rush of words was interrupted.

“I know. I know and you have done well.” Solaan’s smile, still battling against the tightness of a grimace of pain, grew a little. Now they were interrupted.

The crowd had not been content to sit idle as they caught up. The baying for blood grew in fervor and suddenly Shiro noticed a Galra with a handheld control panel standing at one of the arena’s entrances and staring at him. The second Shiro made eye-contact with him, the Galra’s countenance turned smug and he manipulated something.

Shiro staggered, a shout leaving him, as his body was wracked with electric pain. It was not a lengthy sensation, he was left gasping after only a moment and a cold and clear voice ordered him to “Fight!”.

He tried to muster himself, staring at Solaan, but found he could only refuse.

He was shocked again, this time leaving him crouched in the sand with a hand planted to support himself. Now it was Solaan giving orders.

“Shiro, you have to do something. They’ll do that until you pass out or die and then I’ll face whomever comes after you.”

“What would you have me do?” Shiro didn’t like either option.

“You have to kill me.”

“NO!” That got Shiro up off the sand and back to his previous position before Solaan.

“I will not survive these wounds much longer. If not you, then the next competitor will kill me. And I would rather it was you than something brutal.” Solaan was so serious. Shiro was running his options through his mind and did not like any of them. He had no desire to see Solaan torn apart by someone else, but to kill them himself was a nightmarish prospect.

He placed his prosthetic hand to their throat, and they met his gaze with a composed readiness. Shiro lit his hand and found himself frozen in incapacity.

This was the scenario he was tortured with, this was his terror, putting his hand through a loved one. He had performed this act countless times in hallucinations to dozens of people, but he knew this was real. This was not Haggar pulling the strings this was his own volition.

The glow of his hand turned off and he dropped it limply.

“I can’t. Solaan I’m sorry but I can’t.” His voice sounded breathy and whiny to his own ears.

“I understand. I should not have asked.” Solaan did not sound accusative. Shiro felt even lower with that. Solaan had trusted him to do one basic thing he had done so many times before, he had killed so many except the one person who had actually wanted him to do it.

Inspiration struck him, because he could not just abandon Solaan to the blade of another. He had a third option.

He stood tall and stared around the crowd, garnering their attention and his own voice declaring an ultimatum with his own alit hand held to his throat. Either Solaan was taken to a work colony or he, the titular Champion, would never fight again.

It took a staredown of conviction and sheer stubbornness cultivated out of the Wayne household, but it apparently worked.

Solaan was removed from the arena with breath still in their chest. And Shiro was left with nothing of them but hopes and doubts.

For all he knew, all his supposed leverage of popularity was a sham and worthless and he was merely condemning Solaan to a future death behind shut doors. There was no guarantee, he had no rights and no real say on what they did.

But he had been an incapable coward when faced with the surer solution.

Were these benevolent acts of violence against people he loved his curse? How many times must he use the sharp side of a sword to save? And was it really more merciful than death? His knowledge of the work colonies was limited and fragmentary, combinations of hopeful imaginings, Galra propaganda, and threats from guards.

They might be simply worked to death, a slow and painful dragged out process. Or they could be kept alive and tortured in worse ways in colonies far from any regulatory supervision of the mainstream Empire.

The injuries he inflicted may just be the first in an endless onslaught of suffering.

*********

Shiro had little chance to see other prisoners outside of gladiator matches or passing by others surrounded by an equal number of sentry robots in the corridors. He was kept in a solitary cell, he was fed in that cell, and after his fights he was now often the only survivor being healed in the medical facilities. Or he was being taken to Haggar’s chamber of horrors or some other lab for experimentation. There was little socialization, and with Solaan gone, there was no one to seek out if he had been allowed in a crowd.

But anomalies in any surety could crop up, and Shiro was being escorted after an exhausting match, bruised and stumbling and desperate for the horizontal surface in his cell that was at least mostly safe to collapse on, when the screeching blare of an alarm went filled the corridor. Shiro had pieced together an observation of the severity scale of various Galra alarms and this one was blaring with importance. He had little else to do with his downtime. When he was too exhausted to exercise he could only listen to the ambient noise - the hydraulics of doors, the ringing clip of sentry steps, the occasional scream.

His escorts this time were a mix of flesh and metal. The two Galra guards exchanged glances over his head, looking through him as a ragged prisoner, a non-entity, and both shrugged and frowned. Rapidly, they growled orders to the two robots and those sprinted down the corridor, presumably towards the commotion.

Suddenly Shiro was grabbed around the bicep and hauled bodily around a corner and stopped in front of a closed cell door. It was a larger cell, like the one he had shared with Solaan and others in those early weeks.

The guard not holding him partially off the floor slapped her hand against the door control and as soon as it opened he was rudely tossed in. He stumbled as the door shut behind him and heard a muttered “That counts as temporarily securing any in-transit prisoners right?” between the guards.

His eyes adjusted to the darkened light and he was met with five sets of eyes. Three were species he had seen or fought before, two were tall vermiform beings that swayed hypnotically and twined around each other in an embrace. It would have been almost cute but for the fear in their eyes.

In fact, all of the beings in the room were ones he would have immediately decided to try to get sent to the labor colony if he faced them on the sand.

He turned to the most calm looking person in the room, a slender but humanoid being with brightly colored segments of color, and raised his hands in a peaceful, beseeching gesture. He was desperate to assure his harmlessness to all present as swiftly as possible.

He had little chance.

There was a movement behind him - he had not attentively tracked the motion of every person in the room and let one get behind him. He fought down his combat instincts, determined to show his friendly intent, to show that he was just another helpless prisoner trapped in this situation and thus akin to them, and was wholly unprepared for the sudden punching pain to the back of his lower left rib cage.

He gasped and dropped to his knees, breathing suddenly laborious, and groped behind himself, the motion of his shoulders pulling and twisting the painful flesh. He felt a rough edged piece of hard material, plastic or bone, it was difficult to say, that was wrapped in a layered strip of frayed and greasy fabric.

He left the weapon in his flesh, it was keeping at least some of the blood on this inside and he did not feel like contorting and cauterizing himself when he knew there was at least some chance the guards would return and take him to a proper facility with a far less painful repair tactic.

The other inhabitants of the cell, even the bold one who had stabbed him, were keeping their distance now, huddled against the walls. He little blamed them. They likely thought him some wounded animal, burning to lash out at anything that dared come close.

And he felt little better than that.

It was an agonizing wait after that. Shiro lying on the ground in a twisted pose that relieved the most pain from his injury and focusing on breathing. In the back of his mind there was a countdown going, there was only so long he dared wait for guards to return before he lost too much blood. Before that threshold he would have to take matters into his own hands and close the wound. But until then he would wait.

The guards, only the female the same as before, returned before he had to take measures of self preservation and collected him off the floor with a scoff of disgust. He was healed by the apathetic infirmary and with little ceremony returned to his cell for his usual solitary rumination.

He had been shanked. In prison. The absurdity of this being the prison cliche he got to experience, despite being in deep space, was not lost on him. He tried to focus on that near-amusement, trying to think about how much Jason would laugh at that, at the face Dick would have made, at how Keith would have scoffed. His brain kept slipping down the alternative train of thought.

This was painful evidence that he was no hero. He was seen as something to be feared and put down by a makeshift weapon by a prisoner his instinct was to save. He was not viewed as a savior or a Champion of these common folk. He was seen as the enemy, - the one to be struck down, - to be feared.

It rankled and rotted in his heart. Was this how superheroes whose populace disliked them felt? Or worse, was this how villians saw themselves? A hero working against the actual wishes of the people for some grander scheme that he thought he understood?

He had been shanked and it felt like a betrayal to all of the efforts he thought he had been making on behalf of the weaker.

********

The arena was becoming a preferable destination. This was not an opinion Shiro had ever anticipated harboring, but as his escort of uncaring Galra robot drones turned more and more often to the right instead of the left at the crossroads of the main corridor and led him away from the arena and towards either a scientist or Haggar’s workroom, he found himself wishing for the crowds and sand.

At least when he was fighting he had some facsimile of control. He may not be there by choice and his opponents were never of his own selection, but he picked which moment to lunge, where to strike, how to move and feel. It was the only time he felt truly alive and present in the moment.

Time in his lilac-lit cell droned in the monotony of echoed robotic footsteps clanking past in a clockwork rhythm broken only by the delivery of food. But in the arena it was a series of heartbeats pulsing fast and roaring with his blood and the crowd.

And there he picked which blows to give and take. And the pain, for there was often pain, was natural - in that it came from injury and was localized at a source rather than from some inflicted cruelty.

When he was strapped to a table, or forced into a tank of fluid, or scanned or prodded, he had no control. When they alit every nerve in his body at once, or worked through them systematically, the pain was the kind that writhed under his skin and churned his gut. A seemingly endless discomfort made worse by the callous interest of the scientists.

Time with Haggar was foul beyond that. When she was not using her powers to wrack his body with agony, she invaded his mind with distorted visions of his loved ones that grew more disturbing and detailed with each session.

Sometimes they were memories, nights in the Batcave with his siblings, or gatherings with the Justice League, or cadets he had grown up with in the Garrison, other times they were new creations. Being pitted against Solaan, or Bruce, or Dick, or Jason, or Keith or someone, in the arena and forced to fight desperately to the death.

The fights against Bruce were the worst.

Haggar’s Batman grew more and more lifelike and now vocalized scorn and disappointment just as often as it did gruff affection.

Lingering doubts about his actions were dragged into the light in the most painful way.

It was one thing to think on the darkest of nights about the way he was betraying nearly every doctrine his adoptive father had ever instilled a belief in. - But to hear him say it. To look into Bruce’s eyes, for now Batman was just as often a maskless Bruce Wayne in training clothes, and see disapproval, to see the disappointment, to see the resignation to failure, cut Shiro to the quick.

For Shiro was not breaking the “no killing” rule in some questionable accident. Irregardless of the utter lack of pleasure he took in killing, he deliberately went for lethal blows and no circumstantial justification he offered in pleading gasps from beseeching lips could undo the intent behind each bloody victory.

*******

It was not that escape had never occurred to Shiro, but rather that it had been a pipedream of impracticality. Even if he made it out of his cell or out of his bonds, he would still have to make it through a maze of patrolled corridors, and even if he made it that far, he was in space, which created an even greater complication of transportation.

But he was a scion of Batman, so despite his misgivings he was prepared to leap at any opportunity. And Ulaz was offering a chance that accounted for many of the potential problems Shiro had been most daunted by. He had mapped every corridor he had had the privilege of being forced down, and kept a mental count of steps and shift changes. He could handle navigating the corridors and there was a spacecraft waiting at the end.

The plan as soon as he was out of Galra range was to contact the Green Lantern Corps and through them one of the Earth Lanterns and the Justice League and his father. He was mentally prepared for complications in this, without Galra translation technology he was likely going to be reduced to pointing at something green and at a ring or his finger and hoping the Corps had widespread awareness in that area.

Instead, to his shock, he was met with familiar constellations and passing by planets he was intimately familiar with. He was in the Solar System. The Galra were in the Solar System. Relief was warring with panic in him. On the one hand, he could directly land on Earth, but on the other the Galra would see one of their own hijacked ships landing there.

He would have to hope he created enough of a warning for the Watchtower and other interplanetary defenses to prepare.

Some part of him was even hopeful that he would be hailed by the Watchtower or met halfway by J’onn or Superman.

Instead, he was greeted with nothing. He had little capacity to dwell on that rather concerning fact. His descent and landing were dangerous and difficult enough that it took much of his piloting expertise to make it survivable. He had spent a lot of time in simulators learning how to crash ships in ways that kept the cabin intact, but this was an unfamiliar ship and simulations could never quite capture the desperation of how badly he wanted to live.

He was rather proud of himself for landing not only on the same continent as the Garrison, but in the same desert as the headquarters. It would be hard for either the League or military to miss the smoke and flames of a crashing spaceship, he knew he would not be left waiting long. He smiled at the sandstone filling the viewport and gave into the unconsciousness his throbbing temple begged for.

**************

A/N So that's the end of Shiro's imprisonment. Ik this is a lot of build up without actual Batfam interaction, but the way I want to tell this story is going through how Shiro's outlook on the canon story would be different with a Batfam background. SO we've got next chapter which is like Bruce and Batfam hearing about shit on earth, then a chapter of Shiro with the Voltron squad and honestly like the actual Shiro and DC characters present interactions will happen in a few chapters but the like pacing of this fic is more rushed at the start because I want the exposition to build up to the like last 5 chapters which will be slower paced.

Honestly I had about 4 different voltron fic ideas, and bc i know myself and that I would only have the dedication to do one long fic, I combined them so like Solaan was created for a different story and I really liked them and they fill in some plot holes so.

ALso! Duke Thomas! introduced next chapter!

#the bat paladin #shiro #batfam #voltron #vld #my writing #guess who's back kids #this is shiro's lowpoint #nothing good happens in this chapter

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carey-pricemas · 8 years ago

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OT Hero- Kasperi Kapanen

Ok so I know Kappy was supposed to come yesterday, but smuts are hard cause like I don't want them to feel rushed nor do I want it to be the same thing over and over again so I'm really sorry this is coming out late! Anyway... for those staying: enjoy! For those skipping: Auston Matthews is up next!

Warning: cursing, smut, sex, smexy time

Anon Request: so uh.... kappy celebration smut????

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You couldn't believe it.

Your boyfriend, Kappy, had just scored the overtime game winner to tie the playoff series up against the Caps.

"(Y/N)!" Steph screamed. You nodded, jumping up and down excitedly as you screamed in excitement. The crowd around you was quiet as the Leafs celebrated the win. You were so proud of Kappy and later tonight at the hotel room, you were going to show him how excited you were.

"Drinks?" Molly asked. You nodded and followed the sea of red out of the Verizon Center, cheering as you passed by each Leafs fan that you saw along the way.

Tonight couldn't get much better than this.

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A shiver of excitement ran through you as you heard Kappy's key in the lock of the door. You were hoping he was going to be pleased with the surprise he was going to find.

"(Y/N) are you-" Kappy stopped dead in his tracks. "Holy shit." You were laying on your stomach on the hotel bed, legs kicking in the air as you waited completely naked. "(Y/N)."

"Figured the OT game winner should get a special surprise, no?" You sat up and Kappy's eyes were immediately drawn to your breasts, your nipples pebbling up into hard peaks at just his gaze. Kappy licked his lips as he dropped his bag to the side. "Cat got your tongue?" you teased. You stood and moved to stand in front of him, grasping the lapels of his suit jacket tightly in your hands.

"More like you got my tongue" he replied. You grinned wickedly.

"Not yet." You pulled yourself up as Kappy's head descended, your lips meeting in a fiery kiss. Kappy's hands moved to your ass, grasping it tightly and making you moan against his mouth. Your hands slid from his jacket to his shirt, deftly undoing the buttons as you continued to kiss him.

"Kneel baby" he whispered, pressing another kiss to your lips. You made a low whine in the back of your throat, but was quick to comply. As you knelt before him, Kappy worked his belt through the loops of his pants and tossed it aside. You reached up and slid the zipper down as he slid the button through the hole, opening his pants to you fully. You grasped both his pants and boxers and slid them down his thick thighs, letting the fabric pool at his feet. You licked your lips as you took in Kappy's hard member.

"Kiss the head" he demanded. You grasped his tool and stroked it once before bringing the head to your lips. You kissed it and darted your tongue out to lick the precum from his skin. "Fuck (Y/N). Now lick." You slowly slid your hand down his shaft, your tongue working behind it to lick all the way around his member, using the tip of your tongue to trace the thick vein on the underside. "Fuck" Kappy hissed, his hand diving into your hair and pulling. "Open up baby. I've got something to fill it with."

You opened your mouth and allowed Kappy to place his cock into your mouth. Your lips closed around his member and you sucked on the tip, flicking it with your tongue. Kappy groaned and tugged on your hair. You smiled and slid farther down his cock, bobbing your head over the skin a little at a time, nipping and licking and teasing until Kappy was a mess above you.

"Fuck" Kappy cursed, rocking his hips slowly. "Look me in the eye while you blow me." The words slid through your body and soaked your already wet core. "You like that huh?" Kappy asked as your eyes met. "God damn." You took his cock all the way in your mouth, the tip sliding into your throat for a moment before you backed off. "Good girl. Enough." You whined lowly once more as Kappy pulled your mouth away from his member.

"Kappy" you whined. He bent down and picked you up under the arms, tossing you on the bed. You squealed in surprise as Kappy chuckled. "What the hell?"

"I wanted you up there and here you are. On your hands and knees." Your body quivered in anticipation. Your clit was already throbbing and you knew that it wouldn't take long for either one of you tonight.

You flipped on to your hands and knees, waiting for Kappy to move into position. He knelt behind you, his finger running over your glistening slit, making you moan in pleasure. Kappy chuckled and continued the torture, pressing his thumb against your clit as he played with you. You whimpered and rocked your hips back.

"What do you want?"

"Fuck me please" you breathed. Kappy pulled his fingers from your sex. He grasped his member and lined it up with your core. You both let out moans as he filled you in one long thrust. Kappy held himself inside of you as you adjusted to his girth. Your muscles tightened around his member and you rocked back against him. Kappy pulled out slowly and paused, waiting for your protests to start before sliding back in.

"Kappy" you whined as he continued to torture you both.

"Tell me what you want" he said, stopping his motions. You rocked your hips back, but he grabbed them, keeping them still with his strength.

"Pull my hair. Fuck me like you mean it." Kappy chuckled. He pressed a kiss between your shoulder blades before reaching out and twisting his hand in your hair.

"Whatever you want" he said. You gasped as his grasp tightened and he slammed into you. Your head flew back in pleasure as he pounded into you over and over at a bruising pace, your hips rocking back to meet him thrust for thrust.

"Kappy" you cried out as your limb lock and muscles spasmed with the hardest orgasm you had experience rocked through you. This one wasn't one to build slowly. Instead it was fast sudden and took your breath away as Kappy's arms kept you in your position as his member throbbed within you with his own orgasm. As you both came down from the high, Kappy gently lowered you to the bed and spooned up behind you, wrapping you in his thick, strong arms. You traced random patterns on his skin as you caught your breath. "I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah?" You gathered enough energy to roll over so you were facing him.

"Tied up the series. The hero the Leafs needed." Kappy leaned down and kissed you gently.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

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Ok there we go! Let me know what you guys thought! Up next: Auston Matthews!

#kasperi kapanen #kappy #toronto maple leafs #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

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fourfeetup08 · 6 years ago

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As promised we are slowly getting caught up and sharing the changes we have been making over the past several months.

First up on the changes we are making to save weight – SLEEP SYSTEM and TENT. I am including the tent since we sleep inside of it and it is our heaviest stand alone item. Every little bit we can cut here adds up quickly and will have lasting impact not only on how we sleep, which means we can take on the next day on the trail more rested, it also means that we save our knees & back in the long run.

For this, I am only comparing our sleeping bags which we switched to quilts, our pillows, pads and tent. We will still each plan on taking our sleeping bag liners, Sea to Summit Extreame, when we share our full gear list and weights, these will be included.

Tent change!!

Welcome to our new home away from home on the trail! We set it up in our front yard, this is the ZPacks Duplex. Mark has plenty of head room in this Dyneema [formerly Cuben Fiber] tent. Dyneema is one of the strongest and lightest material on the planet, not only is it 15 times STRONGER than steel and Kevlar, it is also WATERPROOF! It is more expensive at around $32/yard verses about $22/yard on the highest end and $8/yd average on the lower end.

Weighing in at 22.5 oz in the bag including 10 stakes, it saves us considerable weight right off the get go.

The Duplex also uses 2 trekking poles (we used mine for the initial set up since they lock easily) and guidelines. It is not free standing, it can be made so, you have to order the parts from ZPacks. With sealed seams, it is a single walled marvel and is changing the backpacking world. You are hard to find a backpacker who has not heard of or know someone who does not have or know someone who has a Z-Pack tent it seems. It has a vestibule on either side so no crawling over each other in the middle of the night and it gives that outdoor space for packs and other gear we don’t want getting wet if and when it rains.

This is where except for our pillows which are not pictured here we changed from Slumberjack Camp Pillows to ExPed Air Pillows XL which come in at 3.6oz each.

Lets back to what we do have featured in the pictures. Starting with our sleeping pads.

Mark has opted for the most ultra light and newest technology for his, the ThermaRest NeoAir Uberlite in Regular Length is all of 9.7oz in the bag with an R-Value of 2.2. It packs down to 6 by 3.5 inches and is 20in wide by 72in long. Mark is also opting for weight savings and what he considers comfortable.

R-Value ratings are from 1.0 (minimally) to 9.5 (well insulated). You don’t need a super high R-Value unless you are in the snow or ice.

I need a bit more as far as far as how cold it is rated and height, so I went for the Q-Core SLX in Long – 17oz in the bag, which I don’t take, so it will be slightly less; for a side sleeper and someone who runs cold, this seemed to be my best option. Packing down to 4in by 8.5in in the stuff bag. Big Agnes, who makes the Q-Core SLX doesn’t use the typical R-Rating by degree rating which they rate this to 32F or 0C. It is 20in by 78in long, so more than long enough for someone who is almost 6′.

Next up, has to be one of my favorite things since we custom ordered them with our preferences.

We took the plunge and have decide to delve into the world of backpacking QUILTS compared to sleeping bags. Our Enlightened Equipment Revelation Custom Sleeping Quilts are our newest venture into lighter weight backpacking.

First, let me preface that, for us, it made sense to make the change not only for the sake of weight, in addition we did our research and knowing that the way you stay warm is with the loft of the fill in a sleeping bag or quilt and by laying on TOP of material and fill as with a traditional sleeping bag, a quilt eliminates almost all of that and is more like sleeping at home since you tuck it around you. Enlightened Equipment includes a few straps which help to secure your sleeping quilt to your sleeping pad to keep it from straying too far off during the night.

In the near future I will take you on a better tour of them and show how they attach to our sleeping pads.

We went back and forth between the Revelation and the Enigma, both of which have their advantages and disadvantages. In the end, we went with the Revelation given that it has a foot-box that we can undo completely and use the quilt as a regular quilt by the fire or for when it gets a bit warmer. The Enigma as a fulling enclosed foot-box, which cannot be opened for ventilation or so you can use it as a full open quilt. Something to consider if you make the jump into quilts as we have. Both are 850 DownTek filled Treated – how much fill in a given container – this is what gives you the warmth factor. After taking them on the trail we will give full reviews.

Lets look at Mark’s for a moment, his Navy and Graphite, EE Revelation is rated for 20F (-6.67C), is long and wide. Mark runs hot, and given that he is a side sleeper he wanted the extra width so make sure he was covered all the way; you can see hwo covered he is in the picture. 24.6oz according to EE on the bag they sent, so I will go with their numbers.

My Purple and Midnight Blue, EE Revelation is rated for 10F (-12.22C), so no cold feet for me while on the trail this time! I ordered mine in Long and Regular width, even though I am a side sleeper, I am not wide and after trying it out at home, I had plenty of room when wrapping it around me. Mine comes in at 26.9oz due to the higher temperature rating.

Now for what you all want to know, WHAT IS THE WEIGHT COMPARISON AND SAVINGS?!

For Mark ~

Sleeping Quilt/Bag

EE Revelation Custom – 20F Long/Wide, 24.6 vs NorthFace 20F Cats Meow Long, 39oz = 14.4oz SAVED

Sleeping Pillow

ExPed Air Pillow XL 3.6oz vs SlumberJack Camp Pillow 8oz = 4.4oz SAVED

Sleeping Pad

ThermaRest NeoAir UberLite Reg 9.7oz vs REI Flash Sleeping Pad Long 20oz = 10.3oz SAVED

TOTAL SAVINGS for MARK – 29.1 or 1.81lbs

For Steph ~

Sleeping Quilt/Bag

EE Revelation Custom 10F Long 26.9oz vs NorthFace 20F Cats Meow Long, 39oz = 12.1oz SAVED

Sleeping Pilow

ExPed Air Pillow XL 3.6oz vs SlumberJack Camp Pillow 8oz = 4.4oz SAVED

Sleeping Pad

Big Agnes Q-Core SLX Long 17oz vs REI Flash Sleeping Pad Long 20oz = 3oz SAVED

TOTAL SAVINGS for STEPH – 19.5oz or 1.22lbs

I didn’t save as much as Mark in this area, which is fine given that I run colder and need the bit of extra R-Value and temperature.

TENT

Z-Pack Duplex 22.5oz vs Eureka Pinnacle 2 – 96oz = 73.5oz SAVED

TOTAL SAVINGS – for Mark, Steph and the tent…

122.1oz = 7.63lbs SAVED!!

That is a HUGE difference. DISCLAIMER – the changes we have made, do run on the more expensive side, that’s part and parcel when you switch to lighter gear. Lighter materials do run more and are more durable as a rule.

I have added links to Zpacks duplex, Enlightened Equipment Revelation Custom Sleeping Quilts and the Dyneema sites for a mater of convenience. We are NOT affiliates and are linking to them, as a mater for sharing companies that we believe in. Zpacks and EE are both what we call cottage companies meaning that they are small companies and they take their time filling orders. You may wait a month or two for a tent or quilt since they make to order.

So with all this new gear, where are we headed this summer?? High Sierra Trail? Mount Whitney?

THAT answer is coming on WEDNESDAY of this week in a BONUS Post!!

Cutting Weight – Round 1 – Sleep System & Tent As promised we are slowly getting caught up and sharing the changes we have been making over the past several months.

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