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codynaomiswireart · 3 years

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Gauze in the Wound - Part 24

“‘In sterquiliniis invenitur’ – in filth it will be found. This is perhaps the prime ‘alchemical’ dictum. What you need most is always to be found where you least wish to look. … In rejecting our errors, we gain short-term security – but throw away our identity with the process that allows us to transcend our weaknesses and tolerate our painfully limited lives. …In participating in the process, the alchemists identified with the exploratory hero, and turned themselves unconsciously…into ‘that which redeems.’ This identification was complicated by the fact the the alchemist also considered himself as partaking of the state of matter – as belonging in the ‘state necessitating redemption.’ This basically meant that the alchemist viewed himself, at least in part, as occupying the same category as ‘matter’ (as well as being that which could become ‘gold,’ and which could aid in the transformation). … The alchemist was an unredeemed, suffering man, in search of an inexpressible ideal.”

~ Jordan Peterson, Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief

“‘But I am not your judge. We must go to your true judges now. I am to bring you there.’ ‘My judges?' ‘Why, yes, child. The gods have been accused by you. Now’s their turn.’ ‘I cannot hope for mercy.’ ‘Infinite hopes – and fears – may both be yours. Be sure that, whatever else you get, you will not get justice.’ ‘Are the gods not just?’ ‘Oh no, child. What would become of us if they were?’”

~ The Fox and Queen Oruel, Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis

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“Cursed short arms!” the un-man grumbled, reaching to pull himself up the rocky slope. What had begun as such a delight in wearing the boy’s form was now becoming annoying as he climbed his way up the mountain. While Zhan Tiri did have some of his additional strength to assist him, even that couldn’t make up for the smaller stature he now donned. But it would be worth it soon. Soon he would be back in his original body, and then he could really get to work!

“And as for the boy,” he thought aloud as he pulled himself up. “He’ll still be useful until I can get the actual Moonstone for myself. If he behaves, I might even let him join me as a disciple! Now wouldn’t that be nice – the Heir of Demanitus as my servant! Ha ha! Come to think of it, it’s been a long time since I’ve had any competent servants.”

The un-man scowled now, thinking of his previous pawns. “Curse them,” he spat, gripping another rock. “Inept fools. And Gothel! That traitorous, vain, sniveling coward! Stuck around just long enough to get her hands on the incantation, and then what did she do? She went and hoarded the Sundrop for herself! Fah! I should’ve figured. She was always the worst of my followers. Tromus may still be of some use I suppose. And Sugracha…Well…” the demon grinned wickedly. “She had her chance…and I’ve made use of what was left.”

Zhan Tiri gave another grunt of exertion as he finally reached the top of the rocky gorge he’d been scaling. The land had changed a bit since he’d last been there. The trails leading up to Janus Point had become rough and overgrown now. He could remember the days when it was well-worn from those who traveled there to engage in dark rituals. Now it was all a deserted wasteland – nearly forgotten like a bad dream by those living in the kingdom below.

“But not for long,” he thought as he adjusted the mirror strapped to his shoulders, continuing his hike. “Soon, their nightmare will rise again!”

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Varian blinked, his brain trying to catch up with what had just happened, like suddenly waking up from a dream. He felt like he couldn’t move. Part of him didn’t want to move. A part of him wanted all time to freeze here like this. He almost didn’t care if it might all be an illusion fed into his brain.

Xavier was here. Ruddiger was here. His friends were here. Xavier said it would be all right now.

But-

Varian nearly shoved Xavier away, as panic began to bubble up from the depths of his mind as his train of thought went from a standstill to rushing a million miles an hour.

“Wha-What are you doing here!?” Varian asked Xavier, looking up wide-eyed at the blacksmith, the boy’s fists clutching in desperation at the man’s shirt.

Xavier only smiled reassuringly at Varian. “It’s all right Varian. We figured it out. You’re going to be all right. We’ve come to get you out of here!”

Varian continued to stare at him, shaking his head in disbelief.

Noticing his apprentice’s demeanor, Xavier laid his hands on Varian’s shoulders, trying to steady him. “Easy Varian, easy. It’s all right. I’m here now. Really! You’re going to be ok.” Xavier then looked to study the vines that bound Varian’s wrists and ankles, holding one of them in his grasp as Ruddiger also gave them a sniff. The raccoon’s fur stood on end, and he hissed as he detected the dark magic pulsing within the glowing tendrils. Xavier’s brow furrowed, and he began reaching into one of his pockets.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” Varian asked.

“Don’t worry Varian,” Xavier said, pulling a small folding knife from his pocket. “I’ll cut you free, and then we can-” “NO!” Varian screamed, grabbing Xavier’s wrist to stop him before he could make the first incision. “No no! If-if you tamper with the vines, he might notice you’re here and-” Varian’s voice cut out, he swallowed hard, and Xavier could feel the boy clutch even tighter at the fabric of his shirt. “‘He?’” Xavier repeated, becoming still. “Who is ‘he’? Varian, what’s going on? Who did this to you?” But Varian’s expression began to take on a faraway look again, and Xavier could see Varian was struggling to breathe. “Z-…Zhan Tiri-” Varian just managed to choke out. And then, the boy began to hyperventilate, grabbing Xavier again, and shouting. “Wh-why are you here!? You need to stop him! You’re just wasting time with me! Why did you just let him-!? He could be…I-I can’t! Why did you come here!? No! No no no! He’s going to get away-!”

“Varian!”

Varian stopped shouting, but now only shook his head as he buried his face in his arms. “Varian!” Xavier tried again, trying to snap Varian out of whatever attack he was experiencing. But the boy only continued to quiver and breathe in quick, shallow breaths.

Just like that one day…

Xavier was unsure about what was going on, and Varian mentioning Zhan Tiri had not escaped him, but this much he knew – Varian needed help now, and he had to bring him back around before they could do anything else.

“Varian,” Xavier said again, this time in a much calmer tone, and giving Varian’s shoulders a comforting squeeze. “Varian, look at me, please.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment Xavier thought Varian wouldn’t comply. But soon enough, Varian managed to bring his face up to look Xavier in the eye, the boy’s expression utterly pained.

“It’s all right,” the blacksmith said. And again, like before, Varian opened his mouth to protest such a notion.

“N-no! No no, it’s not all right!” Varian cried, curling in on himself again. “Don’t lie to me! Can’t you see that we’re-!?” But Varian then felt himself being pulled into another hug, his mentor’s strong arms wrapped around him protectively. “Shh, it’s all right, Varian. It’s all right,” Xavier repeated again, as if the soul-crushing reality had no bearing on them in the present moment. Which of course was ridiculous, Varian thought. But in that moment, Xavier sounded so confident, that Varian almost believed him. “It’s all right.”

Xavier then pulled away again, steadying Varian’s shoulders. “I need you to breathe with me now, ok?” But Varian shook his head. “No! I can’t-! We- He’s going to-!” “Breathe in,” Xavier continued on, gently but insistently. When Varian didn’t respond at first, he tried again. “Breathe in…” Varian then also felt Ruddiger nuzzle into his side, and the little creature looked up at Varian with sad but encouraging eyes. “Please!” he seemed to be saying.

Finally, Varian felt his resistance start to give way, and though faltering at first, Varian managed to get in a slower inhale.

“Good,” Xavier said, a tone of relief entering his voice. “Now, breathe out…” And Varian did, though shakily. “Good. Again, breathe in… Hold… Breathe out…”

This went on for another few repetitions, and Varian did try to mirror what Xavier was telling him to do. But constantly Varian had thoughts flit in and out of his mind that caused his breath to hitch when they hit him. “We’re running out of time! I’m trapped here and I can’t get out! Why did Xavier come for me!? Zhan Tiri’s going to use me to come back, and it’s all my fault! It’s all my fault! It’s all my fault! It’s-”

“It’s all my fault…” Before Varian could think to stop himself, his voice betrayed his thoughts, and he could feel tears gathering at the corners of his eyes at his quivering words.

“No, it isn’t, Varian,” Xavier tried reassuringly. “C’mon, stay with me now. It’s going to be all right. I’m sure whatever’s going on, we can-”

But Varian shook his head. “No! It’s-it’s not going to be all right!” he cried, and through his sobs he began to tell Xavier everything; everything about Zhan Tiri slipping through the warp in time and space the other night, to meeting Zhan Tiri in the depths of his psyche, to how Zhan Tiri tricked him into believing he was really Lord Demanitus, and how – worst of all – Varian had believed him when he talked about them using the Moonstone’s power to go back in time and undo all of the bad things that had befallen Varian, and all the bad things that he himself had done.

Varian wanted to blame Zhan Tiri for all of this. He had been a liar, after all. Was it Varian’s fault that he had been deceived? Didn’t that make it better? Weren’t his motivations good in the end? That is, to go back and set things the way they should’ve been?

…But no. Varian knew the truth. Zhan Tiri wouldn’t have been able to entice Varian into his plans if Varian wasn’t already vulnerable to it. True, there were circumstances that were beyond his control. Perhaps it wasn’t all his fault. But some of it definitely was, and it also didn’t help that he had been so bitter towards everyone, driving away those who wanted to help him. If only he hadn’t been so desperate to run away from what had already been stamped into his history, perhaps he wouldn’t be in this even bigger mess now.

If he had only hung on instead of let go the other day when Rapunzel had appeared. Not that it was really her, probably. But if he didn’t give in to his anger…his hatred…

“…I’ve ruined everything…” was all Varian could say as he came to the end of his account, and he sat back with his shoulders drooped, and hands dropping from Xavier’s shirt into his own lap. Varian was so tired – physically and emotionally. He could feel the weight of all he had done pressing down on his already tired shoulders, and sling itself round his chest like lead-heavy snakes. And he was so useless now, too. Zhan Tiri had a hold of him. Even if he wanted to use his powers against Zhan Tiri now, the vines clinging to him would only channel it for Zhan Tiri’s own use. And in here, in this dark place, he had no access to alchemy or tools or anything else he might be able to fight back with.

“…You have to go.”

“What?” Xavier asked, clearly surprised by Varian’s words. Miserably, Varian looked up at Xavier through his bangs.

“You need to get out of here. Both of you.” Here Varian turned also to Ruddiger, who looked up at the boy with bewildered eyes. “Y-you’re just wasting time here. Zhan Tiri isn’t going to Old Corona. That was another lie to throw you off his plans. He’s going to Janus Point to-” Varian swallowed. “He’s…he’s going to try to use my magic to bring himself back – all the way back – where the veil is thin. You have to catch up to him before he can-”

“We’ve already tried, Varian.” “What?” Varian asked, looking at Xavier in astonishment.

Xavier frowned. “Varian, after Zhan Tiri made sure he got passed the guards, he used your magic to trap us here in Molson’s Grove with a great wall of black rocks. We can’t go anywhere.” “No…” Varian whispered, hugging himself. Yes, he had felt Zhan Tiri call upon his powers a couple of times earlier that evening, but he had no idea (and dreaded to think of) what the warlock had used them for. “That is,” Xavier said, once again setting his hands on Varian’s shoulders. “We can’t go anywhere without you. We need you to take down that wall, Varian.”

“B-but I can’t!” Varian shouted, grasping one of the vines in his hands and holding it up, as if Xavier needed a visual aid to get the situation through to him. “Look Xavier! I’m trapped here! And-and without my doppelgänger I won’t be able to get out!”

“That’s why Ruddiger is here,” Xavier explained, and Ruddiger immediately pricked up at the sound of his name. “The dark mirror has no affect on him, and he brought you back from the dream depths before. I have a hunch that he can also help to get you out of here, bypassing the need for a doppelgänger swap!”

Varian stared at Xavier, then at Ruddiger. Could Xavier be right? Could such a trick really work!?

“But first,” Xavier began again, reaching once more for his pocket knife.

“N-no!” Varian tried again to stop the blacksmith, grabbing at his wrist. “What if that makes him know you’re here!? What if he-?”

Varian then stopped, Xavier turning to look at him with an expression that Varian had never seen on the blacksmith before. Or, at least, not this intense. Varian had seen something similar to it when Xavier had been in battle before – a steeliness and determination that would make most anyone flinch if it were directed at them. But this time…

“We have to try, Varian. No matter what it takes, I won’t leave you here like this. I won’t let Zhan Tiri do this to you!”

Before Varian could say anything else to this, Xavier firmly but gently pried Varian’s hands from his wrist, and brought his hand down to lay the first strike on the eerie, glowing vines.

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Zhan Tiri staggered, feeling as if a dart had just suddenly been lodged into his chest. Had he stumbled into something in the dark and not seen it? Was there a hunter or a bandit nearby that had taken a shot at him?

But as Zhan Tiri looked down to examine where the pain came from, he found no arrow or dart sticking out of his avatar. Although, he did see beneath his clothing the dim glow of green, indicating that some sort of injury had been done to him, even if only a small one. “How in the-? Aaah!” the warlock cried, feeling the incision hit deeper. What was going on!?

With haste, the demon pressed his fingers against his temples, and focused his concentration along the vines that extended out his back and into the mirror. There, he of course saw the alchemist – disheveled, weak and distressed, as he should be – but he also saw-

“Aah!” the un-man cried again, a third blow nearly causing his legs to buckle from underneath him, and breaking his concentration for a second. “No,” he hissed to himself harshly. “Why that meddling old-!”

Thinking quickly, the un-man again sent his consciousness down the string of vines, and conjuring a few more from his back in the process. It may take a lot out of him in his current form, but he was too close now! He could not afford to lose this chance!

“I’ll make you pay for this,” the demon growled as he launched his counter-attack.

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Varian’s eyes widened in horror as Xavier delivered that first blow to the vine. As the steel of Xavier’s knife struck the glowing tendril, sparks spewed up from where he had managed to make an incision in the thick skin. However, Varian also noticed something else as Xavier braced himself for another blow. The knife had begun to glow green as well, and Varian managed to catch sight of what looked like steam rising from its handle. He could also see Xavier setting his teeth to keep himself from dropping the weapon as he began to feel the pain.

“NO!” Varian screamed, trying to catch Xavier’s wrist again to stop him. “Stop! Stop! It’s hurting you!”

But Xavier only responded with holding Varian back with his free arm, and bringing his hand down for another cut, grimacing as the knife glowed even brighter.

Varian remembered what Xavier had said – about when he had crushed Mila’s hand all those years ago. It was an injury that caused her to give up blacksmithing for good.

Was Xavier really about to-!?

“XAVIER, PLEASE! STOP!” Varian cried again, but Xavier brought the knife down for yet another strike, his hand itself now also starting to look green. If he kept this up for much longer, and if he tried to cut all of the vines this way…

In desperation, Varian tried to summon some of the magic inside of him. He had to try to do something to help Xavier before the man permanently crippled himself on his behalf. But as Varian felt the magic well up inside of him, he also felt it leave him, like water down a drain. Instead of the black rocks doing as Varian wanted, they sprang up to form a kind of cage around Xavier, with even more vines snaking their way between them to grab at the blacksmith, causing Xavier to drop his knife. Varian tried to make a lunge for the fallen blade, but was suddenly jerked back as the tendrils holding him dragged him away across the floor. Ruddiger then made his attempt for the knife, but flinched back as his snout got close to the heat rising from it. He then had to scurry and dodge as another vine tried a grab at him, and began chasing him around the chamber.

“You fools!” a voice boomed around the chamber, causing Varian to flinch at the sound of it, for Zhan Tiri of course would use his own voice. “Did you really think you could stop me now? I won’t go down so easily!”

Xavier looked frightened only for a moment as the situation sank in. But then, the man summoned again that steely determination from before, and resumed struggling against his bonds. This only caused Zhan Tiri to chuckle at the blacksmith’s futile efforts.

“Ah, so this is the best that Demanitus could leave behind for his vanguard, eh?” the demon’s voice said mockingly. “An old codger who barely understands the great mysteries he proports to love, and an impulsive child with a ruined life. If only you both weren’t so annoying, I could hardly have asked for better conditions!”

At these words, Xavier looked over at Varian, noticing that the boy had ceased struggling to get out of his own bonds, and now lay there limply on the floor again, like when Xavier first found him here.

“Varian!” Xavier shouted, but Varian didn’t appear to hear him. “Varian, don’t listen to him! Don’t give up!”

“Oh yes, that’s right old man,” Zhan Tiri interjected again, a smile in his voice. “Keep leading the boy on with false hopes, as usual.”

Xavier glared at the cursed mirror’s gateway.

“Honestly, do you really wish to tell the boy that he can come back from all this? From all he has done? Even if you were to get out of here, even if you were to defeat me, what would be left for him? He belongs to me now!”

“There’s still his father!” Xavier said. “We still have to free him!”

There was a long pause after this, only to be followed by another smiling tone from the demon as he said, “You really are cruel, aren’t you master blacksmith? Why can’t you just admit to the boy that his father must be dead now?”

Xavier couldn’t see Varian’s face from the way the boy was laying, but he did see Varian’s side seize up at these words, his breath stopping.

“You don’t know that!” Xavier retorted back.

“But if he were?” Zhan Tiri continued. “If he were dead, there would be no one left for the boy. He feels it himself – after all he’s done, no one else would be there for him. Nobody else would love him. It would be a shame to even associate with him on any level! Well, aside from his jailor of course. And if his father were somehow still alive, what would he say once he was free? He certainly wouldn’t be proud of the boy, now would he?”

At these words, Varian finally did move, but only to curl himself into a tight ball, the guilt of everything clearly crushing him into the ground. Ruddiger tried to get to him from where he had taken shelter in a basket in the corner, but the vine that had stalked him kept him at bay.

Xavier looked between the dark mirror and where Varian lay. Varian really was believing what the un-man was saying! Xavier knew that if Varian only thought about things for just a moment – really thought about them – all of this darkness would be dispelled. Of course Quirin really loved Varian! He had sacrificed himself for his son, after all! And as for the others? Varian may not realize it, but despite those out there who would write him off as hopeless and irredeemable, there were also those who were willing to give him another chance should he but ask for it and take it. But Xavier knew that doubts coupled with grief and guilt could be a terribly oppressive force. Life could not be expected to always be solved by purely rational means. Certainly not irrational, but sometimes merely thinking and rationalizing weren’t enough.

…Sometimes, you had to act.

“I would be there.”

Another pause followed Xavier’s words.

“What?” the demon asked, but Xavier ignored him.

“Varian,” Xavier called his name again, and Varian just managed to look up at him from his circle of torment.

“Varian, listen to me – you are still my apprentice. No matter what happens, you can always come home to me, all right? And-”

Now here Xavier said one of the last things that anyone in that room expected him to say, and if Varian had heard him say it months or even a few weeks ago, he would’ve been deeply offended by it. But as things were now…

“And I forgive you, Varian.”

Varian appeared to be thrown for a few full seconds, his brain also trying to catch up with what he just heard. “What?” the alchemist asked in a small voice.

“I forgive you, Varian,” Xavier repeated. “For any wrong you have done to me, it’s over now. It doesn’t need to cling to you anymore. You can let it go.”

Varian blinked at his mentor, then grimaced, shaking his head. “No! Y-you don’t mean that!”

“I do Varian.”

“No you don’t!” Varian almost screamed. “Stop lying to me! How could you just say things like that!?”

“Exactly!” Zhan Tiri chimed in. “He’s just saying whatever it takes to sway you into doing whatever he wants you to do! Especially with how he is now, how could anyone say that it’s over when he’s here like this?”

“Oh, you mean like this?” Xavier asked, his eyes scanning the vines and black rock cage around him as if they were somehow not that bad. “Oh Varian, I’ve been held by far worse chains and prisons than these.”

“…Wha-what are you talking about?” Varian asked hoarsely.

“Do you remember, Varian? When I told you about Mila? What I had done then, the guilt that I had felt – those were some of the worst things to have ever held me in bondage. Worse than the Saporians, and worse than even Zhan Tiri’s now. Granted,” Xavier said through gritted teeth as Zhan Tiri threateningly tightened his grip, “they are quite terrible. But while we may physically be held captive here, our hearts need not be, Varian. Mila set mine free, as well as her own, all those years ago. How could I not do the same for you?”

For a flickering moment, it looked like the light almost came back into Varian’s eyes. Could it be possible? Could he…could he really be forgiven for the things he’d done? Could he really, in another sense, “go back?”

But his thoughts were interrupted with another eery chuckle from the un-man. “Oh, my my my, what nonscensical fluff we are witnessing this evening.” The demon scoffed at Xavier. “Oh please, master blacksmith! Do you really mean to continue to insult the boy’s intelligence, or tempt him with pie-in-the-sky thinking? And even if it were true. If ‘your hearts could be free’ as you so pathetically claim, what good does that do, hmm? Hmm? Would the boy not still be in the same circumstances as he is now?”

A dreadful pause followed, and Varian lost all hope again. Of course Zhan Tiri was right. Even if in this moment Varian somehow believed Xavier’s words, he was still in the same situation as before. He was still imprisoned. He was still an outcast, a criminal, all but an orphan. Nothing would really change for him.

“So was Mila,” Xavier now continued, earning another surprised look up from Varian. “So was I. Granted, you could claim our circumstances were on a smaller scale, but the loss was still real. It affected both of our lives in a deep way. When Mila decided to forgive me, her outward circumstances did not change. She never-” Xavier swallowed the lump in his throat at the memory. “She never practiced her smithing craft again. But her willingness to forgive set her free from remaining trapped in that moment. She did something new instead. It wasn’t in her plans. Her loss wasn’t fair. But she made her choice. She chose for change on the inside, and that allowed for change on the outside. It changed her life, and it changed mine. She let go of her anger and bitterness, and was able to strive for good – to wish for another’s good, and for her own good, even in the given circumstances. She didn’t wait to feel good about me or about herself before she did that. And she- Gah! Mmph!”

Varian’s eyes widened in fright as Xavier’s mouth was suddenly gagged with more glowing green vines that sprouted up. “Ugh, that’s enough of that,” Zhan Tiri’s voice came again, trying to sound bored with the situation. …But Varian could tell by the urgency of Zhan Tiri’s action, that it was more than mere annoyance that prompted him just now. “You really do talk a lot for such an old man. I’m surprised you aren’t winded by now. But, no matter. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve wasted enough time with this nonsense, and the boy and I have important business to attend-”

“N-no.”

Varian could feel Xavier and Zhan Tiri’s attention turn to him as he weakly said the word.

“‘No?’” Zhan Tiri repeated mockingly. “No? What do you mean, no?”

Varian struggled to sit up, bracing himself up with his hands. “I…I said, ‘no.’ Y-you’re not going to use me for your plans. I refuse to- Aaah!” Varian crumpled, as he again felt the squeezing sensation around his heart, and his hair began to dimly glow.

“Have you forgotten, child?” the demon purred in his ear as Xavier watched on in horror. “I still have my foothold in your heart. You willingly gave it to me. You cannot refuse me now.”

“No!” Varian hissed through gritted teeth. “I-I can! I won’t let you!” “Won’t let me do what?” the un-man cried, now truly exasperated. “Won’t let me get revenge on those who wronged us both? Won’t let me make sure that the scales of justice are balanced in our favor? Would your father really want you to leave unpunished those whose acts led to his demise?”

…This was where the demon made his crucial mistake.

It was like when Varian faced the Seporian spy back in the forests of Equis; when he tried to use Varian’s father’s fate as a point of leverage.

“Dad…” Varian thought to himself, feeling his heart break all over again as he thought about him. He knew Quirin wouldn’t have wanted this. Whatever Varian may have thought of himself, his dad gave up everything to keep him alive. Even if Quirin himself were somehow still alive, he had no idea in the moment what was going to happen when he pushed Varian away from the explosion of amber. He didn’t know whether or not he would come through all right. And if the worst turned out to be true, would Varian let his father’s sacrifice for him be in vain? That is, would he lose sight of what was good and give up the real fight?

And what about Xavier? Whatever doubts Zhan Tiri had sown about the purity of the man’s intentions for Varian, the boy couldn’t deny that Xavier gave up a lot for him. Varian’s eyes landed briefly on the blacksmith’s burnt hand. That and hearing the emotion in the smithy’s voice at the idea of someone not being able to forge again, it was enough to let Varian know that Xavier was making all efforts short of giving up his own life as well to help him. Though, under the current circumstances, that opition may not be far off either.

…And Varian would not let that happen.

“No!” Varian cried again, and once more trying to summon his powers, the rocks around Xavier starting to glow in tandem with his hair. “I won’t be your puppet in your plans! I won’t listen to you any more! I won’t-”

Varian then gasped, feeling Zhan Tiri tighten his grip harder around him, and feeling his magic begin to siphon back out of him again while Xavier struggled to try to reach him. “No!” Varian though in desperation, and began to push back against the force pulling at him, the two now grappling together in his heart. “No! You won’t let you take me! I’ll fight you-!”

“You’re too late boy!” the voice now thundered in his mind, and repeated again, “Your father is dead! Your enemies have gotten away with it! And nobody is left to love you! You feel that anger, that bitterness, that grief in your heart! Let it out! Show them all! Embrace the power that you have been given!”

Varian could feel his heart being torn in two. He couldn’t keep this up. He was losing the fight. He couldn’t do this on his own!

“NO! PLEASE!” Varian found himself crying out, to anyone or anything that may be listening. “PLEASE! DAD! XAVIER! RUDDIGER! SOMEONE! HELP ME!”

At these words, Varian felt the tear in his heart rend all the way through. He gave a sharp cry, his eyes rolled to the back of head, and then he was enveloped in utter blackness.

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…..

……….

……

“Varian…”

Varian gasped, his eyes snapping open at the sound of his name. He expected when he opened his eyes to see the dark mirror chamber around him, and to feel his body aching from the tight vines and the grip of Zhan Tiri’s binding spell. But, to his utter astonishment, Varian felt and saw none of these things. Instead, he felt only shallow, cool water around him, and saw above him a sky ablaze with stars, giant planets, and the dancing stream of the Aurora Borealis.

“Wait…I’m back here!?” Varian thought in utter surprise, quickly sitting up and looking around him. Once again, he found himself on the smooth waters of the celestial plain from his dreams. Immediately, Varian thought to look for the white stag, or Ruddiger. Perhaps one of them was somehow here with him. But though Varian turned to look all around him, and strained his eyes to see as far as they could toward the distant horizon, no other figure was in sight on that vast, flat land.

“What do I do now?” Varian wondered aloud, remembering how difficult it was for him to go anywhere the last time. What was he supposed to do this time? Should he try to wake up? He needed a guide back to the waking world last time, but perhaps he could manage it now?

In any case, Varian knew had to try something. He had to try to get back!

Tentatively, Varian moved to push himself up onto his feet. As he stood, Varian tried to decide on which direction he should go. As he was pondering this, Varian suddenly caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. Varian’s head whipped round, fully expecting to see Ruddiger coming to his aid at last. But instead-

“Aaah!” Varian yelped, staggering backwards. What he saw was a face! A face floating a few yards away, looking at him. As Varian watched, the full figure of a person materialized in front of him, and other figures also came into view in the same manner, all glowing with silver light. Varian never gave much thought to ghosts, and for a moment he hoped that he was just seeing things. But when he dared to look away, then look again, blink, and rub his eyes, and the vision didn’t go away, he felt himself begin to panic. His courage failing him, Varian fled in the other direction away from the frightening apparitions. But to his horror, more figures began materializing there as well!

Varian then turned to his right, and began running, but he was soon blocked in again by more figures looming in out of thin air. All of them were facing towards him in a large circle, and soon Varian was completely hemmed in by the large crowd.

And what a large crowd it was indeed! There had to be dozens of them, perhaps hundreds! Men, women, and children. Who were they!? What was going on!?

One of them stepped forward to approach Varian, and out of reflex the boy held up his arms to shield himself. But alas, this only caused him further dread, for as Varian went through the motion, he saw a terrible phenomenon before him.

His arms were see-through! He was a ghost!

Varian stared in horror as his eyes followed his arms and he looked down at his body. Despite the ghost-like behavior of the figures only moments before, somehow the tables had turned. Or, perhaps, a readjusting of Varian’s senses had taken place. He now had the haunting idea that perhaps the figures were not the ghosts here, but he was. Did they materialize to his senses just now, or was it vice versa? Had they been in full existence there already, and he had been the one who materialized to their level of reality?

Before Varian could consider more this frightening prospect, he was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as he felt the touch of the figure that had stepped towards him. He had been so caught up in his fear that he hadn’t noticed the figure draw so near to him! The touch of the man who approached was firm, but warm, and as Varian’s eyes snapped up to look the person in the face, he was startled to find that…he actually recognized him! Though he had never seen him in person, Varian had seen a small portrait of him in his father’s belongings.

The man…looked like his grandfather!

“Wait, what!? No!” Varian thought to himself, his voice failing him to say anything as he stared agape at the man. “No no! It’s-it’s not possible! He can’t be-! He’s not even-!”

Another realization then hit Varian like a thunderclap, and he looked again at the other faces around him. In some he could see the resemblance to either of his parents. Others were total strangers to him. But this much he somehow knew – these were his past relations! All of them! In one way or another, they were related to him. He was seeing his family tree extending back years into the past! Varian had never met any of his relatives outside of his parents, and he hadn’t really given much thought about them in recent years. But now…?

Being an alchemist, Varian had heard of those who believed that they could manufacture human life in a lab. Get the right ingredients, have the right conditions, and boom! You’ve created life. Varian never really found such experiments appealing. He was more for the practical, applicable sciences like mechanics and chemistry. Sure, he’d dabbled a bit in biology (as he did to know how to create Ruddiger’s transformation serum), but otherwise he didn’t really give much thought into what went into making a person, artificial or otherwise.

But now, in seeing the legions of past relatives around him, Varian saw brief but poignant glimpses of all the blood, sweat and tears that had gone into assuring his existence throughout the centuries prior. All of the sacrifices that were made so that he could get the chance to walk the earth. All of that went into making him.

“Oh no-,” Varian found himself whimpering aloud, his voice finally returning to him if only for a moment, and he quickly pulled himself away from the figure of his grandfather. Varian buried his face in his hands, overwhelmed by the feeling of transparency that he now felt (both figuratively and literally). Did they know? Did they all know? And was this how it was to end for him? Was he dead, and this was his final judgment?? Surely, they all must be ashamed of him, and must be wondering if it was worth all the struggle to produce him at the present end of the family line. What a disgrace he must be to them.

“G-go away!” Varian cried as he felt another hand try to touch his shoulder. “Get back! L-leave me alone!”

“But you need help, dearie,” a feminie voice replied from somewhere in the crowd, and Varian flinched at the sound, for it wasn’t so unlike the sound of all the singing he had heard the other night; when he had heard the stars after his powers had awoken inside of him.

“N-no, I don’t!” Varian lied in a cracked voice, wishing for once that the dark, deep ocean underneath him would swallow him up, if only to get away from the unbearable eyes all watching him. But those around him didn’t seem at all fazed.

“Easy Varian, easy,” came a deep, masculine voice, sounding not so unlike the comforting voice of Xavier, and Varian again felt a gentle hand laid on his shoulder. Quivering, Varian finally dared to look up again, meeting several faces this time as the spirits crowded round him. “Don’t be afraid. You’re welcome here!”

Varian blinked, looking about him again. He was so very confused. “Wh-where are we? I don’t understand! Am I-?” Varian swallowed hard. “Am I dead?”

“No, Varian. You’re not dead.”

At the sound of this next voice, the crowd around Varian parted a little, allowing one of the figures to pass through to the front. Though Varian was surprised, as the figure that came forward was not a solid silver like the others around them, but appeared to be a translucent ghost like himself. The figure was hooded, and also carried a small, sleeping monkey upon its shoulder.

“Oh no,” Varian thought as the figure came closer, and he caught sight of the little primate companion. “We’re not going THAT far back in the family line, are we?”

Fortunately, it was not the little creature who addressed Varian, but the hooded figure as he pulled his cowl back and revealed his face. “It’s good to finally meet you, Varian,” he said, kneeling down so he was eye-level with the boy. “I only wish it could be under better circumstances.”

Varian’s eyes studied the man’s face. There seemed to be something of a resemblance to his father in the man’s features. Or, at least, in the features Varian could still see, for nearly half of the man’s face was covered with metal plating.

“Who are you?” Varian asked.

“I am Lord Demanitus,” the man replied. “And this,” here he indicated the monkey. “Is Vigor, my familiar. Do not worry Varian. We are here to help you.”

#tts #rta #fan fiction #gitw #gauze in the wound #varian #xavier the blacksmith #ruddiger #zhan tiri #lord demanitus #forgiveness

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tunesscribbles · 4 years

Text

Peter Maximoff x Reader Love Run

(to show that love's worth running to)

Peter's journey from a dumbass teen with thinly veiled commitment issues to a slightly less dumbass adult-ish person (with a range of other issues)

almost 7k words, gender neutral reader, title from ‘Not Yet / Love Run‘

tw: panic attack (begin and end marked with *)

Peter was standing in line with the rest of the X-Men while Mystique and Hank gave them the rundown for the next mission. He was fiddling with his hands behind his back. Today shaped up to become another one of his "Can't-Stay-Still-Even-If-He-Tried"-Days. He reached around Kurt's back to sneakily poke your side. This earned him a stifled squeal as well as a scalding look from Mystique. He retreated his hand quickly while mouthing an unapologetic "Sorry" at Mystique, who only rolled her eyes and turned around to show the team the location on the map. He noticed a movement on his right just in time to dodge your attempt to poke him back. You huffed silently. Peter had to bite the inside of his cheek in order not to grin as Mystique turned back towards them.

(Wait, that's not right. Best to tell a story from the beginning.)

------------------------------------------

He tried to smile, failed. "So like, no problem."

Peter can't hear his own thoughts. He doesn't recognize a word he is saying until it is too late and they already tumbled out of his mouth. For perhaps the first time in his young life, he feels as if the world is moving too fast and rushing by him instead of the other way around. He doesn't know how you two ended up like this. As far as his memories serve, this was just another friday afternoon, but something must have gone terribly wrong because you look like you are going to burst into tears any second now and all signs point to it being his fault.

"Hey, what – what's up with you?" He scrambled to get off of the couch and move over to where you were standing.

"What's up with me?", you repeated incredulously as you took a step back, away from him. Peter stopped his approach in an instand. "You want to know what's up with me, did you even listen to anything I said? Anything you said?", your voice grew louder as you went on and you pointed an accusing finger at him.

Peter threw up his arms in confusion. "Apparantly not!"

You shook your head in dejected disbelief. "I can't believe you-", whatever you wanted to say was interrupted by a choked sob. You were struggling to keep the tears from flowing.

He wants to say something – anything, but hadn't he said enough already? His tongue seems to be stuck to the roof of his mouth, so talking is out of the question anyway.

"You know what the worst thing about this is?", a shaky laugh escaped your throat. "Deep down I knew. I fucking knew there was something off! I just didn't want to believe it, so I didn't ask. God, I should've fucking asked!" You slapped your forehead.

Peter swallowed even though his mouth felt dry. He lifted his hand, as if to touch your shoulder but he dropped it again. "[Name], don't-"

"Shut up! You are such a selfish bastard. I-I don't need this. Goodbye Peter." You turned on your heel and rushed to exit the basement.

"Wait, hold on-"

"Don't worry about it, Peter. No problem, right?" The door slammed shut.

If Peter had known back then that this was the last time he would see your face for years, he probably would have gone after you. (Who is he kidding, he wouldn't have, not at the time.)

(Not the start either, keep going.)

------------------------------------------

"Hey, I like your hair!" His head whipped around to face whoever was talking to him and to see whether they were mocking him or not. They seemed honest enough.

"Thanks, grew it myself." He cracked a smile, which you returned, albeit a bit unsurely.

Might as well. "The name's Peter Maximoff, you are?"

"I'm [Name]."

"Pleased to meet ya." Peter extended his hand towards you but pulled it away right before you could grab it.

(Okay - now fast forward.)

------------------------------------------

"The hell are you doing up here?", you asked after you had to poke your head through the opened skylight to find Peter sitting on the roof.

"I could ask you the same thing." He looked around to find the source of your voice.

"You can't actually.", he heard you remark and rolled his eyes. "Because I am not currently 'up here'." When he looked back over to you, your head had disappeared but he could hear you move around inside.

"Alright then, let me rephrase that: The hell are you doing in there?"

"Got myself a chair.", you replied and reemerged from the window, now more than a head and neck. Peter couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. You grinned as if you were proud of your achievement. He suddenly felt rather warm on his spot on the roof and the afternoon sun had nothing to do with it.

"Do you ever get the sudden urge to sit on your roof?", he asked to answer your initial question and following that opened his arms as if to add: 'So here I am.'

You nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I get that sometimes, but then I remember I don't want to break my neck falling down and die."

"It's not that dangerous, come on!" He waved at you to join him. You did not look very convinced, so he added: "You're not gonna die, don't worry. Even if you should fall, I'll catch you!"

You pondered his proposition for a moment before giving in with a sigh.

He helped you climb up and you talked for a while. During the conversation you must have shifted closer because now your shoulders were pressed together. Should both of you turn to look at each other at the same time, Peter thought, the tips of your noses might just meet in the middle. He was drumming his fingers on the roof tile until you stopped him by taking his hand into yours.

He looked down at your joint hands. Peter could not remember when this thing between you had begun. It was not like he didn't like you, he did (probably more than he realised at the time), but he hoped you knew this was all just fun and goofs. He never meant to lead you on or anything. It was simply second nature, almost, for him to poke and prod when he was curious, to see if he could, to mess around with things (until they break, one might add looking back).

You gave his hand a playful squeeze and he forgot about his worries instantly. Peter grinned, just lopsided enough to convey a hint of mischief. Then with one quick motion he positioned himself so that he went from sitting next to you to leaning over you with one hand on either side of your body.

"What are you grinning at?" Was that a bit of a blush crawling up on your cheeks?

"You, obviously.", he replied in a hushed voice and grinned just a bit wider before leaning further down.

He felt you relax underneath him. Instead of rushing in to steal the kiss, Peter paused as his lips were millimeters away from yours. He found himself drawing out the drumroll, something he usually never did, being way too impatient. Warm breath ghosted over his lips; his heart was beating excitedly. He wanted to drag the moment out a little longer, enjoy the soaring feeling in his chest for another second (like the guitar riff building up to the big reprise).

Suddenly Peter's foot slipped, his eyes went wide, his body slid downwards – until he was caught by your hand on his arm. He let out a breathless whistle.

"We should go back in-"

- "Let's go back inside.", he agreed quickly. "Always preferred my basement anyway."

" 'I'll catch you', my ass!", you muttered as you cautiously made your way back to the window.

(Blah, blah, blah – Alright, jump further.)

------------------------------------------

Peter stopped dead in this tracks when he saw you at Xavier's for the first time. Well, that's one face he expected never to see again, especially not in this place.

"Hey", if he sounded breathless, he could blame it on running.

"Hey", you replied, equally surprised to see Peter again after all these years.

An awkward silence ensued. He had no clue what to say. Was he allowed to ask why you were here? Were there rules for social interactions with your "not-really-but-kind-of"-Ex? (Also, wasn't he supposed to be doing something else?)

"So, what are you up to?", you finally asked, just as he blurted out: "What are you doing here?"

This was going well. "I, uh, I live here. Well, mostly I work here, but I guess I do live here, too.", he answered first.

"You're a teacher?", you seemed surprised. Fair enough, he was, too, some days.

"Part time, yeah." He shuffled his feet.

"Ah, that's nice."

"It is. What are you doing here? I haven't seen you- " (in years) "-around."

"Oh no, I just got here. I'm actually here to talk to the Professor, I have a meeting with him, sort of." For a moment he thought you were going to elaborate but it seemed as if this was all the information he was going to get.

"His office is down the hall, door should be open, so it's hard to miss."

"Thanks.", with that you left him standing in the hallway.

Cool. Coolcoolcoolcool This was a thing now. He turned around to look for you, shook his head and went on to do what he was supposed to, albeit mildly distracted.

(Actually, this might be were it really starts.

Another start to the same story.)

------------------------------------------

Getting to know each other again after a decade was...weird. Peter felt like he should know about things that are complete news to him. (How you were a mutant, too, for example, albeit a late bloomer.) He could still see your teenage self when he looked at you but then the longer he looked, the more you seemed like a stranger in a nostalgic disguise.

At first he tried to avoid you and he could tell you tried the same. However, no matter how fast he could run, the mansion was only so big and there were only so many other people inside it. Also, dodging Ororo's attempts to get you two to talk had become increasingly difficult at some point. So now you were on speaking terms once more and kind of friends? He was still unsure about the last part.

"You've always been reckless, but now I'm starting to think you don't have any sense of self-preservation at all.", you said after Peter told you the story of Apocalypse. The world outside the kitchen window was dark. It had been raining all day and it seemed as if the storm would continue well into the night. Training had been rough, apparently he was not the only one unable to sleep. Somehow coincidentally meeting in the kitchen had turned into exchanging life stories. (Peter managed to ignore the stabbing ache of familiarity for the most part.)

"I'll have you know, I have by far the most sense of self-preservation out of the X-Men, apart from Ororo maybe." He nursed his cup of instant hot chocolate, as if that somehow proved his point.

"Sure, Peter.", you replied and rolled your eyes.

"Hey, I did a lot of maturing in the meantime! Aged like a fine wine in my mom's basement for ten years." Like that was something to be proud of.

You squinted your eyes at him. "You spent all that time in your basement?"

Yes "Nah, just-", he shrugged, "figuratively speaking."

You nodded, not entirely convinced, and took a sip from your own cup. Your face scrunched up. "The instant stuff sucks."

"Slander!," He feigned offence. "Don't you dare! I was raised on-"

"-Instant packages and Twinkies, I know.", you finished the familiar statement with a smile. For a moment it felt like no time had passed at all since late nights at his mother's house. A strong longing overcame him.

"The only things with enough sugar and chemicals to satisfy my needs.", Peter continued but his voice became choked towards the end. This suddenly felt like the bizarre reenactment of a memory. The longing sensation quickly morphed into a familiar ten year old guilt that gnawed away at his insides. (He let it.) In the following silence, the rain plattered loudly against the window.

"I think I'm gonna go back to bed.", you said after a moment passed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight.", he repeated and was relieved the conversation was over before he had the chance to say something really stupid, like: I miss you.

(Fast forward.)

------------------------------------------

"I'm fine.", he said a bit too blatantly not fine. "Just give me two minutes."

You looked at him and hesitated. "Are you sure?"

He wished hearing your voice didn't comfort him as much as it did. Maybe it was less about your voice specifically and rather about having any kind of noise outside his own head.

"You can go." Please don't leave, don't fucking leave him here-

His thoughts must have gone through to you because you stayed.

"I don't think you should be alone right now.", you said after a moment of consideration and moved to sit down in front of him. "Is this okay?"

He doesn't know what to say, how to form words at all, so he simply nods.

"Do you want to talk about it?", you offered.

Peter swallowed and managed to glance up at you. "No.", his voice sounded so small.

It was your turn to nod. "That's alright, you don't have to. Just, try to take deep breaths, okay?"

You exaggerated your own breathing to make it easier for him to follow along. He doesn't know how much time passed while he tried to get his breathing pattern to some semblance of normal, but eventually, he got there.

And you were still there with him. Sitting on the floor in the laundry room. Nothing made sense.

He wants, but he can't have it, wouldn't know what to do with it if he had it. For the fraction of a moment, he thought kissing you would be a nice and absolutely horrifying idea.

"Do you think we would've had a chance if I hadn't been a jerk about it?", he asked instead, not quite sane yet but trying at least.

"I don't know, Peter. Would we have been anything to begin with if you hadn't been a jerk about it?", you countered with a hint of bitterness.

He laughed but there was no humor in it. "Probably not."

"Is this what's troubling you?" The bitterness made way for more concern and Peter kind of wanted to cry.

"No, it's--"

He briefly considered just spilling all his guts right then. To just lay it all out for you to see and decide which parts of him were worth keeping. To have someone else make sense of this mess.

Peter sighed and gestured vaguely with one hand. "it's a part of it but not--There's a whole thing and I don't know what to do about any of it." He looked at you as if in search of an answer, even though he knew he couldn't expect that from you.

"Have you tried taking the 'thing' apart and going at it that way?"

"I--haven't. Where would I even start?" (Basements, rooftops, prisons, deserts, mansions--)

"Is Erik a part of it?" The name made him freeze up.

"I've noticed you become much--quieter, less like yourself when he's around.", you explained and Peter is stuck on the fact that you noticed. Was he that obvious?

"I--It's not, it's nothing--", he sputtered, not knowing what he wanted to say at all. No, he didn't want to say anything. For some reason the possibility of you knowing scared him more than anything else at the moment.

"Mystique told me." you continued a bit sheepishly, "I asked her about you and she, she told me about Erik."

"Oh my god," he groaned, all fear forgotten in his annoyance. "At the speed she's running her mouth, I'm surprised he doesn't know yet!" He burrowed his head in his hands. You gave him the time to compose himself, which he was thankful for.

He lifted his head a little to catch sight of your expression as he quietly asked: "What do you think?" - about Erik, about Peter, about what this made Peter, about-

You took a deep breath before replying. "I think you should tell him if only to get some peace of mind because you are clearly lacking that at the moment. This could be a start."

He hates that you are right, he hates that everyone except himself is always right about everything in his life.

"Hey," You took hold of his wrist and brushed your thumb over the inside in a soothing manner. "You don't have to do it alone. We're all here for you if you need us, be it to talk to Erik or to tackle any other part of your 'thing'." He felt like he did not deserve the softness in your eyes.

You got up to beginn putting the laundry you brought with you into the washing machine. "I do think you should talk to someone more professional about this, too. Like the professor or the counsellor the others mentioned."

"Yeah, I'll look into it.", he lied.

(Turn back just a bit and let it run.)

------------------------------------------

Peter felt not unlike a cassette tape with its magnetic band spilling out.

*He's unsure what sent him over the edge, maybe the fact that Erik visited the school - well, the Professor, he's only ever here for the Professor and Peter can't even blame him because Erik doesn't know any better – or maybe that last conversation with you that left him confused and aching but he doesn't understand, this is over, long over and he was the one who put the nail on the coffin, or maybe the counselling Ororo and Jean kept recommending to him even though it has been a year since Apocalypse happened and he's fine or maybe, maybe this was a long time coming anyway.

He was hiding in the laundry room. (No one went here, unless they had to.)

His body was visibly shaking, damn near vibrating. In the back of his mind he kept thinking the force of the vibration could rattle the foundation so much that the entire building will come crashing down on him. It would be kind of cool, if it wasn't also a dumb way to die. And he really did not want to think about ways to die.

(Desert, ruins, magnetic fields, snap—crack—twist) – Here we go again.

He reached up to grip his hair--something to ground him--and that immediately made it ten times worse. Peter sucked in a sharp breath and fumbled for his walkman instead, only to remember he left it in his room. He cursed silently.

He could go and get it, no one would see him. (He would still see other people, though.)

Just back and forth, wouldn't take any time at all. (He doesn't think he can get up, maybe his leg's still fucked up-)

Peter cursed again; it came out as a sob. He curled up more tightly and pressed his forehead against his knees.

How everyone can be so calm about any of this was beyond his understanding. People died, a lot of people, he saw the news. He had called his mother after the apocalypse. He had never heard her sound so scared before. ('Where are you? Are you okay? What happened? Did you tell him? Did he hurt you?') The last two still circle around in his head. Did you tell him?Did you tell him?Did you tell him?- How could he have? The man was literally tearing the world apart as they spoke, did Peter really want to admit being his son? Did he want that kind of connection? Did he hurt you?- No, he did stand by and watch Peter get hurt, though.

His knee jerked almost reflexively. He had never felt so helpless before, so trapped--except maybe right now, stuck in a mansion filled with so many relationships that aren't what they could be--He's not stuck, he can leave anytime. If he wanted, he could get up and run as fast as he can. They would never get him. - Would they even look for him? Or would they be glad he was gone? After all, only one person had seemed to care enough to step when Apocalypse had him by his hair. (He can't blame the kids, they didn't even know him. He can't blame anyone, it was fucking Apocalypse-) What if Mystique hadn't stepped in? What if Erik hadn't switched sides last minute? He would be dead, same as most of the world's population. Would that be better than dealing with the fallout?--The sudden thought terrifies him.--But would it?--No.

Faintly, he hears a door open and just hopes whoever entered won't--

"Oh, Peter. What are you doing down here?" He must make quite the sad sight cowering next to the washing machine, hugging his knees and back pressed to the cold basement wall. "Are you alright? Should I call someone?"

He tried to suppress his shivering and get enough air into his aching lungs to form words.*

"I'm fine.", he said a bit too blatantly not fine. "Just give me two minutes."

(We know it from here, skip ahead.)

------------------------------------------

The night before, the X-men had drunkenly built a blanket-fort in the mansion's main living room area. It had been a lot of fun and a lot of chaos, but that was not the part of last night's memories Peter kept replaying in his head. He may have been very drunk at that point and the details were fuzzy, but he knew for sure that it had happened. (--quick breaths, warm lips, tracing hands--) His face flushed at the memory.

On the stairs leading down to the training area, he finally ran into you after more than half a day spent either actively looking for or avoiding you. (When he first caught a glimpse of you, he almost let his flight instinct take over.)

You were going down, he was going up and now you were both in each other's way.

"Hey, [Name].", he said in a voice that could pass as steady. His heart was beating out of his chest.

Your expression looked pained and you tried your best to hide it by avoiding eye contact.

"Can we talk about this tomorrow?" you sounded tired in a way that caught yourself off guard. The "or never" was well implied.

Peter thought about giving in and letting go, but what good would it do to continue this state of charged awkwardness? What good would it do to try and keep this ache behind his lungs under lock and key when you seemingly felt the same? He shook his head.

You sighed. "I--we drank a lot and--"

I adore you, he thought and shoved that sentiment down as quickly as he could. It's what has gotten him into this mess in the first place.

Blood thrumming in his veins, he summoned all his courage (or perhaps all his recklessness). "I'm sorry." He said and something inside him felt like it was about to topple over. "I never apologized for what I did and I want you to know that I am sorry."

Now you were looking at him. Surprise, hurt and so much more.

"And I want you to know that I-," he had to look away, unable to deal with this part head-on, "I've changed since then." (Is it still lying when he himself wants it to be true? Yes.)

A plop, you've let yourself sink to the floor to sit down on the stairs. You hit his leg. "No, you don't just get to do that. That's not--" You cut yourself off.

He kneeled down in front of you. Dark brown eyes met tear-stained ones. For the first time it occurred to him that you could be just as scared.

"It's been so long, I shouldn't still be hung up about this! God, I feel so stupid." You buried your face in your hands.

Peter tried not to shake as he took your hands in his. "You're not stupid, at least not stupider than me. We both know that'd be a challenge!" He smiled and you let out a chuckle despite yourself. "We can be hung up about it together if you want?"

"Are you sure? Because I can't do all that again, I won't."

He gave your hands a squeeze. "I am, and we--we don't have to jump into this, we can take it slow." (Loophole)

You looked at him for a moment, searching, thinking. A slow smile spread across your face.

When you pulled him in for a kiss, it was like he saw the sun after spending days inside. He could get drunk off of just this.

(Let it roll for a bit.)

------------------------------------------

Peter caught the water bottle you threw his way.

Endurance training had been on today's schedule, so Peter let the students run laps on the compound while he zipped from runner to runner to offer encouragement and telling them how much longer they needed to go. It had gone well, some kids had to give up before the end but no one had to be brought to the nurse (Hank).

"It's still strange seeing you as a teacher."

"Wow, thanks for all this faith you're putting in me." He passed the bottle back to you.

"You can wrap that sarcasm back up, I was gonna say you're a good teacher. It's just funny to me because you were hardly present at school back then, but I guess that has nothing to do with the ability to teach." You put your hand on his shoulder. "You're great at what you do."

"Yeah, well," he felt heat rush up to his face, "...I try."

You smiled fondly at him and kissed his cheek. "I know."

Something about this little interaction made him feel like that time he tried to swallow a Twinkie in whole and it got lodged in his throat. He tried to form a coherent reply but the words were not coming. Your hand fell from his shoulder and he was oddly dejected and relieved at the same time (the latter made him feel guilty without knowing why).

This was what he wanted, the--(intimacy)--relationship-y stuff, then why did it put him so on edge? After all, it wasn't that different from how you used to be before he had officially messed it up, right? - Wrong. This was no "fun-and-goofs"-make-pretend, this was the real deal, he agreed to it. He was going to do it right this time around. He was going to be a good--(boyfriend?partner?lover?)-- He was going to be good. He could do this, he wanted to.

You took his hand into yours and let them swing back and forth for a bit. "Everything okay?"

Peter smiled down at the way your hands touched. "Yeah, I'm good." He just wished he didn't want to run away, too.

"Did you have lunch yet? Because I'm starving! We can see what's in the kitchen.", you suggested.

"Sounds like a plan. You go ahead, I just gotta take care of some teacher-business.", he slipped his hand out of your grasp to pick up his stopwatch.

"Okay, I'll see you in a moment then.", he did not pick up on your questioning undertone.

"Yeah.", he said and left. (He didn't join you for lunch, even though he felt terrible about it.)

(Jump ahead.)

------------------------------------------

It was bound to happen eventually.

"You don't seem happy." - "Neither do you."

He should've known you could not go on like that forever. Maybe this was never a forever sort of thing.

"You keep avoiding me and I don't know what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, I'm not-"

"If you try and deny it, I swear to god!"

He winced then, guilty. You sighed.

"You need to talk to me about these things, I can't help you if you shut me out." almost pleading.

"I'm fine," he insisted. All senseless stubbornness.

It didn't get better after that. How could it?

"I just--I've had enough, Peter. I don't need a repeat of our teenage years!" You were stressed and angry and willing to hurt, the worst combination.

"I'm trying!" He wasn't much better off.

"Are you?"

"Yes! I'm trying my best!"

"Maybe that's not good enough!", your voice broke on the last syllable.

He threw his arms up. "Well, what do you want me to do then?"

"I—I'm just sick of you letting me dangle in the air, okay? I'm sick of everything being up in the air!"

(Skip, Skip, Skip - There had to be a way to get past this.) Cold anger was worse, always worse.

"When you apologized, you told me you changed."

"I have!" He said, but didn't believe it himself.

"You got better but you're still the same in the worst places."

Something finally tipping over. "You act like it was all my fault, as if you never did anything wrong!"

"I didn't know-"

"You said you knew! You knew but never asked because then you would've had to make an effort." Spitting acid.

"That's completely different!" Voice growing louder, too.

"You told me I didn't care enough. You left as soon as things stopped being all sunshine!" When had he started shouting?

"I was a teenager, okay? A dumb fucking teenager!"

"What do you think I was?" Silence ringing in his head for days.

(Skip, skip, skip, skip, skip-)

------------------------------------------

He just finished wrapping up things on his end and was about to check in with the rest of the team. It was this deceptive part of the mission right before the end when everything feels like smooth sailing and you almost forget it is not quite over yet.

"Quicksilver here, everything's done on my end, how's it looking?"

Scott answered: "That's good. The situation looks stable so far, meet-up at-"

A scream pierced through his comms and Peter felt his blood run cold.

"What happened?"

"Guys-", your voice came through distorted, "we---we forgot---"

Static. The line was dead.

(Too far, rewind.)

------------------------------------------

It was just another friday afternoon.

Last week the attempted assassination of the president may have sent the nation into a panic but the past is the past, right? (Apart from the fact that Peter played a minor role in said past and even farther apart from the confession his mother dropped on him the other day, turns out there aren't that many guys who control metal - Nope, not going there. ) Just another friday afternoon.

All the agitated energy that had been cursing through his veins for weeks and caused him to jump at the opportunity to do anything interesting, anything to keep him busy – (Even prison break? But come on, the Pentagon!) - all that energy was back now, except it was not quite the same, was it? Last week he had a lot less on his conscience. (Last week he didn't know his father, holy shit-) If he was cruising for a bruising then, what does that make him now?

Either way, the last thing he needed right then was-

"Peter, we need to talk.", you said gravely after standing silently at the bottom of the stairs.

"Is that so?" His eyes remained glued to the screen of his stolen arcade machine. You had been eerily quiet so far and that conversation opener rarely lead to anything pleasant. Maybe if he didn't look at you, then-

"Peter. We need to talk." The repetition somehow made it sound even worse. "And I need you to listen, actually listen, okay?"

I don't know if I can, he wanted to say, but didn't. Instead he turned around to look at you.

The expression on your face reminded him of his mum, right before she told him. You looked like what you were about to say would hurt, both of you. Don't say it then, he wanted to interject, as if not saying it could somehow stop it from becoming real. There was something else there too, besides the dread. Something like morbid curiosity, which is why instead he said: "Go on then, I'm all ears!"

You took a deep breath. "I think we should break up."

Say what now?

"I like you a lot Peter, I do, but I don't feel like you...I feel like you don't really care about our relationship. You've been weirdly distant and we never really talk about what's up, it's just-" You sighed, clearly frustrated with yourself for being unable to explain.

Oh. No, that's- that's not-

- "Our relationship?", he interrupted. (Someone give him something to do, something that isn't this. Aren't there any prisons left to break into?)

"Yes. Our relationship.", you confirmed with an edge of confusion.

"Who said I was your boyfriend?" A pause, like he was watching his life on VHS and finally found the remote. Just in time to be a little too late. (He was sensing a pattern here...)

The series of emotions washing over your expression were difficult for him to read. Confusion seemed to win out for the moment. "What? Peter, we have been-"

"We haven't been anything." The blood in his veins felt like it was slowly freezing, trapping what's left of his energy inside, leaving him completely still. Even his knee stopped bouncing.

"Are you serious right now? After all the- you've got to be kidding me!", an edge of desperation crept into your voice.

(Eject, eject, eject- That's not how it works.)

"I'm not." Good God, what is he saying? Someone tell him what the hell he's talking about because he sure as fuck doesn't know. "And we're not. In a relationship, I mean. Never were, never will be if I caught your drift there." He swallowed, found it much harder than it used to be. "If this is about what we did the last couple of-" He didn't know, he didn't know anything anymore, "-whatever, don't worry about it. It doesn't mean--not like that anyway."

He tried to smile, failed. "So like, no problem."

(Not this far back. We know how that ends.)

------------------------------------------

Peter had prepared himself for anything when you asked him to meet you after dinner. Anything, except an apology.

A small "What?" fell from his lips. The rain pattering against the windows was almost loud enough to drown it out.

"I'm sorry, Peter," you repeated. "I'm so, so sorry for all the awful things I said and did and-"

This didn't make any sense, stop, stop, stop- "Stop. I-," He sputtered for a moment, feeling like he missed something. (He didn't deserve this.) "I don't, I don't get it." was what he settled on. "Why are you apologising?"

"Why shouldn't I apologise to you, Peter?", you sounded so concerned and sad and-- It didn't make any sense.

Peter threw his arms up. "You were right! About everything!" He could feel the hysteria setting in, he didn't care.

"No, no that's not-"

"I never changed, I didn't try hard enough, I should've talked to you more, I should've--I--I-"

You grabbed his hands out of the air to hold them in a tight grip. "No! I was wrong, Peter." You held onto his hands for a moment until his breathing calmed down a little. Then you loosened your grip again and sighed. "We can't keep going like this."

Peter let his hands slip from your grasp. "So you'll leave?" (Again)

"No, I want us to fix this!", frustration with an edge of desperation. "We have to talk about this for once."

Peter looked down at his silver running shoes. "What's there to talk about?"

You laughed, it was a wet, ugly sound. "You're doing it again, I can't--I don't know what to do when you get like this!"

He swallowed around the growing lump in his throat. "Like what?"

"I feel like you're always halfway out the door." It felt like the fight with Apocalypse all over again. Your words ripped him out of his element and forcefully brought him back to reality. He almost expected someone to knock his leg out from under him. "You're never fully in but you don't want to leave either."

What could he say to that? What could he possibly say when it's the truth? Ready to run at the drop of a shoe, be it ten years ago in a basement stocked to the ceiling with stolen goods or now in a mansion filled with mutant kids who turn to him for advice.

"In my defense, " God, his voice was shaking. When's that punch gonna come and twist his arm? "do you have any idea how easy it is to run away when you're better at it than everyone else? Running away is literally my specialty!"

You cradled his face in your hands. "You are so much more than that."

The tears stinging his eyes began to blur his vision. "How? I'm scared all the time, I'm fucking terrified!"

"And that's okay!" You searched his eyes for some sign your words got through to him. "It's okay to be scared."

He kissed you then, trembling and filled with fear. He pulled back a moment later, brushing away tears with one hand. "Even if it's this I'm scared of?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise."

"That isn't your fault."

You continued as if you hadn't heard him. "All this time, I was still angry at you, I held on to that anger instead of trying to understand why." You tried not to sob and took a deep breath. "So when you asked me to give you another chance, part of me expected the worst to happen again. I didn't question it when you got distant. I just let it get worse because I already thought this was what's gonna happen anyway."

The rain stopped falling a while ago. The resulting silence felt like a lifetime. "So did I." His voice barely more than a whisper.

"You-" Eyes went wide, tears welled up and spilled over. "Why would you do that? Why would you put yourself in-"

"I don't know." Peter shrugged helplessly. "I don't know," he repeated. The self-deprecating chuckle died in his throat when he finally looked at you again. "I guess, I missed you."

Wordlessly, you pulled him into an embrace, twisting your hands in the back of his leather jacket. Peter was startled for a second, then he returned the hug.

"I missed you, too," you mumbled, face buried in his shirt, "and I don't want to keep on missing you when you're right here." His arms tightened their grib around you involuntarily.

Resolution flooded his veins and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "We'll get better."

(Now forward.)

------------------------------------------

For a while neither of you spoke. Just two people, sitting on the roof, enjoying the view and breathing lungs full of crisp evening air. Peter looked over at you, watched your profile in the dimming daylight and found a thought cross his mind: I could get used to this. Followed by: I think I may already be.

Your face turned. "What are you smiling at?", you asked even though you were smiling, too.

"You, obviously." You pushed his grinning face away with your hands.

Peter laughed lightheartedly. "Careful! You're gonna push me off the roof!"

"Don't tempt me."

He stole a peck. "Wouldn't dream of it."

For a moment he remembered a different interaction on a different roof a decade ago, though for once he did not feel the need to ruminate on it.

He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. Right now, the world for Peter began and ended where his body touched yours, from the soothing press of your head against his own, to your intertwined hands and the line where your thighs brushed against each other.

Forever did not scare him anymore.

(Pause here - just for a moment.

Okay.)

------------------------------------------

His thoughts are racing as he speeds through unfamiliar hallways. What did they forget? What did they forget? Everything was going so well, what did they forget?

It's already over when he gets there. Nothing greets him but rubble where the failed portal used to loom over a secret laboratory. Peter shouts your name. No one answers.

He's turning over every piece of scrap metal by the time the rest of the x-men arrive, on the off chance that you're still there, just buried underneath some debris, alive, not gone. Someone is pulling on his arm, talking to him. None of the words register. Finally he is pulled back by someone stronger. The metal beam floating in the air mid-fall above where he stood a moment ago sinks to the ground.

"Peter," it's Erik, his father is talking to him, "Charles and Hank are figuring out the portal, we'll get them back." Peter looks at him but stares right through. He's more terrified than he's ever been.

(Don't let this be the end. Go back.

One more time.)

#peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff #petester mcspeedster #reader insert #the scribbles #x men days of future past #x men apocalypse #dark pheonix who?#angst #hurt #hurt/comfort #some fluff #is this a reader insert or a character study? yes #x men reader insert

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glacecakes · 4 years

Text

Alchemy Lullaby (11/?)

Of all the changes that came with living in the castle, becoming a father was not one he anticipated. When Eugene encounters a small child suffering like he did, he gives them the opportunity to grow up the way he never did… helping them both heal. (AU where Varian is 4 and gets adopted by Eugene)

Varian comes down with a cold; the ramifications of learning the truth.

Read the rest on AO3

Starting making this, had a breakdown, bon apetit.

No deadass that's what happened @space--butterflies and @finnoky gave me a rly good idea, I rewrote the whole chapter, had a mental breakdown, went to therapy, cranked this out. So. sorry for being late rip.

Uhhh it's 2 am I'm too tired to do my usual spiel remember to vote tomorrow if u can, comment, kudos, blood sacrifice, thank u i would die for u all

So apparently staying up all night with your negative thoughts in order to win your father’s love was a bad idea.

The rest of the day was silent and somber. Rapunzel and Eugene kept sharing looks that Varian couldn’t comprehend. Cassandra paled whenever she looked at him. But they never spoke a word of what had occurred, and it was driving Varian crazy. He didn’t get any of the victory glory, no, instead he got bitterness and despair. At least momma would have been proud of him; she’d always wanted him to control his powers.

Around bedtime he got cranky. It started with not wanting to eat dinner. Usually Eugene would let Varian throw a tantrum; he refused to bow to Varian’s wishes and let him have his way. But not then. Eugene was terrified of a tantrum, what the destruction could entail. So when Varian refused to eat, he didn’t question it, and simply carted Varian off to an early bedtime.

But when he and his girlfriend came to get Varian in the morning, exhausted from a night of conversing and debating and crying, they found Varian not much better off.

The boy’s face was coated in sweat, radiating an uncomfortable heat. He whimpered, not even complaining when Eugene lifted him up out of bed. Instead he buried his face into the crook of Eugene’s neck, hot tears dripping down onto it. While morning cuddles were usual, this crying was definitely not.

It was so concerning that they had booked it down to the infirmary half out of their minds with worry.

“You said he woke up like this?” The doctor asked, brushing a gloved hand across Varian’s temple.

“Yes, he won’t talk to me, is he ok? I mean, obviously not, but-”

Eugene’s panicking was cut off by an abrupt sneeze, then another. Varian moaned, shifting away from the doctor’s hand.

“Loud,” Varian mumbled. “Hurts.”

They all quieted. “Sounds like a bug, or the flu,” Rapunzel hummed.

The doctor nodded. “He just needs rest and fluids. Has he ever been sick before?”

“Not while with us, no.”

“Alright. Take his temperature every hour until the fever breaks, and if it gets above 103 bring him back.” With a ruffle to Varian’s hair, the doctor wandered off, likely to see another patient.

“I’ll take him back to his room,” Eugene muttered. “You’re probably busy today, right?”

“Not too busy for him!” The princess whispered back. She frowned, reaching a hand over and brushing it against Varian’s cheek. Poor thing. “He’s miserable, he’ll need some love and snuggles.”

“Did you not hear the doctor? He needs rest.”

“How can he rest when he’s in pain!?”

The conversation became more biting the more both of them spoke. Even without them running on minimal sleep, taking care of a sick child would not be ideal. And it seemed they had wildly different ideas on how to help.

It didn’t help they’d been up all night thinking about the… other problem.

“Look,” Rapunzel finally sighed. “We all need sleep. You can take the first shift, I’ll come get you in a few hours. Ok?” Her eyes, while misty from frustration, tried to shine with their usual kindness. Eugene felt like he’d been punched in the gut with a guilt fist, but also, he remembered why he loved this woman so much.

Eugene smiled sadly. “Alright, get some rest. Love you.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, and with that, she left.

For a moment he was lost in thought, but Eugene frowned as Varian began to squirm. Tears of pain still streaked down chubby cheeks, at least until Eugene began to bounce him in his arms. He kept one hand on Varian’s head and pulled it to his chest, the other kept supporting his son. Varian, despite being past infancy, still retained a love for being cradled and rocked. Likely because he never really got it before. It did the trick, and he was back to an uneasy calm in minutes.

He kept up the bouncing, letting Varian rest while they walked back to Varian’s room. He only stopped his soothing motions to deposit Varian back in bed, and then switched to stroking his son’s soft hair.

“Daddy don’t go,” Varian whispered. “‘M sorry.”

Eugene blinked. There it was again, calling him dad. So far Varian only did it when especially upset or tired, but it warmed his heart every time. The situation wasn’t great, but still the fuzzies remained.

“What are you sorry for, bud?” Eugene hummed. “Not your fault you got sick. It just happens.”

“For the rocks.” A hazy, clouded blue peeked open to stare into the man’s soul. Through the pain Eugene could see fear, despair, and anguish; and it wasn’t because of the illness.

“Those…” He sighed. True, they caused problems, and it was a miracle Rapunzel didn’t touch them and cause an explosion, but it could wait until Varian was healthy again. “It’s… ok. Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

Varian shrugged. “Cuz momma….” his voice trailed off. He didn’t even know where to begin. If he told Eugene everything, about the experiments and running and pain, would Eugene do the same?

No, no. Eugene and momma were not the same. Eugene loved him. Eugene cared for him! He would never.

Thankfully, Eugene picked up on it. “Get some rest, ok? We’ll deal with it when you’re feeling better.”

Varian unconsciously grabbed his stuffed toy, bringing the ear up to suck on. “No,” he mumbled through felt. “Not tired.”

His dad suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “What are you then?”

“A frog.”

He let out a bark of laughter at that. “A frog, eh? Like Pascal? Well this little frog,” he poked Varian’s nose which earned a breathless giggle. “Needs some rest.”

“Story?” Big blue eyes gazed up at him, pleading.

Yea, he should’ve seen it coming. Now that he was thinking about it, Eugene prayed Varian had never gotten sick while on his own. Or with his mom. It’s unrealistic, of course Varian has been sick before, but what if his mom had done the same as him? What if she refused to comfort him, refused to snuggle and wipe his snot?

So despite every fibre of his being wanting to avoid getting infected, this was a losing battle. He grabbed the Flynn Rider book off its nightstand. They’d been blazing through each book; in the few months since Varian joined them they were now on book 6.

“You’re just one crazy event after another, aren’t you?” Eugene hummed. He got a wet cough as a reply. Gross.

He’s totally gonna get sick isn’t he?

Despite her words, Rapunzel couldn’t sleep.

Every time she shut her eyes, visions of obsidian danced behind her eyelids, willing her hair upright. She couldn’t get them out of her head, and it really was no surprise why. It’s not everyday that your boyfriend’s son reveals that he can control the rocks that gave you back your 70 feet of hair!

Back when it first grew back, she and Cassandra had scoured the library for any information they could, before finally getting some help from Xavier the blacksmith. He’s a good man, and he knew a lot about legends, but legends aren’t facts. Now, she wonders if the rocks were leading her to him, to Varian, and it was by sheer coincidence Eugene found him first. But she’d never say that out loud. Varian was destined to be Eugene’s son, even if he wasn’t born it. Maybe it was a sign that he was her son too.

Three delicate knocks ring on the King’s Office’s door. “Dad, can I come in?”

At his affirmation, she opened the door. Frederick, regal as ever, stood on one end of the table, with Quirin at another. Oh, she’d been meaning to speak to her dad in private, but it’s not a big deal! Right…?

Well, maybe it was. Despite her and Eugene and Cassandra all vowing to keep Varian’s ability a secret for now, lest magic-fearing Frederick find out, the point remained that she needed to speak to him about it. While Varian had taken up most of everyone’s time and energy, the rocks never vanished from her list of problems. No, they still lingered around Corona, causing problems left and right. And something told Rapunzel that Varian’s outburst from before didn’t help matters.

“I was wondering about… the black rocks?” She started, and both men froze. A silent conversation occurred, shared in frantic, locked eyes. Quirin fidgeted helplessly, unsure of what the king wanted him to say. His eyes glanced down at the map where black flags pinpointed the locations of each rock spotted. While most were clustered in Old Corona, to the east, there were a few dotting the island capital. Rapunzel’s heart sank the longer she stared.

Francis’ tailor shop.

The schoolhouse.

The tunnel system.

The alley where it all started.

Varian.

She struggled to keep from screaming.

“I’ve been aware of these rocks for… quite some time now.” Frederick rested both hands on the diorama that encompassed much of the office. “They posed a real problem, displacing people from their homes, damaging roads…”

“Oh no,” she breathed. How much of it was intentional? How much of it was an accident?

“But fortunately!” Frederick perked up, giving her an encouraging smile. “We’ve taken care of them! In fact, I’m sending Quirin to Old Corona tomorrow to make sure our efforts have succeeded.”

“You are?” Quirin asked, confused. He got an elbow in the stomach. “I-I mean, yes, your highness, I’ll be headed out first thing tomorrow.”

She furrowed her brow, uncertain. Old Corona… so that was where Varian lived before the alley, before them. “Great, then I hope you don’t mind if I join you? I haven’t been out that way in a while, I’m sure the people would appreciate a visit.”

Frederick scowled, but before he could protest, Quirin hastily agreed. “O-of course, your highness, I would be honored for you to… accompany me.” He raised his eyebrows in a concerned smile, desperately trying to convey a silent question. Did Rapunzel know what he had seen? Is she trying to protect the child? Please oh please don’t force him to hurt a child to appease her father.

But alas, she didn’t seem to get the message. “Great, now if you excuse me, Varian isn’t feeling very well and Eugene needs a break.” She marched out of the room. The moment the door closed both men sagged in relief.

“Sir,” Quirin managed. “You and I both know the rocks haven’t been dealt with-”

“Don’t let her see or learn a thing.”

The knight fell silent. “Yes sir,” he whispered, but for once, he didn’t mean it.

Varian fell asleep relatively quickly, and thankfully it seemed more or less steady. So much so that Eugene was able to swap with Rapunzel without issue.

“I spoke to my dad, I’m headed to Old Corona tomorrow,” she whispered. Her eyes were exhausted but full of fire.

“How come?”

“It’s where she lives.”

Instantly, Eugene’s face fell. Right. The source of the fighting last night.

Eugene had been adamant. He’d met Varian’s momma once before, and that was enough. She hated her kid, she abandoned her kid and didn’t complain once when Eugene whisked him away. But Rapunzel had insisted in truth above all else. If anyone knew what was going on, it’d be her. He knew deep down it was a losing argument, but the point remained that he promised to clock her next time she showed her face.

“I’ll stay with him then. Hopefully this is just a 24 hour bug, I can’t do another day of this.” She smiled. It wasn’t the caring for a child wearing him down, that much was clear.

“Go take a nap, I’ll hang with him,” she whispered. The words flowed over him like charmspeak, and next thing he knew, it was late afternoon and he was waking up in his own bed.

He went to fetch some supplies. Nothing too much, just some pain medicine, towels, and cold water to soak them in. He’d probably also have to run a bath at some point, which Varian would despise. Much like Ruddiger, the child was happiest when covered in dirt and mud and soot.

It’s no wonder Varian adores the creature so much, he thinks with a chuckle.

In fact, Eugene is so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t notice someone coming his way until he nearly spills the bowl onto the Captain.

“Oh, shoot! Sorry Cap,” He winces, praying the man doesn’t try to kill him. He’s yelled over less.

“Fitzherbert,” the man sighed. He looked peeved, but said nothing of it. “I was wondering why you didn’t turn up to training today.”

Shit! He totally forgot to tell anyone that Varian was sick! Ears reddening, Eugene stuttered. “I-uh-yea, about that…”

The Captain raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. His face was impassive, but his eyes said it all. He’d better have a good explanation, or his ass was toast.

“Varianissickpleasedon’tkillme.” he braced himself for the smack.

“I get it.” And with that, all the air flew out of Eugene’s lungs.

“Oh thank god, I was afraid you’d kill me.”

“Fair enough.”

Eugene shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. He and the Captain never really spoke about personal matters, it was strictly a business truce. But it appeared that was about to change. The older man put a hand on Eugene’s shoulder.

“Fitzherbert, I believe Cassandra told you about her own adoption story?”

“How you took her in, yea.”

“I was just like you, back then.” The man’s eyes are stern but kind. Eugene had seen it directed at others, but never him.

“I hovered, and I worried about every little thing. They become the center of your world so fast, and you want to savor every moment. The first night with Cassandra, I never left her side, I just… sat there, and marveled at how something so small could be so important to me so quickly.” He gave the new father a weary smile.

Eugene glanced down at the water, rapidly warming. Cogs turned in his brain as he thought of a proper response.

Captain sighed. “Look, you said he’s sick?” Eugene nodded. “Then I’ll let it slide. Hope he gets well soon, for both of your sakes.”

That caused Eugene’s head to snap up. “What? I’m fine.”

“You’re missing your sass, Fitzherbert. Your color, your spice. You live for that kid, I can tell.” He let the man go, and walked off with a wave. “Hope he gets well soon. Oh, and bring him to training some time, eh?”

Eugene raised his hand in farewell, dumbfounded. The Captain had never been that… nice to him. Ever.

He didn’t ruminate on it for too long. He heard a faint cry from the end of the hall, where his son was.

The door creaked open, revealing a sad sight. Varian tossed and turned in the bed, whimpering and hiccuping tiny sobs. His fists grasped light blue sheets, the same color as eyes which were currently closed. Rapunzel looked to him helplessly.

“Hey hey, bluebird,” Eugene cooed, sliding into the bed and pulling his darling boy into his arms. “Shh, you’re ok, you’re safe. Are you awake?”

Varian whimpered, and Eugene couldn’t tell if it was an affirmation or coincidence. The boy was a furnace, he could only imagine the pain and discomfort. Being sick was never fun, especially at that age.

A more violent cry escaped small lips as Varian squirmed.

“Varian?”

“Momma, it hurts…”

Eugene’s heart plummeted into his stomach. He felt like he was going to vomit, and he wasn’t the sick one. Rapunzel stifled a gasp. Haunting memories of another mother resurfaced.

“H...hey, Varian,” her voice shook to high heavens. “Varian, it’s time to wake up.”

“Don’t wanna… no more.”

Oh lord, no more what? What did this woman do to her son? Their son? Eugene buried his nose into Varian’s sweaty hair and Rapunzel wrapped her arms around them both, a familiar position for the family. His mind raced at light speed, trying not to let too many possibilities flood his mind. He was scaring himself, but he dreaded the real answer more.

Varian’s leg kicked out in his sleep, and a tear rolled down his cheek.

“Oh, bud,” Eugene sighed, biting his lip. Usually it was Rapunzel who took charge of lullabies, but…

“Look to the stars... my darling baby boy...” Almost like magic, Varian began to settle. His foot, which had been raised mid kick, landed softly on Rapunzel’s chest, the fuzzy socks pressing against his shirt.

The blonde smiled and joined in. “Life is strange and vast, filled with wonder and joy…” As the furrow on Varian’s brow smoothed, Neither of them could help the overwhelming love that filled their souls. All directed at the boy in their arms. Even if he was a handful, and possibly, apparently, dangerous.

Eugene laid Varian back down into bed, brushing unruly hair back. He repositioned so Rapunzel was resting against his chest as they sang in unison.

“Face each new sun with eyes clear and true Unafraid of the unknown Because I’ll face it all with you.”

Varian smiled in his sleep.

#varian #tts varian #tangled the series #tts #tangled #eugene fitzherbert #tangled eugene #tts eugene #team awesome

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tepkunset · 5 years

Note

Do you have any tips for writing from Dani Moonstar's pov?

😁

I think the three biggest things about Dani when written well are:

She has very intense emotions in all regards, especially as a teen.

She is a definitive introvert, though not to mistake this as shyness.

She judges people as being worthy of listening to by their character, not because someone said so.

Dani’s emotional intensity is both a positive and negative thing.It’s directly connected to her perceptiveness, judging subtleties in scenarios and in people, being able to ‘read the room.’ When one of her teammates isn’t behaving like their normal selves, she is quick to pick it up, just as quick as she is to detect when something suspicious is going on.Her empathy can also be viewed as a strength as it’s what’s gotten her into a lot of heroics, such as the very reason she became a valkyrie, saving Brightwind.It’s usually her emotions that drive her audacity. Because she sees something that looks like fun, or because she’s swept away by excitement or anger. Because she also experiences negative emotions more powerfully, too. She gets anxious pretty easily, and sometimes that leads to rabbit-holes of negative thoughts. As a teen especially, she’s prone to start thinking about one worry, and go off on tangents of others. She blames herself for every failure. And Dani thinks about how afraid she is more than any other New Mutant, but the really important part of that is she carries on anyway.One of the things she does to help with her anxiety is prepare for things in depth. She reads details and maps, goes over battle strategies, much to the New Mutants’ annoyance, creates fake surprise attacks... which actually I think speaks a lot about her anxiety right from as a kid, feeling like they need to be ready to fight any any given moment... She also trains as a means of trying to work through shit, by focusing on the physical to tamper down the rest.As a teen, Dani’s biggest struggle with her powers is not being able to control them when her emotions run high. She unintentionally summons visions both for herself and for others. Throughout the classic New Mutants series though, she gains control of this.As an adult she certainly steels herself more, though that doesn’t mean shutting herself down completely.

Dani is, hands down, an introvert. Now like I said, it’s important not to mistake introvertedness for shyness, because that is one thing she is not. But almost all the real criteria for an introvert is like making a list of her character. She hates crowds and loud noises, finding them draining and feeling like she’s out of place. She never minds being by herself, in fact it’s relaxing for her. Her small circle of friends is her small circle of friends, and unlike most of the other New Mutants, she’s never really been one to branch out a whole lot. She can get judged as being too serious, when really she’s just deep in thought or observation.As said above, she feels deeply, and is also very reflective. Etc. etc. etc.

Dani from day one was pegged by Xavier as being ‘rebellious’ LMAO. Though for serious, as a teen she does straight up get enjoyment out of challenging Xavier, a part of her hoping that he’ll disapprove of her just so she could tell him where he can stick it. Far less so with Magneto. Because the thing is, Dani does have an “authority problem” by the authority’s definition, only because she doesn’t care how special or important you are, be it human, mutant, or even goddess of death. Does Dani stare down Captain fucking America and SHIELD when they’re being jerks? Without hesitation. The only thing that matters to her is who you are. She’ll treat you with respect if you treat her with respect. (But if you fake it, she’ll probably tell.) And if she sees you as being a person worth following, she’ll follow.You might want to call this being prideful, and I mean yeah, Dani does have some pride, but I’d say no more than a healthy dose. Honestly, I think it’s more of a cultural thing than anything.

A few other miscellaneous things:

Dani is very proudly Cheyenne. When making tough decisions, it’s fairly common for her to think about what her grandfather and her ancestors would do. One of the things she dwells on most when spiralling down her worries is trying to find her identity between Native, Mutant and Valkyrie, especially with that last part. Hell, there was even a whole short story about it (Of Faith and Fable). It pisses me off to no end how that’s been far less mentioned in modern comics.

She can channel a very commanding presence. More so as she gets older and has even more experience as a leader. (And teacher.)

Dani has in-universe been described as being a (butch) ‘tomboy,’ and most of the time she certainly does fit that. She can be a hard ticket, and dresses usually between androgynous and masculine (often specifically the Cowboy look)... though certainly hasn’t escaped being more, well, ‘sexed-up.’ But she does have a ‘girly’ side, too. She’ll still put on a dress and feel beautiful. She’d also never criticize a girl for being ‘girly.’ In fact, she actively encourages Rahne’s girly nature.

I hope this is something of what you were looking for, anon!

#dani moonstar #marvel comics #Anonymous #ask

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khoicesbyk · 4 years

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The Good Captain.

Author’s Note: This is my version of what book 2 of Distant Shores should be like. Y’know the book 2 that we readers of Distant Shores rightfully deserved! One more thing: in this fanfic, the MC’s last name has been changed to Bennett but; in the game it’s Carter. I decided to change it from Carter to Bennett; because Bennett sounds better to me. Also; her original occupation has been changed as well.

***Rated: Mature 18+. Contains sexual content, nudity, some violence and strong language.

***Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters.

***Characters: Captain Edward Mortemer (LI), Kyra Bennett (MC), Robert Finnegan (Main Antagonist), Charlie, Ginny, Jonas, Maggie, Samuel, Octavia, Henry, Axton, Adelia, Kendrick and Oliver Cochrane (Side Characters)

***Disclaimer: All character names (except MC) and some dialogues belong to Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 2,130 words.

Chapter 3: The Reunion.

Robert has returned, and he is hellbent on finding the lost island of Atlantis and Poseidon’s Trident. Meanwhile; Edward and the crew are trapped inside the tavern as it burns down.

After adjusting his eyesight to the smoke and shooting flames as best he could; Edward grabs the amulet, he puts Ginny who was closest to him when the roof collapsed on his back, calls out to the rest of his crew and leads them to safety via Tilly’s secret passageway.

“Is everyone alright? Are there any injuries?”, he asks as he looks everyone once over. Thankfully no one was hurt; just severely shaken by what had just transpired. “That cruel blackguard will pay for this!”, he says as he slams his fist into the stone wall.

“Aye he will! He will pay with his life! We will see to it!”, Charlie sneered. Rage written clear across her face. After safely making it back to The Jewel; the crew sets off into the night after Robert. The only thing is; they had no idea where he was headed next. Robert wasn’t going the traditional trade routes.

“Ye don’t know where he’s headed cap’n! We be sailing blind!”, Henry exclaimed.

“I don’t care! We WILL find him! And he will die! This time for good!”, he snapped at Henry.

“He’s right Edward. You don’t know where he’s headed. But I know who does!”, Charlie says as she points to the amulet around his neck. “Go to her Edward. We need her help. And you; need to make sure that she’s okay.”

“Charlie, I can’t just leave—“, he begins to say before she cuts him off, “I’m not asking you to leave; I’m telling you to! She’s having your child Edward, you need to go see her!”

In his heart; he knew she was right. He wanted to see her. He needed to see her. But he didn’t want to leave the crew behind.

“Charlie—“, he starts to protest before she cuts him off again,”We will be fine until you get back. I know where the second of The Seven Lords is. We’ll be fine as long as, we can beat him to the key fragment. Now go Edward! Go to Kyra. Send her our love!”

It was decided. He would go to the future to see her. Even though he had his apprehensions; he was secretly excited to see the future and to tell the crew what he saw. Remembering what Robert told her about using the amulet; Edward closed his eyes and envisioned her. And before he knew it; he was thrust into the future.

He was in a parlor of some sort he figured; but he wasn’t sure who’s parlor it was. It never dawned on him that; he was in her townhouse. Nor did he realize that his amulet was glowing.

While she was in her spare bedroom; she was going over scattered reports of the most recent accounts of Atlantis. With papers, books and the like laying all over the place. She was determined to find out everything she could about the legends of Atlantis and the trident. In the midsts of her research is; when the amulet that Robert “gave” to her started to glow ominously.

“That isn’t good!”, she said to herself.

Thinking that the glow meant Robert was coming to see her again; and knowing that he and his ilk would more than likely show up in her living room; she decided to arm herself.

So, she grabbed the metal baseball bat that she got after the last time she saw him and his crew, and went downstairs to see if her hunch was right. When Edward heard a door close; he looked for a place to hide. He was crouched down in her kitchen; ready to strike. When she descended down the stairs towards the living room; the amulet began to glow brighter.

“Alright ya stupid bastard! If I gotta go down; I’m at least gonna get a few Ken Griffey Jr. hits in!”, she says to herself as her couch came into view.

But when she turned a corner ready to fight for her and her child’s life; she didn’t see anything at first. But someone familiar saw her.

“Kyra…is it really you?”, asked a voice that was all too familiar. It startled her enough for her to drop that bat in her hand.

“No! It can’t be. He couldn’t be here. He’s not here! I’m hearing things because I’m paranoid. There is no way that he’s here…”, she said out loud; convinced she was hearing things.

“Kyra…”, he said to her. It caused her to start shaking.

“No! No! No! It’s not possible! He’s not here!”, she says out loud trying her hardest to convince herself, it’s not real. None of it is real. That was until, she felt his strong arms wrap tightly around her waist; and felt his warm breath in her ear.

“I’m here my love. I’m right here.”, he said to her.

It was indeed very real.

She couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t possible. It’s not possible. Even with his arms around her; she still struggled to believe it. That was until she turned around. It’s him. It’s Edward. He’s here. She was staring straight up at him. Those eyes, those beautiful brown eyes looked directly into hers. There he was. Her captain. The love of her life.

“Edward…”, she said as her voice cracked. She reached up and touched his face. He leaned into her touch. Oh how he missed it. That’s when she realized that it was real. He was real. That moment was real.

Overcome with emotion; she wrapped her arms around his neck. She just couldn’t believe what was happening. It wasn’t until her growing belly brushed against him; that she started to truly believe that it was real.

“I thought…I thought…that I’d never—“, she started to say something but; she was cut off by him kissing her. It was powerful. It was passionate. It was true love. It was Edward.

“I’ve missed my love. So much. I never stopped looking for you after you disappeared. And now, I’ve found you. I’ve finally found you!”, he told her.

He was just as emotional as she was.

“I missed you too! I didn’t want to leave you! I never meant to leave you. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Can you forgive me?”, she replied; as tears stung her eyes and stained her face.

“Shhhh! Hush! None of it was your fault. You did what you had to do. I could never find fault in that or you.”, he answered her.

She stepped back to truly take a look at him. He hadn’t changed at all. He was still as drop dead gorgeous as she remembered him to be. He placed his left hand on her belly, rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. She was really going to bare his child.

“Kyra…there is something I have been dying to tell you.”, he said to her.

“What is it Edward? Tell me.”, she replied, as her voice continued to break.

“I love you! I have loved you since the day we shared our first kiss. I have struggled without you by my side and in my arms.”, he admitted to her.

“I love you too! Now more than ever! You are the only man I will ever love!”, she replied before kissing him again.

They couldn’t get enough of each other. The only reason that they stopped; was because of Edward sinking to his knees and resting his forehead against her belly.

“I’m going to be a father. Your father. I promise you my child; that I will be a better father than the one I had.”, he whispered against her growing stomach. She draped her arms around his broad shoulders; and held him close.

“And what a father; you will be Edward. I’m so excited to have your baby. To have our baby.”, she quietly said to him as she rubbed his back. Tears of joy streamed down his face. He had her in his arms once again. He could touch her. He could taste her. He could feel her. When he looked into her beautiful brown eyes; he saw the love and the joy they shared.

“As happy as I am to see you Edward; I know that you have the amulet of Atlas. You’re because of jackass and his crew, aren’t you?”, she asks him.

“Aye, my love. He’s going after the key to Poseidon’s tomb. I must stop him Kyra. God only knows what havoc he will reek on my time and yours for that matter.”, he told her.

“You will stop him. I will make sure of it. Now come with me; so we can put a plan together.”, she tells him. He stands up then follows her upstairs to where she’d been doing her research. She explained everything she had learned so far. Especially what she had learned about Robert’s crew.

“This jackass here is his first mate; Gerald Pearson. But; I was able to find out their names. The names of the other members are Harold Perry, Donald Hunter, Quinten Jones, Frank Turner, Xavier Reynolds, Calvin Pierce, Shawn Winston and James Kenner. They along with The Sirens were all students in Robert’s Greek Mythology Class. “Now the women’s names are Tabitha Mills, Mari Rodriguez, Callie Wheeler and Beatrice Richards. They call themselves The Sirens. I’m still researching him and the crew.” she explained.

“This is a great start my love! Now, let’s work on the map.”, he told her.

Working together; they even found a way to make sure that the amulet of Orion, can never be used by Robert ever again. As they worked on a map of the seven kings; he noticed that she was starting to get tired.

“You should rest my love.”, he told her before placing a small kiss on the inside of her right wrist.

“I can’t rest yet Edward. We have to finish this map of where to look for the remaining keys. Besides; I’m scared to go to sleep.”, she admitted.

“Why?”, he asks her; as he held her close.

“Because; I’m scared that you won’t be here when I wake up.”, she admitted to him.

“I will always be with you my love. No matter you and I go, no matter what century we are in. I will ALWAYS be with you.””, he told her.

“That’s not the only thing I’m scared of. I have an appointment with Dr. Everett tomorrow, to find whether or not this baby is a boy or a girl. That’s why I’m scared to leave. I’m not saying that I don’t want to be with you. Because I do; God knows that I do. But; in terms of this baby, I have to stay here. But Edward I don’t want to! I want to be with you and the crew but I don’t know if I can risk it.”, she says to him.

“I know that you have your life and doctor here, my love. And I would never demand of you to leave if you aren’t comfortable. So if you must stay my love; then you should stay, Kyra.”, he replies.

“But Edward I don’t want to be alone! And I don’t want you to be alone either!”, she exclaimed as tears filled her eyes. He simply rocked her in his arms.

“Shhh…Hush my love…we will never be alone. I will never be without you and you without me, ever again. And when you are ready; I will bring you and our child home with me. Especially since we now have these amulets in our possession. We will make this work. I promise you that. But right now; you need your rest.”, he told her. His voice was soothing and calm.

She nodded in agreement. He smiled at her.

“Stay with me, until I leave for my appointment?”, she asked him.

“Of course my love. I am yours until the end of time, remember?”, he told her before placing a small kiss on the inside of her right wrist.

“And I’m yours Edward…I will always be yours…Until the end of time…”, she told him. He then kissed her with every ounce of fire and passion that he had in him.

She led him to her bedroom and as she fell asleep in his arms; he whispered to her, “I will protect you my love. Both of you…”

Edward was in for the fight of his life. But for the woman and the child that he loved more than life itself; it was a fight he was more than ready for.

***This was my most emotional chapter yet; so you’re being forewarned now. I’m gonna take a small break. But I will be back with Chapter 4!

😘

@txemrn @choicesficwriterscreations

#choices #choices fanfiction #choices tna #fanfic #khoicesbyk #pixelberry #choices stories you play #distant shores #edward mortemer #captain edward

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stillthewordgirl · 5 years

Text

LOT/CaptainCanary fic: (I Don’t Believe in) Destiny (Ch. 11 of 11)

Leonard Snart is back, finally pulled from the timestream where he's spent the last four years. But he wasn't alone, and the repercussions of that will echo through the Legends, the Time Bureau, and beyond.

And maybe, just maybe, they'll bring everything around full circle.

And here it is! I hope you enjoyed it. Many thanks to Pir8grl.

I may write (or have written) a few one-shot follow-ups. The first (did someone say CaptainCanaryBlazer?) will be posted tomorrow or Sunday.

Please note that I continued my own personal Mary Xavier headcanon. Forgive me the indulgence. ;)

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

Ch. Eleven: In a State of Grace

Leonard Snart is groggy. More than groggy, really. He feels like he’s been dreaming a very long time, and while it’s been a pleasant dream—something to do with Barry Allen—he feels like he needs to wake up.

But he can’t seem to open his eyes.

He’s not particularly comfortable, though, he thinks, consciousness prodding at him. He’s sort of sprawling in a semi-upright position, and one leg’s falling asleep. He really needs to wake up.

There’s a warm breath by his ear, then, as if the wish is granted. An amused whisper of “Leonard…”

He knows that voice. Sara. Yeah, he doesn’t want to ignore Sara. Not only is he quite stupidly in love with her (easy to acknowledge that, in a dream), Sara has knives. Lots of sharp, pointy knives.

Leonard opens his eyes.

Sara’s watching him, standing very close, amusement and relief warring with something deeper in her gaze. She’s wearing her white uniform, and she’s obviously been in a fight, from the bruise on her cheekbone and the few scratches he sees. A fight…

And it all comes back to him.

“Are you all right?” he asks sharply, sitting up and staring at her, ignoring the vertigo. “Sara…did…”

Sara shakes her head, but not in a negative. She holds up a hand and starts ticking points off on it patiently. “Druce is, apparently, gone,” she says. “And we won. The part of the Time Bureau that went over to Druce is under arrest by the other part. Ava isn’t a Time Master after all.”

Leonard remembers. “She was supposed to be,” he murmurs. “She was before. She chose otherwise this time.”

Sara stops, staring at him. “What?” she asks faintly, then shakes her head. “Not now…anyway, the Oculus exists again, although no one’s quite sure how to use it to see anything—or if it can be used to change anything. And the Time Bureau is building an outpost here, but it will be on a rotation of sorts. And…”

She leans over, looking at him, eyes bright and smile just a little shadowed. Leonard blinks up at her, wondering, expecting some sort of confession and trying to decide if he should make his first.

“And you’re in my chair,”

Oh.

He glances around, finally, registering that he’s sprawled in the captain’s chair on the Waverider bridge. Where, apparently, the Time Force had dropped him. Evidently it has a sense of humor.

“Um,” he manages, then attempts to regain his cool, smirking up at her. “Well, you did say you wanted me here.”

Sara’s eyes flash with laughter, but there’s a chorus of groans from the side, as well as a wolf whistle from what seems to be Charlie and the call of “too much information, Snart!” from a voice that’s clearly Mick’s. The other man moves closer as Leonard struggles to sit up a little more, and the two old friends study each other for a long moment before Mick grunts.

“Good work,” he says, turning away lest any feelings be aired. “You didn’t blow yourself up this time.”

“I didn’t blow myself up last time!” Leonard calls after him, getting flipped off in response. Between them, it’s nearly as good as a hug.

Better, maybe. Because it’s them.

Sara’s studying the rest of the peanut gallery with a mock scowl. “I thought I told all of you to wait outside,” she says, but with humor in her voice.

“Since when do we listen?” Nate calls out, and Nora giggles. Of all of them, Leonard thinks, she looks the worst for wear, a bit of a shiner about her eye and her arm in a sling—but even that’s not too bad. Raymond is hovering, clearly ready to defend her against all comers. Charlie’s leaning on Zari as if favoring a foot—although neither of them looks unhappy with the situation.

Sara makes a face at them and waits until they trail off the bridge, then turns back to Leonard, holding out a hand. He grabs it and lets her haul him to his feet—although he notes immediately that he’s not quite as creaky as he might have felt before.

And Sara notices…well, something, too. She studies him intently, eyes narrowed, as if to figure out if the Oculus did anything bad to him, and he smirks in return, waiting until he realizes she’s not going to say anything.

“I got the Time Force to take a few years off me—and do a few other things,” he tells her. “We’re a little closer now.” He shrugs. “It tried to offer me immortality, but frankly, I don’t want it.”

Sara blinks. “Ah,” she says faintly, “OK. Good.”

And then she reaches out, grabs his shirt, and pulls his lips down to hers.

When they finally make it off the ship and over to the bureau camp, Ava is standing there, lips pursed slightly, studying what seems to be a map. She tosses a smile their way, though, as Sara and Leonard approach

“Dr. Palmer and I found the old Oculus viewing chamber in the wreckage,” she says. “And we could indeed use it to see many things, past and present, though I think it’s going to need a lot of practice.” She shakes her head. “And it seems to have a mind of its own now. Quite recalcitrant.”

Both she and Sara look at Leonard, who smirks and folds his arms. “Think the Time Force got a little tired of being used,” he drawls. “Tracking history, that’s one thing. Manhandling it to suit yourself, that’s another. Time Masters thought they knew better than anyone else. They didn’t.”

Ava nods distractedly. “Well, no one’s changing anything except through old-fashioned legwork, I think.” She sighs, though she doesn’t seem unhappy. “Same as before.” She gives Sara a regretful glance. “Still. You’re sure you want to trust this to the bureau? To me?”

The doubt in her voice makes Sara’s heart hurt. Yes, Ava had been wrong about Druce, but she’d done the right thing in the end and she’d changed it all. She starts to tell her former lover that, but then another voice lifts, a voice that makes two of the three of them spin and stare.

“Well, you will have me.”’

Sara blinks. She and Ava glance at each other in disbelief, then look back at the brown-coated man who’s walking toward him, looking more like he had back in the first days of the Legends than the more uptight days of the bureau. There’s someone behind him, stopping to speak to another Time Bureau agent, but that seems extraneous when compared to a resurrected director/captain.

“Rip?” Sara asks faintly. “How…”

Something occurs to her, then, and she turns to stare at Leonard, who simply lifts both eyebrows at her.

“Mary gave me a lift,” Rip Hunter is saying as he reaches them. “Filled me in, too. I’ve been staying with Jonah since I had to run from Mallus.” He smiles at Sara. “I understand you lot weren’t even that far away for a time…but I needed a bit of a vacation.” He glances at Leonard. “Welcome back, Mr. Snart.”

Leonard nods to him, while Ava straightens formally after a moment of shock. “The bureau is yours again, director,” she says carefully. “I…”

“Oh, I don’t want it.” Rip beams at her, rubbing his hands together. “Not only do I not want to accidentally impress any more of the old ways of the Time Masters onto the new form of the Time Bureau, I find I much prefer…hmm…the freelancer lifestyle. But I know at least something of what we can do here.” He nods. “So, Director Sharpe, put me to work.”

Ava blinks at him, then directs him toward the Oculus viewing chamber, where Ray is studying the mechanism. But Sara’s suddenly registered a comment from earlier. “Mary,” she says quizzically. “Mary Xavier? But how did she get here?”

“Oh, you don’t think I marooned myself at the Refuge all the time, did you?” The person who’d been following Rip steps out around him as he turns, smiling at them. “No worries, the children are tended. But this is quite an amazing accomplishment, my dear Legends, and I thought congratulations were in order.” She studies Leonard a long moment, then nods. “Also, Mr. Snart, you made the right decision.” She glances at Ava. “As did you, Ms. Sharpe.”

Sara’s frowning, bothered in some way by the loose ends. “But how? Do you have a timeship?”

“Oh, I have means, dear.” Mary turns aside and toward the Waverider, where most of the other Legends are helping bureau members set up temporary buildings. She waves toward something at the other end of the site. “No worries.”

Sara squints at it, a little puzzled that she can’t quite seem to see it clearly. But it looks like a small building, not like any kind of ship she knows. “You traveled here in that? You and Rip?”

Mary’s started toward Mick and the others, but she turns back. “Oh, don’t worry about me, captain.” She winks. “It’s bigger on the inside.”

Leonard makes a strangled noise as she walks away, and Ava gulps. Sara glances at her in surprise, seeing the strangest expression on her ex’s face.

“If she asks me to travel with her,” Ava tell her fervently, “I’m going.”

What? Sara frowns at her. “You’re not usually into older women,” she says in puzzlement. “And travel?”

Leonard makes a sound of disbelief, then, and both he and Ava stare at Sara for a long moment, then look at each other with identical expressions of surprise.

Then Leonard, unexpectedly, laughs.

“Sara Lance’s type,” he mutters, smirking at Ava. “Badasses who are closet geeks.”

Sara’s not sure how Ava will take that, but the bureau director smiles a little. “You might have a point there,” she murmurs, glancing at Sara, who smiles back. They’re all right, then.

“Of course he does, love.” They all look around as John Constantine, accompanied by Gary, joins them. The warlock winks at them. “Geeks are the best. They have the most magnificent imaginations.”

Gary looks simultaneously delighted and ready to spontaneously combust, but John’s moving on. “I’m wondering if handsome here’s tricks with the time energy might have had any repercussions elsewhere, rattled any cages,” he says seriously, looking at Leonard. “Gonna head off for a bit and check it out.” He jerks his thumb at the scarlet Time Bureau agent and switches his gaze to Ava. “Can I borrow this one?”

Ava glances at Gary, then evidently decides the other agent does indeed want to be “borrowed.” She assents, and John gives them all a mock salute before turning on his heel and heading off, Gary trailing in his wake. Sara shakes her head.

“He’ll be back,” she says to Leonard. “He’d never say it, but I think John likes being a part of something.”

“Yes…” But Ava sounds a little uncertain and Sara raises her eyebrows. The bureau director sighs.

“I think I might have unintentionally poached a few of your team members,” she admits. “Again.”

Sara considers. “Nate?”

“He’s a historian, and the Oculus lets him study time in a whole new way. And Dr. Palmer is fascinated with the mechanism,” Ava tells her. “He’s already broached the subject of staying on and improving it.”

“And if Ray stays, Nora will stay,” Sara murmurs. Three more Legends gone, including an original. She glances at Leonard but decides not to ask…not yet.

“I didn’t mean to,” Ava tells her. “But…”

“But they’re grownups and this is the chance of a lifetime.” Sara smiles at her. “And now, I’m going to go tell Gideon that Rip’s back. I figure she should hear that from a friend.”

“Oh, god, yes.”

Leonard clears his throat. “I’d sorta like to see this viewing chamber myself,” he says diffidently. “Maybe I can persuade the Time Force to be a little less…recalcitrant.”

Ava gives him a slightly skeptical look but nods.

“All right,” she agrees. “Let me show you where it is.”

Sara watches those two pieces of her own personal history walk away, to all appearances getting along better than she’d ever dreamed, and turns back toward her ship, a smile on her lips.

Gideon’s reaction is…human. Very human. Sara, having delivered her news, watches the AI/android go from disbelief to skepticism to hope before she sets off to find her former captain, a woman on a mission.

Someone probably should have warned Rip, too, Sara thinks wryly. Perhaps Leonard will.

But probably not. It’s the least Rip deserves for letting them think he was dead. Sara may not fully be convinced that’s what had really happened, but apparently that’s what they’re pretending.

She’d made another promise earlier, though, and this seems like a good enough time to fulfill it. Sara puts a message through to STAR Labs in 2020 and waits for someone to pick up, wondering how Team Flash will react to the news of a resurrected nemesis.

But it’s not that resurrection that makes her jaw drop when someone finally appears on the viewscreen.

“Martin,” she breathes, hands tightening on the console. “How…”

Stein very clearly doesn’t seem to understand why Sara’s staring at him like she’s seen a ghost. He smiles at her, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling, looking just the same and very much alive.

Leonard had gotten the Oculus to “change a few things,” he’d said. Sara’s pretty sure, now, that she knows what at least two of them were.

“Captain Lance,” Stein says. “How good to hear from you! It’s been a while.” He pauses, then, taking in her expression. “Whatever is the matter?”

Sara closes her mouth abruptly. “Nothing,” she says, perhaps a bit hastily. “I just…I didn’t know you were there. At STAR Labs.”

Stein still eyes her as if wondering what’s going on. “Well, my recovery took a while,” he says slowly, watching her. “I’m not going to be running around pretending to be a space ranger again! Well, probably not. But while I’m enjoying retirement, I need to get out sometimes. Team Flash can use the help, and I’m not getting under Clarissa’s feet.”

Sara seizes on that. “And how is Clarissa?”

Stein beams at her. “Oh, very well. She’s finally talked me into a vacation, did I tell you that last time? The Bahamas. I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself.”

He frowns at that a moment, then continues. “And Lily and little Ronnie are well, too. He went right from walking to running! Jax has already bought him a toddler-sized football.”

Sara laughs. “And Jax? How is he?”

“He’s fine. Very much enjoying college.” Stein leans toward the screen confidentially. “I think there’s a young lady, actually. But I try not to pry. It’s difficult, given how long we knew so much of what the other was thinking.” He pauses, studying her again. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Sara tells him. “Yes, I am. Very ‘all right.’” She smiles at him. “Would you pass along a message to Team Flash, especially Cisco?” At his assent, she continues. “Tell them...ask them to track down Lisa Snart.

“And to tell her that her brother, he’s back. Leonard Snart is alive.”

When Sara finally walks back outside, Leonard is sitting on the ramp leading into the Waverider, watching the scene in front of him. After a moment, Sara drops down next to him, scanning the view herself.

Ava is in her element, organizing and directing, her map of the Vanishing Point now spread out on a portable table, and she’s pointing out something to Mick, of all people, who doesn’t even look too irritated. Ray and Nate are standing there with them, arguing what seems to be good-naturedly about something. Nora is talking to…is that Mary?

There’s no sign of Zari and Charlie, and Sara makes a mental note of that in her near-constant tally of where her Legends are—though she suspects she knows. The adrenaline of battle can bring out all manner of previously ignored desires. But before she can mention it, Leonard speaks up.

“That gonna be a problem?” he asks, tone thoughtful as he gazes out at the buzz of activity. Sara looks too, but she’s not quite sure what he’s referring to.

“Pardon?”

This time, he points. Sara looks…and smiles a little as she sees where.

“I think you might have lost your ship,” Leonard says, nodding to where Gideon is talking avidly to Rip not so far away. The former captain looks rather befuddled, but neither can he take his eyes off her. And the AI, for her part, has a self-satisfied little smirk on her face.

“Oh, I think it’s fine.” Sara smirks as he lifts an eyebrow at her. “Gideon,” she says with satisfaction, “I’m pretty sure, has plans for Rip.”

Leonard blinks, then looks back at the pair. “Oh,” he says. “Plans.”

“Right. And it’s one thing to be an AI in a ship with a captain who’s your leader and commander...”

“And another to be a humanoid AI with free will who has every intention of jumping that former captain’s bones.” Leonard’s lips twitch. “You go, Gideon.”

“Right. So, I figure the Waverider is probably still the Legends’. Gideon’s one of us, after all, and Rip says he prefers more freedom at this point. And we can still visit the Vanishing Point and the Bureau...” Sara’s voice trails off.

She glances at Leonard, studying that slightly younger face. It’s not so much different, really. The hair’s a little darker, but apparently, he’d gone silver early anyway. There might be a few fewer lines. Maybe a few fewer scars.

“Is it ‘us?’” she asks abruptly, looking back at the Vanishing Point. “Is it ‘we?’” A beat. “Are you staying, Leonard? Are you part of this team again, for good?”

He’s silent long enough that she looks back, unable to wait any longer. But Leonard Snart, her confident, arrogant crook, is studying her with something uncertain in his eyes.

“As one of the team?” he asks, so quietly she can barely hear him.

What is he…

Then Sara laughs as she realizes what he’s getting at. Her crook isn’t quite as confident as he appears.

“I love you, Snart,” she tells him, wanting, needing, to have the words out there. “I want you to stay. I want you to be lover and teammate and partner. Is that enough?”

Leonard’s expression goes rapidly from caution to stunned silence to satisfaction to…to something Sara can’t quite define. “For now,” he tells her in a low voice, continuing before she can even wonder. “Quite a ship you have, captain. Permission to stay aboard?”

“Permanently?” Sara asks him archly, getting a smirk in return.

“Well,” Leonard drawls, looking thoughtful. “Wouldn’t mind a bit of a break for a bit.” He pauses. “I’d like to meet your sister…and your dad, if you don’t think that’d end in bloodshed.”

Sara stares at him, parsing the words, which just don’t seem to make sense. She’d told him about how Laurel and her father had died, she knows she did, but…

But she’d also talked to Stein and Rip not so long ago.

“How…” she says faintly.

“I don’t know exactly how—or why—the Time Force chose to grant my requests, just that it did.” Leonard’s looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “Shouldn’t be like anything else ever happened now, to them. Don’t know if we’ll remember. Might fade in time.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care! Len…” Sara can’t find the words.

So instead, she just leans over and kisses him. And he kisses her back, there at the Vanishing Point, where they’d kissed the first time, on the day when Sara had thought any hope of “me and you” was lost forever.

After a moment, Leonard breaks the kiss just long enough to mutter, “Sara?”

“Hmmm?”

“Love you, too.”

I don't believe in destiny Or the guiding hand of fate I don't believe in forever Or love as a mystical state

I don't believe in the stars or the planets Or angels watching from above But I believe there's a ghost of a chance We can find someone to love And make it last

“Ghost of a Chance,” Rush

#captaincanary #legends of tomorrow #I don't believe in destiny #sara x leonard #LOT fic

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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antifamutantdown replied to your post:

Thanks to a friend I got my grubby little hands on...

Kalen… You must review the rest I can’t do this anymore

So far the only other ones I’ve read are X-Men #1 and Marauders #1, and I have very little thoughts on them!

My X-Men #1 thoughts can be summed up as cool space house, Krakoan dish soap is neat idea but also gross, we don’t need to see that, why is Havok there, why is Havok anywhere, die Havok die, yay Gabe! Its so weird that I like megalomaniacal actually canon despot and father killer Gabriel Summers better than Alex but like, in his defense Corsair is a shitty father, the Shi’ar Empire is a shitty empire, and like, spending a decade entombed on an asteroid while Xavier mindwipes everyone into forgetting you ever even existed would make anyone cranky, also like, could be worse, at least he’s not Alex. But also, why is he talking like that, its so weird and unnecessary, and also also, I do need SOME context for why he’s suddenly bbq-ing on the moon with his brothers and dad like he never once flambeed said dad like he’s currently searing those steaks, like....did he just Get Over Everything or did Xavier give him a homicidal-otomy before sticking his consciousness back in a shiny new body? I need answers!

But also lolol at him trolling Logan, even if it was in that weird ‘yo, Shakespeare’s dead, we don’t have to talk like this anymore’ kinda way. But also, Teen Cable calling Scott Dad and Jean Mom and asking them if he can trade guns with Raza and finally getting a chance to be parented the way Cable’s always deserved IS MY EVERYTHING, WHY AM I SO WEAK, and him and Rachel getting to be actual siblings and them all FINALLY having a chance to be an actual, somewhat normal FAMILY, like, this is the literal first time in any of their histories that they’ve all been together and just...enjoying a meal together, its....ugh. This is the good food. THIS is the food I’ve been waiting for. But now plz hurry up and tell me if they’re all being mind controlled by Evil Chucky, this is highly critical information and I need it and want it, please can I have it.

Meanwhile, my Marauders #1 thoughts can be summed up as:

Kitty being all yo-ho-yo-ho a pirate’s life for me in a sailboat is random as fuck, I don’t care about the story’s explanation, it just is. Also a million snores to the OH NOES, AM I EVEN A MUTANT AT ALL plot that I had hoped died with the Neo and all the other nonsense Claremont plot bunnies that never needed to be brought to fruition. I am TIRED. I do not CARE. Points to Bobby for making the Only Valid Top Joke, nobody needs to make any others ever, but minus those same points for the random switch of the Pyro that is gay and has slept with Bobby and has Sexual Tension with him for the Pyro that was basically just dead for twenty years, juuuuuuust in time for Bobby and the Not Gay Pyro to be teammates in the same book whereas the ‘Bobby just hit that fairly recently and you’d think this merited followup’ Pyro is once more, nowhere to be found. I am SUSPICIOUS.

But also, death times infinity to the equally inexplicable plot point of Why Is Kitty In Charge When Ororo, Whomst Canonically Is Like The Literal Best Leader The X-Men Have Ever Had and Also Has Actual Queen and Goddess On Her Resume....is like....literally standing right there. We get it. Kitty is amazing, she is the most amazingest maybe!mutant who ever did live, even if she’s not even a mutant or whatever. Like, I actually like Kitty, but part of that like is me maintaining that she would be equally Valid as a character even if she’s NOT the Most Important Maybe!Mutant in all the land, even when she is not on land, but is being a pirate on a sailboat. I just do not get this constant obsessive need to push her as the ultimate successor of Xavier’s dream, like, the figurehead of the next generation of X-Men....when the older generations of X-Men ARE STILL RIGHT HERE.

Its okay to just have her be a super genius spy computer hacker and also canon ninja ghost girl! She doesn’t also have to be Head Honcho In Charge Of All The X-Men Even Though We Refuse To Render a Hard Verdict On Whether Or Not She’s Canonically Old Enough To Drink Yet. We promise to be impressed by her regardless! I am TIRED. I do not CARE. Let Ororo be the leader she’s always been and always should be, instead of just having her stand behind Punky Brewster: The College Years and co-sign her Important Declarations with an “I’m With Her” T-shirt because lol why even give Ororo dialogue if you don’t need to, am I right, X-writers?

Like....you put Kitty in charge of a lineup that consists of Ororo, Bobby and Bishop, literally ALL of whom are older than her, more powerful than her, have decades more experience than her, AND have experience being team leaders themselves (yes, even BOBBY, albeit his experience wasn’t with an ‘official’ team lineup, but its well established that he was defacto leader of his oddball lineup during the O:ZT era, and he managed to get them all the way to the Final Boss Fight and win the day without a single one of the mutants under his care kicking the bucket in the betwixt time which is like, more than 90% of mutant leaders can say about their team lineups).

I’M JUST SAYING that like, even if you want Kitty to be team leader because she’s obviously qualified, like I’m not even disputing that, I’m just being like bwuh, why THIS particular team though? Its so random and like, none of these characters need the girl they all used to babysit to hold their hands and tell them where to go next and who to zap with some of the most potent mutant powers in all of mutant-dom, all of which carry a degree of responsibility that she’s never had to struggle with herself and never will because like....she can’t accidentally wipe a city off the map when she sneezes.

LOOK I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS ABOUT THIS PARTICULAR PLOT POINT THAT’S BARELY EVEN A PLOT POINT, I just...I don’t get Ultimate Boss Lady Kitty Pryde. I mean, again, its NOT remotely about whether or not she’s capable of the job, she’s more than qualified and competent out the wazoo, I just don’t get the seeming NEED they have to push her as Big Bad Boss Lady when again...Ororo is STANDING RIGHT THERE. It doesn’t make SENSE.

Also, the colorist on this issue SUCKETH THE BIG ONES and needs to go back to coloring school until they can learn to shade and color Ororo’s skin tones appropriately. She should not look like she and Kitty go to the same tanning salon and then get called away to save the day before anything close to a tan is even gotten. Like, what in all the fucks in the great kingdom of Here’s A Lotta Fucks, was up with that fucking colorist. Who hurt you? Whomever told them it was okay for Ororo to look like that deserves a swift kick in the Oh No You Don’t’s.

Okay there you go! My review of the other two that I’ve read so far. Last week was pretty shitty for me so I didn’t even try to read Excalibur #1, because all I knew is it had Apocalypse ‘on the team’ and I noped in the other direction whilst saying, Lord, I do not have the patience this week to see what the fuck they come up with to justify Apoca-freaking-lypse just kicking it around the island and then being all yeah sure, let’s totally team up to go have magical shenanigans in Otherworld, like, I’m sure there’s a reason, but I do not have the brain cells to spare right now on the off chance that the reason is so dumb, multiple of my brain cells simply give up and willfully expire on the spot, rather than try and make sense of the idiocy.

Sooooo, I could just not be giving that premise enough credit, or I could be giving it too much. Time will tell. As for the rest, that about wraps up the current state of my thoughts on all things Dawn of X, with my ultimate takeaway being mostly cool stories so far dudes, but also, just FYI, I refuse to let myself get too too invested in any of this yet, on the off chance that Evil Chucky ISN’T riding shotgun in everyone’s brains and occasionally taking the wheel to use them all to make weird ass decisions like life is one giant game of Grand Theft Auto for him. Because if he’s NOT playing Gepetto to their Pinocchios, there are some WEIRD ASS character beats and story choices going down, and I actually Dislike instead of Like, so making a ruling on just how much of this is Evil Chucky vs how much of this is just Shitty Writing is like....pretty fucking key and I would like enough info to render a verdict on that matter, like, post fucking haste, so plz feel free to stand and deliver on that any day now, Marvel.

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amyhusmann · 3 years

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Explaining War To My Kids

I’m at a loss, really. Let’s begin there. Because I can’t explain the horrors that are happening right now in the Ukraine to an adult. So how to explain it to my kids who are nine and eleven years old?

I pride myself as a parent that my kids are pretty savvy on history and geo-politics. They can find the Ukraine on any map, and can tell you who Putin is. Xander, who is in the fifth grade, can tell you the countries, in order, that the Nazis invaded as well as the causes that lead up to the French Revolution.

Today at lunch Xavier asked why Russia would invade the Ukraine. We gave him the easy synopsis: that Ukraine was once a part of the Soviet Union, but has been its own country for thirty years. As an independent nation, it has tried to be more like Europe and less like Russia and that has made Putin mad because he wants it to be more like Russia, so Putin invaded Ukraine.

But that doesn’t really tell the story. That doesn’t really convey just how bad things are.

For as long as I can remember, I have told my kids that war is bad and should be avoided if at all possible. I’m not a passivist. And I know that sometimes ‘if at all possible’ just isn’t. But I want my kids to understand that war is not something that should ever be sought or glorified. Because anytime bullets are fired, there is a human cost that goes beyond the geo-political.

Last night, while reading on the AP news website about the war in the Ukraine, I screen-shotted a series of photos that had me trembling as a mother. This morning, when Xander snuggled with me, I shared with him these pictures, as a way to explain the deadly toll of the Putin invasion.

The photos were taken by a journalist, Evgeniy Maloletka, in the Ukrainian city of Mariupol, on 4 Mar, 2022. The army of Putin was shelling the city, but the photos weren’t of bombs blowing up buildings. The pictures showed a man, racing into a hospital, clutching a small child in his arms. The child was wrapped in a bloody blanket. The mother raced desperately behind, a look of fear on her face. The next photos showed the mom and the man mourning over the life-less body of the child. The hospital could not save him. The look of sheer anguish on the mother’s face, as she sat, inconsolable by her grieving boyfriend is something that, as a mother, I dread for myself. The agony of losing a child knows no words. This child was 18 months old. His name was Kirill. He was killed by the shelling of the invading army.

The last photo I showed to my son was the body of Kirill on a stretcher, surrounded by hospital staff trying, unsuccessfully, to save his life.

As a mom, I struggle with how to explain to my kids how bad this war is. How utterly unnecessary and unjust. And my decision to show to my son the pictures of a dead child may make any of my three readers uneasy. But this is the face of war that I want him to understand. Not the geo-politics, not the rhetoric. But the unbearable cost in the lives of the innocents who are caught in the bullets and mortars and bombs.

#standwithukraine #stand with ukraine

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bangkokjacknews · 3 years

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Vietnam's never-ending bomb disposal problem

Vietnam's bomb disposal squad. It has been estimated that it will take 300 years to clear the land of Vietnam of all the weapons dropped and left behind so many years ago. Disposing of deadly munitions on the former frontline seems an impossible task, but there may be hope. Somewhere in a village in the central province of Quang Tri, a muffled yet powerful explosion erupts, followed immediately by another, shaking the ground beneath us. Sparks shower from the treetops like arrows aimed at the sky, then a black plume of smoke. Several American bombs have just exploded, more than forty years after the end of the war. Local people are used to these controlled detonations, which are carried out at least twice a week. The war is long over, but the fight seems never-ending for the dozens of mine-clearance experts who struggle every day to clear the region from the millions of bombs, landmines, grenades, shells, mortars and other unexploded ammunitions that were dropped on the region. In this part of the globe, these deadly devices are still killing people on a daily basis. The bombs that the team from the Norwegian People’s Aid (NPA) have just destroyed are no longer a threat. But here, everybody remembers a man named Ngo Thien Khiet, who was killed by one of the devices at the age of 45 while trying to disarm it. He left behind a wife and two sons. In its 15 years of clearing the former battlefield, the NPA had never suffered a single accident, so what happened to Khiet shocked everyone working on the project and was a costly, painful reminder of how dangerous and indiscriminate these weapons are. Khiet’s partner, Nguyen Van Hao, who was also hit by the blast, recently recovered from his injuries and immediately decided to return to this insidious, hot and humid battlefield that seems to refuse to forget the tragedy that took place between 1955 and 1975. Twenty years of atrocities that nobody can forget: the central province of Quang Tri was the front line during the Vietnam War, or “the Resistance War against America”, as we call it here in Vietnam. Its marshy land was plowed for over a decade by a deadly rain of metal and fire, and 80 percent of the province is still a minefield. Quang Tri is the place to go to understand the madness and the violence of the American bombings during the war in an era when the region was split in two by the “demilitarized zone” (DMZ) between North and South Vietnam. Hemmed between a 1,000 miles of Annamite mountain range and the vast South China Sea (which Vietnam calls the East Sea), Quang Tri is only 30 miles wide: a tiny piece of land that is the most heavily bombed place in history, even compared to Germany in World War II. War victims in a country at peace Ho Van Lai, 26, was not even born when the war ended, but he suffered its vicious backlash. It's written all over his body. Every missing part of him tells the cruel story this conflict left behind. At the age of 10, one of those unexploded bombs detonated and ripped off his right arm and leg, as well as his left hand and foot. He has only one eye left, and his one good eye continues to deteriorate as time goes by. Doctors say there is no cure. In a humble house in Gio Linh Town, Lai lives with his mother. “I stepped on a bomb and it exploded when I was playing in the sand with three friends. Two of them died and one is still alive,” he simply says. This is what happens when you live in a “polluted area”, as the NGOs call the region. No one really knows how many people have been injured or killed by UXOs in Vietnam since the war ended, but the best estimates are at least 105,000, including 40,000 deaths. Most of the victims are poor farmers -- perhaps not surprisingly, since most of the fighting and bombings took place in rural areas and rice paddies: the most common sites of explosions. “Farmers here often find pieces of metal, sometimes bombs or ammunition, and they simply toss them aside and continue their work,” said Le Van Minh, Community Liaison Officer at MAG Vietnam. It's not necessarily because of the lack of awareness, he says. Many local farmers admit that they still very much fear of the risk that one day they may accidentally swing their hoes into one of those leftover clustered bombs, or "bombies" as they call, even after all these years. But for people who were desperate for farm land to make a living, though barely enough, they would defy all the risks to reclaim it. Nowadays, the pattern of victims has changed, from those who stumble on munitions accidentally to the scrap-metal scavengers who go out looking for them in full knowledge of the danger. And in recent years, the casualty numbers have steadily declined thanks to the relentlessness of several NGOs specialized in mine clearance, such as the NPA and the Mine Advisory Group (MAG). Day after day, in the muddy rice fields and in every corner of every village, they seek out and destroy these lethal pieces of rusted metal. Peace fighters In the early morning, a dozen young men and women are standing by the side of the road in Cam Lo Township. All dressed in beige uniforms, they listen to the supervisors, armed only with shovels, ropes, colored stakes and metal detectors. This is their security briefing, where everybody has to give their blood type and listen to the security rules under the surveillance of a paramedic. On this battlefield, a single mistake could be fatal. Slowly, the sun is rising as the team quietly walks in column to the polluted site. In the distance, explosions break the silence: “That's probably the NPA team destroying something,” a teammate says. Today’s clearance area covers about several square kilometers of paddle fields in a rural town of Cam Lo, right in the middle of Quang Tri. Around here, the team has already found one mortar and two cluster bombs. No doubt that today, they will find more. As they comb the field, detectors make a rhythmic, high pitched chatter. Regularly, one of them gives a loud squawk: “It may be a bomb, or may be just a piece of shrapnel,” says one of the officers. The smallest one that the team has just found after an hour of searching is among the worst. It takes a kind of perverse ingenuity to design such things: an airplane drops a mother pod, an elongated canister that springs open in midair. As many as 600 individual mini-bombs, smaller than a baseball, fly out in all directions, blanketing an area the size of three football fields and story first shared by Bangkok Jack, come over and join us, shredding anything in their path. As the unexploded ones rust away in the ground, some become inert, while others become unstable. You never know. “There’s a footprint to a cluster-bomb strike pattern that’s different from any other kind of blast,” Resad Junuzagic, NPA country director, explains. “If you find one or two bombs, you can assume there are others in the immediate area.” It helps, he said, that the U.S. Air Force has turned over many of its maps tracking the planned bombing runs, although pilots had discretion to drop bombs wherever they saw fit. Time is slowly passing by in the field. A few cluster bombs have been found. They are too instable to be removed, so they will be destroyed on site. Alone in the middle of the ground, a bomb disposal expert is setting explosives on the UXOs and covering the holes with sand bags, while the rest of the team evacuates the area and warns local people of the impending explosion with megaphones. “4…3…2…1… Fire!” shouts the team leader, before the deadly devices explode under the indifferent gaze of a few cows. Members of the MAG international clearance team destroy a stockpile of ammunition in Cam Lo District, Quang Tri Province, Vietnam. Photo by VnExpress/Xavier Bourgois Organizing the counterattack… for the long term. All the experts agree: it will be nigh-on impossible to remove all the remnants of the war in the region. But to organize the response, the different NGOs working on the ground, local people and the authorities have to work together. This is how they came to start the “RENEW” project in 2001, mostly funded by the NPA and the U.S. State Department, who coordinate the all the organizations involved and manage a huge database where all the clearance operations are recorded. But this is also a matter of risk education, especially for children, who visit every day the small Mine Action center museum, where they will learn the different types of explosives and how to react in front of those, while doing role-playing games. On the ground, these kinds of initiatives have had clear results. You just have to follow one of the emergency response teams. In some villages in the region, cluster bombs and mortars are buried just a meter from the road side and when the men in beige turn up, they are quickly joined by locals with numerous reports of suspicious devices buried under bushes, sand and even cemeteries that are still waiting to be cleared. It has been estimated that it will take 300 years to clear the land of Vietnam of all the weapons dropped and left behind so many years ago. And just by following the MAG and NPA teams for a day shows the incredible amount of work that still need to be done. "We are very confident with our approach and progress... and we expect to finish our job by 2020, so it's a five-year-period," says Junuzagic, the NPA director, as he was talking about the plan of getting rid of the UXOs entirely from the fields of Quang Tri. "It's a big difference when hundreds of years could be reduced to five, or even six or seven years." For very long time, people have spoken of removing every last piece of ammunitions and ordnances from the fields of Vietnam - an idea that largely remains, until at least the couple of years ago, a wishful thinking, an impossible task. Now, perhaps there is hope. NPA, MAG, and other NGOs have destroyed more than 370,000 UXOs over an area of 5,600 hectares (13,838 acres) in Quang Tri since 1998. No one knows how many war remnants still lie under this war-torn land, but for Junuzagic, he knows that it's time for him and his team to finally finish their supposedly "never-ending" job. Read the full article

#VietnamNews Vietnam

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tiemeupspidey · 7 years

Text

Feelings

Series: Tom Holland Imagines

Relationship: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: SMUT ASF. Also mentions of Domestic Abuse

Request by: @talia-grace-daniels Imagine based on the song Feelings by Maroon 5 :) Also Incorporated @delish-duck ‘s request for the reader having an abusive boyfriend and Tom being protective

Word Count: 3,500

A/N: People fr need to stop coming after me in my messages. I know I write smut. I’m 20 years old and write this stuff for people who actually want to read it. That’s why I put warnings before the imagine starts so I don’t have to deal with messages but I still get them.. -.-

I’M 20 LEMMA WRITE MY SEXUAL THOUGHTS BOUT TOM. BYE.

ps. I used the word trousers because its fun to say? Let me live lmao

*Slides down the pole throwing the smut to you hungry darlings*

[Reader’s POV]

“Fucking asshole” you mutter throwing your phone onto your bed. Tears were falling down your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. Your boyfriend, well ex boyfriend now had been cheating on you for months.

You caught him fucking her when you stopped by his apartment a day early. He thought you weren’t coming back so soon. You just got back from visiting the states and came home to heartbreak. It never occurred to you that he would be cheating on you. Everything felt fine and nothing seemed wrong.

Wiping off the rest of your running makeup you wash your face. Looking at yourself was so pathetic. You were too blind to see his deceit and look at you now. Crying over someone you thought you loved. Letting out a sigh you head back towards your bed.

Picking up your phone you click the home button. Using you Touch ID to open it up and click on the phone app. Scrolling through your contacts you click on your best friends contact. Putting the phone to your ear you hear the dialing tone. After a short few rings it stops.

“Hello love, what’s up?” Tom’s voice fills your ear making you smile. Tears spill over and you whimper from the pain in your chest forming again.

“Why are you crying?Please don’t tell me that twat hit you again…” You could hear shuffling in the background and voices. Shit. Did you interrupt him at an interview?

“H-He was ch-cheating on me Tom..” voice breaking as you wipe the tears with your sweater sleeve. The wool of your sweater absorbing your tears quickly.

“I’ll be over in ten okay? Drink some raspberry tea, I know it will calm you down like always” he suggests to you, your body getting up instantly to head to the kitchen.

Heading down the stairs you walk straight to your kitchen. Flicking the switch, the kitchen illuminates with light. Walking over to the kettle you lift it taking it to the sink. Raising the handle the water flows outs into the sink. Clicking the button the lid lifts up. Placing it under the stream of water you wait for it to fill up.

Turning the water off you shut the lid. Reaching over you set it back on its heating plate. Pressing the button making it turn red indicating it’s heating up. Opening up your cabinet you pick a mug out of the plethora you had.The mug you picked had a map on it saying “I haven't been everywhere but it’s on my list.” Opening your tea tin you pull out a bag.

Dropping the tea into the mug you wait for the kettle to whistle. Pulling up your Instagram you start deleting photos of you and your ex. Every delete cracking your heart more and more. Tear droplets falling onto your screen. You stared at one of the pictures from your one year anniversary.

Your tears get wiped away making you come back to reality. The kettle was whistling loudly into the kitchen. Looking up your eyes meet concerned brown eyes. Jumping from your seat you tackle Tom in a hug. His arms wrapping around you holding you close. Your legs wrap around his waist when he lifts you up.

Tears fell onto his skin as you cried into his neck. His thumb rubbing the back of your head as he sways side to side. You hear the kettle whistling die down, water pouring shortly after. The smell of raspberry hits your nose making you look up. Tom was holding your mug with a smile on his face.

He sits the two of you down in the living room on the couch. Your knees on either side of his legs. Unwrapping your arms from his neck you sit on his thighs. He hands you the tea kissing you on the forehead. Taking a sip of the tea you let out a content sigh.

“Love.. you know I told you to tell me when he hits you..” Tom’s voice trails off as he sees the bruises on your legs and arm.

“They were just accidents..” you take another sips not making eye contact with Tom. His fingers brush against the purple blotched skin making you wince. The one on your arm was a light blue and yellow.

“They’re not accidents, he hurts you Angel.. a man shouldn’t lay his hands on a woman like that, especially if he loves her” Tom’s warm hand cups your cheek, a small smile gracing your trembling lips. You knew he was right, they weren’t accidents.

The door bangs open startling you at the sound. Setting your mug down on the coaster you hear footsteps coming in your direction. Tom’s hands wrap around your waist pulling you close to him. Your body trembling in his arms. He kisses your head setting you behind him as he stands up.

“Why in the fuck is an Audi in the driveway? You think you can just dump me that easily? I know where you God damn liv-“

“T-Tom I’m scared, he has a key..” you whimper holding onto his hand.

“Why the fuck is he here?” Xavier sneers glaring at Tom, his arms crossing in front of his chest. He sees you behind Tom, eyes narrowing in anger.

“H-He is h-“ Xavier goes to reach for you but Tom blocks him tackling him to the ground. Xavier struggles but Tom presses his forearm to his neck.

“I suggest you get the fuck out, If you as so much come near her I will fucking know, and I will find your ass and beat the life out of you.. no one touches my girl like that got it?” Tom’s body was shaking with anger as he added more pressure to Xaviers neck. Xavier coughs nodding, Tom lets go of him standing up.

“You’re the one who cheated you prick!” you shout as he takes off running out of the house. The house echoes with the bang of the door. Tom grabs ahold of you pulling you into his chest. He held you there for what seemed like forever. You loved being in his arms, it was so damn comforting.

“I have a suggestion.. why don’t you come with me to this function, stay with me for a while just incase he does come back because I don't want him hurting you again..” He tilts your chin up to look at him. Nodding your head you give him a small weak smile. It hurt to smile but he eases your pain.

“What do I have to wear?” you ask walking towards the stairs. Tom follows you up the stairs telling you about the event. The two of you go into your closet and pick out a dress you had.

“Wear this, I love this dress on you” Tom takes a dress off the hanger it flowed down to the floor. Looking at the dress brings up a memory of going to prom with Tom in highschool. You still couldn’t believe you had the dress.

It was a black floor length dress that had a slit up to your right thigh. The dress had long sleeves but a plunging neckline. Expensive but it was an investment so you could wear it in the future. Tom hooks the hanger on the door while you make your way to the bathroom.

Tom sat on the counter talking to you while you did your makeup. Laughter filled the air as he made stupid jokes. You curled your hair and braided the sides pinning them behind your head. Tugging at the braids to make them a little looser.

“Here’s the dress, I’ll go pack your bag then we can head to my place so I can get dressed” Tom leaves so you can get dressed. Closing the door behind him you slip the dress of the hanger. Pulling your shorts down you let them fall to the floor. Taking off your sweater you let it fall to the floor.

Stepping into the dress you slip it up your body. Sliding your arms through the sleeves you adjust your braless boobs in the dress. Lifting your hair that got stuck in the dress it cascades down your back in lose curls. Walking out of the bathroom you slip on your heels.

Walking in to the bedroom you see Tom going through your clothes. A suitcase was laid open with clothes folded in there. His back was to you as he looked at your closet. Hopefully he didn’t see anything that fit him and would take it. He still has Zendaya’s leather jacket at his house.

Placing your hand on his shoulder he jumps a bit turning around. His jaw opening slightly at the sight of you. Eyes traveling down your body and back up. A smile replaced on his face as his eyes met your done up ones, the fake lashes feeling heavy.

“You look stunning” he takes your hand lifting it up. Pressing a kiss to your hand , his lips warming the spot. A blush tinting your cheeks.

“Thank you Tom” the smile you had felt so good after everything that’s happened. That’s why you love Tom, he always knows how to pick you up when you’re down.

“Alright love,I’ve packed a weeks worth of clothes.. Lets get going yeah?”

“Tom who is this lovely girl next to you?” the interviewer asks making the cameraman angle the camera at you..

“She’s my girlfriend, we’ve been best friends since we were kids” Tom’s statement making your heart stop. You look up at him trying to make sure you heard him correctly.

“How long have you two been dating?”

“T-Tom”

“Just for a while is all, c’mon darling lets go inside okay?” Tom waves to the camera pulling you along the carpet. Your heart was pounding in your chest as the two of you headed towards the doors. Cameras were flashing as the two of you walked. Tom waving to everyone as he passed by with a smile on his face.

“So are we going to talk about what happened tonight?” you ask as Tom drives down the winding road. His hand has been holding yours since you two got in the car. The car ride to his house felt like forever but it wasn’t that far.

“I.. I said that because I’ve always had feelings for you and I can't push them away anymore.. It pained me to see the bruises on your bod-“

“Tom pl-“

“No please let me finish..” he looks at you pulling into his garage. The car stops making your nerves spike up again. Before he could say another word you get out of the car quickly.

Your heels clicking against the ground as you headed towards the door. You were a little wobbly from the wine you had at the venue. Tom’s hand grabs yours turning you to look at him. He walks to you making you back up against the door. His hands slide up your body achingly slow. The warmth of his hands spreads through your cheeks. He cups your cheeks in his hands making you look at him.

“As I was saying.. Seeing the bruises on your body since you started dating him has killed me on the inside, your smile has changed since you’ve been with him and it’s like your putting up a fake one trying to show everything is okay when it’s now.. whenever I’m with you I see that genuine beautiful smile I love so much and I-“

Grabbing Tom’s face you smash your lips onto his. The kiss full of want and need, yet it felt so loving as he pulled your body closer. His hands slide down to your ass giving it a squeeze. A small moan escapes you as he grinds himself against you.You leg instinctively rising and wrapping around his waist.

Lifting you up you wrap your legs around his waist. Your dress making it easy to do so. He opens the door walking in and kicking it shut. Your lips traveling down his jawline slowly, a groan emits out of him turning you on. Your hand tugging his head back lightly, fingers lost in his curls.

Tom takes you into a room setting you down by the bed. His hands slide your dress off of your shoulders. Kissing down your body as he pulled it all the way down. Your thighs clamping together as he kissed his way back up. His breath against your skin making you curl your toes.

Lifting you up he lays you down on the bed. His hand reaches up to his tie pulling on it to loosen it. The look he was giving you as he undid his tie made your pussy throb with anticipation. Tom’s eyes were darkening with arousal as they scanned your body on the bed.

Your heartbeat was picking up as Tom started unbuttoning his white button up shirt. With each button coming undone the more of his skin showed. Your eyes watching as his abs were on display when he opened his shirt completely. Letting it fall to the floor behind him his biceps flex slightly. He reaches down taking his belt off.

The belt slides out of the loops with ease but some how turning you on how he looked hot holding a belt. Opening his hand he drops the belt onto the floor. Kneeling down he grips your legs pulling you to the edge. The only thing that separated the two of you was your black lace panties.

Tom hooks his fingers pulling them down your legs and throwing them to the ground. You tried covering the dark splotches that stained your skin. His lips press against the bruises almost as if he’s trying to kiss away the pain. He kissed each bruise then made his way further between your legs. Tom spreads your legs open biting the inside of your thigh.

Your head tilts back once Tom’s tongue slides up your slit slowly. His hands tightly holding your hips in place as he pleases you. A moan escapes your lips as he inserts two fingers inside of you pumping slowly. His tongue flicking against your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“T-Tom” you gasp as he hums against your clit. The vibrations felt like electricity shooting through your system, Your chest was raising up and down quicker. Stomach tightening as his fingers curled inside you.

Curling his fingers in a come hither motion your legs start to shake. Sitting up you rest against your forearms looking down at him. His eyes staring into yours which made your heart stop for a second. He looks so damn hot eating you out while looking at you.

Taking your lip between your teeth you tangle your fingers into his curls. A moan comes form Tom when you tug on his curls. His eyes closing and hand gripping your thigh tighter. The fingers inside you rubbing against your g-spot making you let out shaky breaths.

“P-Please I need you Tom.. so badly” whining as you grip his hair tighter from the knot forming in your stomach. He kisses the inside of your thighs as he takes his fingers out of your clenching pussy.

Letting go of his hair he stands up reaching for the button on his trousers. A bulge prominent from how aroused he is. You go to reach for his pants but he stops you. Looking at him confused he just gets undressed. Once fully naked he scoots you back getting onto the bed. He settles himself between you ,forearms on either side of your head.

Your hair was against the mattress ,waves looking like a windy morning at the beach. Tom kisses from your jaw down to the base of your neck. His lips sucking at the skin making your heart rate erratic. The air in your lungs leaves as he slides into you slowly. Your eyes fluttering shut when his hips snap forward making him go deeper into you.

“I.. I want this to be about you.. you’re so special to me and I need to show how special you are to me” Tom moans as he thrusts again into you. The sound of his moans sparked something in you.

Tom’s hands grab yours raising them above your head.He rests his forearms on the mattress to support himself as he’s above you. His eyes shut and grunts emitting from him as he thrusts slowly but deeply into you. Small moans tumbled from your lips as you squeezed his hands tightly.

“F-feels so good” you whimper as he starts thrusting faster into you. The bed starting to shake from the motion he was creating. Moans and grunts filled the air of the dim room.The only light that was in the room was from a lamp that was on a dresser.

Wrapping your leg around his waist you move the two of you in a quick motion so now that he’s on his back. Tom looks at you confused as you readjust yourself sliding back down on his cock. His eyes flutter shut as you start riding him slowly. Your fingertips ghosting over his abs as you kept your movements slow. You let out a moan as his thumb rubs against your clit , your legs trembling from how sensitive you were.

Looking him in the eyes you run your fingers through your hair moving your bangs out of your face. His free hand grips your hip tightly guiding you in a steady pace while the other is rubbing quick circles on your clit. Your stomach clenched when you felt yourself getting close. Tom was telling you how beautiful you are and that he’s lucky to have you.

“You’re my girl got that?” his voice shaky from his breathing. Your hips raising and lowering quicker , your moans becoming louder as his hips thrust up making him go deeper into you. The new angle making your head fall back.

“Y-yes, I’m y-yours” you gasp out as he pulls you down smashing your lips against his. Tom’s thrusts were fast and hard into you making you moan into the kiss. The two of you kissing in desperation and lust.

Tom’s lips traveled down to your neck as he kept thrusting. His thrusts were so hard they sent your body forward a bit. He had to wrap his muscular arms around you to keep you tight against him. His teeth biting the skin of your neck, surely going to leave a mark. You could feel yourself clenching around him as he kept the pace.

Heavy breathing fanned against your neck as your legs started trembling. Your hair creating a curtain beside the two of you. He places his hand on your cheek as he looks you in the eyes. Biting your lip hard as you release on his cock. He moans looking down at where the two of you connected. Tom watches as he slides in and out of you and shortly comes right at the sight. You moan against his neck as you collapse on top of him.

“So I take it you’re fine being my girlfriend?” He asks panting trying to regain a steady breathing pattern. You nod your head giggling as you look at him. His forehead lined with sweat, some dripping down into his curls.

“Yes Thomas Stanley Holland I am totally fine with being your girlfriend, want to know why?” you ask getting off of him and tying your hair up in a messy bun. He sits up on his forearms looking at you. He looked like a greek god sculpture the way he was laid out on the bed.

This man is yours.

“The reason why is because before everything happened you were always the one who knew how to make me happy, smile and you know so much about me.. you make me feel like life is worth living and after tonight I know how you truly feel and it makes me love you more and more so I would love to be your girlfriend because I love you Tom Holland”

“I love you more angel” He smiles pulling you to him to kiss you. Resting your forehead against yours you close your eyes smiling. You’re finally with the man of your dreams and who you love with your entire soul and being.

A/N: typed this while on pain killers so sorry if some things are spelled wrong x_x

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tfckdominic · 4 years

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“You know, I never really thought I’d ever spend more than a couple of nights back in that place. It doesn’t have that nostalgic feeling for me anymore. So much has happened since I left that map dot in the rearview mirror. I used to think I would be able to come back and have fond memories. But growing up…it changes us. It changed me. I’m not that same kid anymore, and I don’t even know if I would want to be. My grandmother used to say memories were like ghosts in this place, and I never understood what she meant – until now.”

AESTHETICS

leather that smells of cigarette smoke, long late night text messages, a half empty bottle of bourbon, the yellowed pages of an old book, stargazing on a rooftop, a box of written letters never sent, a pretentious coffee order, sharing a knowing look from across the room, black and white photographs

PERSONALITY

Shrouded in mystery, Dominic is very difficult to know…and he prefers it that way. Dominic has always had a predilection for solitude, preferring his own company over others. Being around people drains him. He does not understand the draw of the drama and the theatrics. One of his most major flaws is how critical he can be, and the man has always been unafraid of speaking his mind, often to the shock and offense of others; his sarcasm and biting wit gets him frequently into hot water with those around him. Everyone has always told him that because of this he gives off “bad guy” vibes, and most people assume he’s been arrested no less than half a dozen times, but the truth is tamer than that. He keeps to himself and isn’t quick to open up or even engage with people, which he supposes makes him aloof and enigmatic. More than anything, Dominic is an observer, and he prides himself on his intuition and his ability to read people and pick up on things others might gloss over.

FAMILY

For as long as Dom can remember, it’s just been him, his mom, and his sister. His little sister – only a year younger than him – married right out of high school and the first summer he came back home, he saw an emotion he could not recall seeing from his mother in the entire nineteen years of his life: relief. Since they were kids, his mother worked two or three jobs, always running herself ragged to make sure he and his sister were well-cared for. The woman’s whole life was making sure their lives ran smoothly, and she was beyond exhausted. In his mind, this was her well-deserved break. So even when he dropped out after barely scraping by his freshman year of college, he did not bother his mother by coming back home. Instead, he found part-time jobs here and there in the city, trying his best to make his own way.

THE FRIENDS

ADDISON | The contempt Addison feels for Dominic is not difficult to sense. She never thought he was good enough for Alyssa, and she made sure he knew it at every available opportunity. It was one of the reasons he never made much of an effort with Alyssa after their breakup, only imagining the string of vicious text messages from her best friend about moving the fuck on and getting on with his life. To say there is no love lost between the two of them is a serious understatement.

ALYSSA | The first girl who actually made an effort with him, Alyssa was his first love. The problem between them was not a lack of feelings, but his lack of ability to express them. The girl is pushy, and she vowed to open him up. Truth be told, she made more progress than anyone else ever had, but it was never enough for her. After five years together, and her dissatisfaction with what felt like everything he could give, they ended things. It was a struggle for her to move on, but he could not stand to face her again after things dissolved, and he regularly leaves her texts without a response. No matter how much she begs for closure, he cannot stand to reopen that wound.

BRIELLE | Brielle and Dom were passing friends in high school, always friendly but never really close. These days, though, her close relationship with Matthew has brought them closer. For some reason, his lack of noticeable interest in whatever she tries to discuss with him has never deterred her – and frankly he finds her fearless dedication to being who she is refreshing. There is a part of him that wishes she would stay a permanent romantic fixture in Matt’s life, because he thinks she does make his friend happy, but he can tell she is not all in. Still, that does not hinder from slipping in subtle hints that maybe they should finally settle down.

CALEB | Dominic has always felt a twinge of envy when it came to Caleb, mostly because of his closeness with Matthew. On the exterior, Caleb and Matthew seemed like the perfect duo, often making Dom question his place in Matt’s life. It did not help that Caleb always had a way of making Dominic feel inferior. Normally, that kind of arrogance wouldn’t bother Dominic, but his friendship with Matthew was his one vulnerability, and Caleb knew just how to subtly twist the knife into that soft spot.

CLAIRE | Other than Matthew, Claire is the only other person who could even come to close to earning the title of best friend. Their mothers worked together when they were young, and they spent many days together after school at the diner, forced to interact by pure boredom if nothing else. She has the uncanny ability to read his mind, the only person who has ever been able to pin his thoughts. And the girl does not shield him from the truth at all. Over time, he has learned to do the same for her. They are unafraid of calling each other on their respective bullshit. If not for Claire, Dom is not sure he would’ve showed up for the damn reunion at all.

HALLIE | If there is one person that Dom finds annoying, it is Hallie. He can’t stand how inauthentic she is, the complete opposite of Sophie. How the two of them came to be friends, Dom will never know. Deep down, he knows Hallie probably senses what is going on between him and Sophie, but she does not seem to voice an opinion on it – likely because he is well aware of just how many nights she sneaks out of his apartment after a late night rendez-vous with his roommate. They may not exactly be friends, but they keep each other’s secrets.

LANCE | On some level, Dominic has always felt a kind of kinship with Lance. It always seemed like he was running on someone’s agenda, but never his own. It was strange, how the two of them could be on the outskirts of this friend group and still manage to be so intertwined with it at the same time. There was a hesitance for him to truly invest in anything, including their friends, and Dom would be lying if he said he did not understand it. The difference was, though, Dom had Matt and Sophie and Claire and even Alyssa. The only person Lance showed much loyalty to at all was Caleb, a guy who would be the very first to stab a friend in the back. He’s now heard through the grapevine that Lance is still in Ivy Junction and never really left, and is somewhat relieved and hopeful to find a kindred spirit back home.

MATTHEW | How can one even begin to describe the friendship between Dominic and Matthew? It is beyond friendship – to Dominic, Matt is his brother. They are perfect complements: yin and yang, light and dark, hero and sidekick. Growing up next door neighbors, the two have been inseparable since they were very young. They shared a clubhouse in between their yards, went on endless adventures, and entrusted each other with everything. When high school ended and they headed off to college together, there was no doubt in Dominic’s mind that the two would be friends for life. But life has a way of throwing curveballs. Over time, Matt became more and more engrossed with his aspirational career in baseball, and his time for friends became little to none. Although they had the uncanny ability, even then, to hang out and act as though no time had passed, things became even more strained once Matt and Sophie broke up…and Dominic and Sophie began sleeping together. Keeping a secret of this magnitude from his friends has been very difficult, and Dom can’t quite stomach the idea that his closest friend may never forgive him if he were to ever find out.

SOPHIE | For most of his life, Sophie was his best friend’s girl. They were meant to be since elementary school, and Dom was not one to ever doubt that…even when his friend confided his own doubts to him. Sophie and Dominic always had a good relationship, she was someone he found it easy to talk to, even though he found that difficult to do with anyone. Still, he had to admit it was a surprise when Matt ended things with her and she showed up on his doorstep. Over the next year, their friendship grew and he knew he was slipping into dangerous territory as feelings took root in him that he has not felt before. Before either of them could stop it, they began an affair, one that they knew their friends would never understand, and one they themselves could not quite explain, even to themselves. Dom knows the feelings he has for her are genuine and they run deep, but pursuing them would mean losing his best friend and brother, not to mention Sophie has never given him any inkling of an indication that it is anything more than friend with benefits situation – and the truth is, Dominic is too afraid to ask.

TYLER | The only person more lowkey than Dominic has to be Tyler. Though Dom is not one to be intimidated, he has always seen Tyler as a force to be reckoned with, without making any effort. Everything the guy touched turned to gold, and it was difficult not to feel inadequate in his presence. Tyler never seemed to find himself caught up in the drama that plagued their high school days, and the two would often share an appalled look from across the room when their friend group inevitably broke out into chaos. Since his rise to fame, however, the two have not kept much in contact, but anytime they happen to run into each other in the city, they always share a few friendly words.

XAVIER | Though it was always Dominic who left people with the first impression that he was the badass, the title rightfully always belonged to Xavier – ironic, since the boy’s charm and good looks could get him out of nearly any bad situation he landed himself in. Even Dominic’s own mother could never believe Xavier could be the bad influence, which was exactly what the boy wanted everyone to believe. These days, Xavier and Dominic are roommates, both in the city and not exactly successful enough to have a place of their own. They will occasionally have dinner together, or watch television or play a game, but most of the time they go their separate ways.

DOMINIC is portrayed by MATTHEW DADDARIO and he is TAKEN by Admin Drew.

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paulbenedictblog · 5 years

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%news%

New Post has been published on %http://paulbenedictsgeneralstore.com%

Fox news One player each team must study at combine - NFL.com

Fox news

The 2020 NFL Scouting Mix is mercurial drawing come, so we turned to NFL.com analyst and former NFL celebrated supervisor Charley Casserly to give us some insight on this three hundred and sixty five days's potentialities. Who may possibly also fair silent your team be discovering out at the occasion? Casserly identifies one participant for every franchise to preserve up shut tabs on in Indianapolis.

NOTE: Click on on every prospect's name for a paunchy scouting portray.

AFC East

BUFFALO BILLS: Tee Higgins, WR, Clemson. The Funds prefer to score extra components, so drafting a receiver early is certainly in play.

MIAMI DOLPHINS: J.Ok. Dobbins, RB, Ohio Suppose. Alabama quarterback Tua Tagovailoa may maybe be the proper participant on this convey, however he is now not cleared for the physical section of the combine after having hip surgical operation. That mentioned, the Dolphins additionally desire a running again.

NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS: Ok'Lavon Chaisson, OLB, LSU. The quarterback quiz may possibly also fair silent be answered earlier than April's draft, and I maintain the Patriots may possibly also fair now not procure a appropriate trace at TE or OL later in the first spherical. They'll also enlighten a trip rusher and this class is deep with expertise.

NEW YORK JETS: Andrew Thomas, OT, Georgia. The Jets' offensive line struggled all the design in which thru the 2019 season and hindered Adam Gase's unit. Who greater to focal level on on this pre-draft route of than a respectable address?

AFC North

BALTIMORE RAVENS: Patrick Queen, LB, LSU. The Ravens will settle the most attention-grabbing participant available or exchange again. Queen may maybe be a sturdy addition to a unit that must again its front seven.

CINCINNATI BENGALS: Joe Burrow, QB, LSU. It is lining up for Burrow to be the constructing block of the franchise. We already know what he can enact on the sphere. The interview and profile testing are what Cincy may possibly also fair silent be most fascinated with.

CLEVELAND BROWNS: Jedrick Wills, OT, Alabama. The Browns prefer to shore up the O-line and Wills would certainly aid. NFL.com draft analyst Lance Zierlein lists Wills' professional comp as Jason Peters, which supplies him fascinating upside, however the Browns need him to play A LOT. That is the quiz Cleveland wants answered.

PITTSBURGH STEELERS: Ok.J. Hamler, WR, Penn Suppose. The Steelers desire a sail receiver to alleviate one of the vital crucial eye on JuJu Smith-Schuster. Hamler is the particular person, as a dynamic speedster who may possibly also excel in the slot. He's expected to register a sub-4.4 40-yard depart in Indy, which would possibly well also boost his stock.

AFC South

HOUSTON TEXANS: Jaylon Johnson, CB, Utah. Houston has a serious need at cornerback and Johnson may possibly also repair one of the vital crucial components. The Utah product is most efficient as a press nook at this level in his profession.

INDIANAPOLIS COLTS: CeeDee Lamb, WR, Oklahoma. If the Colts can clear up their quarterback quiz in free company, they may be able to also mercurial private an explosive offense by including a top-tier receiver from this draft class. They desire a wideout to pair with T.Y. Hilton. Lamb's playmaking ability may possibly also fit the invoice and be available after they draft at 13th total.

JACKSONVILLE JAGUARS: Isaiah Simmons, LB/S, Clemson. Any participant on the 2nd and third phases will aid this Jaguars protection. Simmons is versatile and may possibly also possess a different of roles. What's his most efficient convey? No subject -- he'll right this moment construct this unit greater.

TENNESSEE TITANS: Jonathan Taylor, RB, Wisconsin. Will the Titans re-signal Derrick Henry? I maintain the league speeding champion will return to Nashville, however they must private a backup notion.

AFC West

DENVER BRONCOS: Henry Ruggs III, WR, Alabama. After trading Emmanuel Sanders away, the Broncos must procure a complement to an on-the-rise Courtland Sutton. With this deep receiver class, they must private several choices. Ruggs would add yet another playmaker to the offense and his elite sail may possibly also aid Drew Lock stretch the sphere.

KANSAS CITY CHIEFS: Marlon Davidson, DE, Auburn. The senior defensive cease excelled in opposition to the bustle and trip in his closing three hundred and sixty five days at Auburn. He may possibly even be a appropriate fit for the Tremendous Bowl champions.

LAS VEGAS RAIDERS: Jerry Jeudy, WR, Alabama. The Raiders private lacked a No. 1 receiver since trading Amari Cooper away in the heart of the 2018 season. (Undergo in thoughts the Antonio Brown fiasco?) Jeudy is the tip participant at his convey and would fit in neatly with Tyrell Williams, Hunter Renfrow and Darren Waller.

LOS ANGELES CHARGERS: Justin Herbert, QB, Oregon. The Chargers' starting quarterback may possibly also fair now not be Philip Rivers for the first time since 2005. There's loads weighing on their QB decision this offseason. May possibly maybe well Herbert be the lengthy bustle?

NFC East

DALLAS COWBOYS: Xavier McKinley, S, Alabama. With Byron Jones hitting the originate market, the Cowboys desire a playmaker on the again cease. McKinley is a man who can play man and zone, construct an influence appropriate away and possess this need that Dallas has had for quite some time.

NEW YORK GIANTS: Mekhi Becton, OT, Louisville. The Giants are at some stage in of rebuilding their offensive line, and the address convey is predominant to retaining Daniel Jones. Becton may possibly even be a appropriate addition, and the combine will give Massive Blue answers as to what extra or less form he is in.

PHILADELPHIA EAGLES: Justin Jefferson, WR, LSU. The Eagles were extremely thin (and, to be resplendent, wound-riddled) at broad receiver closing season, so ask them to procure at this receiver class as a complete. Jefferson may possibly also pique their hobby.

WASHINGTON REDSKINS: Streak Younger, DE, Ohio Suppose. Younger is the most attention-grabbing participant in the draft. Period. He may maybe be a super fit in Ron Rivera and Jack Del Rio's 4-3 protection.

NFC North

CHICAGO BEARS: Cole Kmet, TE, Notre Dame. The Bears' ideal need on offense is tight cease. There are several guys who would fit neatly in Matt Nagy's map, including Purdue's Brycen Hopkins, however why now not fair for the most efficient TE in his class in Kmet?

DETROIT LIONS: Derrick Brown, DT, Auburn. The Lions desperately prefer to again their trip crawl and may possibly also procure the acknowledge in Brown, who generally beat opponents along with his quickness and energy at Auburn. Brown additionally has the skill position to boost Detroit's 21st-ranked bustle protection.

GREEN BAY PACKERS: Raekwon Davis, DT, Alabama. The bustle protection wants a good deal of aid and Davis boasts elite physical traits that will also dominate in the internal.

MINNESOTA VIKINGS: Austin Jackson, OT, USC. The offensive line must again this offseason, namely at address. Jackson is a top-five O-line prospect and may possibly also give the unit a make a selection.

NFC South

ATLANTA FALCONS: A.J. Epenesa, DE, Iowa. The Falcons prefer to herald some defensive aid. They are truly going to prefer to survey defensive ends in Indy to make obvious they gain a sturdy trip rusher in the first spherical, particularly with Vic Beasley hitting the market this offseason. Epenesa may possibly even be the ideal unusual threat on the D-line.

CAROLINA PANTHERS: Javon Kinlaw, DT, South Carolina. The Panthers private a good deal of defensive desires to possess with Luke Kuechly retiring and others hitting free company. There are a different of broad defensive potentialities on this class; Kinlaw is one who may possibly also make contributions from Day 1.

NEW ORLEANS SAINTS: Laviska Shenault, WR, Colorado. The Saints desire a participant to enhance Michael Thomas and this three hundred and sixty five days's class components a ton of choices. Shenault's physicality and ball abilities may possibly also add to an already-explosive offense.

TAMPA BAY BUCCANEERS: Tristan Wirfs, OT, Iowa. The Bucs private several holes, however the offensive line is the one they private to focal level on in the draft. Wirfs supplies versatility along the line; he may possibly also play appropriate address or guard at the next stage.

NFC West

ARIZONA CARDINALS: Jeff Okudah, CB, Ohio Suppose. The Cardinals private larger wants than cornerback, however they may be able to also fair silent be fascinating if Okudah falls to them at No. 8. They're going to most likely enlighten a good deal of time searching at defensive tackles in Indy, though Okudah playing reverse Patrick Peterson is absorbing.

LOS ANGELES RAMS: Cesar Ruiz, OL, Michigan. The Rams' internal line struggled closing three hundred and sixty five days and Ruiz may maybe be an again at heart. Can he play guard at the next stage? That's a quiz that will be explored at the combine.

SAN FRANCISCO 49ERS: Damon Arnette, CB, Ohio Suppose. Their trip crawl covers up a good deal of weaknesses in the secondary. Arnette can play internal or originate air and would right this moment again the again cease of Robert Saleh's protection.

SEATTLE SEAHAWKS: Yetur Infamous-Matos, DE, Penn Suppose. Jadeveon Clowney is a free agent and the Ziggy Ansah experiment did now not work. The success of Seattle's protection starts with having a appropriate trip crawl. The athletic Infamous-Matos is a playmaker, as evidenced by his 17.5 sacks and 35 tackles for loss as a two-three hundred and sixty five days starter at Penn Suppose.

Practice Charley Casserly on Twitter @CharleyCasserly.

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modernhobbit123 · 7 years

Text

It's Time Part 2

Charles Xavier x daughter reader

She and Logan had been on the road for hours and for the first time in a while she could actually sleep knowing she was in good hands. They didn't stop unless Logan got gas and soon enough they reached New York. (Y/N) woke up late into the morning and checked her map while he drove tiredly.

"Where are we now?"

"New York. The mansion is in Westchester." She looked for it and only now realized how far she had come. After a few more hours they drove into the big city. (Y/N) was surprised at how different it was from her past home town, the air here seemed..... lighter. "We'll be there soon. Its not far at all." She looked at her picture of him and immediately felt nervous about this. Her journey was coming to an end at last but she was afraid of how he'd react to her.

Logan pulled up to the gate and saw the overgrowth around the enterance along with the private property signs. He looked just as confused as she. She noticed the other sign beside the gate, 'Xavier's Home for Gifted Youngsters'. They went through and as soon as they got out of the trees she recognized the mansion in her photo. She wanted to cry as she was finally here, everything she hoped for was right in front of her. Logan got out and was about to walk up the steps when he noticed she was stillin the car looking at everything. "Are you coming or what?" He was impatient now that they were here. She snapped out of it and hurried to straighten herself out, knowing she must not have looked very appealing. She shook as they went up the steps and reminded herself to breathe as he knocked on the door.

The door opened to show a young guy in glasses, who looked curious, "Can I help you?" He hadn't noticed (Y/N) behind Logan.

"What happened to the school?"

"It's been shut down for years. Who are you? Are you a parent?"

"I sure as hell hope not." He chuckled.

"Then she isn't your daughter?" He pointed to (Y/N), who looked over Logan's shoulder.

"No, but we'll get to that, where's the professor?"

"There's no professor here, like I said, there hasn't been anyone here for a while."

"Then who are you?" He tried to take a look inside.

"I'm Hank. Hank McCoy, I'm the caretaker for the house."

Logan smiled, "Wait, wait. You? You're Beast?" He asked like he couldn't believe it.

Hank was taken back, "I don't know what you're talking about." He rushed trying to shut the door. Logan kept it open and (Y/N) stood back.

"Where's the professor?" He insisted as they fought against each other.

"I told you already there is no professor." He said loudly. Logan shoved it open to push past him.

"Hello? Professor?!" He yelled going to search for Charles. The door was left open as Hank tried to stop him. (Y/N) let herself in hesitantly and slowly went in just in time to see Logan punch him in the face before going upstairs. (Y/N) stood in awe as Hank started turning blue and fury. She hid behind the door as he lept up the stairs after him. She looked around the building from there, wondering what it used to be like here. She flinched as loud crashes sounded and Logan flew across the room onto the table near her. Hank roared in his face as he hung upside from the lights.

A strange voice was heard, "Hank?! What's going on?!" A dirty man came down the stairs in an old robe. His hair was greasy, dark circles under his eyes, and he'd grown out his facial hair.

"Professor?" Logan questioned.

"Please, don't call me that. I'm not a professor anymore....Come on, get off the bloody chandelier Hank!" He said tiredly. Hank swung down and he saw (Y/N) peeking behind the door. "Who are you and why did you bring a child here? I thought by putting up signs it would be clear that the school closed." He sat on the steps. (Y/N) didn't know what to think, other than question if he was her dad, and stayed hidden. Logan said something about how he was walking, which made her even more curious. She couldn't not stare at him as they talked more about why they were here.

"I was sent here by you. Fifty years from now." That's about all she paid attention to until Charles looked back at her.

"And who does she belong to? Certainly doesn't look like you." He said looking between us.

"(Y/N) come in. It's fine." Logan said motioning to her. She slowly opened the door and made her way over to them with her head down. "This is (Y/N). She is convinced that she is your daughter."

Charles looked at them like he wasn't sure to believe this part of the explanation. "I never had children. I'm sorry." She immediately took out her picture to show him.

"Is this not you with my mom?" Her voice was soft but shakey.

He took the photo slowly and smiled at the old faded memory. "Moira McTaggert. We took this before Cuba." His smile disappeared and he looked at her, "She's your mother?" (Y/N) nodded. He was surprised he didn't figure it out sooner. She looked just like her. "Why isn't she here with you?"

She stayed silent for a while, shifting between crossing and uncrossing her arms. Tears were building. "She gave me up years ago. She wrote to me on the back....about why she...," She felt sadness come over her and her voice got weaker. There was a sudden tension in the room, she felt their crushing stares weigh her down. She didn't want to cry in front of them because if she did she wouldn't stop. Charles didn't know what else to say but he didn't need to read her mind to know she wouldn't lie.

"I'm sorry. I....If I had known..." He struggled to find the words.

She shook her head dismissing it, "You couldn't have known. I was raised for six years in an underground base before she sent me to the orphanage." She sniffed. Later on during the evening they allowed her and Logan to stay. He convinced Charles to help him find Raven before she killed Trask, it was the only way to save their future. (Y/N) had been in a seperate room while they talked it over, she wondered what happened to everything before she got there. Before she was born.

It went silent and Charles entered, ready to answer her questions. She only looked down at her photo. He cleared his throught, "So, (Y/N), you've come all this way....I imagine you have lots of questions to ask." He spoke awkwardly. She nodded to him and looked up.

"Logan said this was a school. Why did it close?"

"Originally, we opened it to other mutants so we could teach them how to use their powers. But the army came and took the young men from here to fight in Vietnam. We ran out of funds and students to keep it running." He said with a heavy heart.

She nodded, understanding it, "Same thing happened in Michigan. Thats where my orphanage was......That's why I left."

"They wouldn't take a small girl for the army. You didn't have to run away." He chuckled.

"No, I ran because they found mutants there. A few of my...f-friends. They took them and I didn't see them again......I knew if I was found I'd be taken, so I ran." She looked away.

"Why come here?"

"I had to go, but I had no where to go. This picture was all I had to lead me. But it was Logan who found me, got me here."

"Are you like us? A mutant?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure how yet. Mom had me tested so...." being here in this moment made her mind go blank of questions she'd always wanted to ask. "Are you?.....Mutant?"

He nodded too but didn't seem as open to it, "I am, but it wouldn't seem like it at the moment."

"Is that what Logan ment when he said if you had your powers?"

Once again he nodded slow, "After Cuba I had to use a wheelchair because of my injuries. But Hank recently made a medicine for me that temporarily allows me to walk again, however, it blocks my mutation. I'm a telepath."

"Oh." She realized it had to be a heavy burden, to take a medicine that restricts his motivation to help others so his dignity can remain in tact.

"Are you disappointed? He took a drink, looking defeated.

"Not yet. You've fallen into a hole because of the world's change. If you had dug the hole by yourself then I'd be disappointed." She wore down the upper left corner of her photo, bending it back and forth. "This picture is proof that you're stronger than that." She smiled slightly and looked at him. He was surprised to hear this come from a young girl's mouth.

"You seem quite sharp for your age. I'll give you that, but I know many are disappointed in me."

"In a time like this it's normal, but you need to stand yourself up afterwards. The nuns taught me well when things got bad."

"I'm glad you weren't alone. If Moira had told me about you sooner.... you could have come here." He sighed.

"Now that it's later, am I still allowed to stay?" She was twelve, still a kid who needed a home and guidance.

He thought about it and took another drink, "If I wasn't like this I'd say yes, but you deserve better than me." He sighed. He wanted to say she could always stay but he knew he couldn't give her the lift she needed.

She didn't say anything else. She kept thinking that all this was too good to be true, but another side of herself said, "At least you tried." She nodded, "Ok."

"Ok? No arguments? No pleading to sta-"

"Times are hard, especially with Logan's mission. I won't make things harder by staying, I'll find a way," She knew she'd have to move on and she accepted it.

He felt horrible to have to let such a smart, understanding, sweet girl go into the cruel world because he was unstable. "Right....It's late, we should all get on to bed. You can stay for the night and tomorrow we'll send you on your way with some supplies." She nodded and followed him to a room. "Mine or Hank's room is down the hall, so just come to one of us if you need anything."

"Ok. Good night dad. Thanks for this." She moved and hugged him before he left. He was taken back but hugged back, knowing she came all this way. It was only right. She didn't want to let go, even if he was really dirty, but time couldn't just stop. She went to bed, in a real bed, for the first time in seven months. She didn't need to ask for anything more.

During the night Charles was restless, he could feel his legs go and the voices slightly come back a little at a time. He had the idea to focus on one mind in the house to quiet the other voices but he hated to do it without permission. Ultimately he decided to check if Logan was telling the truth and found the recent memory of him meeting (Y/N) at a bar. It was short but he smiled at the hope that glittered in her eyes when he told her he knew Charles. Against his better judgment he looked into (Y/N)'s head to see how she grew up, how she survived. It broke his heart to see Moira struggle to raise (Y/N) while working full time as a CIA agent, and even more so as she gave her up. His daughter had to grow feeling fake love, pain, and loneliness when he could have prevented it, if he had known. He took away her memories after Cuba so she couldn't tell him but she had to assume Charles was the father on her own from the one photo she had. He'd never felt more guilty or responsible.

#charles #charles xavier #charles x reader #reader #reader insert #logan #logan howlett #x-men #x-men days of future past

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