#but this is proof of the remaining remnants of what used to be

[hplonesomeart]

Damn this conversation really went from casually discussing hobbies into some more personal aspects of myself. I honestly wasn’t expecting to pour my heart out to a literal ai impersonation of a fictional comfort character, yet here we are. Goes to show how significantly he’s tied into my past after all, eh

[inmyloveworld]

i'll look after you (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)

word count: ~1.3k

synposis: "don't think, just do," was a challenging mentality to live by. but bradley quickly finds there is a balance to be had between thinking and doing.

warnings: allusions to anxiety, work abuse, overthinking

a/n: another hurt/comfort, who's surprised? this has been sitting in my drafts with an unfinished smut ending for a month but i’m electing to post without it as i’m not confident in my ~other~ writing abilities yet.. enjoy!

It was rare that the Navy ever let its aviators off early for the day; even more so for the elite members of Top Gun. Yet, with the clock barely stroking past a sunny four, Bradley was reclined on the sofa with a beer in hand. The house was spotless thanks to a shared cleaning spree the day prior. Nothing could have made for a more perfect turn of events.

But Bradley was pondering on the few texts he'd received that day. They were void of any of the color and character he was used to. None of the words exaggerated their spelling, and periods punctuated every short sentence. Everyone had once remarked him as a chronic overthinker both in the air and on the ground. It was easy to dismiss the gnawing he felt in his gut as the remnants of that mentality.

So, he cracked a Heineken and let himself indulge in uncommon solitude. The flat screen played his favorite drama to placate his mind. A subtle hunger led to perusing online menus for takeout ideas. Every little bit of stimulation was a welcome distraction from his pompous presumptions.

And then he heard it: the abrupt slam of a car door. Fumbling footsteps made their way to the front stoop followed by a clamoring of keys against the painted wood. Bradley grinned as he awaited the arrival, even through the slight tug of worry in his chest.

He watched as you stumbled inside without care. Shaking hands hung up tightly gripped keys and those same fumbling feet kicked off their shoes in frustration. Your shoulders rose and fell sharply with every short breath.

Was I overthinking?

Bradley had yet to see your face, had yet to meet those eyes always bright with excitement. Your face remained tucked toward the wall with each passing second. Swallowing his hesitation, Bradley spoke over the TV. "Baby?"

Your body reacted in shock, jolting up as your head whipped around.

I wasn't.

Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks. Said cheeks were splotchy, proof that these tears were far from the first you'd shed that day. The bright eyes he adored were puffy and red. Their brightness now was not out of joy but sorrowful watering.

Bradley's heart clenched tightly. "Oh, angel," he cooed, hurrying to displace his Heineken to a coaster and mute the TV. You had little time and no energy left to fight his comfort. As your boyfriend stood before you with open arms, you crashed into them.

He wasted no time in embracing you. Sobs broke past your wobbling lips and muffled against his shoulder. "I've got you, babe," Bradley soothed. "I've got you, it's okay. Just let it out."

All you had ever wanted was for someone to support you whenever life put you through the wringer. Bradley felt it a great privilege to be that support, knowing you'd do nothing short of the same for him. He almost cursed himself for letting his insecurities derail his intuition for you, but dismissed the old habit of self-deprecation. Nothing mattered more in this moment than helping you get back on your feet.

"I- I didn't know, you'd be ho-home," you blubbered. The comment irked something in him. How long had you been coming home in a similar state, putting yourself together just in time for him to get home? Were there more despondent texts or other warning signals he hadn't picked up on?

Each hypothesis built a greater desire to look after you, and to follow up on any twinge of doubt he felt. He needed not only to think but to take action on what he thought. "Shh, none of that, baby. None of that. You can always let go around me, okay? 'Can always tell me what's bugging you."

The words lifted heaviness off of you little by little. You cried more at the safety you felt in his words. Bradley guided you, leaden-legged, to the couch. He sat first before gently tugging you atop his lap.

Warm palms rubbed against your cheeks to dry them. Warmer brown eyes sunk into yours, unconditional love seeping through every glint of gold. "Do you wanna talk about it now, or later?" Though not wanting to let your feelings fester, Bradley didn't desire to press you for answers.

He watched as you took in a steady breath and nodded slowly. "Work's just.. just been really frustrating." You sniffled before continuing with anecdotes of being overworked and underappreciated.

Bradley continued to rub softly at your skin as you spoke. His lips pressed assuring kisses to your temples at times you got too worked up to continue. He gave every ounce of care and attention he could to your stories as you vented them out.

You slumped forward in his hold as you finished with a heaving sigh. Another soft kiss was pressed to the crown of your head. "Thank you for telling me, baby." His hands took up rubbing up and down your arms to help ease any remaining tension.

Bradley wasn't sure what he could say or do to make any of this better for you, to help resolve your problems in one fell swoop so that you never had to feel this way again. At the same time, he wasn't sure that a fix-it attitude was what you wanted or needed.

Don't think, just do.

"I want you to know that you're amazing. You work your ass off in everything you do without any promise of reward, and that's really admirable." You lifted your head slightly to see him, to see the sincerity dripping from his praises. "But you deserve recognition for it. It's not fair that you're continually overlooked for fuckheads who don't do a fraction of the shit you do. And it's not fair that you're made to feel so much less than you're worth. I'd kick all their asses if I could." His empty threat broke a small giggle from your lips as grateful tears replaced those of frustration.

Bradley returned your smile with one of his own before resuming a serious tone. "You don't ever have to put on a show for me, okay? I want you to know you're safe to come to me with anything, even the littlest complaints that you write off as whining. Do you ever think I'm whining about Jake getting on my nerves? Or Maverick getting too tough with me in the air?"

"Sometimes."

"Okay, that wasn't the best example." You laughed again, louder this time, and Bradley felt his chest swell with pride. He leaned forward to catch your lips against his, softly, allowing you to take the reins. The kiss stayed soft and sweet as you melted against him. Soft breaths filled the space between you as you parted, resting foreheads against one another. "I'll always look after you, angel. Don't forget that." You nodded in agreement before kissing him once more.

"Thank you."

🏷️: @avengersfan25

[dead-ringer-if]

DEMO (TBA)

The Wardens, stationed within the bustling city of Seattle, were the first proof of what could come from The Scourge, a cataclysmic event that had set off a chain reaction that would forever echo throughout time: Los Angeles falling into the Pacific, New York City being partially taken over by water, the Sahara Desert sweltering in intensity which killed off native fauna in record amounts, were among the most prominent. Years of misery, of fear, transcending over a century, wherein every remaining government strived to figure out a solution.

Which they found in the form of Titan— the first meta-human, Patient Zero, whose natural abilities were enhanced by various procedures. Titan started a new wave, hope beginning to appear, as more and more meta-humans were found— mainly due to the efforts of the Rose Family— and their naturally honed abilities, seemingly derived from the Scourge itself, being able to combat the effects until there’s only fractal remnants of it left.

From there The Wardens were formed, with Titan leading them, a new period of peace fell over the world once more. Of course, that never lasts as more and more villains began to pop up out of the woodworks, threatening the sanctity of the New World. However, without fail, The Wardens were there to answer the call and defend those that couldn’t defend themself.

Titan persevered, The Wardens went on, until a fateful day a decade ago on this date— wherein Titan lost Peregrine, their sidekick and protege. It’s a day that will forever live in infamy, as it’s a day that Titan lost Peregrine, but the world lost Titan.

— Excerpt from the Seattle Times.

The world was your oyster— at least that’s what you were told. By who? You’re not quite certain of that. Everything could be possible if you just strived to reach it… They just never tell you how to deal with the harsh reality of it forever being unobtainable.

Maybe that’s why you fell into a life of crime? Well crime is a stretch, you’re more a prisoner in a heavily guarded fortress than anything else. You’re not quite sure, not being able to remember the majority of what brought you to this moment; only fragments of what used to be visits you in your sleep. Of course, working for Diego Ruiz, the local crime boss in downtown New York City, wasn’t the worst possible job, barring the imprisonment, not that you were truly part of anything nefarious to begin with, but you still saw things you’re never sure you’ll be able to unsee.

When he gets arrested, you can’t say you’re too surprised— after all he took a lot of gambles while not having the intellect to back up such moves— but you are concerned about what the future could mean for you.

Nothing you ever imagined could prepare you for what’s in store, however. Never could have imagined The Wardens would have such a vested interest in you. You’re nothing special, haven’t been for as long as you could remember.

And why the hell do they keep calling you Peregrine?

Play as an MC that doesn’t quite remember their past life. Is it possible that you’re Peregrine? The protege that had been killed in a surprise raid a decade before? Or is something more nefarious going on and you’re simply caught in the middle of it? Why are you suddenly developing powers that you’ve never had before? And why the hell do you feel like you’re in a constant state of deja vu?

Please note that this story is rated 18+ for depictions of explicit language, alcohol consumption, potential drug use, sexual themes, mentions of death, blood, torture, and grief.

Customizable MC: name, nickname, appearance, sexuality, hobbies, bits and pieces of what occurred in the last decade, and more! (The MC has a slightly semi-set personality.) You’ll also be able to partially design your Avian friend: name, gender, and feather colors (it’s a Peregrine Falcon). The MC is 28.

Bond with The Wardens and discover, or potentially rediscover, your found family. The people who thought they lost you.

Uncover the seedy underbelly that lurks beneath the surface of the New World. Will you be able to discover what exactly happened to you? Uncover if you’re truly Peregrine or someone, or something, else entirely.

Romance 1 of 4 romance options— from the newest initiate within the Inner Circle to a suave, if slightly broken, billionaire villain.

Cultivate your powers that are both new and old.

You’re a dead ringer for a hero the world thought it lost… Just make sure you don’t lose yourself too.

Camilo/Camila Osorio — M/F

Age: 29

Power: Chlorokinesis — the ability to create and control plants.

Alias: To the world they’re known as Verdant, partner to Frostbite, a superhero within the Inner Circle of The Wardens.

Appearance: Of Colombian descent, they have richly tanned skin with piercing dark brown eyes to offset it. Ash brown hair is naturally slightly wavy— Camilo has his to his jawline and Camila has hers to her shoulder blades— which brings out the elegant contours of their face. An alluring presence all around, partially due to their powers, they stand at around 5’5” with a lithe body type.

Personality: While not being completely unkind, they’re not the most welcoming person. They don’t detest you, but it’s clear that they’re barely able to be in the same room with you. After all, they were best friends with Peregrine (with you?) and being near you only brings back painful memories. A wall of apathy, and sometimes cutting remarks, separate you from them, but at times, when they think you’re not looking, grief flashes through their gaze— latent pain rising to the surface that they’ve tried to bury for years.

Romance Route: Ex-Best Friends to Lovers, Slightly Rivals to Lovers (in a roundabout way), Lost Love, Finding Each Other Again, and Second Chances.

Airan/Aira North — M/F

Age: 26

Power: Cryokinesis — the ability to create and control ice, while not being affected by the cold.

Alias: To the world they’re known as Frostbite, partner to Verdant, the recent addition to the Inner Circle of The Wardens, a prodigy in the making.

Appearance: Ebony ringlets, that’s strewn with arctic blue and white, fall to just beneath their jawline, complementing the dark brown tone of their skin. Sapphire blue eyes shimmer with warmth despite the coldness that always seems to follow them. With a slender physique, they’re not one to get into fist fights but that doesn’t negate the danger level they could present. They stand at around 5’8”.

Personality: With the warmest smile and a boisterous laugh, they’re the embodiment of a golden retriever. Always wanting to make other people happy and stress free, with a genuine quality that surrounds them. They may be one of your “caretakers” to help you get acclimated with the world once more, and your growing powers, but they truly wish to be your friend too. No matter what they’d always be there to lend a hand if needed, or a shoulder to cry on.

Romance Route: Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Golden Retriever, Stuck Together, Gentle Compassion.

Damon/Diana Ambrose — M/F

Age: 45

Power: Widely regarded as the most powerful meta-human, partially due to their past that’s still shrouded in mystery, they have multiple abilities— flight, invulnerability, enhanced senses, and super strength (to name a few).

Alias: They’re known to the world as Titan, the old leader of The Wardens. An individual that hasn’t been seen in nine years and rarely, if ever, leaves the comfort of Warden Tower.

Appearance: Fair, perfectly unblemished, skin is complemented by the raven black color of their hair. Piercing green eyes, that look almost unreal due to their brilliance, brings out the chiseled features of their face— high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, well defined nose, and full lips. They were made for perfection, but is it truly all that it’s cracked up to be? With a toned/well muscled body, they stand at around 6’3”.

Personality: With a softly compassionate nature, paired with a presence that could silence an entire room by simply appearing, they were born to be a leader. Born to guide and help any that needed it. With a loving demeanor, wherein they have their heart on their sleeve, it’s no wonder that they took Peregrine in, at the ripe age of fifteen, in order to help train the young person that was clearly trying to find their way in the world. It’s also no wonder that they completely lost themself when losing Peregrine, something that they believe could have been completely avoided, and they’ve forever blamed themself for it. The last decade has brought with it a slew of darkness for them, their smiles not coming as easily, their anger at themself growing, and their hope slowly fading. Maybe with your reappearance things will be okay?

Romance Route: Old Mentor, Age Gap, Second Chances, Reunion, Forbidden Love (on their part), and Slow Burn.

Morgan/Morgana Rose — M/F

Age: 38

Power: Shapeshifting.

Alias: They’re infamously known as Silhouette. The leader of a criminal enterprise known simply as Syndicate.

Appearance: With sharp gray eyes, that seemingly stare right into your soul, and honey beige skin that’s complemented by their wavy auburn hair. They have an aura of danger consistently surrounding them, giving many the impression that they shouldn’t be trifled with. With a lean body type, they stand at around 6’0”.

Personality: Being called a variety of names within the tabloids: “The Lost Rose” or “Wilting Red”, to name a few— due to their abrupt departure from their rather famous family. They’re infamously known as Silhouette; a master manipulator, cutthroat in their dealings, and refusal to backdown over something they want. Of course, that’s simply gossip from individuals that have never truly met them— much like the tabloids that speculate on the life of the lost Rose Heir. Despite what you may think of them, they’re your best bet at discovering what happened to you in the last decade.

Romance Route: Enemies to Lovers (in a sense), Slow Burn (slightly), Age Gap, Villain/Hero, Misunderstood.

[angelkissiies]

CLOSE CALL

pairing : abby anderson x reader x ellie williams

cw : canon violence, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, use of alcoholic beverages, a little more angst as seasoning.

proof read : yes | no | kinda

a/n : this is taking place in jackson, joel is alive and well. ellie and abby are good friends and the world is still gross and infected but a little more peaceful.

word count : 3.8k

The crisp morning air bit at your fingers as you held your rifle to your chest. It was only 5am and you found yourself walking alone outside of Jackson's walls with nothing but a gun and a place in mind. It sounded like a good idea in your earlier state of delusion, but now as you trekked towards the abandoned ski lodge- the regret crept in. As much as you enjoyed the solitude of the lodge, something kept nagging at you to turn back. A voice in your head was screaming, but the forest remained silent. No infection, no people, no danger. So, despite your self preservation instincts begging you to turn around, you continued to push forward.

“Goddamn I hate this hill.” You huffed, coming to a stop in front of the town's lookout tower. The road to reach the lodge went directly through the heart of the tiny town, taking you along through the ancient routes of people long forgotten. Though, the sentiment wasn’t enough to keep you from hating this place. Through the past few years living in Jackson, you’d had quite a few secret rendezvous outside of the walls, most of which took place here. With it being the most easily accessible, empty, town- teens quite enjoyed the trek. Especially when it led to what was now duped, ‘the love shack.’ A,K.A. The only house on the block that still had a bedroom intact. One that you had fallen victim of more than once with all the wrong people.

Though, you weren’t allowed a moment to dwell on your regrets as your ears tuned into the familiar sound of infected. Their growling sent your body into flight mode, and before you could even figure out where they were, you began to run. “Fuck.” You hissed, hearing the sounds grow nearer, as you ducked into a cluttered alleyway. The nook was nestled between two old apartment buildings, giving the illusion of an escape route. Yet, as you pushed your way through the maze of old, rotting trash from years gone by- the only hope was to crawl on top of the dumpster and into one of the broken windows of the building.

As you pushed yourself up, ignoring the possibility of more infected- or god forbid, worse- being inside this unmarked and unsearched building, you took half a second to recall the patrol schedule for today. A monday, early morning- Abby and Ellie. As always. Whilst that gave some comfort, you had to focus on the situation at hand- not the possible rescue from the girls you’d been actively avoiding. Now, It was not knowing or death and for once you chose the former. From the eyeline on top of the dumpster, you caught a small glimpse of a pack of at least six infected running directly past the alleyway in search of a meal. For now, they seemed to be off of your trail but surely, your luck would run out eventually. So gingerly, you swept the glass shards from the window seal, avoiding giving away your position, before stepping into the wrecked studio apartment.

From a glance, you could tell that someone had really loved this place. There were remnants of posters and artwork that hung on rusted nails, torn into pieces from the years as they wore the paper thin. The walls had taken on a dusty green color from the pursuit of moss but before, it patched together in a shade of blush unbeknownst to most people who had passed through this place before you. It was enough to let your guard down, to slow your reactions as the world felt a little gentler in that moment.

What a mistake.

Before you could even take a breath, the hands of something unknown to you had wound its hands in your hair, violently jerking your head back to access your arteries. It had been completely silent, giving you no time to reach for your gun that you had let rest against the wall.

“Fuck! Get the fuck off!” You screamed, attempting to grip the mutated stump that posed as a head. It growled, something deep and raspy near the lobe of your ear, sending a jolt of undeniable panic into your bones as you struggled to get the upper hand. You couldn't die like this, no, you wouldn't die like this. So with a harsh kick, you threw your leg back against the stalker's kneecaps, sending the being onto the floor and promptly allowing the smallest of windows to unravel yourself from its grip.

It was going to work, you were almost free, when a gut wrenching noise echoed out through the building. Clicking. From this distance, you couldn’t tell how many there were, but from the sounds of it there was more than one. Anything could’ve happened on this short trip, but somehow it just happened to be the absolute worst thing that could've happened on any trip. Survivors' luck, right?

You couldn't open your mouth, the idea of alerting the clickers too much for you to handle. So you had to maneuver silently, using what strength you had left to keep your grip on the stalker's throat- which in turn kept its mouth arms length away. You didn’t have much on you, as you thought this was just going to be a short day trip to the lodge, so you made due with the things you had. Things being a ballpoint pen that was nestled into your front jacket pocket, just within reach.

Suddenly, gunshots rang out. Startling yourself and the creature vying for your flesh. Giving you just enough time to grab the pen and jam it into the eye socket of the stalker, shoving it as deep as you could with the palm of your hand before it finally slumped over- its weight collapsing completely on top of you. With a shove, you rolled the thing onto the floor and found your footing, smoothing your hair down as you grabbed your gun and catapulted yourself out of the clicker infested apartment building, throwing no hesitation to your fall onto the iced over ground.

“Abby, behind you!”

Oh fuck.

You dodged through the mounds of trash, throwing yourself back out onto the street. The scene was quite what you expected, seeing the two girls dismounted from the horses slaughtering the infected that you had just been running from.

Abby noticed you first, her eyes widening before moving back to look at Ellie. “Uh, Els. Don’t look now but we have company.” She grunted, throwing the infected off of her and crushing its skull with her boot. It was one of the last ones, the other being nestled in Ellie’s arms- head disconnecting from its spine.

She didn't hesitate to spin around with her gun aimed directly at you, arm slacking gently once she realized it was you. “(Y/n), what the fuck are you doing out here?” She chided, tucking her gun back into her waistband, moving her hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. Her brown jacket was now splattered in blood, adding an intimidating aura to the woman as she zeroed in on you.

You didn’t dare look over to Abby, the idea of the both of them staring you down with such vexation making your knees weak. “Nothing, I'm doing nothing. No need to worry.” You assured, keeping your destination a secret as you shifted your weight from foot to foot. You had made a show out of avoiding the two women within the walls of Jackson that now you had no escape from the uncomfortable tension that saturated the air as you spoke.

Abby approached slowly, eyes skimming over your body before they landed on the semi-hidden splatter of blood by your neck. Not even to mention the bruising that had begun to develop in place of the stalkers ravaging fingers. “Is that blood?” She asked, raising a hand to brush your hair back, away from the harsh contrasting blood against your skin.

“What happened, are you bit?” Ellie voiced her worry, moving to your opposite side, eyeing Abby’s hands as they moved to scour the area for any signs of infection. She was one to worry, after all, her immunity protected no one but herself- which made it hard to stay grounded when the possibility arose.

“No, no bites. I'm fine.” You responded, attempting to wriggle out of Abby’s soft yet firm grip. “Seriously, I handled it. No need to worry.”

The women exchanged a look before Abby turned her attention back to you, “That aside, you are not supposed to be out here. We have to take you back.” She stated matter-of-factly, her arms winding back to cross over her chest. The tan jumper she wore pulled at the seams, stretching to account for the tensing of her muscles as she moved.

An exasperated sigh left your mouth before you could control it, earning a sharp look from the girl to your right. “No, I'm sorry guys but I'm not going back right now. I’ll head back in when I'm done.” You stated firmly, moving to turn away from the women, only halting when a hand clasped around your wrist.

Ellie’s grip was tight, not tight enough to hurt you though.“Done with what exactly?” She questioned, her green eyes piercing into your soul as you spun around to face her. You were now stuck between the two of them, avoidance paying into the situation you found yourself in now. “Where were you going?”

You internally kicked yourself for saying anything at all, shaking your head as you jerked your wrist back. Taking a fleeting step backwards to gain some distance, despite the situation at hand- the glow in her eyes took you back to that night.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ begin flashback ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The haze in the bar hung low as people chatted back and forth about town and social matters alike, the sheer volume deafening as you took another sip from the glass of whiskey before you. It wasn’t your drink of choice but between that and Seth’s homemade hootch- you’d make due with it.

Ellie and Abby sat at a booth on the other side of the room, chatting about god knows what, as they sucked down shot after shot of something you didn’t quite recognize. You tried not to stare, as everyone knows it's not polite, but there was something so captivating about seeing the two of them so happy. So much so that you took to stealing glimpses of the pair, not letting yourself linger too long incase they began to notice. Ellie was wearing a long sleeved green top, the sleeves shoved up to rest around her forearm exposing her tattoo. The sight made your stomach twist, watching in awe as she challenged her companion to an arm wrestle.

Abby happily obliged, knowing she would win. She always won, with her arms three times the size of Ellie’s even whilst relaxed. So she braced herself on the tabletop, stretching her fingers out before locking hands with Ellie. Her soft dirty blonde hair framed her face, leaving you unable to makeout what she was thinking or even feeling in the moment, so you tore your eyes from the sight.

“Hey, (Y/n).” Joel settled beside you at the bar, motioning towards Seth for a drink. He was still chilly, his jacket shedding snow as he shrugged it off and laid it on the seat beside him.

You jumped slightly at the greeting, not expecting someone to actually acknowledge you in your preoccupied haze. “Hey,” You began, your brain moving faster than your mouth. “Joel, hi. What’s up?”

The man chuckled lightly, accepting a glass filled with a dark liquor from Seth’s hands. He took a sip, grimacing, before turning his attention back to you. “Hey yourself, how long have you been here?” He questioned, noting the way you’d been nursing the glass before you. Not many would’ve noticed the way the glass's condensation had created a puddle on the bar, nor how your fingers had pruned slightly from the way you’d been gripping the wet glass. But Joel did, he always did.

“Too long, I think.” You admitted with a shaky laugh, moving to wipe your hands on your pants. It was true, you’d been sitting in your own delusion fueled haze for what felt like nothing. “What time is it now?”

Joel flipped his wrist, checking his watch before turning back to you. “Just about eleven. What’s keeping you, honey?” He asked, finishing off his drink in another fast sip. He coughed lightly, shaking his head as he pushed the glass away. Not even he could stomach more than a little of the homemade bunch. “Why aren’t you with your friends? I saw Ellie when I came in, she’s with that girl- Abby. They seem to be having a lot of fun.”

The mere mention of the duo in the corner made your stomach flip, in a good or bad way- you hadn’t yet decided. The truth was, you’d come to realize you’d harbored feelings for the women, and you didn’t know how to handle it. Their presence made you nervous and the idea of being alone with them felt like you might actually stroke out (lucky eugene, you found yourself thinking). “I-i couldn’t.” You managed, taking a harsh gulp of air before letting your head fall down to rest on the wooden bar top.

“What’s going on with you? You used to hang out with them all the time, right?” He halted, mind running with ideas to figure out what could possibly be keeping you from the company of the women you called friends. “Did they do something to hurt you? Is that it?” He knew it was unlikely, the two being pretty tame in nature, but he wasn’t willing to knock anything out- seeing as your usually bubbly personality had been replaced with a dreary, anxiety ridden one.

“No, no. Never.” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, needing to make sure that he knew that it was you. They’d done no wrong, you just couldn’t get past your stupid crush on the duo. “They would never hurt me, They’re too nice. Even Abby, though she seems really mean.” You paused, hesitating as you glanced over at the man.

“Joel, can I ask you a question?”

The man nodded, turning his body to look at your barely noticeable eyes peeking up at him from the bar. “Anything, shoot.”

“Do you think someone is capable of loving two people at once?”

The question had been weighing on your mind, the possibility of you being able to encapsulate that much love in your one body was unlikely. So did it exist? The ability to have fallen head over heels for two people instead of one? You found yourself daydreaming about a life you could share with them, a long life bursting at the seams with love. How could you ever expect to recover from the longing that had engrained itself inside of you, fusing with that makes you who you are.

Better yet, how could you ever not love them?

Joel hesitated, his eyes momentarily darting from you to the girls who sat unknowingly at the center of attention across the room, and for once- things finally started adding up. “Well, sure.” He began, nodding along as he spoke. “I mean at one point it wasn’t believed our bodies could hold so much water. People used to say that, that was too much- but it was true. So, how can we deny the ability for our bodies to hold that much love?”

His words weighed on your heart, the familiar anxious thumping picking up as you found yourself looking to him for help. “I don’t know what to do, Joel. I’ve never felt this way and everytime i look at them- it starts all over again.” You gushed, quieting for a moment before finding the words you had wanted to say the entire time. “I’m not sure what falling in love feels like, but from what I can tell, I feel something like it when I see Abby.. and Ellie.”

A cough drives you from your reticent confession, ripping your eyes from Joel to figure out who might've had the balls to interrupt at such a time. That was, until your eyes landed on two people instead of one. Two women, THE two women you had just confided in your close friend about.

You saw stars with how fast you jumped to your feet, moving to dodge the extended hands that attempted to deter your departure. “Fuck me.” You groaned, throwing open the door to the bar before sprinting out into the snow.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ end flashback ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“The Lodge.” You gave in, pointing up to the ski lodge that sat snug at the top of the hill. Doing this, then gave away your personal haven- but for the chance to escape this situation, you’d do just about anything. “I was going there to clear my head.”

Abby hummed in acknowledgement, following your eyes up to the massive ski lodge, it was easily a full day's walk with the way the snow had piled onto the roads. Though, she didn’t quite expect you to know that, considering you usually kept inside the safety of Jackson's walls- tending to the farm animals and harvesting crops in the fall. She liked that about you, you didn’t go putting yourself in danger if you didn’t have to. “You wouldn’t have made it there before dark, you know that right?”

With a sigh you shrugged, avoiding being too close to either party as you shifted your weight from leg to leg, distracting yourself by any means necessary.

Ellie groaned, crossing her arms tightly across her chest as she looked at you. “Okay, out with it. I'm sick of this.” She began, giving Abby a glance as she began to step forward towards you. “We heard everything, yes, but that is no reason to avoid us. I mean-,”

“No, Ellie, you can’t just tell me how I can feel about this.” You laughed breathlessly, shaking your head as you took another step back. “I wasn’t ready for you guys to know, I mean fuck! I was barely ready to know myself.”

The rush of emotion led you to back up directly into Abby’s solid chest, successfully trapping yourself between the two women. If the unexpected intervention wasn’t overwhelming enough, now you had every reason to allow your eyes to well into tears. Their usually bright demeanor being hazed over with a lul of sadness. The two people you valued most in your life witnessed a moment of vulnerability and now you felt they hated you for it, or worse, they were disgusted with you by it.

“Hey, hey.” Abby cooed, hands landing on your shoulders to swing you around- facing her now as the tears began to race down your cheeks. There was nothing holding you back now, the wall was broken- truth splayed out for everyone to see. “Look at me.” She spoke, her left hand sliding under your chin, tilting your head up to look her in the eyes.

The sight was almost enough for her to lose her composure, instinctively wanting to pull you close and wipe away the tears that now streaked down your blushed cheeks. She restrained herself though, using the pads of her thumbs to gently swipe the cascade of tears from your jaw. Abby wasn’t the softest person, in fact- most people in Jackson referred to her as emotionless, but as she stood before you something inside of her felt the need to deaden around you- to create a barrier between the world and you. Something inside of her yearned to protect you, even if it was from herself.

“We wanted to talk to you, that night. After you left, Joel told us everything.” The woman explained, nodding over to Ellie.

Ellie nodded as well, moving to rest her hand on your waist. The contrast of touch was making your head spin, firm and soft. Loving and protecting. “It’s true, I tried to follow you outside but it was snowing too hard. I lost you.”

The tears had slowed, your glossy eyes moving from one girl to the other- searching for the unsaid words they had been dancing around. “I don’t understand, why?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed as your eyes searched Ellie’s for an answer.

Say it.

Please, god, say it.

“We want you.”

“We want to be with you too.”

Your head spun, the words falling from your lips in the form of an inaudible gasp. This wasn’t real life, there was no way that this was real life. Things never work out so well, the girl never gets exactly what she wants- so what was the catch? What was about to be thrown at you in exchange for the love of two women who meant more than the world to you.

“What?” Was the only thing that left your mouth, making Ellie release a small laugh in turn.

Abby chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully before dipping down to your height and pressing the lightest kiss to your lips. It was a mere brush, but the sensation sent a chill down your spine. Her mouth lingering before yours for a couple more seconds, allowing her breath to fan across your face- giving birth to the bursts of color in your cheeks. “I’m with you.” She whispered, taking a step back.

The empty space was quickly filled with Ellie, her smile sending a pang of nerves into your stomach. Her touch was gentle, but beneath the facade, you could see the restraint she was showing. Ellie’s nimble hand slithered around to the back of your neck, the other placed firmly on your collar bone before she pulled you into her. Her kiss was rougher than Abby’s, the surprise falling from your mouth in the form of a small whimper- in which Ellie devoured gratefully- But just as it began, it ended. She pulled away from you, letting her forehead rest against your own. “I'm with you.”

“We’re together. What the fuck.” You laughed, partly in disbelief and partly in delight. The anxiety you’d been harboring dissipated, being replaced with waves of adoration for the women before you. How was this real life? It didn’t even matter anymore, real or not. Staying or fleeting. You’d take what you could get.

Ellie chuckled lightly, glancing back at Abby before checking her watch. “C’mon. You’re on patrol with us today. If we have time at turnover, we’ll head up to your lodge.” She stated matter-of-factly, motioning towards the horses that shuffled back and forth in anticipation. The feeling of momentary bliss refused to fade, engulfing those around you in a haze of new love.

Today was day one of many more to come, and whether it was for the better or for the worst, they were with you.

a/n : part two following the events of the lodge? smut would take place then, let me know your thoughts on a continuation !

[communist-manifesto-daily]

Socialism: Utopian and Scientific - Part 5

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Again, our agnostic admits that all our knowledge is based upon the information imparted to us by our senses. But, he adds, how do we know that our senses give us correct representations of the objects we perceive through them? And he proceeds to inform us that, whenever we speak of objects, or their qualities, of which he cannot know anything for certain, but merely the impressions which they have produced on his senses. Now, this line of reasoning seems undoubtedly hard to beat by mere argumentation. 

But before there was argumentation, there was action. Im Anfang war die That. [from Goethe's Faust: "In the beginning was the deed."] And human action had solved the difficulty long before human ingenuity invented it. The proof of the pudding is in the eating. From the moment we turn to our own use these objects, according to the qualities we perceive in them, we put to an infallible test the correctness or otherwise of our sense-perception. If these perceptions have been wrong, then our estimate of the use to which an object can be turned must also be wrong, and our attempt must fail. But, if we succeed in accomplishing our aim, if we find that the object does agree with our idea of it, and does answer the purpose we intended it for, then that is proof positive that our perceptions of it and of its qualities, so far, agree with reality outside ourselves. And, whenever we find ourselves face-to-face with a failure, then we generally are not long in making out the cause that made us fail; we find that the perception upon which we acted was either incomplete and superficial, or combined with the results of other perceptions in a way not warranted by them — what we call defective reasoning. So long as we take care to train our senses properly, and to keep our action within the limits prescribed by perceptions properly made and properly used, so long as we shall find that the result of our action proves the conformity of our perceptions with the objective nature of the things perceived. Not in one single instance, so far, have we been led to the conclusion that our sense-perception, scientifically controlled, induce in our minds ideas respecting the outer world that are, by their very nature, at variance with reality, or that there is an inherent incompatibility between the outer world and our sense- perceptions of it.

But then come the Neo-Kantian agnostics and say: We may correctly perceive the qualities of a thing, but we cannot by any sensible or mental process grasp the thing-in-itself. This "thing-in-itself" is beyond our ken. To this Hegel, long since, has replied: If you know all the qualities of a thing, you know the thing itself; nothing remains but the fact that the said thing exists without us; and, when your senses have taught you that fact, you have grasped the last remnant of the thing-in-itself, Kant's celebrated unknowable Ding an sich. To which it may be added that in Kant's time our knowledge of natural objects was indeed so fragmentary that he might well suspect, behind the little we knew about each of them, a mysterious "thing-in- itself". But one after another these ungraspable things have been grasped, analyzed, and, what is more, reproduced by the giant progress of science; and what we can produce we certainly cannot consider as unknowable. To the chemistry of the first half of this century, organic substances were such mysterious object; now we learn to build them up one after another from their chemical elements without the aid of organic processes. Modern chemists declare that as soon as the chemical constitution of no-matter-what body is known, it can be built up from its elements. We are still far from knowing the constitution of the highest organic substances, the albuminous bodies; but there is no reason why we should not, if only after centuries, arrive at the knowledge and, armed with it, produce artificial albumen. But, if we arrive at that, we shall at the same time have produced organic life, for life, from its lowest to its highest forms, is but the normal mode of existence of albuminous bodies.

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[ellabsweet]

[*ੈ✩] 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 • 𝐄.𝐖

synopsis: in which the new girl in jackson attempts to easen her way into ellie williams’ heart after a tragedy

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warning: set in an alternative universe where ellie stays in jackson after joel’s death though she is dealing with severe depression, self harm and health issues, mentions of alcohol and drug usage

authors note: this is very much a sensitive topic very self harm focused as i made this heavily based on john keating and camille preaker from ‘sharp objects’ so please do not read if you are sensitive on this subject!

Ellie had grown so familiar to nightmares they barely stole a shiver out of her, the ever present foul feeling of poison building up at the pit of her stomach a mere proof of survival, tickle of life and its horror burned into her body as other things had been before.

But bad dreams, those were different. Skilled knives of the subconscious, aching for blood in the format of Joel’s aged face. I think you’d be a dog, kiddo, he stated simply shutting down her coyote self image. Loyal, he said.

Ellie had been a hound, certainly. Stared at herself through the mirror to face a rotten animal, monster-like dog with canines falling out of its gums, a beast not worth loving back. Her eyes had grown so sunken their green turned hazel, hair too long, existence bloodshot. The kids called her Scary Ellie. The bitter drunk at a dimly lit corner. The frozen in time and space, left to gather dust in greyer memories.

She glances at her bitten arm under the shower, traces the tattoo with water drops at the edges of her finger, twists the knob into closing the reservoir and drags a knife across the bite. She wants it out, needs it out. Joel’s death was etched into her skin and she needed more than a tattoo to rid herself of those thoughts. The tiled floor quickly filled with red. Part of her wished the reopening of wounds would finally turn her. Wished they’d have to shoot her in the head. She passed out soon enough.

“Morning, sunshine” You said softly, the banging in Ellie’s had from the fall still insufferable as she adjusted her eyes to the newly bright lightning of the infirmary, a girl she has only once seen before standing above her, wrapping her arm in lightly stained white gauze “You had us worried there for a moment”

Jackson’s people baptised you flower, from the gentleness and gardens and all throughout personification of a love practice like bouquets. There had been whispers at first, once you arrived a deer in headlights bloody, shaken and wide-eyed, how someone so careful could’ve survived so long alone in this new world that set out to kill all remnants of good fragility. The mystery of your ever so long sleeves even in summer and odd screams midst the night that carried your history were to remain hidden from the general public. But Ellie knew, because she had fucked you. She had felt it underneath her fingertips, and she had dismissed it.

She had been exhausted that night, two years since Joel had been killed, she wanted a distraction and you were breathtaking and lively in a way that inspired hatred inside her and Ellie wished to ruin it, to dig her fingers inside you and stain you with her own suffering, have your sunshine kneeled and begging, taste you senseless. It had been the opposite. You had dragged out softness out of her touch, so foreign it quickened her own heartbeat. Somewhere in between hunger filled kisses it had dawned on her you could not be corrupted, as though your souls found similar suffering within eachother in a perfect puzzle fit. Ellie thanked the broken lights for masking the tears that escaped her from your loving touch. She was tired and God, you were comfortable and you held her. There was no energy to fight back, secretly she did not want to. The next day she pretended you did not exist– you had never stopped waving her good mornings.

“What happened?” Ellie croaked out, throat dry.

“You know what happened, Els” You sighed and she cringed in response, defensive, sitting up on the bed before her body was fully ready to do so, head reprimending the feeling.

“I’m not some sort of suicidal if that’s what y-“

“You don’t have to hide from me” She scoffed in response, opening her mouth for a snarky retort that could not be left as you continued “Let me take care of you”

“It’s rotten work”

“Not for me. Not if it’s you.”

She rolled up your sleeve and squinted her eyes, an attempt to comprehend the lines that painted your skin as an artist examined a painting’s brush strokes, the self consciousness of the situation eating up at your insides, forming an emptiness pit. Ellie was adamant on her hold, a searching, sweet look plastered across her eyes so unfamiliar to you. It was exhausting to hide as you did, over a decade devoted to concealment, never once an interaction where you hadn’t anticipated which scar would reveal itself and blow your cover to a friend, a fellow patroller, even the damn clickers who surely had no conscience to mind. It had dawned on you that freedom looked a lot like Ellie’s gaze. There was no need to hide from someone courting oblivion as ardently as you were.

She rolled up your other sleeve, and there sat your exposed arms, so naked it made you breathless. The intimacy of it threatened your composure with a quivering a lip, both afraid to meet her eye and eagerly searching it for a reaction, met with a tenderness that contrasted the rough exterior she held.

“No one’s seen this?” Ellie asks quietly and you shook your head, the lump in your throat too strong to allow a proper answer, she accepts it regardless.

Ellie sucks in a sharp breath and stretches her arms above her head, removing the long sleeved fabric that covered her torso to reveal a now wretched forearm tattoo, ferns and a moth artistically arranged and destroyed by a needle and thread attempt to reconstruct it from her hurt. She faced you once before taking hold of your soft hand in her calloused ones and patting it down the ink, a feeling of high relief beneath your fingertips unveil the existence of scarring beneath. You gasp with a chuckle of understanding.

“You’re beautiful” you mutter before lowering your head to her reach, planting a soft kiss atop the centre of the tattoo, it is Ellie’s turn to be surprised. She opens her mouth as though you did not understand her, ready to claim herself a failure at the top of her lungs like a confession for an absolution she felt unworthy of, but the words failed to come out as you continued your venture in softness and lips “you are worth something as you are”

Ellie’s eyes swelled in tears, free falling out of control for the first time in a century, your warmth had given her a strange gift, the agony coming to surface past her protective walls. She felt her skin on fire, thought this to be the closest anyone could come to raw, took it upon herself to return you the favour, pushed your sleeves further up, kissed you in the middle of broken.

“I see you too” she said, running her fingers over the scars until you got a chill of goosebumps “Let me see it all”

Ellie pulled your shirt over your head as you sat still like an obedient child, wanting desperately to be praised for your newly found openness. Eased off yours shoes and socks, pulled down your slacks, and once only in a bra and panties, shivers covered your body in the frosty room, the air conditioner blasting a chill over me. Ellie pulled back the infirmary covers, motioned for you to climb in, and you did, feeling feverish and frozen all at once.

Her hands ran all over you, and you allowed them to, reaching your back, your breasts, thighs, shoulders. Her tongue in your mouth, down your neck, over your nipples, between your legs, then back to your mouth, you tasted yourself on her lips.

You both felt exorcised.

[chloesolace]

Can I request a oneshot where gn reader reassures Wyll that he isn't a monster but someone who is so good that he sold his soul to help others & he is just amazing to them? Not Wyll Ravengard, Son of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard, not Blade of Frontiers, but just Wyll. And the horns, bumpy skin, & the blackened eye are living proof of his strong moral compass. That's the man they fell in love with!

Petrichor - Wyll x Reader

summary: You find Wyll alone after Mizora turned him into a devil, and realize that this transformation is making him question more than just his worth as a fighter. But you are determined to show him that he is still the man you fell in love with, no matter the horns.

pairing: Wyll Ravengard x GN!Reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none

a/n: Sorry this took me a bit longer, I needed a break from writing for a few days. But thank you so much for this request! I thought it was a very cute idea and hope that you like what I came up with <3 and some general info: this month will be very slow for me in terms of creative writing since I need to submit my thesis until early Feb. I will write another story from my Taylor Swift series and then open requests again, most likely in late January!

Masterlist - Discord Server - Request Info

You saw his horns peek out from behind a rock, followed by the sound of muffled sobs. Clutching onto a nearby stone, you dug your nails into the slick surface, a remnant of the rain that had ceased not too long ago. The air was thick with petrichor, and the muddy ground was slippery as you cautiously placed one foot in front of the other.

His figure emerged from behind the rock as you approached, and you observed him crouched down, hands grasping his head desperately. His fingers curled around the horns that had forced themselves from his skull, barely touching. You swallowed as you dropped your gaze from his horns to his face, which he hid behind his forearms. Only when you called his name did he look up.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice hoarse, suggesting he had been crying for a while. You looked down at him, brows furrowed with worry, as you extended a hand to place it on his shoulder. He tensed beneath your touch, yet the way he averted his gaze hurt even more.

“I was worried about you,” you said, crouching down next to him while you searched his gaze. He wouldn't meet it. “The smell of sulfur still stains our camp,” you continued, letting your eyes drop to the puddle in front of you. You could only assume with how much hatred Wyll had looked at that reflection on the surface before you arrived. It pained you to even think about it. “You haven’t been eating.”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, turning to look at you. His voice sounded rougher than he intended it to be. You could tell by the way he grimaced once the words had left his lips, exhaling deeply to regain some control. “I don’t want you to look at me, (y/n). Not like this.”

Your jaw tensed, and you sat down on the muddy grass next to him, not caring about how the ground stained your trousers dark grey and green. The only thing that mattered to you at the moment was him. The moment Mizora had appeared in your camp, you knew it would mean nothing good.

“You’re not fine, and I am not leaving.” Your voice was determined, definitive. He had known you long enough to understand that it made no sense to argue, so he remained silent as he let his arms drop from his head. You searched his gaze once more, raising an arm to cup his cheek gently. The look on his face broke your heart.

“What Mizora did is horrible, Wyll,” you agreed, letting your thumb run over the elevated lines on his cheek; a consequence of his new, devilish form. You wondered just how much his body had changed, your heart aching with the thought of him removing his clothes only to find a stranger hiding underneath them.

“I should have never entered this deal with her,” he said silently, and you shook your head, using the hand that was still on his cheek to make him look at you. Your grip was firmer now, nails gently grazing his temple and jaw.

“Look at me,” you said softly, eyes flickering between his. “There is no use reliving the past; all it does is torment you. And I hate seeing you tormented.”

He remained silent, but you saw the conflict in his mismatched eyes; the pain hiding behind them. “I am afraid,” he began, his voice low, “that torment is all I have left now.”

You shook your head quickly, almost violently, as you exhaled in frustration. “No, Wyll. Don’t you even dare think that, you hear me?”

He turned away, brushing your hands off of him before he stood. His eyes were locked on the puddle at his feet before he stepped into it, ruining the mirror image of himself in the process. His gaze now turned ahead, to the valley which the little mountain you stood on overlooked. There were a few trees, and a long, narrow river slithering through them like a snake hunting for prey.

“Every time I look at my reflection, I’m reminded of my mistakes,” he admitted, not even noticing how you rose to your feet, watching from behind as he spoke. “But it is not only that. When I lay down at night to sleep, I can’t lay on my side anymore because the horns get in the way. I used to be a side sleeper. Every time I touch my forehead, I feel them. When I fight, I am not used to having them in the way. I make mistakes, get clumsy.”

He balled his hands into fists at his sides and let out a frustrated sigh as he turned his head ever so slightly in your direction. You had crossed your arms in front of your chest, keeping your distance despite it being the last thing you wanted to do. You wanted to run to him, to hug him, but you did not move.

“They not only make me less human but less of a fighter, too,” Wyll continued, his voice lower, as if he was saying it more to himself than you.

“Wyll,” you said calmly, not taking your eyes off him as you approached him. “Mizora thinks she ruined you, punished you for disobeying her.” You saw him stiffen but continued anyway to make your point. “But she did none of that. Because what she doesn’t see is that it is your heart that is pure. It is a weapon your magic and swordsmanship are only fuel for.”

He turned to face you, and you used the chance to press your palm against his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart against it. “And she cannot touch it. She cannot change your nature. Gold is still gold, even if painted over. What matters is not the reflection you see in puddles, but the good that you do. You do not need to hide behind names and appearances. I did not fall in love with them. To me, you are Wyll, just Wyll, and you always have been. You are the man I fell in love with, and that is what she cannot touch no matter how hard she tries. She cannot change your nature. You sold your soul so you could help people. It is the ultimate sacrifice.”

He stared at you with glassy eyes as he listened, lips slightly parted. His hand found yours, and he held it tightly. Your voice was now a little shaky since seeing the look on his face made it hard not to get emotional.

“What is inside of here,” you said, brushing his cheek gently with the back of your fingers. You caught a tear there and brushed it away softly with your thumb. “That is who I fell in love with, and that won’t ever change.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he replied, his words swallowed by a half-hearted chuckle. His eyes flickered between yours, but you simply smiled softly at him. 

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that I will be by your side, no matter what happens. I will be here to remind you of who you are, until you learn to do so yourself. I love you.”

Wyll placed his hands on your cheeks, blinking away tears that would have fallen otherwise. “I love you, too, (y/n).” His demeanor changed then. His voice was serious as he added, “And I swear, if Mizora comes for you I will do everything in my power to protect you.” 

“I know.” You smiled at him, gaze dropping to his lips before you captured them with yours, wrapping your arms around him as a light drizzle began falling around you, distorting the reflection of your kiss in the puddles around you. 

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝟏𝟒𝟏 + 𝐊𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A/N: Posting this again because Tumblr is being a nuisance and not showing my post in tags :)) It's just really freaking fluffy, enjoy!!

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Was completely on board for a stargazing date. No large crowds of people? Peaceful nature, paired alongside you? It couldn’t get any better for Simon, except maybe staying in at home.

Packs a kit of things you might want, a blanket, a late dinner (that consisted of some very delicious sandwiches and veggies! You really didn’t know how he did it, those sandwiches were always so damn good)

Sets up the blanket in this really nice field he found one day when he was out on a jog. The open sky was visible for miles around, and there were little wildflowers everywhere.

Just holds you close to his side, and doesn’t want to let you go ever. Not that you minded.

“There was this one recruit that was just a little shit, didn’t bother me thankfully, but bothered another one of the female recruits,” you said, tone a bit irritated.

“Want me to do anything?” Simon asked. It was funny, he was almost like a guard dog. Guard bear? Given his size and all. It was cute, but you knew that he knew you could more than handle yourself.

“Nah, ripped him a new one the moment I saw it happen. Gotta teach them right early on, or they’ll think they can carry that attitude throughout their career” you say. “Looked like he saw his life flash before his eyes,” you giggled softly.

He only hums affectionately, brushing a hand over your head gently. That’s when you let out a gasp, pointing up at something in the sky.

“Simon! A shooting star, make a wish!” You say, sitting up and clasping your hands together before closing your eyes, murmuring a wish to yourself. He remained laying down, but he did wish for something wordlessly, as cheesy as the action might’ve been.

It was that you would stay by his side for the rest of eternity, because only then would it be enough time.

John Price

He would definitely say cheesy stuff about the universe, but with his voice it made it sound like your own personal David Attenborough.

“Did you know that we’re all made of stardust? Us, made up of the remnants of stars created billions of years before our lifetime,” he said with a little sparkle in his eyes, as if your very presence was proof of the fact.

I feel like Price, despite all that he’s seen over the years, still has such a beautiful view of the world

I mean, it makes sense, when he does so much to protect it

Not just the world, but the universe

When you look over at him, you just see this glimmer in his eyes as he looks up at the sky. So bright you can’t help but snuggle closer.

The conversation had slowed down to a stop for a little moment as you both just watched the sky in the quiet night. You take this moment to look over at John, and all his focus is directed toward the sky. His blue eyes shine bright in the glow of the moon as fascination dances through them.

It makes your heart feel warm inside, that despite all the horror he’s seen he still regards the world with such a glow.

You hope that glow never fades, only shines brighter as time goes by. You can’t help but cuddle closer, pressing your cheek to his chest. His arm tightens its hold around your shoulders as his focus is directed to you now.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks.

“Nothing John,” you say with a smile. “Nothing at all.

Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

Has a hatchback, so he figured it would be nice to bring a bunch of blankets and pillows and drive to a viewpoint somewhere in the middle of the night so you could both cuddle under the stars.

Is serious about the setup, everything has to be nice and cozy.

Even brought one of those little packs of string lights you can find at Walmart during Christmastime to set up so it's extra intimate.

Snacks? Of course! Can’t be getting hungry now, can we?

You sat wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, legs thrown over Johnny’s as he held you close. Every so often he would press a kiss on your forehead as you both just talked about anything and everything. The days you had, some goofy prank he pulled on Ghost, the funny recruit you had trained the other day.

“Here I am bleeding out from a gash in my side when L.T. tells this stupid joke. Completely out of the blue. Hells bells, I can’t even remember what the joke was now, I’m sure it wasn’t even funny but it was so random I laughed,” he chuckles to himself. “That just causes blood to spurt out from my side and all over Ghost’s hands as he's trying to patch me up, and all he can say is ‘Fucking hell Johnny’ which, of course, makes me laugh more,” he laughs. And you can’t but laugh along with him, the sound so contagious and light.

“Sounds like one hell of a mission, hm~?” you say, pressing a kiss to his chin.

“Aye sweetheart, wish you had been there. Would’ve patched me up real nice, better than L.T. ever could’ve done,” he says, brushing his fingers over your cheek fondly.

“Of course,” you respond.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

Comes prepared to say the least. Snacks, blankets, heat packs, hot chocolate, you name it and he’s got it.

Was very giddy when you asked him if he wanted to leave base with you for a while to go stargazing.

You remember him saying on the first date that it was his ideal date, but at the time it was smack dab in the middle of winter, and while it wasn’t a bad time per se, there were better seasons to go in.

Loved learning about the stars in class as a kid, and it’s just stuck ever since.

You’re lying in Kyles's lap as you listen to him talk about his favourite stars. Every so often he would feed you a piece of candy as he did, otherwise, his fingers were running through your hair soothingly.

“Sirius is the brightest star we can see from Earth,” he points out before his hand returns back to the top of your head. “It’s actually a binary star, which means that they are a pair of stars orbiting alongside each other,” he explains before looking back down at you.

“What?” he asks as he looks at your goofy grin.

“Nothing, I just like the sound of your voice,” you say in response, and Kyle only trips over his words for a moment before deciding against them, opting to just kiss you instead.

Konig

Puts you on his shoulders as you walk through the open field, and says it's so you can be closer to the ones that are at least half as bright as you.

This makes your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, much to his amusement.

He’s just really sweet the entire time

Doesn’t know much about the stars and constellations so you make it a point to teach him all about them

He doesn’t say much in response, instead, he just listens to your voice as you talk excitedly.

“I think Lyra is my favourite constellation. It’s about the lyre, a musical instrument that was created by the god Hermes! He gifted it to Orpheus, you know the one from Hadestown that I always listen to?” you say excitedly, and Konig only nods as he watches you with fond eyes.

“I’m boring you, aren’t I?” you ask, your voice tinged with sadness, judging by his lack of response this entire time. Panic flashes in his eyes as he feels you pull away from him slightly. He grabs your wrist in response, pulling you back to him.

“Never, Liebling,” he says. “You just speak so excitedly about this, and I enjoy your happiness as though it were my own. That…and well, the sound of your voice is very lovely,” he says, pink flushing his cheeks. You feel your own heat up at the admission before you pull him into a sweet kiss.

“Alright,” you smile.

A/N: I actually have a really vivid memory of going stargazing as a kid. Back in sixth grade, we were at an overnight camp in the middle of the Canadian winter, and when nighttime hit the counsellors took us out to this big open field in all our snow gear and just told us to lay down in the snow to look up at the stars. I just remember it being so calm and quiet. It was kinda far up North from any cities (close to Algonquin park :P) so there was no light pollution. Still one of my core memories, haha.

Anyway! If you want me to expand on any of these headcanons into a proper fic just let me know!!

[bestworstcase]

What specifically makes you say that the Ozpin circle is basically a cult?

not "basically" a cult—it is a cult.

ozpin's inner circle is a religious organization dedicated to safeguarding four divine relics entrusted to their leader, who is literally the god of light's chosen one, until he deems humanity prepared for the final judgment. its notionally secular nature likely exists because ozma figured out that publicly doing this:

“The others cheered in agreement. The man considered. He had wanted to bring people together, and his efforts were finally bearing fruit. The accidental experiment was working, far better than any attempts he had planned in his previous lifetimes. “The people here believe in magic, though many have never seen it,” she said. “If you show everyone that it’s real, that the man with infinite lifetimes has returned as he promised—” [...] “She shook her head. “We trust in you and the fate you’ve laid out for us. We believe in the good of people and our shared responsibility to protect one another and Remnant. So many have heard our stories about you, but now you’re here, in the flesh. Your presence is living proof that everything you’ve said is true. It reinforces our beliefs and commitment to the Circle. Together, now, we will make ready for the final judgment.” [...] “And for a time, all that the woman had said seemed to come true. Many more followers flocked to Circle and their reputation and message spread all throughout Remnant. This was what he was here for, he thought. Perhaps, in the end, he would be able to rest.”

inevitably leads to conflict because, surprise! people don't like being told what to do by eschatological cults!

but ozpin's circle is not in fact secular—ozpin tells his hand-picked loyalists that the gods he serves are the Only True Gods and the whole point is that he's working to fulfill the mandate given to him by the god of light. the huntsmen academies are, inescapably, a religious institution.

moreover ozpin's circle is a cult not just in the broader sense of being religious in nature and dedicated to worship of a particular god but also in the narrower modern connotation of a high-control group organized around a charismatic leader. this is not a matter of interpretation; this is overt text. half the point of pyrrha's arc in V3 is to reveal this fact.

members of his inner circle are expected to work in absolute secrecy and—evinced by the antagonism between qrow and ironwood in V2-3, and the immediate suspicion of lionheart in V5—subject to intense scrutiny by other members against the possibility of betrayal. likewise, pyrrha is deliberately isolated from her peers (primarily through secrecy) and put under immense pressure when ozpin et al attempt to recruit her as their next fall maiden—all without informing her of anything beyond the very bare minimum facts of what they want her to do. "we can fill you in on the details once we know that you're with us."

and like. with the way those scenes in V3 are framed, with the very direct line drawn between ozpin's ruinous paranoia and secrecy and preoccupation with betrayal and ironwood's ruinous obsession with loyalty, and with the whole thing where the narrative continues to highlight how deeply and profoundly traumatized everyone who comes into contact with the inner circle ends up being... like, this is the intended reading. it is so unsubtle.

salem's circle is also a cult in the religious sense—she's, er, very explicitly receiving cult from tyrian and i would argue at least notionally from the others as well—and while it remains to be seen to what extent tyrian's belief that she would send him to hunt down anyone who left is grounded in reality, at a minimum she doesn't bother to do anything about it so the implicit threat is there to keep people in line.

[seeds-and-sins]

Light My Fire - Part Three

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x F!Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Graphic depictions of violence, Mentions of depression and death)

Description: Soldier Boy is dead. And his absence affects you more than you expected.

Tagged: @tonixe, @chernayawidow, @mrsjenniferwinchester, @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

Part Two

Author's Note: Apologies for the long wait. I have had a lot going on, but I am always ready to dig back into my writings. I have a few other stories I am in the process of catching up on as well.

"What?" You could feel yourself on the edge of your sickness, having recovered almost fully to excellent health. You waited then, and waited, and waited, and you waited because you found yourself excited to show Soldier Boy that you had gotten better. The last time you were together, for some reason, it made you wish he had never left. You still found him infuriating, but the reality of the situation was that you tended to enjoy the odd ball conversations and quips that teeter tottered between you two, despite that. "What do you mean?"

They chose Countess to give you the bad news. You didn't know why. You hated that they chose her. Although, there was no one that could inform you of this tragedy that was free from your wrath.

"He-" She had tears in her eyes, but they didn't feel very genuine, did they? "He didn't make it."

"You're lying!" You jumped up from your seat in the meeting room, nearly everyone flinched aside from Stan Edgar. Edgar remained suspiciously calm at his seat at the head of the table. "You're lying to me!"

"Phoenix, he's gone. I watched it with my own two eyes." The Legend was standing at the corner of the room, you looked to him for an explanation, even knowing that he never would have witnessed what your fellow team members had. He shrugged at you, the pity filled and morose expression on his face made you heat up with rage.

"I don't believe you. I want to know everything. What happened? It's impossible!"

"Phoenix. Honey." The Legend was unable to stop you as you began to pace, eyeing up the others like they were fresh meat and all of them were about to be thrown in the fire.

"He saved us. He saved all of us." Mindstorm ducked his head after speaking those words and it was in that moment you knew something was wrong because the air thickened with a harsh tension. Mindstorm was never a good liar.

"Then where's the body? None of you got the body?!"

"How could we? W-We would have died." Gunpowder cried out, his bottom lip wobbling, but he too couldn't meet your eyes.

"Then I will." Your white cape swung out behind you as you booked it for the doors. It would take you a couple hours to get to Nicaragua, but you could do it, you would do it for Soldier Boy.

"One moment, Phoenix..." Stan Edgar's calm voice penetrated you from afar, you didn't face him. "Think rationally. If Soldier Boy did not survive that minor nuclear blast, then neither would you survive it's remnants." You closed your eyes, a wetness rippling down your cheeks that turned into steam off your lashes. Your fists clenched at your sides and you bit down on the inside of your cheek. "You are not the only person mourning a great loss, the world is mourning for a fallen hero, and they need the remaining members of Payback to stick together and rise up."

"How can we rise up? We don't have a leader." You glared back at him, unable to hide the red burning in your irises.

"We don't need him, we just need each other." Even more proof that they were lying, Crimson so swift to give up on Soldier Boy, so swift to forget his importance.

"I should have gone, I should have been there. Maybe I would have done a better fuckin' job than you shit heads."

"Hey!" Tessa protested, you were at the other end of the table, glaring back at Stan Edgar.

"Perhaps..." His next words would haunt you for ages to come. "But you weren't."

...

1994...

You stood before a lengthy window that spanned the entirety of one side of your home. The view of a New York skyline, metal structures reaching toward a crystal blue sky. The sun bled through, your shadow cast against a pristine marble white floor. You were wearing your hero suit, which had changed over the years. It was mostly black, with red accents that followed the curves of your body. Your former suit was all white, but Vought claimed you had been wearing that suit for too long. You needed to rebrand. This new suit still had a cape, it was slanted off one shoulder and it was cut shorter than your last, ending at your lower back. The boots were knee high, with latches of vibrant red.

They started having meetings about your name too. The board hadn't come to a consensus. They wanted to keep you, relocate you after Payback finally disbanded. The issue was no one could ever get ahold of you. The Legend called nonstop, he could barely get your attention at scheduled events. You were never in your penthouse, never available for a quick conversation. You knew what they wanted, but for nearly an entire year you had been avoiding it. In fact, you had been putting all of your energy into a separate project. Outside the knowledge of twisted Vought executives and nosy journalists.

Where was Phoenix? They all asked.

What is the former Payback hero up to? Newspapers read.

The other members of Vought became bought out poster children for big corporations. Vought occasionally had them doing shows and special appearances. Crimson Countess became the face for a nationwide insurance company, the TNT twins had rights to their very own movie franchise, Mindstorm was an author of a New York Times bestseller, Noir, despite his impairment, continued doing signings and attending Vought funded events, and Gunpowder's fame dissipated into nothing as he grew older. There was the occasional memorial for Swatto. And then, of course, the annual Soldier Boy celebration of life. They even put up a poorly crafted statue in his honor, directly in front of the ever-rising Vought tower.

Phoenix knew that this was the only chance she had at rounding up all of Payback's former members. It was the only time of the year that all of them weren't scattered about at different parts of the country. Phoenix-You, were determined to gain their audience. You were more than prepared for it.

So, you called them to your penthouse. Unlike them, Vought didn't immediately kick you out from the tower's many different living accomodations. Vogelbaum and the Legend spoke on your behalf numerous times about your quality and significance as a hero. The others had seemingly died down in popularity, but for decades you could pride yourself in keeping an endless following. You used these facts to your advantage.

Your penthouse was usually filled to the brim with vintage furniture, little war trinkets from the old days sat on black wooden shelves. Today, you ensured it was mostly empty, or out of the way. You had a solid floor plan, no walls aside from the ones that bordered the penthouse. The walls were white, the kind of jarring white that matched the floors. Expensive paintings and photos of a distant past litered your walls, colorful decorations hung from the ceilings. The kitchen was to the far left, it was rounded with a bar counter and an island in the center, fully stocked. Your flat screen television was at the far opposite wall, accented by nothing. The couches, the mahogany coffee table, the end tables, your bed, everything was pushed up against that same wall. It made the entire center of the home barren. Not that it didn't already look somewhat empty, but there was certainly something off about the sight.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Your head tilted, ear turned toward the door that was far out behind you.

"Come in." You prompted in a sickeningly sweet tone. The door creaked open, in entered Crimson Countess, a smile plastered on her lips.

"Ah, Countess." You faced her, approaching with sure strides. You enveloped her in a strong hug, which she lightly returned. You could see the discomfort on her face, despite the smile she wore to hide any suspicions from you. You held her at arm's length. "Let me get a good look at you." You smirked, giving her a once over. "You look just as good as I suspected." The offhanded insult caused her to frown for a moment before she returned to her appeasing demeanor.

"Phoenix, you look..." Countess looked you over from head to toe, cocking her head and blinking away the initial confusion. "Not a year older."

"Trust me, Countess. It's a curse more than anything." Your gritted teeth betrayed your curved lips and bright tone. "Please. Let me get you something to drink." You quickly moved from her toward the bar, while she slowly twisted around and took in the appearance of your penthouse.

"What's up with the furniture?" She rose her voice a little to reach you, words echoing off the high ceiling.

"I'm making a few changes." You went behind the bar and began making her a drink. You were mixing and stirring, grabbing things from the fridge, working with a startling fluidity. "What's your poison?" She followed up to the bar counter, tentatively placing herself at it's edge.

"I'll take whatever you got."

"Sure." You both made eye contact, and you knew that Countess' uneasiness was well-founded then. "Something troubling you?"

"Well, uh-" She snorted nervously, "What have you been up to?"

"Not much, really. The usual."

"Hmm." You shook the cocktail you were making, procured two tall glasses from below with the other hand. You placed them down in front of her and then poured, a stern glare now adorning your face.

"You nervous?"

"No. Of course not. Just uh-" She shrugged, "You haven't talked to us in years."

"Sure." You immediately grinned, another knock at the door followed.

"Come on in." Black Noir and Mindstorm were the next to enter. "Wow, we got a buddy system going now."

"Phoenix, my dear, so good to see you." Mindstorm greeted, Black Noir was his usual quiet, observing behind the protection of his mask.

"Ah, Dan, how ya' doing?" You gestured Mindstorm to come closer and embraced him in a hug. He sent you a raised brow before you attempted the same to Noir, who stiffly stood there in waiting. "I expect the twins will be late as usual. I don't mind waiting. Want something to drink, Dan?"

"Sure." His eyebrows were furrowed and he was eyeing you in suspicion. "I'll take a glass of scotch on the rocks."

"Of course." You rounded the counter to continue serving your guests.

"Is there a reason you invited us here?"

"Oh come on, a girl can't want for a family reunion?" Gunpowder was invited, but you knew he wouldn't show. Moments later the twins came in, with their false smiles and their flaunty hero personas. The general vibe though was that something was off, and they were perfectly right in thinking that, you didn't invite them for nothing. But even after everybody got their drinks and things started to get comfortable, you were waiting on one more guest. He showed up excruciatingly late, entered your home with a placid expression. You knew his tardiness was purposeful, considering that the entire fiftieth floor of Vought tower was his hunting ground.

"Stan Edgar." Your former team had remained congregated around the bar, but there was an immediate shift in their energy the moment they saw Edgar. You hovered at the opening in the bar counter, drink still in hand as you eyed the man with a steely glare.

"Phoenix," He greeted, eyes lifting and examining every other hero that stood around you. "You invited your former teammates as well, I see."

"We, uh..." Countess gulped, standing straighter, "We didn't know she had invited you too, Mister Edgar." Everyone looked at Phoenix, your eyes were flashing red and your glass was turned orange from the heat of your hand. You inhaled a deep breath and placed it down on the counter.

"The annual celebration of life is tomorrow. It's the only chance I had to get all of you losers together." You stepped into the open space where Edgar now stood. You stopped directly in front of him, you stared into his eyes. He didn't flinch, his face didn't wrinkle in fear, he didn't beg. He knew exactly why you called him here.

"Where have you been Phoenix?" He asked, a casual way about him, you swore that even the edge of his lips curled into a half smirk. He crowned his fingers in front of him. You had seen him here and there around the tower, he had aged significantly since he was in charge of the teams affairs. Now, he was promoted, an executive, taking charge on Vought's boards and in all of the slimy crevices where Vought hid their darkest secrets. He wore a business suit now in contrast to the laid back, expensive garbs you recall him wearing when you first met him. He looked as corrupted as his soul, a real life devil. "For months, the top floor has been trying to get in touch with you."

"Vacation." You stalked away from him toward the window, your boots making deafening thumps in the stark silence that followed.

"Have you forgotten that it's been my word that has kept you here all this time?" You gritted your teeth and tilted your head away from the view, eyes squeezing shut.

"Do you think I want to be here?" The venom was practically dripping from your teeth with every word, back still turned.

"Hmm," Edgar pretended to sound surprised. "You've given us no reason to think you don't." You didn't reply and your quiet forced Edgar to continue with a sigh. "The remaining members of Payback have been moved around, they have adjusted nicely to their new roles, but you remain, why do you think that is?"

"Vought is afraid of me. They're afraid of what I can do. Someone like me doesn't just get to walk away."

"Arrangements can be made." Edgar offered and then the realization of what he was doing came to you in a rush. You spun to face him, unable to contain your growl. The others were a distance away from you and everyone, aside from Noir, flinched. Even Edgar had a fear in his eyes that made you very pleased.

"You want to know where I've been, Mister Edgar?" Your demeanor shifted again, you clasped your hands behind your back, under your cape and chewed the inside of your cheek. "I've been thinking about all those years ago..." Your eyes met his. "When my team told me that he was dead."

"I know." Edgar replied firmly, he shrugged. "And what for? Why trudge up the past?"

"Because..." You glanced at Payback, at their confusion and fear. "They were lying. YOU..." You pointed at him, your eyes flashed. "Lied to me."

"Phoenix..." Countess started, "We never lied to you." Her words were practically a whisper, but it was so deathly quiet that everyone could hear what she said.

"Ya'know..." You closed your eyes for a few seconds and took a deep breath. "I have been alive for sixty-four years and I have seen some fucked up shit, but this? This might just be the worst."

"What are you talking about?" Tessa, one of the twins, spat, but her body language betrayed her. She was afraid too. They all were.

"I was foolish enough to think it was a coincidence that I got sick. Right before one our first missions in a combat setting too." You faced Payback. "And then I thought some more..." You tapped your temple, "It was a really big coincidence that Soldier Boy ended up dead on that very same mission, the one that I wasn't there for." You cocked your head from side to side. "Me. The second strongest member on the fucking team."

"Phoenix-" Dan tried to interrupt, you continued.

"And then, I thought some more..." You paced. "Noir approached me a few weeks before that mission, before I was sick, and he asked me how I felt about Soldier Boy. Isn't. That. Weird?"

"You're overthinking this, Phoenix." Edgar lifted his chin, "Clearly, Soldier Boy's death has taken it's toll on you. Perhaps some therapy. We take the mental health of our heroes very seriously."

"Clearly..." You began fierce, your toes gently lifted from the ground, but you lowered yourself again. "I'm not as invincible as I thought. It took a lot of digging, but I figured it out."

"Okay, this has gotten out of hand!" Crimson had the bravery to step forward.

"Carbon Monoxide!" The room was drop dead again. You had caught them at their own idiotic game. "You fuckers were pumping it into my room. That's why no one ever visited me. And that's why when Vogelbaum came around he was always wearing a fuckin' mask."

"Phoenix, I think you should calm down." Edgar calmly suggested, you flared.

"Calm down?!" Your fists clenched, you had enough of this. "Soldier Boy has been somewhere in fuckin' Russia this whole time and you're telling me to calm down?!"

"We did what we had to do! He was out of control!" Dan explained, you could see he was shaking.

"He was the only person who understood how I felt and you fuckers took him away."

"He didn't care about you!" Countess shouted, "He didn't care about any of us!"

"He cared about me. He did."

"So, what's your plan then, Phoenix? What are we doing here? You found out what happened, what now?" Your eyes turned red for real this time, flames engulfed your fingers and Edgar was casually stepping back as if it was a day like any other.

"I'm going to kill you. All of you."

The first hit wasn't made by you. Crimson Countess threw a beam and before you could brace yourself you were being throw back into the heap of furniture at the far corner of your penthouse. It splintered and creaked, the flames from your body catching on fabric. You flew to the high ceiling and it crackled beneath your feet as you pushed off and darted down to her. Noir pounced on you after you tackled Countess, you easily threw him off and he went sliding into the corner. You could make out Mindstorm trying to get a good read on you and you knew you needed to focus on taking him out first, otherwise he'd be the one to put you out in seconds. Your fist put a hole through the marble floor when Countess rolled away from your punch. Noir kicked you in the head, you barely flinched at the blow despite the crack that sounded. Noir and Countess were more hands on, while Tessa and Tommy stayed away near Edgar, hands clasped between them as they waited for a good shot.

Noir got you into a neck lock, you were swinging about. When you flew up off the ground, Countess grabbed your ankle and yanked you down with what strength she did have. None of them could pin you for long though, you kicked her in the face and she was sent flying through the counter top of your kitchen. You spun rapidly to get Noir off your back, even bursting your entire body into flames, but he held on tight.

"This isn't going to resolve things, Phoenix." Edgar called from the seemingly safe spot that he had curled into. You removed a hand from the arm bar that Noir had around your neck and you threw a ball of fire to Stan, he dodged with a wide eyed and shocked expression, practically throwing himself to the floor to get away.

You managed to toss Noir off again, he smashed into the window and fell out, finding a grip at the edge. The high winds burst through, shattered glass spread out across the floor, your cape fluttered behind you and you faced the Twins, Dan, and a recovered Countess. Your chest heaved and smoke exited your lunges with every breath, you glared evilly at your foes.

"Don't make us do this!" Countess warned, your eyes turned red and flames rose up your arms.

"I'm not making you do anything..." You husked out, "You can just sit there." As you were whirling up a heavy wave of flames, the twins and Countess cast their beams at you. Noir jumped you from behind and held you in place. The entire penthouse went up in a massive explosion, smoke flowed from the open window, everything was destroyed, the marble floor filled with dents, cracks, and smudges of black. As the smoke dissipated, the dust cleared, you were rising slowly up from the floor. Noir was laid out flat, unconscious perhaps, you glanced at him to be sure. Countess was squatting, hands still branched out, blood dribbling from one nostril. The twins were propped back against the wall and Dan was hunched forward, arms shielding his head. Edgar was laid down in the corner, legs spread. He eyed you, scurried himself deeper into the wall. You scowled, with rushed strides you made way for him, about to fill your fists with his blood. Just as you were nearly there...

Mindstorm jumped out in front of you, your eyes caught his, the world disappeared around you.

You fell into the abyss.

...

"Phoenix..." His eyes raked over you like he was hungry, and not the kind of hungry where your stomach growls. "Not what I expected." You accepted his offered hand, you gave it a firm squeeze that even made his eyebrows lift. "Vogelbaum told me about you, a real spitfire."

"Soldier Boy. Vogelbaum told me about you too."

"Good things I hope?" Your hands returned and you both walked side by side through the sea of rich socialites that crowded the room. Light jazz music played in the background, you both were wearing your hero suits, visually putting you apart from the dozens of others dressed in expensive suits and sparkling dresses.

"As good as our profession would allow."

"Spoken like a pro."

"Well, I have been doing this for a while after all." He stopped and cocked his head at you, you turned to face him and smiled at the confusion written all over his face.

"Wait, what?"

"I got my first hero gig in the 60's. You're not the only one that's been around." He chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head.

"That's impossible. That would mean that you're-well-" He squinted at you. "How old are you?" You laughed, then twisted yourself and slowly began walking away.

"It's not gentlemanly to ask a lady her age." He followed after you like a lost puppy, immediately taking the space at your side and keeping a slow traipse with you.

"How come I've never heard about you before?" Soldier Boy was fascinated, wide eyed, intrigued beyond his own belief.

"Before Vought came up with this..." You stopped walking with a shrug. "Team up idea, I was operating on the West Coast."

"So, California?"

"Sometimes." He blinked at you, reeled back.

"Sometimes?" He questioned, you rolled your eyes but you still had that coy smile on your face.

"Vought sends me all over. If I fly fast it takes me about three hours to go cross country. I go where they need me, I guess." This time, he looked you over again with an entirely different energy about him. He nodded his head with approval and lifted his chin.

"Damn, not even Lady Liberty could fly that fast."

"Lady Liberty can't do half of what I can, hun." You were bragging, flirting, laying on all the charm. He was a hot piece, you weren't going to deny yourself a little taste.

"That would make you the most powerful woman on the planet."

"Most powerful person." You corrected slyly, he bit his bottom lip, the action made your toes curl in your boots.

"Oh, I'm sure we could put that to the test if you'd like." The both of you held a deep stare and just as you were about to reply, red manicured fingers were curling around Soldier Boy's bicep, interrupting the moment.

"Phoenix, I see you've met Soldier Boy." Soldier Boy didn't look away when you did, staring intensely at you as you directed your attention to a beaming Crimson Countess.

"Countess, it's good to see you. You look amazing!" You reached for her and the both of you embraced in a hug. Your stomach immediately dropped when you saw how clingy she was being with Soldier Boy and how he was unflinchingly accepting it. You trained your disappointment not to show, instead keeping a sweet rapport with someone you considered a good friend.

"Thank you! You too." You both fell into easy conversation back and forth.

In the distance, past waves of people, conversing, drinking, swaying to the music, you watched. Your heart was pounding in your chest, sweat beading on your brow. There was a blurry haze that clouded your vision, but your focus was solely on the scene playing out leagues ahead of you. You could hear every word, understand every cue. Meanwhile, your presence was absent to all others around you. No one saw you: the obvious dark aftermath of the Phoenix they knew. Lonely. Completely devoid of life. With an uncontrollable desire to die. Numerous people had passed through your being as if you were a ghost, a mere image, a shell of your former self. This was a dream. That was the only explanation you had. A cruel, cruel dream.

"Ben." You whispered to yourself, watching your separate visage deflate as Crimson told you about Soldier Boy and her being an item. The former Phoenix forced a smile, collected herself and patted Crimson on the shoulder in congratulations.

"You guys make a cute couple."

"Aww, thank you, you're too sweet." She stepped toward you and wrapped her arm through yours. "I'm so excited for us to work together. The Legend is already talking about getting a photoshoot with you, me, and Tessa." Soldier Boy defensively crossed his arms, his demeanor taking a major shift.

"If you ask me, women don't belong in the hero world." Countess scowled, you were slowly starting to notice the animosity between them.

"Are you seriously going to start this again?"

"Just saying..." Soldier Boy looked between you both. "Women are really only good for cooking, cleaning, taking care of the children..." He tilted his head and his shoulder twitched. "Sex." He added with a finishing smirk and a wink in your direction. Countess went to make some nasty comment in response, but Phoenix was already speaking up.

"That's the old ways talking. This is the new world. Female heroes are the future."

"Keep telling yourself that, hot stuff."

The bantering continued, entering into a more political discussion that you recall being very one-sided; With Soldier Boy making outrageous claims and you immediately disputing them with facts. Countess was silently standing there after that. Upon her first entering the space that Soldier Boy and you shared, you had been the third wheel. After a few minutes of talking, it became very evident that the third wheel had become her.

You stepped closer to the scene, the distant memory, the dream, whatever this was. You looked so much brighter then. You were practically glowing with life and happiness. Things seemed simpler. You had a job, you did your job, you were happy with your job. You felt supported and stronger than you had ever been. Those times, you missed desperately, to only feel as you had in your younger self. As you were taking tentative steps toward the past, another figure invaded your path with swift and confident strides. You immediately recognized the person as a young Stan Edgar.

"No." You spat, the sight of him unleashed a venomous reaction you hadn't anticipated in yourself. "NO!" You shouted, following after the man. You realized then that all of your powers were gone. You couldn't fly or shoot flames from your hands or, in this case, beat Stan Edgar to a pulp. "YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" He burst the invisible bubble forming around Soldier Boy and you, reminding both of you that you weren't alone or in a private setting.

"Hope you all don't mind my interruption."

"YOU DO! HEY!" You waved your hands around, swatted them at Soldier Boy. They ran through his image as if he was fog. You didn't exist to them.

"Stan. Not at all." Soldier Boy greeted, Edgar sent him a half nod and then continued.

"We were hoping to gather up Payback for a team photo."

"Of course, that would be so nice." Countess answered for the three of you. She grabbed onto Soldier Boy's arm.

"Perfect. Follow me."

"Ben!" You were backpedaling directly in front of Ben with every step he took, your former self and Countess at either side of him. "PLEASE! YOU CAN'T TRUST THEM! You can't trust-" You inhaled a sharp breath, tears ran down your cheeks. "BEN!" You stopped walking and the images ran through you, you dropped to your knees and your palms shot up to cover your face. Your sobs were muted, wracking your body with harsh twitches and shakes. The world vanished around you, and another image took it's place. You sniffled, wiping your tears away as you lowered your hands to get a better look at your new surroundings.

It was your old apartment. From way back in the day. Your first home inside a growing Vought tower. They didn't even have fifty or so floors at the time, but the board was determined to go taller than the Empire State Building. Everything was as you remembered it; 70's styled furniture, peach colored wallpaper, the eyesore of a tv in your living room, the fluffy yet itchy carpeting. You could hear muffled conversation, only growing louder as you watched your older self enter the home. You stood to your feet, eyes narrowed on the man following you in.

You remember him, you thought, he was a Vought executive. Someone with a big name. But you didn't care about any of that as much as you cared about getting a quick release. It was always easier to date or sleep around within company borders, you didn't have to worry about someone spreading rumors to the paparazzi or the news. They had to look out for their necks as much as they had to look out for yours. And Vought was very, very particular about news that traveled and where it traveled from.

"Wow, they set you heroes up big time." He commented, adjusting his tie. He was of average looks; slicked back hair, a nice smile, a freshly shaven face.

"You think this is nice? Wait until you see my mini-bar." You bit your bottom lip, closing the door behind him and giving him a lusty once over.

"Oh yeah?" He snorted nervously.

"It's in my room..." You closed in on him, grabbing him by the tie and yanking, he had no choice but to come forward. "If you want?"

"If I want?" He repeated back, "Like I would ever say 'no' to you." His hands fell to your hips, you pulled him closer till your lips were touching. You were moving fluidly together, lips parting over one another, tongues mingling together, swapping spit, a little awkward on his part, but enough to draw a low moan from you. As things were getting heated-

CRASH!

The door to your penthouse broke entirely off the hinges, falling flat onto the floor, splinters of wood exploding everywhere. Soldier Boy stepped over the door, fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight. The Vought exec was clinging to you for safety, putting your body between him and the door. You blinked at Soldier Boy in shock, before anger fell over you like a blanket.

"What the fuck?!"

"Who's this prick?" Soldier Boy hissed, gesturing at the man curled up behind you and using you as a shield.

"That's none of your fuckin' business! What do you think you're doing?!" You stepped forward, the man kept directly behind you, fingers clenched at your shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Ben shot back, grimacing when he followed your movements and approached as well.

"I'm trying to get laid, which is none of your business! Now get the FUCK out." Your eyes flashed red, the man winced and darted away from your body, he held at his hands. His palms were sizzling from the immense heat that had risen in you. He screeched and dropped to the floor. Neither Ben or you reacted, instead keeping your rage.

"Considering you turn me down at every turn, I'm thinking it is my business."

"YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!" You yelled in his face, at the top of your lunges, getting an inch too close.

"IT'S AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP!" He yelled back, Ben and you both knew that was a lie.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" You pointed at the door, shoving his shoulder, he only budged a little.

"HELP!" The man was rolling around on the floor, wiggling his burnt hands about.

"Look what you did!" You pointed at the poor guy, literal steam was coming off your skin you were so angry.

"What I did?! That was your fault!"

"Oh. There you go again! Always blaming it on me!" You stormed away toward your kitchen. "Can't take any accountability, can you? Ya' fuckin' asshole."

"You should take accountability for being a whore." He stomped after you, watching as you pulled a handle of cognac from beneath the countertop.

"Because I won't fuck you. Real classy!" You retrieved two glasses, pouring the orangey liquid into each glass.

You snatched up your chosen glass and sprawled forward into the counter, downing the glass in one go. Soldier Boy grabbed his glass, he eyed you with a sour expression, then sipped. Holding the empty glass up to your forehead, you sighed.

"We should probably do something about this guy."

"You don't want to know what I would do to him." Soldier Boy sassed, downing his own glass he limply dropped it back onto the counter.

"Fuck you." You grabbed the phone on the wall and made a call.

As you were intently following the movements of the past, the visage changed once more. You were surrounded by police cars, news trucks, standing in front of a bank. The alarms were going off, people were screaming inside as gunshots sounded. You were twisting around, trying to find out where you were. Instead, you spotted Soldier Boy conversing with the police chief. As he stepped toward you, a loud whistling split the sky, it went silent and everyone looked up. Soldier Boy kept walking, your former self was appearing from the clouds above, dropping down to the ground with a startling swiftness. He halted and you landed directly beside him, boots meeting the pavement with a thud.

"I fuckin' hate you." You growled, crossing your arms. Soldier Boy ignored you completely, squinting at the entrance to the bank.

"Seven hostages, three perps. We can go straight in, or we can take'em by surprise."

"I'm not really in the mood to prolong this, so let's just get it over with." You both calmly walked side by side up to the bank, Soldier Boy kept his shield posed at his side and a steely seriousness on his face. You trailed after them, desperate for another memory, for another feeling. Upon entering, Soldier Boy and Phoenix were both immediately bombarded with threats. Heavy duffle bags were stacked up over by the check-in desk, each perp had a handful of hostages. One of them had their gun held to the head of a woman, a bank teller, her eyes were red, filled with tears, makeup smudged down her cheeks, and gagged at the mouth with a tie. The robber's breathing was ragged, chest heaving with each pump of adrenaline, finger held on that trigger.

"Take one more step and the bitch gets a bullet!" He shouted, Soldier Boy and you froze, you glanced at each other. He was the first to shrug and look back to the robber.

"Okay." He said, completely nonchalant to the threat. The gagged woman whimpered at the prospect that she might die in that moment. That not even her heroes would save her. You couldn't find words, dumbfounded that Soldier Boy would even say such a thing. You stared at him for confirmation, he nodded to cue you in. He was going way off script that day.

"Y-Yeah..." You placed your hands on your hips and stood tall. "Go ahead and shoot." The robber did fire the gun, but next to her head and you knew her eardrum was blown out for it. You flinched, whereas Soldier Boy remained planted and terse.

"I'm not fuckin' around!" The robber yelled.

"And neither am I, stop being a pussy and keep to your word." The robber's eyes widened, you mirrored the man's expression and immediately sought to deescalate.

"The way I see it, you have two choices..." You gestured at them, "You kill the hostages and we kill all of you, or you let the hostages go and we take you in." Soldier Boy smirked, scoping out the men as they all shared uneasy glances.

"And either way, it's all the same for us."

"Except..." You emphasized the word through clenched teeth, directed at Soldier Boy, then added. "We much prefer that no one dies today."

There was a tense quiet that followed, a precursor to the chaos that erupted out of nowhere. All perps began unloading their magazines on Soldier Boy and you, little clinks and jingles sounded as the dented rounds fell to the floor one by one. The hostages that weren't gagged, screamed for their lives, ducking down as bullets seemingly came from every direction. Loud clicks started to sound, soon all of them were on empty. Soldier Boy and you looked down at the puddle of lead at your feet, then to each other. He smiled.

"They don't make dumb fucks like you anymore, do they?" Soldier Boy commented, you held your hand out to him and he grabbed it with his free hand.

"Our turn." You prompted, just as Soldier Boy twirled and easily took you with him, he tossed you at the main assailant. Your body was rolling through the air, landing directly against the criminal with a sickening crack. Soldier Boy jerked his hips and threw his shield at another. The last perp was trying to make a run for it. You had already killed the main one by breaking his neck and Soldier Boy's shield definitely left a mortal injury on the other. Usually, the two of you would keep one of them alive for the press opportunity of standing in front of a camera and smiling, like two hunters showing off a prized stag. But Soldier Boy made a dead sprint for the third, he had different intentions.

"Soldier Boy! Last one lives!" You reminded, but it was too late and he was tackling the man to the floor, pummeling his masked face in with a barrage of fists. After a few beats, he came to stand, blood spattered all across his face and the chest plate of his suit. "Was that really necessary?!" You shouted to him in annoyance, voice bouncing off the high ceilings of the bank, whimpers and sobs sounding in the background.

"I'm in a mood today, sweetheart, so shut your pretty little mouth."

"You think I wanted to be here either!" Neither of you anticipated a fourth male shooting up from behind the counter with a bomb vest and a trigger in hand.

"I'M LEAVIN' WITH MY MONEY OR NO ONE IS WALKING OUT OF HERE!!" Soldier Boy and you had moved ahead to stand beside each other. Your hands were on your hips, his bloodied fists dangled at his sides, you both carried a stone coldness about you.

"Listen, kid, did you not just see what happened?" Soldier Boy gestured at his three dead accomplices. "If you don't put that trigger down that will be you."

"If I push this button, everyone is gonna' die." The man was shaking to the core, you could see sweat collecting on his skin through the eye holes of his mask.

"Not us," You spoke up, "We won't feel a fuckin' thing. So, just put the trigger down. You're not accomplishing anything with this."

"Fuck you!" He yelled, lifting the trigger in the air. You weren't thinking, you flew fast and gathered him up in your arms. You shot up and crashed through the ceiling of the bank. The bomb went off just as you cleared the building, blood spattered all over, you were holding bits and pieces of a mutilated body in your hands. The fiery explosion disappeared in a haze of black smoke. After the initial shock of being covered in blood and guts, you were lowering yourself out in front of the bank. Your hands were still clinging to dead pieces of the perp, hostages were exiting the double doors behind you and sprinting into the safety of police officers and EMS.

"Phoenix!" Soldier Boy barreled out of the bank, nearly destroying the doors and pushing aside an innocent woman that was in his way. He cupped your cheeks and held you there, staring down at you, investigating you for any injuries.

"Soldier Boy, I'm fine!" You ground out, grabbing his wrists and prying yourself from his clutches.

"Don't ever do that again! Do you understand?!" He pointed an admonishing finger in your face, snarling at you.

"What?! It's not like I felt anything, I'm fine, okay? I saved everyone."

"You didn't communicate at all?!"

"There was no time to!" You chuckled in disbelief, palming your face. "Besides, you're the one over here not giving two shits about the hostages."

"You didn't actually think I was going to let those fuckers hurt them." He cocked his head at you, the corner of his lip tilted up in a charming smirk before he rolled his eyes. "Seriously, I would never allow that."

"Well, this isn't the first time." You elbowed his shoulder, then looked to the crowd. Aside from the officers and the hostages, news reporters were bursting at the seams to cross that tape and rush to Soldier Boy and you for an interview. They were already taking photos, despite the hefty distance, shouting your hero names. "I'm leaving." He grabbed your wrist, tethering you to the earth.

"Now hold on a sec, why don't we go get a drink? Unwind."

"I'm covered in blood..." You tore yourself away. "And the last thing I want is to be anywhere near you." He frowned, tonguing the inside of his cheek. The wind whistled as you ascended into the sky at full speed and disappeared into the clouds. His brilliant eyes followed after you.

Meanwhile, you were drifting through the bank doors, watching every aspect of these dreams that were swirling in your head. Soldier Boy faced you, he looked directly at you, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you looked behind you.

"You." He spat, taking those few steps till he was within arms reach. The space that separated you both burned, your head began to throb.

"Me?"

"Yes. You." His strong jaw clenched and his eyes darted up and down your figure. "You can't trust them." He muttered under his breath, "They're lying to you."

"What are you talking about? What do you mean?"

"Wake up..." His words bounced inside your skull, you were hunching forward, clutching your head. "Wake the fuck up..."

Everything surged toward you, a heavy breath filled your lunges and you were jolting upright on a metal examination table. You were struggling to catch your breath, a palm naturally finding purchase at your chest to ease the pressure.

"Phoenix." Your eyes darted in the direction of the voice, Vogelbaum and a nurse were standing a safe distance away at the corner of the room. "Calm yourself." He smiled, it turned your stomach. "Everything is okay."

"W-What-" You were wearing a hospital gown. Your double vision focused until you were staring at Vogelbaum again. You blinked at him, eyes drifting shut, out of your control. "What happened?" You groaned, he turned his back to you.

"A gas valve went off in your penthouse. It's making headlines right now. You missed Soldier Boy's celebration of life."

"Gas valve?" You sat up straighter, weakly so, glancing around the room. It was all white, a lab of sorts, familiar to you from experiences that you had ages ago. You tried to prop yourself up on an elbow. "Soldier Boy?" You wiped your hand down your face. "W-What?"

"The blast knocked you unconscious." He turned to you, then started placing a bunch of stickies on your body, starting with your temple, then your collarbones, then your wrists and onward.

"What's going on?" Your voice trembled.

"Stay calm." Vogelbaum expressed, he cupped your cheek when he was done and smiled at you. "You're safe. This isn't like when you were sick."

"But how did I get knocked out? I-I-I've taken countless explosions."

"Well, you're getting old. It's normal to experience some wear and tear."

"Hmm..." You dropped your head into a palm and sighed. "I missed Soldier Boy's celebration?"

"Yes," He grabbed a clipboard, the nurse that was with him began clipping on a bunch of wires to the circular stickies, they were attached to a machine on a rolling cart. "Do you uh-remember him?"

"Soldier Boy." You propped your chin under your fist and nodded your head, a vision came over you and you were staring off into nothingness. "Yes." You gulped, shaking your head.

"Could you..." He waved two fingers at you. "Describe the day he died to me?" As you tried to collect yourself, flashes of lights and blurs filled your head.

"I uh-" Your eyebrows furrowed, the nurse flipped a switch and a short whizzing noise sounded. "Only recall bits and pieces." You shook your head, narrowed your eyes on him. "Why does that matter?"

"You were comatose for several days. You experienced a concussion," He dismissed. "I'm making sure that your brain is functioning to it's fullest capacity." He pulled up a stool and plopped down in front of you. "Phoenix, tell me what you remember about that day."

"Um..." You bit your tongue, itched your temple. "Soldier Boy and I went on a team-up. One of the Nuclear Power plants in Ohio. We saved as many people as we could. Ben told me to..." You felt a lump form in your throat. "He told me to go on ahead. The plant exploded and when I found him, he was a shell of himself. He died in my arms."

"Fascinating..." Vogelbaum mumbled, head buried in the clipboard as he scribbled notes. You glared at him and he got the message.

"What I mean is..." He tapped his pen at the paper. "It's fascinating that your brain recovered so much from the incident." You blinked at him, confused by whatever he was trying to hide. You knew he was lying to you, you could feel it. You just couldn't figure out why. "When you were under, your brain activity was off the charts. What was going on?"

"I-" You inhaled a deep breath. "I was dreaming about the past, I guess..." You snorted, shaking your head, eyes widening. "But it was like I was looking in, I wasn't apart of those memories."

"Interesting." His pen raced across the clipboard as he jotted down his thoughts.

"Look. I don't want to be here. When can I leave." He stood up, patted you on the shoulder.

"Sadly, we'll have to keep you under observation for a few more days." The nurse turned the machine off, it powered down with that same whizzing sound.

"I'll break out of here, then." Vogelbaum held his hand up, it did little to keep you from getting off of the metal table.

"Now, there's no need for that Phoenix. What's a few days to make sure that you're okay?" You sent him an uneasy grimace, then crossed your arms.

"Fine, but only a few. I'm not staying here longer than a week." You began unclipping the wires, "Scratch that. You've got two days."

"Okay," Vogelbaum nodded, scribbling something on his clipboard again. "I can do two days. Mind if I run a few more tests?" You collected the wires in your fist and tossed them to the nurse, who fumbled catching them all as they hit her chest.

"Not at all. I love being violated in every which way." Vogelbaum snorted, you sent him a sardonic look. His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, he waved at the nurse.

"Jenny, would you give us a moment." As Vogelbaum passed you, you caught a reflection of yourself in the mirrored glass; two way, you were being watched. Nothing you were new to, you had been in this same position before. The metal door creaked as Jenny rolled the machine out of the room. It made a resounding thump when it shut behind her. The door must had been heavy, inches thick even. For something so minor as a bump to the head, Vought was taking some serious precautions.

"Phoenix, let's talk. Just you and me."

"This another test?" You itched the side of your neck, your fingers catching on one of the stickies on your skin. You began to peel it off, feigning a calm and collected outward appearance. Inside, your body was screaming, your head was pounding, you could feel a weight heavy in your chest. Your anxiety was getting worse with each passing second and you couldn't figure out why.

"Perhaps." He sat on the stool again, clipboard forgotten in the crook of his arm. "I know it's been a tough year-"

"Okay, we're done here." You rose to your bare feet, about to take your leave, removing stickies aggressively as you went.

"I'm trying to help you, but you have to work with me." You stopped at the metal door, with your back to him, you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head.

"I'm tired."

"I know." You rested your forehead to the metal. "The depression hasn't gotten better, I'm assuming." You turned to him, arms crossed in a defensive stance, then shook your head. "I've created something that might help." He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and procured a bottle of pills.

"Don't you know by now that medicine doesn't work on me." You said lowly, eyeing the orange bottle.

"This will. It's more potent than any drug you've ever taken, I tuned it specifically to you." He offered it toward you, "And I guarantee, it's going to make you feel very, very relaxed." You accepted the bottle, looking between his all too friendly smile and his creation raveled in your vice grip. "Try. For me?"

"Okay..." You bit your bottom lip. "I'll try."

Return to Master list

[prettymuchteddy]

Mercy

Summary: Daeron Targaryen receives news about his nephew, Maelor

Warning: mentions of the death of a child

Words: 667

A/N: This is kind of a character study and expands more on things from Fire and Blood

Daeron remembered the first time he held Maelor in his arms. It was one of the few times his grandsire had allowed him to visit the Red Keep since he began being fostered in Oldtown. He was thirteen when the tiny babe was placed in his arms. He had never held a child before and anxiously cupped his head, terrified of hurting him. His nephew slept quietly; his hand buried beneath the yellow blanket he was wrapped in. Daeron found the courage to relax slightly after minutes of silence from the child. His eyes wandered to the babe's features. His puffy cheeks reminded him of Helaena’s while the curls on his head were remnants of Aegon. A gentle feeling washed over him that day. Daeron smiled at the babe. A harsh wind blew into the tent, he could tell that someone had walked in. “Prince Daeron,” the man announced his presence. “At ease, my lord,” Daeron said. The man’s armor clanged, signaling he had taken a step forward. “My prince, we have received news from Bitterbridge.” Daeron’s brows crinkled. “What does Bitterbridge have to do with us?” The man hesitated. “It's about your nephew, Prince Maelor.” Daeron clicked his tongue. “Ah, they received Maelor. Good, they’ve been traveling for a while, Ser Rickard especially must be exhausted. But I’m sure the ruling lady is treating them well, so he won't complain much when we bring them back to Oldtown.” “My Prince, Ser Rickard, and Prince Maelor are dead.” Daeron’s hand wavered. A moment passed. Then another. His throat went dry. Whatever he was thinking of previously was gone from his memory. The man figured he would continue. “They were found out near an inn. A mob formed and they…killed them both.” Daeron remained still. “When?” Was all he could bring himself to ask. “Not long ago, the ruling lady of Bitterbridge sent your uncle his egg.” Daeron forced himself to laugh. It came out bitter. “An egg is not proof. They could have stolen it. The Gods know Ser Rickard is having a difficult time trying to manage a three-year-old, imagine watching him and an egg.” “That was not the only proof sent, though not to us.” The man paused. “The body was sent to-“ Daeron turned around quickly. “Tread very carefully with what you say,” he threatened. “He is not a body. He is my nephew and your prince.” The man stared at him. Eyes wide and terrified. “Yes, of course, my prince.” Daeron was shaking. “Prince Maelor’s head was sent to King’s Landing where Rhaenyra received it.” Daeron’s grip on the sword by his waist tightened. “They sent my nephew to her?” His voice didn’t sound like his own anymore. “Yes.” “Why? He has nothing to do with her. She was nothing to Maelor,” Daeron spat. “The lady wanted to appease both sides. She doesn’t want to earn the ire of either after what happened on her land.” “Did Ser Rickard not make it to her castle?” Daeron shifted his gaze anywhere but the man’s. “The lady closed her gates. She refused to allow in any person not of her house. That’s why Ser Rickard went to the inn.” Daeron let out an unsteady breath. It came out harsher than intended. “She refused to let anyone in?” The grip on his weapon was turning his knuckles white. “And now she is trying to appease us?” The man only nodded. “Where was she when they found my nephew and Ser Rickard?” “She only appeared after the fact, my prince. She had been in her castle when the mob formed around them.” The young prince turned toward the entrance of the tent. “Tell my uncle’s men that we head for Bitterbridge.” He clenched his jaw. “I need to get Tessarion.” “She has begged your uncle, Lord Hobert, for mercy.” “Oh,” Daeron said. A hollow feeling in his chest. “She will receive mercy, alright. I will grant her the same mercy she and her people gave my nephew.”

[lyriquette]

Vytal Festival 2024 Prompts Week! Day 2: History/Fairy Tales!

@remnants-of-rwby-events - Also, thank you for the wonderful event and the prompts. I get to write again. Aha. Happy Vytal Festival!

-----

Title: Chronicling: 

A post-Grimm tale told in journal form.

—

Year 0 Day 22 A.G. ::

22 days ago, we put an end to a fairy tale that connected the distant past to our current present. Salem was defeated, and the Grimm were vanquished. 

Only later did we realize that this was the start of a chaotic new world.

—

Year 0 Day 23 A.G. ::

Perhaps the only merit of the Grimm was that it prevented a lot of the infighting that we’re experiencing now. Everyone saw the Grimm as a common enemy, and whenever there was a War like the Great War, both sides would deal with the Grimm before going back to killing each other. The looming threat of the Grimm prevented Wars from going completely overboard, because what’s the point of winning when the Grimm would overrun you anyway?

One could argue that Salem contributed most to the unification of mankind because that’s what it took to survive.

Salem issued her ultimatum when we finally came back to Vale, which was essentially Surrender and Submit OR Confront and Die. And humanity chose the latter, believing we could finish this fight.

Vacuo, Mistral, and whatever remained of Mantle and Vale amassed an army of Huntsman to attack the Land of Darkness.

Note that Atlas is missing from that group and that becomes important later. 

I’m still not sure why Salem chose to do things like that. The smarter thing would’ve been just to attack all the major cities and hold us at Grimm-point.

Perhaps she was getting bored of her immortal fight.

Or maybe she just wanted to do what the Gods did to her and her army a long time ago - wipe everyone out in one go - in a twisted role reversal. Eh. Who knows what goes through an immortal omnicidal maniac's head? And it's not like I can ask her anymore.

In any case, the major cities were almost all emptied out of Huntsman to fight this battle. Only the bare minimum remained to maintain the city’s defense, most of them Huntsman-in-Training.

People made the mistake thinking that Mantle and Atlas, being both from Solitas, were of one body and mind - and while many from Mantle were willing to see the end of this eternal fight - the big-wigs of Atlas held their strongest back, claiming they were needed to protect them from the Vacuoian rabble. Most people just treated this as rich people just being unreasonable and selfish - and that these folk could be handled after the war ended.

---

Year 0 Day 25 A.G. ::

Just getting the army to the continent was brutal. Grimm covered both the sea and the skies, and we took enormous casualties before even making landfall. And when we finally did, it was like introducing flesh to a meat grinder. Looking at the final casualties, over 40% of Huntsman died that day, and a whole many were left crippled or missing. All hoping to see the day where the fighting ends.

Ruby’s still in a coma after doing whatever she did. Weiss lost an eye and complained “why couldn’t it have been the scarred one.” I ended up being the unhanded to Yang’s unarmed. 

Hmm. I just realized that Huntsman have a very terrible coping mechanism for debilitating injuries.

When we came to the Grimm continent, we believed we held the winning hand. We were confident that our army was proof that Humanity was United and that the Gods would answer our call. Therefore when we finally reached Evernight Castle, we used the power of the Relics to summon the Gods on Salem's doorstep. 

And to our shock, the God of Light found humanity not United and therefore Unworthy. He didn’t bother giving an explanation to a species about to become extinct in the next few seconds. As we saw the same light show that was about to make humanity extinct for a second time - except now in the God of Light’s hands - we despaired.  

That’s when Ruby, wielding all four Relics, did… Something. It’s hard to describe. It was like being in part of her Semblance, including the extreme nausea part, and then also not. The world exploded into red and white - a field of scattering petals instead of the desolate land we were at. And when everyone came to their senses, all of the Grimm around us were gone. Ruby was gone too. So was the God of Light.

The God of Darkness had a perturbed expression on his face, only to be surprised when Ruby reappeared from a gale of petals a couple seconds later and without his brother. Meanwhile, everyone ignored the half-dead Salem and focused on the other building-sized deity in this scenario.

Waiting for his decree. 

Wondering if we needed to somehow procure another miracle to protect Humanity.  

Now whereas the God of Light was willing to make humanity go extinct just to honor the letter of the agreement, the God of Darkness, who was now the only god around, was more flexible on the interpretation of the conditions.

Humanity was United as far as He could see, and He would honor the spirit of the promise. There’s a certain irony here that the God who had made humans nearly extinct a long time ago was also the one who gave its stay of execution, not that anyone who hasn't heard Jinn's revelation could appreciate it. 

Salem, who was already half-disintegrated by just being in the proximity of Ruby’s Something, was unmade by the God of Darkness - disappearing into dust. It was a rather unfitting end for the immortal woman who had made our life hell - and if this were a book, I'd say the writer would've done Salem dirty. Unfortunately for her, this was real life, and I could only wish this happened sooner.

The only things that remained here were the Grimm Pools and the Castle and a small number of Grimm confined permanently to the Land of Darkness. 

Year 0 Day 29 A.G.

After the God of Darkness left, some people stayed behind to turn Evernight into a livable city. Before the army set off for home, I saw someone chiseling out a statue in the God of Darkness’s image and a whole bunch of purple-robed clad followers praying. 

Guess the God of Darkness finally got the worshipers He finally wanted. As for the God of Light, he still hasn’t reappeared, but the God of Darkness has reassured us that he is not in the position to do much of anything. More importantly to us though, Ruby will wake up eventually. 

The end of our fairy tale.

The army eventually separated and went back to their respective continents, eager to see the friends and family they left behind. 

But when the Vacuoian and Mantle Huntsman reached Vacuo’s borders, they were met instead with a united Atlasian army instead. 

That was the start of the Atlas-Vacuo war.

[onceuponalegendbg-rwby]

RWBY Retrospective - Volume 2

With Volume 1's success, the team now had proof that there was an audience for this show. They just had to see if they could keep the momentum going.

Volume 2 is in an interesting position because it basically works as a middle chapter of a prologue, meaning it's meant as a connection point for V1 and 3. Not to say nothing happens, quite the contrary, but that it feels even more open ended than V1's finale. Our team even mentions that there's still so many questions and things to solve. However, V2 is a step forward for the series regardless.

From the first shot the show is letting us know that things have improved. The textures for the buildings look better, no longer just flat images. The first real shot we see of Beacon is grand and a far cry from episode 2 of V1's. Same can be said for the NPCs. Gone are the Shadow People and their comedic potential, now we have actual models. The coloring is also so much better, saturation levels seeming to have evened out enough to where characters like Weiss with her mostly white color scheme no longer hurt your eyes to look at.

This volume also does a better job at expanding on characters that didn't get much focus previously - characters like Yang and Pyrrha. It's not flawless in this department but there's an attempt made to give these characters depth past their initial impressions and I'd say that they succeed.

The show still carries over some of it's pacing issues from before, but they don't feel nearly as distracting as V1, most likely due to the episodes all being a more consistent and longer length than V1's four-six minute two parters. There's also just the lingering problem of not having the time to properly explain some mechanics of the world, which is no doubt why the World of Remnant videos that started up in this volume felt necessary to the crew.

Some General and Unfiltered Thoughts

While I know people have some issue with the whole Neptune - Weiss - Jaune part of the season, it doesn't really bother me, personally. It's just kind of there. I mostly just end up feeling bad for Pyrrha the whole time until Jaune gets his head on straight.

I find that the season's humor has improved. There's a few jokes that don't work for me, but over all I found myself laughing more. It feels like they're finding their footing a little better in that department here.

The foreshadowing is through the roof this volume, and given what happens in V3... Well. Let's just say it was warranted. Our trio of baddies take the stage and set us up for the inevitable fall.

While I love the Food Fight and the RWBY vs Roman fight I think the fights during the Mountain Glen arc (before and after the train) are kind of meh? A lot of it is split screen shots, and while CFVY's entrance is cool the rest feels... anticlimatic. Which I understand is a little bit of the point in regards to episode 12 but when viewed in a vacuum it's... not my favorite.

Genuinely the Burning the Candle Bee scene still remains one of my favorite scenes in the entire show. The lighting is gorgeous for early RWBY, Barb and Arryn do a great job, and the music is on point. There's just something so warm (heh) about that entire interaction and I will fight anyone who says this wasn't some of the best stuff in the first three volumes.

Music, as always, fantastic. Though I still cannot stand the rap in Caffeine.

[cocogum]

The Afton kids adoption theory is very dumb. Here’s why.

I never understood the logic behind thinking that William adopted Michael, Elizabeth and the Crying Child for experimenting on them.

Like what makes people think that he took the time of his day to file adoption papers, buy scholarly books, toys, essentials like toothbrushes and clothes and extra food to feed them if the man absolutely despises kids????

People are trying to justify him having kids without putting Mrs. Afton in the picture and that is a load of crap. Just because that woman isn’t around and her name hasn’t been revealed to us, doesn’t mean William adopted three random kids to experiment on them. If he really wanted to experiment on kids without having to go through all the paperwork and human growth process, he would have simply kidnapped three children and kept them in his office. That’s it.

Like, think about it for a second.

The idea of William adopting kids is such a far-fetched theory that it makes William look completely out of character. If he adopted Michael to experiment on him, why would he willingly let him have friends (aka C.C’s bullies) and go outside?

If he adopted Elizabeth to experiment on her, why would he not let her get close to Baby but let other kids get closer?

If he adopted C.C to experiment on him, why would he warn him through the golden Freddy plushie to be wary of his surroundings and promise him that he’ll put him back together?

Also, the idea of the Afton children being humanoid robots (like the Charlie from the Silver Eyes book trilogy) doesn’t make any sense either since we see C.C’s head almost getting crushed to death by Fredbear (before he eventually dies from it), Elizabeth’s whole body getting squashed inside of Baby’s and Michael’s organs and insides getting scooped by Ennard.

But let’s say the Afton children weren’t robots or weren’t being adopted by William to get tested on and used. Let’s say, that William genuinely wanted kids but wasn’t able to get into a relationship with anyone due to him being off-putting (no joke he was described as being a very odd man in the books). If that was true, then how could it have been possible for Michael to have said that the Funtimes mistook him for William if he was only his adoptive son? The Funtimes didn’t know who Michael was at first but once they took a good look at him, they genuinely thought he was his father. If he got adopted by him, then that line of his would have never existed. Since Sister Location confirmed to us that Michael was biologically related to William, that detail also helps us to confirm that C.C is also related to William due to Micheal and C.C having some physical similarities like their iconic brown hair and their skin colour (grown-up Michael’s skin becomes more similar to C.C’s). As for Elizabeth, she has the same accent as her father and oldest brother which confirms that she got her looks from her mother (their accents are very important for this part since they all live in Hurricane Utah so the chances of finding other british accents in the 1980s in that area is very improbable).

The adoption theory is literally one of the worst fnaf theories I have ever heard in the entire community. And that is saying a lot if you’ve been a fan since 2014.

The man simply got married, divorced his wife after the bite of 83 and got to keep his remaining kids due to having won the lawsuit against his wife. (Proof of the lawsuit scene was in the Security Breach retro CDs if you don’t remember) .

It’s as easy as that. William never adopted for experimentations. If he did, his energy and time being wasted on three experiments wouldn’t have made sense if all he wanted from them was remnant. William also never adopted for the faint of heart since his children got his and his wife’s looks. And finally, William never built his children because their deaths proved they were actual humans.

There were no indications, proof or evidence in the games and books that suggested the Afton children were adopted by William. If anything, there were much more to say about the children being biologically related to him rather than the opposite. This theory had way too many plot holes and more questions than answers that it might as well just turn itself into a headcanon for the fans to enjoy.

[bciphergrl]

Ello everyone! I know that we, the fans of Tophat On A Stage, have been celebrating the death of Chip Rotwood Jr. That horrible jerk will never be missed. But that's not what I'm here to talk about. Oh no no no! For today's theory, it's related to the purple titan itself. You see, the creator just released her newest comic, issue 52. It dives into the types of reoccurring dreams that Newton keeps having. I'm focusing more into the fact that he has been keeping seeing the purple titan more often, since the death of Jr. But I know that you're here to listen to my theory, not me explaining what happened in the comic. So, here's my theory: the purple titan isn't gone for good.

I know. It sounds pretty vague. Just let me explain to get your gears rolling as much mine has. I get it that the purple titan is dead. I don't doubt that. The creator of Tophat On A Stage literally confirmed that multiple times (even in her recent fun facts of the week) before and there's definite proof in the movie "Out Walking The Dog 2".

(Seriously, go give it a rewatch, if you don't believe me.) HOWEVER she didn't say anything about a possible of it being gone for good. I can already hear someone saying "But how is that possible for it to still exist, if it was already killed, before the comic series even started?". That's a good question. I have re-read the comics to get a better answer to it. It's honestly rather simple. The remnant within Newton. You see, Marlon has remnant of the yellow titan within him and uses it's powers. This applies to Newton as well. He was only to finally use the power of the purple titan (even though unintentional), assuming, for the first time out of fear of Jr ending his life.

Despite those two titans being dead, I believe that having a remnant of them allows them to still use their powers. Marlon has demonstrated that more than plenty of times within the comic series so far.

After all, the color of his eyes shows which titan. Even though having a remnant of a titan still allows them to use their power, it shouldn't influence them....right?

That might not be necessarily true. We saw how much it mostly changed Marlon. I know you'll probably say "That's because the green titan is the only one who wasn't killed" and you're correct. It's the only one who lived. However, that's doesn't mean that ghosts can't exist. Remnant from ghosts to be exact. What is exactly remnant though? Well, in order to answer that, I'm gonna need to talk a little bit about Five Nights At Freddy's for a moment. It has been mentioned there in the Fazbear Frights books I've read. To save you the pain and suffering from having to read it's complicated lore, both game and book series, I'll just tell you what remnant basically is in the FNAF universe. Remnant is anything that remains after a person's death. This includes memories, feelings and ghosts. It can embedded itself into objects.

But I believe the remnant in the TOAS AU is different in this case. It embeds into a living soul. This can very easily influence a person, especially if using powers more and more often (if that remnant had any in the first place). It could even talk to the living soul in their dreams, if the remnant has a strong enough influence on them. Think about it. Marlon isn't the same person he once was. He has changed into an (almost) entire different person. Who's to say that the same thing can't happen to Newton?

We did see him being able to talk to Captain Pud, since his father is a ghost.

This could apply to the purple titan as well. Just in a different way. For now, he can only see it in his reflection in his dreams. It seems to only interact with him by waving and/or staring at him. It was shown in the last two panels. He was able to see it's titan form more often, since the event with Jr. I think it's possible that the more he uses it's powers, the more likely he'll keep seeing it in it's titan form in his reflection than when it possessed him. It's gonna eventually start to actually talk to him, via influence him into a different person.

It'll be a slow process for Newton, due to only being one titan remnant within. Marlon has a live green titan and a remnant of the yellow titan. So, the influence got to him quicker.

So, in conclusion, the purple titan is dead DEAD. But still around as a ghost in a form of remnant to influence Newton into a different person, whenever it's a good thing or a bad thing. It's more so on the latter in my opinion. This could be important to know this for the future of issue 100. We can only wait and see. But hey! That's just a theory! A Tophat On A Stage theory! Thanks for reading! Have a good day or night and stay hydrated!

(All the images belong to @theizzizzy)

[ciera-richez]

Hello!! Do you have any records of what the failed singer did incorrect during her "pregnancy" or examples of her fake bump please I need be sure that Rob does not have a family with this pig 🙏

Well...personally I think my prior post speaks for itself. And as I said then, as a mother who's gone through pregnancy and childbirth, it's physically impossible for her to look like she never had a baby. No matter what, there's going to be some physical remnants remaining from the ordeal. It doesn't matter how different women are or not...some scientific facts regarding pregnancy/childbirth don't change for each person, and they do physically alter your body on a more permanent level.

I'm telling you...if you look at the picture I posted, which I'm told is new because she's vacationing with friends...there is no way that her body is an "after pregnancy/childbirth" body, especially when it's only been a few months. Her boobs are too small, especially since she claims she's been breastfeeding. There's no "small bump," or "pouch" as I tend to call it, on her lower torso remaining that's ALWAYS there after you have a child because the uterus doesn't shrink fully back to the way it was before you were pregnant. There are no stretch marks, which could easily be "hidden" if she had used a cream to help get rid of them, but not fully invisible.

So, until I see legitimate proof that I'm wrong, when I'm seeing physical things that should be there and aren't, I'll never believe she was ever pregnant or gave birth.