#i get they were restraining him from stopping the sentinels

[panbotter]

All I've been thinking about is

You know?

[starkdirewolflove]

So much happening in X-Men ‘97 this week.

Blue and Gold Team, original suits, Storm and Forge joining the team, Rogue and Roberto leaving to join Magneto, Muir Island, Asteroid M and Sinister controlling Cable.

Magneto had so many great points and lines in this ep, when he told Xavier he only had two words for him I thought he was gonna say “fuck off” instead of “shut up.” Also “your Shi’ar bird queen” is up there with “Milky Way ghetto” for species insults.

Fucking hell those battles at the end of the episode: Morph as the Hulk “Morph smash!” Jean vs Sinister, Beast slapping down sentinels, the blackbird going down with Forge in it, Storm being hit into the ocean and Sinister controlling Cable to attack Jean with his telekinesis. The battle on Asteroid M: Rogue vs Wolverine, Sunspot vs Jubilee and everyone else trying to get Magneto’s helmet. Cyclops showed his true loyalty by stopping Xavier to give Jean and the others more time to stop Bastion but it put them all in the difficult position of having to face Magneto’s wrath.

Holy shit, Wolverine for the win trying to kill Magneto while the others were all restrained but to quote Thanos “you should’ve gone for the head.”

Magneto was taking no shit from anyone anymore “this feud ends,” then he rips the adamantium from Wolverine’s skeleton.

How are they gonna top this with next week’s finale? I can only guess that once Bastion is dealt with that the cliffhanger will be that Apocalypse is back and (fingers crossed) he brings Gambit back as Death.

[wqintraining]

NEW X-MEN: THE ANIMATED SERIES - SEASON 1, EPISODE 13 (PART 2 of 2) (SEASON FINALE)

We open many years ago in a time and place we’ve seen before. A conservatively dressed, teenage Jean Grey steps out of a car, arriving at the Xavier Institute and looking at it in awe. As she comes through the front gates, Professor Xavier and his four X-Men come to greet her outside. While Xavier is polite and cordial and Iceman couldn’t seem any less interested, Cyclops, Beast, and Angel all introduce themselves overly eagerly with lustful intentions.

While Jean seems less than impressed and put off by Warren and Hank, respectively, she’s charmed by Scott’s approach as he takes her hand, bends down, and kisses it. While she giggles as he does this, when he stands up, he finds he’s now shrouded in darkness, and Jean’s eyes are aflame.

In one swift motion, she reaches into his chest and pulls his heart out.

JEAN: “We are the reason your heart beats, and yet you break ours? You do not deserve this, Scott Summers.”

Scott falls over onto his back as the two both become their adult selves. Jean grins down at Scott as his eyes bulge and his body convulses as he bleeds out from the gaping wound in his chest.

We cut straight to another past event, this one somewhere we haven’t been before. A slightly younger Emma Frost, Sebastian Shaw, Mastermind, and other men all dressed like they’re from the 1800s have a toast to their new Black Queen. Said Black Queen is revealed to be Jean, who joins them in their toast, adding in that’s it to their defeat of the X-Men, and the world which will soon be theirs.

Cyclops, Storm, Colossus, and Nightcrawler, all captured and restrained, look on in horror as they call out to their friend, shouting at her that they’re brainwashing her in an attempt to reach her.

Emma possessively puts an arm around Jean, evil smirks on both of their faces, and asks what she has to say to these peasants for insulting them like this.

Jean’s eyes ignite as she spins around and tears Emma’s arm off. As Emma screams in agony and darkness surrounds them, the two become their modern selves.

JEAN: “You have always been a wicked witch, Emma Frost. We gave you a second chance, and you failed in the worst way you could have: you corrupted a good soul. You do not deserve the gift of life.”

As Emma continues to scream, we cut to her bedroom in the Institute, where Rachel is sweating, spell circles over both Scott and Emma’s heads.

RACHEL: “Come on, come on, come on…”

There’s a flash of red light and Rachel is sent flying back across the room as Cyclops and Emma jolt awake, gasping.

While Emma is struggling to compose herself, Rachel gets up, rubbing her “roughed up booty”, and asks her dad if he’s feeling well enough she can smack him for being a dirty cheater.

SCOTT: “...what have I done?”

The room turns silent as he and Emma continue to shiver.

In her estate, Nova sips her tea with her eyes closed. Every sentinel she’s deployed has been destroyed, but she still has 20 left. And with the Dark Phoenix coming to Earth, everything is falling into place.

In space, we find the Dark Phoenix speeding past planet after planet on her way back to Earth, a manic grin spread across her face, and the phoenix aura ten times her size.

In the Blackbird, Storm is arming every single one of the ship’s weapons they don’t normally use, Betsy seated in the front next to her. In the back of the ship, Kitty is clearly freaking out, and just trying to stay composed. Roberto, smiling with all his shiny teeth showing, asks what she’s so worried about.

ROBERTO: “You love bragging about how many times you’ve saved the world! And unless you were betraying your poor friend’s trust and lying to me, you’ve saved the whole universe. Why do you think this time will be any different?”

KITTY, holding herself: “Would you believe me I told you things have never been this bad? The X-Men have stopped the Phoenix, they’ve stopped armies of Sentinels, and they’ve stopped evil telepaths, but never all at once. And never because of our own mistakes.”

Roberto asks Kitty exactly what she means, with her everyone for this situation. Scott for being a dick who couldn’t keep it in his pants and for bringing Emma in in the first place, Emma for “seducing” Scott, Jean for not just crying into a tub of ice cream after getting cheated on like a normal woman, and the rest of them for not noticing how “too good to be true” Jean had been lately, and not seeing that she was one trigger away from blowing up.

KITTY: “I’m supposed to be the smart one, aren’t I?”

Roberto laughs and shakes his head. Maybe they did all screw up. Maybe they should have done more. And maybe the situation right now is more dire than ever. But they have a plan, and they need to trust it.

ROBERTO: “Never, ever, second guess a plan.”

Kitty still doesn’t seem reassured, so Roberto makes her a bet: If they survive this with no one getting killed, he gets to use her makeup whenever he wants, without asking.

Kitty giggles. “And if someone does die?”

ROBERTO: “Not going to happen, so not worth thinking much about. I don’t know…I’ll buy you something pretty?”

Kitty snort laughs.

ROBERTO: “There she is!”

KItty sighs as she calms down. “I wish I could be as carefree as you, Beto.”

ROBERTO: “It’s a gift.”

With the Blackbird ready to go, Storm shouts on the coms, demanding to know where Wolverine is.

Elsewhere in the institute, Laura tells her she’ll be there in two minutes. She’s making sure they’re ready.

Laura arrives in the medical bay, where the training squad and Roxy surrounded Noriko, who Beast’s just finished patching up. Several former X-Men are far more severely wounded and are asleep in beds.

BEAST: “Well, Ms. Kinney, I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that you didn’t actually break anything in your little scuffle, but you did give the poor girl a concussion. I believe an apology is in order, yes?”

LAURA: “Sorry.”

Noriko flips her off with both hands.

As everyone walks out of the med bay on Beast’s request so that he can look after his more in-need patients, Julian asks what she’s doing here. Shouldn’t she be with the X-Men?

LAURA: “Yes. And so should you.”

Laura tells them that they were right. She was worried about them, and she didn’t want them getting hurt, especially not because of her, but the amateurs she saw in that foodfight at the start of the semester don’t even resemble who Wind Dancer, Surge, and Hellion are now. The rate of their growth has been incredible. And while she’s sure they’re not done growing, they are ready.

LAURA: “All of you are.”

Brian and the other girls look shocked. Laura tells Cessily that she was in that foodfight too. Is she going to tell her she’s stayed stagnant while those three have grown so much? And while Sooraya may lack experience fighting villains, her performance scores have always kept up with Surge and Wind Dancer’s.

LAURA: “You two believed in me that I could handle Sabretooth. I believe you two can handle this.”

Laura looks to Brian.

Brian shakes his head. “No. I can’t do it. Literally! I literally cannot fight giant robots!”

Laura smirks. “Obviously. But if one comes to the school, you can make them run away, and no one HAS to fight them.”

Brian is nervous, but appreciates the vote of confidence. And he does want to help.

BRIAN: “I can do that, Creepy Girl. I can do that.”

Julian cheers.

JULIAN: “This is so IT! Everyone else in school already knows I’m the best Mutant here besides Laura and deserve to be an X-Man too, and by the end of today, Storm will see that too.” Julian takes Sofia’s hand. “I promised you we’d be heroes together. And now I’m gonna show you what a hero I can be.”

Sofia grins.

SOFIA: “I have been afraid. I have been afraid of being hurt again, and of how I can hurt others.” She clenches Julian’s hand. “But I know that so long as I have all of you at my side, I have nothing to fear.”

Noriko groans.

NORIKO: “I still think anyone who wants to be an X-Man is cuckoo banana pants crazy.” Noriko cracks her shoulder. “So call me crazy, I guess.”

Cessily and Sooraya nod in agreement. Roxy is clearly terrified by what’s going on, so Cessily wraps her arms around her and kisses her on the lips. She promises they’re all coming home safe.

CESSILY: “I am NOT setting a world record for shortest lived relationship by getting killed!”

Laura grins. These are her friends. These are the people she can count on to watch her back.

LAURA: “Let’s go.”

As the Blackbird takes off, the four adults and six kids heading off to take on Nova, Scott and Emma rush toward the hangar so they can take one of their smaller ships so they can intercept Dark Phoenix before she reaches Genosha, Scott having been contacted by Xavier, while Emma gets a headache from the psionic energy Jean is emanating from across the solar system.  

EMMA: “I haven’t touched hard drugs in years, but my mind is going to need them to recover from all this. Care to join me, Mr. Summers?”

SCOTT: “Don’t. Don’t make jokes. Don’t talk to me. We made a mistake. A big one. The only reason you’re coming with me instead of Rachel is if killing us is the only thing which will make Jean calm down. Even if we live through today, this is never happening again.”

EMMA, sarcastically: “Oh no, I’m so crushingly disappointed. Wherever will I find another man like you?”

Scott makes it into the hangar and, while he isn’t looking, Emma is visibly more upset by his words than she let on.

In the Blackbird, Hellion and Wind Dancer are holding hands, nervous but excited to prove themselves, Surge is anxiously tapping her foot at super speed, Mercury is struggling to stay solid with all the nerves she’s feeling, and Dust is praying. Laura meanwhile gets psychically linked up to Storm and Betsy.

Storm wants to know if Laura really trusts her friends for this mission. There’s no doubt they’re talented, but she should have consulted her on this instead of running off on her own and giving her no choice but to bring them. Laura promises they proved themselves to her. If she’s really an equal X-Man to the others, they’ll trust her judgement.

Storm takes a breath.

STORM, under her breath: “Just like you, Logan.”

As the Blackbird rockets toward Nova’s estate, she finally stands from her seat. It’s time to get her hands a little dirty. As she exits her parlor, she psychically deploys all of her remaining sentinels.

The sentinels meet the Blackbird in the sky, or at least some of them do, as others fly off in other directions. Storm quickly calls out orders, telling Hellion and Wind Dancer to keep themselves as well as Sunspot, Laura, Surge, Dust, and Mercury airborn to deal with the sentinels, while Kitty pilots the Blackbird to back them up with its weapons, and she and Betsy make the final push toward Nova.

Everyone does as they are told as they all leave the plane, except for Kitty.

KITTY, over coms: “Beto, let’s try not to embarrass ourselves in front of the kids, alright?”

ROBERTO, floating in the sky, surrounded by sentinels with the kids: “Roberto Da Costa hasn’t embarrassed himself once in his life.”

JULIAN: “Phh. Please, Professor. Even I know that isn’t true. Now come on! Enough talk! Let’s show these tin cans what the next generation of mutants is all!...about.”

Jullian’s face falls as he looks a sentinel in the eyes and freezes up. He lets go of Sofia’s hand as his own shakes.

WIND DANCER, concerned: “Hellion?”

Still flying toward Genosha, Scott has Emma put him in contact with Magneto. Charles has already contacted Erik and informed him of the situation. He pities Jean, and should her wrath burn away all that he protects, even after death, he will never forgive Cyclops.

MAGNETO: “I expected more from you.”

Scott, hanging his head: “So did I.”

Cyclops asks if Scarlet Witch is backing him up. If he and Emma can’t calm Jean down, Wanda is the only person on Earth even capable of hurting Dark Phoenix. Magneto tells him that she isn’t even on Earth right now, instead fulfilling her mystical duties in another realm. Quicksilver and Polaris are similarly pre-occupied. He has other combatants on Genosha, but none that he’s willing to throw into this particular line of fire. All Scott can do is promise they’ll be there as soon as they can.

In the distance, Magneto can see more sentinels coming.

MAGNETO: “See that you do.”

With a pan across the ocean, we see that Nova’s estate is actually on an island only a few miles away from Genosha.

Nova calmly walks out of her house and shuts it behind her, only to grin wildly and leap out of the way as Storm calls down a bolt of lightning to strike her. Nova’s eyes light up as she looks into the sky and sees Storm and Captain Britain.

NOVA: “Storm! A pleasure to meet a goddess face to face! I hope you can live up to that title.” She turns her head to Betsy. “And you brought a friend. Captain Britain, yes? I should be honored to me a hero of your calibur…but I always preferred your brother.”

The two veteran heroes are unphased by Nova’s taunts, with Storm ordering Nova to call off her attack before they’re forced to make her.

STORM: “For all your crimes against your own people, there is no salvation for you, but you can still escape the full extent of my wrath.”

Nova hums as she rolls her head around, confusing Ororo and Betsy.

NOVA: “Wrath. One of my favorite words. And one of my favorite things to demonstrate.”

With her grin spreading unnaturally across her face, Nova blasts Nova and Betsy out of the sky with a psychic wave. Storm and Betsy get right back up, however, and with the winds summoned and sword and shield drawn, the two charge into battle.

Nearby, Sunspot is punching and blasting away at all the Sentinels in the sky, while Laura chops them up, Surge and Dust hit them with everything they’ve got, and Kitty provides cover fire from the Blackbird, Hellion is frozen, with Wind Dancer having to keep everyone airborn herself, while also keeping Julian from getting killed, and Cessily is crying, using her powers purely to dodge and run away in terror, shouting that she’s sorry and she can’t do this.

KITTY, taking note of what’s going on: “Dammit.”

SUNSPOT, over comms: “Care to step in with a motivational speech? Those aren’t really my style.”

Kitty pinches her forehead.

KITTY, over comms: “Don’t have time for this. Wind Dancer, get everyone to the ground and get Hellion out of there! Wolverine, grab Mercury NOW and jump! Surge, Dust keep up the good work! We are not losing anyone!”

Laura, pissed and growling, tries to reach Cessily, but a Sentinel gets in her way, delaying her. Wind Dancer meanwhile completely ignores orders, instead adding to her current tasklist by going on the offensive against the sentinels herself, slicing away at their outer armor with sharp winds, and by electing to do something different about the current problem they face.

WIND DANCER: “Julian, I understand you’re afraid, believe me, I understand, but we need you right now.”

HELLION: “I…I can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I can’t.”

Kitty once again shouts at Sofia to get everyone down NOW, while Laura continues to fight, and Mercury is clearly getting tired.

WIND DANCER: “Please. Don’t you want to be a great hero?”

Julian tenses up, clenching his fists and on the verge of tears.

HELLION: “Do I look like a hero, Sofia? Guess I was all talk. Ashida will get a good kick out of–”

Sofia slaps him. Julian is confused, but Sofia just looks at him sternly.

SOFIA: “There are two things I know about my new boyfriend. Number one: He never doubts his greatness. And number two: He’d never, ever, do anything which would make Noriko look better than him.”

JULIAN: “Sofia…”

SOFIA: “ARE you my new superhero boyfriend, or are you going to tell everyone at school that Surge is better than Hellion?”

The two stare each other down…until Julian untenses and smirk spread across his face.

JULIAN: “Not a chance.”

Julian gives Sofia a quick kiss on the lips before shrounding everyone in his TK fields and jumping into the fight to save Mercury from an incoming attack.

HELLION: “Sorry about that, everyone! It won’t happen again. Now you get out of your funk too, Cess! I know you’re better than this!”

Using his TK, Julian helps Mercury re-solidify in her base form and carries away her tears.

JULIAN: “Remember when we met? I told you how you could show everyone at school everything your awesome body can do. Time to show the world.”

With a warm, charming style from Julian, Cessily sniffles one more time before recomposing herself.

Laura finally takes out the sentinel she was fighting and reaches the two, Sofia flying over to them at the same time.

LAURA: “You three ready to actually help now?”

MERCURY: “If you and Julian know I can do this, then I have to accept it.”

SOFIA: “Apologies for the delay.”

Laura smirks “Good. Couldn’t have you all making me look dumb.”

The four of them re-enter the main fray together.

In the sky above Genosha, Magneto battles a whole squad of sentinels by himself. Impressive as that is, he notes that this shouldn’t even be a fight at all, yet somehow they’re somewhat resistant to his magnetism. There’s something different about these sentinels.

Scott and Emma finally arrive, ready to back Erik up, but as Emma carries the two of them out of their ship, something odd happens: Magneto, the sentinels, and all the in-progress attacks are frozen in place.

EMMA: “I don’t suppose there are any Mutants on Genosha with control over time?”

SCOTT: “Not that I’m aware of.”

The two shield their eyes from a blinding light as Jean, still shrouded in a massive Dark Phoenix force, cackles. She’s been waiting for them. And she wanted some privacy. Before she burns this world to ashes, she wants to do some quick “couples counseling”.

Storm attacks Nova were lightning strikes and winds clearly far heavier than Sofia’s, but they fail to do anything against Nova’s psychic shield, as she leaps into the sky and launches another psychic wave at Ororo and Betsy. This time, Betsy is able to block the attack with her shield, though it does leave her with a bloody nose.

NOVA: “Hmm. Best deal with you first.”

Nova’s eyes glow white as Betsy’s forcibly turn purple. As Storm continues her assault on Nova, Nova’s battle with Betsy takes to the astral plane, as giant, psychically projected versions of themselves engage in combat, with Betsy unable to do anything against Nova’s raw power but play defense.

NOVA: “I can’t say I know anything about you personally, Captain, but do you really believe you’re fit to stand in Brian Braddock’s shoes? You wear those colors, that armor, and represent the greatest country in the world. Nobility or not, is that really a job for a…” she snickers. “...a woman like yourself?”

As Storm finally manages to land a clean hit on Nova, Betsy too is able to start striking back.

BETSY: “You’re the sister of Charles Xavier. You’re a Mutant. What could possibly make you hate us like this?”

NOVA: “If a spider nearly stopped you from being born, if you vividly remembered it trying to kill you, wouldn’t you hate all spiders?”

BETSY: “We are not spiders!”

NOVA: “Nor are you real. Not really. And with every one of you I kill, I make Charles suffer that much more. And that, dear girl, is the only thing that really matters.”

Pulling off a wild aerial maneuver in the Blackbird, Kitty is contacted by Storm over the coms. She’s unsure if she and Captain Britain will be able to defeat Nova on their own. She’s requesting both she and Sunspot come to back them up, not Laura because she doesn’t have the mental defenses necessary to even approach Nova, but she ONLY wants them if she believes Wolverine and the students have the Sentinels handled on their own. It’s her call.

Outside, the kids have gotten their act together, and with Hellion having snapped out of his funk, a leader has emerged.

HELLION: “Wind Dancer, I’ll yank off their armor after you’ve worn them down, then you slash up their insides! Mercury, Dust, stop attacking them head on! Get inside them and mess em up from the inside! Surge, handless fastball!”

Julian, Sofia, Cessily, and Sooraya all do exactly as the former said, taking out several sentinels. As for the “handless fastball”, we see that it involves Surge coating herself in her electrical aura, Hellion putting an additional forcefield around her, and Surge vibrating at super speed before getting launched by Hellion. While this attack hurt’s Nori’s head more than it did in the danger room, it does succeed in putting a hole straight through a sentinel’s chest.

LAURA, over the coms: “Go, Professors. We’ve got this.”

Kitty takes one more moment to mull this over, before calling for Beto to get on board, and wishing them luck.

While the kids are on fire figuratively, it’s literal for Scott and Emma as Jean tortures them both. Emma attempts to fight back, but her psychic attacks peter out in Phoenix’s flames before they can even reach Jean.

Jean laughs.

JEAN: “Oh, Emma. You may be one of the most powerful telepaths on Earth, but you’re still only human.”

Scott begs Jean to stop and to just talk to him, only for Jean to remove his visor and force his eyes open so that she can absorb all of the optic energy he emits.

JEAN: “Consuming a world will take no effort on our part, but regrowing it will. We’ll need to be at our strongest. Consider this an involuntary apology gift, slime.”

While Jean continues to absorb Cyclops’ energy, she also turns some of it onto Emma.

As Emma screams, Jean taunts her.

JEAN: “Isn’t this a little like what you did to Jean Grey’s friends in the old days? We’re certainly enjoying ourselves enough. But unlike them, you’ve done everything to deserve this.”

Scott and Emma are completely helpless.

On both the physical and astral plains, Storm and Captain Britain aren’t fairing much better. Nova’s attacks are now not just hurting Storm, but bypassing her mental defenses to an extent, taunting her with the visuals of what her best friend is doing right now.

NOVA: “These were the people you trusted? You fought Cyclops for leadership of this team once. Perhaps you should have done it again.”

Things are even worse on the astral plane, as Betsy is simply no match for Nova. With each hit her projection takes, her real body gets more and more slashed up. Accepting she can’t win, Betsy elects to at least do what she can.

Captain Britain re-absorbs her astral self into her body and flings herself through the air and Nova.

BETSY, telepathically: “Storm! Cover!”

As Storm shrouds the two telepaths in clouds, purple and white lights flash.

As the clouds clear, Betsy has a psychic knife through Nova’s head, while Nova is gripping Betsy’s.

Betsy falls unconscious, but for the first time, Nova actually seems to be disoriented and in pain.

NOVA: “What did you do to me you little–?”

Storm cuts her off as she shifts the atmosphere around Nova to an unbearably hot temperature.

STORM: “The psychic knife shuts down a normal person’s mind, no matter their defenses. It seems it only weakened you.” With perfect timing, the Blackbird arrives, Kitty and Sunspot phasing through it and dropping down next to Storm. “But we can do the rest.”

Having gotten into a perfect rhythm and executing Julian’s orders perfectly, the kids are having the time of their lives. They’re all clearly proud of themselves, but none moreso than Laura for having made the right call in bringing them.

LAURA: “Only two left. Take them out.”

Nova meanwhile laughs. Kitty, who makes a remark that she really never needed to know what Professor Xavier with boobs would look like, questions what’s so funny.

NOVA: “What’s so funny? A lot of things in this world. Crying babies, natural disasters, wide-spread plagues and diseases…and dead children.”

As the six kids move to take out the two remaining sentinels, the machines’ eyes turn white, and a new layer of armor forms around each of them.

NOVA: “You didn’t think I’d played all my cards, did you?”

While Wolverine, Hellion, Wind Dancer, and Surge focus on attacking one of the two remaining sentinels, with little success, Mercury and Dust are able to circumvent the new armor and get inside the other one. However, once they’re inside, it electrocutes them both. As the girls scream in agony, Hellion panics and abandons his current battle to go and pull them out of there.

HELLION: “I’m the one who’s about to become an X-Man! I’m not letting any of my squad get killed here!

Julian is successfully able to extract his friends from the death machine and help them re-form before they fall unconscious.

HELLION: “Sleep tight, girls. Leave the rest to me.”

While both Storm and Sunspot blast away at the weakened Nova, the older woman now needing to actively deflect their attacks instead of passively shielding herself, Laura, Sofia, and Noriko are knocked around by one of the sentinels, unable to damage it. Wolverine shouts at Hellion to stick with the group and back them up, but he says he’s not backing down again, and is gonna make this thing pay for hurting his friends.

HELLION: “I’m never doubting myself again.”

WIND DANCER: “You idiot! This isn’t what I meant!”

Proudly proclaiming that he’s the strongest here, Hellion attempts to fight one of the “super-sentinels” on his own, throwing everything he has at it.

The results are disastrous, as the sentinel counterattacks and blasts off both of Hellion’s hands.

Everything goes silent, with Julian in shock, and horror on Sofia and Laura’s faces, before Julian cries hysterically and screams at the top of his lungs as his stubs gush blood.

Jean continues to torment Scott and Emma, both with her flames, and with more visions, as Scott gets a highlight reel of the two’s most romantic moments to shame him, while Emma is taunted with the ghosts of the Hellions, Synch, and Skin, as well as one other man. Someone who appears slightly older than Emma, but sickly, with a shaved head and a scar across his neck, who lays in a hospital bed with empty eyes.

JEAN: “Christian Frost. How did you ever think someone like you could protect anyone else if you couldn’t even protect your own brother? Destruction is all you’re good for.”

Emma seemingly cracks, but while she is hurt…

EMMA: “Fine! You win, goddess! I’m a monster! But if you’re poking around in my head, you know that I’m not ignorant about this fact! Can you say the same for yourself, or do you honestly believe you’re granting the world, and not yourself, a boon by ending it? I hope you can’t see that, because that means you don’t realize…” Emma cackles as she chokes on her own blood before it dribbles now her chin. “That means you don’t realize the final thing humanity will learn is that Emma Frost was a better hero than Jean Grey.”

The Phoenix’s grin disappears as Jean gets pissed.

The X-Men continue to battle Nova, who, between Storm and Sunspot’s attacks, and her focus being drawn toward Kitty, needing to stay aware of her at all times as she phases across and underneath the battlefield so she can’t grab her, is being worn down. But she refuses to go down and changes tactics.

With their mental defenses not as strong as Storm’s, Nova takes control over Sunspot and Kitty’s minds and forces them to fight her for her.

The kids are all mortified by what’s happened to Julian, as he continues to screams. Surge in a panic and talking super fast asks Wolverine what they should do, but with Laura flashing back to when she killed her mom, she’s frozen up. Sofia makes the call herself. They have 3 down, one critically injured, and they don’t know how to fight these new sentinels; they have to retreat.

Sofia carries everyone down to the ground, while the sentinels fly off toward their original destination.

WIND DANCER: “It’s going to be okay, Julian. I promise. Surge! Cauterize his wounds!”

SURGE: “Wh…what?”

WIND DANCER: “You should be able to do that, right? Do it now!”

While Surge charges up her hands, closing her eyes and cringing as she takes hold of Julian’s bloody nubs to cauterize them, Laura stands over her friends. Julian was maimed, Mercury and Dust are unconscious and were nearly killed, Surge is a mess, and she’s sure Wind Dancer is just forcing herself to keep a brave face.

LAURA: “I’m sorry, everyone.”

Laura falls to her knees.

Cyclops tells Dark Phoenix to kill them if she has to, but please, spare the world. He knows Jean, he knows Phoenix, and this isn’t what either of them want to do. They’ll regret it for all eternity, just like last time.

DARK PHOENIX: “Do not dare tell us what we want!”

CYCLOPS: “I’m not telling you what you want. I’m telling you what I know about you. I made a mistake. A horrible mistake I can never undo. I’m…I’m realizing things. About who I am. About my life. And not everything is how I thought it was. But I swear, I love you just as much as the day we met. And there’s no one in the world who knows you better.”

The Dark Phoenix falters, uncertainly appearing on her face, watching a vision of her and Scott’s first meeting, as it transitions into her and Scott’s wedding. She looks back at Scott solemnly.

Storm dodges Sunspot and Kitty’s attacks as she tries the old tactic of telling the two to get a hold of themselves.

STORM: “That never works.”

Storm flies up into the sky and, with a singlie bolt of lightning, knocks out Sunspot. She’s going to hit Kitty next, but when she realizes she’s disappeared, she’s momentarily distracted. Nova takes full advantage of this, seizing the split second to hit Storm will a full force mental blast. The goddess bleeds from her eyes as she’s brought to her knees.

As Storm shakes, Nova hunches over to her and puts a gun to her head.

NOVA: “Any last words?”

STORM: “I am no telepath. But I hear your words. And your actions speak louder than they ever could. You have nothing but hate inside in your heart.”

NOVA: “And all the happier for it.”

We go into slo-mo as Nova starts pressing down on the trigger, but before she can fire, Storm grabs her and gives her the full electrocution treatment, stunning Nova, making her scream in pain like she’s done to so many others, and breaking down the last of her physical defenses.

But she still stands, while Storm falls over. Nova, scorched all over her body and barely standing, laughs at Storm. She knows she could have killed her there. But she didn’t. She’s too good and pure for that. And too stupid to know better.

Nova pistol whips Storm.

NOVA: “Oh, it would have been fun to break you. Alas, I had to settle for Cyclops. Watching him kill Stryker was amusing though.”

Storm is barely conscious, but her eyes still express shock at that.

Nova puts the gun to Storm’s head once more.

But once again, she’s stopped. This time, courtesy of Katharine Anne Pryde, as she emerges from the ground and uppercuts Nova. Nova’s eyes fill with shock and bloody flies out of her mouth as her jaw is broken, and she’s knocked unconscious.

KITTY: “Count yourself lucky, you monster. I could have killed you too.”

Kitty helps Storm up, with Storm saying she cut that a little close. Betsy and Sunspot, both now conscious, approach the two, leaning on each other, express how they only had one shot at this, and needed to make sure they got it right.

Turns out, Betsy wasn’t fully knocked out by Nova’s attack; she only made her think she was, and she was in bad enough shape to sell it. She snapped Kitty out of Nova’s brainwashing, and hid her mind while she was underground so that, once Storm had sufficiently weakened her, she could nail her with a surprise attack to finish her.

BETSY: “I have to say, Sunspot, I wouldn’t have taken you for a strategist.”

ROBERTO: “Oh, you know, I’m a man of many talents.”

Kitty laughs, and checks in with the kids on the coms…only to see how they’re doing in person.

Laura, Sofia, and Noriko approach the adults, each carrying one of their friends on their backs. Laura’s eyes are lifeless, Noriko can’t stop looking at all the blood on her gauntlets, and Sofia is struggling not to cry.

Despite being in bad shape themselves, the adults rush over to the kids to look after them. Beto and Betsy look after their injured, while Kitty hugs Noriko, and Storm hugs Laura and Sofia.

Jean looks at Scott lovingly. “Please” is all he has left to say. She turns to Emma and sneers.

JEAN: “What of you? Are you willing to give your life for this world?”

Emma sneers right back at Jean.

EMMA: “Well, that is why I was brought along.” She pauses. “But before you smite me, power down, and make a half-hearted attempt to salvage a marriage which was dead before it even started, I want you to look at me, really look at me, and tell me that is what you desire.”

SCOTT: “Emma, what are you–”

EMMA: “Shhhh.”

Jean and Emma continue to stare each other down. Until Jean smiles, not with the burning intensity of Phoenix, but with gentle warmth. They have made their decision: Earth does not burn today.

Scott and Emma’s face light up, only for Jean to utter a dower, “However…”

On the Blackbird, Nova, who’s been equipped with power-dampening handcuffs, is still barely conscious as it turns out, and she laughs, coughing as she does so. Kitty asks what’s so funny about heading to a life imprisonment.

NOVA: “That doesn’t matter. None of this matters. The second the Dark Phoenix was in play, my victory was already assured.”

While Betsy is banding up Hellion, the others look at Nova with concern, demanding she tells them what’s going on.

NOVA: “You’re about to find out.”

Jean grins evily as she flares up her power even further. The world may not burn today, but they must still pay. Their betrayal must have consequences.

JEAN: “And so, you shall both die. You shall die among the people we three vowed to protect.”

Scott and Jean panic, but there’s nothing left to say. Time unfreezes as Scott and Emma are transported to Genosha.

With Magneto nowhere to be seen, the two broken down heroes are helpless as the sentinels fly over Genosha and firebomb the entire country.

In the Blackbird, Betsy drops to her knees in silent horror as she sees what’s happened. She shares the vision with the others, with Storm and Betsy taking the sight similarly to her,  while Kitty screams and cries.

Season 1 ends on the sight of Genosha completely destroyed, and 16 million Mutants dead.

[the-faramir]

Extinction Curse Session 2024/06/12

The Siege of Willowside

Day 3 (Part 2)

With the party ready to enter the sea caves, Zookdar led the way, as he could see in the darkness with his dark vision. Midori followed closely behind with Galon. Lysander brought up the rear.

At the bottom of the stairs, the path turned to the right to head northward. Zookdar noted a chalk arrow on the wall, pointing right at him. Zookdar held up a hand to halt the adventurers as they passed by an entrance to a cave on the left. "Let me take a look before we head in. Hmmm," Zookdar mused, "a sea cave. A pile of bones at the far end near a tunnel where the seawater enters. And about a foot of water on the floor. You can drown in a foot of water. Plus, I suspect this cavern is a trap of sorts. Let's move on."

The party walked northward to a split in the passageway, leading downward to the west, to a dead-end alcove to the north, and to another cavern in the northeast. "Let's go to the northeast," Zookdar suggested.

The cavern opened up into a wide area on higher ground with only a few shallow puddles on the floor. Midori noted an elegant, grooved pattern on the wall and patterns etched into the floor, depicting reptilian figures. "Says here, 'Praise to the Water Lizard.' Ha ha, we're off to see the Lizard: the wonderful Lizard of Water!"

Suddenly, in the east side of the cavern, what originally appeared to be a pile of overcoats made of wet, rotten leather began to move. Five humanoid forms slowly stood up from the pile and shambled toward the adventurers, snarling mindlessly.

Zookdar sprang into action with a battle cry, which seemed not to affect the approaching enemies. He followed up with strikes from his gnome flickmace, which hit but seemed to do little damage.

Midori moved closer to the action. She sang a verse to inspire courage:

🎶🎶🎶 In the misty caves 'neath the general store Stands a band of heroes, brave evermore With weapons in hand and spells at the ready They face the undead, their courage steady 🎶🎶🎶

Closer to the enemy, she took a good look at them and tried to identify them. "They're waterlogged undead of some sort? I dunno what kind or whether they have a special attack."

As if in reply, the sodden sentinel in the lead opened its mouth and retched up a cone of unctuous, reeking seawater, soaking Midori and Zookdar.

"Awwww! Ewwwww! Nasty!" Midori complained, "It got in my fur!"

Meanwhile, Zookdar yelped in pain. "Void damage! That's their special attack!"

Running in from the hallway, Lysander readied his hex blaster gun for a shot. Stopping to take aim, he fired and hit one of the sentinels.

Galon ran in to get close to an enemy, pounding it with a flurry of blows.

The battle stretched out much longer than the heroes had expected, their attacks not harming the undead as they had hoped. Eventually, Midori landed a critical strike against her foe, cutting it down.

"Yes!" Midori shouted, "How do ya like me now, bitch?!?" She raised her hands in victory....

...just as the fallen foe erupted, spraying its tainted guts all over the party. Fortunately, Midori was able to dodge, but the others were not quite as lucky and received a hard bludgeoning from the flying entrails.

The remaining four undead hit the heroes hard, forcing Midori to retreat to a ranged attack distance.

"Things are not going well," Lysander yelled to his allies, "Let me try something to hold them back!" He called on his magic to form a force cage to restrain the enemy, trapping three of them.

The fourth foe narrowly escaped and shambled toward Midori to attack her. "Ow! Quit it! Guys, I'm not doin' so great over here!" The three trapped undead pounded against the walls of the force cage, causing the bars to crack slightly. "They're gonna break through! What are we gonna do?"

[xprojectrpg]

Moment of Awesome - Maya Lincoln-Lopez/Echo:

Unable to restrain herself from confronting Garrison Kane after his betrayal of the team while undercover.

Maya pulled at her hair, unable to truly understand at the moment why she was so pissed off at him. It had seemed clear back when he’d been brought back but now it felt twisted in her head. She was happy the Sentinel program had been stopped and she was happy he wasn’t dead. But why did it have to be him?

“Because you’re better than that. You’re better than making deals with demon lords and fucking Magneto. And if you aren’t, why am I even trying?”

"This isn't a fair world. Sometimes the only decision we have is a bad decision." Kane said, the strange intensity suddenly backing off a bit. "And believe me, I've paid for my decision to not die. You can't imagine what it is like to send people you loathe out and teach them how to hurt friends. People you trained. Some of them since they were almost children. To crack one of their skulls open because you've worked with him so long you know just how badly you can hurt him before he can't recover. You're right. My hands are dripping with blood."

He paused. "And my reward? For all of those impossible choices? The woman I love is gone. The trust I've earned over the years likewise. I've been living under the threat of death in return for the slightest mistake for months; abuse, rape, humiliation. Literally, every inch of my skin burned away with hellfire while I was awake to experience every second of it. But the Sentinel program is dead for now. The Hell Lord is locked away for a thousand years. The Brotherhood got kicked in the teeth and more importantly, they didn't get a chance to hit us when I wasn't in the position to make them guarantee they wouldn't kill one of our own. Most importantly, I made my decision to make sure in the midst of a moment that three teammates got out safely, even if it meant my life in return. Maybe I went too far. And maybe I can never make it right. But I know that the end result is a lot of innocent people aren't going to have to face the worst this world can throw at them. And if I'm the one who has to pay the price for that, then that's what I'll do."

Maya’s face was wet, but she couldn’t have told you when she started crying just that the litany of what he’d gone through had finally pierced through the red haze of rage that had been riding her for days. She gave him a look filled with sorrow, and regret. She’d done it again, just like with Amanda. She’d taken out the anger that would have been focused inward on her own feelings of helplessness and shame on someone who least deserved it. She’d done exactly what Topaz and Amanda had asked her not to.

“I’m an asshole, I’m so sorry.” she simply said.

"You and me both, kid.." He reached out and traced his thumb down her scars. "I am sorry. If I could have spared you this, I would have. But I knew you were strong enough to handle it. I don't know if that matters, but I believed."

“It does. What you said, what you say always matters to me.” Maya admitted, smiling wryly, not worried at the touch. “I hurt someone. When we were on the mission. I’ve been working with Kyle, Matt, and Natasha to give me better options. I’d like your help too if you don’t want to give up on me completely after how I just acted. When you feel up to it, anyway.”

"I will. And I read the reports. You handed Thornn her ass. And she's a giant piece of garbage." He smiled. "Good job."

[everdino]

I present to you a little gremlin that I have been thinking about for almost half a year, yeah its AU time

Lightningwing or just Light, Lightning, Lighty (only to family and friends)

He is the eldest son of Blitzwing and Bumblebee in my nextgen au (he|him|they|them)

more info under the cut

his name was given to him by his carrier (Bee), who first noted his strong resemblance to his sire (to his own annoyance)

(I realized that Blitz means "lightning" in German after I came up with the name, but I thought it was funny and settled on this name)

he was born on Earth when Blitzwing had already changed factions and lived with the Autobots for a while. His appearance came as a surprise, but both parents, as a result, were waiting for him very much and loved him even more, even if both experienced a little tension before the new responsibility.

Lightning was born with a very nasty character, having received from carrier - stubbornness and self-confidence, and from his sire - quick wit and excellent ability to manipulate others.

to put it simply, he's a bitсh

not in an evil way. Light has a sharp tongue, full of sarcasm that he readily borrows from Blitz, and he knows where to be, what to say and what to do to get what he wants.

He loves both parents very much (Blitz is sometimes a little more, he is such a sires boy), yet he loves to make everyone around him have a hard time for fun, but he knows when to stop so as not to harm

On the surface, he is a calm, quiet, smart little gentleman, unknowingly copying the ice personality of his sire, but as soon as you turn away, he will immediately do some kind of mean trick, with the most smuggest grin, and in the end he will lie so that you will be guilty

Being the firstborn, he was spoiled in many ways, especially by Blitzwing. Bumblebee, being grown by Optimus, was more often engaged in parenting

Thus Blitzwing turned out to be the favorite, but most of all Lightning adores Blitzwing's Hothead personality. Firstly, because since childhood he has been craving protection, since he was born quite fragile, secondly, because he loves warmth and thirdly, and most importantly - When Blitzwing has a furious personality, then he can get what he wants

The little rat knows that Blitz is ready to tear the universe apart for him, and actively uses this when his patience is running out and he wants those who piss him off get paid (at that time it was usually Sentinel, and sometimes Ratchet, but tactics with aggressive sire didnt work against the old man)

he deliberately provoked his offenders in order to receive a little damage (sometimes even inflicted on himself), and then fled under the protection of his sire. He also knew very well that everyone except Bumblebee was afraid of Blitzwing, even though he was under control, and he only needed to growl once to keep everyone at a distance.

Lightning stopped using this when he accidentally went too far and provoked Blitz into attacking. The fear of losing his beloved sire turned out to be stronger than desires, so Light became more careful and restrained. He is spoiled, but not cruel, and it is not in his interest to harm anyone physically.

At least while he was an only child and while he was on Earth. Many things will change for him later

[neverquitelogistical]

Lobalore headcanons because I am tired of waiting for more lobalore content from my fellow shippers and decided to contribute to the ship.

This could be idea for a new fanfic if I am motivated to write. Or I might break it into snippets of a multi chapter fanfic.

1. After the Legacy Antigen Bangalore can't help but notice Loba's absence in her life. Bangs only noticed how inseparable they used to be before the incident

2. Bangalore kinda guessed Loba heard her when she noticed the bouquet in the trash can, but this useless lesbian is too hard-headed (and afraid) to admit her feelings or talk to Loba, because that would mean she had to *talk* about her feelings and it is the one thing that Bangs is bad at.

3. But she kept the bouquet in her dorm. Placed them in a vase and took care of them to maintain the freshness of the flowers, as fresh as the wounds she had unintentionally inflicted on them both

4. Bangs ran into Loba sometimes, and she could only watch from afar as she flirted with Kairi. She was green with jealousy, but not enough to prompt her to walk up to Loba and talk about what happened.

5. It went on like that for a couple of weeks. Sometimes she felt Loba's eyes on her, and when she finally turned to look at her, the thief would pretend to look away. She couldn't tell if Loba was really staring at her or it was just a wishful thinking.

6. And then the simulacrum made his move. Being Loba's shadow, Revenant understood many things, including her closeness with Kairi and also her sudden distance fro Bangalore. But they all know who is the real thief of Loba's heart.

7. Nonetheless, Revenant decided to hit where it hurts the most. He started with attacking Loba while she slept, knocked her unconscious (but not before Loba got a few hits on him) and dragged her to what used to be Tenmei, at the top of Bonsai Plaza.

8. Revenant then released a message to both Kairi and Anita that he would torture Loba at the "place where her worst nightmares resided", then leave her to bleed to death if they don't get to her in time.

9. Of course, Revenant had no intention to kill Loba, that would be too easy. It was a bait to lure them to the restaurant, in which he would be ready with a Sentinel and shoot whoever reached the top floor by the zip line, meanwhile Loba would be restrained and watch helplessly as they die at her feet. The simulacrum had it planned to the tee.

10. Bangalore received the message while she was tending to the flowers, and nearly dropped the vase from anger and horror. She was taunted with his grating voice, and Loba's screams of anger and pain. She easily guessed where Loba was kept.

11. Anita immediately geared up, but decided to call Kairi first. She did not know if they were really dating at the moment, and thought she deserved to know. Valkyrie was silent on the other end of the line, then curtly replied "I'll see you at Bonsai. Bring your deadliest arsenal, Sarge" and hung up.

12. Anita may prefer to suffer alone regarding her feelings, but she knows a pack has a higher chance of winning compared to a lone wolf. So she formed a small team, Lifeline as the medic, Bloodhound and Wraith for tracking and checking out for traps.

13. They reached Bonsai discreetly to avoid alerting the simulacrum, but all caution was thrown to the wind when they heard a blood curdling scream from the top. Ignoring Hound and Blasey's warning Anita rode the zip line to the top where the scream originated from.

14. Just as she reached the top time seemed to slow down. She saw, too late, of Loba's restrained form and wide eyes in warning, with Revenant's dead gleaming eyes watching her and the glint of the Sentinel's barrel. He fired a shot.

15. But Loba used her remaining strength to push her weight towards Revenant, knocking the sniper to the side and the shot went wide. Bangalore did not flinch, drew her G7 but could not get a clear shot as Loba struggled with Revenant who was underneath her. Loba managed to free her legs from her restraints and tried to subdue the simulacrum with her acrobatic skills.

16. The struggle went on a while until a second shot was heard. But it was not from Anita. Both Revenant and Loba stopped dead in their struggle. Anita's heart dropped when she noticed blood pooling beneath Revenant. Simulacrums don't bleed.

17. Anita howled in anguish and unleashed her fury on Revenant when he broke free. Cavalry came in from the skies, when Valkyrie flew in and let loose a hail of arrows from above with pinpoint accuracy. Bloodhound and Wraith soo joined the fight.

18. Revenant may be deadly, but he was no match against a group of highly trained legends of the Apex Games. Anita dealt the final blow when she crushed his head with the butt of her rifle. But they knew it wouldn't kill him. He would just be rebooted again in another metal body somewhere.

19. What happened after was a fight for Loba's life. The bullet went directly through her in between the ribs. Lifeline was there to keep her heart beating, but if they don't hurry she would bleed to death. Anita held her hand on their journey to the nearest medical facility on the planet. Kairi only watched from the side - even when she was with Loba she knew the thief yearned for another person.

20. The surgery was long but at least it was successful. Loba remained unconscious for the next 24 hours but Anita stayed at her side. Hardly slept. She kept her eyes peeled for Revenant, until Kairi and the rest dragged her to a nearby bed and forced her to take a nap. The remaining legends took turns keeping watch.

22. When Loba woke there were tears and confessions exchanged. Anita was afraid to love someone only to watch them get hurt or die, but she realized it was just as likely to happen whether she was with her or not. So she swore she would be with her, and die fighting at her side and defending each other.

23. When she was discharged, they agreed Loba should stay at Bangalore's place until she made a full recovery. And that was when she recognised the bouquet of flowers.

[lovemybluebully]

Danger Room Level 1

Posted this at the beginning of the year on my DA account. Thought I’d throw it up on here. This was my first Wolverine tickle pic in 4 years! O_O

https://www.deviantart.com/lovemybluebully/art/Danger-Room-Level-1-865337680

Wrote a little story to go along with it.

Story is below the ‘Keep Reading’ line.

*/M Tickle Fic (Obviously lol) "Any other surprise challenges for me today, bub? Or is that all ya got?" Wolverine smirked confidently up at the team leader of the X-men, glancing over his shoulder at the pile of rubble consisting of destroyed weaponry and dismembered sentinels and robots of all sizes. Cyclops only sighed as he shook his head and looked down at the Canadian brawler from the control room of their training facility, having exhausted almost every combination of attacks that he could think to throw at him.

These scenarios of Wolverine slicing and dicing up every obstacle and foe were quite predictable and honestly getting a tad boring to watch over and over. Scott decided it was time to try something a little different. "No, this just isn't working. These upper level programs are just all foreseeable for you. Lets try something new. I say we scrap everything and start over from scratch. How about we start you at level 1?"

Logan's smirk disappeared as he frowned up at the other man. "Level 1? Yer kiddin' me, right? That's the program the Professor uses to train the kiddies."

"Trust me Logan it'll be perfect for you. Since you've always skipped over the bottom levels you'll have no idea what they contain so you won't be able to predict them so easily. Hell I don't even know myself exactly what is on each level, but lets give it a shot! Maybe we'll both learn something." Scott actually wasn't lying since he himself had been too competent for those beginner programs when he had joined the X-men. It was likely that Logan would just blow right through them, but he was curious and quite frankly desperate for a change of pace. "Fine. But this is gonna be just a waste o' time," Logan grumbled as he lazily stretched out his arms and cracked his neck. "Don't underestimate the Danger Room and dismiss this program so easily. It may be aimed towards the less experienced, but should still provide its own formidable experience. Remember to stay alert and don't let your guard down." Wolverine just scoffed and blew off his advice like he normally did. "Yeah whatever Slim. Lets get on with it."

"Ok great. Now just a moment here. I'm initiating level 1....," Scott uttered with some fast typing on the control board before pressing one final button, "Now." They waited for a few quiet moments, but nothing happened. Logan was about to quip some sarcastic remark when finally the Danger Room began to show some activity. A compartment on the wall opened and two gloved robotic hands being controlled by metal tentacles began to slowly make their way over to him. Logan snorted in disbelief and shook his head as he looked over the two appendages and noted that they were not holding any kinds of weapons; basically looking completely harmless.

"That's it? This is ridiculous. What's next, a pillow fight? Not that I expected this crap to be any kinda challenge whatsoever," Logan rolled his eyes as he raised his hands into the air and released his deadly claws; ready to dispatch the advancing robot hands with a quick swipe once they closed in. Not even a second later he quickly found his arms ensnared as two metal tentacles had crept in from behind to successfully restrain him much to Logan's shock. He growled as he tried to slice at the tentacles with his sharp claws, but they firmly held his arms away from each other just above his head. The distraction had been just enough that he barely had time to notice that the gloved hands had now reached him as one of them wasted not a moment to grab hold of the hem of his uniform's shirt and roughly jerk it upwards, exposing his bare stomach.

"Hey! What is...?!" He shouted in confusion; his words cut off as the other hand immediately shot forward and buried it's furiously wriggling digits right into his muscular belly.

Logan hadn't listened to Scott. He had let his guard down completely when he had seen this "threat" first enter the room. His overconfidence was now going to be his downfall for mocking the capabilities of the robot hand; the hand that was now ruthlessly tickling him. This tactic was a complete shock to him, and having not put up any of his mental defenses in preparation the laughter exploded out of him as soon as contact was made. "Ahahahaahaa! Wha-Whahahat's goin' ohohohon?! Stahahap thaaat!" He howled out at the mindless hand that relentlessly continued tickling all over his sensitive abdomen; the other hand holding his shirt securely out of the way. Scott too was in complete awe by just what method the program had decided to use, though he couldn't help but grin as he saw the situation that his normally cantankerous teammate was now in. It was already a known fact by the mansion's inhabitants that Logan was surprisingly ticklish as his female team members found it quite endearing and took great delight in ganging up on the burly mutant at times. Heightened senses did have their drawbacks. Still nothing that Scott himself would partake in, knowing that while Logan might put up with it from the ladies he was pretty sure he'd be skewered on the spot if he even made a hint at attempting such a thing. In a way he now felt that he had a sense of power in having Logan in this position. "See? That's what happens when you underestimate the situation, now get to work Logan. Tickling probably isn't a real world offensive that you're going to run into, but no harm in being extra prepared." Wolverine's claws remained out, but he couldn't move his arms enough to free himself. Unable to think straight he continued to fail in his efforts to come up with a strategy to get out of this aside from yelling up at the amused operator in the control room. "Cyyyykehehehee! Tuhuhurn thihis shihihihiiit ohahahahoff!!" Arms bulging he thrashed uselessly in the grip of the tentacles, trying to block the torturous hand from his body by lifting his knee to no avail. He'd been tickled worse than this before, but never had he been this helpless to defend himself. Meanwhile Scott mused over the scene before him. It in fact was a little stupid to be messing with one of the world's deadliest mutant's like this, and he was pretty sure there would be Hell to pay later. His hand hovered momentarily over the button to shut down the Danger Room, but then he pulled back. "No, I think you just need a little more time to figure this out. I have faith in you. I mean, this program is only used to train the 'kiddies', right?" Yup. He was pretty sure Logan was going to kill him after this. "Fuhuhuhuck yooooouuuu!!" Logan cackled as he desperately tried to regain some kind of focus though was only barely able to retract his claws back into his hands, knowing that they were of no use. "Aw c'mon Logan. You're not that ticklish, are you? Can't resist just one little hand tickling you?" Scott couldn't help but tease a bit, having on more than one occasion seen Logan nearly lose his mind from just having his stomach tickled by his teenage sidekick, Jubilee. No sooner had he said that when a third hand began to move in from out of Logan's sight before grabbing the squirming mutant right below his ribs as the fingers playfully dug in over and over again.

"Bwahahahahahahahahaa!! Noooo!! Gehehet 'em offa meeheeheehee!!" Roaring with laughter from the added torture Logan was regretting not taking the lowest level of the Danger Room more seriously. With his arms being held out of the way he couldn't even use them to help guard his body no matter how hard he pulled to free them. It wasn't much longer before his legs began to weaken as he attempted to sink to the floor to hopefully get him a split second of reprieve.

He was allowed to move to the ground, but the hands were unrelenting. With a firm tug the restraining tentacles around his forearms pulled him down onto his back as a few more hands now appeared seemingly out of nowhere to join in tickling under his arms and the other side of his ribcage.

"No!! No!! Stahahahap ihihihihit!! Lemme outtahahaha heeheeheeeere!!" The Wolverine howled as he kicked and squirmed like crazy; his armpits being one of his worst spots. Two other metal tentacles quickly slithered over and grabbed onto each leg to stretch him out and prevent him from curling up in defense. Tears crept out of the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard as so far he had made no progress in getting loose. "Very disappointing Logan. I thought for sure you'd have passed all these lower levels with ease. Well it seems we've uncovered your true weakness. Something that your healing factor won't protect you from. We'll probably have to repeat this level over and over until you get it right," Scott grinned wider, only half serious as he liked to push Logan's buttons at any given opportunity. He was hardly listening though; too focused on the incessant tickle torture. Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse two additional hands made their way over and quickly tugged off his boots, revealing his twitching bare feet as Logan's eyes bulged in panic. "HEY!! Hey hey waahaahaait a m...minute!! No don't!! Not the-AAAHAHAHHAHAHA!!" Fingers wildly scratched at his tender soles, tickling from his wide heels to up under his curled up toes with not a thing he could do to stop them. He was laughing harder than he'd ever had as the tears began to roll down his cheeks. He absolutely could not handle having his feet tickled and once had accidentally kicked Rogue for trying. Luckily she is a tough woman though she used it as an excuse to really punish him with his ankles trapped in the crook of her super strong arm while Logan hysterically cried 'Uncle'. This was more than he could stand. Being spread out and tickled in all his most sensitive spots at once with no way to guard himself was where he drew the line. He loathed the thought of what he was about to do, but he couldn't hold back the frantic pleas that came pouring out. "NAAAHAHAHAHAHOOOO!! N-NO MORE!! STOPSTOP!! PLEEHEEHEEEEASE!! I CAN'T..HAHAHAHAHAA..CAAHAAHAAN'T T-TAKE THIHIHIIS SHIIIIIT!!" Scott was just enjoying the show as he chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "Wow. Who knew? All one has to do to defeat Wolverine is to tickle him and he'll be begging for mercy. Better hope none of your enemies ever find out about this one."

And with that he finally pushed the button to shut down the currently running program in the Danger Room. He'd have been more than happy to let it keep going, but even he could feel some sympathy for his frenemy and knew once he started begging that he had had enough. Logan instantly panted in relief as the hands all stopped tickling him while he was gently released from the restraints, everything then retracting back into the chambers that they had emerged from. A giggle escaped him here and there as he still had a phantom feeling of the fingers all over on his body.

Scott slowly clapped his hands in jest from the control room as he grinned down at the seemingly lifeless body. "Not bad, Logan! I think you almost had it there, but I'm sure you'll do better next time! So what do you think? Ready for level 2?"

The middle claw that immediately popped out of Logan's fist crudely gave him his answer.

[sabraeal]

Family, Duty, Honor [Part 4]

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Game of Thrones AU

It no longer shocks her to awake in an unfamiliar chamber.

It had once; when she awoke that first morning in Highgarden, green silk sheets slick beneath her fingers and the finest emerald velvet as her cage, her stomach had given a queasy lurch, putting her on unsteady feet when faced with her Lord Paramount. In those days she had only just grown used to the rooms above her apothecary, to the quiet that could settle in the air when there was no tavern beneath it, patrons drinking and shouting well into the night. To be plucked from those walls and hung out to be seen like the herbs she cut from the Lord’s forest-- it was too much, even for nerves forged as steely as her own.

But after so many years shunted from one set of quarters to the next-- three alone at King’s Landing, in almost twice as many months-- the fear dulled, until all that remained was the vaguest sense of curiosity, followed by inevitability’s heavy shroud. A girl could not forever anticipate waking up in the same bed when she had no home to return to.

It is, however, nice to be warm.

Shirayuki stretches, the whole of her body suffused with a satisfying ache. For once, it is not the complaint of muscles abused past endurance, but instead the pleasure of ones gently used; the same stiffness roused after a day in the gardens. Save, of course, for the aches in certain places-- places she has never been so aware of, ones that leave a strange heat curled between her thighs.

With a sigh, her eyes blink open; it is still night. Strange; she is not one to stir before the sun. Practically part plant yourself, my lady, Obi would tease her, you never open for anything less than the dawn.

It would be wiser to slip back into slumber, to let this mystery await until she can look at it in the full light of morning. But it is impossible-- her curiosity has been roused. Even now awareness spreads through her body, the hairs on her skin standing and settling as thoughts kindle from their embers. There is silk beneath her, soft and cool against her, and--

And she know this because she is naked, not a stitch of clothing on her.

She rolls from belly to side, stifling a curse as she meets the curtains standing sentinel around her. They are dark, and even shadowed in night as they are, she knows their color-- russet red, the same as the hair on her head. On the bedposts are fish, large trout carved open-mouthed, water spurting and swirling upwards to where the canopy rests. Riverrun, the ancestral home of the Tullys. Her home.

Or at least, so she had thought. I’ll marry her myself, her uncle had said, every word filled with bitterness. Get a boy on her.

Her fingers clench, silk and velvet spilling through her fingers. Family, Duty, Honor. The Tully words; her father had spoken them, that night in Dorne, and she had known as sure as rivers run south that they were hers.

And now she knows why her father had left; why he had taken her mother and ran to where the Harmund’s fingers could not stretch. Fishlords, some called the Tullys, and her uncle earned it by his flopping. Blood might be thicker than water, but it still ran as easy as the Trident in his veins; a trout following the strongest current.

Family may be one of their words, but words are wind. A lesson she should have learned when even dragon turned against dragon, darkening the skies above the Blackwater.

Betrayal stung, but Shirayuki’s heart had long been forged into something stronger than flesh, her mind honed sharper than steel. She may not wield a blade or command armies, but her weapons may be just as deadly, so long as she applies them in their proper place.

Anything can be a weapon, Miss, Obi told her once, dragging a cutpurse by the collar to the Watch. The bruise was still livid on the boy’s face, hardly looking like the apple that had made it. You just have to use the right pressure...and where a man’s vitals are.

Her stomach lays flat beneath her palm, but beneath it, it roils. She wanted to reach out to her uncle, to convince him to her side-- to Zen’s side with logic and reason and perhaps even fondness. She wanted them to talk as equals, but now she sees-- he had never taken her for anything more than a pawn, something to be traded for a better lot. And if she must press what weapons she has to his vitals, she knows just which one she might use.

The mattress shifts beneath her, the night’s silence broken by a soft, muffled groan. A man’s. Memory crests as a wave, tumbling her beneath it-- this is not her chamber at Riverrun but Obi’s. She is warm not from the pan beneath the bed, but from his body beside her. And her nakedness, this ache between her legs is because-- because--

She has already set her plans in motion. This languid satisfaction is from muscles used indeed, and this sting a maidenhead lost.

A soft sigh slips from him, his breath rippling along her back. No, not lost but given freely, to a man who had known it for the gift it was. Not the one she thought would receive it, but nonetheless she does not regret it, not one moment. She had done what needed to be done, and Obi-- well, he had made it pleasurable besides.

Shirayuki shifts, one side to the other, smiling at the thick cocoon of blankets, a man-made mount of velvet and fur. A sliver of bronze peeks through a vent, baring half a face slack with sleep and satisfaction. It’s not his, he says, but that does nothing to stop the fondness that wells in her chest at the sight of it. Nor does it quell the new heat that kindles in her belly.

Obi has ever existed at her side, just at the corner of her vision. A touch away, should she need him; a soft pressure when she needs support. Fond has always been a pale word, a shallow reflection for the depth of her feeling. Simply by knowing he is near, she is safe-- no, she is known, vulnerable and inviolable all at once. That face man not be his, but she knows the way he wears his anger, his joy, his grief, and now--

Now she knows its pleasure too. How his mouth slackens when she touches him. The strangled noise that drags unwilling from his throat when he slides inside her. The furrowed knot of his brow as he draws close to his end, voice straining as he dances at the edge of it.

Wetness coats the tops of her thighs, and oh Maiden and Mother, she could burn alive from the way her cheeks blaze. To think of him like this when he is only providing a service-- it’s shameful. He might never claim his title, the ser he has so greatly earned, but even without a white cloak he is kingsguard still, and this another sacrifice to protect the Iron Throne.

No, not for the throne. Nor for the Targaryen name either. For Zen, who needs the Lord of the Riverlands if he is to ever do more than hold the line. Who needs to bring to the table more than the North if he is to ever convince Dorne to throw their lot in with his.

Shirayuki knows this for what it is, but still, her body reacts. She is no high born lady to think the joining of man and woman a mystery-- if she had not seen animals in the yard, she had too often seen the ones behind the tavern, trying to catch a quick moment before they went back to their own beds. And she knew all too well the ailments that could arise from too many of these trysts taken with little care, or how a lady might bleed before her time if her husband did not take his. But still, even knowing the arithmetic to make two into one, she had thought this might be a more dutiful act, restrained by the weigh of the favor she was asking him-- he had certainly not seemed like a man performing a duty.

Wake me in an hour, he had said, his voice a delicious rumble beneath her hands. I’ll be ready for you then.

She lifts to an elbow, reaching over the man-mound to push aside the curtain. A breath of cool air sighs against her skin, leaving shivers in its wake. By the sky hung in the windows, she had given him more than his hour-- and more than the second she had meant to spare him. If she woke him now, he could press her back against the mattress again, putting his cock where she aches for him still--

And he will, she knows. They must, if this plan is to work. Lies might fool a man, but it would take more than that to trick a maester. Her uncle will not be content to take her at her word, not when it so neatly scuttles his plans, nor when so much glory could be had if he could leverage this child to make himself Hand to the new king. There must be a real, actual child growing in her belly by the time her uncle returns, or all will be lost.

She peels back the layers of his cocoon, enough to sneak a hand through. Soft fingers brush over the cusp of his shoulder, scar ragged beneath them. “Obi.”

He grunts, burrowing deeper into the pillow. It had taken her three years to ever see him sleeping, and even after, he would wake at her slightest sound, at even the threat of her touch. But now--

Now he groans, long legs stretching out, chest arching until his shoulder cups firmly in her palm. And yet, his eyelids hardly flicker.

“Obi,” she tries again, impatience seeping in at she presses closer. His skin is so warm against hers, hard where she is soft. The heat coiled in her belly writhes. “Obi, please, we need to...”

One gold eye unfurls to half-mast, hazy with sleep. Her words are lost, gone like birds on the wind. It had taken all her courage to ask the first time; she cannot bear to dredge up enough for a second.

“Ah, Miss,” he sighs, and, ah, she feels him against her. It. His cock, half-hard, nestled against the forgiving flesh of her thigh. “So insatiable.”

Shirayuki does not pout; no, this pursing of her lips is forbidding, stern. “You did promise.”

He hums, one hand tracing up the curve of her bottom, settling against her back. “I did,” he slurs, sleep thick in his voice, staring up at her through the net of his lashes. “And lucky for you, I’m a man of my word.”

That hand slips up to her shoulder, urging her down, and she gives beneath him. His mouth meets hers on the journey, dragging her into its undertow with a slow, languorous slide. Nothing about this is hurried, like Zen’s kisses, or frantic, like the ones from mere hours ago, but patient, perfect. He hasn’t slept long enough for his breath to be sour, but it’s stale, and she--

Ah, his hand drifts down again, jerking her against him. His cock buries between her thighs, heavy and hard, and she could not care less what he tastes like, so long as he keeps kissing her.

Her own palm slips from shoulder to cheek, nails scraping beneath the bristle of his hair. With a whimper, his hips jerk into hers, leaving them both breathless.

“You’re already wet,” he murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction and wonder. “So wet. And all for me, Miss?”

He should hardly need to ask. He’d pushed her to her back last night, and it’d flowed out of her like a creek swollen in a storm, blossoming over her nightgown. She’d feared he would see it, that he might even smell it as he pressed his mouth to her and know that she had left her own duty long behind, driven now by a needy curiosity. This might all have been her plan, but it was not like her to want, to need. Even now as he rubs himself between her folds, her slit aching for him, empty, she worries that this craving might not ever leave her.

“Obi,” she whines, so unlike herself she might as well be some other girl, the kind that has trysts outside taverns and sees a barn as an opportunity. “I need...”

“Oh,” he laughs darkly against her mouth. “I know what you need.”

Her only warning is the curve of his lips, and then she is weightless, reeling under a force not her own. Like rolling down the hills of Honeyholt, at the mercy of the land beneath her; only it is not the Father’s hands she leaves herself in tonight, but the Stranger’s.

When that breathless moment ceases, she is atop him, pale hands braced upon the bronze of his chest, legs splayed to either side of his narrow hips-- though his shaft no longer sits between them, instead curving along her bottom. Shirayuki shifts, trying to work it beneath her again, to feel the hard ridge of him where she aches, but his hands rest on hers, stilling her where she sits.

Beneath their fingers he is patchwork of scars; unlike this face, they belong to him, the only record of who he was before he came to her, of what he might have been before arrived at the doors of the House of Black and White. Her thumb brushes along the curve of his borrowed cheekbone, heart leaping as he leans into her touch, his smile nestling into her palm.

No, it is not the Stranger she courts tonight, but the Many-Faced God. One in the same, Obi might tell her, a single form of a god that touches every angle of this world, but still--

It is from his jaw whom she has snatched suffering. It is his servant who she has made aid her. Death makes a merciless lord, and she has a habit of standing before his throne, defiant.

Her fingers stiffen where they hook behind his jaw. “I need you,” she says, a whisper so fierce it burns. “As long as you are with me, that is all I will ever need.”

Those shuttered eyes fly open, gold burning bright as a candle in the dim. It’s pale, not coin nor honey nor the intensity of amber, but a spool of golden floss, unwinding. “Miss,” he breathes raggedly, chest stilling beneath her. “I...”

His mouth works, but no sound comes from it. Instead he speaks with his eyes, their wild search of her own conveying more question than words ever could. Her heart pounds with an answer, but it chokes her, refusing to speak itself, refusing to even let her know what it might be, and it is too much, too intense for this moment, this night--

So she kisses him instead. That, it seems, is a language they both speak fluently.

He laughs, joy crashing against her lips. “You say you need me.” He lifts her hips, allowing his head to gently slide down her slit,. “But I think what you need is my cock.”

She wants to protest-- it is not the promise of his size or skill that drew her to his bed in her time of need, and it is surely not what keeps her here, drinking down every drop of his drugging kisses, but--

But he lowers her onto him, shaft nestling between her lips. It’s both what she wants and not enough entirely; more, she needs to tell him, but instead she only whines, leaning into his touch. His fingers flex against her skin, gripping so hard a peach would bruise beneath it, and with a twitch of his hands, he drags her along his length. Her thoughts cease completely-- at least those that are not how his shaft slides along her slit, or the way his cock’s head rubbing at the center of her maiden’s flower, making her skin dissolve in a shower of sparks.

“Obi!” She wrenches herself away from his mouth, trying to gain space, gain her bearings before this heat can consume her. He keeps moving her even still, that steady front and back, watching her with hooded eyes and knowing smile. Her cunt growing slicker with every stroke, anticipating when he might misjudge his angle, and let himself bury within her--

“Obi,” she tries again, shaking herself. She needs to speak, to tell him something--

But instead she looks down, right to where his head plunges between her thighs, flushed and thick and glistening with her own slick. All she can think is how she needs him in her, how she needs him to douse this heat that threatens to consume her whole--

“Obi--” it’s more sobbed than spoken, a fact that might shame her if the whole of her attention wasn’t on keeping herself in a single piece instead of burning into ashes-- “Obi, please--”

“Yes.” His moan throws his head against the pillow, the muscles of his neck straining. “Yes, Miss, I have you.”

He lifts her again, and this time, his cock’s head flicks over where she is empty. She whimpers, an animal wounded, wanting, her hips seeking him out trying to catch that moment of completion. His laugh huffs against the back of her hand, and she nearly scolds him-- how could he be so amused when she could light the glass candle with her skin alone--

And then he is in her, buried in her cunt with no more than the barest stretch. So easy, as if he were made for her.

“All right, Miss?” he asks, little more than a gasp. She manages a moan as his hips twitch beneath her, driving him just a scant inch deeper. Mother, but she wants more, wants all of him. It cannot be possible to be closer than this, but she wants it still, that cessation of space between them.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” His thumbs rub at the flare of her hips, so gentle, before his palms slip. They glide lower, over the soft skin at her joint, cradling her thighs before guiding them forward. Her legs splay, pulling her closer still, sitting more of him inside her, and yet-- she feels more exposed too, vulnerable. It’s an odd angle, one she’s not sure she entirely likes, and she nearly says so until--

Until he surges up into her and paints a field of stars over her eyes, Dondarrion’s banner in full.

Her finger scrabble at his chest, trying to find purchase as he thrusts up. He’s filling her, more than he can before, each stroke touching her so deeply that she’s left gasping, clawing at his skin. She finally clamps her hands around his shoulders, toes curling in the sheets in an attempt to keep her steady. It’s a futile battle; even anchored as she is, moans leap from her, long and low and soft, hips chasing his cock even thought it never once leaves her.

“Obi,” she manages, a gasp rattling from her lungs. “This isn’t--” a moan slips from her, embarrassingly loud-- “this isn’t the best position for--” he leans forward, taking the tip of her breast in his mouth and sucking-- “conception!”

His chest rumbles beneath her palms. “I think,” he sighs, hands sliding down to grab her hips, “that I’ll come just fine like this.”

“I didn’t mean--”

His fingers dig in to her hips, so hard she knows she’ll bruise, but she can’t care, not when he cants her hips and drives her into him, over and over again, his head hitting something in her so right her vision whites at the edge.

“That’s right,” he hums, guiding her along his cock with a savage, almost feral glee. She leans back, letting him hold her weight and his smirk widens. “I’ll spill fine enough inside you, seeing you like this. Plant a seed and let it quicken, and everyone will know just how good you’ve been fucked--”

Her breath catches. This rough talk, it shouldn’t-- she shouldn’t--

She shouldn't like it. She doesn’t like it, she knows for certain; there’d been plenty of men at Highgarden who had made such promises in their cups. Grandfather had always seen them out on their asses, and told them never to darken his door again.

But the way Obi says it, the way he looks at her, pride and desire both-- it’s different. One thumb reaches out to graze her belly, and it draw her gaze down, down to where she can see his shaft pull near all the way out before thrusting again, covered in her own wanting, and Shirayuki-- she cannot last.

The heat between them finally consumes her, hot and cold both, and she is no longer steel, no longer porcelain, but instead putty in his palms from pleasure, slumping over him. His own breath stutters, and with a stifled groan, he spills over, hips twitching beneath hers.

The maesters knew little about childbirth itself; that was a woman’s realm, best left to the midwives they disdained as ignorant fishwives. But on the topic on conception opinions overflowed, an entire shelf in the Citadel dedicated to its methods-- specifically to those that would insure a male heir, even from a woman who had only evinced daughters. Most all of it was hogwash, merely men believing dominate the Mother’s domain as a lord might his lady, but some of it was true, told to her by midwives more experienced than any man in the maesters’ white tower.

Shirayuki knew, in the last bastion of her mind that was not consumed with pleasure, that she should roll off him. That she should get on her back and lift her hips to urge his seed deep inside her, encouraging it to take root. And after that, she should clean herself to prevent any infection from taking hold-- another thing the maesters’ texts found too unimportant to mention. It is what she would tell any woman that would come to her, looking to be taken with a babe, but instead--

Instead she stretches, luxuriating in the warmth of his skin against hers. The maesters and midwives never mentioned this, how close he would feel afterward, their bodies slick with sweat and wanting. They never said how sweet it would feel to have his cock soften inside her, how a simple hand brushed down her spine could quiet even her loudest thoughts.

“Ah,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers teasing at the divot at its base, not daring to curve lower. She wants him too, but she’s too tired to say it, instead just burrowing encouragingly against his chest. “Good morning to you too, Miss.”

“It’s still night.” She traces a scar, a small one right above his breast. it tremors beneath her touch. “Or I suppose it might be the wee hours before dawn.”

He hums, thoughtful. “You should be getting back.”

Shirayuki blinks up at him.

“Don’t look at me like that.” His teeth flash in the dim. “I hate to kick a woman out of bed, but your maids will be up with the sun.”

And all of them would he happy to hum Harmund a tune, should he ask for a song. Especially about his niece’s nighttime dealings. As little as she likes it, she’s lingered long enough.

“Yes,” she sighs, levering herself up. “You’re right, I should...”

She stares down, heart in her throat. Even in the dark she can see it, the pinkish stain smeared across the sheets. The remnants of her maidenhood, dried and set in silk. “Oh...”

Obi rolls craning his neck to match hers. “Ah, well. Do you think they’ll believe me if I say I had my courses?”

Shirayuki spares him a flat look.

“Oh, don’t you be worrying about that, Miss.” He waves her off, using his hips to bounce her leg off him. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to get blood out of silk.”

“But it’s dried.” She lost more than a few good skirts and sheets from that alone. “It’s nearly impossible--”

His hand cups the back of her neck, swinging her gaze around to meet his. “I said I have it handled.”

Her mouth opens, then closes with a snap. It’s hardly be the first time a man like him would have to clean blood from cloth.

“All right.” She pads over to the basin, wincing as the cold water touches her skin. “I’ll only clean myself and then--”

She’ll never know how he can pace a room so fast; one moment he’s at the end of the bed, putting on trousers, and the next he’s standing next to her. Long fingers pluck the cloth from her hand, his mouth curving as her breath catches.

“Let me handle that, Miss,” he murmurs, so close to her they could hold a playing card between them. “It’s my job to take care of you after all.”

The cloth slides down her belly, freezing in its wake, but it hardly bothers her, not when she is but skin wrapped around a living flame. It sinks further still, Obi’s breath fanning across her face as he slips it between her thighs. Her chest hitches when it traces along her slit, so slow, so tantalizing, one of Obi’s long fingers teasing at her entrance.

“Obi,” she whimpers, but it’s the only sound she makes before he covers his mouth with her own. Her fingers curl around his shoulders, trying to keep herself upright, and she slips, just a little, nails digging in--

He gasps. She presses the advantage, slipping her tongue past his lips; all pretense is lost then. The cloth slumps to the floor as his finger sinks knuckle-deep into her cunt, the banked flame in her belly blazing with little more than the slide of his lips and a pump of his fingers. He stirs against her hip; she glances down for a breath, but his cock is still soft, lolling out the gap of his trousers.

To her everlasting shame, she lasts barely more than a few breaths; both surprise and sensitivity working against her. His hips press her hard against the basin, and his finger curves just so, just enough to have her gasping and writhing and riding him to a second fall, Obi grinning the entire time.

“There.” He lifts his finger to his lips, sucking them clean. “Just wanted to make sure it would stick.”

If she’s flushed, at least the dark shrouds it. “I’ll--I’ll see you in the morning.”

She feels him watching as she bends over, gathering up her shift. “With the way I had you, you’ll see me in your dreams first.”

It should annoy her that she knows he’ll be right, but instead-- instead heat flares in her, making her bold.

“Good.” She slides her shifts over her shoulders, and with a single look back, says, “I’ll need you to do it tomorrow, too.”

His face is worth every shade of her blush.

[realtacuardach]

Anger and Release

Here's my entry for Match 2 of Obiyuki Madness 2021 @snowwhite-andtheknight : Roaring Rampage of Rescue. Many thanks to @jhalya for her beta reading. I hope y'all enjoy!

...

Steam curled out from Shirayuki's mouth as she peered through the frigid dimness of the morning towards the fortress. In her current frame of mind, she could almost imagine that the steam was actually smoke pouring from the maw of an enraged dragon who had had treasure stolen from her.

She didn't like being angry. Anger clouded the mind, affected the senses, and she liked to be in control and sensible at all times, especially in times where a cool head was needed.

On the other hand, though, the anger that was not at all going away was fuelling the adrenaline coursing through her blood, and she would need that adrenaline for what she was about to do. 

So, she let herself be angry.

Angry at the renegade soldiers for capturing her and Obi in the middle of the night without provocation. Angry at how they savagely beat Obi after they'd already mobbed him and restrained him when he tried to rescue her. Angry at how they had been thrown into the back of the wagon like sacks of potatoes, the pain of his fresh, brutal wounds showing through his bruised eyes and stabbing her in the heart. Angry at how he managed to undo only his hands before removing her bonds instead of untying himself totally. Angry that, instead of saving himself, he'd given her an apologetic look before pushing her out of the cart and then collapsing himself. 

The apology frustrated her almost more than anything else, because she was certain he was not apologetic for the right reasons. 

"When we get back," she muttered to herself in the lessening gloom, "we're going to have a long talk about not sacrificing yourself for me. Again."

Truthfully, she didn't have much faith that this talk would stick any better than any of their previous similar ones, but that wouldn't prevent her from trying. 

You idiot, she choked back a sob, don't you know how much it hurts when you do this?

She forced the tears away. There would be time for tears later, when he was home and safe and so bound up by her healing that he would have to stop and listen to her.

And he'll smile up at me and shrug and say he couldn't make any promises...

She shook her head. Focus.

Squinting, Shirayuki looked around the fortress and saw only one sentinel standing guard at the entrance. That seemed a little lackluster as far as security went, but she wasn't complaining. 

A murmur like Obi's echoed through her brain. Miss, you can never be too careful. The ground's not the only place the enemy can be.

As though on cue, she heard a slight crackling of tinder above her as though a squirrel was making its way through the limbs. She craned her head upwards to see a man in the tree besides the one where she was hiding, well camouflaged against the gnarled bark.

That wouldn't do.

Looking around surreptitiously, Shirayuki saw a jagged stone on the ground. She reached out and took it, its roughness grounding her and steeling her resolve. After a quick glance towards the sentinel at the door, Shirayuki crept a few trees away from her hiding place and looked up towards her target.

Practice with both Kiki and Obi had served her well; the rock slammed into the back of the tree dwelling soldier's knee as she'd planned, forcing his knee to bend and for him to lose his balance. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud amidst all the dead leaves.

Even in her haze of adrenaline, she could see his chest rise and fall, and felt a traitorous sense of relief.

The sentinel ran over to check his fallen comrade, his face showing first alarm, then irritation. He nudged the fallen man none too gently in the ribs and cursed. Shirayuki reached into her satchel, the glass jar solid in her hand.

"Fool," the guard grumbled, "falling asleep in a -"

The glass jar cracked across the back of his head, the potent herbs smearing across his skin and hair ensuring that the blow would knock him out. There were a few beads of blood where the glass scratched him, but she recognized him as one of Obi's attackers and couldn't bring herself to care much. 

She stalked across the grass quietly and quickly, her ears attuned for any small sound, but heard and saw no one as she made her way to the door. Despite herself, her hand trembled a moment as she grabbed the door handle but she swallowed it down. She couldn't hesitate.

Obi needed her.

…

Years of having to deaden old soldier's wounds and to temporarily incapacitate stubborn, hardy patients who would not listen to her and stay in bed were serving her well. It meant that she knew just the right herbs to use, even if she had to grab them on the fly from the surrounding forest and unattended cupboards. It also meant she knew just where to dig and press her fingers to weaken muscles and render others unconscious. 

She moved through the halls with almost clinical efficiency. Guard in west wing, herbs. Guard in east wing, pinch at the neck. Guard on the staircase, jar of herbs to the back of the head. 

For once, she was grateful for her small size, it allowed her to creep and duck around the shadows. Because she had to take everyone out on the way to Obi, otherwise she knew their chances of escape were slim. 

Especially with Obi as injured as he is. 

Shirayuki gritted her teeth, forcing her feelings to fuel her rage. This was not the time to falter.

It was best to be quiet, the element of surprise was key. But she noted with alarm that her attacks were getting more reckless the deeper she went into the fortress, whether that was due to her desperation and anger, she didn't know.

She didn't care.

As she crept past the guard who had been watching the dungeon door, she heard voices and scowled. 

A dull slap of something against flesh. "Where is the girl?"

A hollow chuckle. "What girl?"

Wind whistled as something was swung through the air, ending with a muffled thud and a deep groan. "You know what girl we're talking about!"

"Can't say I do," Obi groaned in response.

There was a sound that sounded sickeningly like a blade being drawn from a scabbard. "I won't ask again."

"Good, because I won't answer again." Obi clicked his tongue, the sound strangely garbled. "Not good at taking no for an answer, no wonder you can't get a girl-"

Don't provoke them, Obi!

Usually, if Obi was still being snarky and insolent, things were okay; it was only when he reverted to death glares that things were serious. However, that was when others, especially Shirayuku and Ryuu, were at stake. He was annoyingly flippant when it came to his well-being, so Shirayuki had no way of telling how bad it was without seeing him. She pushed up on her toes and stared through the bars.

Her blood ran cold, then hot, then boiling.

Her knight was shackled to the wall, looking even more bruised and battered then she had seen him before. Blood ran in a stream from the corner of his mouth, his limbs were contorted where they were shackled with blood plastering the material to his skin, and his glare was lessening to a slit of golden, blood-shot eyes as his face swelled from all the bruising. 

And there was a blade held to his neck.

Rage filled Shirayuki like a beaker overflowing with viscous, corrosive liquid and she felt herself grabbing a rusty bar that had fallen in days past from the door. There were two people with him, the element of surprise would be almost useless here.

And it was overrated anyway.

She only made one sound before she dropped her cover entirely, just enough to surprise the brute holding the blade to Obi's neck and have him facing her.

With that, she cast aside all secrecy, let out an unholy shriek that she hadn't known herself capable of, and pounced. 

…

"That," Obi huffed besides her as they struggled into the clearing, him leaning heavily on her shoulder, "was something, Miss."

Shirayuki gave something like a nod in response, but kept going. Her adrenaline was just about running out, and she could feel all the aches in her body starting to emerge. Just a little further. 

"Miss?"

Along with the aches, the reality of what she had just done was beginning to sink into her thoughts as well. All those guards slumped unconscious, their wheezing both reassuring and terrifying. The bruises and scabs forming on the backs of heads and necks. The pained groans of Obi's tormentors as they faded into delirium, clutching most likely broken legs or arms. It looked terrible and daunting in her mind. 

And she couldn't really bring herself to regret it. 

"Miss, are you okay?"

It wasn't until she felt his fingers brush the dampness of her cheek that she realized she'd been crying. "I'll be fine."

"Miss."

He had no right to sound admonishing right now. None at all.

"Miss." He sounded gentler, although the admonishing tone still lingered in the back of his voice. "You're bleeding."

"Sure it's mine and not yours?" She shot back, and immediately regretted it at his wince. 

"Miss, we're far enough. You need to rest a minute."

Acquiescing, Shirayuki maneuvered them to a small cave. She lay him down and sat beside him, hugging her knees to her chest, the fear and fatigue and anger and anxiety all curdling at once in her gut. She was doing a poor job of hiding it, given that Obi reached up to brush his fingers against her face again. "Miss, please…"

Something about the touch and tone undid her, and she began weeping. "Don't," she choked, "don't ever do that again."

Obi frowned. "You know I can't promise that."

"Why?" She demanded, "Why can't you? Don't you realize how much you matter? Don't you realize how much it would kill me if something happened to you?"

He swallowed hard. "Not as much as you-"

Shirayuki glared down at him. "Don't. Just, don't."

Obi sighed and forced himself into a seated position. With a slight noise of distaste at his bloodied clothes, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She hugged him back fiercely and cried into his shoulder. He rubbed her back soothingly. "Thank you, Miss. I'm so sorry."

"Not as half as you'll be if you scare me like that again," she sniffled.

"Yes, Miss," she could feel his smile in the breath against her neck, warm and close and reassuringly alive. 

She would need to talk with him more about this later, they were both well aware. But for now, they were both alive and safe.

And for now, that would have to be enough.

[whimsicalbumblebee]

The 14th Sentinel

A 13 sentinels AU

Spoilers Ahead so this will be under the cut!

Tamao Kurabe being the pilot of the 14th Sentinel in the final battle. (not to confuse with sentinel no. 14 which is Ryokos)

Why? Because I think she deserves more plot.

She survives what happened to her in Sector 5 and when Miura and Natsuno return there, they find her injured but alive.

Well enough that they are able to take her back to sector 4.

She gets to live with Natsuno here. Which in turn means, she is the first to know of her disappearance when Natsuno is stranded in sector 3.

Getting ahead of myself though.

When she returns, and lives with Natsuno, there's clearly a culture shock.

"Please tell me I don't have to dress like you do, Minami-san"

"No- no! This is just my track outfit, we can find you a longer skirt if you're more comfortable with it."

"That would be...acceptable."

Her POV would be different than Miura's, she already knows that she is in the future from the get go. So she spends most of her time exploring. Kinda like a reverse of Tomi's culture shock.

However her being in sector 4 would change things slightly.

Mostly Yuki's story.

Yuki who spends her entire plot with Erica Aiba, aka JuroBot, would find out that Aiba isn't Aiba not through Nenji but through Tamao Kurabe.

And JuroBot, when he learns that Tamao is in this time, probably would take some measures to remove Tamao from interfering.

You know, it just occurred to me, what was JuroBot trying to do, following Yuki all the time? Like I know he was trying to alter her nanomachines, but if it was anything like what Megumi did, wouldn't that just be 'one and done'? Why persist after her? Anyways I'm getting side tracked here.

You can't tell me Tamao won't be searching for Natsuno as well here. But in her perspective, we might get to see Miura more doing the same. There was a throwaway line in Yuki's story about a middle schooler looking for Natsuno too. except that's actually Miura. We never get to see him do the actual searching or his worry for her. Which might be more clear in Tamao's story since they would probably be looking together.

And I can imagine, Yuki running into Tamao when JuroBot isn't around.

"Aiba! I thought I told you not to follow me!" "Aiba? Are... you talking about me?" "Of course I am, who else would I be talking to?" Yuki would clearly annoyed here.

"I think you're mistaking me for someone else."I'm not Aiba...I'm Tamao Kurabe.

"Stop screwing with me, you were just following me like a puppy just minutes ago!"

"I really don't know what you mean, I don't know who you are."

Yuki here would probably realize that this is a different person all together, this Aiba-looking-girl's demeanor is completely different too.

I can imagine Tamao being kinda intimidated by Yuki here and excuses herself.

Tamao later runs into JuroBot and of course kinda freaks out seeing her doppelganger.

"I didn't expect you'd be here. This may be a problem."

"Wh-who are you?"

"None of your concern. I can't have you interfering with my plan for now, sorry but I need to put you to sleep for a bit." I wonder who should find Tamao here, she'd be unconscious in the old school building, probably tucked in a cupboard/ storage area there.

My three guesses are Ei, Miura, or Yuki.

If it's Ei, I assume either Miura or Yuki come around shortly. Ei knows who Tamao Kurabe is so I do think he'd be willing to try and help her out a bit. Miura or Yuki, when they come around, probably think it was Ei who attacked her, well maybe not Yuki since if this is after they recover BJ, they'd be working together now.

If its Miura who finds her, it would be during his search for Natsuno, I assume he'd also notice Tamao going missing too, since as stated before, they would be working together.

Ah also, during the encounter with JuroBot, he'd have altered her nanomachines in preparation for the game~

I wonder if she'll be able to operate sentinel 18. After all, the other formerly Ai operated sentinels, 16, 17, 19, respectively, all gained human pilots: Tomi, Natsuno, Miura.

So 18 should be the same.

As for her activation switch, I want to say its the palm of her right hand, swiped up from the wrist to her fingers.

It would be a 3rd Gen Sentinel too in this situation.

Some other minor little details to include here:

-She's incredibly affectionate towards BJ, treating him kinda like a cat in a sense.

"Oh you're so cute little one!"

"Oh you can talk? Well hello there!"

-She is absolutely in awe and simultaneously intimidated by the advancement in cooking equipment.

-Washing machines intimidate her.

-Yes she will jump when things beep.

-Someone, namely Natsuno, has to restrain her from attacking Gouto when she next runs into him. She's angy at him for what he did.

-She ends up really liking the skirt she gets! (she wears pants underneath it though just cuz it makes her feel more comfortable)

-When first becoming Natsuno's roommate, she takes all her clothes and starts mending all the holes she finds.

"You-you don't have to do that."

"Nonsense, you can't wear ripped clothes Minami-san."

-When she finds out she's a grandmother, she's ultimately...shocked and confused.

"What do you mean that boy is my grandson?"

-Because no one knows what happened to TamaoAI until after exterminator event and namely after Yuki goes to the Sentinel Hangar, I assume Tamao can walk around the school normally without anyone questioning her being there.

She does try to avoid the teachers since she knows shes not officially a student there.

-She has run into Megumi at school though and jumps when she's acknowledged to be "Tamao-san" by her once in passing.

-She runs into Takatoshi in the old school building once, this is after he meets Miura so he knows what happened to Sector 5.

"Takatoshi-san is that really you? You look just like you did back in middle school! Rowdy and unkempt!"

"Tamao-san please stop teasing me."

"And why would I do that?"

[darkangel0410]

Can I just ask for all the McEichel you haveeeee. I can't possibly choose one😭😭

Omg anon, you're too sweet ❤❤ Have a couple different snippets as a thank you:

Sentinel au:

Before he even realizes that he's moving, Connor's in front of his guide, their shoes almost touching and Connor wants to reach out, touch him with an intensity that would have surprised him before now.

His guide smiles indulgently and holds out his hands palms out, somehow letting Connor know it's ok to touch him.

He brushes his fingertips over the skin, committing the feel to his memory, slots it carefully next to his guide's heartbeat in the part of his brain that's all sentinel. "You play hockey, too," Connor says with delight, lightly touching the familiar calluses on his guide's palms and fingers.

"I do. My name's Jack," his guide - Jack - adds and turns his hands so he can encircle Connor's wrists with his fingers; it feels nice to Connor, easy and relaxed in a way that's hard for him to explain, even to himself. "I, uh, wasn't expecting to meet you here, sentinel."

The last word is pointed, a light poke at Connor’s lack of manners, but the air between them is still calm and he can almost feel Jack's good humor coming off of him in waves.

"Connor. My name's Connor," he tells him after a few seconds, still memorizing everything about Jack that he can. "Jack," he repeats to himself, and it makes something click in his brain. "You're Jack Eichel," he realizes with undisguised glee. "You're the best player on the US team this year. Maybe ever since Patrick Kane."

Jack flushes with pleasure at Connor’s words, a bright red that spreads down past the collar of his t-shirt.

Connor idly wonders if it goes all the way down to his waist.

*

In Death au:

"Did he knock over the packie then?" Jack asks as he walks into Connor's office and shrugs off his jacket to toss over the seat next to the one Connor was sitting in. 

"Say what now?" Connor looks up from his screen, confusion clear on his face. 

"The guy you're looking for," Jack nods towards the board set up in the middle of the room and rolls up his sleeves before he goes over to the AC to get some coffee. "Is he the same one that robbed the packie - ah, liquor store," he clarifies with a smile when Connor stares blankly at him. "This morning when you were in Queens investigating the D'Angelo murder."

"Why didn't you just say that? Packie," Connor mutters to himself with a disgusted shake of his head, before he goes on, "Yeah, he was threatening the cashier with a homemade boomer when we went in there to talk to D'Angelo's old dealer.

"Just bad luck for him," Connor adds with some humor and accepts the mug of fresh coffee Jack hands him. "Took him a couple seconds to make us as cops and we were able to get him subdued and restrained without any problems. Funky junkies," he says with a philosophical shrug, knowing you can't save everyone and his mind already back on the D'Angelo murder. "Eyes are the first thing to go."

*

Pretend boyfriends:

The flight from Boston to Toronto is only a few hours, but Jack still manages to fall asleep for an hour or so and he's a little groggy when he gets through customs and goes to the lounge to meet Connor.

It doesn't take him long to spot Connor, recognizable even with the Otters hat pulled low over his forehead; he's talking to two little kids, nodding seriously as they talk excitedly and gesture wildly with their hands.

Jack stops for a few seconds, still half-asleep, and smiles to himself at how awkward Connor is being the focus of stranger's attention when he's not on the ice; he's never gotten used to the way people want to talk to him, shake his hand or just be near him sometimes. 

It's almost annoying how endearing Jack finds it.

He's focusing on the kids so much that he doesn't notice Jack until Jack walks over next to them and flicks the brim of Connor’s hat. "What's this, McDavid? We need to get you some Terriers gear so I'm not ashamed to be seen in public with you."

Connor startles, then grins at Jack, bright and happy. "Hey, I didn't realize you were here already."

*

Thank you again, anon!! (WIP game)

[knives-out20]

Magnetic Push - Erik Lehnsherr x Male!OC - Part 1

Fandom: X-Men: Days Of Future Past (2014)

Pairing: Karmel Rosenstein (OC) x Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for Days Of Future Past, Magnetic Pull spoilers,

Notes: Hi! Welcome to the sequel of Magnetic Pull, titled ‘Magnetic Push’, it is advised you DO NOT READ this if you have NOT finished Magnetic Pull. But that is an obvious given. Grimm, as you all may remember, is an OC of mine. Enjoy!

Logan and Hank sat in front of Charles' desk in his office.

Charles bent over sluggishly, looking at Logan under a big desk lamp. "So, you're saying...that they took Raven's power, and, what? They weaponized it?"

"Yep." Logan nodded.

"She is unique" Hank commented.

"Yea, she is, Hank" Charles agreed, standing up properly.

"In the beginning, Sentinels were just targeting mutants. Then they began to identify the genetics in non-mutants, who would eventually have mutant children, and grandchildren" Logan explained, watching Charles walk over to sit on a big couch at the side of the room. "Many of the humans tried to help us, but it was a slaughter. Leaving only the worst of humanity in charge. I've been in a lot of wars...I've never seen anything like this. And it all starts with her."

"Now, let's just say that, for the sake of...the sake, that I- I choose to believe you, that I choose to help you, Raven won't listen to me" Charles sighed, smiling sadly. "Her soul belongs to someone else, now. Hers isn't the only one."

"I know" Logan admitted, standing up. "That's why we're gonna need Magneto, too. And Climber."

Hank looked up, as if he hadn't heard those names in ages. "Erik? A-And Karmel? You do know where they are?"

"Yea."

Charles grinned in disbelief, laughing to himself. "Could you give me that one more time, please?" He rhetorically asked.

"You heard me" Logan replied, promptly standing his ground.

Charles continued to laugh as he stood up. "He's where he belongs. Him and Karmel both" he told, facial expression rapidly changing to one of disdain as he passed by Logan.

"Well, that's it? You're just gonna walk out?"

"Ooh, top marks" Charles raised his eyebrows, sassing Logan. "Like I said, you are perceptive" he pointed at Logan, walking backwards towards the staircase.

"The Professor I know would never turn his back on someone who lost their path" Hank noted, watching Charles walk away. "Especially someone he loved."

Charles stopped at the foot of the stairs. He took a step back, then one more before speaking again. "You know...I think I do remember you now" Charles said, walking back over to Logan. "Yea. Tall, angry fellow with the contentious hair. We came to you a long time ago, Erik, Karmel, and I, seeking your help. And I'm gonna say to you, what you said to us then..." he leaned in, getting right up in Logan's face. "'Go fuck yourself'."

"Listen to me, you little shit" Logan growled, grabbing Charles' shirt. "I've come a long way, and I've watched a lot of people die. Good people. Friends. If you're gonna wallow in self-pity and do nothing, then you're gonna watch the same thing, you understand?"

Charles searched Logan's eyes, confused at the audacity this man had.

Logan let go of Charles.

"We all have to die sometime" Charles walked away, for real this time.

"I told you there was no professor here" Hank reminded.

"What the hell happened to him?" Logan asked, turning around.

"He lost everything. Erik, Karmel, Raven, his legs" Hank sighed. "We built the school, the labs, this whole place, then, just after the first semester, the war in Vietnam got worse. Many of the teachers and older students were drafted. It broke him. He retreated into himself, I...I wanted to help, do something, so I designed a serum to treat his spine, derived from the same formula that helps me control my mutation" he shook his head. "I take just enough to keep myself balanced, but...he takes too much. I tried easing him back, as did Grimm, but he just couldn't bear the pain. The voices. Grimm tried countless times to- to help Charles, to slow him down to the dosage I take, but like I said, Charles, he...couldn't be helped."

"Grimm, uh...blue-haired guy, talks to and controls the dead?" Logan arched a brow.

"Yea. Grimm didn't want to waste away trying to help someone who couldn't be helped, so, he broke it off with Charles, and thus, Charles lost him. The treatment gives Charles his legs, but it's not enough. He's...He's just lost too much" Hank concluded.

Charles lay on his bed, eyes shining on the brink of tears. He looked over at his bedside table, specifically at a framed photo of Raven. Charles' chest went up and down with his restrained breathing, thinking back to the first time Raven and him met, as kids. His vision glided over the photo of Raven, to a tie. Not any tie of his own, or Hank's, but...an old friend's tie. 

Karmel's tie. He had forgotten it at the X-Mansion back when he resided in it, and Charles kept it with the underlying hope of seeing Karmel again and returning it to him.

Charles knew how much Karmel's ties meant to him, and why they meant to much to him; all of Karmel's ties belonged to his father. He groaned softy, thinking back to when he first met Karmel.

"Uh, Karmel" Karmel repeated, outstretching his hand, "Karmel Rosenstein."

"Charles Xavier. Friend of Moira's?"

Karmel shrugged.

"Acquaintances, actually? Mutual friend" Charles corrected.

Karmel furrowed his eyebrows. "Yea...How did you- never mind- you?"

"Very recently acquainted. She brought me here to meet you."

Karmel's eyes went wide. "Uh- w-why? Why'd you need to meet me? What's happening? Moira, I- I don't like boys, but it's fine if you do Charles, but I-"

Moira raised a hand, putting back the book she was holding and cutting Karmel short. "I didn't bring Charles here to set him up with you, I know you like girls. I brought him here because I feel that you both have something in common."

"An obvious interest in girls?" Karmel insisted, hands on his hips.

Charles held back a chuckle. He knew Karmel had been locked up in Erik's heart for the past ten years or so- and vice versa. Charles thought that surely, today, Karmel was more embracing of his sexuality than he had been back then, when he used to live in fear of it.

"Karmel, Karmel-" Charles called, putting a hand on Karmel's shoulder. "It's okay."

Karmel slowly dropped his hands, raising an eyebrow. His vine art of Erik grew purple flowers, which bloomed quickly. Karmel's breath hitched at that.

"It's okay now, remember? I know, you know, we both know here. And I'm a hundred percent okay with what I know. As of our quick trip to Russia, so are you. It's okay, you're safe here. You can be who you truly are."

Karmel took slow, deep breaths, nodding. "Yea, I- I just...I guess I'm gonna forget sometimes, that it's okay. But it's hard to forget that on a scale of one to ten, he's a certified twenty. I'm...I love Erik, man."

"Which is okay" Charles cracked a comforting smile. "I'll be around to remind you. It's a slow process."

Charles could still vividly remember the way Karmel's vines looped around the wall of the mansion to form Erik's face, the pure detail of it all- Karmel had Erik's entire being memorized. He moaned in annoyance, getting out of bed and passing right by the tie and framed photo.

Back downstairs, Hank was organizing the study while Logan tried thinking of what to do next.

"I'll help you get her" Charles stood right outside the study. "Not for any of your future shite, but for her."

"Fair enough" Logan quickly replied.

"But I'll tell you this, you don't know Erik, and you definitely don’t know Karmel. No one knows them like they know each other. Karmel follows in Erik’s footsteps, his pain and anger pushing him to go faster and faster. Erik, that man is a monster, a murderer. You think you can convince Raven to change? To come home? That's splendid. But what makes you think you can change him?" Charles scowled.

"Because you and Erik sent me back here, together."

Charles stared deep into Logan's eyes, determined. "And- And what about Karmel, huh?"

"Listen, Professor. What Karmel does or doesn't do in the future isn't important. What's important is that we can change Erik, and that means him, too. Y'just gotta believe me."

***

"The room they're holding Erik and Karmel in was built during the Second World War, when there was a shortage of steel. So the foundation is pure concrete and sand. No metal. The walls are too thick for Karmel to grow vines out of, and the glass ceiling, he isn't strong enough to break his vines through" Hank described.

"They're being held a hundred floors beneath the most heavily-guarded building on the planet" Charles added, the three men looking over an aerial map of the Pentagon.

"Why are they in there?" Logan inquired.

Charles looked up at Hank, then over at Logan. "What, Erik forgot to mention?" He snickered.

"Uh, JFK" Hank timidly answered.

"...They killed-" Charles cut Logan off.

"What else explains a bullet miraculously curving through the air? At the perfect level from around some trees? Erik's always had a way with guns, and Karmel's always had a way, for the way Erik has a way with guns" Charles chuckled.

"Or just, Karmel's always had a way with Erik" Hank shortened what Charles said, down to its bare minimum.

"Are you sure you want to carry on with this?"

"This is your plan, not mine" Logan reminded.

"We don't have any resources to get us in" Hank complained, Charles chiming in by chirping "or out. It's just me and Hank."

"I knew a guy. Yea, he'd be a young man now. Grew up outside of DC" Logan giggled, shaking his head. "He could get into anywhere, I just don't know how the hell we're gonna find him."

Hank tore his gaze from Logan, to Charles. "Is Cerebro out of the question?" He whispered, Charles silently hanging his head as an answer.

"If only you guys had internet."

Charles looked up at Logan, eyebrows raised in interest.

"What's 'internet'?" Hank furrowed his eyebrows.

Logan sighed, shifting where he stood and turning back down to the map.

"We have a phone book" Hank then suggested.

[galaxies-unknown-a]

How Swindle & Writer Met

Small thingy:tm: until I get the doc going:

Some HCs and whatnot concerning Swindle and Writer and my Swindle’s story (after the episode where he teams up with some humans to make a stasis gun of sorts in TFA)..

Swindle was bought by his Writer at a discount from the police station, with Writer buying him at ~$5k because that was all they had at the time. He was still in permanent stasis when he was bought. Of course, thanks to the way the gun worked, he was perfectly aware of Writer buying him and driving him without his permission.

It started getting odd shortly after Writer bought Swindle. They attempted to nickname him- hilariously going with ‘Spintire’ (not very original, if anyone asked him). They muttered about spending everything they had to get him, before telling him not to worry, and that they’d take good care of him- only to start talking to themself again about talking to a car.

For months, Swindle was stuck- with Writer as his driver, speaking to him every now and again, thanking him every time his locks clicked when they went to work, so on and so forth. It didn’t take long to learn Writer traveled the multiverse, but had decided to stay in this dimension for a time to work on getting a job instead of living off the land in Minecraft (a game that he very quickly learned plenty about). After a while, Writer started making jokes about hugging the car, and venting to him on bad days- and singing on good ones.

He didn’t realize it, but Swindle was falling for the organic that had bought him without knowing. Of course, that was pretty easy, since they were one of his only companions that entire time. They, of course, talked to him even around other passengers (which were not brought along often). He watched them, the way they tricked with words, the dark-humored jokes, the way they actually acknowledged him despite him being in stasis..

All this time, Swindle was working bit by bit- tearing away at the code that left him locked in vehicle mode, unable to speak, to move of his own accord.

And then, the Elite Guard came.

Of course, Writer being Writer, they tried to fend the Elite Guard off- even when they were told that Swindle was.. Well, Swindle. An illegal arms-dealer who worked for the Decepticons. They defended him, even as one of the Elite Guard (a blue one named ‘Sentinel’) whacked them into a wall to get to Swindle. They, being stupid, tried to get back up- growling that the Elite Guard would have to kill them first to get to Swindle, since Swindle was their car and he hadn’t tried to leave/kill them, they were willing to fight for him. They were restrained, but thanks to the Cybertronian tech that was used... They weren’t exactly in what one would consider ‘stable’ condition.

One of the ‘bots was dispatched to take Writer to a human hospital, but all Swindle saw was Writer being taken away- the only person who spoke to him like he was a Cybertronian, not a walking ad, who talked to him and tried to acknowledge him even though he was stuck in vehicle mode... And he snapped. The coding was broken as he was being taken back to the Elite Guard ship. He transformed, and attacked.

Suffice to say, the Elite Guard were dealt with, but not killed (he wanted to sell parts later!), and he went off to go find Writer. He did transform back into vehicle mode so he could better hide in the human realm, and stopped outside of a hospital where he noticed a familiarly-colored car- that immediately took off, driving itself. Swindle let it go, and instead tried to call the hospital as a concerned lover. He was told Writer was stabilizing, but needed to stay for several days.

There’s more after that, buuuut I am tired, it’s super late.

Also, in my backstory for him, he is an ex-Autobot that went rogue after it was revealed that his commander was a piece of sh+t traitor, amongst other things, so he works for any side that will give him money because he’s lost all hope in the morality of any and every being.

The only one who’s given him the slightest bit of hope at present is Writer.

Laughs because I put ‘small thingy’ at the top of this.

[yupuffin]

Sentinel

Given the chance to go back in time, Shion wouldn’t have changed anything. He wasn’t about to make Rat break his promise – neither to him, nor to Rat himself.

The hollow words reverberating with the cavern walls echoed just as clearly in Shion’s ears even now: To leave here, to cast everything away and live in freedom. Their meaning his mind had processed instantly upon perceiving them, but his heart, not until he saw Rat’s back, silhouetted against the afternoon sun: this must be what it means, he recalled thinking to himself, when you say you feel something in your soul.

Rat had vowed to take that freedom with his own hands. Now that No. 6 was destroyed – not the physical city itself that Shion lived in now, as Rat had initially intended, but the yawning shadow it had cast over its captive citizens – that was exactly what Rat had done.

It all happened so fast, and yet so slowly. One moment, Shion was pondering how he’d make it through the summer in that little room. The next, he was stepping back across the ruins of the wall, long after Rat’s figure had disappeared over the horizon.

Shion would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t get lonely sometimes – didn’t miss Rat sometimes. But the Rat he had fallen in love with was the one who asserted that he would live freely once No. 6 was vanquished. Changing Rat’s freedom would change him into a different person entirely, and then what would Shion’s feelings be for? He would rather Rat be happy, fulfilling the dream he held closest to his heart, roaming the vast earth without the fetters that had chained him down for all of his life beforehand, than have Rat right at his side forever and ever, but merely an empty shell of who he had been before, eternally sad, never able to achieve the one thing he dearly wanted. When Shion let his imagination wander too far and pictured Rat like that, it closed up his throat tighter than any day he had spent missing Rat.

Shion had to teach himself to stop saying he was alone. It was tempting, especially when he awoke to a gray sky and the room felt wide open, empty, cold. On occasion he’d even wake up from a nightmare where he was back in the correctional facility, crawling through the cramped ventilation ducts, or maybe he was in West Block, or in the manhunt, or even in No. 6 as it was before, on a day that should have been as peaceful as any other. But regardless, he would sense impending doom – be terrified of something he couldn’t see, couldn’t identify, no matter how clear the sky above might have been. He would run if he could; if not, he’d struggle against whatever was pinning him down, invariably to no avail.

Rat! Rat! Rat! Rat!

He’d scream until his lungs ran out of air. When his voice was completely gone, he’d screw his eyes shut, calling out in his head instead.

Rat! Rat! RAT!

His silent screams were left unanswered.

One time he shouted so loud in the dream that he snapped himself awake. Another time he drifted back to the waking world more pleasantly, only to find his face damp – he’d been crying in his sleep.

He never imagined he’d miss getting kicked three times while trying to sleep. Probably no one would imagine that.

But even after nights like these, all it took to calm his heart was to close his eyes softly and think of Rat. Remember Rat. The way his eyes gleamed silver when he recited Shakespeare or Wilde, or even just his voice, brushing so gently so close to Shion’s ears that it might as well have been Rat’s nimble hand itself caressing his face (albeit sometimes condescendingly) – and oh, his singing. Shion understood now what it really meant, really felt like, to say his heart was singing. Sometimes he would simply envision Rat singing and later find himself on the other side of the reverie, frozen in place for several minutes at a time, whatever task he had been working on entirely neglected. When his dreams were at their worst, Shion would often worry that he might someday forget the sound of Rat’s singing before his return; at times like these, he would more fervently etch and burn every minute detail of Rat’s amazing voice – the waver of its pitch, the way he pushed his breath out at the start of a soft syllable, even the way his throat resonated when he sang an mm – deeper and deeper into his brain until he lulled himself back to sleep. (Sometimes when thinking of these things Shion even found it hard to restrain himself from trying to hum, but he knew he had absolutely no musical talent, and were Rat here now, oh, would he let him know.)

The Rat in the real world was nothing like the absent specter of Shion’s nightmares. The Rat in the real world was wandering the endless landscape somewhere, singing, his voice echoing far and wide like a great wind through the mountains. That was the Rat Shion knew.

Rat and Shion shared a promise. As much the core of Rat’s being centered on living freely, Shion’s center was in his home city – a little different from the way he knew it as a child, but the same city nonetheless. While it wasn’t as though Shion didn’t enjoy the time he had spent with Rat in West Block, and as bitingly sarcastic as Rat could be about it sometimes (it would be a lie, as well, to say that Shion didn’t enjoy that once in a while), that kind of life simply wasn’t for him. Indeed, he found great satisfaction in finally returning home. He was perfectly content to stay here indefinitely, rooted in all that was familiar (and some things that weren’t, but that was the exciting part).  

On nights he couldn’t sleep he’d stare out the window. On clear days and those with pouring rain, he’d look up at the sky. If Rat looked up now, too, he’d see the same sky. From a different spot, yes, but at some point in the endless sky, their eyes could meet. How vast the distance between them must be, and yet, if they could really see the same point in the same sky, were they all that far apart?

If Shion left his window cracked, a breeze would whisper in his ears, just like Rat’s voice. Shion’s heart would thump when he thought for an instant it might be Rat telling him about all of the wonderful places he had been, but it was only the wind.

Even in moments like these, Shion couldn’t honestly say he was unhappy. He would hurt, but he would smile, too. If it meant Rat was happy, that was all he needed. If it meant Rat would be at his side again, that was all he needed.

He’d look up at the sky, just as always. He’d envision Rat traveling, singing. Rat, too, was living and feeling in this moment. He’d smile so hard he’d almost start crying. He would call out in his heart to his image of Rat, but not in fear, as in his dreams – no, his cry was one encouragement and of reassurance. That Rat would live in freedom would never change. It couldn’t. And because that would never change, nor would Shion’s feelings. That was the sense he wanted to carry through in his voice, though it was nowhere near as beautiful as Rat’s. It didn’t need to be as long as the words rang clear, together with the song Rat sang whenever he thought of Shion, too.

“Go wherever; I will always be there.”

[byleth-sensei]

Felix has gotten Dmitri a pig plush toy for his birthday for the last 7 years without fail and Dmitri complains every time but secretly....he cherishes them.

@pikabelle Cute idea, I love it!  You inspired meto write a quick Felix/Dimitri drabble. 

He didn’t know what he expected to find when he came to investigate with every intention of dragginghis leader down by forceafter Dimitrihadn’t shown up to the training yard for their usual weekend morning sparring session–Dimitri was never late to anything – but it certainly wasn’t this.

The blond lay curled up on his side, breaths soft and even in slumber.  And…

Felix inhaled sharply and slowly inched closer, careful not to make anynoise.

There they were, every single one of them. He’d always assumedDimitri tossed them away year after year. Yet every birthday, without fail, he continuedthe strange tradition by buying him yet another one.

The stuffed pig toys werepropped up on the mattress like small, portly sentinels standing guard over theprince’s repose. He kept them all. The idiot even brought them all the way to Garreg Mach.

And there, cradled to the blond’s chest as though it were the most precious andvaluable treasure in the world– the very first pig plush he had evergiven him, Just as it had been all those years ago… albeit slightly moretattered.

Felix’s heart gave a great lurch, unbidden warmth filling his chest.

 As nostalgic memories came rushingthrough his mind, a smile unconsciously tugged at the brunette’s lips, How he’d begged and pestered endlessly as a child to before hisattendant agreed to take him to Fraldarius’ marketplace to pick out his owngift for the boar when his father announced they would be heading to thekingdom capital to attend a celebration being held in honor of his birthday.

The way the young prince’s nose had crinkled in disgust at the reminder ofthe unwanted nickname while Felix had sniggered, oblivious to the faint horroron his parent’s faces when they saw their son’s chosen gift. The feeling ofsmug satisfaction he’d felt when the other boy accepted it anyway with a polite“thank you”.

The brunette stopped at the side of the bed, staring down at an expression morepeaceful than Felix had seen from him in a long time. Not that of the revered princeof the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, not the fierce and reliable leader of the BlueLions;  just an exhausted young man with an impossibly heavy burden on hisshoulders allowing himself to be vulnerableand defenseless at least while he slept, clinging to a reminder of happier times –of carefreedays with Felix – as though it were a lifeline keeping him above the waves in aturbulent storm.

Felix should have shoved him awake right then. Should have teased himrelentlessly for a rare display of weakness, for taking comfort in the past. Remindedhim that if he had time to look to such things for reassurance, he should actto change the future.

Instead, he found himself reaching forward, allowing his fingertipsto ever so gently brush across his leader’s cheek as he tucked the stray goldenlock that had fallen across his brow into its usual place behind his ear. He kepthis palm there, cradling the side of his face.

The roiling tempest he always fought so hard to keep bound and restrainedthreatened now to burst out at the seams. At that moment he wanted nothing morethan to pull into his arms and comfort a man who was nigh unbeatable on the battlefield,who always stared into the face of death with fearless and unflinching blueeyes.

…

He jerked his hand back like he’d been burned. He had to get out. Now.

He stormed down the dorm hallway with his pulse racing and head bowed, murmuringan apology when he almost bowling over poor Annette as she emerged from herroom. She shouted something after him. He couldn’t hear what it was over the thud of his ownheartbeat pounding in his ears.

When Dimitri came rushing breathlessly onto the training field an hour laterand apologized for missing training that morning, Felix gave him asharp-tongued taunt in response, and they were back in usual form, hurlingfriendly jibes as they began to spar.

But to his chagrin, the brunette found himself having difficulty looking his leader in theeye, the memory of the other’s soft, happy expression as he clutched a symbol of hischildhood friend – of Felix himself– refusing to leave his mind.