#i need all of his backstory right now like hello sir what is your deal what did you go through

[n0anix]

just realised that all ttrpg podcasts I'm listening to rn have a paladin that's struggling with figuring out who he really is

either because their path in life has changed, they realised they've been lied to their whole life or they just have amnesia and literally don't know who they really are/were

[howlingday]

tragic backstory (tm) au) having slayed a dragon and saved his friends jaune's kinda feeling himself. well we can't have that now can we?

as per the rules of d&D you let your characters kill something big to make them feel great and have them fight a bunch of small things to humble them. like goblins!

the goblins in question are toddlers, human toddlers I mean. and jaune's mission is to baby sit them

Another War

Jaune: Come on. Come on. ...Da- I mean, darn it.

Nora: Nice save, Jaune!

Pyrrha: Still nothing from your sister?

Jaune: No. I've tried calling her, but I get sent straight to voicemail. I tried calling Mom, but that only gets Mom a locked door in her face. It's not good for her to be shelled up like this.

Ren: It's understandable, though. She likely feels responsible for what happened with Adam.

Jaune: She shouldn't, though! I never blamed her, and I never will. What happened that night was a complete accident.

Nora: Except when you totally kicked that guy's butt!

Pyrrha: As expected of our future king.

Ren: A decisive victory for all to see.

Mercury: (Jamming on his headphones)

Jaune: Ugh... I wish that last part wasn't true.

Pyrrha: Oh! The bullhead is here.

Nora: Woohoo! Springtime, here we come!

Ren: You packed your motion sickness pills, right?

Jaune: ...

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

Cinder: And how exactly is visiting a daycare supposed to improve his training?

Ozpin: First, it is a beginner school, not a daycare. Second, it will help him maintain self-control. His training has improved his strength, reflexes, and endurance just fine, but all of that is wasted if he's expended all his energy on the first move.

Cinder: And dealing with snot-nosed brats are supposed to help with that?

Ozpin: Have you ever interacted with children that much younger than you?

Cinder: No, because I don't want to be anywhere near them.

Ozpin: And why is that?

Cinder: Because I don't want to.

Ozpin: You're afraid, aren't you?

Cinder: Listen here, you-

Ozpin: It's only natural. For one reason or another or yet a third reason, children can terrify us. Be it their boundless energy, their piercing cries, or even their fragility itself, controlling your strength when near them can be a most daunting task.

Cinder: ...

Cinder: Hey. Do you really think he can beat her?

Ozpin: As he is now, no. In time...

Cinder: ...Yes?

Ozpin: I hope so.

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

???: HAHAHA! Team JNPR!

Jaune: Hello, sir! (Extends hand) My name is- HURGH!

???: (Crushing Jaune) Oh, there's no need to introduce yourself, Mr. Arc! Ever since your debut, the children have been talking about you non-stop.

Jaune: Oh... Really...

???: Of course! You're a hero! Oh, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm Johann Trüllen, the headmaster of Springtime primary school.

Jaune: Er, nice to meet you. This is my team. Nora Valkyrie.

Nora: Hi~!

Jaune: Pyrrha Nikos.

Pyrrha: Hello!

Jaune: Lie Ren.

Ren: Hello.

Jaune: And Mercury Black.

Mercury: (Still on his headphones)

Jaune: Mercury?

Nora: (Grabs headphones) Hey!

Mercury: Hey! Hands off, dammit!

Johann: HEY! WATCH YOUR MOUTH!

JMNPR: ...

Johann: (Ahem!) Excuse me, but we have a strict no swearing policy.

Nora: Heehee! Sucks to be you~!

Johann: That's pushing it.

Nora: Wha?! How?!

Johann: Come along now! The children will be excited meet you all!

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

Emerald: (Lays down card) Boom! I win!

Ruby: Wha- You cheated!

Emerald: Listen, you might be good, but you're not that good I have to cheat.

Weiss: (Takes cards) I don't know why I'm surprised. A thief would be a decent card player.

Emerald: I don't know what to be more offended by; you calling me a thief or decent card player?

Blake: (Reading) I would say the thief remark. You're not a thief anymore.

Emerald: Tell that to Mr. Bunny Love down the hall.

Blake: Bunny Love? Who-

Yang: (Walks in) Guys, you're not gonna believe it, but Cardin is freaking out right now!

Ruby: What do you mean?

Yang: He's outside, and he's being chased by Professor Goodwitch for tearing up Beacon looking for something.

Weiss: What's so important that he's tearing up campus property?

Emerald: (Smirks) Oh, I can think of a few things~.

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

Jaune: And that's why, no matter where you go, or what you do, you should always think before you leap! ...Seriously, you have no idea how important thinking is. Uh, are there any questions? (Flinches from kids clamoring)

Boy: What was it like to ride a horse?

Girl: Do you have a girlfriend?

Boy: What's your favorite color?

Girl: Who's your favorite superhero?

Jaune: (Thinking) I pour my heart out to give these kids the most important life lessons, and they don't care in the slightest... Is this how Mom and Dad felt?.

Nora: (Giggles) I can answer them in order! He hates riding Ichor because he keeps getting stomped on. He doesn't have an official girlfriend... yet. His favorite color is viridian lavender. His absolute favorite hero is The Huntsman. His favorite food is...

Pyrrha: It seems Nora can keep up with them.

Ren: Could you trust anybody else? (Smiles) I've never met anyone has energetic as Nora until today.

Pyrrha: Are you getting ideas, Ren?

Ren: I don't know what you mean.

Mercury: Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, dum-

Johann: (Glares)

Mercury: (Looks away) Dum-tee-dum-dum...

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

Jax: Would you stop humming?

Gillian: Pardon me, brother. I heard it on the radio as we came in.

Jax: Well, keep it to yourself. It's hard to think with your buzzing around me.

Gillian: Forgive me. What is our plan?

Jax: We are to seduce this supposed "King" of Vale and their most powerful student as well.

Gillian: How are we to do that?

Jax: In your regard, you must study him. Learn his true nature. Get in close and become the perfect fit for his missing piece. Meanwhile, I shall look over the recent articles regarding his entourage. Power draws power, as you know.

Gillian: Of course.

Jax: Once we find them, we use our divine right as the King and Queen of Vacuo to make allies of them. They become ensnared in our plan, and become servants to the Crown.

Gillian: And if we are unable to seduce them?

Jax: Well... That's when the fun begins.

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

Kids: (Waving good-bye, Cheering)

Jaune: (Waves back) Haha, yeah! I'll, uh, see you guys another time, maybe! (Chuckles)

Pyrrha: It was very nice of you to visit the school, Jaune.

Nora: Yeah! Those little kids are gonna remember this for the rest of their lives!

Mercury: Or whenever the next new video game comes out. Who knows?

Ren: I'm sure there are plenty of students who will remember this. There are worse memories they could experience.

Jaune: Yeah, I guess you're right. Oh! Hang on, I just got a message from my sister!

Text: We need to talk.

Pyrrha: Is it from Cinnamon?

Jaune: Yeah! I gotta- Hang on, I think I have a signal closer to the cockpit!

Mercury: Better hurry. They'll be back from their smoke-break soon.

Pyrrha: They don't smoke.

Mercury: Or snack break. Potty break. Whatever! Point is when they get back, you're gonna make 'em miffed.

Ren: Miffed?

Mercury: Look, the sooner we're away from that huge, hairy headmaster, the better!

Nora: Huge hairy headmaster! Huge hairy hearmaster! Huge hairy hairmaster!

Jaune: Come on! Come on! Yes! (Scroll dies, Hits panel)

Jaune: (PA) NO! DAMMIT! SHIT SHIT SHIT! FUCKING COME ON, MAN! WHAT THE FU-

Pyrrha: JAUNE!

Nora/Mercury: (Laughing their asses off)

Ren: (Covering his face) Your PA was on.

Jaune: (Looks down at panel, Confirms light, Looks outside, Sees running pilots and absolutely livid headmaster)

Jaune: AH... CRAP-BASKETS.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom episode 4-7 Thoughts: (under a readmore because, these got kinda long!)

-the outfit danny had to buy for dash's party. CLASSIC 2000S i cannot stop laughing. And also showing up to the party and everyone is dressed like the trio is hilarious. and further proof that everyone looks good dressed goth.

-dash has a closet full of cute lil bear plushies?? LOVE that. adorable. also his response to danny trashing his room fighting a ghost was SO valid if somone BROKE MY BED IN HALF ID BE PISSED TOO.

-technus being like 'oh smart, u should be a tutor!' then later being like 'forget tutor, be a teacher!' :) supportive king <3 I also really like his upgraded suit/design. AND SPOCK CAMEO??? HELLO??

-the music in this show is super. its so funky. I looked it up and the guy who does it, guy moon (awesome name) also did music for other cartoons like fairly odd parents, barnyard, chalkzone, billy & mandy, AND some actual movies like FIGHT CLUB??? the whiplash I got from reading that)

-sam being rich explains a lot about her, actually.

-I know the moral of the episode was supposed to be 'dont ditch your friends for popular people/spend a lot of money on clothes that arent You to Fit In'. but tbh. it wouldve been easy for danny to have been like 'well, okay, ill come but only if my friends can!' but I get. that hes 14. so. not a lot to say there.

-BOX GHOST IS BACK!!!!! also, danny sitting up and wearing the dress/wig/makeup. umm thats how I dress everyday LMFAO. unironically me. (hate the jokes that boil down to 'haha funney man in dress' tho. but this is a look)

-jazz being protective of her brother once again being like NOOO YOU GUYS BETTER NOT STAKE OUT HIS (actually haunted) LOCKER!! shes aware of how people perceive him and she wants to help :( which is also probably why she told dash to invite him to that party even tho she had no interest in going!! she wants to help him out :(

-gotta say im with tucker on the whole 'should danny use his powers to get back at bullies' debate. 100% yes. let him teach kids to fight back. making dash throw his food at paulina out of the blue? no. but when hes actually about to pick on someone? yeah! for self defense? YEAH! if dash and his friends just threw food at him, I think rather than. idk doing sneaky shit with frogs he couldve just threw it back and not pulled punches if they tried to fight. I kNOOWWW its a kids show so they are like 'if u fight back ur just as bad!! violence bad!!' but. theyre HIS POWERS. WHO CARES.

-like my only gripe is that dash really isnt LEARNING ANYTHING WHEN DANNY GETS BACK AT HIM IN THE MOST PETTY INDIRECT WAYS. whatever they had to add a bully psa episode I guess. I hate it and I hate the way cartoons usually handle it because these methods simply Do Not Work. 'aND YouRE USinG YOur poWErs FOR EVill???!' this is Not Evil. even when poindexter takes dannys body, theyre only being 'nice' bc hes stealing soda for them!! bitches deserve what they get (nothing too brutal bc theyre high schoolers but damn, if they pick on danny he doesnt need to be the 'bigger person' he needs to start biting people)

-SAM TRYING TO SMUGGLE FROGS OUT OF THE BIO LAB?? girl in middle school when we had to dissect frogs we could opt out, also, they came to us already dead and preserved...

-sidney's lingo and the fact hes in black and white is sending me. also, danny is a ghost celebrity apparently for being a halfa?? ok. thats interesting to know

-the DENTIST BEING EXCITED ABOUT THE COTTON CANDY FLOOD IS THE FUNNIEST THING SO FAR.

-I LOOOVE the trope of 'wishes gone wrong'. not crazy about the stereotypical genie, or the use of the dreamcatcher looking design. (also, I KNOW theyre scientists but the way theyre handling a cold...are the fentons ANTIVAX)

-the genie. she. whitewished paulina. JKASDFHKJ. (the ghost literally just being hello kitty???? im dying) 'why do i feel that im special and wonderful? because I AM! <3' paulina ilu self worth queen. felt bad for her also getting possessed by (2) boys later who were arguing INSIDE HER. WTF.

-imagine being the guy trapped in his now flying car. he thought danny and tucker were HALUCINATIONS. imagine being trapped in a flying car with two, what you think are imaginary arguing 14 year olds convinced ur gonna die. i WOULD say this dude is gonna need so much therapy, but he seemed totally fine and excited when they landed (I would be happy too if a chicken was on my head. chickens rule) stoner rights

-sam's bat slippers??? iconic. SO cute.

-I think desiree's backstory is so :( do all ghosts have messed up sad backstories?? poindexter's was sad too...cannot imagine box ghost has any kind of fucked up backstory. but what if. his mom got pushed off cliffs by boxes...........a la cruella... anyway her 'no man may lay a hand on me' iconic. ilu

-I know danny has no concept of how much bras cost but my god dont attack tucker with some girls bra. those are so expensive.

-its really. well its not a GOOD THING he went into the portal and got fucked up, but its good danny was the one to do it rather than sam or tucker. because even tho he was being influenced by desiree and kept getting more malicious and it prob wasnt 100% him...he sucked as a ghost like most the people he 'pranked' were innocent ppl just Chillin and he didnt want to help anyone at all. I think danny is the most responsible out of them but also, hes 14 and shouldnt HAVE to feel obligated to fight every ghost. hes a good kid and wants to, but I also feel like he feels like...responsible for the portal turning on?? because his parents did give it up,, but it was an accident and not his fault (if anything, why was the on switch on the inside. why was it that easy. why was there no safety measures. that seems like smth OSHA needs to hear about). like thats my son. hes a good boy. and hes never done anything wrong in his life, ever. if anyone hurts him im killing everyone in this room and then myself. etc.

-danny's curfew is 10PM????? DUDE. when I was 14...shit I couldn't be out that late, I had to be back at like, 8 at the latest, and my parents had to know exactly where and who I was going with, AND i had to call/text them regularly...is this a case of my parents being overbearing, or the fentons sucking??? the only time i could EVER be out that late was if I was at an overnight sleepover or smth...

-the vultures have lil fezes. why do they have fezes...theyre so fuckin funny 'ask him for directions' 'I KNOW WHERE IM GOING' these ghost vultures are my new grandpas. pick them up, put them in the adopt box.

-'I wonder why those guys were trying to waste dad!' THEYRE GHOSTS. YOUR DAD HUNTS GHOSTS. why is that not a conclusion you'd immediately jump to??

-*jazz voice, clearly disgusted* WISCONSIN???

-mrs fenton with the lab coat and leg warmers and PERM. YESSS STYLISH.

-was going to say 'ew billionaire' @vlad but. super valid he used his powers to assumedly steal and cheat to get that money, thats how all billionaires do it! but ew hes a SIMP. and spending your billions on FOOTBALL STUFF?? you are Not Valid overall. I DO respect the fact you have a castle instead of a mansion. in wisconsin. if youre going to be stupidly rich might as well go all out, torches on the wall and all. I DO like his ghost form's little kitty ears. catman. and his cape! every design can benefit from a cape. and how different his forms look, like danny looks the EXACT SAME IN BOTH FORMS ASIDE FROM COLOR CHANGES. vlad's is like,, I could believe they were different people!! also I love the drama. but dude you are fighting a 14 year old. lame. also he was like, telling danny he wanted his mom and him and like, wanted him to renounce his dad?? WHAT ABOUT JAZZ?? bitch. those r MY kids and they are both important and special. I do agree they need better parents but thats not u sir <3

-I thought vlad's 'little badger' nickname for danny came from the football mascot of the packers, but google says they have NO MASCOT?? so now I'm like?? is it because his hair is sometimes black and sometimes white?? I hate to give him props but thats a PERFECT NICKNAME. theyre also tiny and vicious!

-why did I get so excited that Skulker is back!! its been like. 2-3 eps LMAO. AND THE DAIRY KING. ICONIC I LOVE HIM. hes the nicest guy ever :) more nice ghosts please. danny cannot be fighting alone everytime with no ghost buds like every ghost being hostile sucks :(

-mr. fenton knew vlad was controlling him, but a few episodes ago he had no clue danny was doing the same thing...is it something about how malicious the ghost is?? he just seemed to think his memory had gaps the first time, this time he was INSTANTLY LIKE 'GHOST'. then again in this ep when danny did it again he was just slightly confused but not immediately freaking out like he did with vlad possessing him!!

-'my parents will accept ME NO MATTER WHAT' so. so why haven't you come out to them yet, danny?? if you really think that?? if theres no harm, and you're sure??? if vlad is a real problem, wouldnt that make dealing with him easier, to expose him???? SO WHY HAVENT YOU COME OUT YET?? COULD IT BE,, MAYBE YOU HAVE DOUBTS ABOUT WHETHER YOUR PARENTS ACTUALLY WILL ACCEPT YOU??? 🤔 ... 🏳‍🌈 I get why people say He Is Trans. I totally totally get u danny.

-sorta unrelated, but it just occurred to me in one of these eps they go to casper HIGH not casper middle school??? theyre 14?? dont highschools usually do ages 15-18? (I didnt go to hs so I might be wrong, if I am ignore this...) freshmen are usually 14-15, could just be a case of them not turning 15 yet but they will sometime in the school year (I say they because tucker said he was 14 too)? I know the show has 3 seasons, so by the end of it will they be older? thatd be neat but usually cartoon characters stay the same age...I love shows where you can see the characters age and grow up, though...three seasons seems like a long time to spend on like, 1 year...

[wormstacheangel]

What are the best episodes with Castiel to watch?

Hello! Sorry, this took me a while to answer but here you go! If I miss some it’s cause I don’t remember anything or I was just Bleh about it.

Castiel Epiosdes

4x01 ICONIC 

4x16 ICONIC

4x20 Jimmy is important to Cas and I love him. 

4x22 ICONIC Greenroom. Cas picks a side aka Dean.

5x03 Cas and Dean being friends! Gay panic is real my friends. 

5x04 THE END. “It's the end, baby. “

5x13 “Sam is my friend.” 

5x14 Cupid (He made a cameo video it was cute) and Cas eating raw meat off the floor.

5x16 “You son of a bitch! I believed in-” OWW

5x17 Drunk Cas.

5x18 At this point he’s just done with everything. So he just carves, YES CARVES, an angel banishing sigil into his own chest. He does not hesitate.

Season 6 is good for Cas because the whole time he’s apart of a civil war and is just a terrible liar.

6x06 I am trying not to make this list about Destiel but the scene where Cas pours Dean’s drink. 

6x10 Pizza Man.

6x19 Baby in a trenchcoat aka leader of the heaven rebellion but sure Dean. He’s just cute. 

6x20 ICONIC 

6x21& 22 Both show that Cas is slowly realizing that he is not in control. 

7x01 The whole episode is wild but Cas just going to heaven and saying I’m Daddy now really takes the cake. (not the actual words he used.)

7x02 Cas’s death #3?

7x17 MISHA -- OH um, I mean CAS to the rescue lol

7x21 His cute little laugh! Honey!Cas has my heart and soul. Bonus Destiel: “ When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!” RIP Hester Queen

7x23 “Cursed or not.” Also his little smile when he asks for the plan ahh!

aka all episodes in s7 with Cas in it is worth watching.

Okay, I’ll try to control myself now but watch all of s8 cause its beautiful.

8x02 We see Dean’s POV to the purgatory portal scene. Also, hear Cas’s reason for leaving Dean.

8x07 We see Cas’s POV of the purgatory pov scene. Also, learn how Cas escapes purgatory. 

8x08 “I’m gonna be a hunter.” He’s so CUTE!

8x10 Cas needs a hug. Please.

8x17 ICONIC. “what broke the connection?” AHH

8x21 Badass Castiel

8x22 & 23 Castiel wants to do good. He wants to help but he just puts his trust in the wrong people. It hurts me so much. Look he’s just a small child and he is dealing with a lot right now. 

Season 9 Cas looks good. Like fanservice time father of two!

9x01 First look at human Cas!

9x03 I can’t watch this ending again. It’ll make me spiral. But it’s a good human Cas and destiel episode. Also, fuck April. She gross. 

9x06 ICONIC BLESSED jilted lover. 

9x09 He looks good.

9x10 “I prefer the word trusting. Less dumb. Less ass.” They are both dumbasses.

9x11 Sam & Cas chaotic vibes

9x14 Cas storyline with the angels starts or at least makes it more clear idk

9x18 Gabriel! Also, “Damn it, Dean!” and Cas accepts his role as a leader. The angels are dumb. 

9x22 Sam & Cas dream team lol Also, Cas picks Dean over heaven again.

9x23  “--and for what again? Oh, that's right -- to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human, right? Well, guess what. He's dead, too.”

10x01 Cas draped across the bed like a victorian lady waiting for her husband to come back from the war

10x03 You know that scene where he’s lying on the floor bloody and dying and the Crowley saves him. And then Cas glows and heals with grace and he’s glaring up at Crowley? You know that scene. Yeah. Bonus: I’m gay and bloody Hannah is also hot. Small tip: Ignore the creepy/gross Hannah and Cas set up the writers are trying to do. They are siblings. 

10x09 Claire! That’s his daughter!

10x10 Claire and Cas make me cry.

10x14 Deleted scene of “Maybe he’s your boyfriend.” 

10x17 Sam & Cas! They are best friends, you guys!

10x18 Charlie and Cas meet! AND THEY ARE ALL HAPPY AND I CRY

10x20 Claire! Cas get’s her a birthday present, grumpy cat stuffy, and she keeps it! And I cry. And she saves him. And she cares about him. 

okay 10x21 cause of Charlie and Cas but also fuck this episode. Charlie deserved better. 

10x22 ICONIC gosh damn it. I-

10x23 Just for backstory for Cas in s11. Our poor boy can't catch a break. 

I worked on this for two hours now Nonny and I don’t even care. I miss Cas.

Season 11 hurts my damn soul because of Cas. I won’t include Casifer, though it was A LOT of fun to watch him.

11x01 “Dean, did it work?” I wanna hold this poor sad madly in love man. 

11x02 I can’t handle the torture. He looks so sad.

11x03 Bless you director, Jensen Ross Ackles.

11x04 Okay, not a lot of Cas but I love this episode. 

11x06 They don’t talk about his trauma but they show us a little when he tries to leave the bunker. And I cried. Once again. Let. Me. Hold. Him. 

11x10 Ambriel glad you are dead cause you were SO rude. Also, Amara girly, queen, I love you but apologize. Stop being mean to Castiel.

11x22 Cas get’s to talk and that’s nice

11x23 “I can go with you.” Sir, you just came back from being possessed by THEE satan and now you are ready to die by your future husband's side. You need therapy. 

Okay, I stopped watching live after season 11 because of the way they treated Cas so these next seasons I binged watched ( a couple of times) but wasn’t apart of the fandom so it feels like I didn’t fully grasp them. But here we go!

12x01 Cas meets his mother-in-law. Also the little, “Dean!” when he hugs him. 

12x02 Cas and Mick :)

12x03 Agent Beyonce and Zee lol Cas and Crowley and should have had a sitcom 

12x08 Cas gets a text (angel radio) that he’s gonna be a Dad and it looks like when Alice had a vision of the Volturi in Breaking Dawn Part 2 lol

12x09 Let me hug Cas! He’s sad over his family being gone. Also, Mary, I love you but I don’t forgive anybody for being mean to Cas. All the Winchesters are on thin fucking ice with me. 

12x10 ICONIC destiel. Cas in a female vessel. 

12x12 ICONIC “I love you. I love all of you.” 

12x19 Worried husband Dean. Excited soon-to-be father Cas.

12x23 Cas dies (again) from child birth.

Watch the first few episodes of season 13 for the famous widower arc cause wtf they gave us THAT. Also, I don’t care for the other world storyline so I pushed that out of my head. 

13x04 Cas annoying a cosmic entity. Fun fact! I dislike the trenchcoat cause it looked so stiff and the color was off idk didn’t look great but Cas looked beautiful when he looks up at the sun! Ah!

13x05 IT’S NOT TOO LATE TO START ALL OVER AGAIN

13x06 ICONIC BROKEBACKNATURAL Also, Jack and Cas meet and I cried damn it. “I missed you.” That’s his son!

13x07 Cas doesn’t put anybody or anything above his baby boy

13x12 Cas has the dumbest husband but at least Cas stabs lucifer. Bet Misha felt good

13x14 Badass Cas. He’s a top. lol 

13x16 ICONIC Cas looks...great. Like, watch it. I would do anything for cartoon!cas

13x19Just cause Cas faced someone who tortured him and it’s made to seem like he should get over it and it pisses me off. But Naomi is so cool so idk I like her but would fight her

13x22 Otherworld Cas is there and Cas just kills himself. He needs therapy. 

13x23 Cas’s face when Dean says yes. Also, family hunting trip yay

14x01 Dadstiel! Also, Cas looks good. 

14x03 Dadstiel.

14x07 Dadstiel. “Losing a son feels different.” And I cry. 

14x08 “because I love you Jack. And Sam and Dean--they love you.” THEY DO LOVE HIM AHHHH! Also, Empty deal is made as an excuse for the writers to do something with Cas later. 

I just realized season 14 is just Cas trying desperately to keep his family together. He’s trying to take care of them and he has the right words to say to everyone but not much happens besides him wanting to be a family man. 

14x14 gay on gay violence lol Also another family hunting trip! 

14x15 Fav episode! I just love Sam & Cas’s dumb chaotic energy in this ahaha! They are best friends damn it!

14x18 Cas is trying desperately to keep his family together and he feels responsible for Mary

14x19 Cas should have been allowed to kick Sam and Dean’s dumb flat asses for locking his baby boy in a box. 

14x20 AHHH

Divorce arc! All of s15 is great! Except you know...19&20 but we ignore that in this house. 

15x03 ICONIC but I will never watch it again

15x06 dude, they really be broken up. Cas kicks ass by himself and he’s fishing and he’s so cute. 

15x09 ICONIC Let him talk, Castiel!

15x11 Cas is THEE best Dad and let’s Jack eat hearts

15x13 Just for the family.

15x15 :(

15x17 Cas working to keep his baby boy

15x18 :( I mean at least he’s out but :(

Okay, this took me all day and I had fun! Nobody is gonna read it but who cares cause I just spent my day thinking of Cas when I had a pretty shit day so thanks, Nonnie! 

[tenthgrove]

L'inizio- A La Squadra Backstory Collection

Chapter 3: Due Cuori (Sorbet & Gelato Part 1)

Word Count: ~3800

Warnings: parental abandonment, homelessness, mildly-suggestive behaviour

The young boy sobs into the bag he’s carrying as he flees down the dark, damp street. The quick-paced footsteps of his pursuer sound loudly as they smack against the wet concrete. The boy prays for some rain to cover the sounds of his panting and running, but he knows such luck will not be afforded to him.

He is out of his depth in this part of Naples. Not yet 14, he’s one of many such young fools who thought it would be easy to snatch a little money from one of the smaller street gangs that roam this part of the town, making the crucial mistake of thinking ‘smaller’ was synonymous with less relentless. The boy has barely a moment to comprehend the dead end ahead of him before he is knocked sharply around the back of his head and sent reeling to the floor.

“Where the hell is my money, you shit?!” the angered man interrogates him sharply. He rears a clenched fist ready to strike him again, and the boy cowers against the wall.

“It’s there! Right there!” he shrieks desperately, pointing at the back dropped at his side. The man spits. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gun. “I swear Signor! The money’s there!” the boy pleads, his voice hitching in mortal terror. The man scoffs venomously.

“Yeah, I heard.”

Two shots ring out, but they aren’t aimed at the boy. The man’s blood splashes over him as he chokes on it, falling to the ground without a word. The boy counts two wounds on the man’s back.

The figure at the end of the alleyway lowers his gun and begins to approach. He is somewhere on the boundary between boyhood and manhood, perhaps about 18, at a first guess. He is darkly dressed, with hair to match, and he returns his weapon to his pocket with a detached smoothness that suggests great experience with the murderous act. He leans over the boy and picks up his bag, smiling in satisfaction at the wad of cash crudely jammed inside. He zips the bag up and hauls it over his shoulder.

“Grazie,” he thanks him, turning away and beginning his journey back down the alleyway.

He does not walk far before he reaches his destination- a small house in a densely packed row just a street away. He knocks calmly, and the door soon opens.

“Ah, Sorbet,” the responder answers. “I thought I’d heard gunfire.”

“’Evening Gabriele,” he greets him, sorting off some of the money in his hands. “20,000 lire says I can stay the night.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Gabriele agrees with a small chuckle. “Come right in, friend.”

Sorbet removes his jacket and seats himself down on the sofa, shuffling the bag protectively behind his legs. He takes off his own bag as well and pilfers through to find the chewing gum he’s been saving for this evening.

“May I ask how you still haven’t found a place of your own? Surely you must be rolling in it from all that blood money you’ve got lately. Hell,” he remarks, eyeing the money poking out from behind Sorbet’s lap. “You could probably sort yourself out for a couple months on that alone.”

“You can certainly ask,” Sorbet answers apathetically.

“Well?”

Sorbet looks at him contemplatively before deciding he’s in the mood for compliance tonight. He leans back.

“To put it simply I’ve just been out of it too long. ‘Don’t have my birth certificate, ‘don’t have any documents of that sort. I left home at 14 and frankly I’d be shocked if I wasn’t legally dead by now. Well, assuming my mum was ever lucid enough to do the paperwork, that is.”

“You could rent a flat from the gang. They’d hardly say no to you,” Gabriele suggests.

“Not really a fan of that sort of obligation, Gabe,” Sorbet refutes him. “Besides, the quote on quote ‘buildings’ the gang owns get busted by the cops all the time. I hardly wanna deal with that at 1 in the morning.”

“True,” Gabriele snorts. A knock sounds at the door. “Who the fuck at this time of night?” he gripes.

“No idea, but have fun with them,” Sorbet says, getting to his feet. “I’m off to help myself to your shower,” he announces, departing up the stairs. Gabriele answers the door.

“H-Hello,” the newcomer greets. It’s another teenager, with messy blond hair and a sky of freckles. He shivers into his thin jacket, hand red-raw from clutching his heavy bag. “Are you Gabriele?” he asks.

“Who’s asking?” Gabriele says with scrutiny.

“My name is Gelato, sir. You don’t know me, but I know a friend of yours from Florence, well, small village outside of Florence, I’m sure you know which one I mean. I heard from him you wanted to get someone to do errands for you and well, I was wondering if I could do that for you,” the boy offers. There’s a wild look in his desperate green eyes, and Gabriele knows this won’t end quickly for him.

“Kid, that was weeks ago! What the hell took you so long?” he asks.

“It’s not my fault I had to walk here!” Gelato protests. “Look, I got kicked out by my parents, I’m only 17 and if you don’t help me I’ll have nowhere to go!” he pleads.

“That’s rough and all, but the job’s closed. Go find a shelter or something.”

“PLEASE!” Gelato begs. He’s trembling, but there’s a touch of anger in his eyes as he glares at him that makes Gabriele mildly scared to turn him down.

“Look, I have neither the need nor the money for another errand boy right now. But, now I think of it I do know a guy who needs someone to manage a bar for him. Make no mistake, it’s nothing more than a meet-up spot for the gang so don’t expect anything fancy, but I think it has a flat upstairs. Maybe you can ask to move into the place as your pay.”

“A bar? That’s perfect!” Gelato enthuses. “Thank you thank you so much!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’m happy for you. Now If I go give the guy a call will you please piss off?” Gabriele entreats him.

“Anything you say sir! Thank you!” Gelato agrees. Gabriele heads for his phone with a sigh.

::::::::::::

An hour later, Gelato finds himself in the staff-only section of what was once a fully functioning bar.

“Look kid, it’s not hard stuff,” his guide tells him. “Just keep ‘em drunk enough they can’t kill each other and ring me up if you hear any talk the boss ought to here,” he explains.

“Yes sir, I will,” Gelato answers dutifully. The man opens a rickety door leading to a thin, steep staircase. Gelato follows him up.

“And, this is the flat you were so eager about,” the man announces, looking over the dark, dust-filled space of the bare-bones apartment. There’s a frightful stain on the sofa, and one of the kitchen cabinet doors is hanging on one hinge. “Consider yourself lucky I’m letting you have it when I could be giving it to someone who pays. Don’t expect a penny more from me, this is your full payment,” he continues.

“But how will I eat?” Gelato protests.

“I guess you better hope they tip you good,” the man answers apathetically. “Look, if you do a good job and don’t piss me off, maybe I can spare a few thousand lire a night later on, but until then, you’re getting no more help from me,” he maintains. “Maybe you should learn to pickpocket. ‘Useful skill to have around here.”

Gelato growls inwardly. Of course he knows how to pickpocket! Well- how to pickpocket 13 year olds outside a school gate. Grown men might be a different matter, but he’ll figure it out. Getting caught can’t be much worse than what happened when his parents found out.

“Alright. Thanks,” Gelato forces himself to say. The man gives a satisfied nod and exits.

“Make sure you know where everything is before you open at 9,” he says.

Gelato seeks out the bedroom and lies down, not caring how musty the frayed sheets smell. He grabs the pillow and hugs it close to him like a stuffed toy. It occurs to him that he’s scared.

::::::::::::

It takes him a month to accept his parents aren’t taking him back, two to stop fucking up every day of his life and three to feel some sense of normalcy in his new life at the bar. That’s not to say he’s happy, by any means, simply that he holds onto his current existence with a vice-grip, for fear that things could only get worse if he shook the boat too much.

He sleeps until noon, usually, leaves the house as soon as he’s awake enough to do so and just walks. Anywhere. Sometimes he tries to pickpocket but ever since that beating he earned from a poorly chosen victim, he saves it for his most desperate days. After lunch, if he has any, he sometimes goes to the library. He was never much of a scholar and rarely reads, but he finds the place more pleasant to dissociate in than his apartment.

Should he feel like treating himself, he occasionally visits the arcade when he has the change to spare. After it became clear letting him waste away was not in the landlord’s best interests if he wanted his bar to stay running, he began to help a little with food costs but nowhere near enough for such frivolous outings to be frequently affordable.

Around 3pm, Gelato goes home and sleeps until his hunger forces him to get up and eat. He likes to make a start early on setting up the bar, and cleaning it from the messes of its previous nights patrons, so he tries to begin by 7. It opens at 9 and closes at 2, after which Gelato will shower, and spend a short stretch of time watching the old, boxy TV he pulled out of the attic in bed, before sleeping.

As he exits the cellar, he receives a few apathetic glances from some of the patrons but ultimately nothing much. His eyes are on the far corner of the bar where, to perhaps less of his concern than it should be, two men are engaged in a heated argument. It’s a sight he’s well used to now, but he keeps a keen watch on the men, since the landlord insisted he de-escalate anything that looks like it may prove fatal.

“I don’t care what your excuses are! We had a deal and you’re going to fucking pay me!” The first man shouts. He is one of the younger ones, probably little older than Gelato but with an air of authority more akin to some of the older individuals in the mob. He has heard whispers about this man- his name is Sorbet and he is an enforcer. The mobsters are cautious about the word ‘assassin’, it makes them sound like a more ambitious group than they truly are, one that could be deemed a threat by the larger syndicates that truly control this city. Yet, Gelato reads between the lines when they talk about the things Sorbet has done. As Gelato approaches Sorbet’s eyes flick towards him momentarily. Gelato shies away from the eye contact and feels an odd feeling inside him. Seeing Sorbet always makes him feel odd. He doesn’t dare speak to him directly.

“Whatever. It ain’t on me if you misread what we were talking about. You did me a favour, nothing more,” the second man retorts. He’s another regular, as familiar to Gelato, if not more, than Sorbet is, even if he doesn’t know him by name. He is a cruel man, impatient and aggressive whenever he visits. Gelato always tremors a little when he comes through the door.

Still, he scares him less than Sorbet.

Gelato forces a smile as he approaches the second man.

“Pardon me, could I get you any more-” he inhales sharply as the half-full bottle of wine is chucked over him.

“Yes, one more of these,” the man orders coldly. Gelato wipes his eyes.

“Right away,” he nods, turning back towards the cellar and fighting every fibre of his being telling him not to let this slide.

Gelato descends into the cellar, shaking from the cold of his wet clothes and anger. As he pulls a new bottle off the shelf he wonders briefly if he ought to piss in it, but decides the best result that could come of that is having it thrown over him again. He pats down his shirt and takes the bottle back up to the bar.

He knows what has happened before the door is even open. The sound of shouting is familiar to him, and if the past few minutes is anything to go by, it’s Sorbet and that petulant man’s feud which has turned violent. Opening the door proves his theory, as a small crowd has formed around Sorbet and his opponent as they engage in a relentless match of fists.

Gelato debates to himself. He could put down the bottle and run, he could try and calm the men down and risk one or both of them turning their anger on him, or he could use this opportunity to finally get back at that bastard’s disrespect. Gelato’s never been much of a thinking sort. His mind doesn’t take long to settle on the third option. He rears the bottle above his head and charges.

There’s a collective gasp of shock as Gelato suddenly crashes into the man, smashing the bottle over the back of his skull with full strength. It shatters, and the man falls to the floor with a groan. Gelato looks up at Sorbet, briefly fearing his interference may have provoked anger but, Sorbet only smiles.

Gelato rushes to his feet just in time to join his new ally in kicking the man, again and again until he starts to spit blood. Gelato picks up the remains of the bottle’s base and pours out the remaining liquid onto his enemy’s face in one, final insult. The crowd cheers. Evidently this man was not so popular with the gang after all.

Gelato sits down, whoozy from exhaustion and adrenaline. He finds himself laughing. He cannot recall the last time he’s done that. Sorbet leans down and pulls a stack of cash from the unconscious man’s pocket.

“Lying bastard,” he scoffs. “He did have the money. Probably a lot more than I asked for, but I can hardly complain about that.” Sorbet turns to Gelato with a look of deliberation. He pulls out one of the 50,000 lire bills and hands it to him with a smile.

“For your trouble,” he declares. He withdraws his hand with a slow deliberateness, their fingertips touching for just the briefest of seconds. The odd feeling Gelato has felt since laying eyes on Sorbet returns with a vengeance, and yet, Gelato can feel nothing but awe as it begins to eat his heart.

Oh dear. Gelato might have a crush.

::::::::::::

It is three days later to the hour, that Gelato finds himself hauled into the cellar and pinned against the wall, mouth agape in shock as Sorbet digs his fingers into his neck. It occurs to Gelato he might have gone about this the wrong way.

“Alright, spit it out,” Sorbet demands. “What the hell was that up there?”

“Pardon?” Gelato pleads fearfully.

“Did you think I would let you get away with mocking me like that?” Sorbet asks through gritted teeth. Gelato’s mind turns to the myriad of weapons no doubt hidden in Sorbet’s clothes. That thought shouldn’t endear him as much as it does.

“Mocking?”

“Oh? Is there another explanation for why you would behave like that around me? Humiliate me in front of half my gang? Well?!” Sorbet entreats him. His grip around his neck tightens

“Flirting! It was flirting!” Gelato confesses desperately. Sorbet’s grip lessens.

“What?”

“Look. I think I like guys, you like guys or at least everyone says you do. And- I think I might like you a lot so- I wanted your attention. I wanted to talk to you again,” Gelato admits sheepishly. His cheeks start to burn, and it isn’t from the lack of oxygen any more.

Sorbet looks like something in his brain must have just blown a fuse. Perhaps Gelato should take this opportunity to run, since this half-assed attempt at seduction is clearly a resounding failure.

But then Sorbet starts to laugh. It’s a low, quiet laugh but nonetheless genuine as he fixes his eyes warmly on the floor.

“Oh you dear thing. That isnot how this works,” he says. Gelato breathes out in relief, as well as a little disappointment.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. This was stupid I should- probably just go back to my work,” he apologises. His body goes still as Sorbet touches a hand to his cheek.

“Though if you ever want my attention again,” he leans in and presses his lips lightly against Gelato’s. “You should just ask.”

Sorbet lets out a little hum of amusement at the sight of Gelato’s shock. He caresses his face once more, touching his finger to a little curl of hair as he does so, before finally freeing Gelato from his hold.

“See you later,” he promises, before leaving him alone in the cellar. Above him, Gelato hears Sorbet walk out in the direction of the front door. Gelato collects himself, and calmly wanders over to the sink, waiting patiently for it to fill with water.

He sticks his head in and screams.

::::::::::::

Sorbet visits the bar twice weekly, no different from before. But he starts visiting Gelato more often. Barely a week from their first kiss, they are in bed together, Gelato clinging onto his new love tightly as he reads. This touch is alien to him and in spite of his joy, he cannot help but quiver as Sorbet pets his hair. He wonders how he ever lived his life without knowing joy this strong.

Their second week is easier. They both start to become accustomed to this newfound love and no longer think of each other as strangers. Gelato knows Sorbet’s full name now, he knows which street he grew up on and the names and ages of each of his siblings. Sorbet knows what Gelato’s parents did for a living. He knows the name of the boy he had his first real fight with, and the therapist who tried and failed to relieve him of the ‘learning disabilities’ that made his parents despise him so deeply. Sorbet tries to at least drop in on most days, but when he can’t, he calls Gelato to tell him where he’s staying for the night. Gelato thinks of him as he falls asleep, hugging his pillow close.

By week three, the pair have found a new normal together. Sorbet sleeps over more often than not, and the bar patrons now know full well not to cause Gelato trouble when Sorbet is in the building. Sorbet has made every aspect of Gelato’s life more enjoyable, and he can see in Sorbet’s eyes that the feeling goes both ways. Gelato knows why Sorbet left home four years ago, and Sorbet knows how Gelato really wants to get revenge of his parents for abandoning him. On precisely day 19 of their affair, Gelato asked Sorbet if he planned to keep doing this with him forever. Sorbet did not hesitate in saying yes.

It’s a few days later that Sorbet comes to the bar with an especially warm smile on his usually cold face. Gelato thought little of putting down his current orders to rush over and greet him at the door.

“Sorbet, you’re here early!” Gelato enthuses. Sorbet pecks his cheek.

“I thought we might spend a night to ourselves. I think you need it, Caro.”

“But Sorbet, the bar doesn’t close for three more hours yet!” Gelato reminds him.

“Not if I can help it.”

Sorbet raises his gun and fires it twice at the ceiling. The patrons look up in fear. “Alright, everyone out. Bar’s closed,” he announces. The patrons sheepishly get to their feet and file out.

“But, the landlord!” Gelato protests.

“Fuck the landlord. If he has a problem with this, he goes through me,” Sorbet maintains. Gelato’s breath escapes him with a laugh and he follows him upstairs.

“Really, tell me,” Gelato insists light-heartedly. “What’s brought this on?” He turns around and his face falls to see that Sorbet is looking saddened.

“I- saw my siblings today,” he announces.

“Are they… okay?” Gelato asks worriedly.

“Oh, they’re fine. I saw them down at the cafe, they didn’t notice me. Taking a look at the other ones, I’m assuming the older ones are getting better at taking care of them. It makes sense, given the ages they’re getting to. The issue is… there was another baby, this time, who wasn’t there before,” Sorbet reveals. “Probably just a month or so old, from the looks of her.”

“Sorbet…”

“My sister,” Sorbet says, bringing his head into his hands. “And I don’t even know her name!”

“Sorbet,” Gelato says, taking his head in his own hands. “It isn’t your fault the way your mother is. Looking after them isn’t your responsibility.”

“It was,” Sorbet reminds him. “Then I left.”

“Look, I’m sure they’re fine,” Gelato reiterates. “Believe me when I say there are many worse things older siblings can do than just not look after you. Now,” he begins. “How about that night we were going to have together,” he smiles.

“Right,” Sorbet recalls, pecking him on the nose. “It’s you I came to see.”

Sorbet leans forward and kisses him deeply. Gelato, so recently a stranger to the sensation, leans in further to the kiss, pawing teasingly at Sorbet’s chest to urge him on. Sorbet groans to the kiss, hooking a hand around Gelato’s collar. Downstairs, something crashes loudly.

Sorbet pulls back. He sees Gelato’s eyes widen in fear as a parade of footsteps stumble into the building. Sorbet presses a kiss to his cheek reassuringly.

“Stay calm,” he urges him. “Not a sound.”

Sorbet stands up and, watching his feet on the old floorboards, moves over to the window to peer outside.

“Shit!” he exclaims, ducking away out of view.

“What is it?” Gelato whispers.

“The police. Two cars.”

“Are they here for us?” Gelato asks, voice hitching in fear. Sorbet shakes his head quickly.

“Unlikely. They most likely thought the place was empty. If we are quick, we can still leave without them seeing us,” he promises. Gelato shrinks back.

“I’m scared,” he admits. Sorbet takes his hand in his.

“Just stay with me okay? I’ll protect you.”

[datawyrms]

Dannymay2020 Day 31: Free Day (ghost sword fight lets go)

It was for science, a good cause. His life would be so much better if he didn’t have to hear his parents gleefully discuss ripping apart some mindless ectoplasmic scum molecule by molecule. Right now though, he was remembering the other reason he flinched in horror when having to take his parents anywhere. Complete embarrassment. One extra downside to ghost powers: knowing you actually can just have the ground swallow you up in shame, but knowing you really, really shouldn’t. When your dad is sitting with sodas strapped to his head and waving a foam finger with your friend’s name on it, it got very tempting.

He’d almost prefer dealing with an ecto gun. “Dad, you’re actually going to pay attention, right?”

“Course I will Danny-boy! That goth friend of yours will kick that ghost right back to its own dimension, and I’ll be watching.”

The half ghost groaned, crossing his arms. “Dad.”

“And totally see if it’s actually a fight with rules. I did listen, son! It’s just good to see young people taking up ghost hunting!”

“This isn’t ghost hunting!”

“Right. Your friend is just going to clobber a ghost with a sword. For Science!”

Well he wasn’t wrong exactly, but it wasn’t helping him not regret every second of this stupid plan. “It’s more Sam’s doing the ghost a favour, and Sam’s doing me a favour by letting us watch. Sooo don’t go calling the ghost scum or anything. Please.”

“Hmmhm. I did read your notes son. You think I’d come with no weapons if I thought your observations were shoddy?” he clapped the boy on the back, who had to struggle to not fall over. “Still gotta root for your friend kiddo!”

Yes. Yes he did, actually. Yet asking his dad to maybe be a little less enthusiastic was like asking the sun to maybe be a little less bright. Pointless, and possibly amusing to anyone overhearing you. “She manages without a cheering section most of the time,” he felt the need to point out before heading down the hill to check in with Sam.

“I don’t know what I expected. Not that, that’s for sure.”

“Tell me about it. I didn’t think he’d do anything but scowl from the hill because he’s worried about a dastardly ghost. Sorry.” he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking between his friend and the bright orange blight on the hillside.

“Nah. Arlas will probably get a kick out of it anyway, she likes having an audience,” Sam shrugged, fiddling with the lightweight wooden sword. “I have a few new tricks. Who knew Star of all people would like fencing?”

“Did she swear you to secrecy?”

“Bought my silence by being a pretty good practice partner,” her grin faded somewhat “Guess I’ve been buying into their ‘popular’ shtick too. She’s not that bad.”

“Then I’ll pretend you didn’t tell me. You don’t think she’ll try and talk to Dad, right? That could get ugly real quick.”

“She might. She knows to keep the whole met in the ghost zone thing quiet, but I can’t promise much else,”

“Well I can’t promise he won’t call her putrid protoplasm so we’re totally doomed.”

“Maybe we can make it sound like good natured ribbing?”

“With what ribs?” Danny smirked in spite of himself

“Oh shut up you. Go worry about not turning invisible trying to hide from your dad or something. I’ve got this.”

He nodded, backing off to head back to his expected spot. He wasn’t meant to know the ghost well, after all. He did notice the ghost showing up before anyone else, but forced himself to act oblivious.

“Oh, there’s the spook! You mentioned the heavy leg armor, these ones can’t do the leg shapeshifting thing, right?”

Danny blinked. He’d actually read and paid attention to all of it? “Yeah, that’s right. It can be pretty heavy since they don’t have to walk much with the whole flying thing, apparently.” his eyes flicked to his Dad’s face, trying to figure out how the man felt about Sam and this ghost greeting one another in friendly terms. He didn’t look angry, so maybe it was a good sign?

“First to three hits is what you said, right?”

Man this felt weird. Answering things about ghosts without constantly worrying he’d be called a ghost for it. “Sam’s pretty sure five would take too long. Either because she gets tired out, or a ghost hunter barging in.” Something he had almost done three times, but he couldn’t mention that bit.

Jack kept his eyes fixed on the two, leaning forward even as he slurped from the ridiculous soda contraption. “That’s how she wins, right son?” he pointed as Sam blocked a swing and danced backwards, forcing the knight to give chase. “She outruns em and can go for smaller openings.”

“How did yo-yeah. That’s usually how, since she can’t just fly after her…” How could he pick up on that and not his son literally falling through things for a month?

Arlas looked as if she might have caught on to Sam’s usual plan as well, backing off instead of pursuing after another failed clash. He honestly had zero idea what to do in that situation that wasn’t ‘shoot ecto blast’, but his friend seemed to have a decent idea, feigning a left swing before jabbing forward at a much greater speed.

“Ha! Lookit that, already winning!”

“You’ll distract her if you cheer louder.”

“Nah, your little friends are tough!”

He did seem to be right, the boisterous cheering when Sam had the upper hand not earning as much as a glance from the fight. Sam did shoot Danny a look at the boo his Dad made when Arlas managed to turn a block into a strike Sam couldn’t defend against in time, and he could only shrug. Hopefully the knight wasn’t too annoyed at the blatant favoritism. Or maybe she expected it, being a visitor and all.

Still, making it through the combat without having to stop his Dad from trying to capture or hurt the ghost was pretty good. Even if it was still really weird to have him just watch. He personally didn’t even need to watch the fight, watching Jack was more than enough indication on how things were going. Okay, maybe he was a bit paranoid, watching just in case he had to do some split second overshadowing. Moreso now that the ghost apparently wanted to say hello to the watching human, to his complete dismay.

“Oh, so it is a family thing! What interesting armor.” Arlas said, looking at the bright orange jumpsuit. 

Jack did seem a little surprised at the possible complement, hiding it with a nod. “Always need to be prepared!”

Danny manared to peek out from behind his fingers. Dad hadn’t threatened her. That was progress. That was good! Him possibly wondering why she thought jumpsuits were a family thing was not good! Sam’s advice of remembering not to turn invisible suddenly seemed very useful.

“Still I hope it was a good show. Sir Manson is still a bit too fast for me, but I’ll figure out a way around that soon, you’ll see.”

“You could just lose the armor, you’re way better at planning than I am.” Sam pointed out, earning a laugh from the ghost.

“If I plan to work in it, I must be able to beat you in it! The extra preparation can only be a good thing. That, and I can use the same trick on the others if they get overconfident.”

“So you consider being a knight as a job? You could do something else if you got bored of the sword swinging gig?” Jack asked, hand on his chin as he watched the floating knight.

“Of course! There are plenty of things to do back home, but who wouldn’t want to help protect the Queen? It’s not like I cannot retire when I no longer wish to do it.” she paused, looking up at the sky as if searching for an example. “I suppose you do not really have proper communities of ghosts over here, just the stronger sorts or the occasional animal?”

“Nope. We just get the town attacking beasties”

“Ah, well who doesn’t? Troublemakers will be troublemakers.” she shrugged easily, apparently not considering herself a ‘beastie’.

Jack considered the answer, the loud slurping sound rather at odds with the pensive look on his face. Surely he didn’t think this ghost would make up an entire fake backstory, or be perfectly fine with losing to a human in a fair fight while being ‘mindless’. “So the Fentons are known over in your world then?”

“Well I wouldn’t say unknown. The outfits are pretty memorable! Yours more than your son’s. He is your son, I think. That’s the right term?”

Of course she had to bring up his jumpsuit. That he never wore. Because it was on his ghost form. Sam’s wince in sympathy did not help.

“See Danno, even the ghosts think you need more colour! Even Jazz’s is blue, maybe we should get you an orange one.”

“Maybe. Mine’s fine, thanks.” he managed to speak, hoping he didn’t sound too much like he’d been internally choking.

Sam took up damage control before her friend managed to be more suspicious than a wolf in a sheep pen. “Well, I’ve got stuff to do, and Arlas does too. See ya Mr. Fenton.”

The ghost did seem a little put out to not continue to chat, but took Sam’s lead, turning invisible before making her way back home.

“Not even going to try and scare anyone while she’s here huh? Interesting.” Jack commented. “Certainly a lot to think about kiddo! Our little researcher,” he ruffled Danny’s hair, earning a grunt from his son. “You think you might be able to arrange talking to some of these other ‘non-violent’ ghosts?”

“Oh. Yeah. Probably? Not right away, but sure.”

“Great! I want to see for myself if the stories line up. If they do, then we’ll need to figure out why only the blobs and animals showed up before the portal.” he got to his feet, apparently wanting to go write things down in the lab right away.

“Because they were the only ones dumb enough to leave the ghost zone without a portal to go home with.” Danny muttered “The smart ones wouldn’t risk it,”

“Right, you scrawled that on the back of your folder. Which ghost told you that again?”

In truth? Frostbite. Yet he didn’t have a way to explain that. “Phantom.”

“Well you can’t use yourself as a primary source son, that’d be considered speculation.”

Danny could only stare. Whoops.

[sunshine-in-a-bottle]

I'm watching Beast Wars again for no reason and so you all have to hear me talk about it.

If I was personally given Rights I would first use them to erase Cheetors weird crush on Blackarachnia because it literally adds nothing to the plot or the characters. Instead I'd take full advantage of my personal headcanon and make Cheetor desperately want a big sister because I am always a slut for Found Family. Like, that scene with Una ?"Aw, she wants to be you!" Like c'mon viewing him reaching out to Blackarachnia because he desperately wants some semblance of a relationship is a lot more wholesome when it isn't romantically coded. Cheetor is Lonely, so horribly lonely, and so young seeming in comparison to the rest of the cast. He hasn't lost that love for the stars or spiraled into cynicism just yet, and I would much rather explore the ways he tries to reach out to his bitter, jaded teammates. And maybe he's left wanting, maybe he gets tired of being lonely, and maybe he fucks up trying to be like them because "he tried to prove himself." And maybe that scene where Optimus, Silverbolt, and Rattrap reach out to him has a little more weight because it isn’t just Cheetor trying to be an adult, but a Cheetor that tried to be them and post Feral Cheetor has real fucking consequences and isn't just a cool upgrade.

I want that episode where Rattrap finds out they spat on Dinobot’s memory by making him into a "dishonorable" clone and goes ballistic. I want him to find the memories Dinobot stowed away and be conflicted. Is it Dinobot without the spark? Could he live with only a shade? Would Dinobot even want that? I want him to try and fail and be utterly distraught over the whole damn thing. I want him to be angry every time he sees Dinobot 2. I want Rhinox to try and fail to comfort him. I want Cheetor to sit with him, neither speaking but both knowing they're in this fucked up mess together now. CONSEQUENCES. WHERE ARE THEY. GIVE THEM TO ME.

I also just really want Blackarachnia to have closer bonds with the team??? Idk, I'm vibin well enough with her and Silverbolt but tbh I'd really just like her to have an episode where she's hanging out with someone else and Isn’t A Complete Rude Person. I think that's something I actually really vibed with in Beast Machines (although my memory there is still pretty fuzzy, I'll probably have to rewatch that to say for sure) Blackarachnia could actually work with the team in a friendly and occasionally sweet way. She was capable of a blunt and angry sort of kindness. Should that happen right away? Nah of course not, she needs to get comfy with her shiny new Dumbfuck Teammates. But there’s no real Solid Connections there other than Silverbolt, which is purely romantic. (Once again I emphasize Cheetor and Found Family)

Rhinox just needs more in general. If I had to guess the reason he was made a villain in beast machines was because he is only Meh as a Developed character after Blackarachnia shows up and takes over tech wise, not to mention rattrap is also pretty damn techy when he wants to be.(it was also probably to increase tension since his whole deal is being diplomatic but that's a separate thing) Sort of an issue when you make them scientists but don't have them specialize in anything and, more importantly, have a weakness in anything. If your character is simply the backup scientist when the other one is out of commission u gotta problem. Rhinox is stagnant personality wise, I can’t honestly say anything about him changes in the whole series. He has functionally gained nothing from this perilous journey, no real trauma, no bonds he didn't already have with the team, not even an upgrade in form. Isn’t rattrap supposed to be his best friend???? SHOW ME MORE THEN. Seriously if this show had let me have Rights I’m not saying I wouldn’t have loved if we had actually Really Dug In to a character arc or something about Rattrap and the concept of Honor vs Loyalty but that’s exactly what I’m saying lets talk about that. Season One Rattrap they played with this a little (After the whole early on “I would not send someone to do something I would not do myself” and “double agent rattrap” WHICH NO ONE WOULD EVER BELIEVE IF THAT HAPPENED ANY LATER THAN IT DID SINCE RATTRAP IS SO ANTIPRED) and the whole Dinobot thing really wedged it in (”But at least you know where he stands”) AND THEN FROM MY SHODDY MEMORIES OF BEAST MACHINES ITS PLAYED WITH EVEN MORE WHEN HE FUCKING GOES TO MEGATRON BECAUSE EVERYONE WAS BEING A LITTLE BITCH TO HIM 

Where was I going with this? uhhhhhhhhhhhhh oh yeah LISTEN Rattrap and his morals are Very Fascinating and I really wished there was more about that. Like, he gives no shits about Doing What’s Right or Being A Good Person, but he rewards friendship and loyalty and not getting him killed by miles. And despite his Hatefest Dinobot he was actually really... shocked? Offended??? about Dinobot handing over the disc because you’re an asshole but you’re also our asshole what fuckery is this did all our arguments mean nothing to you. And then attempting to join Megatron in BM because he might be Evil and it might be Bad Moral Conduct but fuck morals his teammates were being shitty friends. Is that petty of him? Maybe, but if the maximals had been evil but still genuinely kind and caring towards Rattrap I don’t believe he would ever leave for a second, not for all the Morals or Its The Right Thing To Do in the world. And that’s why darkfics that still use Found Family are the best! The End.

All the characters would actually be the size of their animals because goddamit I want a tiny Rattrap that has to be carried around by the others while he screeches indignantly. Or at the very least make him just a little smaller. Just a bit. And maybe they all have a big Sleep Pile. I like physical affection and cuddling and things no I don't care if they're robots no I don’t take criticism. Dinobot would have feathers fight me.

Optimus has died, been tortured, and painfully grew to like 3 times his size why doesn’t he have ptsd someone give him a hug.

Could we have waited for Airrazor and Tigatron to get kidnapped???? We should have gotten more for them. Let me see them more often. LISTEN THEY’RE VERY CUTE I LOVE THEM SHUT UP. 

WHICH LMAO BRINGS ME RIGHT BACK TO CHEETOR BECAUSE HE CONSIDERED AIRRAZOR AND TIGATRON HIS BROTHER AND SISTER AND HE THINKS THEYRE GONE FOREVER AND THEN ITS NEVER REALLY BROUGHT UP AGAIN LIKE CHEETOR AND FOUND FAMILY REALLY SHOULD BE EXPLORED HERE

Silverbolt is fun, but suffers from the same problem as Blackarachnia where all you really remember about them Relationship wise is the one they have with each other. Who does Silverbolt like best among the maximals, who does he like the least? And if I'm erasing that weird Cheetor crush thing then their interactions probably have a lot less tension so... what else do they have.

Depth Charge is an unrepentant asshole and I love him. He is so hostile but it doesn’t stop him from begrudgingly helping out on occasion. He also gave Optimus some backstory??? Like not as much as my greedy Character Loving hands would have wanted but GIVE ME.

Other Stuff:

Nothing will ever be as funny as Optimus being like “Evacuate the base you’re all gonna die” and Rhinox grabbing his fucking plant

Blackarachnia Craves Power 

Cheetor suffer from Bad Bondage multiple times throughout the series, but specifically during the web I remember Tarantulas leaning over him and thinking “wow this is kind of... date gone wrong vibes??? What the fuck”

Rattrap and Dinobot: *Spot each other from any distance* Miracle Hatemance has entered the chat

Why is Megatron wearing roller skates. Who did this. Why.

“Spider/Bird dog is hetero nonsense” - everyone who has to bear witness to them ever, including me the viewer

Tarantulas is completely done with any attempts to seduce him. Ever.

Airrazor tries so hard to be cool and hip oh my god she is a complete dork i love her

“FOR THE ROYALTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY”

please be nice to Waspinator he’s trying his best

Rhinox: exists

Me: hello yes sir I love u wise mentor sir

Holy shit Dinobot’s death scene is a gut punch. Rattrap honestly is what makes this scene perfect. I have never seen him so respectful or emotional is a way that wasn’t meant for comedic relief.

That scene, man

Tigatron’s speech about bringing beast mode and robot mode together is like foreshadowing to beast machines. Or it isn’t. Idk. Would have been really nice if they, yknow,

bothered to bring up literally anything from the previous series to beast machines

 (yes its been awhile since I’ve seen Beast Machines, but I do remember that being my primary complaint.)

This series is so cheesy but Thundercats is still cheesier so its fine

Rattrap was canonically a miner at some point apparently.

He’s also super prejudiced and honestly that’s interesting. HONESTLY SOMETHING I WOULD HAVE LOVED TO SEE DISCUSSED IN BEAST MACHINES IS THE SUPER MEGA DIVIDE IN PREDS AND MAXIMALS BUT I GUESS WE WEREN’T GETTING THAT OH WELL

The ‘Everyone is blind’ episode was always one of my favorites and it never gets old

Upon rewatching the series I have concluded Cheetor is Babey. Which is weird because I didn’t think much of him from what I remember. Shift in perspective I suppose. They really made Rhinox farting the thing that saves the day, huh. What even was season one.

BITCH THAT IS A TERRIBLE WAY TO TRANSPORT MEGATRON NO WONDER HE FUCKING CONQUERED CYBERTRON Y’ALL DESERVED THIS HONESTLY

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh in conclusion:

Rattrap is my new religion apparently

[moltenhair]

Season 3 minus Gothel

So here’s the deal... I don’t have the energy to finish this complete rewrite. And I don’t know when i will... But I wanted to share what I’d written so far. Or most of it anyway. There’s still a lot I haven’t written- like where the canon Captain of the Guard comes in. I have explanations for everything that isnt featured here I just... Haven’t been able to get around to getting them in writing. 

But here it is! My much talked about new backstory/rewrite for Cass that has absolutely nothing to do with being related to Gothel or even knowing her. Enjoy.

-

It was surreal. Like stepping into a different moment in time. Too real to be a dream. No.. This was a memory. But whose memory was it? And why was Cassandra here?

Olive colored eyes scanned the world around her. The door she’d walked through gone from sight and mind. Something inside her compelling her to drink in her surroundings. The sights, the sounds, the smells. A tiny farmhouse. A barely impressive plot of land but it looked like the owners were getting by. The land had clearly seen better days, the animals and crops were few and the home was crumbling at the foundations. But it radiated warmth and comfort. Cass couldn’t explain it but she was drawn to it. Like it was something she knew once. Like this place was safe.

“Hello, Cassandra.”

Cass turned quickly, her black hair whipping into her face as she looked for the sudden voice. Who was there? No one, at first glance. But then her gaze fell, and standing before her was a small child in a frilly gown. Ethereal in a way and an almost transparent blue.  Like a ghost from another time. It stared up at the lady in waiting with big, shining eyes and a sweet, innocent smile. Tiny gloved hands folded as she waited for Cassandra to speak.

“Who are you?” Cass asked, her brow furrowing suspiciously. This was some magic trick, she knew it. And magic rarely worked in her favor. The ever stinging wound that was her right hand was a constant reminder of that. 

“A friend.” The girl happily replied, walking around her, a bounce in her step that shook the twin buns atop her head. “Or at least I’d like to be.”

Cass watched her walk away toward that farmhouse, only for her to turn and look back. Waiting with an expectant look for Cass to follow. She glanced around before taking that first reluctant step. This was really weird but it didn’t seem like there was anyone else around to talk to. And even if Cass had to follow this child, at least she’d get a closer look at that farm. Find out why she had such a familiar feeling about it.

The two walked together up to the misty glass of the farm house and peered through. It was dimly lit inside. Whoever lived within clearly didn’t have the money for candles and relied on the sun for light. There was movement in the shadows but Cass couldn’t make out what it was. She leaned in, closer to the glass, and squinted to try and see. But that was when she felt small fingers curl around her hand. A gentle touch that drew her gaze away. The child’s smile remained as she pulled Cassandra toward the door. Guiding her through it. Literally. The wood gave no resistance and they passed through it with ease. Like it was nothing but smoke. Even if it looked very real. Something that would have alarmed Cass in any other moment. 

Once they were inside, the woman could get a much better look around. The walls were bare except for some flowers that hung to dry and some shelves stacked with jars and baskets. The fruit of the home owner’s labor. Meager vegetables and preservatives. The air smelled like sweet bread. A rare treat from a distant part of Cassandra’s memory. She couldn’t recall a time she’d eaten it, but she could vividly remember the taste.

“What is this place?” Cassandra asked, taking a few more steps, “It feels so-”

She stopped mid-stride as that moving figure came back into view. A little girl, no older than 4 years old. Smiling brightly with one missing tooth and carrying a handful of fresh flowers. Her hair was long and messy, but those ebony curls and olive eyes were unmistakable.

“Do you recognize that child?” The ghost asked.

“That’s… Me.” Cass all but whispered as she continued to watch the child move about the room. 

“I got some fresh flowers, Mama!” her past self chimed, holding the humble boquet up to an unseen figure behind a closed door. 

Cassandra’s heart leapt into her throat. ‘Mama’? Her mother?

The creaky old door opened and a tired looking woman appeared. Her long brown hair tied up in a messy bun. Loose curls dangling in front of her face.. But despite her clear exhaustion, she smiled tenderly at the child before her. She took the flowers and brought them up to her nose for a long sniff. As if they were the finest flowers she’d ever smelled and not common wildflowers from the neighboring field. The sight pulled at something in Cass that she wasn’t aware she could feel. Or maybe it was something she’d always tried to suppress. 

“These are lovely, Cassandra. Thank you.” She sighed, reaching down to smooth a hand over her daughter’s hair. “These will look very nice on the dinner table tonight. I’ll go fetch some water.”

“Okay!” the little girl scurried out of the way to dive into the kitchen cabinets to find a vase. There weren’t any but she found a wooden cup that worked just as well.

Cass watched, emotions bubbling just beneath the surface as she watched this happy little family go about their lives. Without a care in the world. Her gaze followed her mother. When she came closer Cass could see her mother’s eyes matched her own. But they were tired. Worked to the bone, all alone on the farm. Cass’ father… His absence said everything Cass needed to know about him. Everything she never cared to remember. But her mother… It flooded back. The love she had for Cassandra in her youth. The days slaved so that her child could have a good meal or new clothes. Her mother had worked so hard for her…

“They look happy, don’t they?” The ghost spoke again, her voice almost somber. “You had a wonderful family, the two of you… Didn’t you?”

Watching her mother strain to carry a pail of water back into the house, a small, gentle smile curled Cassandra’s lips. Yeah… They do look happy. They were happy. It wasn’t much… But it was all they needed.

So what happened?

“I don’t understand… If this was my life, why don’t I remember this?”

“We all have things we repress to protect ourselves…” The ghost told her, big eyes turning to her once more. A sadness Cass wasn’t used to seeing directed at herself. “You made yourself forget her so you didn’t have to remember how you lost her.”

Lost? Cassandra’s confusion must have been apparent on her face, because the spirit child continued as if she knew.

                                             “The fire.”

The world shifted suddenly. In a bright flash, like lightning striking where they stood. In the blink of an eye the home around them changed. The roof opened up to reveal a dark, reddened sky. Pillars of smoke reached for the heavens. Red flames licked at the walls and climbed toward the crumbling rafters. Like a great, ravenous beast it devoured the house. The beautiful flowers the little girl picked lost forever to the flames.

Cass looked around to try and find her younger self. Was she trapped? Where was her mother?

“Mama! Mama, where are you?!”

“Cassandra!”

It almost happened too quickly to see. A beam broke free, falling heavily from the roof. Beneath it stood a frightened little girl looking desperately for her mother. It was only with the quickest of reflexes that her mother dove in to save her. Taking the four year old into her arms. Her mother shielded Cassandra with her own body as she ran through the smoke and fire. Her shoulder collided with the front door and broke it free so she and her child could get out. Never flinching at the pain it must have caused, nor letting her ragged coughing slow her down.

The grown Cassandra was in awe. She’d never realized her mother was so brave. 

But they’d gotten out… What happened? Why didn’t her mother stay with her?

Cass followed. The flames passed right through her as she chased. It looked so real but she felt none of the heat. All that mattered was finding the truth. Learning what happened to her mother. Why Cass had ended up alone. How she ended up as the Captain’s daughter. How her life had gone so wrong.

She followed her mother down the dirt road. She watched as her mother looked desperately for a Guard with young Cassandra held tight to her chest. For anyone to help her and her child. Then, in the distance, guards on horseback came into view. Armed with crossbows and riding furiously through the woods. On a mission from the king.

“Sir, please help!” Cassandra’s mother called, running up to one of the men. An older man with white hair and a taller helmet than the rest. The old captain, maybe? Cass couldn’t remember anyone but her dad ever being Captain. “My house. You have to-”

“Ma’am there’s no time!” The man growled, yanking on the reins of his horse to move around the frantic woman, “The princess has been taken and we need every guard to track down the kidnapper. By order of the king!”

Cassandra’s mother’s face paled. Her heartbreak clear as the man just rode away. Leaving a pleading woman and her child standing alone in the darkness… Helpless as their home and livelihood burned to the ground. And Cass felt as gutted as her mother looked. 

She fell to her knees, eyes wide and shining with stinging tears as she watched her home burn beside her mother. How could this happen? How could the king order all of his men away from their posts and leave the rest of his people defenseless? For Rapunzel? For one girl? She was more important than all of his citizens? Didn’t the people who lived in Corona matter too?

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Cassandra.” The ghost murmured, joining her at her side once more. “Do you remember now…? How you lost your mother?”

… Yes… She did.

“She… She had to give me up.” Cassandra croaked, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Without the farm she… Sh-she couldn’t provide for me, s-so-”

“So she left you in an orphanage. In the hopes that someone could give you a better life.” The spirit child added. Cass squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to remember. “But they never could, could they? All your life you’ve had to face that you would never matter as much to them as Rapunzel..”

Bitterness swelled inside Cass, mingling with the pain in her heart. Maybe the fire could have been fought if every last guard hadn’t been looking for Rapunzel. Maybe if the people in charge hadn’t decided that the citizens didn’t matter. All they cared about were their own people. Anyone less than royal was disposable.. They always had been.

“I know it hurts.” The child soothed, resting her small hand upon Cass’ shoulder. “But there is a way you can make that pain go away... To make sure it never happens to anyone else.”

Cass’ eyes opened. Staring ahead to the smoldering remains of her childhood home. The images of herself and her mother were gone. Leaving Cass alone in the smoke and rubble.

                                                 “How?”

A/N delete later: (there is a reason the Captain we know is absent.)

_______

Power surged through Cassandra’s veins. Burning like the fires that destroyed her life and of her passionate hatred. Years of being walked on, cast aside and belittled had all come to this. This moment of sweet catharsis. After twenty years of being passed by in favor of people with “power”, now she would be the one with real power. And a kind of power money couldn’t buy. An authority no birthright could give her. 

THIS was her destiny.

“Cass… I had no idea what happened-”

“Of course you didn’t!” Cass snapped, the moonstone embedded in her breast flashing with violent, angry light. “It never mattered. I never mattered.”

Rapunzel stepped forward, hands raised and eyes pleading. Her hair had stopped glowing the moment Cass seized the opal for herself. Now it hung loose off the bridge they stood upon. Dipping into the darkness below. Behind her Eugene, Lance and Adira looked on in awe and horror. 

“Of course you matter, Cass-! I’m your friend! But this is dangerous! The moonstone-”

“-Is the only way to fix the damage done by people like your father. By people like YOU.” Cass cut her off, clutching the stone tightly. Rapunzel’s eyes widened and she froze in her step. Shocked at the words she was hearing. “I thought when you came back that maybe YOU might change things. That maybe you might actually care what I had to say.”

Black spikes, glowing with blue energy burst from the ground around Cassandra. Illuminating the inky black armor that now consumed her from head to toe. Covering any weakness she may have held.

“But I know now that trying to make your kind listen only leads to pain.” She held up her right hand. The grave injury now concealed behind stony armor. “But no longer...”

“Cass-” 

Rapunzel took another step forward only to be met with a spike jutting out toward her. Her hair illuminated, shining bright and golden as it moved to defend her. The princess flew back at the impact, tumbling painfully against the ground and into Eugene’s arms. He caught her, eyes wide and horrified at what he was witnessing.

“Blondie-! Rapunzel, are you okay?”

Adira jumped into action, placing herself between the princess and “fishskin”. Her shadowblade  drawn. Without a shred of hesitation or fear for her own life she lunged at Cassandra, pinning her back to the black rocks with the flat side of her blade.

“Release the Moonstone, Short Hair. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

Rage flared in Cassanra’s chest, the opal flashing with white-blue light as her glowing eyes narrowed. Still people dared tell her what to do? Still no one would take her seriously?! “No… YOU have no idea what YOU’RE dealing with.”

In a blast of bright light and black stone, Cass threw the other warrior away. Adira’s previously superior size and skill now useless to save her. Her back struck the wall and the air was knocked from her lungs. She collapsed into a slump on the ground. Lance- the clinging fool he was- rushed to her side. Cass didn’t care what he had to say to Adira. None of them mattered now. She took up Adira’s sword, dropped after that pathetic attempt to stop her. A fitting weapon for Cass to shape the world with.

Rapunzel groaned, her hair falling out of her face as her eyes opened. She was hurting in more ways than one and winded… But she was okay. It was Cass she was worried about. As she sat up, Cassandra charged the bridge, running in a sprint. Each step summoning black rocks to guard her. To keep her “friends” from getting too close. But Eugene was on his feet regardless. Ready to stand his ground and square up with one of his best friends. To defend Rapunzel’s honor and possibly the entire world-

But chivalry was cut short as a large black spike shot upwards before him, colliding hard with his body and sending him flying backwards into the wall. The wind knocked from his lungs, he fell to the ground with a groan. Cass didn’t look back as his pained noises reached her ears. She only ran further. Away from her “friends” and onward toward freedom. Everything inside her was twisted and angry. Angry at Rapunzel, at Eugene, at this broken world, at herself. But she couldn’t stop so soon. Not after finally having the tools she needed to do what needed to be done. 

No one would stop her now. No one COULD stop her now. 

[anika-ann]

Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold - Ch.1

Know the Enemy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 1700

Summary: Avenger!reader AU. Part 2 of Melting Hearts series. Part 1 HERE.

Your parents have been taken, parents who didn’t even know you were still alive and playing hero. And now it’s time to negotiate.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of kidnapping, death threat,... crying? Light angst.

Prologue | Story Masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────

Tony barely managed to plug in the phone to his magical tech when the annoying ringtone cut the air again.

You had been sitting on one of the stools in his lab, staring ahead blindly. Instead of a science lair, you saw your parents, family dinners and tiny cute birthday parties in a close circle of the few people who still cared. You saw your dad’s proud smile when you finished high school despite all the odds of your poor health and your mother’s tears on the same occasion, the small diner they took you to after, because you loved it there and you had preferred it to some fancy restaurant.

A squeeze on your hand brought you back to the present and you blinked, looking up to Steve’s face. A shadow of concern was there, but he gave you an encouraging smile. You gulped, eyeing the phone as if it could explode.

“Gonna put in on speaker, sounds good?” Tony hummed, already accepting the call and truly setting it so all of you could hear the caller. Steve’s hand never left yours.

“He-hello?” you spoke up quietly, mentally cursing. Too low. Yet, the person on the other end of the line must have heard you, because he responded.

“Hello, my darling!”

Steve’s grip tightened as the man greeted you cheerfully and Tony quickly started typing sounlessly in order to trace the call. You closed your eyes, the picture of your parents, each tied to a chair and a tape covering their mouths, swimming behind your eyelids.

“What do you want?”

There was a short silence following your question.

“Straight to business, I like that,” the man commented, his voice, immediately burned into your brain like a brand, causing you to sober up. “I wanted you attention.”

“You have it.” You have no idea how much attention you have, you dickbag. Touch them and I swear I’ll rip you open with my teeth.

“Obviously, Snowflake.” You winced, just like Steve, who was trying to keep composed by your side. “I’d like a meeting.”

“Why? Why would you kidnap those people? What-“

“Told ya. Wanted your attention. Gotta admit, your backstory is less interesting then I thought, but the Michaels always had high expectations.”

There was a bitter note behind his words and your lips parted. What the fuck? Was he trying to lead you astray? Or did he really just introduce himself? Both men present with you seemed as surprised as you were – Tony’s eyebrows were up, while Steve’s face darkened. He didn’t like the man revealing himself so easily-- and honestly neither did you.

“Why do you want to meet?”

To kill me?

“Big fan of yours. But with how much fan mail you get, I figured I needed something… bigger.”

You gritted your teeth at the painful pang of anxiety attacking your stomach. Yeah, sure, kidnapping your parents was a bit bigger. How the hell had he figured it out? There was no chance this Michaels didn’t know who you were, no chance of your parents being abducted being a coincidence. Yet, you needed to be sure.

“And you thought kidnapping two innocent people would do?” you strained through your teeth.

Tony gave you a thumbs up and lighted up the big screen – he traced the call. Naturally, it was from Pennsylvania; right at the source.

“Worked, didn’t it? I’m sure your friends already traced the call to the right building, so now nothing stands in the way of our meeting-“ You shot Steve a panicked look – this guy knew very well what he was doing. He must have known how precise the program was, when using the military network combined with Tony’s. How could he know that? “-so why don’t you come tomorrow at 8 a.m.? I would set the meeting earlier, but I tend to be cranky before I have my coffee.”

Steve’s expression was one of furious, veins on his arms ascending as his free hand curled up into a fist. His other forearm was pale; you realized you had been subconsciously tightening your grip on his hand and what was worse, your powers started working on their own, cooling the limb down.

You immediately let go, shocked and horrified. After that, you didn’t think your horror could escalate, but obviously, you were wrong.

“Also, leave your group of merry men and deadly woman home. If you don’t come alone, I’ll know. And if I know, they die.”

Steve shook his head rapidly, his eyes hard and disapproving. Tony was trying to get your attention, waving his hands. ‘Prove of life,’ he mouthed.

You breathed in shakily, closing your eyes. You were out of options. You whole body, every single instinct was screaming at you to tell him to go screw himself, because it was an obvious trap, but you didn’t have a choice.

He had your parents. There was only thing you could do.

“8 a.m. it is. I’ll come. Alone,” you added firmly, ignoring Steve’s hand grabbing your arm and pulling lightly to make you face him.

You opened your eyes slowly, meeting his – they were speaking to you soundlessly, scolding your for even thinking about negotiating with the man and meeting him on your own. You allowed yourself to drown in the sea of outraged blue, surprisingly calming you despite the emotions promising a fight in it. You found yourself strangely relaxed, an insane reaction to this mess.

“But I’m gonna need a non-stop prove of these people being alive.”

Steve’s gaze softened with compassion and you pretended it didn’t do things to you. You fooled no one.

“Obviously. Accept the video feed,” Michaels ordered and Tony clicked on the icon, another big screen lighting up with a face of a man.

JARVIS automatically started the recognition program, while you instinctively started asserting the man. White male in his forties, a bit round face, dark stubble, piercing grey eyes. Two-inch scar above his left eyebrow. It was impossible to guess his built with his body out of the frame.

“And you know, you can cut the game of calling them ‘people’. I know who they are to you,” he exclaimed, one corner of his lips rising.

You swallowed loudly as he disappeared from the frame then, angling the phone and showing you old industrial metallic door. He nudged it with his foot and it opened easily.

You ceased to breathe, your heart stopping as well. Your palm fled to cover your mouth as tears gathered in your eyes.

Here they were; the scene in front of you resembled the photo you had received, so he must have taken it from the very same angle. There wasn’t any change really, but for that you were actually grateful. You parents were still alive and breathing, their scared eyes flashing to the camera for a second before they lowered their gazes to the floor again. Your mother’s shoulders shook, her sobs muffled by the tape over her mouth.

The table you set your fist onto covered in thick layer of ice. You quickly raised it again.

“See, Frostbite? Living and kicking. Let’s keep it this way. You’ll hear from me every half an hour so you know your precious p-“ you held your breath in anticipation. Had he told them? Was he about to tell them now? “-people are still breathing. Can’t wait to meet you, Snowflake.”

And then the line went dead.

You sobbed, folding like a house of cards under a slight breeze. Steve shifted in his position, wrapping his strong arms around you instead of the simple challenging grip on your arm, and you instantly reached for the comfort he was offering. He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Hey, we’ll handle this-“

“Alone,” you whimpered, your voice muffled by his t-shirt. You could feel him shaking his head.

“Not an option. We’ll figure something out. Tony? Who’s this guy?”

“Frederick Michaels. Former employee of… well, me. Stark Industries. MIT graduate, summa cum laude. Just your average IT guy here. Fired a year ago,” Tony informed him swiftly. He didn’t need an encouragement to elaborate. “For harassment. That poor woman had to take a half-year of therapy. Jeez, I wouldn’t be surprised if Pepper had been the one to pack his bag herself. She’s allergic to that stuff.”

You allowed yourself breathe in at the mention of Pepper Potts. That woman was a goddess among men, ultimately badass in a bit different way than Natasha. And you needed to be all kind of badass now. You retreated from Steve’s hug, rising from your stool. Yet, you didn’t quite leave Steve’s personal space, comforted by the heat he was radiating. You eyed Tony.

“Why would he target me?” Why would he target my parents?

“Given his history, I would say it’s your outfit, it’s very tight on the right places-“ Tony hummed, cut off by Steve’s murderous glare, “-but this seems much more complicated than that. Why don’t you chill while everyone else gets here? JARVIS?”

“Already sent an alert to Agents Romanov and Barton as well as Doctor Banner, sir.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, the team working like swish watch. He picked the wrong team to mess with. We’ll deal with that bastard in no time, no worries, Frosty.”

Despite yourself and the air so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife, you smiled.

“Also, get that ice from my table, Elsa. Your manners suck.”

You did as he asked, trying to ignore the anxiety at your powers going haywire – you had other things to worry about now. But you could feel Steve’s worried gaze at the back of your head as your hand hovered over the mess you had made.

He was shaken by that as much as you were, but you never got to talk about it, because Clint entered the laboratory with a yawn.

“What’s up, ki-“ The words died in his throat when he saw the frozen frame of two civilians tied to chairs. “Where’s the fight?” he asked instead and Tony sighed, zooming the map out, replacing the ugly picture.

When the red dot appeared in a town called Snow Shoe, you almost send an icicle through the hologram, really not appreciating the irony.

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 2

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags:  @mermaidxatxheart​, @murdermornings​, @elisaa-shelby​ @ask-hellbent-tweek @cxptain, @kallafrench​

[currentlyreadingmanga]

Toilet-bound Hanako-kun Chapter 14: The 4pm Bookstacks (Part 4)

Previously: a lot happened. A whole lot. We’re finally learning about Hanako’s backstory and boy oh boy was it tough to read. And the worst part is that we’ve barely even scratched the surface of his story and I already was on the verge of tears. And I think this flashback isn’t over yet. So this can only mean good things for my sanity as we go through the rest of the chapters. It’s :) gonna :) be :) just :) great :)

Now onto the next chapter!

I don’t know if I’m emotionally prepared to keep going after the last chapter but my curiosity is also kinda killing so we’re gonna pummel through anyway! 

.................................................. (ಥ﹏ಥ) I’m so sad and it’s only the first page oh boy

It looks like we’re starting right where we left off but it looks like Hanako is employing a tactical move that I like to call “swift and sudden change of subject”. And I get that he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it but sigh I wish he would.

There’s the lunar rock! Oh, that’s interesting. He says that it fell right in front of him when he was about four years old. Tsuchigomori doesn’t really believe it’s an actual lunar rock, but Hanako says that he thought he wouldn’t, but that that won’t change what he believes

...baby boy ♡o(╥﹏╥)o ♥♡ sweet baby boy look at that smile 

BUT more importantly

“We”, you say, huh? Okay, so before when the suspicious green-haired girl said “is yours like that, too?” I had asked a lot of questions since that comment had opened various possibilities. The main theories I had at the time was that maybe if more than one person summoned Hanako, then maybe different versions could appear or even that it could have been the same Hanako but acting differently depending on the person who called upon him. And this “we” comment could still point to something similar, maybe hinting that he has multiple personalities. But it also makes me think of another answer that I can’t believe it didn’t cross my mind earlier: could it be that he has a brother? Would that even work? Like, it would mean that his brother has to be dead too, right? So idk, maybe it wouldn’t be possible, But they keep hinting at this idea that there’s “another Hanako”, so I think I should keep various options on the table just case.

....................baby boy

I’m sorry for gushing so much but he just looks so excited about his rock and the moon I :(((( I’m very torn because he’s adorable but he’s also covered in bruises and cuts and I just want him to be safe even though this is the past and nothing can be done now

Also! The fact that he said that this rock is his prized possession and now it is Tsuchigomori’s yorishiro (aka the object with the strongest emotional connection he has in his possession) says a lot about their relationship, huh? He really must care a lot about Hanako, much more than he lets on.

But yeah, Tsuchigomori wants to go back to the important subject at hand but once again Hanako uses “swift and sudden change of subject” and it’s super effective! It’s really taking all of my self-control not to post every panel with smiling Hanako here, he’s too precious, hel p. It seems like he really likes the moon and probably space in general and that’s really cute

o h

The way my heart just sank oh my fucking go d child please get away from the window Tsuchigomori please get him away from there

(;;⚆ _ ⚆ )  Tsuchigomori pl e  a se get him down from there before I have a heart attack

Oh okay, he’s back, mostly, kinda. He’s still on the window sill, though, and it’s giving me anxiety. I really need him to step back inside the room. God, I would have panicked just as much as Tsuchigomori right there jfc

Okay so, after slapping Tsuchigomori’s hand away when he tried to help him (which, hello, physical manifestation of his own unwillingness to get help), Hanako mentions how Tsuchigomori has said before that he’s worried about him and that he wants to help, and the teacher confirms that yes, that’s the case

..............................god, I think I kept mentioning it last chapter too, but there’s something so powerful about the way Hanako was drawn in these last two chapters. He’s clearly the same character we have come to know, but there’s such vulnerability and humanity in the way he’s portrayed that it really tugs at your heartstrings. He looks so small and vulnerable, just like the child he is. A child that has seen and experienced too much but who still smiles to not worry those around him.

Ah, speaking of which

;u;

So yeah, here’s where he gives Tsuchigomori the rock. And the latter is surprised to be receiving it since Hanako did say that this was his most prized possession. Hanako says that whenever he looks at it, he fees as if he could go anywhere..........okay, that just brings up more questions, because why would he give away something that gives him hope?

..................oh. Oh no, I don’t like the implications right here, no sir

...........................................fuck. I really really don’t want my hunch to be right but. this really implies that he could have decided to end his own life. Because then he wouldn’t need his rock, not if he was bent on “not going anywhere”. And he’s saying it with a smile too what does that mean ...........I..........okay, let’s keep reading

It looks like the memory is over and we’re back to Yashiro and Tsuchigomori in the nurse's office. Wow, it’s night already, this whole ordeal really took quite a while.

Tsuchigomori confirms that what Yashiro saw where indeed the memories housed inside the yorishiro and oh! That’s right! That means that Hanako was the only person to have successfully changed their future, at least according to Tsuchigomori. How exactly did he change it would be the question to ask now. 

Tsuchigomori starts to talk about the significance the moon landing had on society at the time since before that “going to the moon” was just another unattainable dream that only existed in people’s imaginations. But then it became reality and the world was full of hope because it opens the door to dreams that before seemed so unattainable now seemed possible. And how, among this cheerful climate, there was one boy who at that moment decided he wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Then he mentions that, as his teacher, he was worried about him, or so he pretended to be. Ah, okay. he says he “pretended” because he had already read his book, so even if he kept asking Hanako to tell him what was happening to him, he already knew. Hmmm, he says that he’s just “a supernatural pretending to be human” and that’s why he didn’t think much of it, but I honestly don’t think he would have been so indifferent if the book said that Hanako was gonna die soon (I’m assuming that conversation we saw wasn’t too much earlier in Hanako’s life since he didn’t look that much younger and the classroom sign said “2-2″ so he probably was in junior high? I think). So maybe the way his future change really was with him dying. Did Hanako die before he was supposed to?

oh

Oh, that’s.........that’s heartbreaking. He really did die too soon, way too soon. Fucking hell, that’s not what I expected at all. Like, when Tsuchigomori first mentioned that one person had been able to change their future, I had imagined that it would be a positive change, you know? Because usually, those type of scenarios play out with the person avoiding a bad situation that would be detrimental to their future. But it seems like here it’s the opposite.

Also, just imagine being in Tsuchigomori’s shoes in this situation. Like, you’re worried about the kid but then you find out that he's gonna be okay: he'll become a teacher after he delves into what he's passionate about. So you relax a bit, since what’s been written in the books never changes. But then, one day, suddenly and unexpectedly, that boy dies, that same boy who smiled at you and seemed to have such a bright future ahead of him. His life was cut short and now he's another being that haunts the school you work at. And you tell yourself that there was nothing you could have done since the future had never changed before, but a part of you whispers the "what ifs" every time you see his face on the hallways and it’s just. again, I repeat: heartbreaking.

;u; look at this good man. He really is a softie on the inside.

Oh dear, it looks like she’s really shaken up. Can’t say I blame her, that’s a lot of heavy information to digest in one go.

Awwww and of course, there are Kou and Hanako barging into her room, because these loud boys are loud. Also, Kou should know by this point that Hanako doesn’t have any regard for personal space with anyone so, yeah, it’s kind of a lost cause lol

Oh, sweetie...The whole ordeal was really emotionally taxing on her. Like she says there, we all knew that he was a ghost from the start but learning about his life makes us face the fact that he’s also alive at one point. He was around Kou and Nene’s age when he died. Again, we knew that deep down, but now the fact that his future was cut short is impossible to ignore. That’s the reality of the situation and Yashiro has a lot to think about after this. She’s still only, what, fifteen? and it is a heavy burden to deal with.

Oh? He probably notices that something is off by her reaction? Does he know what she saw when she destroyed the yorishiro?

Okay, so he goes to confront Tsuchigomori about it

Hmmm, so yeah, like I thought at the beginning of this arc: he’s probably not ready to actually share the details of his life with her yet. And honestly, after the last two chapters, I see where he’s coming from because this is a lot to unpack.

........oH

(ಥ﹏ಥ)

(TдT)(TдT)(TдT)

[worldcakecakecake]

The Red Mask

In 18th century Valencia, Spain, thrives the legend of the Red Mask, a character with stories of bravery and heroism that have enchanted Lovino Valenti since he was a young child. On a new business deal, his family moves from Naples and Lovino finds himself wishing for adventure and action away from his duties in this new Spanish city. He is given that chance when he joins a group of masked heroes that fall under the command of the famed Red Mask. He grows a close and fiery relationship with the masked man of his tales and dreams, and without knowing his identity, he lets himself be swayed by his seduction, trust and daringness, to passions surely forbidden when he doesn’t even know his actual name or who he really is.

Wow, what a surprise, posting a new story…and it’s not gerita! (There will be gerita though, of course!) Yes! Hello! This is my true entrance into the spamano world! A pairing that is easily one of my favorites in the fandom. I always write about it to the side of my stories, but now they get the chance to shine in their own. This story in my mind has been quite exciting and I can’t wait to for you to join me in this new adventure as I write and put it up. Part of it was actually writing in Spain and my experience there helped to fuel it. Despite it being set so in the past, let me say that once again, the research I did was little and many things can be very inaccurate. If it offends or annoys you, I am extremely sorry. I am willing to listen and change, so please message if I can fix something to better represent the times.

This story will be slightly different in the aspect that there will be some more darker themes. Hopefully they won’t be too intense. I still like to keep things light and bright. I will give the appropriate warnings in the notes before each chapter.

Speaking of warnings, this story has a draft page where pretty much two or three more chapters are done. I have this rule that once this document reaches 20k words, I start posting. Once it’s all posted, the story will have to go on a hiatus until I fill it up to 20k again. In the past, stories done in this form, I would have an exact schedule as to when I would post, but since I am extremely busy and sometimes just editing might take me several weeks, I cannot assure a specific time to post. I will simply post once I finish editing the next coming chapters. I apologize already for the time it will take. But be assured! I will post! I will write and edit when I can and the chapters will come EVENTUALLY!

As for the length of this story…I’m estimating perhaps 70-80k, but we’ll see as the story goes along. Yes, it will be deliciously long.

 As for the beginning, I will be posting prologues that detail the backstory of how ‘The Red Mask’ started, so no, sadly, no delicious spamano interaction…for now ;) 

 Warning that there is mention of rape in this chapter.

                                                                Prolouge I

No games, no toys, no dim candle light, no stories, no warm embrace, no soothing lulling voice taking him to sleep. He couldn’t let himself that old luxury when he had to watch, to see hidden between the dark shadows of the mansion already succumbed into the late night. Not a stirring, not a presence, the only one being the exchange in the room the little boy was currently watching from afar. The door was only slightly ajar, bringing a small streak of light to the hall, reminding of the actions, of business still needed to be done. From this distance, the boy could hear but only small mummers, unclear, lost, a brightening that he dared to reach by taking easy steps forward, down the stairs, down the halls, until it could be easy enough for his small hands to create a disrupting shadow into the singular ray of light. He leaned whatever he could to spot clear the figure of a woman, one with his same dark brown curls, the same shine of his green eyes, even the shape of his nose and mouth. She stood proudly before the male she was talking to, nothing wrong with her servant uniform, the proud red sash wrapped around her neck proudly, bearing her expression of obedience and loyalty to the words of this man.

 “-the windows, the doors, watered the flowers of the entrance,” he tested.

 “Yes sir,” she nodded.

 “The laundry, the chickens, the baths, the pathways, the grass,” he kept on.

 “Completed.” Nothing in her figure showed the opposite, her uniform doing well to hide the bruises, the dirt, the labor.  

 “Very well then, and are you aware of your duties for tomorrow?”

 The little boy could feel the strain for his mother.

 “The tapestries, reorganize the vases, fix the pillars, care for the flowers of the garden, prepare the letters for the next ball and waiting at dinner for your important visit,” she assured, she knew, she was already preparing herself for the pain, strains and tiring energy that would leave her faint once she reached back to her bed…if she ever did.

 “Perfect. You never disappointment me, Ms. Carriedo.” The movement of a chair, steps, closing in, a sign that was enough to bring the little boy to dread, trying hard to hide his groan and the new coming tears.

 A hand closing in, on the buttoning of her uniform, a closeness to the red sash on her neck. A harsh grasp, hers, on his wrist, holding anymore touches to the prized fabric.

 “Don’t touch it,” she warned harshly, always strength to be disobedient when it came to it, despite the glares, despite the slap, the kick, her fall, her hands coming to protect it in the palm of her hands.

 “I’ll touch whatever I wish to. Have you forgotten that I own you, that you’re purpose here is for my pleasing?” He kneeled to her, testing her yet again, trying to grasp that red handkerchief and yet she kept it close, tight, no color to show him, no softness, no walls to the castle this item brought her. She enclosed herself around it how she could, even if she had to look away, if she had to anger him, if it brought her other kicks and even spits.

 “Very well, once again I have to remind you.” A throw, a push, a pull, an unbuckling, the little boy couldn’t take it any longer, not caring if his steps and labored breaths could be heard as he hurried up the stairs, down the halls, to their room, crashing into the safeguard of their bed, by the window, showing a beautiful starry night that his mother could have used for the beginning of a new tale. Tonight they didn’t hold that escape, that relief as they always did, their stories of adventure and heroism weren’t loud enough, didn’t extend a hand to dry the tears that fell down his cheek, coating the pillow he wished could sunk him down to the worlds of knights, faithful lovers and adventures away from the pains of this mansion.

 Somehow he found rest with such a storm lingering, yet weak, for when he heard her entering, the crash of the door, he startled himself immediately, to meet her as weakened as she usually came into the room, with ripped clothing, new bruises, new blood, new tears and her figure slumping slightly more. When her eyes fell on those of her son, of her same green, she managed to pull a smile as if all that was surrounding her didn’t hold the same potency anymore.

 “Antonio,” she wiped what she could in an easy rub of her hands. “What are you doing awake, querido? Come on, let’s go to sleep,” she managed to insist, to prepare their bed as she usually did, patted, warm and with the best fabric that she was given.

 As Antonio sat on that spot, waiting for her join, she changed into her night dress, the only item kept being the red handkerchief, still safe, still untouched by the devils who owned this place. She joined her little son, the red handkerchief like another pillow to rest between them, Antonio hugging it, as well as his mother with all the tightness and love they have poured over his life of only five years. She brought him close to her chest, her hands threading through his brown locks, enough to forget, enough to smile and for once find calm for a coming rest.

 “Do you still want to hear a story?” She suggested, knowing how eagerly Antonio would nod even in his tiredness, even after what he saw, but nothing could beat the tales, nothing could beat this chance of adventure and difference.

 “What would you prefer? The story of the Viking archer? Or of the skilled sword handling Spaniard with the red mask?”

 “The red mask one!” How he loved it.

 She chuckled, “very well then.”

 And there she went, the feat of tonight being how he saved the damsel from her wicked father who had caused calamity in the city, in amazing detailed fights that only his mother could alight in just the right action to bring suspense to the little boy. In the end, he saved the woman he made his lover and settled off into a sunset of promise, just the right touch to end a proper night with proper dreams.

  He shouted, he jumped, he slashed his old metal sword all around the fabrics that swayed in the new air, weakened movements that made his mother laugh from the distance as she hanged all the sheets around the wires for their drying.

 “Antonio! Remember your stance! Stance!” She reminded and Antonio made sure to keep it to consideration as he went on with his practicing, yet it still failed, he still missed movements and twirls that would make him trip or even let his old trusty sword fall.

 She had to step in and help.

 “Antonio, come, look at me.” She picked up her own sword from the pile her son had brought along with the basket of sheets. It was much glorious, shinning, with an artistic handle that had Antonio aweing instead of fearing. She skillfully moved the sword around her, for grace and for battle, Antonio spectating with shine and admiration.

 She presented the point of the sword before him, inches from his nose, his eyes hypnotized by the reflection of the sun on it, then her proud smile.

 “What did I say?” She chuckled.

 Antonio laughed as he brought his own sword, taking her very same stance, the old ruin thing he used as his weapon taking the very same levelling forward.

 “Very well, again, look at me and repeat.”

 She moved and he followed. Her footwork, her spins, her slashes, hearing her advices, her tricks, her teachings until he was ready for a practiced combat. With shouts, with meets that resounded well across the field and hill they fought, the woman saw that her son had bettered in his defense, in the proper holdings, not for a single moment letting his sword fall, slowly growing harsher stabs that actually made her worry that she would lose sight of as she taught. Luckily, she defended well herself and could take whatever forwards, whatever sudden surprises that made her prideful.

 Only seven years old and her son was the sword prodigy she had once been herself.

 Any smiles, any laughs, any learning was harshly interrupted by shouts, of many men, of coming footsteps that they both knew they had to stop at before it came any closer. They hid the swords at the bottom of the basket, the woman placing a protective cover to keep it more hidden, busying herself instead with the hanging as if it had been her sole duty for the whole day. Antonio sat by the hill and pretended to distract himself with a patch of blooming daisies, his eyes catching the commotion that had interrupted their moment.

 It was Mr. Montaje, the owner of the mansion his mother worked for, the hated man that made Antonio grasp harshly to the ground he sat upon, that brought shivers up his mother’s spine, trying to focus on only the sheets swaying before her, on their softness, on their colors, nothing, nothing else.

 “The routine was well explained, I have no need to repeat myself,” he shouted to all the men that followed behind him, all appropriately dressed in their white gears, paddings and swords hanging in their gloved hands, as straight, as strained as they pretended on acting like the statues that decorated the gardens.

 The only two allowed freedom was Mr. Montaje, who walked through every file, inspecting, while also strutting his own uniform, his power, command, even joy to take control of this group of men. The other was Keron Montaje, his oldest son, the heir, a boy of pale features but with intense dark hair, eyes and even personality, with the very cockiness his father wore. Only ten years old and he was already commanding, shouting and even hitting some of the men as he tested their perseverance to remain still as they were. Mr. Montaje laughed as if it was some childish game, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close to utter words of pride that only gave more bounce to the boy to continue as he wanted. Antonio glared, with memories of pushes, of laughs, of points and misery. All he could do was accept this field of tyranny that was his household.

 How unfair, how underserving.

 Keron took a frontal position, before all the men, as he considered himself to be, above whatever importance they might think they have. His father led, raising his own sword, shouting commands and thus every pair was formed, even Keron finding his partner and instantly all began their combat, their training, a show for Antonio to spectate. For their cruelty, him and his mother admitted that they did have impressive knowledge in the sport, to what they could add, to what they could learn from, watching and later in the night finding time to practice these very new techniques.

  Even at twelve years old, Antonio would find his time for that hill, for the continuing practices that happened before him, already calculating and omitting attacks on his mind as it went on.

 Keron had improved, his slashes harsh, unmerciful, it was common occurrence for him to draw blood out of his opponents, continuing on without a care of their shouts, strains and cries for care. Joaquina was in charge of dealing with their treatment and bandaging, as always, hiding her complains, ignorant to their demands as she tried her best.

 The household finding Antonio old enough, by now had forced him into the scheduling and working, but the young boy, no matter what the papers said, always stood by his mother’s side, to lessen whatever new loads Mr. Montaje placed newly on his mother.

 Every night, every escapade into their room, still ended with her having the same bruises, the same rip of her clothes, the same destroy in her eyes that Antonio tried to smooth away with his embraces and the kisses he laid on her head.

 As the years continued, Antonio feared it wasn’t working its relieve, his mother only continued to arrive worst, a spark dying each day that only Antonio resurrected with stories and with their occasional sword practice.

 On his laundry work, Antonio fifteen by this time, he caught the excitement about a swordsmanship tournament, the household calling Keron the sure championship to bring honor to the family, a sureness that he already strutted the halls with, as if he had already gotten his prize. It annoyed Antonio immensely, new furies igniting as he folded the fine pristine shirts of the members of this family, thinking that they were all underserving of this forced treatment he had to give them, all because of a stupid family accord that forced him and his mother there. If only they had-…a pamphlet then fell on the basket, announcing the very tournament the entire household was talking about. It listed the tournaments’ name, how it was one of the region’s most prestige competitions, approved by the very King and Queen of Spain, inviting all to participate, going on with all different kinds of honors, badges and seals that could be given to the winner, including an incredible price of two thousand reales. He took it, he ran over to his mother, exciting her in the prospect.

 “No,” she instantly denied, putting the pamphlet away.

 “But you’d easily win!”

 “Your belief in me is endearing, Antonio, but I cannot possibly risk ourselves by going against Mr. Montaje like this.”

 “But it says that everyone can participate. He has to let you!”

 “And risk us getting scolded, or worst, killed? He still has that power over us.”

 “Exactly, so you have to prove to him that he doesn’t, by showing that you’re better than whatever second hand swordsman he has here.” Antonio was confident, mad of such doubts, that these spoiled brats could get away with such honors ignorant of those who truly deserved it, chained to their shadows and meaning to forget them from whatever freedom and chances they could be granted.

 “With this money, we could leave this mansion once and for all!”

 “Even if I wanted to, he doesn’t let me out of the gates of the land, much less to participate on a tournament that can set me free from him as well as embarrass his family if I do manage to get far. How do you expect me to do this?” She seemed to challenge and oh was Antonio glad to take it. He grinned as his head went clearly through her tales, especially one of a figure which famously donned a red mask. He could picture the fabric on her face, along with a beautiful red uniform to go along with the moves that would surely prove regal than whatever master would fight there.

 “You don’t have to go as yourself,” he began to suggest, easing the idea. Joaquina raised an eye, questioning, following her son’s eyes to their treasured red fabric on their shared desk.

 It said enough, it detailed and seemed to tell the tales aloud for both to hear.

 “Are you saying…?”

 “Yes!” Antonio excited and to his surprise his mother returned the suggestion with a grin, a wink and thus that moment an idea began to take life.

  It was more crowded than both had expected, a center ring presented surrounded with groups of all kinds witnessing and spectating the battles. They shouted, they made clear either their distaste or wonder, seeing as many lost or as others came victorious, moving ahead in the chart that the committee had presented for all to see. Antonio, well covered by a darkened cloak his mother gave him, joined along in those jumps and screams, pointing out quite honestly those he liked…other than his mother.

 It was the last of the first round matches, many quite excited over a mysterious player that was to join, whispers already arising and Antonio smirking.

 Santiago Villalobos was called to fight, entering the arena with the usual cockiness all players took, raising his sword and earning a new roar from all. The noise was much that it did well to dull out the new participant’s entrance, just taking its own welcome into the stage, its interesting robes of black and red, the red mask that covered the top of its face tight, letting green eyes glow and elegant lips shine, enough of a capture for everyone to fall silent. That cocky smile, different, endearing to Antonio, for once one making him go along in these new shouts and screams, convinced in the easy shine this person made their sword rise, seeming to fly high and claim already the brightest star.

 Battle started at the moment the competitors’ eyes met, quick to let their swords meet in a loud clang that announced well to all, their dangerous dance starting of evasion, attack, jumps, even swirls, every moment a delight to all their eyes. To the masked contestant, this was simple, it saw victory as soon as their swords met and like that it was given, the other’s sword flying off into the crowd, enough proclaim for the masked swordsman to win.

 The crowd erupted so loud Antonio feared they would tumble the arena down.

 As the tournament continued, as the masked player kept enamoring them all with their amazing skills, known steps, defenses, fast and graceful movements to seem like a flight, people just jumped and shrilled the more, truly ready to crush the stage with pure excitement.

  All her competitors were wiped out from the tournament listing quick and sure, as easy as simply throwing their names away and watching the mysterious competitor rise and rise until she reached a final with only but the strongest of her enemies, Keron Montaje.

 When both their names were announced unto the stage, a thread of suspense easily hanged above the crowd, even the stage, especially to Antonio, who feared the teenager could recognize his mother if even just by the little skin she showed, her eyes, her movements, or just her voice. He was surely dramatizing, he and his mother did well to try and hide anything that could make her obvious. Besides, none of the Montaje had ever fought with them, they wouldn’t recognize even the skills that were so obviously Carriedo.

 As the judges prepared to announce what would be the last battle of the tournament, Keron and Joaquina settled in sending vengeance through their eyes, angering, pestering, anxious to start. Keron simply wanted the fame, to prove himself better before everyone, especially his family, and he was not going to let someone that wouldn’t even reveal his name or face to the crowds or himself that victory. To Joaquina, this was her chance on getting her name, a position away from the mansion, for honor, the best for her son and against years of being looked down on, abused and being stripped of her person.

 As soon as bells announced, along with shouts of the crowd, Joaquina was the first to strike and Keron was vigilant enough to defend against that rather strong blow that made him loose his balance, close from tripping to the sea of people. Quickly he tried a deadly slash to her face but she did well in defending through all the attacks that remained upwards, barely depending on their stance. It was forgotten, and so it was easy for Joaquina to find a moment of distraction to simply trip him by a mere slash of his leg, which had him on the ground, surprised and cringing. Impressive downward slashes continued and from the ground Keron still managed to defend against them, but it was becoming harder, the slashes so intense that he felt he was being buried into the stage. He managed a push and tried to get them back to the focus of upper attacks, but Joaquina moved by a mere inch, pushing him easily down and with an incredible dance of her sword, had Keron’s sword flying to the floor, momentarily trembling before it defeated itself by falling out of the stage. It was the decision that proclaimed the masked stranger the winner of the tournament. The crowd raged their unbelievable excitement, and Antonio couldn’t stop jumping and screaming along. The masked contestant raised her sword in thanks to their admirations and to acclaiming her triumph, with an ultimate pride that even made Antonio shine in the hiding of this mass approval.

  Even after her winning, the Red Mask never revealed themselves, which many were expecting. She simply headed to the judges to get her honors, money, looked for a young boy companion and headed off without a hint to where she was going. The event was well talked through the near towns, villages, word had even reached Madrid, much to the embarrassment of Old Montaje. The only bliss Joaquina and Antonio had received in the mansion was the constant scolds he would send his older son, his disappointments, using every sign, every chance to talk about his failure in the tournament and how he showed his disgrace to the family with a loss against someone who wouldn’t even dare show his real face. The Carriedo couldn’t hold their smiles, one time old Montaje noticing and sending them quite an angered shout that had them wary from doing it then on.

 They had to continue their usual farce, their preparations to leave silent, along with finding their contacts, their place of run away. His mother spoke of Valencia, her birthplace, her family, a place she was known and was sure could get them a new home easy. She managed the writings of a Patricio Gaspar, a friar who knew her from childhood and already offered her and her son refuge and protection.

 “Why didn’t you get us somewhere closer…like…Salamanca?” Antonio suggested one night after his mother had finished explaining well their plan of escape, to take action in a fortnight, their route and their stops, heavy, long, arduous and titanic. Antonio would sometimes remain awake truly wondering if they could make it to Valencia intact.

 “I didn’t know anything else but Valencia, hijo. Besides, they could have easily found us if we chose a closer city. I doubt Old Montaje would head to the other side of Spain just to find me.”

 “He’s always been really impatient when it comes to you, mamá. What if he still reaches us?” He feared.

 “Then this time we’ll fight,” she picked her sword from the cloth she had wrapped it well in for their travel of haste.

 This time she will defend well this chance of freedom.

  They had worked that day like they always did, yet silent, obedient, barely any words to other servants who they had small acquaintances with. By the last duties of the day, the mansion in dark silence, they got their things, sacks for each to hang over their backs and headed out through the floors and doors they knew wouldn’t cringe under their steps and push. They were out into the lands, through an old abandoned fence that Antonio had made an opening while others thought he was simply cleaning this area. Undetected, not a single guard noticing, they camouflaged with the shadows, avoiding light, other eyes or any of the more main roads. They took a hidden walked route through the forest and hills, one Joaquina was sure of, she knew and read. It would be hard but she was positive of arriving to the next town safe. They kept an arduous track during the night, finding only momentary rest at its darkest, short, to awaken at the early rays of sun and continue their walk.

 About half way, they met with a kind farmer who was heading to Astorga as they were and thus they hitched a ride on his carriage. They made a good friend of this man in their ride and were rather sad at wishing their goodbyes once they arrived. Joaquina paid for an inn to keep them for the least of two days, just to rest, regain energy, stock, prepare and try to settle as much as they could in the town as to not arise suspicion. Joaquina had met with the man who had given their ride and sometimes they spoke, admitting to him even of her and her son’s goal to reach Valencia. After an evening of a well spent together dinner, the poor man had been mugged and the thieves had run away with a high percentage of reals that the he had depended on. Antonio couldn’t stand it and was willing to go after them to get it back…just as Joaquina did.

 That night, she bore the mask, her capes, tunics, pants and boots and hunted for them in revenge. All the missing reals were returned to the man mysteriously, just as his new friends had fled in the dark early hours, with course to La Bañeza.

 When Joaquina and Antonio had arrived, the town was in the midst of a festival. It was active, it was full, it was easier to loose anybody who might come after them, but even crime was alive and no such joys was enough to stop it.

 Joaquina and Antonio had seen it all occur by the balcony of their inn, a gang disturbing peace by trying to kidnap a group of children. The wails of the families were too much to bear, so Joaquina took action. It was not a simple entrance, everyone noticed the deep red, how every fabric seemed to fly heightening the figure’s presence and stature, how so elegantly the figure moved, battling, fighting, capturing all the men, tied well for the authorities to imprison and for the children to run to their family’s arms in safety. They couldn’t risk it, they had to continue to run, this time to Benavente. There they saved an infant child from getting kidnapped in her own baptism. Of course, the crowds shrilled and celebrated, stories were told, they had to run, but it didn’t stop the word from spreading.

 In Villalpando they freed innocent captives from a soon hanging. When they thought they could have rest in Medina del Campo, they found themselves catching a mystery thief of the night. In Arévalo they stopped an entire gang that was terrorizing the town and had brought what the inhabitants called a time of peace.

 Finally, finally, finally, they had arrived to Madrid, for the first time seeing the magnitude of a city, beautiful, with large crowds to loose themselves between, so much going on and they could forget, they could finally have that rest they wanted. Confident they decided on remaining for a week, the action of the city they thought the police could deal with. Ignore it, they had to repeat to themselves as they dealt with a routine wanting to seem as normal and belonging as possible. It was hard, but with the time it had taken them to get there, knowing that surely the Montaje knew they had escaped by now, who knows if they had sent anybody, if they had reached Madrid with better speeds. They were weary, suspicious of every single gaze, any blackened robes or white seals having them running and panicking back in their inn.

 “We’re safe, it’s impossible for them to have reached us like this,” Antonio would try to lighten, enough to have his mother breathe and settle for whatever dinner they could manage.

 But that peace could not be held for long. Antonio had spotted them, this time the black and white one he knew, sure, unmistakable, he had to run and bring the dreadful news to his mother. She panicked, a crying figure of weakness that they both thought they had forgotten.

 “We’ll run,” Antonio had decided for them and so they packed quickly like they had used to in their journey. Joaquina managed to find and pay for a carriage that was heading to Tarancón, she and her son early for the appointment, their nervousness shown in the way they couldn’t stand still, couldn’t keep their eyes from wandering and wouldn’t dare let go of any of their bags.

 Yet even in this state they could not ignore a cry for help, could not just stand and let the wrong continue. This time it was a woman who was fighting off kidnappers, the famed Red Mask coming to the usual rescue that caught the big attention of the city, one that not even the scouting Montaje could ignore. Of course they recognized the masked hero that had beaten their young heir and it was a watch they tried to keep, forgetting their original goal of capturing the escaping Fernandez. Joaquina and Antonio had ended up missing their carriage in the saving, settling instead with running despite their fatigue and weakening bodies. They arrived to Tarancón sick, Joaquina especially, who had to be bedded and Antonio had to try his best by himself caring for her and trying to find any kind of medicine to help.

 Little did they know that their tracks were now targeted and hunted, little did they know of the Montaje presence in the town, of their plans of attack, of ending a too long a nuisance.

                                                                                                     Prolouge II >

[umbrahighpriestofgiratina]

Heroes After All Chapter 8

Anyway I was able to motor it and produce Chapter 8! This one is BACKSTORY HO, plus some new peeps: Chapter 8: Stories It had been a few weeks since Polly was attacked. The other Aura Guardians had organized squads to find the perpetrator. There was no luck. Polly herself was fine. Fine. She'd dealt with worse. She was idly sipping some tea, Metagross and Dunsparce by her side, when Carol and Lovegood approached. ~Are you OK dear?~ said Carol. "Don't call me dear. And I'm fine." "~Well you've been kind of... sulking.~ "It's because our potential culprit to those murders was literally right in my face and we still haven't gotten any further than that!" ~Polly, calm down,~ said Metagross. Dunsparce hissed worriedly. "I'm fine," said Polly. ~No you're not,~ said Carol. ~Come on, hang out with the rest of us. It's staff luncheon day!~ Lovegood nodded. ~Socialization may help with aggravated mental states, depending on the person.~ "Hrm. Fine." said Polly. She got up, and she and her Pokemon followed Carol and Lovegood out. ------------ There was a party going on at least. With refreshments - double good. Even so Polly wasn't feeling particularly up to socializing with anyone other than the food. Regardless Carol approached her. ~How's it going?~ "Okay." ~That doesn't sound convincing.~ "It wasn't meant to be." Carol gave a telepathic sigh and sat down next to Polly. ~Look, I know you're frustrated about the lack of leads. But don't beat yourself up. We've been through worse. Way worse. Remember how I lost my voice?~ "...Yes. You were born to a noble house. A rival lord's Pangoro beat you. You survived, but lost your voice and much of your hearing and your family disowned you for it. You've had a hatred for the rich since." ~Well I hate them for a lot of reasons! That was just the catalyst. Point is, I've been through shit, you've been through shit... together some murder mystery is no big deal.~ "Alright, thanks." Polly sighed. "I... I miss Eliot. And Sir Donovan." ~We all do.~ "This is kind of getting depressing for party conversation." ~Agreed. Let's go find someone else.~ The two got up and started looking around the party - as well as sampling food - before they found Vince. ~Vince! Hey!~ said Carol. "How are you doing?" said Polly. "...What do you two want?" said Vince. "Someone better to talk to than each other." ~It's better in threes, you know.~ Carol winked. Vince winced. "No thanks." "What, are you too good for us?" said Polly. "N-No. I mean yes. I mean gah." Carol telepathically snickered. Vince sighed. "Honestly I wish I was too good for you guys. But I know I'm not." Polly raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" "I've been put down all my life," said Vince. ~Is this about the "terrible wizard" thing?~ "No. Or at least. Your little nickname isn't the worst of it." "I think I know what you're getting at." said Polly. "Didn't your parents try to keep you away from the outside world because you were an Obscuric?" "Not even because that," said Vince. "Because I wasn't even a very good Obscuric. Even after I finally ran away and found the monastery it took years for me to get to where I am today. And in the meantime... everyone picked on me. Except you two. And... I still don't feel like I'm good enough." ~Ah, yes, I remember now...~ said Carol. "I feel sorry for that Aaron kid," said Vince. "He was in the same boat I was." "I've been keeping an eye on him," said Polly. "So has Metagross." "That's good." "Guys! Guys! Hey!" said another voice. "Not her," whispered Vince under his breath. A redheaded woman with a red, white and pink uniform approached the three. "Whatcha guys talking about?" ~Our lives, Hannah,~ said Carol. ~It involves lots of suffering. Join us.~ "Ooh, uh, well, I stubbed my toe earlier if you're talking about suffering!" Vince rolled his eyes. "You guys should probably cheer yourselves up!" said Hannah. "Have you seen any cute Pokemon around?" "My Dunsparce is probably hiding from you again," said Polly. "Aww, too bad! She's wonderful. I love Dunsparce - so buzzy and sweet!" Polly chuckled. "Take it easy on her." "I will!" "What are you all yammering about?" This time Nightjar approached the growing gaggle of gossiping Guardians. "Cute Pokemon!" said Hannah. "Our lives," said Vince. "Hmph," said Nightjar. "Sounds trivial." "Well, it's better than sucking up to Ryan constantly," said Vince. "Ooh, burn!" said Hannah. "Y-you take that back!" said Nightjar, eyes widening and taking an aggressive posture. "Ryan- he- you plebeians don't understand!" "Plebeians?"  said Polly. "You're the one who-" "Enough." Everyone stood at attention when Ryan showed up. "Er, Ryan, lovely to see you," said Nightjar. "I wasn't arguing on your behalf again I swea-" "I said enough, all of you." Everyone grew quiet. Ryan turned to Polly. "Polly. I need to talk to you about a few things." Polly raised an eyebrow. "Like what?" "I've gotten a bit of help for our case." Polly was now paying full attention. "Go on." --------------- Two Aura Guardians walked into a bar. Polly looked around as she and Ryan took their seats. "Are you sure he's here?" "He said that's where he'd meet us. Hard to overhear in this place." Polly looked around. There were various humans and Pokemon in the bar, in varying states of drunkenness. A man was passed out in his chair. A Gardevoir was drunkenly floating around hiccuping. A Spinda was actually walking straight for once. Then Polly saw a slim man and his white Florges approach. Polly noticed the man was wearing a white cloak and robes, and had green hair, purple eyes, and a pretty, cheerful-looking face. "Hello! You two must be the Aura Guardians I'm looking for." Polly immediately scanned the man's surface thoughts. She couldn't get much further than that but what she did pick up was friendly, warm, inviting. "...Yes. Yes we are." "Nice to meet you, Beo," said Ryan. "My pleasure!" said Beo. "Polly, Beo is the head of the Blue Wave Society. Another organization that protects those on the Auric Spectrum." He gestured to his Florges. "This is Madam Sprout." Polly stared a bit and nodded before telepathically addressing Ryan. ~...Why do we need more than one?~ ~The Aura Guardians have a wide reach, but are scattered and divided into separate factions. The Blue Wave Society is more concentrated, precise.~ ~Okay, but why do we need their help for a murder and a dissapearance?~ ~Beo will explain.~ "So, Beo," said Polly. "What do you know?" "The murders and disappearances you encountered were far from the only ones," said Beo, frowning. Madam Sprout hung her head. Polly's eyes widened. "There have been... more?" "Yes. Aurics found dead or, more often,  missing in very specific ways matching your description all over this region. And mentions of suspicious activity beforehand for each. This has included Aura users under the Blue Wave Society's care." "This... This is concerning," said Polly. "Which is why we're joining forces with the Blue Wave Society. They have valuable resources to help," said Ryan. "Very well then, Beo. What can you provide us?" "People! More eyes and ears to figure out who's doing this... Ooh, ooh, and we can share supplies too!" Madam Sprout chittered in response. "I ought to help," Beo said. "After all..." He held up one of his hands. A tiny pinprick of Fighting Aura light shone before disappearing. "I'm an Auric myself!" Polly thought. She didn't entirely like getting outside help but if this guy was one of them and could help then... "Alright!" said Polly. "Welcome aboard." "Yay! Drinks on me then!" He turned to the bartender. "One scotch on the rocks!" Polly and Ryan stared. Beo gave them a quizzical look. "What?" ------------ Two Aura Guardians walked into a completely different bar. "Why are we doing a different bar?" said Polly. "Easier to cover our tracks," said Ryan. The two sat again. This bar was much the same as the last, albeit with different people and Pokemon. The person that approached them, however, was new. A young man, around Polly's age it seemed like with dark blue and black clothes, icy blue hair and eyes, and glasses, and a Corviknight approached. "And you are...?" said Polly. The man stared at her and Ryan for a moment before nodding, as did his Corviknight. "Terrence Morendo, at your service. I'm here on a mission. This is one of my Pokemon partners, Zawisza" His Corviknight gave an affirmative "cor" and a squawk. "And that mission is..." "One of my friends and his Pokemon partner are missing. I've tracked whoever did it here, to the Genesis Mountain range, and now found you Aura Guardians. And I could use your help. In return I will lend you my services." Polly raised an eyebrow. She scanned Terrence's surface thoughts and found she was being suppressed, even harder than with Beo. She didn't like that. "...What kind of services?" "I don't have powers like you do. But my Pokemon and I are good fighters. And good at tracking down the kinds of people who'd do such a thing." Zawisza cawed and nodded. "Terrence contacted me about our current crisis,"  said Ryan. "Thought he could help. Thought he ought to help. We'd provide him with lodging at least." Polly gave Terrence a look. Beo she could tolerate, but this guy just waltzing right in with his mental reinforcements and making himself at home? ~Are you sure about this guy Ryan? I can't read him. That's bad.~ ~As far as I can tell he means no harm and is just as invested in this case as we are. Give him a chance.~ ~...Fine.~ "We will gladly accept your help, Terrence. Terrence nodded and bowed. "Thank you, Aura Guardians. I suppose we celebrate with a drink." He turned to the bartender. "Give me a mixed berry drink for me and my Corviknight please!" Polly and Ryan stared again. "What?" said Terrence. ------------------ It had been a month or two. Riolu had gotten used to life with his new companions. Even if said life was a bit... hectic. He and Shifty had just commandeered a pile of bananas (which were apparently different from Nanab Berries) and going to town on them. "Man, this is great!" said Shifty. He slumped back. "Reminds me of the old days..." "Old days?" said Riolu. "Uh, yeah! You don't think I just crawled out of the egg and ended up where I am now, did you?" "...Really?" "...Okay I kind of did. But then it got complicated I swear." Riolu raised an eyebrow. "How?" "Now, see I was born a street Rattata, like I am now, in a faraway land! But then, a band of pirates found me! We went on all sorts of pirate adventures! We even saw Kyogre!" "Wait, really?" said Riolu. "Yeah!" said Shifty. "...What are pirates?" "Thieves like us but on a boat!" "...A boat?" "It's... I'll explain later. Just know it was awesome." "Then how did you end up here?" Shifty frowned. "One of the pirate adventures went wrong. A bunch of nasty humans started cracking down on piracy. Our whole "steal from the rich" policy came back to bite us. I woke up in a cell in a bar with no memory of how I got there. My crew was gone. I eventually escaped and wound up with the others by chance." "Oh. I'm... I'm sorry I guess..." "Nah, not your fault. It was those asshole humans." Shifty pat Riolu on the head. "Heh... You kinda remind me of me back then. Nowhere to go until you found the right peoplemons." "...Heh. Were... were the others pirates too?" "Huh? Heck no. You know what, you should ask them. I'll save you some bananas." "...Sure." Riolu trotted off, leaving Shifty to idly munch on bananas. ----------- Riolu found Grog scrubbing himself with a towel. "Wha- Oh, hey Riolu! Was just giving myself the old wishy-washy!" "I thought you said Wishiwashi was a Pokemon." "It's both, silly!" Riolu sighed. "Anyway. Shifty said to ask you what you did before the Fighting Thieves?" "Oh, uh." Grog shifted worriedly, clacking his claws together. "I... I killed people." Riolu stared. "You mean, like, killed other Pokemon for food?" "No, I... Killed humans. I was an assassin. It was awful." Riolu's eyes widened. "You what? My dad said- my dad said the Vow forbade Pokemon killing humans!" "Apparently these humans didn't care! I had to do it or they'd kill me!" "That's... that's awful!" "The good news," said Grog, perking up. "Was that I wasn't very good at it. I was too polite. I would always yell "Sneak Attack!" before I struck my foe." "What happened after that?" "Eventually they got fed up with my poor performance and I got fed up with them and I escaped here! I've been much happier without them!" "Hm. I see." "...What's wrong?" "...Nothing. Do you know where Vallant is?" "Oh yeah! Over that way." "Thanks." Riolu headed off. Grog looked at him in confusion before scrubbing himself again. -------------- Rilou found Vallant cutting firewood with his arm scythes. "Vallant?" "What do you want, kid?" "What happened to you before you joined the Fighting Thieves?" Vallant sighed. "Okay, why do you want to know?" "I was curious." "...Fine. I was a knight." "...A knight?" "See there's this human that's arbitrarily in charge of all the other humans in a given area right? Sort of an... alpha female or alpha male, I haven't heard of humans having any alpha enbies except in like... Unova, long ago, and that was a Pokemon anyway. They call them a king or a queen. Knights work for the king or queen." "Oh. So you worked for the alpha human?" "Yeah! And it was glamorous. I got all the food and attention and, hehe, attractive boy mons I could ever hope for." "...But then something happened." "Yeah. This asshole human knight got jealous of me. Framed me for a crime I didn't commit. I was exiled. Now I'm stuck here, committing actual crimes to survive." "Oh... I'm sorry." "Meh. I never needed them." "...I'm going to find Nicolas now." Riolu trudged off. Vallant shook his head. "Weird kid." ----------- Riolu found Nicolas studying a tree stump. "...What are you doing?" said Riolu. "Science!" said Nicolas. "...What?" "It's how you learn how the world works!" Riolu raised an eyebrow. "...How do tree stumps tell you how the world works?" "Well, I'm trying to look at the rings on trees! See how they age!" "...That's how you tell?" "Yeah! Human scientists figured that out!" "They did? Neat..." "Yeah! I've been learning to be like them!" He frowned. "Humans probably won't let a Chimchar do science with them though..." "They won't?" "Yeah! What I hear is they only let other humans do it! At least in the Rotan and Kantonian courts..." "Really? That's no good..." Riolu looked around. "Where's your dad?" "Oh, he went that way," said Nicolas, pointing. Riolu headed off in that direction as Nicolas continued investigating the tree stump. --------- At last, Riolu found Koba sitting, meditating. Riolu moved to tap Koba on the shoulder when Koba spoke. "I know you're there." Riolu stopped. Then sat next to him. "Koba?" "Yes?" "Your whole deal is being a leader to the Fighting Thieves... Why?" Koba was silent for a moment. "They're all like me. Did you speak to the others before coming to me?" "Yes. Why?" "Did you notice a common thread in their stories?" ''...Humans?" "Yes. humans always let them down, disappointed them. I too, was like them when I was young." "How?" Another pause. "There was a human I loved very much, who I aimed to please, both out of the ancient laws of the Vow and out of sheer desire for friendship. But he did not love me back. He beat me, berate me, told me I wasn't strong enough. Eventually, heartbroken, I fled." "O-oh..." "You see, Riolu... Humans can very well make Pokemon stronger, smarter, greater. But the human always wants something out of the bargain. If you are to make a pact with one you must know the risks." "I... I see." "And even if it succeeds... the relationship is always one of master and servant. Nothing more, nothing less." Riolu paused. Then shambled off, leaving Koba to his meditation. Now Riolu too was lost in thought. ***

[starrystarrybabe]

Speakeasy Nights (BoRhap Boys x Reader Mob!AU) CHAPTER TWO

Rated R once again, because this series will be chock-full of smut. I saw what a good response the last chapter got, so I decided to write another chapter.

DISCLAIMER: I did not create this AU all on my own. It is inspired by the AU created by @borhap-socials, @deakydeakydeaky, and @i-the-fangirl. I have permission to do what I want with it, and I am not copying ideas. Only writing things inspired by previous AU’s.

This chapter will deal more with Atropos’ backstory, and begin to delve into the relationship between her and the female gang, Olympus.

Names:

Death- Rami

Conquest- Gwilym

War- Ben

Famine- Joe

Silence- Allen

Hera- Lucy

Eris- Priya

Atropos- (y/n)

CHAPTER TWO

--

You wake up to the smell of coffee being brewed and stale cigarette smoke. Looking around the spacious room, you instantly recognize it as Famine’s guest bedroom. You’ve woken up here after a rowdy night many times before, and this is nothing new to you.

Sitting up and wincing, you let your silk robe fall off your shoulders. In the mirror across from you, scratches and bruises are highly visible on your hips and as you stand up, you see scratch marks on your back and ass.

Smiling at the sight, you move to re-tie the robe around your waist, slipping on a pair of slippers and running a finger through your hair. You love the feeling of being raw and sore, because one of your favorite things in the world is letting your lovely boys have their way with you.

They’ve been this way with you since they first met you, many years ago. You partially trained them to be as deadly as they are, since you yourself were trained by the old gang that used to rule the area.

You run away from your home, sobbing and screaming for help. Your parents have just been murdered by a rival gang, and you would’ve been killed too if you hadn’t run away from the men who killed them. The streets of Brooklyn are dangerous this time of night, especially for a little girl in a thin nightgown, since you’ll be killed by the cold if not by a man.

You run down an alleyway, and bump into someone’s legs, falling down with a thud, and landing in a puddle. Whimpering, you stand up and look down, the occasional sniffle coming out of your body.

“Watch where you’re going, kid. You shouldn’t be here anyways. It’s dangerous for a young girl like you this late out here,” a voice scolds you.

“I-I’m s-sorry, sir. I d-didn’t mean to knock into you.” Your voice is meak and quiet.

The man leans down with a sigh, tipping your chin up. You blink away tears and face a man with wild brown curls and gentle eyes. “What happened to you, love? No little girl just ends up on the streets in her nightgown without a good reason.”

“A m-man shot my mommy and daddy.” You try to hold back tears. “I don’t know what to do. I’m scared, sir.”

The man is joined by a foreign-looking fellow in a fur coat you could’ve sworn your mother wore, a blonde man with blue eyes and a patterned suit, and a man whose hair is like a puffy cloud around his face. He looks up at them.

“Prenter’s men killed her parents.” He looks back down at you. “The man had a moustache and bangs, correct?”

You nod, and the rest of the men are visibly agitated. Obviously this is not the first time they’ve dealt with the man who killed your mommy and daddy.

The foreign-looking one leans down and smiles at you. “Would you mind telling us where your house is, darling? We’ve been meaning to get rid of the man who hurt your family.”

You point down the street. “I-I think it’s two blocks away. I was running and I lost track.”

The group of men stand up, and the one with the puffy hair kneels down to pick you up. “I won’t hurt you, alright? None of us will. Right now, we’re going to take care of that bad man. You can stay with us for now, alright?”

You know that you can trust these men. You feel good about it, so you nod and let him hold you, closing your eyes.

They bring you to a car and you are seated on the man’s lap as the whole group of men fill in. They load their guns and start up the car, and you look at the weapons curiously. The man next to you-- the blonde one-- smiles at you and you look at him curiously.

“Do you want to learn how to use a gun, love?” he asks you.

You don’t want to see anyone use it against anyone else you love ever again, but now that your parents are gone… well, you guess that you don’t really love anyone anymore. You nod. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckles and ruffles your hair. “Just call me Roger, love.” He shows you how to use the gun, and how to aim it, and you nod, following his instructions, and doing it once more on your own.

“Good job… what’s your name, love?” Roger praises you before realizing he does not know your name.

“(y/n) (l/n), Mr. Roger.” You respond a little louder, smiling slightly. You like these men.

“That’s a beautiful name, (y/n). You’re sitting on John’s lap, but we just call him Deaky. The one in the fur coat is Freddie, and the one you first ran into is Brian.” Roger guides you through everyone’s names, and you smile.

“Hello, everyone!” you wave happily at them. “Thank you for saving me.”

You retract your statement about not loving anyone anymore. These men could be the new people whom you hold near and dear to your heart.

You walk into Joe’s kitchen, where he’s making breakfast for you, and already has a cup of coffee ready. Sitting at the kitchen table, you smile at him.

“Sleep well, (y/n)?” Joe asks, finishing the eggs and putting them on two plates.

“Very. Who knew three hours of vigorous sex could be that exhausting?” You sip your coffee and smile as he brings you a plate of scrambled eggs. “Thank you, darling.”

Joe smiles and sits down next to you with his own coffee and eggs. “It’s no problem, (y/n). I’m more than happy to take care of you after a long, hard night.”

You smile and lean back. “Did you have fun last night?”

He nods, sipping his coffee. “I did, but I would have much preferred having you to myself. There’s nothing wrong with sharing you, and it was very arousing watching you get used by all of us, but what can I say? I’m a guy more partial towards one on one sex.”

You shrug. “Well, we can’t always get what we want, can we, Joe?”

You sit in the backseat of the car as the men enter the building where the murderers are, and fiddle with the gun they gave you, liking the sound of the bullets rattling inside the barrel. You’re bored, and almost falling asleep when you hear someone open the car door and drag you outside.

Scared, you look up at the man, and recognize him as the one who killed your mommy and daddy. You begin kicking and hitting, but you’re a tiny thing, and you have practically no impact on the man.

“Stop it! Stop! Please, stop!” You beg the man, but he throws you against a brick wall, smirking. You can feel yourself becoming dizzy from the impact, and when you touch your wound, you feel wetness. As you pull away your fingers, you see blood on them. Slowly, you look up at this awful man.

“You’re a sneaky little one, aren’t you? Didn’t stay put like a good girl and wait to join your parents.” The man’s Irish accent sneers at you, and he puts his hands on his hips. You shakily raise your gun at him, and he just laughs at you. “Do you really think that a little girl like you can hurt me? You’re cute, but that won’t wo--”

He’s cut off by you pulling the trigger and falls down, pressing a hand to his chest wound, which is bleeding profusely. He looks at you in horror, but you don’t notice, because you’re in a state of shock.

You just shot a man. That was a new experience, and not as horrible as you thought it would be. Granted, he was a very bad man, but this was still very new to you. You’re not sure how to react.

You don’t notice as Freddie runs over to you, and surveys the scene. He inspects you, and feels your injury, and tries to get your attention. After five minutes, you respond.

“(y/n), darling, please! Answer me!” Freddie begs you, cupping your cheeks.

You blink at him and look to Paul. “I hurt him.”

Freddie nods. “You did. But darling, he hurt you first. He killed your family. He deserved it.”

Brian runs over and checks you, seeing your injury. “We need to get her to Miami, now. He can fix her up. (y/n), can you hear me?”

You turn to face Brian. “I shot him.”

“Yes, love. You did. I’m very proud of you. Now, let’s get you safe and patch you up.”

You don’t remember the rest of the ride back, and when you wake up, you find adoption papers on your bedside table, proclaiming your new legal guardians to be Brian and Anita May.

Joe smiles and laughs sadly. “I guess we can’t always get what we want.”

You hear a knock on the door, and Joe stands up to open it. Allen walks inside, and you wave at him. He waves back weakly, and you smile.

“Hello, Allen. When are we dropping off the body?”

“In two hours, (y/n),” he responds, quietly sitting next to you.

“Two hours? I should start drawing a bath now, then. I still smell like sex.” You stand up and finish your coffee. “Thank you for the breakfast, Joe. It was delicious.”

He smiles at you. “You’re welcome. Have a nice bath.”

You blow him a kiss and walk off to take a nice, warm bath.

-

That night, you all convene in Death’s house, and as you make your way to the meeting room, you’re stopped by two very surprising faces: Hera and Eris. With a frown, you make your way over to them.

“I must say, I wasn’t expecting to see you two here. Did Death invite you here for business, or are you here because you plan on trying to cheat my boys out of profit?” you comment, looking over the two women.

Hera raises a brow. “We’re here for business, Atropos. I have no idea why you think I’d try to cheat Death.”

Eris shakes her head. “You’re far too distrusting, Atropos. You can trust us. Why would we lie to you? You’re too smart for us to pull that off.”

You sip your champagne skeptically. “Hera, you know that if you play your cards correctly, Death will fall to his knees in front of you, and Eris, every time you get caught in a lie you try something more clever. I’m telling you, I won’t fall for it.”

Hera sighs. “Can you trust us for a moment? We trust you. That’s why we offered to let you be part of Olympus. You know, that offer still stands.”

You shake your head. “No. I get that you want to have an all-powerful girl gang, but it will never happen. Hera, you’re far too erratic to plan for the long run, and Eris, you’re not even-tempered and logical enough to stop her from making impulsive decisions. You might be doing well now, but it won’t last and I know it. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to see my boys.”

You walk away, rolling your eyes. They’ll never succeed. You’d know. You grew up in a gang, and when Freddie died, the whole thing fell apart because the dynamics changed too much. You were forced to go into the profession of prostitution to survive, and build yourself from the ground up.

The glory days always fade. The sun always sets on a gang’s glory. If someone was stupid enough not to realize that, then they were doomed to fail.

Hera didn’t realize this, and for that reason, she’d never succeed.

TAGLIST: @andtheytoldustotellyouhello @plethora-of-things @borhap-socials @everybodyplaythegame @i-the-fangirl @deakydeakydeaky @shisterfackisback

[sailor-cresselia]

Zi-O 29-30: Blade spoilers within (from someone who has NOT watched Blade)

Ha! Black!Woz walks out of the Storytime vault and into 9-to-5.

White!Woz: Haha sweet I get to choose Another Blade

Swartz: Hey, what do you think of being a person who gets used… you know, hypothetically speaking…

White!Woz: ...ah. Well. Shit.  

(We continue this super spoiler-iffic liveblog under the cut. It gets long - this one made it to about 3,000 words. My apologies to mobile users. Just... scroll. Scroll like your life depends on it.)

Awww… the café from Blade has photos from back then on the counter, that’s so sweet. And Amane’s actually wearing the recent necklace for Chalice – that’s a really nice touch there, Toei. Product placement, but it’s a really nice tribute.

Another Blade’s design is – that’s terrifying, that’s a lot of knifes. I like how the spade symbol glows red, and it doesn’t have the ‘handle’ part of a spade. It’s a heart, too. But the thing is… this is the second Another Rider to not have the lens-eyes. Everyone up to Another Zi-O had them, and he notably didn’t.

I know people have been saying they’re proud of Sougo for managing to graduate, and I agree. I really do. I’m happy for our book-dumb protagonist. It’s actually kind of nice to see all four of the ‘team’ together. You know, for certain definitions of ‘team’.

Noting here the Tsukuyomi hasn’t told Sougo that his ‘dream’ was. Not actually a dream, so much as a memory. It makes sense that a small 8-year-old reality warper would take the trauma of something like what Swartz did, and assume the first time he saw it was a nightmare, too.

(Seriously, screw that guy.)

Okay, so, I have not watched Decade, but… from the two (2) films I’ve seen with his cast – WxDecade and the first Hero Taisen movie – this seems to be pretty damned in-character for this Daiki guy. “Lol sup hi just saying hello don’t mind me” *proceeds to steal all your transformation trinkets*

Case in point… Sougo and Geiz don’t notice their personal watches are missing until they go to activate the button on the side. Not when they don’t pull anything out – no, when they go to turn them on. Boys. Boys please.

Also, can I just say that I’m starting to see why people pair Tsukasa and Daiki? I mean, the guy came out in a ~magenta~ apron. And they’re both little shits.

Sougo just shoves Woz in front of them. Woz!Kikai is so OP, oh my god. First the mind control thing when it debuted, the satellite dish lasers in Another Zi-O, and now it has extendable robot arms to grab the watches back. Oh my god.

(Kaito, suddenly copied into another existance as Baron: GFDI just let me be a tree spirit already)

(I know it’s a doppelganger, but seriously. So many Barons. So little patience on his end for people constantly trying to revive him as a pawn.) 

Sougo: Okay, so, you guys’s past is my future, and since it’s 2019, anything that happens in 2068 is the future now, so aren’t you talking about things that haven’t happened yet?

Woz: My lord, please, verb tenses get complicated enough without you speaking.

OOF. Yeah, uh, there’s gonna be a. A few problems with Blade ‘2019’. Namely that he isn’t supposed to be in, like. Japan. Ever again. Because Bad Things Happen when he is around fellow Undead. (He made an exception for Gorider, because a certain zombie f*er was stealing his gig, and poorly at that.

((Am I saying that he’s an asshole who is also a zombie, or that he would do a zombie? … Both. I’m saying both.))

Sougo: Okay, so, we need one person who can fight on both ends, and really, if a team is going after Geiz’s watch, it ought to include Geiz, and you guys want me to go after the Another Riders, so of course the groups are me with Tusukyomi, and Geiz with Woz! :) It’s only rational! :) And if you happen to work out whatever’s going on between you, well, that’s just a bonus, isn’t it? :)

Geiz: ...if I kill him, it’s your fault, you know.

Tsukuyomi: This is a terrible idea.

Sougo: I know! :)

(gasp) Dark Toei is giving us the forbidden rebel backstory!

Oh goody Woz was the leader of their team! And he said he was going to ‘infiltrate’ Oma Zi-O’s camp! And everyone died because he seems to have switched sides. Delightful.

White!Woz: Excuse me? I see a pair of powerups here, but not the one I specifically requested you get.

Daiki: Lol you mad?

White!Woz: ...fight us irl bitch.

Daiki: Heh.

Huh… So… when White!Woz’s tablet makes someone do something, they’re supposed to hear his ‘narration’… and maybe that’s a recent idea from the team, but. When it seemed that he was compelling Sougo to come after him – I can’t remember when, it was during either Shinobi or Quiz, but Sougo and Black!Woz were talking in 9-to-5, and he summoned Sougo away, that didn’t happen. Hm.

Sougo: Dang, couldn’t even knock the watch out temporarily. Drat.

Hm. Regulus is showing up in the daytime now… and so is the rest of the constellation. That can’t be good.

Oooh, nifty. Another Blade has the inverted heart for Chalice on her torso, but the spade for Blade on her. Well, blade. As well as a circular saw, which is a bit overkill when you consider the literal knives sticking up from her shoulders.

Oh, hey, remember that theory about how the Another Riders are technically the enemy that each rider fought? Like how Another Gaim opened cracks into the Helheim forest, and Another OOO bled Cell Medals like a Greeed?

And remember why Kenzaki can never return to Japan?

Undead are drawn to fight each other.

Okay, I get why a speed versus speed battle, to counter Woz!Shinobi, would wind up with Diend summoning Accel. But why Birth? Date’s version was never particularly fast – he’s more of a Mighty Glacier. And the suit isn’t really intended for speed, since Gotou was only particularly speedy when he used the Cutter Wing ‘attachment’.

And then I am immediately answered. Bike juggling to get Woz into the air, so that ‘Birth’ can shoot him down without mercy. (Was reminding us of the bike form really necessary? Was it? I don’t think it was. I could have done without seeing that in-action again.)

Diend: Wow, that’s cold, even for me, watching your friend get beat up like that.

Geiz: Bold of you to assume we’re friends. He’s a born liar. I mean, he’s using a ninja form right now.

Geiz: Yeah, no, Woz, screw you. I know you wanted a distraction. Asshole.

Diend: Aw, look, they do like each other.

OH THANK COSMOS it’s Chalice Versus Zi-O. ...for now. There’s about minutes left for everything to go terribly, terribly wrong. (Because Blade.)

And then it immediately went terribly, terribly, wrong.

Kenzaki and Hajime haven’t transformed in years, because they can’t. They would feel each other’s power, seek each other out, and be forced to fight. Probably the only time Blade has reappeared was in a slightly-alternate reality. (shakes fist at Gorider). And Kenzaki looks absolutely terrible. How did you get here so fast, sir? That jacket has clearly seen far better days, is the damage recent?

Some excellent ‘teamwork’ on Geiz and Black!Woz’s parts – using Shinobi’s finisher to get the two targets in one spot for Geiz’s finisher. Clever. Pity that the other two watches aren’t here.

And with that, and some brutal slashes exchanged between Blade and Chalice…

we move to episode 30.

The power-up watches get all electro-staticy, and try to start a chain reaction with White!Woz, but it doesn’t hold up. Hm.

Geiz: What’s your issue?!

Diend: Looking for my boyfriend-rival. No big deal.

Oh man, neither of them want to be in this fight, but they don’t have a choice. Zi-O accidentally knocks Another Blade into the line of fire for Actual Blade’s finisher, so naturally Chalice steps in to try and take the hit.

It doesn’t… technically work. She still gets knocked out of her transformation, back to Amane, and he’s still in his armor.

Kenzaki: oh god oh shit what the hell?! Amane?! what’s going on oh shit

Woz’s storytime vault…

Oh… The Day of Oma is apparently meant for Sougo to stop the end of the world… apparently as brought on by the Battle Fight.

… Rider versus Rider, right? A pair of Riders who can’t coexist, but also can’t not coexist. And yet another who is supposedly erasing all Riders from history. Starting with the primary members of each group. So… if Blade goes, the world goes. If Chalice goes, the world goes. If they both go, Oma Zi-O rises.

“An interesting game, Professor. The only way to win is not to play.”

Zi-O II’s shot in the opening has been replaced by Zi-O Trinity.

Geiz can relate pretty hard to Kenzaki’s resignation to having to fight Hajime, but also to his desperately not wanting to do that thing.

Once again, we have the question of “What is the future you are aiming for?” The question of “And then what?”

Geiz wants to see the one that Sougo – that they will create.

<3

Junichiro: Hey, what are your plans for the new era?

Sougo: ...Uncle, you have no idea how loaded that question is with this group.

(or does he?)

Hey, that camera’s a clue in more ways than one, isn’t it? Another Blade was attacking photo studios, because Hajime’s a photographer. But that camera’s awfully similar to Tsukasas. Who asked you to repair, that, I wonder…?

Yeah, Woz, you’re kind of being a hypocrite here. Criticizing a woman for wanting to reconnect with an old friend/mentor, while unable to get over the urge to lord over having been Geiz’s superior. GEIZ has a point in his anger. WOZ is just being an ass. And Sougo hones directly in on this.

Kid’s got a decent Charisma stat, too.

When Amane picks up the photos, through to when Kenzaki calls for Hajime. That! The Background!

I think that’s a piano ballad version of “Zi-O: King of Time”!

OST when?

And, also, can we get another instance of Future Soldier in-show anytime soon?

Okay, okay, sorry, back to the show.

OH NOOOO.

Firstly, White!Woz summons the two into a fight.

Then he forcibly activates the Another Blade watch inside of Amane.

The transformation has a screen with Another Blade’s face appear and move over her, just like the card that appears when Kenzaki transforms.

Ow, my heart.

OH SHIT RIGHT.

These two episodes have made no effort to hide the green blood that both Kenzaki and Hajime have – from the miscolored bruises to actual bloodstains. And Undead can be ‘sealed’ away – that’s where the Rouze cards come from in the first place. Another Blade – no. Amane doesn’t want them to fight – doesn’t want them to have to fight. So she seals their powers. Their emblems move onto the Another Blade… armor, I guess is as good a word as any.

And now their wounds are red.

But she just took the powers of two Jokers, absorbing them into one person. Leaving one person with the Joker designation.

Herself.

Please note that I typed this immediately before restarting, only to watch the Sealing Stone appear.

It’s the end of the world as we know it, and nobody feels fine.

Oh, the cinematography of this show. A beam visually separating Sougo and White!Woz from their angles on the stairs – it’s going the opposite direction, making an x with the handrail behind them.

We’re back to the question of “And then what?”.

White!Woz’s future is gone, the potential isn’t there anymore, so he’d rather there not be a future at all. I guess we’ll never see if my ‘a future frozen in an endless moment’ theory was right. Pity. I was wondering if they would go that route for him.

Oooh, an orchestral version of ‘Zi-O: King of Time’!

“You can’t just give up! What’s the use in assuming that it’s over?” Sougo is cheering on even his enemy this boy is not nearly as dark as he assumed in the Ryuki arc, oh my goodness. “You can’t say that any one future is set in stone, so keep trying, keep opposing us! I’ll... No. We’ll keep foiling your plans, but you can’t just give up on the world.”

And the orchestral theme just keeps rising in the background.

Oh… and Sougo said the same thing to Woz. Geiz says that he can’t stand living in the past. And, like I guessed last episode, in like, the fourth section of this liveblog… The past that they’ve lived is, technically, still in the future from where they are now. From Sougo’s perspective, and from the perspective of time itself, none of that has happened yet.

Besides, like Geiz is saying, they came to the past to change history anyway. They’re making a new future, all of them – Sougo, Tsukuyomi, and Geiz… and Woz.

“Do you want in?”

“… That sounds interesting.”

Hm. The Trinity watch – which is somehow successfully created by White!Woz – has all three of the current Belt Voices, doesn’t it? The two that the Ziku Driver uses and the high-pitched one from the BeyonDriver.

“If you use this, I will accept it.”

… accept what? The option to create a new future? The future that Sougo’s aiming for?

Nifty – the light from Regulus and the Day of Oma burns out the clouds from the Sealing Stone.

Pffft - ‘the light is guiding us’ no, no it’s not so much that…

(I love the ‘wtf is going on’ faces from Kenzaki and Hajime)

GEEZ Trinity’s basically a mini-Sentai mech, with all three of them in one place inside.

“Guys, no, I’m sorry, I know none of us know what is going on, but I have to take control for a second, I have to do my speech okay, it’s in my contract. This is not optional.”

I like how the hand on the clock moves to point to whoever’s in control of the body.

I really like how Trinity forms all of their weapons – and how they dissolve when discarded. Nice touch.

And I really like the triumphant section of ‘King of Time’ playing behind this fight.

...Regulus is shining still, brighter than before. With a ‘shine’ of pink, yellow, and green. Their colors.

“Why did you choose to let me stay?”

“Because I think you have more potential.”

White!Woz accepts that ‘his’ world will never exist, and that Sougo will create a better one. He goes out peacefully, and warning Black!Woz – no. Warning Woz that Sir Swartz is planning more than they know.

He goes out with a shimmer of golden motes of light, and the glitching effects that have been a key sign of time re-writing an existence.

Oma Zi-O: You’re almost done… only six more until you’re me.

Sougo: But what I don’t want to?

Daiki yoinked the Future Note. Show off.

Which, of course, creates a slight problem for me and my potential ‘fix it’ of Zi-O, down the line in the Re-United ‘verse. Or, rather, a complication.

See, the draft I’ve got has at minimum one of the Den-O’s and Zeronos ferrying Riders back and forth. THAT is how I plan to deal with the amnesia issue. Not warning them in the present and past, like I had planned. But having the ‘contemporary’ versions of them just. Sorta travel backward, and pretend that they’re the ones that from in the past. Just… ya know, keep their past selves unaware of what’s going on, take the brunt of temporary power removal. Fill in for themselves when Zi-O and Geiz meet them.

And I had everyone scheduling this from Tsukasa having somehow duplicated Black!Woz’s book when he grabbed it during the Ghost arc. I have never seen Decade, and have no idea if that would even be part of his powerset. But, like, Trinity just knocked off his ability to turn Riders into weapons and stuff, so. Ya know.

I’m apparently not that far off, if I can work Daiki into it. … need to watch Den-O and Decade first, but that’s just how it goes.

The complication is my stated ‘not wanting to touch on Zi-O’ aspect. I now admit that I want to handle it somehow, but if they keep airing concepts similar to ones I’ve been working on for months, I’m going to get accused of lying.

Arceus, Cosmos, and Gaim DAMNIT.

Of course, you may have noticed I skipped a scene there during the re-cap.

Because not for the first time, something has been saved by Zi-O taking powers away. I’m still decidedly not here for the amnesia concept, and I am not okay with the fact that certain characters have potentially been un-created – Ankh, Parad, Poppy and the like among them – but here’s the thing.

Both Kenzaki and Hajime remember being Blade and Chalice. They can properly retire – They’re both bleeding red. Hajime was never human to start with – he was using the Spirit card to be human. But he seems to be human now. The Blade and Chalice watches appear to have taken their Joker situation out of the picture.

Like how his intervention by introducing the father to Emu, who clearly went on to point him to Hiiro, saved the son during the Ex-Aid arc.

Like how the girls would have never gone missing during the Fourze and Faiz arc, to say nothing of Takumi and Kusaka being decidedly more alive than usual.

Like how Kaito also appears to be alive again after the Gaim arc.

And how neither the girl or her brother died in the Ghost arc.

How Rentaro can become Shinobi in a newly created potential future.

How Mondo got to meet his father.

… admittedly, his apparently re-creating the events of Ryuki might be a problem. I haven’t had a chance to watch any of the RIDER TIME specials, but I hear that’s what happened? Sorry, Shinji.

But here’s the thing. A not-insignificant number of things have turned out for the better… and as long as the ‘you were never riders’ thing can be… worked around…

Hmn.

((also, just a quick note, if you comment on any of the sections in here, I’d really appreciate it if you specify which statements you’re talking about. These recaps get really long, so... y’know, it’ll make it a little easier for a conversation.))

[rainnawarmcuppa]

Captain Envy (3/?)

Summary: Steve Rogers hadn’t met anyone more beautiful than Peggy Carter. Until he met Rose Tyler, that is. All Events occur after Winter Soldier. Steve/Rose Centric. Mentions of Tentoo/Rose.

Steve Rogers X Rose Tyler

This Chapter: ~1614 words, Teen

Start from the beginning: Ch. 1

AO3

The team spent the rest of the day in Torchwoods American bunker, each of them biding their time after their respective tests by poking around the many different rooms. Steve was pleased with the fact that they weren’t being barred by security clearance and being allowed into whichever room they so pleased. Shields abundance of red tape had bothered him to no end.

Now, however, as he wandered from room to room, speaking with the other Torchwood agents, he was beginning to wonder over his chances with Rose. He seemed to catch the Doctor at every corner he turned. Whether it be a commemorative photo, an award, or even an informative hologram of the man himself. He was standing at one such terminal now, staring at the man and startled by the amount of awareness the program seemed to have.

“Well, hello! My names the Doctor! Do you have any questions or can I direct you anywhere in the facility, perhaps?”

Steve frowned slightly, trying hard not to draw any comparisons, but doing so anyway. The Doctor was barely shorter than him with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. They couldn’t have been more dissimilar. The Doctor was the brains, whereas he was all brawn. He could see how he and Rose fit together, he supposed. His brain conjuring the image of them hand in hand before quickly shaking it away.

“Are you alright?” The Doctor asked, his brow furrowed as he looked up and down the hall as if he was searching for someone, “Do you need me to get you the med bay?’

The Captain raised his brow as he quickly responded, “No, sir, all good over here. If it wouldn’t be to forward of me though, might I ask some personal questions? I mean, I’m not sure if you’re even programmed to do that –“

The Doctor cut him off quickly, “Of course! Depends on what kind of personal question though.”

“I’d just like to know a little bit about you, sir. You founded Torchwood alongside Rose Tyler?” He asked.

A dreamy looked passed the Doctors face, a bright smile lighting it as he began to speak, “Yes! Rose Tyler and I came to this universe in 1932 and had founded the Torchwood Institute by late 1933. The American leg of our institute is very new, however. Just a wee five years old.”

Steve nodded his head before responding, “If it’s not too rude of me to ask, when and how did you pass, sir?”

“Oh, none of that ‘sir’ nonsense, the Doctor will do. And it’s not rude at all, common knowledge I thought. Then again, you must be pretty new, never seen your face before. Anyways! My flesh died in 1970 when I was shot by a HYDRA agent who had infiltrated our base in England.” He said in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Steve raised his brow as he asked, “Your flesh? What do you mean by that?”

“Transcendence, my boy! My Rose and I found a way for me to leave my mind and memory within the Torchwood systems. Really rather brilliant, if I do say so myself.” The Doctor responded as he tugged at the lapels of his suit.

He shifted from foot to foot, staring at the ghost of a man in front of him, “So, are you and Rose…?” he dragged the end out, not really wanting to voice the concern he had as he was afraid he might expose himself.

“Oh, Not anymore. We tried, for the first few years, didn’t work though. It’s amazing how much of a relationship requires human interaction and touch.” The Doctor said as he tugged on his ear.

Steve felt the relief settle over his body like a blanket, the tension flooding away from him. The awkwardness remained, however, as he thought about how whatever he may try to start with Rose would be overshadowed by her AI ex-husband. He was about to continue his questioning and try and get some backstory on Rose when she came down the corridor and interrupted him.

“Hello, Cap. I didn’t realize that you were still here.” She said with a smile. She stopped walking when she reached his side, settling an even distance between him and the Doctor.

“Just taking a look around the facilities, ma’am.” Steve responded as he tipped his head towards her.

“Hello, darling! I was just telling-“ The Doctor stopped short, directing his gaze at Steve once again, “I don’t believe I actually caught your name. I’m sorry. Incredibly rude of me.”

“Doctor, this is Steve Rogers. He also goes by Captain America.” She replied while throwing a wink in the Doctor's direction.

“No! The Captain America. Boy, what a day! Anyways, I was just telling him a little bit about myself.” The Doctor responded, bouncing lightly on his feet as if his body couldn't contain his energy.

Rose laughed, a tinkling sound that sent shivers down Steve’s spine and caused an involuntary smile to spread across his face before she spoke, “‘Course you were, you could tell stories all day. Got a gob on him, he does.”

“Not a problem, ma’am, I did ask a fair amount of questions,” Steve replied.

Rose looked at him and asked with a small smile on her face, “Would you like to grab lunch with me? I could murder a basket of chips.”

Steve was slightly startled by the sudden change of subject, but nodded his head anyways in assent, “Of course.”

She looked at the hologram and nodded her head, “I’ll catch up with you later. Hit me on the comm’s if there’s any trouble. “

He watched as the Doctor smiled before vanishing.

It didn’t take them long to reach the Irish pub after Roes changed into a pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt. It seemed as if she had chosen the Torchwood location because it had the diner so near. He figured he would have to ask her sometime, but he was trying to pay attention to what she was saying while not drawing attention to the way he was staring at her lips as she spoke.

“So, why didn’t you stick around and watch the rest of your team?” She asked as she doused her fries in malt vinegar and salt.

Steve was wondering how she stayed so thin if she ate stuff that greasy all the time when he responded, “I already know how everyone works in the field, ma’am. Besides, Mr. Stark had enough of an audience and I believe that his ego is as big as it needs to be.”

Rose nearly choked as she laughed around the fry in her mouth and he was beginning to get the sense that she didn’t laugh much anymore when she quieted down quickly.

“Do you do this often?”

A startled look crosses her face before she remembered to respond, “’m sorry?”

Steve gestured between them before asking, “Spend time with your team members? I’m used to the big man staying up in his office while the little men do the work.”

She chewed for a bit, scooting her fries around on the plate before replying, “’m not your run of the mill, head of a company type. The best way to avoid subterfuge is to know your team members individually. We may get a lot done, Mr. Rogers, but we are very few in numbers.”

“Steve, ma’am, you can call me Steve.”

Rose smiled coyly at him over her plate and he felt his heart skip a beat and an ache swell in his chest as she replied coolly, “Well, then you need to drop the ma’am and call me Rose. Never was much of a ma’am, makes me sound old.”

He reached a hand across the table, wetting his lips softly when she fit her soft hand in his own, “You got yourself a deal, Rose.”

“The Doctor and I, we never were ones for titles or salutes. ‘s just so – I don’t know, not us. It’s definitely not me.”

Steve laughed as he replied, “I think it takes an awful lot to start a company from the ground up, you both deserve respect.”

He was picking at his salad and trying hard not to stare at her too much when he continued, “Your skillset, it’s pretty amazing.”

He can tell she’s embarrassed, averting eye contact as she responded, “It’s all very simple. Just destruction of matter by breaking it down.”

“Still amazing in my book.” He said, stooping his head to try and catch her eye.

The rest of the dinner is small talk, where she grew up and how she was raised. They talk about him some, too. His past, his views, but they don’t go too deep. It’s nice, but it’s no first date he thinks.

When he flagged a cab down for her that night, he hesitated before shutting the door, weight shifting between one foot and the next as he tried to get his words out, “Hey, Rose, I was just wondering. Um- Do you think I could take you out sometime?”

Her face and voice are full of surprise when she looked at him from her lap, “What? Like – like a real date?”

“Yes. If that’s okay.” Steve responded meekly.

“Oh, um, yeah. Sure.” Rose said as a blush bloomed across her cheeks.

“Great, okay, I’ll call you then. We’ll make a date.” He said as he shut her door

“Right.” He saw the tiniest of smiles appear on her face as she rolled down her window when the cab began to slowly pull away, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Steve.” Rose responded, her voice airy and breathless.

[bernadineisreborn]

Handling the Truth

Prologue

Summary: You are moving to NYC to go to college after a lifetime of living in a suburb of Chicago. Hopeful that the future is kind to you, you plan to put your best foot forward, even when things go wrong. Besides, handling the truth has always been something you’re good at. 

Warnings: none (yet!)

Pairings: Peter Parker x female, enhanced reader

Word Count: a teeny little 1.4k

A/N: Hello, lovely people! This is a new idea I have been working on for a while. I plan to update it about twice a week??? Not sure though. Empire State University is a real place in the Marvel Comics, and it is attended by Peter, Harry, Flash, Gwen Stacy and others like Johnny Storm and Squirrel Girl. Read about it here! PS. Everyone in this story is at least 18 years old!!! PPS. I am either ignoring Infinity War or letting this story happen after Peter is (hopefully) brought back to life, you can choose which.

Other Parts: Chapter One

—

You glance behind you while walking towards the gate you need to board. Over your shoulder, you see your parents waving at you, happy that you are following your dreams, but sad that you are leaving home. You wave back, fighting tears in your eyes, and you can’t help but wonder if you are making the right decision. 

You have always wanted to live in New York City, but leaving everything you know and love behind made it hard to take the leap. Still, you know that relocating is what’s best for you. The move offers you a brand new start, and the ability to leave the horrors of high school in the past. So, you take a deep breath and give your parents a final salute, turning towards the gate and leaving your past miles and miles behind you.

Making your way to your seat and adjusting your bags, you observe the plane and the people boarding it. The plane is nice, you have just enough room to be comfortable and just enough time to mentally prepare yourself for your new life. You glance out the window, thinking about what you are leaving here. 

You grew up in a comfortable suburb a couple of hours outside of Chicago, giving you the ability to travel into the city when you desired. From a young age, you loved the wonders in the heart of Chicago. There were so much diversity, and so many stories to be told. You felt like you belonged, even though you weren’t from the city, you felt like you could find a new home there. 

When you started looking for places to go to college, you knew you wanted to go to school in a big city like the one you had grown up around. Of course, you applied to a bunch of places in Chicago, it would have been best to live close to your parents in a city that you were already familiar with. But, you also applied to schools in other big cities; London, L.A., Miami, and of course, New York. 

You hadn’t really expected to be able to attend any of these schools, they were out of your price range and it was unlikely that you would compare well to the other students applying, being that your intellect was far from the best. So, you were more than surprised when you received a certain letter from the ivy-league  Empire State University in New York City.

You stepped into your house, glad to feel the rush of air conditioning cover your sweaty body. You kicked off your shoes and dropped your backpack by the door, more than ready to lay down for a few hours after a strenuous day of senior year. 

“Mom! I’m home!” you called, already racing up the stairs to your bedroom, you had been thinking about your cozy bed all day.

“Y/N, honey, wait a second!” she called back, “Some letters came for you in the mail. They look like they are from some schools you applied to.”

Excitement jolting your nerves at the thought of your future, you headed back downstairs, towards your mother’s voice in the kitchen. There were three letters addressed to you, one from Northwestern University, and two from Empire State University. Eager, you opened the one from Northwestern first.

“Dear Miss Y/N L/N,” you read aloud with confidence, “we regret to inform you that…” you trailed off, emotions shifting negatively at the contents of the letter.

You didn’t get in. You looked to your mother, who wrapped you in a sympathetic hug, assured you that you would find a school, and that you would go to college somewhere great.

“Why don’t you open the other ones, sweetie?” your mother gently encouraged.

Might as well get it over with, you thought, opening the smaller, more formal looking envelope first.

“Dear Miss Y/N L/N, we are ecstatic to offer you a place in our next class of students. Your qualities are those we admire greatly in incoming students, and…” you read the entire letter aloud, soaking up the praise for your many extracurriculars, SAT scores, and GPA, pausing before the last sentence, “Be sure to keep an eye out for our scholarship package. It comes in a large, green envelope. We look forward to hearing from you soon.”

You looked down to the last piece of mail. The remaining envelope from Empire State was bigger, and it was colored a bright, grassy green. You tore it open as fast as you could, eyes scanning the words on the page.

“Oh my god,” you exclaimed, “Mom, I got a full ride!”

You accepted the offer from ESU the same day you received it.

You had not grown up poor, but your parents were not at a secure enough place to help you pay thousands of dollars towards a college education, so a full ride was a huge deal. Not to mention, ESU was a dream school. They were located in the one of the best parts of New York City and they had a great reputation.

Because of your scholarship, you were placed in a program called “The Past Meets The Future.” Cliche, you had thought, but whatever, they are paying for me to go to school. The program not only paid all college fees you were assigned, it also volunteered a person of importance in New York to mentor you and take you in as an intern of sorts. You didn’t know who you were interning for yet, but you hoped it was someone good, someone who could teach you about the ways of the world in ways that your parents could not.

You were drawn back to the present when a man squeezed into the seat next to you. He was dressed in an expensive looking blazer and he was talking into the newest iPhone. It didn’t have a case. Bold. His hair was cropped in a buzzcut, close to his head, and his eyes looked unbothered and bored. He also seemed irritated, he paid no mind to you as he sat down, uncaring that his briefcase was invading too much of your personal space to be polite.

“I know, honey, I am getting on the flight now. I will be home soon,” he spoke in an annoyed tone, “No. I haven’t spoken to her in years, you know that.”

At his words, you felt a cold sensation in the back of your neck, an indication that his words were not true. He was lying, and not even lying well. 

The flight attendant passed hurriedly down the aisle, stopping to talk to the man next to you with a pretty smile on her face, “Sir, could you please end your phone call? The plane is taking off soon.”

He glances up at her, grunting under his breath, “I will be done in a second.”

Another cold tingle. Another lie.

But, the flight attendant accepted the man’s words and walked further down the aisle, stopping to help people as she went.

The man continued to speak, “Honey, I promise that I didn’t see her. I would never cheat on you, you know that.”

More cold. More lies. 

“Okay. Yes, No… I gotta go, honey,” he says as the flight attendant shoots him a passive aggressive look from across the aisle, “Yup, see you soon. Love you too. Bye.”

The stranger’s claim that he loved the woman he was talking to gave you an intense cold chill, meaning that it was a big lie. He was probably cheating on this woman and acting like he was still in love with her.

He finally ends the call and glances at you, “Never get married, kid,” he says with a laugh.

Disgusted, you frown a little and scoot away from him. This was going to feel like a long flight.

Ever since you could remember, you have been able to tell when people are lying. It’s not that you’re exceptionally good at reading people or anything like that, it’s just a sixth sense you have. You were born with it. You used to think everyone had the same sense, but you figured out that wasn’t the case when you told your own first lie. Your parents had believed it, without a single doubt, and you figured out you an ability that other people didn’t.

A little less than an hour into the flight, you realized how tired you were from packing, saying your goodbyes, and overthinking your future. You gave in to the allure of sleep, hoping things would be easy and exciting once you arrived in New York.

If only you had known the truth then.

—

A/N: Hi everyone! Please forgive the fact that this part was basically just a shit ton of backstory! Actual interactions with characters from the MCU coming up! Love you all and please GIVE ME FEEDBACK and let me know if you want to be tagged! :)