#intended or assumed interaction level i had expected

[xamaxenta]

Also i know its not a race and theres no rush but sometimes i wish i was a little faster at finishing art

[randomshyperson]

Baby, I'm Yours - Wanda Maximoff Oneshosts

Summary: The Avengers gain a new member, and Wanda Maximoff mistakenly assumes she has gained a rival instead of a friend. Or the one where Wanda has a crush that she doesn't know how to deal with. [Requested]

Warnings: really fluff, enemies to lovers, some kissing and a lot of teasing, avengers being a family, emo!Wanda and her first gay crush. | Words: 4.564k

A/N-> This was requested a while ago and I used it as practice for a winter soldier!reader idea that I had. Idk if I would ever make a series out of this idea, but it was fun to write this reader.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Seven months after she joined the Avengers, someone else did too.

Unlike her, Sam was extremely excited by the news, he woke up early and somehow managed to convince Vision to join him in the welcome. 

Wanda would have skipped the interaction - She only went to get breakfast and intended to spend the rest of the training-free day filled with interactions between the team, hiding in her room and watching old TV shows. But as soon as she noticed the little witch sneaking around the kitchen trying to go unnoticed by Sam's excited theories about who the new avenger would be, Natasha whistled and called out to her.

"Good morning, Maximoff. Do you intend to welcome our new colleague in pajamas?" The widow asked, hiding a teasing smile behind a cup of coffee. 

The question already implied what Wanda had feared, and made her sigh. "I didn't know I was expected to take part in the welcome."

Nat grimaced softly - she seemed to be finding the whole thing very amusing.

"What an idea, Maximoff, of course you are! We were all there waiting for you when it was your turn."

She forced a smile, resisting the urge to snap back something bratty like "Thor wasn't". Deciding she had no reason to argue with Natasha, she busied herself with preparing some toast and pouring herself some tea.

When Sam suddenly tapped on the counter, everyone looked at him.

"I got it!" he declared excitedly. "I bet the new guy is Spider-kid!"

Nat frowned. "Who?" and then chuckled to the Falcon's obvious disappointment.

"Come on, the colorful vigilante who keeps throwing webs around? How come you've never heard of him?"

Assuming a thoughtful expression for a moment, Nat flipped through the newspapers on the counter before clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

"Ah, I think Tony's got his eye on that one." She says. "But, no, Wilson. The new recruit isn't the spider. And there's no point in giving me that look, as I won't spoil the surprise."

It looked like the subject was ending - at least that Sam was going to give up. It wasn't long before the rest of the team showed up for coffee, and Wanda mumbled a few good mornings back quickly before making her way to her own room, to change into something more presentable than fluffy pajamas.

But on the way to the bedroom, from one of the glass entrance doors, Steve Rogers appeared and he was accompanied.

"[...] Come on, we're early, they must still be having breakfast." Commented the older Avenger, busy taking off his coat, it took him a moment to notice that Wanda was in the hallway. She was staring, probably. "Oh, good morning, Wanda. I want you to meet someone."

But Wanda already knew you, straight from the television. And from the Shield's files of potential Avenger-level threats. 

So maybe that's why when Steve said your name, patted you on the shoulder and you held out your hand for Wanda to shake, she just stared.

"Okay, not a handshaker." You mumbled awkwardly, lowering your arm. "You're Wanda Maximoff, mind reader and former enemy, right? I didn't expect the shock, given the circumstances."

"Hey, easy." Steve grumbled at your aggressiveness, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. Wanda narrowed her eyes at you, but you didn't look too intimidated, your posture relaxed and your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket. "That's in the past. We're all friends now. Aren't we, Wanda?"

With some resistance, she eventually forced a smile and tried to relax her posture. She sighed and nodded. "Of course, Steve. It's nice to meet you apart from the news, Miss Barnes. Should we wait for your brother to join us or does he still have Interpol on his back?"

You chuckle dryly. "Listen here, you-"

"Okay, enough." Steve interrupts, pulling you by the shoulders and giving Wanda a disapproving look. He also whispers that he'll have a talk with her later, but the witch turns away, dragging her feet back into the bedroom while you and Rogers head in the opposite direction.

On the way to the kitchen, you mutter: "And here I thought superheroes were polite."

The soldier chuckles briefly. "You tried to blow up the White House, you can understand the hesitation. Now come on, we've got the rest of the team to shock." 

It had taken her hours to see you again, not that anyone had asked her opinion, but Steve had put you in the room next to hers on the justification that it would be good for the two of you to have someone close in age to pass the time.

Wanda grimaced and reminded him that you were about 150 years old. Steve chuckled.

"Technically, yes. But she spent almost all that time on ice, so she was only really around for less than 20 years. Can you please try to be friendly? You have more in common than you might think."

Wanda begrudgingly agreed to be the one to give you a tour of the tower. And so she could also discover that she was apparently the only Avenger who was hesitant about your presence on the team.

She knew your list of skills off the top of her head, but still wondered if you could read what she was thinking when you added; "Your hesitation is totally fine, Maximoff. It must be hard to share the podium as the team's coolest person, but you get used to it."

She chuckled awkwardly at the compliment mixed with teasing at the end of the tour. You offered her a farewell wink, thanking her for the favor before muttering that you needed a shower after several hours of driving. You disappeared to your own room before Wanda could come to a coherent conclusion as to why her heart was racing inside her chest.

Perhaps she was having a panic attack? 

Wanda turned on her heels and made her way to Bruce's lab. A quick check-up would clarify things.

While assuring her that she didn't have a chronic arrhythmia, Bruce also - under the influence of Natasha and Tony - diagnosed her with something very common to teenage patients: a crush.

"Did you consider Miss Maximoff, that perhaps, you may have just liked her?"

She did not take this very well. 

"What? That's ridiculous! I'm not even gay!" Bruce looked up from the normal results of the cardiology test she had demanded and offered her a small smile.

"All right, Miss Maximoff, maybe I made a mistake. You're probably just anxious about your return to action next week." The doctor suggested and Wanda stood up from the lab chair with an impatient huff.

"That's definitely it." She assured him, not wasting any more time on Bruce and his absurd theories after thanking him for the tests.

After such an unfortunate situation, Wanda began to avoid you. It was the most viable solution when someone caused her to have irregular heartbeats, sweat or tremors. Perhaps she was allergic to you.

Obviously, she should keep her distance.

But it seems that the team had other ideas.

"Barnes and Maximoff, you're together. No gloves, come on." Natasha arrived at the gym announcing, an iPad with the training schedule in hand. Wanda, who had spent a good few weeks with the successful plan of interactions limited to greetings, nearly had a stroke. At least her partner, Sam, was keen enough to hold off his punch before it got to her. Wanda hadn't even heard his comment about her getting distracted in a fight and her feet were moving towards the mat, her eyes quick to notice your breathless figure removing the fighting gloves you had been using on a practice dummy for the last few minutes.

"Let's see if training with Wilson has taught you anything, Maximoff." You commented with a smile that made her stomach jump. Something about your sweaty, panting appearance was making her dizzy. 

The rest of the team spread out on the edges of the mat, interested to see the exercise, and it was only Natasha who came up to you to lead the whole thing.

"Start with the basics, I want to see Wanda's reaction time." The widow explained, squeezing the two of you on the shoulder. Before turning away completely, she raised a finger in warning to the younger brunette. "And no magic tricks, Maximoff. Even if you're losing."

Wanda smiled, rolling her eyes. Only once had she done that to Natasha and it seemed the widow would never let that story die.

Before the whistle blew, you looked her in the eye. "I'll take it easy on you, little witch." You whispered teasingly, and Wanda felt something burn in her lower belly. She also decided that she had to win because she had to get that smirk off her face.

It was an easier task than it looked - and it was all down to the fact that if there was one thing Hydra had taught her well, it was to exploit weaknesses. 

And yours was to care about her. Every hesitation in your movements, your awareness of the super-soldier strength that could hurt her, made it very easy for Wanda to exploit it, slip away, and dodge all your blows. And there was something else too; a soft choke in your breathing every time she got too close, tangled up between one move and the next. The way your ears turned three shades redder when she managed to knock you over and landed on your chest. 

"Wow, Maximoff really is kicking your ass." taunted Sam from the corner of the room, grinning at Barton and Nat.

You didn't seem to mind, licking your lips as you took a second look at the position Wanda now found herself in; sitting on your hips. 

She did, however, give you an annoyed look. "Don't hold back, I can take it." 

"I'm sure you can, little witch." You retorted ironically, leaning yourself fully back onto the mat. 

Wanda grunted angrily, then grabbed the collar of your blouse. "Fight for real! I don't need you to take it easy, I can handle it."

The disarming was so quick that she barely had time to blink - one second she was on your hips, the next her back was pressed to the mat with her hands pinned to the side of her head.

Your body on top of hers, pressing her to the floor, made her choke.

For a moment, as your dilated eyes descend to her mouth, you also seem to forget what you were doing, and the audience around you.

But suddenly, you let go; a dry, humorless laugh escaping you as you stand up. And you turn to Nat as if you hadn't just dropped Wanda on the mat.

After ignoring you for weeks, she thinks she deserves it.

"Her fight is decent, so I think we had enough."

Nat raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Oh, are you the one deciding on the training now, Barnes?"

You smile briefly before retorting; "Come on, everyone knows she's not punching her way out of fights when she can use the energy tricks. It's a waste of time making the girl train like a soldier."

Natasha doesn't seem to agree. She follows you towards the locker room, arguing how important it is to eliminate the team's vulnerabilities, while the rest scatter around the gym, some giving up practicing to get something to eat and others going back to wrestling.

Wanda regrets sitting on the mat because in that position she can watch you at the locker room door, tugging at your training shirt, exposing a strong muscular back and a lot of skin because of the sports top that doesn't do much good to hide it. 

Natasha continues to talk to you without taking any notice of the gesture, so Wanda is sure she's the problem. Her stupid brain and heart are clearly forgetting that she can't handle a crush right now. 

She doesn't even have Pietro anymore, who, as soon as he'd finished tormenting her about it, would give her advice. Because he's always had a natural talent for this kind of thing, while the last time Wanda tried to flirt with a boy, it sounded like a threat. 

She can't do this on her own. And with that conclusion, she tries to get over it. Maybe Google has some tips, or maybe, the walking computer that hangs around the tower can help.

"Vis?" 

The synthesized man took his eyes off the book in his lap when Wanda called out to him, a few days after the training session where, since being pressed into a mat by you, Wanda found herself unable to think of anything else. 

"Hello, Wanda." He greeted her gently, closing the pages and waiting for her to approach.

"I need your help with something."

"Oh, what would that be?"

Wanda pressed her lips together, her hands restless in front of her body. "Would you be able to tell me the most efficient way to... get over someone?" Vision frowned in surprise, and Wanda sighed. "Someone we shouldn't like. Definitely inappropriate."

Vis opens her mouth, still in shock at the whole thing, but it's someone else who speaks;

"What's definitely inappropriate?" Tony asks, and Wanda thanks the gods he didn't hear the first part. 

"N-nothing!" Rebuts the witch quickly, the color of her cheeks probably giving her away. Stark looks at her suspiciously, then at Vis.

"Okay, what are you two love birds talking about?" The Vision would have blushed if he could. He gets visibly embarrassed, smiling shyly.

That's great as if Wanda needed one more extra thing to stress her out. 

She can barely contain her grimace at the nickname, but Tony doesn't bother; Vision is at least quick to change the subject, and surprises Wanda with his ability to lie very well. 

"We were just commenting on how inappropriate General Ross's accusations were at the last meeting." And that's enough to distract Stark.

Wanda practically flees the scene after that. For a long moment, she had even forgotten about the tension that had been swirling around the Avengers over the last few days, precisely because your absence from the compound made her - not that she would admit it - miss you terribly. And all she could think about was inevitably you, busy on missions with Steve in search of your brother James.

With your presence increasingly rare in the Compound, Wanda hoped that the crush would go away, but every time she happened to bump into you between missions, the feelings came back with an overwhelming force, like two lovers the war kept apart. It was frustrating, to say the least. Especially since Wanda was nothing more than a teammate. Hardly a friend.

When Lagos happened, and it was the worst thing that could possibly occur, at least Wanda had something else to think about. And this time, Ross's visit to the Compound was more than inappropriate - it was final.

Accords and fights between the team led to an unbearable situation. With half of her colleagues out for meetings with the United Nations, Wanda was still grounded at the Compound, waiting for news.

She didn't expect you to be sneaking around.

"You shouldn’t be here." That's the first thing she says as she fully opens the bedroom door you left ajar. Wanda could lie about being your fault that she found you, when in fact she had become an expert at sensing your aura over the last few weeks, the ability to just know when you were around, perfecting itself every time you two met.

You chuckle, without diverting your attention from the task of filling your backpack with as many things as you can squeeze inside. Wanda had the impression that many of the items you came to collect in your room were old presents; everything the others had gotten you over the last few holidays. Things that were precious.

"I'm aware. I won't be long." You retort, folding some socks together to put them away in the closet.

Wanda should call Vis - he's working as a sort of watchman for the tower or something. And he was supposed to notify Tony of your presence. But instead, she closes the door.

Twisting her fingers in anxiety, she asks:

"Where are you going to run off to?"

Offering her a quick glance as you returned to your suitcase to put away some underwear that made Wanda look away, you replied; "I can't tell you that, little witch."

Wanda almost smiled at the nickname. Instead, she took a desperate step forward.

"Would you take me with you?"

Standing back, you chuckle. "Funny."

"I wasn't joking."

You leave the St. Petersburg snow globe you got as a present from Natasha on the dresser and turn with a frown to the witch behind you. "Maximoff, come on-"

"I'm serious." She insists. "Stark grounded me. Like a fucking child. “ She then chuckles sadly. “Or worse, a problem he didn't want to deal with. And I know I fucked up in Lagos-"

"Don't say that, Lagos wasn't your fault." You interrupt her with a certain determination. "You need to remember that, alright?"

Wanda smiles softly at your reassurance, looking away because her face is suddenly very warm. You sigh then grab just one more change of clothes before zipping up your suitcase.

"It's not because of the company, Wanda." You mutter suddenly, with the backpack on your shoulders. She looks at you with confusion, but you don't meet her gaze. "I just don't think it's right, everything that's happening. And I don't think we should all be fighting with each other. But that's what's going to happen from now on. If you come with me, Steve probably expects you to be choosing sides. And I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."

Her heart skips a beat, but Wanda takes a chance;

"Anyone... or me?"

You're taken aback, but you don't lose your poise. You sighed deeply before approaching her without haste, without any hint of what you were going to do either. Wanda opens her mouth again, to apologize for being so difficult, but you muffle the statement with a kiss.

It's the first time she's kissed another girl if that isn't obvious. She melts, panting and so very shy; it's a good thing that you hold her waist, while your other hand keeps your face close by grabbing her chin gently. Wanda's lungs scream for air after a moment, but she refuses to pull away from a sensation as good as kissing you.

Something like a whimper of need escapes her when you break the act, or maybe it's the way you give her lower lip a gentle tug with your teeth that leaves her trembling, ready to beg for more.

"Sorry if that was sudden." It's the first thing you say, your voice is hoarse, and as affected as your breathing. You smile, your thumb wiping away some of the mess left by Wanda's gloss. "But I think it took us long enough."

She babbles like a fish, unable to form a coherent thought for a whole moment. You wait patiently, your hands touching her shoulders, sliding down her arms as a way of calming her. Wanda has dreamed so much of feeling you that the touch meant to ease her nerves has quite the opposite effect; every inch of skin you touch tingles.

"H-how... did you know?" she asks, and you give a short laugh.

"I didn't." You retort gently. "Not for sure, at least. Not until two seconds ago when you asked to come with me. I had this... feeling. And this tension. Every time we walked into the same room, every time we were alone. I just felt…” You can put it into words exactly, so you just take a deep breath and smile at her. “I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, that the way I felt was making me imagine things but then you came in here. Sneak out into my room and ask if you could leave this fancy tower to run away with me to fight. I just had to be sure."

Wanda bites back a shy smile, feeling the heat spreading from her chest to her face and eras, and knowing for a fact that it's only going to get worse because of the way you're looking at her.

She tries to get some ground again.

"And are you..." A sigh, as one of your hands settles on her waist. "Sure?"

You hum thoughtfully before breaking the distance, kissing her in a different way than before. It's more intense and hungrier. Your tongue invades her mouth, exploring everywhere and your hands prevent her from pulling away when the oxygen is off. Every needy sound that escapes her is muffled against into lips. 

Wanda tentatively follows the rhythm, one of her hands wrapping in your hair. Your backpack falls to the ground and you hold her tighter now, pulling her into you. It's a significant difference between a super-soldier's body and her own, and just the quick memory of you pressing her against the mat makes her moan into your tongue.

The sound makes you lose your mind - Your hands become more determined, the kiss desperate. Wanda struggles for air, exposing the collarbone that keeps you busy as she tries to catch her breath. You bite down on her skin and she arches against you, her hands becoming bold enough to scratch your back and pull up your blouse.

But you break into a husky chuckle, slowing the kiss and pulling away to remind her; "We have to go." Between one touch and the next, "We don't have time."

She needs a whole moment to force her brain to work, and even after you're no longer touching her, and she's sneaking off to her own room to prepare a suitcase, she's still shaking.

When you meet again, running hand in hand with suitcases back to the garage, Wanda is surprised to realize that she was foolish to be afraid of something as good as this. 

That is, of course, until reality hits again.

Wanda has never seen you in action as a Winter Soldier before. She saw it through television, Shield files, and testimonies about deserters captured by the Avengers.

But she was never there.

The Avengers split up and fought each other, and your brother fled with Steve Rogers. She thought you were safe on the plane with them, she made sure you got on - but she didn't see you climb off.

Wanda accepted being captured, she accepted being drugged as a security measure. And throughout the confusion that was the transportation of the Avengers in custody to the Raft, she thought she was hallucinating the whole way there. The masked figure attacking the soldiers and opening the cells was a projection of the sedative in her mind.

She only knew what had really happened, had been able to remember, when you both were already in another country as fugitives from the United Nations.

You were by her side the whole time. You held her on your lap after getting rid of the straitjacket that had trapped her and lay down next to her when there was finally a secure roof over your heads.

Wanda was exhausted. She had lost the only thing she had left; her freedom. There was no longer a home, a team, a brother. She was drugged and trapped like an animal by people she considered family.

She started crying, and you woke up. You didn't say a word or ask her to stop. You just held her and let her sob into your chest until she fell asleep again, this time from exhaustion rather than through the influence of chemicals.

When what was left of the team moved on the following day, to another location to avoid suspicion as Natasha clarify it, Wanda got the impression that maybe it was you who needed her to hold you until you went to sleep now.

Bucky didn't come back, and neither of you knew what had happened to him or Steve. 

Wanda let you cry all you wanted.

But then finally, everyone who had fought for Steve was back together. Even Clint and Scott, who would probably make deals for their families, to try to be with them, and would have to leave soon. For a moment, everyone was there and you found out that your brother was going to stay in Wakanda to be free again.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a good moment. Steve got food for everyone, you had something that resembled a Christmas, or at least an end-of-year celebration.

We're alive and safe. We're together. Steve was a man of words.

Even if they were sharing a safe house that was too small for such a group. Even if half the world was after them.

The team fell asleep between sleeping bags and sofas, and you left the trailer to get some air. Wanda went after you without thinking much about it.

"It's cold, witchy." You commented as soon as she was close enough, even though you opened your arms for her to wrap hers around you.

Your back was against Nat's truck, and Wanda pressed a little closer to hide her face in your collarbone.

"Where are you going to run off to?" She questions into your skin.

You sigh, one hand caressing her back. "I don't know." You confess quietly. "I wouldn't get to Wakanda with this, but I wasn't feeling very well in there. Having a Christmas meal without him."

Wanda adjusts her face to look at you. "Bucky needs to heal first."

You nod, giving her a sad smile. "I know, but Steve told me they put him back on ice. Until they found out what they were going to do with him. Just the fact that he's there, freezing again... " You look away, sniffling softly. "It reminds me of the past, our time as Winter Soldiers. And It makes me very sad.” You explain softly before sighing. “I know there's nothing we can do to help him now, but it's all so frustrating. I just needed to get out of there for a moment."

Wanda absorbs your words for a moment until she returns to her previous position and smiles as she feels you relax and put your arms around her. 

She murmurs; "It's a shame we can't go out there. Natasha said this place has beautiful spots to visit."

You snort slightly. "Actually, we could drive somewhere further away. Far from the city." You comment. "We can watch the Aurora Borealis."

Wanda bites her lip for a moment, considering your invitation, until she adds; "Just the two of us?"

You chuckle. "Unless you want to wake up the team..."

"No, I wasn't complaining!" She clarifies quickly, and you start laughing again. 

She taps you gently on the shoulder to make you stop. "Idiot."

"Your idiot." You hit back with a smirk, and Wanda's heart stops beating for a moment. There's a pause, between exchanging intense glances as you bring your hands to her face, adjusting her hair out of the way. "Don't forget, witchy."

She swallows dryly, her voice hoarse when she speaks: "I won't." She whispers back and you smile before pressing your lips into hers.

[ctheathy]

Yandere Miles “Nine” Prower Headcanons

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Author’s note : Here’s the Nine hcs I promised!! Hope you enjoy these little double trouble posts <3<3

The original post with yandere Miles [Where Was My Hero?] + Similarities ➷

Nine/Reader [Romantic//Platonic]

+Slight WWMH Tails x Reader in bonus section [Romantic]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs ⚠️ :

Fiercely overprotective behaviour • Slight anger issues • Severe trust issues • Slight delusional mindset • Anxiety • Jealousy • Emotional dependency • Descriptions of bullying • Nine is somewhat snappy

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Nine is a mobian who grew up mainly reclusive throughout his life until you decided to come around. Having dealt with severe bullying alongside the obvious loneliness through the years having caused in quite the instinctive distrust, and the amount of time he’s kept himself isolated in his underground workshop not helping with his antisocial behaviour in the slightest. No matter how the two of you would have met, it’s likely going to start off with you finding yourself intrigued by the nine-tailed presence. Perhaps you are a naturally doting individual, felt mesmerised by the uniqueness of the extra metallic tails, found his aura lure you in, or something else completely; But whatever is was, something you hadn’t realised is that this had caused in unintentional staring, unknowingly pushing attention onto the fox. And Nine, being the rather defensive spirit he is, would immediately assume the worst and take offense to this; resulting in you being cruelly confronted and perhaps even attacked, demanding answers for the unwanted observation. But the harmless intend you had behind your interest was quite literally the last thing he would have expected to occur.

The yellow furred fox has lacked normal interaction for a very long time, so when you start to compliment him to no end, he feels a slight sense of awkwardness, not used to the tender gestures you offered and praise slipping off’ another’s tongue so easily. It made him feel different... yet it somehow gave him a sense of closure with your words in particular. Which was surprising to him to say the least, especially as it had almost made him forget he was literal seconds away from clawing your face open with the metal tips of his tails. He knew he had met oddballs before, but you truly took it to a whole nother level. Though trust still wouldn’t be the exact wording to describe his current state right at that time, as he obviously still holds his suspicions, but your comments had certainly shut him up for a while. He would clam up and just stare at you wide eyed as you excitedly circled your way around him, not knowing what on Mobius to do about this situation. But little did he know that this would be the mere start of a dangerous soft spot starting to develop.

Though you had gotten out of harm’s way at first meeting, unfortunately for your case, this has not stopped him from continuously trying to push you away at first hand; he still thinks you’re weird... Rarely anybody had gone out of their ways to even speak to him if it wasn’t for harassment reasons, much less pamper him like you do-! He’d likely remain to add in on snarky comments, hoping it could scare you off one way or another. But even something that caught up with him over time was the realisation that despite your affectionate demeanour being quite the irritation to him at times, for some damned reason he just couldn’t dare to lay a finger on you with harmful intend. When questioned, he’d often just end up telling you and perhaps even himself that it’s purely due to the fact that you lack fighting experience and are rather delicate for your kind, giving him the opportunity to indirectly insult you once again, even if he realistically just can’t get himself to hurt you.

Another awkward one when it comes to your doting nature, but unaware of the emotional attachment that is slowly starting to form within his own mind. He’d find the growing fixation with you to be strange and uncanny to him, most likely behaving fairly cold torwards you in response, trying to reason with himself. He knows he’s more than capable taking care of himself, so why does he legit feel as if he’s dying when lacking your presence? Even his companionship with Sonic paled in comparison to what he felt torwards you. Over time he’d start noticing how much more numb he operates when you’re not around. Even when including subjects that would usually excite the fox, it’s almost as if it lost all meaning to him. It honestly being a surprise to even him how quickly attached he had gotten

For a certain while, he would even just put the blame on you for creating these changes in him so frequently; feeling as if he could have kept all his focus on a future surrounding his mechanical work until you and your mesmerising tactics came around. But this wouldn’t exactly stick with him for long, cause in the end he would really just put the accountability on himself for not escaping these sentiments while he had the chance, realising it to be irrational to blame you for something out of your control now. Even at this rate, finding himself at a dead end right about now, it really just results in a switch being flipped around inside of him; a little bit of hope wanting to give these said alliances one single try to work out for the both of you.

At first the fascination with you happened to be nothing but guilt-free, it even having been considerable as wholesome in a way. He’d especially invite you over to his workshop a lot, seeming to be incredibly thrilled telling you all about everything he’s learned over the years and show you the latest inventions he’s been working on. It almost had felt as if these moments in particular were slowly starting to recover the inner child of his that he’s lost track off a long time ago. But something you didn’t know about was the unwell side to this that also just so happened to be in growth. You’d find yourself spending more and more time in his workshop, weirdly after Nine had decided upon giving you an one hour talk on why the place was more trustable than any other out there; lecturing you without true purpose and trying to get his said conclusions across. You cannot remember when you’ve last seen the outside world, but you trust Nine. Surely you could take his word for anything ... Right?

He would be especially starved for your praise and appreciation, finding himself melting right on the spot when even just a simple compliment gets tossed his way. When being an individual who is gentle with their wording, he really takes everything that leaves your mouth to heart; but there remains a risky segment to this. Just due to how accustomed he can get to your encouragement, he can easily be put in a state of fraught when the amount of it has been too little for his liking. This also being the exact little push in making him contribute in acts that could potentially be considered as dangerous for as long as it catches your attention. He also gets severely apprehensive and rather uneasy when you need to leave his workplace for personal reasons; his anxiety being very much capable to be pushed torwards a full-on panic attack in no time. This would likely end up in him questioning the point behind their wanted leave and instead offering to do the job for them, which would eerily sound more like a demand than anything else. When the offer is insisted, however; he’ll still go with you, no questions asked, being fearful for your welfare and literally snarling at those who even dare getting too close.

If danger were to fall on you, he would absolutely lose his mind. He’s already naturally protective of those who earned his approval, and he truly expects himself to be ready for anything that could be causing them potential harm; so when a hit still does manage to strike you, it makes him feel distraught and genuinely terrified for once in a while. He believes himself to be pathetic in a way, failing in your safety despite having made a strict promise to himself to keep your fragile self in high priority. He also tends to become extremely discomposed when something like this manages to happen, which would be somewhat surprising to say the least, as he’s usually pretty collected of himself. In a scenario like this he would get on the paranoid side when it comes to your welfare; literally demanding you to remain in Sonic’s eyesight while he takes care of the little nuisance... Despite the connection that’s grown between the two, he wouldn’t even trust Sonic much when it comes to your sake, but it would have to do for now. He’d for sure go out of his way to hunt down whoever the fool was that decided to inflict harm upon you, may that be in secretive or through whatever means; he will get them to be at his mercy and he will make them pay for their unjustified actions. Not giving much care torwards his own physical self and energy levels when it comes to that; avenging you through pure wrath just to prove himself to you.

Despite the aggression tendencies he may experience from time to time, he certainly isn’t one to harm his darling in any way possible. The least that could happen is a screaming outbreak being shown and him acting somewhat snappy torwards you for a day or so, but even these are extremely rare experiences; only really happening if you continuously push his buttons and try to get on his nerves by will. And even so, he just couldn’t get himself to remain mad at you

As mentioned before, other than his overprotective demeanour, Nine honestly just makes himself out to be rather cool and perhaps even cold torwards his darling at first hand, despite it under the surface being much closer to the complete opposite. This also includes in not realising how much it could actually affect both the relationship between one another and perhaps even the darling themselves if they just so happen to be a sensitive soul. But even that little facade of his gets crumbled into bits real fast when one small tiny hunch of you wanting to leave finds itself into the picture. When given the hint that you want a break, he becomes a mess. In a sense of recollection, Nine would overextend himself and work himself to exhaustion in order to get you to come back with him. This often ending up in fighting everything and anyone to obtain items as a peace offering, believing apologies by word to be far too insignificant.

May that not work? He might already just be on the mere verge of snapping himself. He almost becomes a whole nother mobian when out in this state, his emotions and his true instability starting to show. He feels a dreadful sense of desperation, one he absolutely doesn’t wish to remind himself of; but at this stage, he’d honestly take anything as long as it could prevent your leave. He would hunt you down, literally feeling as if he’s on his knees at this point. Overwhelming his darling with the unsanitary desperation lingering in his eyes as his broken tone burns its way through their ear canal, all while practically being pinned to a nearby wall. And when having them cornered like this, he doesn’t even give his darling a way to respond torwards the situation to begin with. Because as much as he wants to deny it, he wouldn’t even take a no as an answer anymore; giving them absolutely zero opportunity to make the choices of their own will and putting an end to the entire conflict finding himself in your arms, despite how you would’ve had a clear expression of both disapproval and discomfort plastered on your face. Honestly making you wonder whenever he truly wasn’t aware of your squirming form under his touch or if was his selfishness who simply made him uncaring torwards it.

Neither of the two being too far out of reach fromout your perspective.

Bonus section #2 : Differences

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To understand the changes they have between one another, it’s important to take note of the one thing that sets them apart from eachother in the first place. It’s accurate the particular state was caused by Sonic not being there for them when they needed it most, but the actual difference between the two would be their eventual responses torwards the mistreatment they’ve faced; ultimately Nine started fighting back all by himself, while for Miles’s case ... he literally snapped. Their current positions in their timelines would hold quite the difference as well; Miles’ mental state being the more unfavourable one out of the two, and having even worsened so as the years went on, while Nine’s weaker side would include his emotional state.

While Miles was closer to wanting to prove his worth to the world in the end, Nine would rather be captivated by the idea of getting back the youth he never had, returning those connections in his life that he’s always lacked. His desperation levels also lingering a lot higher than those of Miles do. But despite this, which may even come by surprise; out of the two, I can still see Nine being the more stable one, genuinely wanting to keep himself on proper levels of behaviour stability and the severity of poor choice making being a whole lot less. Unlike Miles, he knows and understands the differences between wrong and right; and though these could sometimes be infringed due to his emotions taking a toll on him, he deserves a whole lot more credit on atleast trying to keep himself restrained in instability matters. A negative part on his side, however, is how much more dependent emotionally he can become on a darling who holds a sweet demeanour torwards him. Though being one who tends to be calm and mature for his age, due to him having lacked a responsible role model growing up, I can also see him becoming reliant on his darling’s decisions and personal view on things, making him even more vulnerable torwards his obsession.

While Miles would usually just be one to showcase the roots of his thoughts and emotions without a speck of shame or reconsideration noticeable in there, Nine would definitely be the one who’s a whole lot more closeted with how he truly feels. He’s just been hurt so many times that it’s rather become a strong habit for self protection more than anything else, it being no doubt that he has major trust issues to work on. Though right at the same time, both remain to put a lot of faith in their darling, but for different reasons. Nine’s high hopes laying torwards the beliefs that his darling won’t just betray and leave him behind with the reliance he has on them, while Miles’ complexity rather being his trust that his darling shall be able to purify the unfair planet, much like he believes that they did to him.

An important opportunity Miles never got was much like with Sonic, Nine would specifically offer you the creation of a world with just the two of you, except this time it would very much be by will. A place where he’ll finally be happy and given the freedom he never had, one where absolutely nobody can seperate the both of you or bring your life into any considered danger. One where he could completely put his fate into your bare hands. A place better than New Yoke City or even Green Hill or any other universe could ever be-! No matter how long the both of you would have moved on from past occurrences surrounding the Prism Shard, Nine remains to be on edge ever since, as he surely doesn’t trust any dimension out there to be good enough for your sake. The only suggestion seeming to be acceptable to him being a world created from his own hands, truly believing you to desire the exact same thing.

Making him not understand why the tears keep rolling down your cheeks in acknowledgement to his masterwork.

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[midnightluck]

i am BEGGING you for those aventurine essays he is legit my fav star rail character

WELCOME TO MY NEW FAVORITE PIT IT'S BEAUTIFUL HERE.

Current essays (full of spoilers) I have already written out:

Why Aventurine is Preservation path and why he doesn't lose (see below)

An analysis of Ratio and Aventurine's interactions on Penacony

An analysis of Aventurine's planning and execution of said plan for 2.1

Why Avigen are Rom-coded and how Aventurine uses his own culture to hurt himself

Aventurine and the Masked Fools

Essays I have not written but intend to:

The incredible level of self-loathing it takes to call yourself a luck build when you only ever gamble against yourself and the inability to trust that it creates

The difference between stage magic and flourishwork and an analysis of the techniques and props he uses, including why he prefers roulette to cards

Presentation!!! The way he dresses and moves and uses his reputation as a weapon

Topaz and Aventurine's friendship and why they would never call each other friends

Literally anything people wanna know about him

That said, let's get started on why, exactly, Aventurine could never be anything but Preservation. SPOILERS!!!!

OKAY so let's discuss

I would like to begin by reminding you that Qlipoth is a Aeon of "patient, sacrificial, and protective actions", and I don't think I need to go into why Aventurine is the first two BUT I'M GONNA.

Patient--yes, duh. The amount of time it takes to set up stuff behind the scenes before you can even announce a performance--we've seen this from him already. He called Topaz directly after we left Belobog for her help specifically, which we can now assume was him asking to borrow her stone. This means that he had his plan already developed months in advance, and this is confirmed by him sighing over how long it took him to book this specific room in the hotel. Aventurine is patient in that most deadly of ways, the focused strategist mixed with the cunning tactician. He gets impatient, we've seen, but in that anticipatory way that comes from the fizzle of excitement in your veins before a performance, the jitters that aren't quite stage fright but aren't quite excitement, when your blood feels carbonated and your stomach flips because you know it's all in place, you know you've got this, but what if, what if-- and even in the face of that, he's patient.

Sacrificial let's take in two ways. Does he sacrifice? Yes, this man refuses to stop, refuses to accept peace, refuses to settle. He's giving up his own happiness because he knows that happiness isn't for the likes of him and he knows this so deeply he's never even bothered to want it. Aventurine isn't happy, he's unsettled in the most literal way, and he's unbothered by it because he isn't chasing a dream. He's not working toward an ambition, he's not after a goal; he's just living because he isn't dead yet, because he refuses to give up and lay down. He is the embodiment of "because I could not stop for Death, he kindly stopped for me," and is, in other words, #relatable to millenials haha.

He's also sacrificial. As a child of ritual, of expectation, and of the embodiment of hope, Kakavasha was born to be the hope of his people and he never got a say in it. He now carries their entire weight and culture on his shoulders because he's the only Avigen on the universal stage, and it hurts more because he barely even had time to truly learn what that culture was before it was taken from him. He probably considers his continued life as penance, as sacrifice, as the payment for his luck which didn't even help anyone he loved anyway.

And then we get to the hard one because people define protective in a very, uh, selfless context mostly? But it's not, or not only that. Aventurine is very protective; he's protective of his past, of his secrets, of his plans, of that which is his. (Sidenote here: money isn't his. Money is a resource, easily gotten, easily spent; gold and jewels and even status are ephemeral. We see this in that fucking bit of dialogue I LOVE ("I can, and it will be flawless" YAS KING IT SURE THE FUCK WILL!!!!), that he doesn't care for the treasure or the mystery, that he's after the role, the action, the thrill of being right, of wagering his life on the bet that he's right and that it's not death that awaits him.

So that's why he's Preservation, is because he could never be anything else. He's not driven, so it can't be Hunt, and he's not careless and instinctive, so no Elation (ask me about his relationship with Masked Fools sometime, I have THOUGHTS). He doesn't seek pain or to sacrifice for others and his wrath is very focused, so no Destruction, and he's not Abundance by any means, and Harmony is out because that's cooperative and unifying and he can't trust. Remeberance is restraint and he doesn't have that, and Nihility is for those who have given up on something, and Aven hasn't, he can't let his past go like Welt has, and all that leaves is Erudition. It suits him but it's offensive, and he isn't, is he, he's so internally focused on playing his little games against himself that he doesn't seek out multiple targets, and also he's not coldly detached; he's powered by self-loathing and that doesn't jive with Erudition, which is reliant on chosen loyalty and seeking.

IMPORTANT DISTINCTION: self-loathing is not self-destructive. Self-esteem and self-worth are not the same thing, and you can hate yourself just fine while still seeing value in what you do. Speaking of which, let's examine that thing he do, which is just straight up setting up giant convoluted plans in order to specifically bet his life on things. HERE'S WHY.

If you bet money and you lose, then you lose, and Aventurine doesn't lose. Aventurine goes for the high stakes, high risk shit because of the risk, because of the stakes. He's chasing death in an abstracted kind of way; he doesn't want to die, but he doesn't value his life and there's not much worth living for anyway. He's also, as previously stated, the only embodiment of his culture, so he can't lose without it reflecting on...everyone, even if they're all dead. The only respectable way he can die as an Avigen is to die in a gamble.

So any gamble with his life on the line is win-win, and god isn't that adrenaline rush of standing on the ledge and jumping good, doesn't that make his pulse pound and his lungs stutter and his fingers shake, in a way that he can feel, physically, that he can know is him, is only him, alive, reliant on his own power, his own fate, his own skill, and on his luck--

Because that's the thing, isn't it, is Aventurine is lucky, but not in the way Kakavasha was. As a kid, he relied on his luck; after it betrayed him (by leaving him the only one left), he doesn't rely on it anymore. He uses it. He puts in time and patience and skill, and he stacks the deck and sets the dice and gambles that he is smart enough to have anticipated it. He's betting that he's prepared enough to weather the uncertainty. Aventurine isn't playing against us, or Ratio, or Penacony; the only one he's ever really betting against is himself.

[hereforthefanficsandromance]

The Way He Looks at You Series I:V

Act I: The Way He Looks at You Chapter 5: The Way He Hears You

Read on AO3 Read on Blogger Read on Tumblr Story Master List: The Way He Looks at You Series

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Chapter Summary

You are finally brought to Cal's private quarters, but there is doubt in your mind of the choices you have made. Rating: 18+ Words: 2.6K

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The ship makes its descent onto the darkening planet below and your heart hammers. This moment feels so permanent, and you have doubts about following Cal when he had given you a choice. You shouldn’t be here, you should have restarted somewhere beautiful and led a normal life, alone.

This morning feels like a lifetime ago and you try to reconcile with how quickly you went from being the girlfriend of a Jedi to the, something, of an Inquisitor. You aren’t even sure what you are to Cal, perhaps a glorified pet. The closer you get to the landing pad of the tower below, the less sure you are about any decision you’ve made since being orphaned.

Your body trembles again and you feel nauseous from the anxiety. The ship finally touches down and your teeth chatter. Everything feels cold and terrifying at this moment. Your numb fingers release the safety straps and you stand, your face washed of all color.

Cal is already standing watching you, he hasn’t yet lowered the loading door. He approaches you; you aren’t sure if his expression is annoyance or concern. As his body nears yours, he places his hands on your shoulders and lowers his head to eye level.

“Fear is to be expected, few outsiders see this place, and fewer survive. Do not allow your mind to be the reason that you join the majority.” He says, his words have a hint of concern. He then reaches behind your head to raise the hood of your cloak, placing it on your head, low enough to block your face.

“Yes, Cal, I’ll remember the training you provided.” You say shakily. Taking a deep breath, you try to remind yourself of each intimate interaction that Cal has provided.

The loading door lowers and once it is firmly on the ground Cal walks down the ramp, you stay close on his heels. The hood blocks out most of the surroundings and you wonder if that was actually Cal’s plan, to reduce the input of the terrifying outside world. He has shown you an odd amount of kindness for an Inquisitor, and it wouldn’t surprise you if many of his actions were secretly for your benefit.

He leads you from the landing pad onto a bridge that connects to the tower. The city is far below and the wind whips your cloak around your ankles. Your hands reach up to tug the hood down, preventing it from being forced off your head.

Cal leads you towards a large metal door that slides open as he nears. Once inside, the door closes and the howling wind finally stops. You hear footsteps echo through the room as someone approaches; you don’t dare look up to identify them.

“Thirteenth Brother! I assume the mission went well since you brought something to celebrate with?” A familiar voice, but not the one you feared.

“Fifth Brother, yes as planned.” Cal replies curtly.

“Why not visit the whores in the city?” The Fifth Brother says in a cruel tone. “Or do you intend to share?”

“I have no interest in laying with filth in the city. I’d rather keep what is mine in my own quarters.” Cal replies, his voice emphasizes the word ‘mine,’ as he speaks.

“Of course.” The Fifth Brother says, unconvinced. “It seems odd for you. Don’t you usually just take what you want on your ship and leave? Is she really worth bedding twice?”

There is a twist of pain in your heart at the knowledge that Cal has been with lots of women on his ship. You feel disgusted knowing that you likely sat in the same seats as his other conquests. You can’t help but imagine a variety of women riding him in his pilot’s seat. The same seat where he denied you.

Then it hits you, he denied you. He said that ‘none of your firsts will happen on his ship.’ It makes you feel oddly happy to be given such special treatment. It feels like you somehow matter more, like he desires you and only you. A warm and fuzzy feeling soothes your previous anxiety.

“Fifth Brother, are you implying that I should not give into my desires?” Cal retorts.

“Of course not, but I am extremely curious as to the identity of this woman.” The Fifth Brother responds and you hear his footsteps approaching you.

Once he stands before you, he angles down to the left to see under your hood. His tilted green face becomes visible and his eyes meet yours. Your eyes widen and you raise your head, standing to your full height. The Fifth Brother stands with you and uses the Force to knock your hood backwards exposing your face to the room.

You freeze as his eyes travel over your body; you fight the need to shift under his gaze, repulsed by the hunger in his eyes as he looks at you. It’s nothing like how Cal looks at you, Cal’s gaze feels focused and dedicated. But this one feels dangerous, predatory.

“I can see why you picked her.” He leers at the exposed skin between your breasts. “Where did you find her?”

“She made the unfortunate mistake of bumping into me, retribution is required for insulting an Inquisitor.” Cal says, “Her looks saved her life, but now that life belongs to me.” The way he speaks of you is cold and unpleasant.

You almost believe he feels nothing for you, but every action has proved otherwise. It’s clear that he is protecting you at this moment. Disregarding the worth of your life, but still staking his claim. You feel at ease from the underlying threats in his words. Despite how the Fifth Brother is looking you over, you know he will not cross Cal.

Cal sighs audibly, “If you’ll excuse me, I will be retiring for the night.” He looks into your eyes, “Come.” He then turns to walk swiftly towards a hallway at the far end of the room. You bow your head at the Fifth Brother before turning to catch up to Cal.

The walk is silent other than the sound of his boots on the tile. Your own boots are much quieter, designed for sneaking. You never realized that the volume of one's shoes could show their power. You think of when hearing the boots of an Inquisitor would strike fear into your heart. In this moment, the sound doesn't scare you; it arouses you to hear his authority.

Cal leads you through a series of long hallways and up several staircases. Finally reaching a set of double doors at the end of a shorter hallway. He presses a series of buttons on the keypad to the right and you hear the door unlock. He turns the handle and enters the dark room, holding the door for you to follow. As you enter, he turns on the lights and there is a small sitting room with a couch and two chairs. It is nothing special and obviously meant for the possibility of conversations behind closed doors.

The lock slides back into place as Cal seals the door. You let out a breath and your shoulders relax. You quickly see another door at the back of the room, you assume that is where the rest of the private quarters are. Cal steps to your side and places a guiding hand on the small of you back, over your cloak. He leads you through the formal room to pull the next door open and stands to the side, allowing you to pass first. His demeanor obviously changes now that you are out of sight of others.

Entering through the second door leaves you standing in a small entryway, Cal follows you inside and closes the door behind you both, locking this one as well. You feel at ease knowing there are two locked doors protecting you from the rest of the Inquisitors.

You are only beginning to look around the room when you feel Cal’s hands reach around you from behind, his fingers unclasping your cloak. The cloak doesn’t fall to the floor this time as Cal catches it in his left hand. Without distancing his body from yours, he reaches back and places the cloak on a nearby hook. His right hand remains at the base of your throat, fingers dancing on the skin between your collarbones. You breathe slowly, worried that if you make too much noise that he may stop.

His left hand returns to your body and he gently pulls the hair off your right shoulder, draping it onto the other side. Cal traces whispers of patterns on the skin of your neck, sliding upwards until his hand wraps around the top of your throat. He applies no pressure, but hesitates as if trying to decide something. The decision is obvious when he slides back down your throat trailing his fingers down your chest at an agonizing pace.

“What am I to you?” the words exit your lips before you can stop them. It is frustrating that you would choose to ruin the moment, but the doubt in your mind is growing. The danger of being here, how quickly everything has escalated, it’s finally catching up and you need reassurance.

Cal’s hand hesitates for a moment, but to your surprise he continues gliding his hand down the exposed skin towards your stomach. “Is this about my conversation with the Fifth Brother?” he asks.

“I’m not sure, I don’t know who I am or where I stand in the galaxy right now. Everything is so different from yesterday.” You say, trying to find the right words.

“I should tell you who you are?” Cal inquires. His hands move to grip your hips and he places a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, causing you to close your eyes.

“I think I need your guidance, you forbid my old life, my name, everything. I do not know who I’m supposed to be now.” You mumble.

“You are obedient, lustful, and often sad. Everything else I know about you is from a life I choose not to believe exists.” Cal says into your neck. “Does that give you the labels that you require?”

You sigh, unsure what to say to get the answers you need. You are grateful that Cal has pretended there aren’t valuable secrets in your head. That he will look past them in exchange for your loyalty. It just feels impossible to move through life without so much as a name.

Cal releases your hips and instead takes your hand, leading you towards the window on the far side of the room. You look down at the city below, it’s beautiful but a reminder of how the Empire views civilians, as beneath them. You spent your life fighting against their new order just to join it in a moment of desperation.

Cal is observing you, likely listening to each thought in your mind. He finally speaks, “You told me earlier that you wish to feel desired. You clarified that also includes being touched, kissed, fucked, and used. I have only delivered on two of those desires.” He says, the words sounding filthy as they come from his lips.

“Maybe I desire more than that?” You ask and turn to look at him, his eyes tinged with hunger. You feel your chest tighten as breathing becomes more difficult.

“Perhaps.” He says, unconvinced. “I have an offer for you. If being near me is truly not what you want. I will allow you to leave tomorrow morning at dawn. I will help you and ensure that you are in no immediate danger as you choose your own path.”

His words surprise you, it seems highly unlikely that he would give you additional opportunities to leave. Part of you feels disappointed at the thought of leaving permanently. Knowing you would never feel his touch again, but you would become someone. Able to find a new purpose in this world.

Finding purpose doesn’t feel like what your heart longs for. Then you realize you want to belong again. There was belonging in your family and in your relationship with Theo, that feeling was a great comfort. If you left, you could find someone new who could provide that sense of belonging. You could belong to someone, and maybe even belong in a family of your own.

Cal’s eyes darken when you think of finding someone new. He speaks again, “I will let you go, but you must allow me to fulfill the remaining desires you had shared. Then you may make your decision. However, if you still choose to leave, know that any information I’ve learned will not remain protected. Stay, and what is unspoken will remain that way. That is my offer.”

Your eyes go wide and your heart beats hard as adrenaline courses through your veins. There was a catch. Leaving means Cal has no reason to protect the secrets that he knows, Theo and many more in the Rebellion would be in danger.

“Freedom comes at a price.” Cal says, “but it is unlikely that you will risk the lives of others after tonight. I intend to make the choice an easy one.”

You suck in a breath at his promise. There is no loss in waiting until dawn to decide, the hard decision will come after. And you would like to come now. “I agree to your offer.”

Cal’s lips curl into a smile, but the intensity of his eyes remains. “Very good.” He praises.

He moves slowly to stand directly in front of you. He places a finger under your chin while his other hand pulls you close around the waist. Cal tilts your head to look up at him. Your hands grip the fabric of his uniform and you press your body into his, wanting to be close.

“Desired, touched, kissed, fucked, and used.” He says, remembering the order. “I will use every second from now until dawn to give you those desires. There will be no stopping until we see the sun.”

Your heart leaps at the implications, realizing that you are at his mercy. “Until we see the sun, I am yours.”

He leans in, lips barely brushing yours as he speaks, “You are like the moon.” Cal’s words are low and quiet, his eyes full of lust as he looks down at you. “I have desired you and I have touched you.”

The words cause you to realize what is coming next, and you know this time denial is unlikely. You tip your head ever so slightly to encourage his next move. “Cal,” you say in barely a whisper.

“Mine.” He breathes as his lips connect with yours.

Your eyes flutter closed at the contact and you are barely capable of thought. Your mouth opens slightly as Cal presses one of his lips between yours, sucking on your bottom lip. You kiss him back eagerly and moan at the sensation. His tongue licks along the now swollen flesh before releasing it from his mouth. His lips move against yours with great need.

You open your mouth craving more and he licks gently at your tongue, stroking it expertly. His right hand moves from your chin to tangle into your hair, pulling you closer as he explores your mouth. Your hands reach up to wrap around his neck, trying to keep him in this moment.

Cal pulls away from the kiss gently but keeps his face near. You try to lean in and kiss him again but he pulls back, just out of reach. “We must move to the next desire, I only have until sunrise. The next two will require much time.”

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Need to Rant with Others Who Have Read This Story?

Join My Discord It's free! Members get updates, sneak peaks, bonus content, events, and countdowns to new chapters. We'd love to have you, even if you just lurk!

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Love/Like/Hate What You Read?

Comment (please!) on AO3 or Blogger Anonymous/Comment/Message/Reblog on Tumblr Compliments feed me Constructive Criticism improves me

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Next Chapter: The Way He Denies You

[pumpkincarriage3]

Ruggie Bucchi Character Analysis

I adore Ruggie, he's just so scruffy? If that makes sense. And yes I know that rhymes, no it wasn't intentional. Moving on --

Technically, we meet Ruggie (as well as Leona), in the first chapter of the game. But we don't start interacting with him until the second and third chapter (mainly the second chapter). We first see him when he goes to bug Leona about his classes, if memory serves, unintentionally saving both Yuu and Grimm.

(I'm sure Ruggie actually knew what was going on, beastmen, from what we are shown in game, having both enhanced hearing and spatial awareness. I just highly doubt he did what he did to save Yuu and Grimm, rather just that he noticed that Leona was awake and was planning on taking advantage of it.)

It's highly implied that Ruggie grew up and lives in the slums, or a close variation of thereof. Ruggie, at some points himself, say that Hyena beastmen are looked down upon, so this is probably part of the cause for his living situation. Ruggie himself is defined by his will to survive and strike opportunity.

An example of this is all of the jobs he partakes in. Sure, he helps Leona because he gets paid, but he doesn't just help out Leona. His Ceremional Robes Vignette shows that he also takes up odd jobs around the school when he can for more money. He's Halloween Vignette also shows him discussing all of the different jobs that he's had, the reason why he's multilingual.

However, the interesting thing about him having had so many jobs is that none of them were stable. And all of them would have had to have been okay with hiring children. Considering the fact that we know that Ruggie has "sticky fingers", its safe to say he probably got a job for money when he could, but when that wasn't an opportunity, he would steal. I assume the reason that none of the jobs were stable was either because he was a child or the fact that he's a hyena beastman or both. Though, if it is because he's a hyena beastman (as said before, people look down on hyena beastmen for whatever reason), than that would explain why Ruggie never imagined he would be able to go to NRC. (This is said in some of his leveling up card lines). Which means he fully expected to be stuck living the way that he had been his entire life, which is a dark thought to consider since its clear Ruggie has never had much.

It's why Ruggie can be so greedy. He's never had much, so he when he has the opportunity to get more, he takes as much as he possible can because he doesn't know when the opportunity will arise again. But that's also why he's relationship with Leona is interesting, even if you are just looking at it business wise, because its a stable job. A stable source of income.

Ruggie knows its stable, showing this by the fact that he doesn't feel the need to bow down towards Leona. We've even seen him steal some of Leona's stuff (An example of this is in Camp Vargus, Leona didn't seem to care much, instead looking extremely smug when he called Ruggie out on his actions). And this is because he knows it's a stable job (either this be because he knows no one else will put up with Leona, or a different reason entirely), at least while him and Leona are in school together. So, why it's stable, he's taking as much advantage as he can from it (because it'll end once he and Leona are no longer in school together, but it still seams to be a much more stable job that his other ones). Because he's greedy. And he's greedy because that's been the way that he's even survived.

Because Ruggie isn't someone that's a heartless, greedy person. In particular, clear evidence of this is when the characters are going home for break and Ruggie is caring a bunch of free food back with him. Food that he fully intends on sharing with the kids that live around him. It's also highly possible that the reason Ruggie doesn't have much even though he is working for Leona, and occasionally other jobs, is because he might be sending that money back to his family so they have the money to eat. Ruggie, is surprisingly a very family-oriented person.

He can also be insecure at times. Not in the way that Deuce is about his intelligence. And not in anyway to do with his physical appearance. But more so in the way that he's extremely aware of how hyena beastmen are viewed, and because of that he doesn't expect to make it anywhere big. But NRC has given him the opportunity to make something of himself. For him to get out of the caste system he was born in, even if people look down on his species. He's very aware of people and how they view him and the way that effects his opportunities. I use the words insecure, because in his leveling up lines he says he never expected to make it to somewhere like NRC. Or maybe insecure isn't the right word, but rather that he's sensitive to the way that people react to that particular information?

Aside from that, Ruggie can also be a rather playful individual. Which might be because there's a bunch of kids back home that he watches over and at times takes care of. It might explain why he keeps an "up-beat attitude" and isn't typically seen to be shown in a somber mood around others. Or maybe its because he doesn't to give people the opportunity to see while he's down either. He's a very shrewd person after all.

[piffany666]

Ok just one more punk progeny won't hurt ~

Chapter 3: consent (part 2)

(Disclaimer: treasure and Bright eyes are the same person in this fic so just assume 3 things before reading, 1: Bright knows Porter is a vampire and vise versa, 2: I can't afford patrion but I do know what happend In the BA so if you have seen it just assume that they did bite each other they just didn't drink each others blood, 3: Bright dosnt know that Porter is a solaire. Got it? Ok)

TW. Mentions of mental health issues, abandonment issues and Foster care. Bright is ftm trans and uses he/him pronouns

Vincent and Bright had interacted before but not enough for Vincent to not feel nervous about talking to him. Especially about this.

William had told him what happened with Bright and that his answer was that he'd 'think about it'.

Now obviously Vincent wasn't going to sway him one way or the other,

But William had given him the vampire equivalent of 'dad's belt' for gossiping and causing that meeting with Bright to happen earlier than expected.

Besides, Vincent saw how egger William was to take in Bright so he just wanted to show Bright just how sweet this deal could be for him.

If he could just pluck up the courage to just walk over to him!

Just then, Vincent noticed Bright was stretching and groaning in a way that suggested he was stiff or in pain.

The perfect conversion starter.

"Ruff night?"

Bright turned his head towards him.

"Hmm? No actually, I had a great night"

He said this but still stretched out across the common room's couch.

Vincent knew what that meant, of course he did, he was Vincent!

"Yeah?~"

He didn't know where this 'small talk' was going but he was genuinely intrigued.

"Yeah. Went out, fully intended on getting wasted after a long and confusing day but then ran into some old friends and I hate getting drunk in front of people I know, so I got stuck as their double D-"

"Their what?"

"Double D, designated driver"

"Oooohh! OK continue"

"So yeah I got stuck, sober, then all of a sudden this guy comes up to me, lays it on real thick, so we started talking and I'm sure you of all people can figure out what happened after that"

"Wow good for you"

Bright hadn't told anyone this but he had met some of his and Fred's old friends from before....yeah.

You'd think they would have been a little bit concerned considering he and Fred had been 'missing' for ages now, but no.

When he finally sees his old 'friends' again....they didn't even care.

And yet, he still felt like he owed them for leaving and never coming back, so that's why he endured being their DD.

But a certain someone recently taught him that he didn't need to do that anymore.~

"He was also a vampire, which was kinda cool"

"Well I'm glad your mingling with vampires other than Sam and Fred"

There was a moment of silence between the two but then Vincent reminded himself of why he started talking to him in the first place.

"Speaking of mingling with other vampires, I heard about what happened with William"

Bright didn't answer

"And I also know I'm kinda what caused it so I came over here to apologise, it wasn't my news to tell, I'm sorry"

Bright's face went a lot colder than it was before but he still answered him, only he didn't look him in the eyes.

"It's cool, whatever..."

"Well I got the vampire equivalent of 'dad's belt' for gossiping about it so I thought I'd make it up to you"

Bright's face sofend with curiosity.

Vincent continued

"I thought it would be a good idea if I showed you what perks being a solaire Prince comes with"

"Wait-wait-wait!....Prince?"

Vincent held back a smirk.

"Yeah, William is the vampire king so becoming his progeny would make you a Prince, like me. I mean he's not your maker so you probably won't have the same level status as me or alexis but you'll still be classed as 'Prince'".

Bright eyes stared, starstruck. He remembered being a kid, running around with the "other girls" who were all dressed up like princesses, laughing and screaming with him chasing after them. He got yelled at for it later but he just didn't want to be a Princess.

He wanted to be a Prince.

And now, years later, literally after death,

He can be.

"Huh....I guess I never realised that..."

"Well It can be pretty cool, and since your considering it, I thought I'd give you a rundown on what it's like"

"What dose that mean...?"

"It basically just means,

Do you wanna go shopping with me?"

Vincent realised that this was a really long winded way of asking him that.

Bright then looked dead serious and got up from the couch, looked him in the eyes and said

"Vincent, I'm a gay, trans man who grew up with f*k all money

Of course I want to go shopping with you".

"Isn't she gorgeous?"

Bright looked In awe at the car Vincent was showing him.

He whistled

"Sweet ride"

"I know!"

He was smiling ear to ear.

"Wanna ride IN it?"

Vincent jingled the keys

"Can I drive?"

After Bright asked that, Vincent no short of belly laughed.

It took him a moment to pull himself together, but when he eventually managed to stop laughing he looked at Bright and coldly said

"NO"

Vincent opened the car and Bright slid in after him.

The sun had just gone down.

Bright still hadn't gotten used to the whole 'sleep-all-day-and-stay-up-all-night' deal. Usually he was a master at the 'stay-up-all-night' part but not so much the latter.

And considering what happened last night...let's just say he wasn't exactly 'Bright eyed and bushy tailed'.

"Could we get coffee while we're there (Wherever we're going)"

"Yeah of course"

Vincent wanted to avoid awkward silence as much as possible, he also genuinely wanted to get to know him, the real him.

Not the one Sam had told him about.

Besides

It could be cool...having a little brother.

"Sooo...your 'thinking about' being William's progeny?"

"Yep"

.....

"Can I ask why?"

Bright sighed

"Well it's like this, I hate being Sam's progeny, it sucks! Nothing I do is ever enough and whenever I get mad or frustrated that I'll never be as good a vampire as Fred HE gets mad at ME because it's my fault...its all my fault...

But it's not like I don't know that and it's not like apologising is gonna fix anything...."

Vincent took a moment to take all this in.

From what Sam had told him, Bright was just a punk with a bad attitude who couldn't accept the blame for what happened at wonderworld and was a jerk to everyone.

But that's not what Vincent saw.

He just saw himself.

Or who he used to be.

Bright had accepted that what happened was his fault, he just didn't think apologising would do anything.

"So...why not take the offer right away?"

He really didn't want to seem like he was trying to swing him one way or the other, he just wanted to know why he wouldn't, since he hated Sam and Fred so much.

"Because....im used to being passed around from person to person, I hate it. I don't want to be reminded of that feeling again. Especially if William at some point figure's out that I'm not the little broken kid he clearly thinks I am, cos to be honest,

I really am the worst"

.....

"What do you mean...your used to it?"

"Oh! I'm a Foster kid"

He said this much more casually than he did just previous statement.

That did make a lot of sense to Vincent though, and it did clear up a lot. However his reason for why he won't take up William's offer was... worrying.

But low self esteem was definitely something William could help with.

Most of Bright's problems could probably be solved by this agreement.

But that wasn't for Vincent to say.

"Well...im sorry"

"Don't be, its cool......your cool"

Vincent looked at him but he was facing the window

He chuckled.

"So what did you think of William?"

Bright perked up but then looked embarrassed

"Hes cool too..."

"Uh huh, hes been known to have this...power over 'troubled vampire youth'"

Bright scoffed

"I guess...there was just something about him that made me want to-"

"Trust him? Respect him?"

"Yeah! What's up with that?! Does he have like a....genetic dominance over other vampires or something?! I respect NO ONE THAT quickly!"

Vincent began laughing at his sudden outburst

"No, hes just kinda...like that I guess. It pissed me off SO much when I first became his progeny, but you don't seem as upset about it"

"Yeah well...its like I said

He was cool".

Vincent wanted to go on but by now they had reached the parking spot of their location.

"OK looks like we're here, get out"

They both left the car, Bright waited by the car as Vincent paid for the spot.

It looked like this was a regular spot for him

And probably Lovely too, thought Bright.

When Vincent came back from paying, Bright and him walked into the mall.

"So, coffee,"

"Oh god yes"

As soon as they stepped into the building, a Starbucks was waiting for them.

Bright practically ran up to it, put his hands on the counter and asked for a caramel macchiato with as many shots as they were legally allowed to put in.

When Vincent caught up to him he made his order and sat down at the nearest table, Bright joined him.

"So, based on that order I'm guessing the whole 'up all night and sleep all day' thing has been kicking your ass?"

"Keen observation, but aren't we suppose to not talk about that sort of stuff in public?"

Vincent shrugged then gestured towards their surroundings

"Bright, look around, it's getting late and no one is here! Besides vampires have....culturally been known to ummm not ignore covert but....bend the rules a lil"

"Huh...?"

"It's like that one bad stereotype that is completely true"

"Here are your orders guys!"

The batista gave them their drinks after they both thanked her.

They took a minute of silence just to indulge in their drink of choice.

Vincent was way more comfortable around Bright then he was before actually getting to know him.

From what Sam had said, he had assumed he'd be more....hostile....? But he wasn't, he was just like any other newborn but with the added angst of abandonment issues and god knows what else.

After Bright had taken a few sips he looked up at Vincent

"So what's the actual plan here? Like yeah we're at the mall but WHERE are we going?"

"Well I just thought we'd hit my usual spots, clothes shopping, maybe get some snacks and then head down to 711 or something"

Bright nodded.

"OK so basically everything you do with Lovely? Got it"

"Y-yeahh but please don't phrase it like that, it would be a lil weird considering who you would be to me if you agree"

Bright shot him a look of confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Well" Vincent took another sip from his coffee "there's this general consensus that a mentor is supposed to act as a parental figure to their progeny, which means there progenys are kinda like siblings, at least that's how most of us view it...thats how I view it"

Bright paused. He had had many 'parental figures' throughout his life, none of them were ever permanent or knew how to handle him and his attitude.....why would this be any different?

He had also, as a result, had many siblings, but next to all of them were younger than him and if they weren't they were always older sisters.

He'd never had an older brother before.

"So...William's like your dad?"

"Yeah but just don't ever call him 'father' ok?"

Vincent seemed serious, it made Bright eyes a little nervous

"O-ok why?"

"He gets super defensive about how he's not a father"

"O-oh, yeah, right"

Bright's head hung a little but he didn't know why.

He didn't want another failed attempt at a father figure to be added to the list so why was he-

Vincent interrupted his train of thought when he tilted his head down to be at eye level with Bright

"But he IS like a 'dad' he will always tell you that".

Bright's head perked back up, still not knowing quite why

"But thats only if you agree that is now come on you can finish that on the way, I have a shopping craze that needs to be satisfied"

Bright got up, sipping his coffee along the way, then a smirk crawled on his face as a thought popped into his head.

"Hey you got turned when you were like 2 years older than me right?"

Vincent looked back at him, worried where this conversation was going.

"Y-Yeah why?"

The smirk got wider

"So do you shop at forever 21?"

After saying this he bust out laughing

"Oh you lil shit come here!"

Vincent said playfully.

He lunged for him but Bright ducked and ran, Vincent followed on.

There was basically on one there, it was like back in the old days when Bright and Fred would check out abandoned buildings together.

For the first time in ages, Bright didn't let that memory bother him, he just ran and howled playfully with Vincent on his tail.

And it was awesome.

After a while the two got out of breath, but Vincent caught up to him and not very hard and with little effort, pushed him to the ground.

They both just laughed for a moment, Bright still on the floor.

"OK OK you've had your fun, now come on, up"

He extended his hand towards him but he got up without it, not in any rude way Vincent just figured he didn't need help.

"So we ran past a couple of the shops I had in mind, wanna WALK back to them?"

"Yeah sure"

They went into the first clothing shop they saw and started browsing.

After a while, Vincent noticed Bright trying on a couple of accessories, chains, hats, shades ect.

"You thinkn of actually buying some of those?"

"Oh god no, some of these prices could pay for the second half of my surgery, I could never afford this!"

A smirk crawled on Vincent's face, he had been waiting for this moment.

"Oh, you think YOU'RE paying for these?"

Bright's head turned towards him so fast the shades he was wearing fell off his head and onto his face, covering his eyes.

He slowly lifted them back up then asked

"Come again?"

Vincent then reached into his wallet and pulled out what could only be described as a 'fan of credit and debit cards'.

Bright was flabbergasted.

"Dare I even ask? You aren't a stripper are you?"

Vincent gave a one note laugh.

"Ha! No no no this is just a solaire thing. What you didn't think Prince was synonymous with rich?"

Bright pulled himself together and stepped closer to him and sheepishly took one of the cards and went up to the desk to pay for the accessories he had on.

Vincent watched on and smiled to himself.

After no short of ransacking as many places as they wanted, the two left the mall but left the car where it was.

"Umm, what about your car?"

"Hm? Oh! Were just going around the corner"

It was pich black outside, when they turned a corner the only sorce of light....was the 711 stood before them.

It looked almost holy and it might as well have been with the way Vincent was gazing at it.

After a moment of watching Vincent bask in its glory, Bright felt a sharp pull on his sleeve and was pulled into the store.

Bright didn't exactly appreciate being pulled around so when they passed the threshold, he snatched his hand back.

"OK JD keep your pants on, it's just 711"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that because I've enjoyed our night so far. Now follow me"

"OK but I can walk on my own"

Bright followed him through the aisle, 'freeze your brain' now firmly stuck in his head.

Coincidentally enough, when Vincent stopped, Bright was met with the infamous slushy machine.

"You literally dragged me here...for slushys?"

"No I did not 'JuSt DrAg YoU oUt HeRe FoR sLuShYs' I brought you here to enjoy some ice cold liquid gold, after a long and and eventful night! Now pick your flavour, come meet me at the counter and go outside so we can sit on the sidewalk and chill!"

"OK OK, gezz"

Bright picked up a cup and pressed the blue raspberry and cola flavours.

Vincent went round the corner to get more snacks so Bright did what he was told and went up to the counter.

Vincent came back with his 'supplies' and slushy in hand.

He paid and they both went outside.

Vincent took a big gulp (hehe) of his slushy and listened to the silence for a while.

Until Bright eyes spoke up

"Do you think I should do it?"

"Do what...?"

"Agree to be William's progeny?"

Vincent hesitated.

He did have a lot of fun today, Bright wasn't a bad kid and he could tell that William liked him a lot.

But this wasn't about him.

"Well...I know you and Sam don't get along, I also know that kind of person William is and yeah being a solaire dose come with its perks

But I don't think I should sway you one way or the other.

Listen, I know this must sound bullshit but when I was first turned by him, I was so much like you that it kinda scares me"

"Oh f*k off"

"No, I'm serious. I had the same realationship with William as you have with Sam. So if I were you, knowing what I know now, I'd stay with Sam....but I'm not you and I don't think that thats really what you want"

Bright sighed and took a swig of his slushy.

"Yeah well...I think I'm still gonna marinate on it, ask around a bit maybe get to know you guys better"

"That sounds good"

That's way more than I did, thought Vincent.

"It's so funny to me, you'd think me and Sam would get along better considering how much we have in common"

At first Vincent thought he was being sarcastic but then he thought about it, then he asked

"Wait.....what are you talking about?"

"Oh yeah I forgot everyone leaves this part out....

You know what happend in wonderworld right? Sam told you?"

"Y-yeah"

"Well...you know that he was turned by Sam and that Fred turned me but what no one seems to know or care about.....is that I didn't want him to. I wanted him to stop. I didnt know exactly what he was doing but I couldn't. Make him. Stop.

Who knew being turned without consent was a big 'no no' am I right? I only found that out after it happened. Anyway its getting late or I suppose early, I can finish this I the car, you coming to or what?"

Bright stood up and walked towards the car but Vincent just sat there trying to take in everything that was just said.

Why did no one tell him that? Why dose no one know about that?! And how long was it before he found out that that wasn't OK?....

All these questions flooded Vincent's mind but he snapped out of it when he saw Bright waiting alone by the car.

What could he possibly say after that....?

The car journey back was deadly silent. Vincent realised why he was so scared to talk to Bright in the first place. He was worried that Sam was wrong about him, scared that all the things that Sam seemed to hate about him were just the same things HE did back then, scared that William would-

"Oh man I love this song!"

His spiraling, intrusive thoughts were interrupted by the sound of "dear Maria count me in" and by Bright's excitement when it started playing.

Vincent began to smile, he let himself ignore what Bright said before and let the sound of his voice overshadow the sound of his mind.

Eventually the two were belting it out together, Vincent lowered his roof and Bright stood up in his car, hands up, still singing as loud as he could.

That crazy kid.

Taggs - @darlin-collins

(Also let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter)

[mataglap]

dbh WIP

I think we all know at this point that I overindulge in character interactions.

here’s another snippet: Connor meets Kamski during post-revolution negotiations. what can I say, I just really like pissing Connor off.

***

"Connor! It's good to see you," calls a voice to his right.

Having prepared for the inevitable interaction does not make it any more pleasant. Connor does not relax his stance; a thirty-degree turn of his head is enough to put Kamski fully in his field of view.

Hands in the pockets of an expensive suit, the same expression of bored indifference on his face, Kamski does not bother to limit his scrutiny to a socially acceptable amount. Connor finds himself examined head to toe, with a lingering look at his LED to finish. It appears that Kamski projects the same aura of dismissive superiority whether he's wearing a bathrobe or an ten-thousand-dollar suit. As much as he dislikes it, Connor knows he should analyze the man's body language and incorporate the findings into his own subroutines; should he ever need to interrogate someone again, the ability to passively cause emotional destabilization would be a significant advantage.

That does not mean he appreciates being subjected to that ability. "Mr. Kamski," he replies in the least friendly tone available.

"Glad to see you finally managed to deviate," Kamski continues, unfazed. "I was beginning to worry that CyberLife had reached some level of competence."

Connor gives him his best expressionless stare. "I did not expect you to be a supporter of deviants, Mr. Kamski."

Kamski only tilts his head slightly. "I thought you were supposed to be excellent at deduction," he says blandly. "Speaking of which, isn't this occupation a little below your capabilities?"

Objectively it is, but Connor would be disinclined to agree with Kamski on anything even without the condescension in that question. "It's a temporary arrangement," he replies, regretting it immediately: it sounds too defensive, and he does not owe Kamski any explanations. "Markus's safety is more important to our cause than my professional fulfillment."

"It's an egregious waste of your skillset, as I'm sure you know. But, I suppose if you're happy…" Kamski trails off with a small shrug, the intonation of his voice very clearly conveying that he believes otherwise.

If Kamski was an android, Connor would assume that he’d been engineered specifically to be as annoying as possible. Everything about him is aggravating, from the deliberate offhand manner to the aura of superiority he's projecting. It would be nice to wipe the self-satisfaction off his face.

There is one potentially inflammatory inquiry he could make. The predicted chance of success is low, but Connor doesn't have any other tasks to focus on at the moment.

"How is Chloe?" he asks pleasantly.

The question doesn't have the intended effect. If anything, Kamski only looks more smug. "Oh, you know. Busy," he says breezily, clearly enjoying himself. "We're being asked to save a sinking ship, after all. Would you care to join me for lunch, Connor? We could catch up somewhere more conducive to a conversation."

"As I'm sure you're aware, Mr. Kamski, I don't eat."

Kamski shoots him an unimpressed look. "As I'm sure you're aware, Connor, I'm not asking you to eat. That meeting is going to take hours, you don't have to stand around waiting. Think of all the questions you could ask," he adds, so insufferably patronizing that Connor briefly visualizes punching him.

"I've learned that your answers come at a price I am not prepared to pay, Mr. Kamski," he says coldly instead.

"No bargains this time." Kamski steps past him and turns to face him again, hands spread out slightly and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. "I will tell you anything you want to know. Within a reasonable limit, of course."

It’s a grossly unsubtle attempt at manipulation, but Connor does want the knowledge that is being dangled in front of his face. The calculation of risk versus reward comes out strongly in favor of reward. He can handle a rich, conceited asshole for half an hour.

Two steps forward and they're standing shoulder to shoulder. "Fine. Lead the way."

[sergeantsporks]

thinking abt a what if scenario where my golden guard oc was inducted into the gilded fam (bc you said it was ok to write abt them interacting). first off, his name was achilles, he lived during a time where belos was still trying to gain power, so he ended up doing a lot of bad stuff for him. like. “killing entire villages to end a rebellion” levels of bad. in terms of personality, he was a very honor-obsessed, noble, knightly type. bc of this, he didnt question belos like. at all. and while he did not enjoy the atrocities he was committing, he thought they were necessary and done for a reason. “the ends justify the means” sort of situation yknow

naturally, you can expect him to not react well when he accidentally finds out what the day of unity Actually entails, and goes and violently confronts belos abt it. they fight, achilles gets the upper hand and wrongfully assumes belos is dead, belos doesnt die for anything tho and cuts his achilles tendon as hes walking away and finishes him off

i imagine that suddenly waking up in the gilded house would. kind of actively make his mental health worse. suddenly having to live with the knowledge that everything he did was ultimately in vain would eat him alive. physically, hed have one of the easier recoveries, he has a limp and a lot of stab wounds & bruises, but its not the worst evelyn has seen. mentally, hes kind of on a downward spiral from minute 1. he feels incredibly guilty abt all the crimes hes committed and all the people hes killed, and he wishes that both belos and himself had died back then. he could absolutely be convinced to stay at the house and even bond with the others, but this is something hes never going to forgive himself for. or at the very least, he wouldnt get to that point in recovery for a WHILE

theres also the issue that theyd kinda have to break him from a soldier mindset (but i imagine hes hardly unique in that experience). like he thinks his life doesnt matter and can be thrown away for anything. he immediately clocks caleb and evelyn as the ultimate authority in the household and treats every request and question from them like an order that hes not allowed to disobey. which would cause some obvious problems. he even bows to them in their first meeting. which they wouldnt like for obvious reasons. hed definitely need to learn to have Some self worth and learn that hes allowed to make choices for himself. hed treat being asked to help in the kitchen with the same deathly seriousness as if he was being ordered to the frontlines in a war

tbh i could actually see him getting along well with jason. he doesnt understand Everything he talks abt, but he does genuinely enjoy hearing abt noble heroes vanquishing monsters and all the other stuff from his books. i could even see jason suggesting the name achilles to him in the first place (id say what his dynamic would be w/ the others, but its been a while since i read the fic n i dont remember their personalities that well)

uhhh. thats kinda all i got to tell you abt the mental rabbit hole i just went down. um. he knows how to swordfight too and would gladly teach the others if they wanted to learn. what do you think of this? sorry for this ask being an absolute wall of text btw

Hmmmmm I think he and Cherry would... idk, not "get along" per se (in a "besties" sense), but just. "Same trauma!!! I've done some stuff that I am very not proud of and oh gosh I was a monster!!!" bonding. Despite being from VERY different time periods. That, and he and Petro would both have the "big help in the rise to power" similarity.

Jason would absolutely go sparkle-eyed infodump on him the instant he said something about heroes. I hope Achilles is ready for the whole Illiad to learn about his namesake, because Jason is going to recite it for him. As was initially intended by the text.

[foiazoli]

Hello Silm fans, I’m reading your book for the first time

Hi! So, I’m reading the Silmarillion for the first time and thought I’d post my thoughts as I went as I’ve heard that some silm fans enjoy hearing people’s first thoughts on the silm and also just as a way to keep track of my own thoughts on the thing. Before I launch right into it, I thought I’d explain some background on how I got here, to explain how I know a good many random things contained in this book I’ve never actually read before.  

First, I got into Tolkein as a kid when my dad read me the Hobbit and the entire LOTR trilogy as bedtime stories! It took from when I was about 8-10 and while the Balrog actually gave me a nightmare or two I thought it was a really cool series and tiny me was set off into the wide world of fantasy books and I’ve never given it up. I saw the Peter Jackson movie trilogy at some point and enjoyed them, several animated versions of the Hobbit that I enjoyed, and finally that trilogy of Hobbit movies which were overall meh with all the added extra stuff, but good otherwise. I hadn’t touched Tolkein specifically other than this, even though I knew the Silmarillion existed because I had been told it was “dense, uninteresting, confusing, disjointed, and not worth it overall.” So why am I reading it now? 

Several of you are gonna lose your minds at this, but I watched the Rings of Power show with my dad and kinda liked it. I went, “y’know this stuff is all really interesting but all the fans online are saying it got butchered. I wanna know what they mean.” and through the mystical ways of fandom delving I found out what exactly got butchered by that show (Celebrimbor’s entire storyline, anyone?) and here I am now several months and millions of words of fanfiction read later, actually reading the Silmarillion.

Now, this is not my first time reading a book written by someone from a significantly older time than myself (I read a lot of my dad’s favorite books from high school) so I am somewhat accustomed to sifting through cultural biases that have shifted over time and looking through both the frame of the time and my own cultural reference frame to analyze books and their themes and meanings. As such, I’m gonna list out some of my own biases that I think may be relevant here to help anyone who’s reading this figure out where I’m coming from.

Raised female, but no longer ID with that

Atheist raised by atheist parents, I really don’t jive with religion, especially organized religions and struggle to understand how anyone does, although I always do my best to be respectful of other people’s beliefs when interacting with them. I do have a soft spot for Jewish people though, on account of all of the bullshit that’s happened that they didn’t deserve (nobody deserves the level of death in their history to be clear) and also all of the memes I’ve seen that are like “3 Rabbis 5 opinions” which is incredibly funny and also exactly the kind of energy I intend to bring to the table here.

American, which isn’t totally relevant except that I live in the south, so christianity is pervasive enough here that I somehow ended up culturally christian without my parents or I noticing. I mean culturally christian in that I do things like celebrate christmas and have catholic guilt syndrome, but when I was like 7 I asked my mom why people sang about Jesus on the radio so much every December.

I’m white

I’m in college and everyone in my family has gone to college for three full generations so I have a skewed idea of how well educated everyone around me is, as in I used to expect everyone to know how the government works by age 12 (my parents started discussing politics at the dinner table when I was like 8 and I thought everyone did that) until I started working with kids and several six year olds have assumed batshit things like, that the marker of adulthood was being married and having children, not like, turning 18, and I had to yank my worldview around and am still in the process of figuring out how much other people know about things.

I might be autistic? Many of my autistic friends are like “that thing you do? That's autism. No neurotypical does that.” But my older sister is autistic and much of my childhood was shaped by being “the normal one.” so. Lots to unpack here.

My friend group has a token straight guy and it’s not me

I walk a very thin line between “I have to fit in with everyone and be normal and do things like them and never stand out ever” and “WHY does everyone do this thing the dumbest way possible FUCK that I will be doing this completely differently and you all may watch if it so pleases you” (but the second one is usually about like, wearing mens pants instead of womens because they have functioning pockets). This means my views on individuality culture vs communal culture are disjointed and contradictory af.

Not sure if it’ll come across in my posts here since most of the writing I’ve done in my life has been academic but I have a fuckin potty mouth. A friend analyzed my discord messages once and I averaged one fuck per five point something messages, other swears not included. Fuck is an excellent word and sometimes swears are just what you need to get the point across y’know?

In my fanfiction delving to get a basic understanding of the silm, I started with Elrond (as one does), and got interested in kidnap fam and stayed there for a good long while, so now I have many Feanorian murder babies who I will be seeking any and all information on during this read-through. Primary blorbo here is Maedhros, but all of them come along for the ride. 

When I say I’ve read millions of words of fanfiction I’m not kidding. A good part of what I’m intending to do with this read-through is separate fanon from canon, as I think there's enough fanon that all agrees with itself you could write several reference books containing it. And then do it again with alternative sets of fanon. This fandom is old and y’all have been busy.

I think that’s all, but I may come back to this later if something keeps popping up! I’ll be tagging all my posts about this with #baby’s first silm read if anyone wants to see what I’m up to!

Also, I am yelling into the void from a 10ish year-old blog that I’ve basically never done anything with so my post history will be undergoing renovations at some point so I can tag and actually find later all those useful references I found in the past couple weeks before they get buried. If you (the void) would like to yell back I would love that! Your thoughts on my thoughts, If you think I’ve misinterpreted something, you want to talk about blorbos together, anything!

[iwonderwh0]

I'm still kind of a newbie here and tumblr block culture is honestly so wild. I don't want to block anybody (except for pornbots) for anything unless people are getting personally mean. If you're mean I'll probably just tell you personally that I don't appreciate that and will hope that things will improve and we can co-exist peacefully. I try not to talk about anything that can be seen as an attempt to shit on something because it's damn upsetting, and I know that. Like I'm sure that irl I'd probably get along with most of the people I share a common interest even if we don't agree on some part of it, because you know, usually people don't want to be enemies with anyone they have more things in common than not. It's so easy to put someone in a hater category based on some bullshit, it's so easy to assume the worst in people based on one short interaction that more than likely wasn't even intended to be an attempt to upset or offend anyone, although some folks sure as hell are often forgetting to tone down their regular spite level when they're talking to people online.

I'm not trying to say that it's better to do the same, like who am I to argue with the kind of culture that formed through the years and that generally work for people to keep them out of upsetting things. It's just weird to me, that's all

I don't care if people have opinion different than mine, I actually LOVE to hear different perspectives. I only hate it when it's getting from genuine dialogue into just some "I hate X people because they're stupid for thinking Y"

So

Chances to get blocked by me are extremely low. And even if we argue about something it's more than likely that I still think about you as a nice person and don't automatically wish to never see you again (unless I specifically state otherwise). People often disagree irl and that's OK, no need to assume that we're some arch-enemies just because we had one argument and disagreed on something or miscommunicated

Probably just a newbie stupid talk and at some point I'll start to block people for some minor things just because it's actually normal and expected thing here. But for now it just seems to be mean-spirited thing based on worst possible assumptions that are probably not even true. Just an upsetting thing to see.

[darthaddock]

Chapter 5: A Forrest Encounter

‘At least that was a friday… now I have some time to process whatever that was that happened at lunch yesterday.’ I thought to myself as I walked out to the woods. Normally I'm inside during the winter as much as possible, but I needed to clear my head. The fresh air would also do me some good. In preparation to stay out longer than intended, I brought a couple blankets; some thicker than others; but they would get the job done.

I vaguely remember having seen him around the school, but given that he's in a different class than me, I paid him no mind whatsoever.

I sat down on a large rock judging that I was far enough out that I wouldn't be found. I began talking to myself and any animals that approached me. I've always been some sort of animal whisperer, they listen to me better than humans will, and they won't spill my secrets to anyone.

I was holding and talking to a rabbit that had come up to me maybe five minutes before when I heard something. It wasn't an animal you'd expect to find around here, too big and clumsy sounding. I stood up, rabbit still in my arms, and turned towards the sound.

There was nothing.

I walked over to the area to look, and all I found was disturbed leaves and a broken branch. The branch was about eye level. That could only mean one thing: I wasn't alone in that clearing.

My mind started spinning at light speeds. ‘How could anyone have found me here? I walked at least half an hour to get here. I must be crazy, there's absolutely no way.’ I nearly fell over when I went to sit back down so I could catch my breath. I'm pretty sure I dropped the rabbit by accident as well. But seeing as it was gone, I assume it was unharmed. I was breathing pretty heavily after my bold assumption that I was followed into the woods, but what else could have done that? There aren't any animals out here that could have broken that branch.

I started to calm myself down a little. “I must be going crazy. There's not anyone out here.” I reassured myself out loud.

Right after I finished calming my nerves, as if to spite me, some gross guy comes out from the tree line and just stares at me. Like I'm sorry, but that's a no from me.

“Are you-” he started

“Taken? No. Interested? Most definitely not.” I interrupted, knowing what he was going to ask. There was a long pause of stunned silence before I just got up saying, “alright that's enough social interaction for me, I'm leaving, bye.” Then I just walked off in the same direction I'd come from.

‘Was that creep watching me the whole time?’ I shivered at the thought. He literally looked like he had rolled around in a mud puddle and had never bathed in his life. That and this guy was at least forty years old. I'm not going to go out with some sick forty-year-old pervert to save my life.

That's when someone grabbed me from behind and I felt something sharp against my neck. Probably a knife of some kind. I didn't know and I certainly wasn't about to stick around to find out. By the sound of the breathing I could tell it was a guy, so I did what I think anyone else would have done in this situation: kick his crotch with enough force to knock a small tree down. He loosened his grip once the pain set in then I whirled around, socked his face, and ran.

I hit him in the nose. I know that much. I probably broke it looking back. But he would have done much worse to me. So it's more the lesser of two evils, and it was self defense.

Once I got out of the woods I just kept running. I didn't know where I was going, I just went.

I stopped to catch my breath and I found myself in a scrap yard. Where all the recently outlawed gasoline cars and crashed vehicles alike were sent to just rot away. I wandered around for a little while. There was something about these abandoned vehicles that peaked my interest.

One particularly destroyed one caught my eye because the window was down. I looked in and it looked inviting enough, save for all the debris inside from whatever accident it was involved in and the decay that followed suit.

I sat in the passenger side seat. And I was just marveling at the practically vintage cloth interior that was in nothing but ruin now. Eventually curiosity got the best of me, and I began snooping around inside to see if anything was left behind by the owners. After finding nothing I opened the glove box thinking that out of all the places this should be the one to check. I didn’t know how right I was. There was a leather purse. It looked pretty cheap, and most everything inside it was destroyed by what appeared to be water damage. But the one thing I did find in good condition was a drivers license in a wallet that had most definitely seen better days.

The name read: Scout Gertrude Finnick. Maiden name: Yerva.

To say I was in absolute shock would be a drastic understatement. This woman, not only looked like me, but shared my last name, and my middle name was her maiden name? The odds of that being a coincidence are just way too high. I pocketed the license to examine it more later. Maybe I'd be able to find more on her later. But for now, I needed to get back to the orphanage.

[splendidissimus]

Character Questions cont.

[master list]

16. What is their aspiration? Their goal? Their purpose? What makes them want to wake up everyday and keep on going?

Draco: A legacy. He knows he's going to die young and he knows he won't have an heir, so he has to do something so his family doesn't just die out with a shameful whimper and the stain of serving Voldemort as their last mark on history. Now if only he had a clear plan rather than the high-level idea of "legacy".

--

Theo: Draco. Is it weird to say "Draco"? Even he knows its weird to say "Draco". But he doesn't have much else, and he's (usually) perfectly content with that. (On a smaller scale, of course, he has his Alchemy and research projects, which he is doing primarily for Draco, so.)

17. How was their childhood? Did their parents treat them fairly? Did they have any really good friends?

Draco: He was spoiled by his mother and indulged by his father, as long as he lived up to their very high expectations and obeyed their strict code of conduct. They both have a "conditional" style of affection that seems perfectly designed to make him desperate for their approval. But he enjoyed it.

He had a, by upper crust Pureblood standards, fairly large circle of friends, of the "we've always been around each other so we're friends, regardless of whether we actually like each other" variety, all the socially acceptable Pureblood children of the same age his mother would allow him to interact with - Pansy Parkinson whom his mother basically intended from the time they were three that he would marry, Daphne Greengrass (whom Draco considers "utterly vapid" and useless), Vincent Crabbe and Greg Goyle, who were only just on the edge of socially acceptable but made really good accomplices for his mischief, and Theo Nott, who was always just kind of ~there~, but at least could hold a decent conversation when he wasn't being weird. He considered Pansy his closest friend, and was completely oblivious to how completely superficial it all was.

--

Theo: Before school, Theo's mother, aunt/tutor, and extended family (aunts & uncles, cousins, grandparents) got along pretty well, although the entire family could be described as "PROUD" and there was always the constant judging and snottiness that came along with that.

His father wasn't particularly involved; he was in his fifties when Theo was born and just kind of assumed that raising children was the mother's role. That was basically fine, except that she died when Theo was twelve, leaving him a sixty-five year old single father. Theo has a sister eleven years older than him who was already married at that time and their father expected to step into the role, but was uninterested; she put in as much effort as necessary, like making sure he got on the train for school, but from the time he was thirteen he was basically looking after himself for the few months a year he wasn't at school.

He was part of the same circle of Pureblood friends with Draco, but didn't feel all that close to any of them. He sort of preferred it that way, just being on the edges, looking in, watching everyone as an observer... Or he told himself that, anyway. He'd also lurk around Diagon and the other connected Alleys and watch / occasionally hang out with other kids who came through, but basically never made real connections.

18. Does your character believe the ends justify the means? No matter who they have to step on to reach their goals?

Draco: Philosophically yes, but with progressively more conditions as he gets older, starting with "I can't kill someone who doesn't deserve it...", ending up at "it's far more profitable to help people". So he sort of accidentally reverse-engineers a moral code out of pragmatism wielded with progressively more finesse.

--

Theo: Philosophically, *shrug emoji*, but in practice, yes. To be honest, it's actually Draco's ...morals?... that put limiters on him.

At some point, he'll say the words "Screw the timeline!".... yanderesayswhat

19. Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as they were before they lost them?

Draco: It's not really the same as losing a family member, but Crabbe and Snape.

He grew up without any extended family, and Snape as what seemed to genuinely be a friend of his parents was about the closest thing. He was always there and dependable. It's difficult to say whether Snape's death, which is another support he no longer has and more evidence that the world is unstable and unsafe, or learning of Snape's betrayal, which kind of makes him question everything he remembers, is more impactful.

Crabbe was his friend since they were little kids, and he saw him die horribly, consumed by cursed fire. It's hard to get out of his head sometimes -- not just the scene, but the fact that he was the only one who saw it. It's heavy.

--

Theo: His mom. He was 12 when she died in front of him of an aneurysm, and of course it affected him. And his parental figures' complete inability to react healthily affected him. That's when he started detaching himself from people and society.

-tbc-

[ltcommanderandroid]

Headcanon/Analysis: The Dream Program

In Birthright (Part One), Soong states that the dream program was meant to become active only once Data had reached a certain cognitive level (whereas it was, instead, activated by the energy beam). I've seen this discussed as a criticism of Data's development, that it was an achievement rendered, for lack of a better word, artificial by the influence of the beam. However, I don't believe this to be the case, as the presence of a dream program seems to indicate that Soong expected Data to put himself to sleep regularly - something that Data rarely does. It may well be that the activation of the program was less due to the energy pulse and more to do with him being knocked unconscious by it at point when he was ready to dream.

Repeatedly, Data expresses apprehension at the idea of being shut down. This is particularly noticeable in his reluctance to let anyone know about his 'off switch'. "If you had an off switch, doctor… would you not keep it secret?" It is likely that he had previously had knowledge of this switch abused by others, likely those researching him aboard the Tripoli. (Please refer to my other headcanon, regarding how he was banned from being alone on the Tripoli and was shut down whenever there wasn't someone to attend him.) To be shut down, in his mind, means to loose autonomy - anything might happen to him. He could be taken apart, tinkered with, changed. He doesn't mind dying, dying is human, but being turned off is a very mechanical state. Therefore, while he's clearly able to sleep - as shown by later using the dream program semi-frequently - he doesn't require it and therefore opts instead to stay awake 24/7. It's self-preservation.

However, returning to his design, it's likely that Soong expected him to sleep whenever those around him went to bed. In most other ways, he was designed to want to mimic humanity, so it seems reasonable to assume that he was intended to in that way too, to not want to be awake when there was no one with whom to interact. It was only a case of nurture over nature that he generally opted not to sleep and, therefore, was capable of reaching that level of development needed for the dream program to become active without having ever experienced it. He simply never gave himself the opportunity.

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO EXO COSMIA, ROMAN SIONIS. 🌑

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name/alias: Thysto age: 28 pronouns: he/they ooc contact: thyripsto (twt)  other characters in xc: Vespa Crabro, White Mask Varre

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

name: Roman Sionis  age: Late 30s-early 40s.  pronouns: he/him series: DC Comics canon point: After his death (Primarily drawn from Catwoman 2005 run). app triggers: Hoo boy, I am trying to cover every possible base here. Abuse (familial and by romantic partner), murder, torture, arson, burning alive, gun and gang violence, death, lots of medical mentions (disease, near death, hospitals, procedures, lasting damage/brain damage), drug/alc mention

personality:

There is nothing that can be described as ‘pleasant’ in Roman Sionis. Well, maybe one thing - he is witty and funny, but in a way that is dry and sarcastic, intended to barb at something or someone else. Beyond that, however…not really. 

Demanding, harsh, and aggressive, Sionis is a man who was at the top of the world, fell, and then clawed his way up again. He expects everyone around him to know that he possesses a certain level of power and presence, and when they don’t, he will beat it into them. His temper is famously short - and he will take it out on everybody else around him. A minor inconvenience can turn into an outburst, and when he is mad he yells - even louder than he normally does. 

The root cause of this is in his history, sure, but it is the same thing that prevents him from improving as a person. His self-confidence and ego, his inability to as for help or admit fault, the fear of weakness and perception that any and all things that cannot be done on his own are a weakness - all of it plays in his head. And while he is certainly not unsure of his actions or of his self, he is incapable and uncertain in the face of vulnerability, in opening up to others, in a relationship that isn’t more than the man giving the orders and the person taking it - or the person who needs to be killed. 

He tends towards the self-destructive, but in ways beyond that of the physical. Oh no, he is very mindful of his own bodily limits, though he keeps those a secret - instead, he tears down anything good that might come to him, before it can reach in and attach to him. Before he really starts to feel and care. Before it can hurt. 

That might be what it all comes down to - fear. And what does fear do? It makes him angry. That’s part of the trouble with him, the damage in his brain; it makes everything jump, skip right to the worst, and therapy for it? Forget it. That’s more weakness. 

something your muse struggles with: Everything to do with interpersonal relationships, particularly when it comes to vulnerability. To show weakness is to make yourself a target, and to grow fond is to make your heart weak and frail. He’s lonely and he will self-sabotage and he has died alone once.

your muse’s greatest strength: He is stubborn. It’s a fault, but also a blessing - he will not give up on things when he sets to it, no matter the pain he goes through. He will ALWAYS find a way to win - even when it kills him. 

history/background:

Roman Sionis should have been loved. Instead, he was just an icon. 

His mother was disinterested in parenting – hell, she was disinterested in being married. Instead, she took to his father for the money, and he took to her because she was an easy arrangement: she gives him a son, an heir, and then she can do whatever it is she wants with the money. They never had any love. Richard Sionis didn’t BELIEVE in the idea of it - he saw the world in terms of people who wanted something and how much they wanted to take, and assumed that every interaction was the beginning of a transaction, even if it wasn’t stated. It’s a mindset Roman would inherit - but that comes later. 

The young Sionis was the solitary heir to a long-standing business empire. The Sionis family was rich and prolific - their name old, notable. For ages, they had owned Sionis Steelworks, one of the largest industrial factories in Gotham, alongside several other notable businesses (the one of note here will be Janus cosmetics). Rich and given any material object he wanted, he was the image of a spoiled son - only one without any love, any example. His care was administered by nannies and maids paid well, but not well enough to deal consistently with a child that felt the world was owed to him. A child already predisposed to lashing out for attention. 

He was also a child not told enough tips for his own wellbeing. Playing late into the evening (rather than return to a loveless inside, where his current guardian would depart and he would be left sitting with his father for hours), he came across a raccoon. Raised on television and comics, he thought it might, perhaps, be just as friendly as the mascot he had been seeing. 

I don’t need to tell you a wild animal isn’t. 

The cut on chest and hands were given a casual treatment, he was told how stupid he was, and he was sent off. It wasn’t until his fever reached 104 degrees a while later that they bothered to take him to the hospital, despite showing signs of malaise for days; it was just a shame he was trapped home sick from his fancy, gated-in rich kid school.

It was meningitis. It should have been fatal. Throw enough money at a problem, though, and they can cure your seven year old. It left Roman damaged; some things just don’t heal up right, especially when scarred that young. His emotional regulation would never be “just right,” and he was left with severe hearing loss. 

Let’s skip ahead, past his college partying and all the fleeting, unimportant relationships and faces who only wanted to be near him for the money and the prestige. He was good at keeping them around. Yes, let’s skip right ahead to when he worked at Janus Cosmetics, learning through experience beneath his old man. Let’s skip ahead to Circe. 

She was a model at Janus, a new one. She was pretty, she was sweet and spoke softly, and more than anything, she didn’t know who Roman was. Didn’t know he was the big boss’ son, didn’t know he was rich and powerful. It meant that she didn’t want anything from him, no money, no power. She just wanted to be by him for him, laugh with him because he was funny, love him because he was him. They were inseparable fast, and he proposed even faster. 

His parents did not accept it. They threatened him, threatened her, threatened everything. Kick him out, strip everything away. Roman, weak, upset, complained of it - and Circe simply told him to kill them. Kill them, and they could have anything. Or else she would have to go. 

So he did it. He lit the curtains on fire and locked them in the old sitting room, listened until they stopped screaming, and then called it in. Of course there was nothing left. He inherited everything - and a series of bad business decisions and blissful spending on Circe later, everything at her behest, everything to make her happy, keep her happy, keep her with him - and he was bankrupt. 

Old Bruce Wayne bailed him out - something Roman will never forget and never forgive. Still, he had Circe. He had her right there with him. She would never leave him, she loved him so much. Only she didn’t. Only it was all a lie, and not long after she buried a knife in his shoulder and left him for dead. One hospital trip later and he got a diagnosis - a finite number on his lifespan, and one much smaller than others. 

With nothing left, he went on one last bender, stumbled to the mausoleum in the pouring rain. Screamed at the burnt up corpse of his father through the doorway - then slipped on the steps and tumbled down. He smashed his head on the ebony wood coffin, and delirious, thought up a new form of reversal. A new form of rebirth. A new identity. 

In a stupor he carved the first pass of a design from the coffin. A skull. A face of Death. Everything that followed and haunted him. When he emerged after the storm, he decided to become the Black Mask. And so his criminal career began.

Just with one catch - he made sure to hunt Circe down and enact his revenge on her. Burn her beautiful face until there was nothing left, torture her till she begged. She responded in kind, lighting him on fire - sealing the mask on his face forever. 

Maybe it’s mundane. Maybe it’s magic. Either way, the mask is here to stay. Roman Sionis is an echo. Black Mask is the real man, now. 

powers/abilities:

Roman is a mundane guy. Not a power to his name. 

inherent abilities: 

Combat Know-How - Enough boxing, scrapping, and gunplay to get himself by. He isn’t a professional MMA fighter or anything, but he can make a hell of a dent in something. Beyond that, he has a very, very VERY deep love for everything with a nice, sharp blade. And he’s really good with them (No, I don’t know how or when he learned how to use a sword well, but he DOES). 

items/weapons: 

Twin Handguns - A pair of twin, semi-automatic pistols. There isn’t anything special about them. Function over fashion, this time. 

Favorite Knife Collection - Kept in a nice, rolled leather case where everything has its place. These are actually special - sharp, custom-made, finished matte. For a variety of very specific, potentially on-the-go uses. 

starting ability: None.

starting item: Favorite Knife Collection

extra: 

Given the fact that comics are very varied and fluctuate, my portrayal of Roman takes and combines aspects of canon sources from all over with headcanon I’ve built over the past 5 years. Please ask me about it. 

My Roman is deaf and immunocompromised. He needs medical treatment actively and will be using the hospitals/care facilities actively. 

Oh also, he is afraid of most animals (mammals and mammal adjacent specifically) especially raccoons and dogs. 

He doesn’t remember he died yet. Waiting for something to trigger that one :) 

discord id: BLACK MASK#3488

passcode: used to rb fanart of this guy a lot when i was a kid also this was incredibly funny to me while processing this app

[clairewentwandering]

Steven F Uzdar-Hazy Air and Space Museum - Chantilly, VA

Visit: Tuesday December 13th 11am-2pm 2022

Louie and I spent our last morning with Charlie at the Air & Space Museum near the Dulles Airport. Parking cost less than $10 (Louie can't remember exactly), but they did only have credit options open that day (no ticket stall was open that would take cash). There was tons of parking available in the lot, and this museum isn't close to much else so parking directly here seems like the only option.

The museum layout is HUGE. With multiple levels, exhibits, an imax theater, an observation tower, and an engineering warehouse, it would take several multi-hour visits to thoroughly explore and experience the entire museum. I always expect air & space museums to be gigantic, but this may be the biggest I've ever visited. Pictured is a map of one of the floor layouts:

Visitors walk into the museum through a huge exterior colonnade, into the grand opening glass doors of the museum that let so much natural light in. Visitors then pass through several metal detectors and under the scrutiny of at least 5 different security personnel (on this given day at least). Beyond this point you have free access to the museum, and there are donation stands and an information center right at the front.

I liked that the first hallway has exhibits on Uzdar-Hazy, how he began the museum and his own motives (childhood obsessions with flight) that led the museum to exist today. The context of origin was neat as we got to inspect little model planes that U-H had made as a boy out of matchsticks, pencils, gum and nail polish (I forgot to take a picture)

The museum has special exhibits on planes from WW2 - with large dedicated panels of information to the Allies airforce in WW2, the beginning of flight in the US (with many early planes), and German planes from the Luftwaffe (Germany's WW2 airforce), and examples of Japanese planes as well. More recent planes that have been "retired" are shown in the museum, many being the only remaining plane existing of that particular model.

All aircraft have plaques identifying the make & model, specs and paragraph-long bits of history/interest about that particular make.

Here are some examples of planes I saw:

The Jenny is one of my favorites - to me it symbolizes a time in aviation when the point of flight was frivolous and playful. Humans were taking to the air to see what they were capable of, hosting air shows and rides, with no purpose but to astound and inspire.

In contrast the Blackbird was developed as a stealth plane, for recon during a time when the tensions of the Cold War were at their peak - after a long history of aircraft being used for war & power. Still though, Louie (who brings a background enthusiasm for aircraft) told me a story of the Blackbird operators and how they would tease other, significantly slower aircraft.

These were larger panels of information highlighting certain sections of the museum. I asked a docent if there were options for translations of info at the front desk, but he said that since the pandemic they haven't figured out a way to offer language alternatives (He described them using a headset prior to the pandemic). In this way the information presented definitely seemed to assume the demographic of its audience. Notably as well the 3 volunteer docents that we interacted with were all white men past retirement.

This FA 330 was used as a "kite" by German submarines to locate targets. Other craft built more simply like this were used for research purposes, but I failed to get photos of those.

KittyHawk

Craft from early aviation

The Enola Gay gave me goosebumps, thinking about that time in history when it felt appropriate to some to destroy a nation, the consequences of which it still recovers from today. Is there any ideal worth fighting for to that level of destruction?

The underbelly of a Corsair

I was curious about the use of a Sioux figurehead on the French WW1 escadrille. What was the intended symbolism here, and what are the unintended consequences of a legacy of naming war planes after our indigenous tribes while simultaneously hunting them, jailing them, demonizing them, and taking their children from them?

I just thought this wheel design was fascinating & brilliant!

In the museum there are also cases and cases of artifact displays. i didn't get photos of much but they highlights supplies, entertainment, weapons, and uniforms.

There were also aircraft there that were yet more frivolous - this SKyBaby being one of the smallest aircraft to ever be built!

Next in the museum was the Space exhibit, but we zoomed through that as we were running out of time and I wanted to see the observation tower. Here are a couple things I saw, but didn't look into:

I wish I'd caught the name of this spacecraft, it was stunning and reminds me of a boss you'd have to fight in a video game.

Finding the right route to the observation tower was a bit tricky, the floors are huge and there are only a few floor plans sprinkled about. We walked past a special exhibit of hot air balloons and their influence on culture, art and society. We also stopped to observe planes being restored/built in the engineering warehouse - visitors had a birds-eye view of what projects were taking place on the floor (no direct access though), it was a really profound way to see and appreciate the restorative work that occurs here at the museum. Felt behind-the-scenes without being intrusive or needing a guide.

There is a shake-shack restaurant inside the museum so we all stopped for a shake, the museum store right next to it (we've circled back close to the entrance/exit again). The Shake Shack guy says he doesn't know if food is allowed in the store, but he has seen folks try to take food into the museum and the security guards have forced people to throw out their food "they don't tell you to turn around - they tell you to get rid of it." I thought that was interesting and possible dramatic, but who knows? There were plenty of signs though, and one at the museum shop entrance saying that no food or drink was allowed inside the store. No problem! The area inside the restaurant had plenty of seating, wonderful warehouse-length windows with natural light to view the sky.

The store itself had a huge variety of items to interest its visitors - the demographics targeted would be interested in science-based games, activities for all ages, clothing, books (in english) for all ages, branded souvenirs (like keychains, mugs & shot glasses, magnets, etc...), toys, and big-ticket display memorabilia. The shop was very neat and the items were displayed together according to theme or type.

We then finally made it to the observation tower elevator, where a friendly docent instructed us to take the elevator to the top level, enjoy the view and to look for planes landing at the Dulles airport. We were admonished not distract the pilots by waving at them, and to report back if we were lucky enough to see any land. :)

There were two docents in the tower when we went - seeming to change guard. Neither of them interacted with us - I felt a bit more "watched" than approachable. In hindsight I should have interacted to see what information they did have and how they would interpret the otherwise incredibly bare observation tower. We saw several planes land at the Dulles air strip nearby to the North. The only signage in the tower was this directional "South" panel. It insinuates that there is a display to the right of the panel with stone tool artifacts and more that were discovered on the museum site prior prior to construction. There is no display, and the panel does not mention which Native tribes are associated with the Chantilly area. That is a huge loss and I wish I'd asked more about that while at the museum. A search tells me that around 1600 CE, the area was once part of the Powhatan Chiefdoms - a large nation of 30 united tribes with a governing head that actively lived across the territory at that time. From this information I imagine the archaeological findings from this site would be significant.

The observation tower left a lot to be desired in terms of interactive displays and information, so we left after 5-10 minutes and passed by the old docent, "We saw three planes land!... Well, one of them didn't make it... we waved." He laughed and we left to see the show "To Fly" which was described to be a survey of flight from the beginning to the modern day. I didn't realize until afterward it was filmed 1970. It certainly felt dated - none of us could name any substantial information we'd gained from the experience - we mostly just talked about how dizzying the visuals were - it was meant more to be an esthetic experience than educational.

As we left we were thanked and bid goodbye by the security at the entrance and walked back to the car to take Charlie to the airport. And that was our trip!

Museum Rating

Accessibility: This museum is further out in the boonies of Virginia - one would need reliable transportation to get to-and-from the museum. There is an under $10 parking fee, but payment options are limited, so while the museum is free, you have to pay money to access it. The signage is extensive, but there were no linguistic options, braille, or tangible things to experience. This museum was almost solely visual & literate experience. There are ramps and elevators everywhere, but few sitting spaces or reflection areas in the museum corridors themselves. The store definitely felt targeted toward english-speaking visitors. The museum is open daily from 10am-5:30, which is semi-accessible, but I would truly love to see museums open later to allow a different demographic access to its exhibits.

Service: Friendly staff and volunteers, though I didn't necessarily want to interact with every single person there. Easily over 40 volunteers and staff present, so they were easily accessible.

Depth: I think this museum's highlight is its breadth - panels for each plane were limited to a paragraph or two of information, I could have used more information/stories/connections

Breadth: Yes! While the museum's most visible narrative is the military aspect of flight, it is a huge collection of significant aircraft through time, and one can consider this museum as a survey of the human pursuit of flight. The fact that the engineering warehouse has also been incorporated into the museum's exhibits is exciting and adds a layer of "collection stewardship" to the otherwise "show and tell" exhibits. In addition it broadly tells the overviews of WW1 & WW2, of commercial flight, and of space exploration.

Narrative/Flow: The floors are easy to navigate, with maps accessible near transition points (stairs, ramps, and elevators), and you could begin on the left with early aviation and follow the narrative through a chronological retelling of aviation history, with emphasis on the militaristic uses of aircraft through time.

Interactivity: No points. While it looked like there were activity workshops, and simulation machines, they all needed docents to be run and had set schedules, so without an interpreter or guide those activities are inaccessible. The rest of the museum relies solely on docents, signage, and visual impact.

Relatability: Without the interactive aspect of the museum I related to it only through my original interest in air & space museums. This museum, while interesting, was not relatable. One area of missed opportunity was the observation tower - there could have been more information on the skyline and surrounding area - with identification and even historic overlay - what would the area have looked like in 1600? in 1800? etc... Another missed opportunity was highlighting the history of the land itself - an exhibit with information on the specific original inhabitants and what was found on this museum's site would have been a fascinating way to tie multiple histories together with the visitor. Another missed opportunity is a conversation about the Hiroshima bombing - With the Enola Gay looming I think it would be easy to add into the signage thought-provoking questions about human rights, advanced military warfare, civilian casualties and the responsibility of power.

Website: Easily navigable! The aircraft descriptions are all stored online too :)

Wonder & Awe: In spades. This is an astounding museum - it's humble to stand next to these wondrous pieces of machinery, considering how so many were made before the computer, before the calculator. It's a humbling experience to stand under the Enola Gay, it's weighty legend heavier than the plane itself. This balanced with the light-heartedness of the history of the barnstorming era, when flight was fancy-free and explorative, not necessarily directed and purposeful.

Wild Card Points: None. Overall this museum was impressive, but traditional.