#some of these haven't been inflicted on me yet but I live in fear

[thegayhimbo]

Stranger Things Runaway Max Review (1/3)

If you haven't yet, be sure to check out my other Stranger Things Reviews. Like, Reblog, and let me know what your thoughts are regarding the show or the upcoming season! :)

Stranger Things Comics/Graphic Novels:

Stranger Things Six

Stranger Things Halloween Special

Stranger Things The Other Side

Stranger Things Zombie Boys

Stranger Things The Bully

Stranger Things Winter Special

Stranger Things Tomb of Ybwen

Stranger Things Into The Fire

Stranger Things Science Camp

Stranger Things “The Game Master” and “Erica’s Quest”

Stranger Things and Dungeons and Dragons

Stranger Things Kamchatka

Stranger Things Erica The Great

Stranger Things “Creature Feature” and “Summer Special”

Stranger Things Tie-In Books:

Stranger Things Suspicious Minds

Synopsis: Witness the events of season 2 from Max's perspective as she recounts her past in San Diego, her relationships with Neil, Billy, and Susan, her subsequent move to Hawkins, and her meeting with the Party as Lucas invites her on an adventure that will change her life forever.

Observations:

For a book that's short and easy to read (only 231 pages), this was rough to get through. Not because it's badly written (if anything, it's arguably one of the BEST Tie-In novels for Stranger Things), but because this book delves into hard topics like abuse, depression, and isolation, and does not sugarcoat any of it. While Max never had a perfect life in California, the moment Neil and Billy came into the picture is the moment things went sideways for her. There were parts of this book that were distressing, and the way Max's story plays out in season 4 makes a lot of what happens here look harsher in hindsight.

I've said before in previous reviews that the supplementary material works better when it helps enhance the story and mythology of the show. To the book's credit, it manages to do that effectively. While it does retell parts of season 2 from Max's perspective, it gives the audience more context about her past, the circumstances behind Billy and Neil coming into her life, how she views each of the characters she encounters, and it allows the audience the opportunity to get to know Max better.

Part 1: Max And Her Monsters:

In my Creature Feature review, I mentioned Max had a love for horror movies similar to Will, and that Halloween was her favorite holiday:

She even goes on record stating Michael Myers is the horror movie monster that scares her the most, and therefore fascinates her:

There's a dark irony in how Max's fear of Michael parallels her later fear of Vecna: Both of them are serial killers, both of them are mentally disturbed, both of them are strong and will do everything to hunt their targets down, both of them cause collateral damage in their rampages, both of them take heavy injuries and still manage to keep pushing forward, and both of them act as an unstoppable force of terror. The big difference is while Michael is portrayed as a physical threat, Vecna acts more as a supernatural AND psychological threat who can bring your worst insecurities and memories to the surface in order to drive you to despair before he consumes you.

Max had an interest in horror/slasher movies, and then her life became one. Poor girl can't catch a break. 😞

Her love of horror movies predates Vecna and Billy, but there is something to be said about her fixation on monsters, and how she talks about them in context of her situation: In order for her to deal with monsters, she either needs to understand them and their mindset, or she needs to find some way to keep the monsters close to her so that she'll never be caught off-guard by them. There are several instances where she refers to Billy and Neil in this manner because of the abuse they inflict on her, and she desperately tries to understand their behavior as a means of coping with them:

Anyone who's ever been in an abusive situation can relate to what Max is going through. She's forced to live with Billy and Neil despite not wanting to, she feels like no one (including her mom) is stepping in to make things better, and she initially thinks the only option is to weather the storm. She wants to "understand" how her monsters operate and keep them focused on her as a means of protecting others from getting caught in the crosshairs.

In a way, it's similar to her situation with Vecna in season 4. Despite Lucas's suggestion that they go back to Ms. Kelly's office to see if Vecna's targeted other kids, Max refuses because she believes she understands how Vecna works, and would have a better chance of dealing with him compared to a unprepared stranger going up against Vecna:

Max (to Lucas): We don't have time for any of that, okay? And even if we did, even if your plan did work, we'd be putting a total stranger at risk. A stranger who has no idea what they're up against. I do. He uses my memories against me. But… only my darkest memories. Same with Chrissy and Fred, right? It's like he only sees the darkness in us. So, I'll just run in the opposite direction. Run to the light. And maybe he won't be able to find me there.

Lucas: Now, how exactly do you plan on doing this?

Max: I'm not sure. But it's my mind. Not his, right? So I should be able to control where I am. I just need to… push him away. Find a happy memory and hide there. Hide in the light.

Max's arc has not only been about dealing with her "monsters," but also allowing others to help her and realizing she doesn't have to fight them alone. It's a new concept for her because most of her life has been her believing things would only get worse, and that no one would step in on her behalf. Given how her mom was complicit in letting Neil and Billy railroad their lives, it's understandable why she's hardened herself and adopted a cynical outlook. After Billy drives away Max's friends in San Diego and breaks the arm of her best friend Nate to create a wedge between them, Max loses hope that her living situation will improve, and decides she'd rather have Billy's rage directed at her instead of seeing others close to her continue to get hurt. The result is she becomes isolated, just like Billy wanted.

However, in spite of appearing closed off on the surface, people continue to reach out to her once she moves to Hawkins. Dustin and Lucas invite her to go Trick-or-Treating with them, and despite Billy later trying to run them off the road with his car, they still want her to be a part of their group. There's even a brief scene in the book (which should have been on the show) where Max gets injured while skateboarding outside of the store Joyce works at, and Joyce comes to see if she's okay. Max is surprised by this because it's one of the few times she's seen someone express any genuine concern for her:

Later on, Lucas is ultimately the one who opens up to her about everything related to El and the Upside Down, takes her to the junkyard to show her proof of their story, listens to what she's been going through while reassuring her that she's still a good person, and takes the time to get to know her. And as Max sees from everyone else in the Party, despite their arguments and differences, they do care about each other and will fight for one another when the going gets tough. Lucas himself shows he's willing to fight for Max despite how scary and awful Billy is, and despite how standoffish Max initially presented herself. She's never truly had someone do that for her before, and witnessing that is what finally allows her to stand up to Billy at the end of the book and save Steve's life in the process:

And come season 4, they show up for her: The moment everyone realized Max was next on Vecna's kill list is the moment they sprang into action to protect her to the best of their ability while attempting to take Vecna down.

There was an interview where the Duffer Brothers admitted they originally planned to kill off Max at the end of season 4 before changing their minds. I know there are people in this fandom who complain about certain characters having plot-armor (and I could do an entire separate post about how that term gets thrown around willy-nilly these days), but in Max's case, I'm glad they didn't go through with it. For a character who's an abuse survivor and has endured repeated trauma in the hopes that thing would eventually get better, killing Max off like that would have been a mean-spirited way to end her story. It also would have made her entire arc pointless and nihilistic. At least here, there's the possibility of Max returning from the brink.

In both my reviews of The Other Side and Erica The Great, I've talked about how it's likely Max's consciousness has been assimilated into Vecna following the battle at the Creel House, which is why her mind is blank when El tries to communicate with her at the end of season 4. Based on that, Max's arc may be about maintaining her individuality from within Vecna as a means of continuing to resist him, and eventually finding a way to break free from his control and regain her sense of self. Thematically, it would also serve as a satisfying conclusion where she's no longer defined by her trauma or the monsters in her life who have repeatedly dragged her down (Billy, Neil, Vecna). She can finally have an identity and life outside of that.

Of course, there's also the fact that even if her consciousness escapes Vecna's control, she'll still be returning to a broken body, with the very real possibility of being blind and crippled for the rest of her life. I'd actually be interested in seeing that as opposed to the Duffer Brothers coming up with some Deus Ex Machina to magically fix Max's body and make her whole again. Scars and injuries of that extent don't fully heal in real life, and even though Stranger Things isn't a show grounded in reality, it would be nice if they could show a character that's become disabled who's still able to find a way to adjust to her situation, live fully, and gain some semblance of peace within herself.

Part 2: Max And Her Friends

Part of the brilliance of the book is we get a lot more insight into Max's thought regarding certain characters and what she thinks of them, which helps shed more light on how she relates to them on the show.

Take her relationship with Mike for instance: She is (rightfully) not impressed by how he keeps trying to exclude her from the group and shows her nothing but hostility. I know Mike's gotten flak for this from fans, and while his behavior isn't entirely excusable, there is at least context for how he acts here: To him, Max is a stranger who has no idea about El or the Upside Down, and he's not entirely sure he can trust her with that information. On top of that, he worries about Max becoming a replacement for El after her disappearance. It's not a rational way to think, but there is an emotional component to this that Max understands:

Couple of things to note here:

1.) Max is consciously making a choice to be better than Billy. She sees Mike in a rare moment of vulnerability, and even though it would be easy for her to be snide and mean towards him, she instead chooses to be empathetic. That may not seem like a big deal, but I can say from personal experience that I've encountered people (both online and off it) who act like sharks the moment they smell blood in the water. Show any kind of vulnerability or weakness, and they become the most condescending, belittling, self-righteous person you can imagine. For whatever reason, they get some kind of smug superiority in tearing others down to elevate themselves. I've been on the receiving end of that one too many times, and I have nothing but contempt for people who act like that. They are devoid of empathy, and are unkind to others when it is convenient for them. I will always have more respect for those who show compassion towards the vulnerable over those who tear them down.

2.) For as much as Mike and Max are at odds with one another on the show, they have many similarities: They're both headstrong, with a take-charge attitude. They both have issues conveying their emotions in a way that doesn't make them appear moody or hostile to others. And they both care deeply for those they love.

For as much as Max acts emotionally distant on the surface, she wants to have friends and belong somewhere. She wants to be Mike's friend despite how he initially treats her. It's why she continues reaching out to Mike, and even suggests becoming the Zoomer of their Party while roller-skating around him to make him laugh.

It's also why she jumps at the opportunity to get to know El better in season 3 when she takes her shopping and introduces her to other aspects she hasn't experienced yet, like the mall and Wonder Woman comics and sleepovers and so on.

Side Note: In recent years, I've gained a new appreciation for the El/Max scenes in season 3, especially with how important they were in briefly helping Max break free of Vecna in season 4. It's also the first time Max has ever had a friend who's a girl, and she intended to make the most of that during her time with El.

We don't really get much interactions between Will and Max in the book, but I love how she called out the stupidity of Will's nickname "Zombie Boy," and notes that someone who allegedly came back from the dead is not the kind of person you'd want to bully:

She also notes the difference between Lucas and Dustin in how they talk to her, which gives more context for why she ultimately ends up with Lucas by the end of the book:

I like Dustin, but I'm in the crowd that believes Lucas and Max make a better couple, and that Dustin and Max work better as friends. Lucas is the one who listens to her and allows her to be vulnerable in a way where she feels safe and not judged.

He's also the person who (aside from Steve) Max felt protected by. She can be around Lucas without worrying about whether or not he'll abandon her:

Speaking of Steve, I know it's a common perception in the fandom that he's the "big brother figure" Max wishes Billy had been, and this book leans heavily on that interpretation. Unlike other adults, Steve isn't condescending to Max, goes out of his way to treat her as one of the group despite only knowing her for a few hours, and later protects her from the demodogs when she's in danger:

That's probably the first time someone's really stepped up for her like that, and she repays him later by saving Steve from Billy.

Finally, there's this little bit regarding Max's thoughts about Nancy:

It's refreshing to see the breaking down of stereotypes here, and the idea that women have to channel male qualities in order to be "badass" or taken seriously. Nancy is able to be her own person, in her fear, bravery, and determination, without having to emulate Hopper or Steve or any of the other male characters in the room, and Max realizes she can be as well. I would even argue Max channels Nancy when she's later holding Steve's spiked bat over Billy:

She managed to emulate both Steve in his protectiveness towards others, and Nancy in her fierceness, and it's an empowering moment for her.

To be continued in Part 2.........

[poetrywise]

Life, sort of

I can't access Twitter lately, so I thought mb I should try to be more active here. Yes, I know I said it before, but my VPN hasn't been working for weeks and I kind of miss people. I miss life, in general. For the past nearly 2 years, life has been hell in my country: mass arrests, toxic propaganda, army drafts, idiotic laws, silencing the media and public opinion, to say nothing of the horror we have been inflicting on another country. I don't know about most people but I do feel ashamed and depressed, even though I am, have always been, and always will be staunchly anti-war. Seriously, how have people not learnt to solve their disagreements in a less insane way over the course of our history?

Today, yet another "great" news: LGBT is now considered an extremist organization. They've done all they could to torment queer people short of criminalizing queerness itself. They keep promoting so-called "traditional" values, debating whether women should be allowed access to higher education (I kid you not, this is us in the 21st century) and abortion, all the while wasting 40% of the budget on war; in the meantime, all their beloved "traditional" families live in poverty and find their social support cut. You can get 7, 15, 30 years in prison for changing price tags in a supermarket to anti-war statements, staging an anti-war play, digging into government corruption. Children are being force-fed "patriotic" claptrap at school. Bloggers get fined, arrested or forced to leave the country because they fear for their safety. Life here is a cruel joke.

I know that I personally have little reason to complain, since I haven't been arrested (yet), nor have any of my loved ones. But it doesn't mean I don't get panic attacks (I had them before, I've been seeing a therapist for 6 years, and this situation IS derailing my progress) or fear for the future. My personal future feels ruined too: I can't travel, I can't see my BFF who lives abroad, I can't get paid for my stories even if I do manage to publish them (I write in English and have had 4 stories published in America, but we can neither send, nor accept payment from abroad lately). All this feels so small compared to what other people go through, in both our countries, but it's big to ME. I can't look into the future with any kind of hope because I don't want to live in the country that makes its people and another nation suffer. (Don't get me started on actual things our politicians say, like: Well, if smb drops a nuke on us, it'll be fine, as long as it's not on the capital. [FYI, I live in the capital, but it doesn't mean turning the rest of the country into a nuclear wasteland is fine by me. WUT EVEN!])

Everyone hates my country. We deserve it. I hate my own inability to change that but I'm neither brave, nor smart enough to do anything. When it all started, I tried writing letters to politicians, but this ain't America, nb listens to the people here. The only reply I got was smth like: Well, the West is threatening us, we must defend ourselves, so STFU. Idk what bizarre illusionland these ppl live in. Last time I checked WE were threatening everybody. Including ourselves.

What's the point of this TL;DR? Idk. To speak out in some way, I guess. Like I said, my VPN isn't working, and I can't access Twitter, which is my usual platform for whining XD I'll try to post smth more positive some time. Among other platforms that don't work without VPN are: Instagram, Facebook, TikTok, Goodreads, AO3, various torrent sites, BBC sites, many kinds of Western media, and probably a hell of a load more I don't know about. I admire the reporters who are still publishing the truth. It's impossible to hide it from the people these days, but unfortunately, most people just watch TV, which spouts disgusting lies and propaganda.

Nostalgia is a fashionable thing lately, and here's my two cents: I loved the late 90s - early 2000s. Yes, we had problems then too. Like financial crises and local wars. But we had freedom of speech, independent news, we at least tried to respect human rights, we could travel, we had cultural exchanges, foreign tourists, and nb hated us more than any other country. I wasn't ashamed to admit where I was from. I never felt I'd be stuck in a totalitarian state because surely, surely we'd learned! We'd been through it and it wouldn't repeat again. But I guess "all of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again" is a very true saying. I'm so tired. I'm sure I'm not the only one, but I do feel very alone whenever I read the news. I'm lucky in the sense that my family at least shares my opinion, but on a grand scale? I don't know if any meaningful change can be achieved when we can't even form proper opposition: a few parties/organizations both here and abroad are usually at each other's throats instead of working together. So yeah, I'm tired, disappointed, depressed, and idk what else to say.

Wow, hope I don't get arrested for this XD

[lastwordsofdutchschultz]

Joseph Beuys Wire Tap, 1998

(Thegn Penrose, Digital, 2023)

this is a thing I made recently relating to Joseph Beuys, Shamanism, Alchemy, and some pseudo-spiritual ideas I have about the internet and its origins in telecom in the 1990s. I might make more related to this, but who knows. since I had a deadline for the project it isn't all I wanted it to be, but it allowed me to sperg out about Joseph Beuys to people in my class that didn't care, so that's alright. I'm especially interested in the belief that Terrence Mckenna had in technological singularity and the internet before he died. McKenna believed that a technological singularity would provide the redemption of the spirit through matter prophesied in the hermetic tradition. This belief seems very out of place now, but in the 1990s it was considered perfectly logical.

formally it draws heavily on La Jetee (you absolutely have to check it out if you haven't yet, it's only 30 minutes and available on youtube), and the work of janet cardiff. I'll probably make a post about her some day, because she's a really interesting artist. she mostly makes installations, but they focus a lot on sound and physical spaces, so I was thinking of her a lot when mixing the audio. her work is very creepy and interesting, but honestly, it can only be fully experienced in person.

all that you really need to know is that the text-to-speech program in this video is recounting Joseph Beuys' story of crashing in Crimea during World War II. he had been drafted into the Luftwaffe and ended up crashing, after which, according to him, he was taken in by nomadic Tatars, who nursed him back to life using animal fat and sheets of felt. this story is probably not literally true and was either made up as part of his self-myth or hallucinated. later, after the war was over he became an artist, and like a lot of his german contemporaries was consumed by guilt and an overriding postmodern fear that whatever trauma they had inflicted upon humanity would stifle all meaning in human life. he and other artists like Anselm Kiefer, (who, not at all coincidentally was also interested in alchemy) were terrified of the urge to forget and suppress the memory of the holocaust and believed that without proper healing no actual progress could be achieved.

he is known for his especially pessimistic work in the 1950s and 60s that focused on trauma, the dissolution of humans as living beings and subjects, and a fixation on Auchwitz. following this he leaned more into his belief in alchemy and felt that through his ritualistic practices, much like the tatars healed him, he could heal the large scale trauma in the world around him. his attitude at this time was very sincere and earnest, and was accompanied by a strong involvement in the West German anti-war and anti-nuclear movements. some people would see his early involvement with the Green Party, for instance, as out of character or wacky, but it actually fits beautifully within his belief that great art would accompany meaningful material change in the world.

anyway, I'm rambling. I will not get into my ideas about the early internet yet. some day.

[high-caliber-bitch]

The gatekeeping around parenting is one of the most obnoxious things. I once had to listen to a co-worker talk about his horrible treatment of his son, I believe seven, who had nighttime bladder control issues. I haven't birthed children, sand this was before my step children came into my life, but I know so much about children and parenting. Bladder control issues are extremely common, and the number one piece of advice is DO NOT MAKE YOUR CHILD FEEL SHAME. There is quite literally a physiological reason for the problem and it has nothing to do with self control. It is a common developmental problem that most children will grow out of, it just requires time and patience. But this father thought he was so wise and was talking about how he was going to make his son wash his own sheets and clothes if he had an accident. Now completely separately I do believe children should understand how to use the washer and dryer because any skills that add to their ability to be independent are good for their confidence and developmental, just good so around, but not how it was being presented to this child. This child is old enough to feel embarrassed about his issue, but under no circumstances should he be made to feel bad or worse about something he literally has no control over. It would be like ridiculing your child for red hair. His father was so disgusted by him peeing the bed that he came up with this whole plan to make his son clean up after himself instead of taking the 10 seconds to Google "seven year old pees bed almost nightly" and find that the first fucking article that pops up is about the reason it occurs and how you're supposed to handle the situation from a psychological stand point that keeps the child in mind because how you handle situations is extremely important.

I had a garbage mother whom I spent a lot of time with and can trace back most of my issues to. As a result I've been reading about and studying child developmental psychology as a personal hobby. I don't want to fuck up my kids like I was fucked up and I don't want to inadvertantly hurt someone else's kids either. I was an undiagnosed ND child with a mother that had her own undiagnosed issues and that's not an excuse. You don't have to know or have words to describe what is wrong with you. You owe it to your children to be a good parent regardless of how you came to that position. I've been reading about child development since I was seventeen because I wanted to understand what was wrong with me and prevent doing the same thing my grandmother did to my mother and my mother did to me. I chose to make myself more aware of how children are affected because I didn't want to inflict any more pain. I broke the cycle because of basic human decency.

There are so many full grown adults in this world taking out their petty issues on their children because they can't take the time to stop and think about how their actions might affect others, just because no one did that for them. My husband should be the poster child for "how to fuck up your kid." He quite literally has a serial killer background, yet by some miracle he chose to be an amazing and selfless father when saddled with parenthood while he was still a child himself. I don't understand how these people go about parenting without thought. I shouldn't have to be ND to be like "I don't know enough about this issue to respond appropriately" and so before inflicting my will upon minors in my care I fucking do some research. Not every issue has to be a deep dive. But you can take 10 minutes to find an appropriate approach.

I'm still learning, and I'm so terrified of making my daughters hate me. Their lives are so stressful and they don't deserve any of it. I am so powerless as a step parent. But regardless of my feelings and fear I'm not going to take it out on them. It's sad that respecting your children as people is an unpopular take.

[sch-com]

Fuck it. I'm going to share my thoughts on suicide in here, since chronic suicidality is like, the main symptom of my brain being fucked up.

So, TW: discussion of suicide.

I thought about suicide long and hard. I've read, and I've researched, and I talked to therapists. And, what I found, is that in my unique situation, I haven't yet found a convincing argument for why I would be wrong to kill myself.

That is not to say that I will - I have my idiot survival instinct and plain old fear to thank for that. Trust me, if I were to kill myself, I would have a thousand times now. But, I'm too much of a coward and also too anhedonic (lol) to actually do it. So please - I'm not in danger, all is fine and dandy ok? Let's try to treat it as an intellectual riddle. Entertainment, sponsored by my silly brain vomit, if you're into that sort of thing.

Is there a good argument against suicide?

Let me first start with some answers that do in fact make sense to me:

a better question to have asked might be "what are the arguments to continue living" and not necessarily "what are the arguments against suicide"

I do find convincing the argument from risk - we have no idea what is after life (at least, I, as an atheist don't) so why risk it?

Now, let me respond (briefly) to (brief) summaries of common agruments I see as a response to this problem:

You will hurt others by dying.

I acknowledge and own to that. Trust me, I personally have no wish to inflict harm on people and it is a dillemma for me. However, I think it's dismissive to only consider the other people's feelings and not the suicidal person's. I still think it's more selfish to expect someone to give up their right to life (and by extension - the right to end ones life) just because it would make others feel bad if they are no longer here.

Suicide is an impulsive decision, a "permanent solution to a temporary problem".

I agree that it can be the case in many cases. Maybe even the majority, I don't know. However, if even for one person (myself) it's *not* an impulsive decision, but rather something you've been contemplating for your whole conscious life, that means that impulsivity is not always the case. While wiritng this post and replies I am *not* in a crisis state. I am far from it (and trust me, I've been there so I know the difference for me). This is what I'm thinking when I'm in a clear state of mind. So, I find it insulting that my thought process is being dismissed on the basis on "you're Ill".

Things might get better.

What do I care. I would be dead. And also you don't know that, things might get worse too.

Appreciate the little things.

The way I feel about this is that life for me is like a cake made of shit, sprinkled with tasty golden dust. Would you eat the shit cake for the golden sprinkles?

Appeal to god / spirituality.

I am not religious, nor spiritual. I don't find those values appealing for me personally.

I don't have a punchline or a nice ending. Make of that what you will.

[ijkramer]

A Tale of Two Months

September is often a meaningful month for Jewish people and this year was no exception. It has the annual rituals associated with the holiest days of the year, triggering myriad family get-togethers, while also functioning as a semi-coincidental opportunity to reconnect with members of your community who you haven't seen over the summer. It's usually joyous in the way that every yearly landmark is, much like Halloween or New Years' Eve or Canada Day.

This year, though, there was a new wrinkle to September.

My family is from Romania. But that's only true if you follow the last handful of generations. Before that we were Austrian and at some point probably German and at another point, maybe Polish or Ukranian. The family tree that has so far been mapped only goes into the 1800s, but it's safe to say that my genes have wound their way through Central and Eastern Europe, likely following the chaotic and poorly understood path of many Jewish Europeans - a survivor's bias of seeking opportunity while fleeing danger. For European Jews, safety and prosperity were fleeting notions; here one generation and gone the next.

And so it goes, that in the summer of 1941, my yet-to-meet-my-grandmother grandfather was visiting his sister and her husband in Iasi in Northeastern Romania at the start of a Romanian-led, but Nazi-supported, pogrom. My great aunt and uncle died during those harrowing days, but my grandfather was loaded onto what became known as "Death Trains" that criss-crossed the Romanian countryside, overloaded with jews picked up - but not killed - during that pogrom. Thousands of the people in those trains died of thirst or starvation or overheating or disease. So many that the train operators would periodically stop to toss the dead bodies out into empty fields, before carrying on. My grandfather was one of the lucky ones. He fainted shortly before one of these unloading stops and was tossed out with the rest of the mass of newly decaying corpses. When he woke up some time later, a farmer noticed him struggling and came to his aid. Eventually, he found his way back to the rest of his family (not to Iasi, but to Bacau, where I would eventually be born). He survived the war, met and married my grandmother and lived happily ever after (or so we'll tell ourselves for the purposes of this post).

So why did I start a post about September, 2023 and veer into an awful anecdote about holocaust-adjacent family trauma from 1941? Because in September of this year, my family received reparations from the German government for what happened to my grandfather.

Yes.

A cheque.

From people on the other side of the world.

Acknowledging and trying to make amends for the hardship they inflicted on my family.

Even though my grandfather has been dead since before I was born!

I was pretty speechless upon receiving this. It didn't warrant a "thank you, Germany," although I did utter it reflexively. But it did bring me a tiny sense of comfort. The kind that says "hey - you know how your family ping-ponged around small towns in Europe for a millenium? We're past that now. Jewish people don't have to worry about that kind of thing anymore." People talk about intergenerational trauma and that's something I've absolutely felt. This felt like some sort of intergenerational relief.

And then October happened and all of that vanished faster than you can say Hamas.

I'm thankful that none of my family was directly involved in the pogrom (or feel free to use whatever term you think fits better here) that took place in Israeli towns and villages just outside of Gaza on October 7th.

I won't get into the politics of what happened that day, and what has happened since. It's a terrible tragedy and will continue to be one for, I fear, many weeks, months and maybe years.

But what I will try my best to articulate (and what has certainly been articulated by others - indeed, many a litre of ink or collection of pixels have been commandeered by the Hamas massacre and subsequent Israeli response) is my personal emotional reaction to these two meaningful and cataclysmic events happening so close to each other.

Like many Jews in the diaspora, I think of Israel as more than just a place where I have a sizeable branch of my family, but I don't really think of it at all through a religious lens. In a way, Israel was more like a "Jewish danger" line-of-credit; if ever the safety balance in the diaspora swings too far towards peril, I could always go there and at least know that the local community wouldn't turn on me. As with any line of credit, my intention is to never withdraw from it...but it is there if I needed it. With the spectre of a war with Gaza potentially engulfing other regional actors, AND with the colossal security failure that was October 7th itself, who in their right mind would say that Israel is a safe-haven for Jews anymore - at least in the near term?

Unfortunately, the ripples of the attack have had unsettling and chilling effects, even here in Canada. The "Global Day of Jihad" that was called for by terrorist leaders in the Middle East was sufficiently terrifying for Jews in the diaspora that Jewish schools and synagogues went largely empty on Friday, October 13th. Meanwhile, official statements from organizations of all shapes and sizes indicated, at best, a lack of empathy for the friends and family of well over a thousand murdered Jews (we won't get into the "at worst" case - it's pretty gnarly). Even in Toronto, a city over 9000km away from Gaza, and with a reputation of being one of the most multicultural, tolerant and welcoming cities in the world, patrons of Jewish-owned businesses were harassed by protesters seeking - erm - either Palestinian statehood or the elimination of Israel or peace (or some combination of the above).

I guess time will tell if those protesters will get any or all of those things, but what they have certainly done is make Jews like myself wonder where the next safe place might be for me and my family. Maybe I can use those German reparations to buy a plane ticket to that place when I find it...

[snailfloss]

back in chapter 6 of Vibing I started figuring out what modern!Kravitz eats by googling “worst freezer meals”, and whenever my partners bring that exact food home I taste ashes as my soul departs

[apixrl]

DRIVER'S LICENSE.

katsuki bakugou x fem! reader

WARNING(S): angst. cheating. swearing because it's bakugou.

word count: 4.5k

song: drivers license // olivia rodrigo (i wonder why...)

note(s): so i captioned this *at the time of writing* 'hello and welcome to i've had the worst two weeks ever so i wrote a katsuki oneshot to cope' and it's probably one of my most personal pieces of writing tbh

"-come Tuesday and we'll potentially see an end to this heavy downpour of rain. Temperatures will be on the rise to around-"

The talk on the radio cut short at the jab of your finger, heaving a great sigh which faded into the muffled pitter-patter of rain from outside. The streets had been showered with heavy downpours for the last week or so, no sign of sun or a still and restful day. Notwithstanding the miserable outdoors, the windscreen wipers on your car never ceased in their duty to grant you a clear view of the road ahead. And whilst you were grateful for their devotion, it didn't feel clear in the slightest. In fact, the road had never felt so blurry.

Shivering against the cold night chill and tucking your knees cosily to your chest, you eyed the raindrops on the windows. They raced against one another before they dripped down to your car's body, their glossy presence obvious thanks to the many hues of street lamps that surrounded them. You could have watched them for hours, being honest. Something about the droplets of water battling it out quite enticing. Anything to take you away from the cruel reality you were living in.

Your heart ached and yearned. But to no avail, the one you ached and yearned for didn't love you back.

Not anymore, at least.

Just the mere thought provoked a pulsating pang to resonate throughout your entire body. A pang filled with grief and sadness. Anger and hurt. You missed his sun-kissed face on the sunny mornings. You missed his eyes and how they gazed at you from across the room. You missed the smiles and laughter he would only show for you and you alone. The sense of glee and euphoria that came with that honour. Yet all of it was gone and there was no way you could get it back.

The memories of what had been triggered more waterworks. Hot, salty tears dug at the corners of your eyes and trickled down your face. Your motionless car concealed your cries and sobs. Every thrash against the wheel as you questioned to nobody in particular what went wrong and why. How you didn't see the signs sooner. What you could have done better. When he stopped loving you. If he ever planned to stop loving you. Whether it would have hurt more if you found out sooner.

All these questions with nothing to answer them.

Katsuki Bakugou had always fascinated you. From the very moment you met. You accompanied your friend on a double date, and he was the guy who she matched for you. Whilst he originally acted as though a blind date was the last place he wanted to be, underneath the aggression you could tell there was something much more genuine and true.

And your assumptions were correct. Truth be told, Katsuki Bakugou was one of the most genuine and truest people you had met (at the time). Once it was just the two of you, he allowed his true colours to unveil. Through the smallest of kind gestures that still haunted your mind to this day. Then upon confrontation, as you bid each other goodbye at your back door, his denial resulted in a flirtatious contest which then proceeded to an intimate night that changed your life forever. From there your mind was set.

He was the one.

Emphasis on was.

So blinded with a fairy tale love you grew so accustomed to, you never saw it coming. Never in your two-year relationship - that had so much strength and commitment built on top of it, never did you think that Katsuki Bakugou would throw it all out of the window like it was nothing. Disregard your loyalty and adoration for a drunken one night stand that slowly became an occasional hookup. Which soon became a mandatory pastime once a fortnight. Then twice. Maybe more than that. You wouldn't put it past him with what you knew now.

He kept it from you for nearly six months. Six months. The only reason you discovered his lies and deception was because you were let off early one night from work. You worked a night shift, see. Your last job had fallen to shambles, and it was temporary whilst you searched for a new one. And whilst that did take a toll on your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou, mostly finding time for intimacy since his working hours were during the day, none of that gave him any right to go and do what he did.

That wasn't one of the only reasons, you knew that for sure. There were other motives for his lack of loyalty. But you were never told. After you froze at the sight of another woman under his hold and stormed straight back to your car to flee. After he chased you down the flights of stairs in nothing but baggy pants into the streets of a twilight Musutafu. After you screamed into the darkness and belted your fists against his chest. Fists that were driven with rage and hurt and every emotion that burned like the hottest of fires and froze like the coldest of ice. He never even told you. He never made an effort to address it. Nor had he attempted to call or even try to visit your Mom's house - where you stayed as you searched for a permanent place to live. Just because you retreated for your car and cried that it was over, he never tried. But that didn't mean you weren't allowed an explanation. An apology. Something to give you a form of closure and a reason to move on. But you never did.

That wasn't even what hurt the most, either.

As silly as it was, the thing that hurt you the most was the very car you sat in.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO . . .

The red glow of traffic lights hit Katsuki's vermilion irises as he stared dead ahead at the long line of vehicles, the ash-blond heaving a sigh into the air. His finger tapped impatiently against the steering wheel he gripped with one hand, the spare rested casually against your upper thigh affectionately.

"I can't believe we have to sit through this torture just to go to some damn party," Katsuki grumbled, taking a glance over at you. His brows furrowed when he met you peacefully slouched down, nose dug into your phone as you presumably played some sort of game to pass the time. Like you had no care in the world for your predicament.

"It's your best friend's birthday, love," You mused back, Katsuki surprised you even listened based on your focused expression directed towards your phone. "It's not like we can just miss it,"

"Yeah, but we could have missed all this pain by taking the train instead of driving across town during rush hour,"

"Trains are icky, the seats would have ruined your suit and my dress," You pointed out, looking at the blond over your screen, sending him a sweet smile. He cocked a brow, a smirk creeping its way onto his lips as a scoff of a laugh broke out between them.

"Right, and laying down like a sloth is gonna help keep your dress uncreased?" He returned, amused at your realisation. At his comment, you sat up faintly and pouted your lip.

"Driving means more time to play Gravity Pops, and so does traffic,"

"Seriously? That's the game you're playing? You're such a dumbass,"

"Yes! I'm in the top 11% globally! I need to get to number one!" Was your protest, your arms flailing ahead of you briefly for dramatic emphasis. Katsuki clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, though the small smile plastered over his lips betrayed his initial reaction. Unable to deny your determination, he spoke with confidence and almost a sense of pride.

"Number one, hm? Clearly rubbing off on you aren't I?"

"In a way, yes,"

"That's my girl," Katsuki remarked, earning a giggle from you that was uplifting to hear. It was there your attention went back to your phone, but Katsuki wasn't done. "So, speaking of cars, Y/N," Hearing his chosen tone - which sounded suggestive, you eyed him closely. Hesitant to reply as you had a sense of what he planned to say.

"...Yes?"

"Have you thought any more about getting your driver's license yet?"

Called it.

"...No,"

"What?" Katsuki began, tilting his head. He was surprised that he felt surprised. You had said those words in regards to this topic countless times. Still, he persisted. "Is that a no meaning you haven't or no meaning that you don't want to?"

"Both?" You half-guessed, sheepishly grinning at the look you were sent. "Look, cars scare me okay? And so do roads. And people. My nerves wouldn't be able to handle it! I can barely communicate with people face to face, so me being on the road is a recipe for disaster!"

"I know but -," Katsuki exhaled sharply, understanding your reasoning. You had voiced these concerns when confiding to Katsuki about your fears of the road. Something built and corrupted from social media as well as phobias and fears in general, it was a battle you had yet to overcome. You wanted to drive but was terrified of messing up or causing chaos on the road. Potentially inflicting harm to someone and yourself. You still weren't sure what triggered it all, but over the years it had manifested into something quite irrational, to say the least. Katsuki had been supportive of it and whilst he truly would love to always act as your personal taxi - you couldn't hide from it forever. It wasn't his job to keep you in your comfort zone. That, and he couldn't always be there for you that way. What if he was miles away and you had somewhere urgent to go like the hospital? "It's not as scary as you think. I know it's hard to believe that but seriously. The freedom you get from driving is amazing,"

"I'll think about it a little longer, okay?" You said with hesitancy, looking at Katsuki for a sign of confirmation. He nodded in defeat, knowing you probably needed more time and felt put on the spot. So he averted his eyes back to the road to check if the traffic had moved at all. It had not.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "But I can't be your taxi service forever,"

"But I like you being my taxi service," You jokingly said, a little sadness in your tone. "Your road rage is funny and I like watching you get out of the car and walk to my door after pulling up in my driveway,"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki asked, catching the twitch of a smile on your face upon saying those words. It struck his interest in what you could mean.

"You know, like when you say you're coming to pick me up?" You explained. "You pull up at my driveway and I don't know... simple things like that just remind me of how much I love you. It's dumb really, but it's important to me,"

"Really?" Katsuki questioned in disbelief. How something so small and meaningless could mean so much was puzzling. He couldn't understand why it was so special to you. But that didn't invalidate it in any shape or form. So he pushed that aside, replacing his wonder with gratitude. He returned to your bashful and flustered features, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"Yeah," You said, shrugging to downplay your words. "I love you. Stuff like that means a lot to me,"

"I love you too, even though you're a dumbass," Katsuki said, humbled by what you had said. The two of you shared a gentle exchange, your hand grabbing hold of Katsuki's as you gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back, and silence ensued. Had he realised such a thing sooner, then Katsuki would have pulled up in your driveway much more than he had been doing. But at that a thought struck his mind, victoriously smirking as he had an idea on how to potentially sway your worries. Or begin swaying it. Something was better than nothing, after all. "But what if I wanted you to pull up in my driveway one day?" His words caused you to look over at him in curiosity, hearing the seriousness in the question. It caught you off guard momentarily, having to contemplate as you gradually concluded that he had a point.

"Well one day, maybe I will," You vaguely replied and sat up a little bit. The hand holding yours pulled back and lifted to land on your shoulder, gripping reassuringly tight.

"I hope you do, I'd like to get in on this driveway action," He joked and smirked, faith riddled in his expression. You giggled ever so slightly, tempted to lean forward and peck Katsuki on the lips in thanks, but never a thing was to happen as the alerting red light from outside switched to warm amber.

"Ah!" Katsuki yelled in triumph, his attention leaving you swiftly as he got back into the driver's seat. Giving you no opportunity to respond to him and overall ruining the moment. "Took fucking long enough!"

The light turned green, and he set the car in motion, leaving you with your thoughts and the words he had uttered that day as the traffic stood still.

All your efforts, all your time devoted to getting over your fear of driving and the road as a whole... all of it was pointless. You did it for him. You promised him you would overcome your fears and better yourself. He built that motivation up brick by brick until you could grab hold and seize control. He wasted all that time to get you to reach such a stepping stone only to abandon it once it was through.

Just so you could pull up in his driveway, just like he requested. And what did you get in return when you finally did? A stab in the back and the loss of your other half.

You wiped your eyes via the sleeve of your hoodie, dampening the cuffs. Sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath, your gaze landed on nothing in particular. Yet somewhere within your clouded mind, you found interest. As that was where your gaze remained for a certain amount of time. You weren't sure how long exactly. It could have felt like an hour and only been five minutes. Or it could have felt like five minutes and was actually an entire hour. Either way, the clock ticked on and didn't wait for you to stop.

It was a good thing you had pushed your fears down and rose above them. It just pained you that you didn't even do it for yourself. Without Katsuki Bakugou, you never had any intentions of doing so. As a matter of fact, you had set out to take the train or bus for the rest of your life. Hell, you were going to use a bike and scooter if you got desperate. Had he even acknowledged how much work you put in just to get where you were? Was all that effort part of the reason why he decided to cheat? There was absolutely no telling. Absolutely no telling at all.

You wondered what he was doing now. Was he laid in bed resting peacefully? Out with his friends for a boy's night only? Maybe cooking his favourite curry? Possibly on a late-night jog despite the harsh weather? It never stopped him other times.

Did he ever think about you? Regret what he did and the actions he took? Had he ever considered apologising? Would he ever apologise? What if he was celebrating the fact you were no longer in his life? Had there ever been any love there for you in the start? Did he ever actually want you to get your driver's license because he believed in you? Or was it so he could get rid of you with much more ease? Make his departure less severe and less selfish? A way to justify his choices because it's not like you were hopelessly left to suffer everyday life now that you had a means of transport. Was he really that cruel?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jingle of your phone, the device lighting up as it sat in the passenger seat to your left. It took two or three rings for you to glance over at it, E/C eyes sore and drained from crying out. You squinted them to read the caller, seeing the name 'Work' fade in and out on the brightly lit screen. For a second or two you argued back and forth on whether to even bother picking up. Something about reaching across for your phone requiring a magnitude of energy you no longer possessed. Having spent it all on your cries of agony and the deprivation of your old life as a whole.

However, you had ignored your work in the last couple of weeks too many times now. So many times that pulling the same stunt again would probably risk you losing your job. It's not like your work was interested in why you felt such overwhelming pain... all they cared about was you turning up to do what you were hired to.

So using a forceful hand, you leaned over to pick it up. You fumbled to grip your phone and accepted the call with a dainty tap of your thumb. Then you blinked away your tears and subtly sniffed, pressing your phone to your ear to address the caller.

"Hello?" You practically croaked, quick to clear your throat and push any signs of upset down. It was presumably dry from how much you'd cried in the last two hours.

"L/N! Hey! Glad you finally picked up!" Unlike the droll and unvarying tones of your boss, the person on the other end was much more lively and greeting. So much so you could only assume it was none other than your work colleague, Etsuko. Probably the only person you genuinely liked where you worked, and the only person who made the time pass by faster. "I was worried you were gonna leave me on answer phone again,"

"Hm, what? Oh right. Yeah. Sorry about that. Haven't been feeling too great," You lied, even though it wasn't a complete fib. You hadn't been feeling great at all. You had never felt so rock bottom. It all just originated from your mind over anything else. But when did work care about that?

"Sounds like it, I hope you've been okay!" Still cheery as ever, Etsuko followed up with a laugh to fill the silence you created by not saying anything. "Is everything well? It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No. It's not. Just some dumb cold I caught," You excused. "I'm better now, though," Slouching down in your seat, you decided to ask the question that had been roaming your mind the last minute or so. "So why are you calling?"

"Oh, right!" Etsuko said. "Mr Kobashigawa was just wondering when you planned on coming back - for schedule reasons and to get people to fill in for your shifts,"

"I er...," Not entirely sure how to answer, you stuttered as your words cowered away in your attempt to speak. "I don't -,"

"It's okay, he doesn't need an answer yet," Etsuko reassured. "Maybe in the next day or two, though? He wasn't really specific, being honest,"

You sighed at the guilt brewing in your stomach. You weren't even sick for crying out loud! Why were you lying just so you could wallow in your own sadness?! Like that was going to change anything! Sitting around and crying wasn't going to give you what you wanted. You weren't getting him back. Katsuki Bakugou wasn't yours anymore. He made that clear by cheating. By making minimal effort to give you an explanation. By causing you so much pain with little care or concern. Why couldn't you get it through your thick skull that your feelings didn't matter anymore?! That they were being wasted on a lost cause. A lost relationship!

"Well I mean -," You started, running a hand through your hair as you tread carefully on your words. "I could come in tonight? Has Mr Kobashigawa got someone to fill for me yet?"

"Um... no? I don't think so?" Etsuko answered, uncertainty in her voice. "Let me go check. Be right back!" And with that, the line fell dead. The call didn't end, just Etsuko placing the phone down to get an answer for you. Leaving you all by your lonesome once more.

Reflecting, you could see the logic in your thoughts. The best course of action would be to hold your head up high and live life the way it was before. When you were happy. Just... excluding the factors that actually made you happy. Which was him. Wouldn't that be healthier than crying all the time?

Yes, it would. But was it what you wanted? Not really.

"L/N!" The voice in your ear startled you to the point you nearly dropped your phone, panicking through a gasp as you fiddled to grab hold of it again.

"Wa-! Careful you nearly scared me half to death!"

"Oops, sorry!" Etsuko giggled softy, sounding as perky as ever. "I'm just excited to tell you that nobody's filling in your shift! You can still come in for ten-thirty!"

"I-I can?" You asked. After an upbeat 'yeah!' filtered through your ears, you considered your options. Remaining in the serene, quiet confines of your car with only the downfall of rain to accompany you sounded like utter bliss, given how you felt. But you felt an internal kick up the backside which told you - no... demanded you to just get over this moping attitude of yours and look on the bright side. To get over the lack of closure and simply... move on.

Yeah... if he found out you were an utter train wreck thanks to the damage he inflicted; Katsuki Bakugou would probably revel in it. He had a history of gaining pleasure from other's misfortunes... or it was rumoured he did (during his younger years, anyway). You had never wanted to believe it but you couldn't find a reason to refute it anymore. After all you had been through, it seemed to fit his character and personality more than ever. So with that fact apparent, you held a firm forefront and searched for a determined tone, and made your answer to your friend.

"You betcha I'm coming in! I'll see you in half an hour!"

Too enthusiastic? Probably. Still, it was better than acting pessimistic and hopeless. No matter, however, because that was exactly the attitude Etsuko had been hoping for.

"Alrighty!" She exclaimed, smile audible in her voice from the other end. "I can't wait to get our dynamic duo going again! I've missed you!"

"Yeah, me too, 'Suko," You hummed in agreement.

"Great! Catch ya later my partner in crime,"

"Heh. You too, dumbass," You found a reason to smile from her childish behaviour, though your choice of wording seemed to hit a nerve. It did more than that, it practically reverted all that confidence and progress you had made in the last ten minutes of being on the phone. All from one innocent word that escaped your lips.

Dumbass.

That's what he used to call you.

The phone call had ended without you even noticing, your phone still pressed to your ear as a small buzz sounded into it. You stared dead ahead, flashes of all the times he had said that word to you running through your memory. It was his form of a pet name. Some might see it as a little degrading on the surface, but you never minded. Once you learned the deeper meaning of the name, it became something equivalent to the likes of 'Sunshine' or 'Angel'. If anything, you ended up preferring it to those sorts of nicknames. Hence why Katsuki Bakugou had called you it on so many occasions.

No. Stop it. You can't let something like that bother you. Not after the efforts you just went to. Stop. Shaking yourself out of it, you returned to reality and permitted your phone to drop onto your lap. Your hand once holding it gripped onto your steering wheel, the other following shortly behind to do the same.

"I love you too, even if you're a dumbass,"

That rung in your head one final time, tormenting and mocking your present. The things you'd be willing to do to hear him say that to you one last time...

"No," You firmly shook your head, banging it lightly against the headrest to return yourself to reality. An attempt to knock those words to the back of your mind where you could lock them in a securely tight safe for the rest of eternity. "Just... just don't think about it. Easy. Just focus on what you're doing now," You reached for your keys which sat in the ignition, taking hold and turning them ever so slightly. Your car stirred to life, engine rumbling and the dials lighting up in a form of warm greeting. "You're going to work. No more feeling sorry for yourself,"

No more feeling sorry for yourself.

Your eyes set themselves on the road ahead. The vacant, dark and solitary road that didn't wait for you to make your decision. Life moved on after all, so if you were going to do anything - it was to catch up and take the winning lead.

So despite your circumstances; your inner desires and wishes and begs for what you wanted back but to no avail would ever get, you pulled out of your parking space (which had long exceeded the time limit, thankfully nobody was around to see) that drowned in pitiful rains of the night, and began to make your way down the street. In search of a place better than the one you were trapped in.

An endless road that wasn't all that clear, you were going to tackle it. Not for anyone else, unlike the last time you met difficulty and hardships. No, no, no. This time it was for your sake. All the mental energy to recover and become a better version of yourself, in the endgame it was all for you. You could push past all the deceit and lies you had been told and you could push past your normality which was him. Katsuki Bakugou. The man that hurt you as nobody had ever done before. You could create new normality without him.

A thought of forever he created and destroyed, resorted to driving alone past his street, never to be thought of again.

[we-dragons]

I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 9 Damian x reader

"What is this place, why is it shaped like a T?" We stand on an island with this enormous building smack in the center of it the sunset shade casting a large shadow over us, I can't get over how ridiculous it looks. Or contemplate my confusion, Nightmare makes an unimpressed huff and nuzzles back into my shoulder.

"Titan's tower."

"why would this be a good place to hide? It's the most obvious building here, I ran with you for several days I'm beginning to think I would be safer under my floorboards." He walks up to the doors and pulls out a card holding it in front of the circular panel. It beeps and a clicking noise comes from the door.

"Believe me this would be a better place for you." I sigh a form of any and all anxiety pools in my body, but I still meet him at the now unlocked door.

"Alright fine but you need to explain to me why here of all places."

"When we get inside." The doors swing open, the area behind it lights up leading to what I assume is an elevator. I'm pulled inside not giving me a chance to look around. "Hey!" He doesn't answer but pulls us into the elevator, I don't see him push a button but we almost immediately move up. It's fast but not as fast as the one I had to go down for training at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Though the feeling is familiar and I start missing my classmates all over again. I rub the wrist that Damian was holding to dragging me here. Nightmare growls at the space moving him and interrupting his nap. The space stops and the door opens to an open space that looks like a large living room. a white angled couch a large kitchenette and an impossibly large TV by open glass windows. The room has several people all staring at us, my anxiety hits me tenfold and I take a step back. A hand is at my shoulder the moment I do and pushes slowly while moving itself. The doors close signaling that I'm truly stuck here, a woman with Neon pink hair and bronze skin zooms up to us.

"It's so good to see you, and I see you brought a friend. Richard has been looking all over for you."

"I know that's why you can't tell him we're here." I'm pushed forward. "She's a mutant possessing the X-Gene, my father wants to interrogate her for the information, she needs to stay here till a better solution becomes present. Can she stay here?"

"Well of course she can stay-"

"What?!" Nightmare jumps from my arms and hisses. I walk backward, taking in this new information. "How did, you find out when-when." Fear creeps how long had he known how much trouble was or might be in. But he didn't mention this. but then again why would he. How does he know about the X-Gene though, from the research I did there were none here with it. The closest there was were Metahumans but even they didn't have anything close. My back hits the wall and I return to the world Nightmare growls standing guard in front of me. Everyone who was in the room now stood in front of me, a boy that was green from head to toe, another girl in a purple cloak and unitard, and another boy with something attached to his back. The pink-haired woman steps forward, but Nightmare swats at her yowling as a warning to keep away. She raises her hands in surrender but looks at me.

"There is no need to be afraid, I knew people like you, Jean Grey, Cyclops. they came here by accident once a few friends and I helped them get back. It would have been 7 years ago now." Damian steps forward Ignoring Nightmare, guilt is painted slightly on his face he tries to coax me from the wall. "I'm sorry I knew since the time you showed me, I checked my recorder after that visit and played it back home in front of everyone. I was to find out more from you and report back after we scanned those samples that healed me. When we were ready I was supposed to bring you back with me for interrogation with confirmation of your mother's research." Something snaps inside me and I glare at him.

"So all that was for those stupid journals. Wow, for how long were you faking nice. No, don't tell me it'll just feel worse. " I put a hand on my face willing the emotions of confusion to stop. A crackling noise makes its self known in front of me followed by screams.

"Holy Crap that thing has tentacles coming from its face!"

"Ahh!"

I gasp at the sight Nightmare had gone full flerken and is attempting to drag Damian in. I lunge at Nightmare dragging him across the floor. He lets go of Damian but he hasn't changed back to cat form. "Nightmare No! Calm down I'm fine I swear it! Stop!" The black fuzzball retracts his tentacles and hisses at the crowd.

"I'm sorry, he gets like that when he sees me upset sometimes. Not sure if you have them here but he's half flerken, they look like cats but they're quite deadly." I set Nightmare down and he crawls behind my legs once again hissing particularly at the green boy how has gotten closer, he turns into a green cat making Nightmare run in the process. Damian limps forward his leg is bleeding through his suit. I would let that heal naturally if only wounds inflicted by Nightmares in the flerken form never heal normally on their own.

"Y/N these are the Titans, the one mimicking your," he waves his hand in the air as if to find the world. "flerken is Garfield." He points to Nightmare being chased my the green cat attempting to lose him. The bronze woman glides forward stomping a foot from me the others followed behind.

"Hello my name is Starfire you can call me Kori, this here is Raven," She points to the purple girl then moves her other hands to the boy. "and this is Jaime. We are pleased to have you here Y/N." She grabs my hand pulling me away from the middle of the room where I had landed. "Now let's get you settled in I'll talk to Damian for a bit after." Nightmare notices my leaving and jumps onto my right sholder hissing at the green-skinned boy.

_____________________________________________________________

I honestly don't know how to feel, to be honest, I should have guessed it so it's my fault. I could have left him and then this wouldn't have happened, but then he would have died in my apartment. Could have been more hostile, but then he definitely would have gone with the kidnapping strategy and I would be already in the hand of batman. Now I'm in the known world of their superheroes, the superheroes know about the Crows and they know about the X-gene. That information can go from good to bad in minutes. Though Kori did know about Jean and Scott, though it was years ago they have traveled through many universes with a small team. I would have been about 10 when this happened and my mother didn't take me there for classes till I was 12. In their lectures, they didn't mention anything like this they did bring in Doctor Strange to teach those of us who could understand how to perform magic. I Now I'm sitting on an insanely comfortable bed knees curled up to my chest just reminiscing. I have been told to use my abilities only when necessary as not to attract any unwanted attention. But what did I do, I screw up my chances of living normally till Doc Strange can pull me back only to find I'm not in my home where I should be. Everything was going so smoothly till now.

The door opens behind me and by the almost silent footfalls, I can tell it's Damian. Nightmare has jumped into my arms forcing me to let go off my legs and watch as the boy drags a chair to face me.

"I suppose you want the whole story now," I said barely looking at him.

"I wasn't going to talk about that yet."

"What did you think you would find in the journals that my mother wrote?"

"An answer on how to stop the Crows."

"You most likely will."

"Than what's in them."

I sigh looking him dead in the eye, pulling myself together for this.

"My mother didn't only study history, in my dimension, she studied all sorts of fields one day she was asked to study something and was gone for almost six months. We hardly heard from her but just enough to know she was alive so naturally when she came back she swore me into secrecy. She explained that she had gone to another world entirely, she studies with them and when she came back more time had passed than when she was there. One journal explaining how she got the and how to get in and another explaining what she found, and the rules for everything she experienced there. She learned things no human should know and kept it from the people she worked for and everyone else. She-she found Avalon, lived among the fey in return for her curiosity and genuine interest they helped her make a guide and history of all fairy and Fae both the pure and the equally disturbed." I reach in my bag and pull out the books from missing from the very research my mother so loved. One being ordinary leather-bound and the other two bear a glowing purple gem on both sides of a very purple dark Tome thick and pooling with some sort of energy as the gem. I give him a serious look gripping both books. "She left it to me but I haven't read them yet, I...I couldn't bring myself to. It might be better used in your hands anyway. Though I shouldn't I still trust you for some reason, so under the conditions that you only use what you find for the better of those in need you may find your information. The journals, however, will stay within my sight understood." He nods, I start to give the leather books to him he stops me.

"I don't want to see them before you," He takes the books from my hands and places them back in the bag. "If you are convinced that I should still read them, then I will convince where ever you wish to study them." He sits on the bed next to me staring out the window. "What I want to talk about is how we get Father not to view you as a threat and as a friend. I went over it with Starfire and we both agree this is the best option." He pauses before he continues. "We're you a hero in your world?"

"You want me to do hero's work and gain a positive reputation so that he's more willing to work with me than slowly forcing out of me."

"Yes."

"How do you know about the X-gene?"

"It was in our database from when Jean Grey and Cyclops had visited. They helped take down an invasion of the skrul and took them back with them to their own dimension. Father took some DNA samples to work with and ask about their abilities. There are entire folders on the subject alone." He pauses again running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Not for that, for everything else."

"Yes that is very much on you but it's also on me. But if I had left you with Crow poison in your blood you would either turn into an undead flesh puppet in my room or die. That would not have gone down well for either of us. I was also mostly upset you broke my window and wanted compensation," I see him visibly tense and clench his teeth. "and didn't even bother to say thank you."

"I Fixed your awful goddammed window isn't that thanks enough." He glares at me.

"Was it? After all, you did spy on me and report it to the Dark Knight." I fall back onto the bed. "There's no getting out of this now might as well get used to it."

"You shouldn't be this comfortable with what's happening, I wouldn't"

"Then why are you smiling ya weirdo, It's almost creepy."

"Tsk, just hand me your computer so I can pull up Star Trek, I would like to finish and begin the movies." I hand him my laptop and he walks over to the wall in front of the bed.

"Um, you know we watch on that computer you making a get away with."

"Yes but the enormous 4k TV is here." He pushes a button I didn't even see before and as promised a TV appears. He smirks at what I assume is my expression. He opens my computer and within minutes Star Trek is cast on the TV. "Please hold your applause till after the show."

"Did you just make a joke? Are you joking now?"

"Aren't I allowed to have a sense of humor?" I Look at Nightmare who has the same thought in his head and I look back at Damian.

"Nope, Nada, No way."

"You know, you're the only one who has talked to me that way and lived."

"I should consider myself lucky then huh."My gaze falls to his leg, It's poorly bandaged so I pull my scales and Med-kit from my bag. " But before I forget I need to treat your leg before your tissue becomes necrotic. You can watch while I work, but you need to swallow one more of the "glittered plastic"."

_____________________________________________________________

"How do you make them?"

"The scales?" I pause stoping the wrap on the angry-looking tentacle mark on his skin.

"What do you think I was talking about?" I smile evilly.

"I thought you were talking about my jokes and wonderful sense of humor." I tie off the bandage and put away my first aid kit. "But If you must know it has to rain first, and I have to be in it. The acidity in the rain is was caused the scales to form but there has to be enough of it. In Gotham, the rain has plenty of it, It soaks into my skin and drains my health which is why I was sick for so long. In return for taking my health, the scales form with healing agents that even baffle me. Normally I would take one and feel fine after but someone decided to take them."

"Do you pull them off?"

"Takes too long and much too painful, I just pour scalding hot water on myself and they pull away from the skin. I clean them and there you have it. Health restoring scales." He stares at me, like I said I pour milk before cereal and then pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds in that order.

"Aren't there better ways to remove them?"

"Yes, but those are back at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters I couldn't pack it with me so I had to find other methods."

He silent again so I put my stuff in the closet, take my Suit out from the bag, and place it on the hanger, the vibranium fibers shimmer in the soft lights then I stuff the rest of my things in there. I have to tell Professor Xavier what's happened on the check update next week with any luck the multi-functional com-piece found the data by now and I can see what they already know. I inwardly sigh, closing the closet and making my way back to the bed. I see Damian drawn into the scene playing on the screen, Data has made his sacrifice saving the Enterprise. I wasn't expecting to last the cleaning to last that long, but then again the poisons from the suction cups dug deeper than I thought. I put some more things away in drawers even though I didn't have much to bring. "We probably should head to bed, I imagine I have to do a proper introduction and demonstrate some form of my power."

"Yes, probably." He gets up grabbing the two scales I gave him for when he starts feeling pain again. Moving swiftly to the door, he takes one more look back then leaves. My eyes fall on Nightmare who sleeps soundly on the end of the bed. I Climb into the warm comforter letting the warmth surround me. I don't even notice myself drifting till all I can hear is static signaling that tonight was going to be a dreamless one.

_____________________________________________________________

"What exactly can you do?" Starfire walks me down to the center of a metallic room filled with weapons and tools, no doubt the training room. I look around more absorbing the room but still answer the question.

"If I see something I can almost instantly learn it or adapt to it, powers, fighting styles, languages I just have to see or hear it. I've had to control it in order not to learn everything and overload happened one time was not pretty."

"What do you mean by almost instantly?"

"Things like shape-shifting are hard to master, but if I concentrate enough I can alter my physical appearance though it takes five minutes to get there and can't hold the form very well after an hour. The first time I saw someone change form my body tried to copy it but I broke my hand instead. But oddly enough I can learn most other powers and knowledge just fine."

"Really? Well just to check could you copy this?" Starfire lifts her hand and green energy forms around it. I lift my hand to match hers and form the same energy in my body, though not green It's a lilac purple. "Sorry still have trouble getting the colors right." The woman stares in awe at my hand, the knowledge of how to use the ability is stored in my memory. I turn my hand light off and look around. She had given me the tour of the building and probably saved this for last to test what I can do. They did the same at XSFGY and had us fight in the ever-changing challenge/training room. I hear the door open and two cheery voices call out.

"Hey Y/N, about to train?" Garfield, the boy in green calls out from the railing where the door is accompanied by Jamie how still looks half asleep.

"I was just about to test her now, could you all stay there, I'm going to pull the full immersion-based training." She floats to a podium on the far side of the room. the area around me pixelated before stilling into a jungle heat and all. Monsters appear from the undergrowth enough level but not easy looking. I raise two fingers to the sky and strike lightning on them Increasing the voltage when one didn't go down, I even open a few portals in the body to warp holes from the flesh. It took about a few minutes to finish and for the simulation to fall. The dark misty cloud vanishes when I flick my wrist. I hear cheering from the side, I turn to face them everyone was now there.

"No way! Did you just see that!!" Jamie is now wide awake sharing an amazing look with Garfield, Raven is a little shocked, while Damian holds a stoic face. I feel a hand on my shoulder and follow it up to the orange-haired woman. I don't catch that she isn't stopping and is dragging me out of the room. With the way her hand had angled, I dragged out facing the other people in the room. She moves so fast that they get so small to quickly "You did excellently today, I'm so happy to welcome you to the team! We shall celebrate with a feast fit for kings and I shall cook it."

"Wait!"

"Kori!"

"Aw hell no!"

"YOU COOKED THE OTHER DAY!"

They all start running after us, shouting and trying to stop the woman. I feel refreshed after getting the OK for using my powers finally releasing some of the tension I've felt. I feel exhausted though, probably anticipating all the social interactions yet to come.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Stay With Me (Pt. 01 of 09)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Word count: 2.9 K

Summary: Daryl found you surrounded by the dead, stuck in the backseat of a car. You were wishing for death to take you away for quite a while now, but, as you slid back and forth into consciousness, there was only one thing keeping you alive. Him, the man with blue, worried eyes and kind voice. Your beaten up body was ready to give up, too wounded and broken to keep going. But this man, who went out of his way to save your life is the only thing in the world holding you up. And, because of him, you feel something you haven't felt in a very long time: hope. Wherever he's taking you, you want to get there, and not only to be buried. For what it feels like the very first time, you want to live. He takes you back to Alexandria, but even there, the nightmares and the terror from all the torture and pain you've been through keeps creeping closer, and Daryl, your hero, is the only one who can keep that all away.

Warnings: Mentions and description (not graphic) of past abuse; post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD); some violence at the end of the story (a little bit graphic, but not so much); blood.

Next part (02) ->

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

A/N: I want to thank my awesome friend @jodiereedus22 , who helped me (and still does) a lot to get this story done. She's also a writer and she's amazing so please go check her work!!

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Blue Eyes and Angel Wings

“Stay with me.”

The sentence is the only thing keeping you alive. The only thing keeping you from surrendering into darkness permanently. The lips from where they flow belong to the human blur that's constantly in your sight. The man with worried, blue eyes, the eyes that gave you something you didn't have for a very long time.

Hope.

You have been in the backseat of the useless car you stole, out of gas, surrounded by a sea of death. Their hands pushing the glass, blocking the daylight from coming in as you lied down, trying not to move, not to breathe, waiting for them to move along. But they didn't. Your sore, beat up body struggled, as the blood dried, as the wounds ached, as the pain became greater and greater until it stopped. Until your body went numb.

The glass wouldn't resist for too long. You only wished you'd die before they reached you.

The notion of time left your mind after a while. You only noticed as the day became night when the darkness overcame you completely. It happened twice. And yet, there you were still, more dead than alive, eyes locked on the back of the driver seat before you.

You don't understand why you didn't just die. Why your body was still trying to live. It was useless. A waste of time. In death, maybe, you'd find peace.

But at some point in your agony, a gap among the dead allowed the light to come in. But it only lasted a second before it was gone. Then it happened again. Your tired eyes followed the source of the light as they kept coming, over and over. Until you saw it. One of the dead falling, colliding against the window with an arrow on its head.

Someone had to fire that arrow, you thought. More gaps kept coming, and some of them remained for a little while. You didn't think you'd love the daylight so much, that you could miss the sun so much. Holding your breath, closing your eyes tightly shut, you used all the strength left in you to push yourself up, until you were seated, back colliding against the leather of the backseat. When another arrow came, your head moved to look for the source. That's when you saw him.

Blue eyes. Living eyes. They found you, going wide at the sight.

The dead kept dying. For another day and a half, until they were gone.

“Stay with me.” He says again, as your eyes open just enough to see the bottle he's holding before you. “Hold on. Jus’ a lil’ longer.” You feel the bottle touching your lips, and water fills your mouth, but most of it just rolls down, soaking your neck, chest, and clothes.

“Alright. Let's get goin’.” When he turns around, doing something out of your sight, your eyes fall on the angel wings on his vest. That's the image that burns in your head as you slip into your half-conscious state, being lifted up once again, moving, floating, hurting.

Sometimes you wonder if he only found you to carry you into death. Because that's where you feel like your heading. Right into death.

• • •

Breathing comes easily. A lot easier then it has for the last... You don't know. Time is lost to you, minutes, hours, days or weeks, it's all mixed up.

But you shouldn't be breathing if you're dead, then maybe you're not. Pushing the air in, a groan leaves your lips when a sharp pain on your side pushes the air out again. The pain is back. Death doesn't hurt, so this gotta be life.

So with that thought in your mind, you force your eyes to open, taking in a bright white ceiling. There's something in your face, covering the nose and mouth, and you're quick to remove it, suddenly realizing that thing was helping with the breathing. Your eyes scan through the place, seeing shelves and things on top of them. Beeps on your right, windows, and equipments you don't know.

Hospital. It looks like a hospital. But how can you be at a hospital?

“She wasn't just hurt, she was–”

The voice makes your heart start pounding, and you sit up, breathing heavily. You wonder where's the man with blue eyes. Did he leave you here?

The door is opened and two women come in. Pure terror clouds your senses and your blood runs cold, like ice. It can't happen again. It can't be happening again. You couldn't be given such a tiny bit of hope jut to fall into the same nightmare.

The younger woman moves, just a little, but it's enough to make you jump, pushing yourself further away, your body leaving the bed and hitting the ground hard. Trying to get up is useless. You know your body won't respond, so you pull the hospital bed down, and it collapses loudly on the floor. The tears already cover your face as you crawl backward until you find a wall. There's no place to go now. No way to run, or fight. You're trapped.

They'll hurt you again and there's nothing you can do.

Covering your head with both your hands, you pull your legs into your chest, despite the pain it shoots through your body, curling into a ball. As if it would protect you from anything.

“Honey?” Someone says in a low, feminine voice. “We won't hurt you.”

You've heard that before. It's always a lie.

“Hello?”

“Denise. Go get Daryl. Now.”

You feel them coming closer, and you hear as the hospital bed is lifted. This is it. It'll start. All over again.

“Hi, there.” A voice says, the same voice you've been listening for a while. Telling you to stay awake, to stay alive. Carrying you, holding you.

He's here. He didn't leave you.

Soaking in a sharp breath, you raise your head, your eyes finding him by the door. Your whole body relaxes, almost involuntary. The man hesitates, looking at the woman before making his way over you. The blue eyes capture you as he crouches next to you.

The words try to make they way out, but your throat is dry, sore.

“I'm Daryl.” He says, looking down before looking at you once again. “Yer hurt. Ya need to be taken care of.” He moves to the side a little, gesturing at the two women. “They'll take care of ya. Ok?”

Nodding weakly, you try to move, to stand up, but you don't know how to. When you look at your leg, you finally notice the blood that soaked the fabric of your jeans, ripped in the middle of your tight, giving you a sight of what's underneath. Your skin was sliced open, and you remember why. And who did it. The smile on his face as he drew the knife through your skin, inflicting the last wound he could before the dead came. Before you fled that hell on Earth.

Through the corner of your eye, you see Daryl's hand.

“I've been hurt too. I know how yer feelin’. But these people only want to help, alright?”

Lifting your eyes from his hands to his face, you remember it clearly now, with no share of doubt, how this man took care of you. For how long he carried you after almost two days killing off the dead for you. Slowly, you lay your shaking hand on top of his.

Slowly, moving your legs and holding your breath, you gather the courage to stand up again.

“I can put ya in the bed.” Daryl offers, and you lock eyes with him again. “I'm gonna pick ya up, is that alright?”

Nodding again, you watch as he slowly moves, an arm on your back and the other under your legs, slowly, carefully pulling you up. Soon enough you feel the soft mattress against your back as Daryl puts you down. Breathing out in relief, you see a woman approaching, the younger one, and Daryl steps back.

In a jolt of adrenaline, as fear starts building up again, you reach out, the sudden, fast movement making you groan a little when pain spreads through your arm. But you keep moving, grabbing Daryl's hand before he's out of reach. His skin is warm against yours, or maybe you're just too cold. You try to speak again, ask him to stay, beg if needed, but it just doesn't come out. Then you just look into his eyes, hoping it will be enough, squeezing his hand just a little bit.

“Daryl, I think she needs you to stay.” The other woman says, the one with gray hair. “Is that what you want, honey?”

Without looking away from Daryl, you nod, relieved when he steps closer.

“I'll start, ok? I need to see where exactly you're hurt and how serious the injuries are.”

“That's Denise,” Daryl explains, and you look at the girl as she hesitates before taking a scissor from somewhere, cutting your jeans just above the wound you saw. “And that's Carol. Ya can trust them, alright?”

Can you?

Holding Daryl's hand, you moan and wince, as many tears roll down. Every shot of pain makes you go back to imprisonment. The dark basement, the cold concrete, the men and women who came to hurt you, beat you, trying to force you to agree on complying with their filthy desires. And every time you said no, it got worse.

If it wasn't for Daryl's hand, you'd swear you were back there, being tortured again. But he keeps you anchored here, and you try to keep in mind that these people are trying to help. He said they would, so they might be.

“I will need her cleaned up before continuing. There's a lot of mud, dirt, and dried blood. I need her body to be clean to avoid any infections.” The woman Denise says.

“I can help her,” Carol speaks up.

“Good. Let's put her on the bathtub we have here.” Denise speaks fast, and you can't do anything but follow her with your eyes, motionless. “Daryl, get her some clothes. But pay attention. Nothing tight. And get those cotton shorts, you know? They look like leggings but are really short, I don't want nothing squeezing her leg, this wound is worrying me, and I–”

“Denise, why don't you go get those. I'll clean her up and...” Carol gives you a glance. “...I don't think she'll let go of Daryl.”

“Alright.” She nods, getting a piece of fabric to clean her hands. Clean them from your blood.

“Ok, honey. Let's do this.” When Denise leaves, Carol comes closer. “Daryl will take you to the bathroom and I'll help you, is that ok?”

Squeezing Daryl's hand, you look at him. Even though he's a man, you know you'd feel better if he helped you instead of this Carol.

“Daryl can stay there. Looking away. Would that make you feel better?”

Breathing out in relief, you nod. “I'll pick ya up then. Ready?” Daryl asks, carefully moving to hold you in his arms once again.

You close your eyes shut as the small trip to the bathroom makes your body complain. Your state of numbness is fading, so the pain gets more and more real now. It's hard to tell exactly where it comes from. You're aware of the cut on your leg, and sharp pain on your side, but all the rest is just mixed up.

Daryl puts you down in the tub, slowly. Carol comes in soon after, kneeling and turning on the water. Your eyes follow Daryl as he moves to the door, standing there, his back at you, giving you the sight of the angel wings on his back. Seeing it makes you relax, and you close your eyes to feel the warm water filling the tub.

Carol is patient. Very patient. The last thing you want is to take off your clothes, so she asks and waits until you let her help you remove them. The wounds burn in contact with the water, and the fact that you must rub the soap on them, to avoid any infections, only makes it worse. You can't help the tears rolling down, and the groans that leave your mouth. It feels good to take a bath, to remove all the mud and dirt, but you wish it didn't hurt this much. Your eyes always fall on Daryl, just to make sure he's still there. Carol also washes your hair, and you're thankful for that because you'd never be able to do that yourself.

After some time, you don't really know how much, you're done, and you have no choice but to sit on the edge of the tub as Carol helps you get dressed. The doctor, Denise, got you black underwear, a light gray tank top, and these soft shorts, that end up right above the cut on your leg. “I'm sorry, I know it's cold, but I don't want anything compressing your body right now. You're very...” Her voice fades and you look at the floor in between your feet. “Here. Take this.” You shake a little when you feel a weight on your shoulders, only to realize it's just a blanket. “Sorry.”

“Daryl. Can you take her back to the bed?”

“Yeah.” He finally turns around, those blue eyes finding yours almost immediately. “Hey. I can see yer face now.” He mumbles, picking you up again.

Once you're back in at the hospital bed, Denise finishes her job, covering all the major wounds. You just found out why your side hurts. Apparently, there are a few cuts on your ribs, right below your breast. As Denise stitches them up, the memory comes back, as vivid as if you were there again. That man, with dark brown eyes and a devilish smile, hovers over you, the needlepoint knife pressed against your skin as he said you'd soon give in, enjoy the pain, and ask him to that over and over again, in the most fun parts of your body.

The memory makes you flinch away when Denise's finger brush on your skin, and you desperately look around, looking for him.

“Hey. S’ alright.” Daryl's voice comes from behind you, and shyly, you reach out your hand, which he takes in a loose grip.

You're not sure how long you stay there, cold and whining, but eventually, the doctor is over. Carol wraps the blanket around you as Denise talks about the pills you'll need to take and how to keep the wounds clean. You don't really pay attention, wondering what happens now. Where you are, and if this new world revolves around this room alone.

“Honey.” Carol stands beside the bed, getting your attention. “We'll take you home now. Daryl and I share the house so you'll be with us, ok?”

Knowing you'll be around Daryl is what makes you nod, agreeing with her. Carol gestures at him, and he's quick to hold you up one more time.

In the last days, you've spent more time in Daryl's arms than anywhere else. It hurts, way too much, with every step he takes, even though you feel that he tries to keep you as still as possible. Ever since the man showed up, you've been feeling safe. You didn't think you'd ever feel safe around someone again. Everyone you met after you were forcefully separated from your first group tried to hurt you. But this man, a complete stranger, stopped whatever he's doing to rescue you. To bring you here, wherever this is, to help you survive.

When he steps out the hospital-like room you were in, you can't help but hide your face on his neck, protecting your eyes from the daylight. And protecting yourself from the small group of people you spot downstreet. Despite being curious to know where you are, you don't wanna look. You don't want people to see you, to know you exist, to think about you. If they don't know you're here, they won't want to hurt you.

“Welcome to your new house.” You hear Carol saying, and the noise of a door being open. Finally, you open your eyes to take in the... Normal house. If you tried really hard, you could even pretend this was a normal house from before... When the dead remained dead. “Daryl, upstairs. The guest room.”

He only murmurs a response you can't understand, and a minute later you're on a bed again, much more comfortable than the first. Your head rests on a fluffy pillow and a long breathe leaves from your lips.

Daryl steps back, turning to talk to Carol, both standing by the door, talking low. You don't try to understand, you just keep your eyes on the wings... Until they leave, disappearing in the hall.

“Sweety, Daryl will take a shower, ok? And I will make you something to eat, to sustain you until dinner. I'll be downstairs so if you need me, you just have to call.”

She waits a while before leaving too.

Being alone isn't the problem. The memories are. You wish your brain would stop working, stop trying to take you back to the cold, hard floor of the basement where you had a taste of what hell must be like. You try closing your eyes, but the darkness brings their faces back. Smiles, laughter, yells. All those people having fun with your suffering, placing bets on how long you'd resist before surrendering.

A couple of minutes later Carol comes back with a glass of water and scrambled eggs, helping you get into a sitting position and urging you to eat before leaving you alone again.

Frozen, you look at the eggs. They smell amazing, and slowly, you take some with your fork, raising it up to your mouth. The taste is so good it makes you ignore the pain spreading through your arm. Your stomach starts complaining violently, urging you to eat more. It's been quite a while, but still, you can't seem to push your body to work any faster. So you just keep looking at your food, trying to figure out which pain you can endure. On your arm or on your stomach.

A knock makes you look up, finding Daryl by the open door, damp hair, and a clean face. The very image of him calms your heart, setting it at ease. “Won't ya eat?” He asks, stepping inside and gesturing at the plate in your lap.

Weakly, you nod, taking some more and raising the fork to your mouth again, trying not to let him notice how your hand shakes, and you almost drop everything before successfully reaching your mouth.

“Do ya... Do ya need help?”

Blushing and embarrassed, you shake your head no, giving up eating. Focusing on not making a mess, you put the plate, still half full, on the nightstand, taking the glass of water. The weight seems to be too much, and your muscles give up trying to lift it, letting it slip and fall back on the nightstand.

“Lemme–” He mumbles, coming fast and taking the glass from your hand. You don't understand why he hesitates there for a moment, before kneeling beside the bed. “Here, drink.” Carefully, he brings the glass close to your mouth, and you lay your hand on top of his, taking fews sips, only then noticing the water is cold. How is the water cold?

That's when you finally take in the lamp on the ceiling, above the bed, the light on. They have electricity. What the hell is this place?

Pushing the glass away, you clear your throat, taking a deep breath.

“I'll leave ya to–”

“Stay.” It comes out suddenly, your voice so weak, so terribly low you barely recognize it. You didn't know you would actually say it, that this feeling, this need would build up and crawl its way out of your heart like that.

It makes Daryl stop in his tracks, already up and ready to walk away. The way he looks down at you, it's clear he's also wondering if he did hear you. You haven't spoken yet, you realize.

“Stay with me.” You force the words out again, repeating the same thing he said to you while he had to carry you through the woods. The words that kept you trying, fighting, struggling to have another chance to live.

“Alright.” He makes a small pause, eyes on the ground before taking a deep breath and sitting on the bed, near your knees. “We were worried. Thinkin’ ya couldn't speak.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you pull the blanket up when you shiver, holding it above your shoulders.

“Will ya tell me yer name?”

His blue eyes are locked on yours, and you feel yourself relaxing, calming down, more comfortable. “(Y/N).” You say, your throat burning a little.

A small, quick smile flashes on Daryl's lips, soon disappearing. But it was there, you know it. Slowly, he reaches out his hand, and you take it without hesitating, watching as he lightly shakes it.

“I'm Daryl. Nice to meet ya, (Y/N).”

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@funeral-7 @heyyy-hey-babyyy

[rpmemesbyarat]

DISNEY'S "GARGOYLES" SEASON 2 QUOTES RP MEME

Why do you read that stuff?

I like a man who brings me weapons.

Nice wake up call.

We won't have to find them. They'll find us.

Revenge, as they say, is a sucker's game.

I'll settle for tearing this jerk IN HALF!

Want to see me use both hands?

That's no way to treat a lady!

That was no lady.

Thanks for saving my bacon before it got fried.

Look, just promise you'll call if there's trouble.

Go ahead, try something!

I'd love to do that again!

That wasn't a tranquilizer dart.

It was loaded with a mutagenic formula!

You don't know anything about her!

Why are you stomping on my friend here?

I was particularly proud of my death scene.

You never let me drive.

The important thing is, you're alive.

Are you sure this is a good idea?

Something's not right here.

Then you leave us no choice!

How are we supposed to find them?

Please, I beg you, be quiet.

This isn't a good idea.

I'm best qualified to go.

My memories are clouded.

Why should I trust you?

If you can't trust me, then trust your heart.

Why do you fight me, my love?

We are destined to be together for all eternity.

I will choose who I love!

Now we'll see what this creature looks like up close.

Why stare at marks on a page when you can rent the video?

Well, I can't read and I don't think I'm missing anything.

Harrier jets! They can take off and land like helicopters. When your life's this exciting, who needs books?

Are you all right?

I had a little trouble.

This beach isn't safe after dark.

Do you need a doctor?

Come on in. I've got a fire going.

There's little I can offer in return, except my thanks.

You understand, I don't get any real pleasure from this. Well you've got courage, beastie. I'll give you that.

Funny, something about your voice made me think you were a soldier, once.

You were there.

I'm old, but I'm not that old.

I'm glad you came back.

I'm afraid I can't stay, but I think I left something on the terrace this morning.

Have you come across a large canister?

The name sounded phony.

I do know him, but he's not a friend!

A magic book?

They're worthless. No magic at all.

The written word is all that stands between memory and oblivion.

Without books as our anchors, we are cast adrift, neither teaching nor learning.

Books are lighthouses erected in the dark sea of time.

Is this how you welcome all your guests?

They have a sense of humor. You have none.

Yeah, I know, you're as relieved I am that everything's back to normal.

Wouldn't it be great to be a shapeshifter?

Well, let's just get this over with, shall we?

How can I be of service, hmm?

Out with it. I haven't got all night.

I'm sure you'll fit right in.

What is it you really want?

This just might be fun after all.

I thought everyone knew this.

Shapeshifters, elves, fairies, you mean they're real?

You mean, you thought I was ugly?

I want you to get rid of the humans. ALL of them.

Does this look like Aladdin's lamp? I have limits, after all.

Humans love a battle hearty.

I'll never get the hang of jumping off rooftops.

I'll always be there to catch you.

Do it, and you win your freedom.

It will be my pleasure. But afterwards, I'm going to need a very long nap.

There. You're free.

The sun, it's glorious! I never thought that it could feel so good.

I'm sorry about the bomb. But it proves how dangerous this case is.

When someone messes with your partner, you're supposed to do something about it.

You still haven't learned that crime doesn't pay.

A trade?

Let's just say, I don't trust you with it.

So, now you know my weakness.

Only you would regard love as a weakness.

A momentary lapse, I assure you.

Halloween! Tonight is the night!

Come on. I've wanted to stroll down a city street with you for a long time.

Marry me.

Are you serious?

We're genetically compatible, highly intelligent, and have the same goals.

You could've been hurt. I should've been with you.

Oh-well, spilt milk. Let's move on to plan B.

Don't listen to him. It's a trick! He couldn't tell the truth if his life depended on it!

Even if what you say is true, why should I help her?

Because you know what it means to lose some you love.

Not a good night for you.

You can't believe anything he says.

If someone like him can love, perhaps there is some hope for this world.

Take this as token of my love.

Upon this I pledge my heart to you forever.

Why do you need all this?

I wanted it, so I took it.

It's so unlike you to attack first.

I simply invited you here to talk.

Our past encounters have not inspired me to trust you.

It's crazy to even consider going!

I'm not interested in reminiscing!

Have you no respect for anything?

Believe me, I know exactly how you feel.

I will never be like you!

I do not wish to hurt you.

I do not wish to be you!

What am I to do?

Do nothing.

Do not worry.

Live in the moment.

Attend the petty angers and jealousies that fill your heart.

Fortify yourself with love and trust.

Fulfill the vows of love you make, for they can surely save you.

Time travel's funny that way.

Get away from me, you sentimental fool.

It's a pretty good likeness.

You know more than you're letting on.

T'was your handiwork.

very life is precious.

Take care not to become what you fight against.

Vengeance begets only a further cycle of more vengeance.

Do you want vengeance or a solution?

This is bigger than either of us has ever faced.

We'll have to work together to stop her.

Truce?

You are the cause of all this.

Humans will learn to respect you.

I would rather they fear me.

What are you doing to help?

That's one way to settle an argument.

I thought I'd rid myself of you long ago

You've forgotten about me.

You're too late. You can't save them. No one can!

I'm not here for them. I'm here for you.

I want it over between us!

I wear this as a reminder of your treachery.

Let's not start that again. You blame me, I blame you. Aren't you tired of talking about it?

I'm not here to talk.

Killing me will gain you nothing but your own death.

Death is never the answer. Life is.

I'm just so tired

Your thirst for vengeance has only created more sorrow.

I offer you one last opportunity for forgiveness and mercy.

I merely offer a sample of what you planned for me.

You have learned nothing.

I will still have my revenge!

What do we do with them?

You come in handy now and then.

I'm quite glad the plan worked.

I'm no hero, I just do my job, and my job for tonight is over.

All I want to do is hit the sack.

Why would you want to hit a sack?

How long was I out?

Even shadows must be true to their shade.

We don't need to wait for sunset.

Is it supposed to hurt that much?

Just get on with it.

Recognize the woman?

She seemed familiar, but I just couldn't place her.

You're getting real good at bypassing alarms

Don't give me credit.

It was too easy!

Maybe misery loves company.

If you're human, then you're subject to human laws.

Either way I win!

I fear no human!

There are forces at war within me.

I will return some day, if I can.

You sound like every human employee I ever fired!

Crush all of them together and you couldn't squeeze one iota of personal integrity from the lot!

No excuses, creature!

Learn to take responsibility for your own actions! And STOP whining!

Oh, I am trembling in my chair.

You believe I am not responsible. Yet I remain your prisoner?

Who said you're not responsible?

It doesn't matter that you were tricked, you know now that your actions inflicted grievous damage. Do you take responsibility for them or not?

Well, what are you going to do?

You seem distracted, having second thoughts?

We'll celebrate over breakfast.

No more excuses. I accept full responsibility for my actions. I was wrong.

Integrity is never easy. It's a daily struggle, a costly struggle.

I know I owe you a great debt for the mistake I made a year ago.

If the text wasn't new to me, it was at least worth revisiting.

All I know is I'm about to be wiped out!

It doesn't have to be that way.

I can break these chains. But only you can get me past the bars.

Automatons know nothing of betrayal or honor. They know only what they're programmed to know.

Only living beings possess the ability to change, and make new choices.

You've given me much to consider.

We are friends.

I'd rather not have your death on my conscience

You'll never reach the bridge!

You have two minutes until impact, one minute before I detonate.

I don't want any innocents hurt!

If it goes down, I'm going down with it.

I knew you wouldn't let me down.

Yes, well, you have that effect on people.

I built this company for you!

I'd probably give it to you, if you'd just stand up and ask me for it honestly!

Asking for it wouldn't be any fun at all.

'Fun' is still more important to you than honor. I can't understand that.

Well, maybe you'll have better luck relating to the next generation.

You should've heard him laugh.

Made my hair stand on end, if I had any.

Surely you know I am not in the habit of playing childish pranks or laughing maniacally in the dark.

Do you even know how to laugh maniacally?

Don't tempt me.

Typical. You do and do and do for them, and what happens? They twist the knife in you!

I think I've created a monster.

Have you ever considered the bounties of genetic engineering?

Or maybe cybernetics is more your style?

Save the horror show for Halloween.

I'm sure tired of taking punishment, and I'd love to be able to give some back

That's the source of the trouble.

I hope you not planning to eat your catch.

Now that I'm in charge, I'm not taking any more of your cracks!

You're barely our species!

I'm in charge, here!

I find him very attractive.

Well, that's sicker than usual.

I'm a partner in a freak show!

I should'a figured it was crazy to stick with this crew

And if you play it smart, there'll be plenty of lettuce for everyone!

I should get my own cable TV show.

Oh, me and my big mouth.

It is the cure! It has to be!

Of course it's the cure! You must trust me!

It was you all along! I trusted you!

You turned me into a monster and I defended you!

I'm sorry it had to turn out this way.

You always overplay your hand

Tell me something' Why me?

You're old, and getting older.

I thought you might even appreciate the opportunity.

Growing old terrifies you, doesn't it?

Nothing terrifies me, because nothing is beyond my ability to change.

True immortality isn't about living forever, man; it's about what you do with the time you have.

When all your scheming's done, what will be your legacy

You're still alive! It's a miracle!

Boy, the city sure is different when it snows.

Not a bad life, all things considered.

There is a cure. There must be!

You can't keep me in here forever!

I'll get out! Do you hear? I'll get out!

About time you came back.

Why did you kidnap me? What do you want of me?

See, it wasn't as hard as you made it sound.

Ah, you wish to be immortal.

If the procedure is successful, I'll release you.

This is just a sculpture's model. The real thing is life sized, and lifelike.

What's in this for you?

Service is its own reward.

I wouldn't even know where to start looking.

You may as well be of some use to me.

Open this cage, and I'll show you how 'useless' I am.

It's hard to top that.

What you seek demands a heavy price.

Death and old age have their price as well. And it's too expensive for me.

Without your sword, you're helpless.

Swordless? Maybe. Helpless? NEVER!

What you choose to do with your life is your own affair, as long as it's got nothing to do with me.

You're just full of surprises.

No, let him go. He's earned it.

I wish it hadn't turned out this way.

I was so close to finding out if the legend was true. Now there's no one to test it on.

Throw down your weapon!

Is this a whole city of fools and lawless ruffians?

I'm the law here, pal!

You are a guardian, like myself.

I will submit to your law.

You are learning.

It will take some time.

Prepare to do battle!

I have no fight with you.

What is this, merit badge test night?

Oh well, better make sure it's an uneven fight.

The weak are to be protected, not exploited.

Aaah, who died and made you king?

If you don't know anything, why were you shooting at us?

Do I really need an excuse to have a good time in my own home?

They say a man's home is his castle, and what fun would a castle be without a dungeon?

If it gets any more saccharine in there, I'm going to put a finger down my throat.

I'd sure like to know how you got here, but I'm programmed to shoot first and ask questions later.

I demand a favor.

Death is always pointless. That is the point.

I demand reparation! My son was cruelly and unfairly taken from me!

Death is the ultimate fairness. Rich and poor, young and old - all are equal in death.

Our planet cannot support so many lives at once.

I apologize for any trouble I caused in my efforts to reclaim it.

It seems I'm out of practice dealing directly with mortals.

It seems I am unaccustomed to dealing with a god

We have all gained rare enlightenment this night

Mmmm, what a peculiar sight.

Now, that's odd.

Do you often go wandering about at night, young lady?

My dear, are you saying you don't remember your own name?

I can't seem to remember anything. I feel lucky I know how to talk.

How did I end up in the middle of the Pacific?

I guess I could use a ride

I thought you looked familiar. We've met before.

Do you know what a scroll is?

Get your claws off me!

You might want to reconsider your request.

We're gonna die!

I will not let anything harm you.

You win. I'll behave.

I cannot believe you pulled the trigger on me.

Just shut up and land.

I just don't remember! I'm not even sure I want to remember!

I understand your words, I simply do not believe them.

You have been long expected.

This trough is filled with acid. In about ten minutes its going to do a very nasty job on that soil carving, not to mention your rugged good looks.

It's my first real stab at clichéd villainy. How am I doing?

How are you doing this? No machine can hold me!

I should sue you for trademark infringement.

I've always considered myself a trickster at heart.

History cannot be changed.

You will not win!

What are you going to do? Bite my kneecaps off?

I know from experience the transforming power of a child's love.

The future is not written yet.

I have a sunny disposition and I'm always kind to animals

I've always respected you as a fellow inmate

He's a fool, but he may be useful.

I can work with that!

Now, now! That's your friends' genetic make-up you're insulting.

You are master now?

I should've known. But why this subterfuge?

Hey, I live for subterfuge!

I do not want escape, I want vengeance!

There's no such thing as "a little" vengeance.

No catches. No tricks. No strings.

So, things have come full circle.

You know how I feel about you, right?

[annebaneriddle]

I’ve wrote a twins!AU on a post (Here is what I wrote. It is just a quick resume of how it could have been, but I liked it) and I found the idea really interesting, so I thought “I think I will write what would happen on CW if Steve had a twin, especially one with a personality similar to Ransom’s one. Dude, Ross would be so fucked up. The Accords would SURELLY be put down as soon as he bring it up”.

(Some dialogues are the same as in the movie)

(Also, Steve holds the title of Captain America and Andy holds the title of American Agent)

(And yes, the name “Andy” is because of Andy Barber)

(This is anti-sokovia accords. If you don’t like, just don’t read)

(I really loved writting it)

“Five years ago, I had a heart attack.” Ross positioned himself as if he was going to hit a golf ball  “I dropped right in the middle of my backswing.

Steve and Andy looked at each other, asking without words if the other knew why the hell Ross was talking about it.

“Turned out it was the best round of my life, because after 13 hours of surgery and the triple bypass I found somethig forty years in the army never taught me: perspective.”

Steve heard Andy take a deep breath, trying to control himself to don’t say anything. He was really surprised that his brother hasn’t talked anything yet. Since Sharon took him out of cryo and he was allowed to fight too, instead of staying os a lab as the Army’s lab rat, following orders and being submissive, Andy has developed the tendency of being the most insubordinate and sassy between the two of them (what was a lot, since Steve was pretty much insubordinate himself), so he staying shut just wasn’t like him.

“The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives, but while many people see you as heros, there are some who would prefer the word ‘vigilant’.”

“And what word would you use, mr.Secretary?” Natasha asked with a false courtesy.

“What about ‘dangerous’?” Ross answered.

“Wait a minute!” Andy finally snapped “Are you, from all the people, calling us dangerous? Was this supposed to be a joke? Now, who was the one that spent years trying to catch Bruce? Wasn’t you the responsible for the creation of the Abomination and the destruction of half Harlem? Don’t you dare to call us dangerous, Secretary.” Andy said the title with sarcasm dripping from his voice “If you would use ‘dangerous’ to describe us, I would use ‘egocentrical and hypocritical’ to describe you.”

Andy’s voice was controlled and he was clearly holding back his temper, but yet Steve could see the anger burning on his eyes. 

“Don’t you raise you voice to me, Agent.” Ross warned.

“Does the truth upsets you, mr.Secretary?” Steve asked calmly “My brother didn’t raise his voice at any moment. Eveything he did was tell you the truth.”

Ross frowned while looking Steve right in his eyes.

“I thought you was the most sensible from the two of you, Captain.” He said between his teeths.

“You don’t know neither me nor him enough to make assumptions like that.” Steve shrugged “But for that matter, both me and him are pretty sensible. That’s exactly why he called you out.

The other Avengers were looking surprised to Steve. Usually Andy was the more openly sassy one, but the yonger twin was clearly able to bring to the light the worse of Steve.

“You are a group of US based enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who frankly seem unconcerned about what you leave behind.” He stepped aside so the Avengers could see the holographic screen where scenes from their battles were playing “New York, Washington DC, Sokovia, Lagos.”

Steve saw that Wanda was getting anxious. She has looked away from the screen looking really disturbed and he could hear her breath getting sharp.

“Okay, that’s enough.” He interrupted before more scenes could be played.

Andy made a disdain sound, what attracted everyone’s attention.

“Really, mr.Secretary?” Andy leaned fowards on his chair “Are you really saying that you haven't done the very same thing on Brazil?” Andy’s face showed the most pure kind of innocence, but his words were almost dripping poison “Did you already forgot that you sent a special forces team to get Bruce inside the Rocinha? It’s so convenient that you forgot that your men followed Bruce, trying to get him by any way while he run between innocent people, isn’t it?”

Ross stood there, without knowing how to answer that. The other Avengers watched amazed and unbelieving that Andy and Steve were facing Ross like this. Andy was questioning him without any fear while Steve was by his side supporting him just as always. Now they were truly starting to understand what the Barnes family meant on their interviews back on the 40s when they said that Andy and Steve were like the same being on two different bodies. 

“That was completely different, Agent.” Ross answered “People were in danger.”

“And they were in danger because of you.” Steve controverted “Your hunger for power made you try to catch Bruce by any way you could and that made him have to run away to keep himself and other people safe from you. That’s not advanced math, mr. Secretary. You were the reason he had to run away and you were the one who sent the special forces. That’s the exactly same thing you’re accusing us.”

For the second time in less than two minutes, the Rogers twins managed to let Ross speechless.

“Wow, mr. Secretary.” Andy smilled “Nothing to say about it?”

Ross took a deep breath and ignored the twins, continuing to speak.

“You’ve been working with an arragement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate, but I think we have a solution.” Ross reached the document a  close agent handed him.

Ross handed it over to Wanda. Andy immediately held out his hand in a silent ask for her to give the document to him. Steve reading at least some articles while he distracted Ross would be way more useful and helpful than the others just looking at it’s cover and passing on.

Just one look between them was enough for Steve understand what his brother wanted him to do, so he opened the document and started reading as much articles as he could. He mentally thanked Erskine for the serum enhancing his memory and learning.

“The Sokovia Accords.” Ross explained “Approved by 117 countries. It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they will operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”

“So, if we find out a terrorist will explod a bomb somewhere we will have to wait the United Nations panel decide if we will or not fight them?” Andy asked almost laughing.

By his side, Steve was ignoring the argument while reading what he could until Ross and Andy stopped arguing and the Secretary would have to leave. He wasn’t even on the fifth page yet and what he was reading was already really worrisome. 

“Precisely.” Ross clearly was annoyed by the youngest Rogers.

“Do they know that time is a crucial thing when it comes to save someone?” Andy raised an eyebrow “What will they do if the members have divergent opinions about if we should go help or not and stay there arguing for a middle hour? Will we just watch as people die?”

“That’s not about it, Agent. That’s about compromisse, reassurance. That’s how the world works.”

The smile that appeared on Andy’s face was basically screaming “Got you. I won”.

“So are you admitting that the accords aren’t about saving people’s life, but about the most powerful governments having control upon us?”

“That’s not what I said.” Ross growled.

“Yep, Secretary.” The smile never let Andy’s face “That’s exactly what you just said.”

Ross’ face was red of anger. The man clearly wasn’t expecting that kind of argument, particularly not from the Rogers twins. He head stories about Captain America, the man was supposed to want to follow laws. He didn’t know this much about the yonger twin, since everyone used to believe he died when he got the serum, but everyone that have ever met them said their personalities were almost the same.

And, again, he decided to just ignore the American Agent.

“Three days from now the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.” Ross informed.

“We have three days to read a document that will rule our lives?” Andy questioned “Are you kidding us?”

“It’s time enogh, Agent.” Ross countered.

“Of course.” Andy said sarcastically “Let me gess: you or other member from the UN will find something to keep us busy those three days so we won’t have time to read it and just sign blindly. The next thing we know we will be arrested without the right to a trial.”

“You gessed right. That’s exactly what would happen.” Steve handed the document to his brother “Page 12, last article on that page.”

Andy grabbed the document, opening on the page his brother said and reading out loud.

“ If an enhanced individual violates the Accords, or obstructs the actions of those enforcing the Accords, they may likewise be arrested and detained indefinitely without trial.” Andy’s eyes widened and he stared ar Ross “What the fuck is that?”

“Let me see if I got it right.” Sam said “If we do anything that goes against the Accords we will be arrested without a trial?”

Before Ross could even answer, Steve talked again.

“I just had time to read 20 pages, but I can guarantee it gets worse.” He said “Page 19, third article on that page.”

Andy passed the pages and stopped at page 19.

“ Any enhanced individuals who agree to sign must register with the United Nations and provide biometric data such as fingerprints and DNA samples.” Andy took a deep breath and if  gazes could kill, Ross would be dead right there at that moment.

“Are you expecting that we will give samples of our DNA to people like you?” His face showed pure disbelief.

“Why do you want samples of our DNA?” Steve asked Ross, who was looking nervous.

He didn’t expect to discuss it now. The plan was to don’t give them time enough to read it.

“It will be discussed three days from now in Viena.” He answered hoping there was no more questions.

Ross started moving towards the door to leave, but of couse the excuse didn’t work.

“He don’t want to admit that the reason they want our DNA samples is so he can make the same thing he did with the Hulk.” Ross could feel Steve’s glare burning a hole on his back.

As Steve planned, the trap worked and Ross turned back to them.

“It’s a serious accusation, Captain.” Ross scolded “All we want is to stop you from disrespecting sovereign borders.”

“So why the Accords includes all the enhanced individuals, not just the Avengers?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

Ross had enough.

“It will be discussed in Viena.” He repeated, leaving the room.

After he left, the room was silent from some seconds before Tony talked:

“What the hell was that?” Tony questioned.

“That was me and Steve taking off the mask of fake concern from a hypocrite.” Andy answered “I thought you would know better than trust Ross. Governments, specially the most powerful ones which are in charge of UN, have agendas, Tony. They won’t think about what’s better for their citizens, they will think about what’s better for the ones in charge. Do you know how many people can die while they lose time arguing about where we can go and if we can go?” Andy put the document upon the table, pulling his chair closer to Steve’s “Steve and I will be here trying to read this before they find some excuse to keep us busy until the meet in Vienna. The ones who want to laugh and at the same time get horrified about what’s written there, stay.”

[lucarioisinthevoid]

hello good sir (sir being a gender neutral term), i'd like to send some p r o m p t s. so i haven't played ucn in a LONG time, but some ideas off the top of my head: toy freddy (would be funny), funtime foxy (cause they're a bitch), n. fredbear and maybe nightmare (cause they're twisted versions of his b e l o v e d fredbear), and maybe foxy+bonnie (cause it's a bitch). just some ideas! also, being a man of culture, i'd like to request some tortu- jk, jk (i'd say sth funny but character limit).

(I will fight you for this ask. I will come to you home and pick you up and fling your body into space and into literal Among Us. My brain was going a mile a minute trying to gather enough coins to get rid of Funtime Foxy, and keep on top of EVERYTHING ELSE- And yet I was still surprised when I finally got jumpscared. Welp, I couldn’t have predicted it, so it’s kinda fun being able to write this now. Also yes, warning for mild torment! I’m just not good at writing it- Oh, also, here’s the AO3 link to the thing: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687695/chapters/67764007 You can read the whole thing there and I update it there as I do here. You can request over there to, but that’s beside the point)

Be on top of his games. Watch his shows. Check in, but only at the right times. Henry grinded his teeth. It was almost like he had a son again- dear god, this truly was hell, wasn’t it? For a moment he had thought the Helpy robot was joking as he elaborated on what the damn plastic piece of shit’s mechanic was- No. No cursing. He shook his head. That was being petty for no reason. He had a mechanic- and it was a stupid one- but that was better than nothing. It was better than being told “you will die” without being able to do anything about it. For a moment he frowned, a though manifesting itself in the back of his mind. … if he would know there was no way to escape the pain, he would grow numb to it. So whoever or whatever set this up seemed to have a keen interest in- The clock chimed, it was time to play. Instantly he pulled up the monitor. He had been gifted the leeway of being allowed to eradicate one of them- and dear god, he would not say no, not if it was the only chance to give a little bit of payback. He checked on Toy Freddy- a good contender to be murdered- and clicked the door of the- vacuum cleaner- dear god, this would make his brain rot- then he moved on to more sensible things, like checking on Foxy, who was thankfully out, then moving over to gathering coins. Laughter from the door. “Mister Miller… look at you. You seem stressed.” “Why yes, I am quite tense.” Without looking up he closed the doors, opening them up right away. “I have to admit to my distain of the character selection that currently is coming after me. They make no sense, you see?” Another, similarly as deep voice sounded, albeit with a brighter tint to it- “… oh, don’t be ashamed of that, Mr. Miller. They have more distain for you than you do for them.” Once more, doors closed, doors open. He didn’t even need to look. “I can assume that, yes, but that is hardly my issue, is it now? My issue is their reality bending and tedious habits.” For this round he would be stuck on the cameras, wouldn’t he? Once more he flipped over to Foxy, gathering coins and being quietly thankful for the fact that he and Bonnie had not switched places yet. He had to get this done in the first time-warped hour and if he didn’t- he wasn’t sure when exactly the clock would move over and he didn’t want to find out. The nightmare duo was chuckling, so he shortly put the monitor down to look inside of Nightmare Fredbear’s red eyes. “… what are you supposed to be?” “You have never truly understood your own creation, did you…? If it lives… it changes…” “The only nightmare I ever created were the suits and-“ He turned to the other side, spotting the more pinkish eyes shining from that frame. “… you. Are you not supposed to be me?” “I think you can answer that yourself.” Shaking his head, Henry dismissed both of them, closing the doors and opening the camera feed, checking once more on Foxy, helping out Toy Freddy and finally snatching up the last few coins he needed- instantly he moved over to the price corner, ordering one of the silver coins- His eyes darted to the clock- Oh god, only a few more moments before the timer skipped- The pink hellfox was peering out of its cove, grinning widely- a grin that instantly was replaced by an agonized and hateful scream as Henry used the coin, allowing himself for a moment to watch the machine literally being disintegrated into clear silver dust. From the side, Nightmare Fredbear chuckled. “… how cruel.” “This is a dog-eat-dog world. You should not try to inflict onto others what you are not willing to go through yourself.” “Oh? Are you ready for what is coming for you then?” Abruptly Henry started laughing, as he once more checked on Foxy, then moved to Toy Freddy. “What? What is coming for me? Being brought back to Fredbear’s, except this time I am immortal, have inhuman strength and can start honing my ability to move whatever I desire with my mind? What a terrible fate you are threatening me with, Nightmare! I am appalled! How dare you gift me with everything I have ever wanted!” One last time he switched back to Foxy, then deactivated the monitors, assuming it was best to be on Foxy’s camera right away, so when he pulled the camera back up- His eyes fell on the little figure of Bonnie that was now on the table. For the love of god, how could he have been that stupid!? Looking up at Nightmare Fredbear’s red eyes, he saw a bit of bemusement in it- that and a deep, underlaying level of pure disgust. “… will you ever learn, Mr. Miller? Will you ever realize that the resistance you have been met with was not from nowhere? Will you learn that you cursed them?” “NONSENSE.” Henry HISSED. “I considered you smart. I was wrong. The only reason the children were struggling against me because I could not yet accommodate them well enough- propaganda against me and my mission was spread. William seemed to have been just fine with his joke of a family that he had gotten himself in a flight of passing fancy. What made him different?!” There was only silence from the outside, as Henry glanced once more at the figure. Still Bonnie and it wouldn’t change. Muttering more so to himself than to the Fredbear, he stressed his point. “Nature has turned on me for taking what I desired, much like the ocean, the skies and the land has turned against humanity at every opportunity. Even in the different religious texts, humanity and to steal and take with violence what it needed to become what it was meant to be. One god banished the species in fear of them becoming immortal, much like the being itself- another wanted to deny us fire as petty retaliation, because fire brings creation- and it had to be taken back by theft.” Not quite, but close enough. He didn’t want to recount the stories. “… if you want to grow, you have to feed, and if you feed, you destroy. And so, destruction brings new creation. We feed off the old gods and create new rules. Nature does not like to be controlled and abused- all it wishes is to slowly burn itself out. Until nothing is left. But we humans preserve- we are a species who is so defenseless, yet have made it this far, by preserving knowledge, by learning early, early and as much as we can- eventually however it will come to a standstill. You can only learn so much with the time given. Until said time become infinite. Some ills of humanity can only be cured by allowing humans to permanently remain and learn. For that we need immortality.” There still was only silence and he sighed- He had wasted too much time. The Bonnie figure was still there, but he might as well get it over with, he wouldn’t get around him disabling the cameras. Quickly he closed the door to the left side where he knew Nightmare Fredbear was waiting, pulling up the cameras, to Bonnie’s aggressive scream- But before he could really boot the thing up, a giant black paw came from above grabbing the little tablet, cracking it. The Amalgamation was towering over him, black fur and metal broken up by the silver shine of its teeth. Baffled for a few seconds, Henry looked at him. “I… did not hear you.” “The others are not your problem anymore, are they now?” With its vile grin it picked Henry up by the head, an incredibly painful experience, playfully throwing him against the wall with full force- a crack was sounded and as Henry tried to stumble back on his feet, he quickly realized he couldn’t- something was damaged, so badly that the pain was too much- His head was still sharp though, the white pain barely being fended off by his mind trying to figure out how this creature could be HERE- It had been HIM, it was HIM, what would make him want to- Blood was dripping from out his mouth, tasting disgustingly mechanical- “… you… you are supposed to be ME-“ Smiling the monstrous bear-esque beast picked him up, causing another wave of incoherent, glowing pain to wash through Henry, his whole chest being just enough to fill the Amalgamation’s hand. “I was you. We have seen all your thoughts, all your ideas, we have shaped, and we have remembered. You are me. And we crave violence, Mister Miller. Your words were pretty to hear, but we do not believe them. We know what we are- a monster who thinks of itself too highly, an animal unable to resist the siren call of violence and blood. Our creation has not made us better than all the monsters we feared becoming. There is only one difference between us… … I am not ashamed of my needs anymore.” With that he started pulling on Henry’s arm, pulling as the delirious man convulsed under him- Ready to take a bite out of it. “But I do love creation too… and I cannot wait to see what we will turn you into. The brain is moldable, Henry. It does fantastical things under pain and pressure…” His other claw was digging into the human’s head. The other was pulling the now separated arm to his maw, biting down with a sickening, wet crunch. Happily he sighed. The few seconds of Henry’s awareness that were left only wondered quietly if his parts being consumed would mean he would never get them back- The Amalgamation seemed to hear the thought, grinning at him with its now stained teeth. “I will vomit you back… to relieve your horror…” … with that Henry faded.

[the-writing-dump-bin]

Female Reader/ Risotto/ Melone fic

Okay, okay. I like, totally got carried away with this. And I'm sorry?

N*SF*W 18+ for threesome.

The sound of small waves hitting the shoreline could be heard along with the playful laughter of families that littered the beach.

Today was a perfect day for sunbathing.

Luckily, you got here early enough to claim a chair and an umbrella and spent a few hours in your bikini soaking up the sun.

Every so often, a male would bring up his courage and flirt with you, which you dismissed very quickly.

If your boyfriend seen every guy that came up to you, he wouldn't hesitate to inflict damage; maybe even kill them if he wanted to.

Risotto wasn't the type of man to take things lightly when it came to you. If he saw you annoyed by anyone, he would take care of them. If someone hurt you, he would make sure they felt a stronger inflict of pain.

Getting enough of the sun, you decide to head back to your house, but not without stopping at the market for a few things.

Basket in hand, you walked up and down the aisle to find what you needed.

Eggs, bread, milk; just the essentials, really.

"Buonasera, Bella Y/N."

You turned around at the sound of your name, seeing a familiar face.

"Oh, Melone. Buonasera. What brings you by, you don't live around here."

The purple haired man eyed your body, you looked absolutely adorable in your short shorts and tank top. "Risotto gave me the task of escourting you back home."

This wasn't the first time Risotto had someone watch over you. He usually gave the task to his subordinates when he had bigger issues to attend to.

But today he sent Melone.

Risotto made it clear to his squad that you were off limits, but that didn't stop Melone from sneaking glances at you whenever he had the chance.

When he was told he was to be watching you this evening, he was instantly giddy inside. "Let me carry that for you." He said with his hand extended towards your basket.

Truth be told, Melone wasn't the only one to steal glances.

You found yourself checking him out more the last couple months. Blushing, you handed him the basket. "Thank you, Melone."

He smiled and followed you to help with the rest of your shopping.

---

The key slid in the lock and clicked open, door swinging inward.

Melone carried your groceries into your house, setting them on the counter in the kitchen. "Nice place you got here." He said as he looked around.

"Thank you." You said smiling as you proceeded to put everything you bought away. "And thanks for walking me home. It's a little annoying to be watched over all the time, but I understand, given what you all do."

"You found my company annoying?" Melone teased.

"Well, no. Not your company. It's just, you know..."

"I'm kidding."

His fingers brushed your stomach as he walked up to you, causing you to feel chills through your body. "Wh-What are you doing?"

"Come now, y/n..." He leaned in closer, lips softly kissing your ear. "Don't think I haven't caught you looking at me, too. Let's have a little fun."

A little fun? You knew what that meant.

"Melone... We can't." Your mind went fuzzy as you felt his hips push against yours; his fingers tracing the band of your shorts. "If Risotto found out, we'll both be dead."

"Then he doesn't need to find out."

He kissed you, tongue dancing with yours as you couldn't help but kiss him back.

His hands pinned your wrists to the counter, making his way from your mouth to your chest with his lips.

Panting, you begged for Melone to stop, but your plea was falling on deaf ears. Besides, did you really want him to stop? With every movement he made, a wall would break and you found yourself wanting more. "M-Melone..."

He spun you around and pushed your face to the coolness of the counter, leaning over to growl in your ear. "Where is your bedroom?"

You told him and he carried you there, stripping your clothes off on the way.

Tossing you onto the bed, Melone discarded his shirt and stared at your naked body with hungry eyes. "Mmmm... Exactly how I pictured you."

You squirmed. One half of you wanted Melone to top you, giving you a ride to the stars. But the other have of you knew this was wrong since you were already dating a dangerous man. A frustrated groan left your throat.

Licking his lips, Melone bent down to the side of the bed, his head hovering over your waist. "You look delicious." He said seductively, eyes flicking to yours. "But not quite ready yet. Touch it."

"What?"

"You heard me." His face got closer between your legs, his hot breath hitting you. "I want to watch you play with it."

Melone was a strange man, but you did it anyways, your own fingers swirling around while his face was so close.

"No no no. Slower." He commanded; you complied. "That's a good girl. Just like that."

A dampness formed as you rubbed your clit. Knowing Melone was so close to you down there made your hips buck toward his face, insinuating he do something about the build up you were feeling. Your hands tangled in his hair, trying to push him to you.

Looking up at you, he smiled sinisterly.

"What are you doing? I didn't say you could stop."

"Melone... Please."

"Do it again." He demanded.

Another groan left your mouth, but your hand found yourself again, the build up rising again.

Melone kissed your inner thigh, making your hand move faster. With every inch he came closer, your hand moved to your entrance. Eventually, you slipped your own fingers inside you.

Seeing this, Melone ripped your hand away. "Why aren't you doing what you're told?"

"Melone!" You screamed out. "Eat me, please! Eat me like I'm your last meal ever!" Which, in a way, could be true if Risotto were to find out what the two of you were doing.

Grinning with lust, he dove right in; teeth, lips and tongue running all over.

Your hands held his head in place as your hips grinded his face. "Ngh...! Oh, Melone..."

He flipped you over so that you were bent over the bed and shoved himself inside you.

Both of you panted with ecstasy as he thrusted into from behind with punishing force.

"I've wanted this for so long."  Melone gasped. "You feel so god damn good."

"What the fuck?!"

A gasp escaped your mouth. Looking at the door, you saw Risotto standing there, looking mortified and angry. "R-Risotto!"

"Oh, fuck!" Melone stopped his movements and froze with fear; he was still inside you.

"What the fuck is this?! Melone! I ordered you to escort her home, not fuck her!"

He slid out of you slowly. He may have been caught red handed, but that didn't stop him from trying a last ditch effort to please you...and it worked. While he was pulling out, a pleasurable moan left your mouth along with a heavy pant and eyes rolling back. "O-Oh..."

Risotto stomped to you and grabbed your chin. "Did you like that just now?!"

"Risotto..."

"Answer the question!"

There was no reason to lie. You were caught. "Yes."

Risotto's eyes drifted to Melone. He was scrambling to grab his clothes and get the hell out of here. "Don't move, Melone."

He froze. "Ah, Risotto. I was just thinking of kinda-"

"Finish what you started."

Blinking with confusion, Melone asked "What?"

Risotto replayed how you looked when Melone pulled out of you. That look on your face gave him a jolt of excitement. He still had your chin in his palm. "I want to see more of that face. Now get back here and fuck her."

Was he serious? Or was this some sort of sick game he was playing before he killed the two of you?

Melone gulped but shuffled over, lining himself with you again. "A-Are you sure?"

Risotto's red eyes glared at him, but then he started stripping down himself, kneeling on the other side of the bed where he could see your face better. "Why are you making me repeat myself?"

Your eyes made contact with your boyfriend's. They widened when you felt Melone enter you again and set a slow rhythm. After a few thrusts, you started panting as he got faster. Your face contorted with pleasure as he hit you just right with his cock.

"Look at that face." He was getting more excited the longer he watched. "Don't you dare make her cum, Melone."

The sounds of your laboured breathing spurred Melone to go faster, but he had to listen to Risotto. He pulled out when he felt your walls tighten around him.

"Son of a bitch." You hissed as you were denied release.

Risotto switched places with Melone and used his hand to rub between your legs. "You're a bad girl, you know that? Cheating on me."

"I-Im sorry, Risotto."

He pulled you upward so that you were leaning against his chest, his hand circling you. With a nod to Melone, he silently ordered the other man to bend down and work you with his tongue again.

You were becoming a complete mess under these two men, never feeling anything like this before. "I... I want to cum... Please...?"

Risotto fondled your breasts as Melone continued to enjoy himself between your legs. "Mmmm, listen to you asking so politely." He grabbed your face again. "Only I get to make you cum, and only I get to cum inside you. Do you understand this?"

"Yes, Risotto!"

"I'm going to let tonight pass." He looked at both you and Melone, anger reappearing at what you two were doing before he walked in. "But if I catch you or hear about this again, I will not hesitate to kill the both of you."

You nodded. Thankful that neither of you were going to lose your lives tonight. Melone nodded as well.

"Good. Then I'll grant you your wish."

Risotto bent you over again and thrusted into you hard. He moved your head so that your mouth wrapped around Melone's cock. Instantly, you started sucking.

As if synchronized, all three of you came to your climaxes. Melone pulled out of your mouth and released ribbons over your face. When the two males stepped back, you collapsed on the bed with exhaustion.

"Get out, Melone." Risotto panted, staring at your limp body.

Melone quickly grabbed his clothes and left, wanting to avoid a change of mind from his leader.

After a few minutes, Risotto rolled you over. "Don't you think in the least that I'm done with you. You've been a very bad girl and you need to be punished."

[thetwominuteshate-blog]

Hello, cruel world.

I am exhausted with living on this earth.

I could throw literary quotes at you. I could tell you that society at large has become what the dystopian science fiction authors of yesteryear predicted it would. I could start this blog with a call to arms, urging you to riot in the streets and tear down the prison we've built for ourselves.

But the truth is I'm just tired. I'm tired of constantly living in fear. I'm tired of feeling no connection with the world around me. I'm tired of seeing so much suffering that spans continents, in "the greatest nation in the world", while criminals look down on us with derision from their ivory towers. I am tired of feeling as though, no matter what I do, my decisions are of no consequence. I'm tired of the world slowly eroding me until there is nothing good left in me. I'm tired of feeling alone, and I am so, so tired of seeing the world as it could be--as it SHOULD be--and always coming up so short I can't even see the finish line.

I've been rejecting the reality I've found myself in for far too long, escaping into worlds of my own making or the worlds others have created for the sake of escaping my own despair. But it doesn't have to be this way. I still reject this reality, the efficient brutality of a race that has been born into an environment so unforgiving that we fail to put our own violent natures behind us. I reject the notion that the world cannot improve. I have had enough.

Those of you who have read George Orwell's 1984 might remember the Two Minutes Hate. For those of you who haven't or have forgotten, the Two Minutes' Hate is a daily ritual put in place by a maddeningly restrictive government with the intention of directing the fear and anger of common individuals living in such a repressive society by placing them in front of a television screen that projects images of whomever the Party deems is an enemy. The Other. When I first read it, this excerpt in particular stood out to me:

"The horrible thing about the Two Minutes Hate was not that one was obliged to act a part, but that it was impossible to avoid joining in. Within thirty seconds any pretence was always unnecessary. A hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill, to torture, to smash faces in with a sledge hammer, seemed to flow through the whole group of people like an electric current, turning one even against one's will into a grimacing, screaming lunatic. And yet the rage that one felt was an abstract, undirected emotion which could be switched from one object to another like the flame of a blowlamp."

These days, most of what I see in the media is the Two Minutes Hate. Talking heads on two dimensional screens telling us who we should hate. Vicious propaganda that those who lack the will to fight the ones keeping them locked in misery buy into wholeheartedly. Instead of directing their rage at the ones responsible, people punch down, ostracizing people less fortunate than them.

But this isn't the reason why I chose to name this blog after the Two Minutes Hate. Because hate is a funny thing--when we don't let it eat away at us, it gives us the strength to fight without abandon. It causes us to reduce things to rubble and burn the remains so there is no trace of its existence. It can be a powerful tool. But it is fire, and most of us, if not all, aren't well enough equipped with the knowledge to know which things are worth burning.

I've been filled with hate nearly for as long as I can remember. Full disclosure: I'm a 27-year-old white, bisexual cis male. For most of my life I lived in a small town and have largely kept myself in seclusion due to bullying throughout my childhood into my teen years. I only recently became aware of the deepening aspects of my sexuality, but over the years I've faced baseless accusations of homosexuality to the point that a cowardly bully had his friend fight me. As a result, I faced suspension. My school district, like most, put on a public face that disavowed bullying, but enabled it when it occurred. The culture I was surrounded by swam in toxic masculinity, boys that pretended to be men through the ownership of trucks flying the Confederate flag and other meaningless, superficial displays of their own insecurities. My "community", which is so very important to conservative culture, treated me like a stubborn weed long before I could even grasp cruelty. I felt suffocated, unable to flourish because there was always someone watching my every move. As a result, I've come to loathe authority in all its forms.

That's just backstory, though. Over the years I've come to realize that my circumstances were relatively fortunate. I'm privileged; people have been murdered over the merest suspicion that they might be gay. There are people who face severe bullying on a near-daily basis, and that's in this country alone. The atrocities committed in our world's history dwarf mine to a subatomic level. I've had friends who have been raped, faced child and domestic abuse, and even now are in circumstances far more dire than my own. It's no longer for my own sake that I hate, it's for those who are beaten down and cannot fight back, whether on an individual or cultural basis.

I'm not here to play white, straight(ish) savior. In fact, I wouldn't even consider myself to be an ordinary person. I am on the verge of mental instability--for years I've felt the effects of severe depression, which is finally in check. For a time I was so suicidal that I abused substances on a daily basis because the only calming thoughts I had in sobriety were of my own death. I have a deep desire to hurt and destroy, to get back at the world that I feel cut me open and left me to bleed out. I'm a sadist and a masochist in the BDSM scene. I have twisted fantasies that run so deeply to my core and no outlet for them outside of the scene. I want to make others suffer for the injustices they inflict upon those who are undeserving of pain. Because whoever came up with the idiom, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" should have been tortured without cause, broken by suffering that held no ultimate meaning. Then he'd have a greater grasp on the state of the reality as it is.

Hate is addictive. Orwell was right; it spreads like a wildfire, and it's impossible not to be caught in the blaze yourself unless you sequester yourself with comfort and ignorance. And turning a blind eye to the problems others face, whether it's next door or on the other side of the globe, is possibly worse. Until now, I've feared the repercussions of acting against authority, the odds of my successful retribution stacked heavily against me. Even now, I fear the things I will express will draw fire from all sides, so I'm shielding myself through an anonymity browser in order to ward off potential enemies, whether they are a collective agency like the NSA or some alt-right IT cunt with internet access. Those of us in the United States have been officially granted a right to free speech, but we live in an era in which seizing that right can go so far as to get you killed, especially if you call for progress and your voice is heard by millions.

But my end goal is not society's complete collapse. There are pieces of this world worth preserving. I may only be useful for tearing things down, but someday I hope someone will build them back up into something better that works for all people. I long to help individuals understand that all people are just that--people. Not secondary or tertiary characters in your life, good-or-evil projections onto a screen for you to scream at. It's this mentality that causes entire populations to suffer, and I know my work will never be done until the most marginalized find a place in society.

But this is not a call to empathy. Part of recognizing each other's humanity is holding each other accountable for their actions. I believe no person can be perfectly good--we all do terrible things, myself thoroughly included--but there are those of us who are so mindlessly destructive in their actions that I honestly believe the world would be better off without them. This quality of malignance does not discriminate between race, gender, or age. We are among self-made monsters on a daily basis, and they deserve as much sympathy as they dole out.

Words without action are meaningless. I don't intend to sit here and tell y'all to start a French-style bloodletting while I sit comfortably in a downtown loft. This is a time for action. This is a time for violence. This is a time to stand up against the birth of fascism in the so-called "Land of the Free". This is a time for hate.

I am Winston Smith, and this is my Two Minutes Hate. This is my war. Will you join me?

[texasthegreatdestroyer]

So, I don't usually do these, because I always felt that shipping oc's with characters from other fan works was socially frowned upon, but since I've been seeing a few of these around, I'll give it a shot. My OC shipped with Auron.

Auron x Texas.

Yes, Auron's current partner in crime, rather he'd liked to admit it or not. Their meeting was rather... comedic. Auron didn't really notice his co worker until he accidentally rested the elbow of his sheifed arm on her head. She was very short, Her height being 4'8. He looked down to find a short, albino girl with wolf ears, and a tail. The whole package. Everything else looked human, she just had a few furry parts to her. Another key thing about her is that she always came off as the, "edgy" type, for her preference in black lipstick, and eyeliner. When he did get to know her, Auron has always found her annoyingly chipper, and overly friendly. The two attended a funeral together once, and she wouldn't stop smiling. Seriously. How does someone smile that much at a funeral??? Auron asked her about it.

Her response: Usually when people die, they don't want people to mourn over them, there for I choose not to mourn.

She wasn't entirely wrong, speaking from his own experiences, however it wasn't exactly the majority opinion, as Auron had to keep the wife of the dead man from trying to punch Tex in the face. Tex was almost always very clingy in the irritating and physical sense. She liked hugging a lot. She would hug Auron everytime she'd see him, and it usually would last 5 minutes before he would have to eventually pull her off. As time went on, and they grew closer, Auron started to notice that something was very wrong with Texas. Her extremely chipper personality was used to hide some dark, twisted thoughts, feelings, and even experiences. He came to this realization when he went to visit her one night, and she didn't answer her door. She lived in a dormitory like area, where there was the bedroom, and then a small room next to it that was a kitchen, and the bathroom being against the the smaller side of the rectangular kitchen. It was a nice little place for someone who likes living alone, but it had its downsides, like paper thin walls. You could hear the inhabitants, and they most likely can hear you as well. After a minute or two of waiting, just as he turned to leave, Auron was startled by the sound of soft, female sobbing, coming from Tex's dorm. He knew for a fact that if Tex was crying, which he had never actually seen her do, something was horribly wrong. He immediately opened the door to find a mess waiting for him. Texas sat their curled up in a ball, hands grabbing at her hair and pulling, make up smeared, wrists bleeding from self inflicted bites. Scattered around her were drawings of morbid, violent, and just horrid depictions, along with words scribbled over them along the lines of, "Worthless", "Dead", "No Future", "I'm nothing." A common sign of depression. If there was one thing Auron always knew about Tex is that she had a talent for art. She did this thing that she called a web comic. Auron, not really being kept up in technology, never really knowing what it was, let alone reading it, thought nothing of it, but he had seen her art, and it was phenomenal. It really opened his eyes to what she truly was when he saw that beauty and talent turned into something so ugly and self degrading. When Tex finally noticed him, her reaction was just to try to hide herself in the comfort of her knees. Auron began snooping around, and grabbing rags, then pried Tex's hands from her head, and wrapped her wrist.

Auron: Moron. What were you thinking???

Texas: ...

Auron pulled her into an embrace, still holding the rags to her wrist.

Auron: Would you like to talk about why you bit yourself up like this? Or the sketches for that matter?

Texas: I-I don't know what to do! My art! My comic! I- the deadline to get chapter 9 out is tomorrow, and I thought I could just push through it in a day with enough effort, but I don't even have content! I don't have a script! I have no story, no art for chapter 9! I'm a fuck up! I'm stupid! I'm nothing! I-... I'm so sorry... you shouldn't have had to see me like this...

Auron: It's fine. You're human after all. I expect you to have emotions, breaking points. As for your problems. Tex, the comic is just a for fun thing, right?

Texas: Yeah...

Auron: Great. Take some time off until you get over your writer's block. The timely fashion of updates doesn't matter, the quality does. If you can't produce anything good, then step back and take a break. It's obvious that it's affecting your mental health. This will make you hate what you do, so step back from it. Take a break.

Texas: You're right, I've just... meh.

Auron: Don't be afraid to show your emotions around me. It shows me that you are human.

That night, Auron didn't leave Tex's side, mainly out of fear for what she might do when she's alone. This opened a pathway for future sleep overs. Auron didn't share his bed with many, but with Tex, it had become routine, and he didn't mind. He actually liked the cuddles. A few months later, he receives a message from Tex. That night, she wasn't with him, she decided to stay at her place to do some cleaning.

Message received at 1:23 am:

Texas: Hey. Are you awake?

Auron: I wasn't until you woke me. -_-

Texas: Oh sorry. I forgot that your ringtone is up all the way usually... I'm sorry. XD

Auron: This better be important if it warrants you texting me at one in the morning...

Texas:...

Auron: It's not that important, is it?

Texas: ... No comment...

Auron: Tex...

Texas: I'll leave you alone then.

Auron: Why do you do this!? Spit it out! I'm already awake!

Texas: Are you sure? It can wait until tomorrow.

Auron: Tex. Spit. It. Out...

Texas: I can't! You're making me nervous!XI

Auron: Why would you be nervous?

Texas: Because it's kinda personal...

Auron: Okay. Pretend I'm not here. Say what you have to say.

Texas: ... that is so unaffective when I'm staring directly at that message...

Auron: Point taken. Just tell me.

Texas: Okaaaaay! ...

The icon at the bottom that says that Tex is typing stays that way for 5 minutes.

Auron: So?

Texas: Okay. Here goes nothing. And when I say that, I mean here goes everything I could possibly hold dear in my life. XD

Auron: Are you going to say what I think you're going to say?

Texas: I would really really really REALLY like to punch you in the face!

Auron: Okay, that's not where I thought you were going with this.

Texas: With my face, gently... I Love you! You are amazing, and wise, and sweet, even when you hide it under your protective layers! I simply love you. End of story. And I was wondering if you would allow me to take you out to dinner! I'm going to go cry now, because I feel like I'm dying XD

Auron: I stand corrected...

Auron: O//_//O...

Auron: No.

Texas: No?

Auron: No.

Texas: Okay then... What? No reason why? Like I'm cool with it, if you don't like me like that, but still. At least give me a reason...

Auron: Okay. I'll tell you exactly why. Yeah. I like you. I think you're cute. However, I don't appreciate you waking me up at 1 in the morning to text me with a confession. You want a relationship? Fine, but take initiative and tell me to my face. Quit being a coward. -_-

Texas: Ouch. My feel goods. Anyways, I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow man. Sorry about this...

Auron: It's fine :) Sleep well, Tex.

Texas: You too bro <3

After Auron and Tex finish messaging each other, Auron goes back to sleep. The next day is pretty amusing. Auron waits for his partner. Half expecting she hopes to forget about the previous night. Auron hears running behind him, and turns to find Tex in a suit and tie running up to hi., screaming, "I love you, you sexy, sexy son of a gun!" She knocks his feet out from under him, and steals a very, very passionate kiss, but soon afterwards, causing Auron and Tex both to fall over to the ground. Because her tiny frame is too much for his bigger, heavier frame. Luckily Texas's arm was under Auron's head when they fell, so no brain damage was caused to the older male. Texas turns to Auron, half expected to be heated, and she wasn't wrong, just heated in a different sense. Auron's face was bright red, slight tears to his eyes, he bursts out laughing, black lipstick smeared on his lips.

Texas: What? You told me to take initiative!

His laughter fades to a light chuckle, and then he stops.

Auron: Wow. That was... cheesy.

Texas: Also clearly failed...

Auron: (Still catching his breath.) No it didn't.

Texas: So it actually worked!?!? YAY!

Auron: Just don't do that again. You took us both out in the process.

Auron pulls Tex into his lap, and the two share a proper kiss.

Auron: See. That in of it's self is enough for me.

Texas: Yeah, but it wouldn't be a confession from me if it wasn't stupidly cheesy and didn't make you smile.

Auron: It's missing something though.

Texas: And that is?

Auron: The amazing pick up line from last night.

Texas: Ah yes, you have good taste, my kind, gentle sir. I would really.

Auron: Yes?

Texas: Really.

Auron: Go on.

Texas: Really.

Auron:...

Texas: Really!

Auron: Hopefully this is the last, "Really."

Texas: Like to punch you in the face. With my face gently, romantically, and in other places besides your face.

Auron: Okay. Okay. Calm down. We haven't even had dinner yet...

Texas: Exactly. Dinner.

Auron is very flustered at his now girlfriend's sense of humor. Safe to say, they had a very romantic evening together. ;3

This is my contribution to OC x Fan work Characters. Hope you enjoyed!