It matters what you call a thing: Exquisite a lover called me. Exquisite.
Whereas Well, if I were from your culture, living in this country, said the man outside the 2004 Republican National Convention, I would put up with that for this country;
Whereas I felt the need to clarify: You would put up with TORTURE, you mean and he proclaimed: Yes;
Whereas what is your life;
Whereas years after they LOOK down from their jets and declare my mother’s Abadan block PROBABLY DESTROYED, we walked by the villas, the faces of buildings torn off into dioramas, and recorded it on a hand-held camcorder and I said That’s a gun as I trained the lens on a rusting GUN-TYPE WEAPON and That’s Iraq as I zoomed over the river;
Whereas it could take as long as 16 seconds between the trigger pulled in Las Vegas and the Hellfire missile landing in Mazar-e-Sharif, after which they will ask Did we hit a child? No. A dog. they will answer themselves;
Whereas the federal judge at the sentencing hearing said I want to make sure I pronounce the defendant’s name correctly;
Whereas this lover would pronounce my name and call me Exquisite and LAY the floor lamp across the floor so that we would not see each other by DIRECT ILLUMINATION, softening even the light;
Whereas the lover made my heat rise, rise so that if heat sensors were trained on me, they could read my THERMAL SHADOW through the roof and through the wardrobe;
Whereas you know we ran into like groups like mass executions. w/ hands tied behind their backs. and everybody shot in the head side by side. its not like seeing a dead body walking to the grocery store here. its not like that. its iraq you know its iraq. its kinda like acceptable to see that there and not—it was kinda like seeing a dead dog or a dead cat laying—;
Whereas I thought if he would LOOK at my exquisite face or my father’s, he would reconsider;
Whereas You mean I should be sent MISSING because of my family name? and he answered Yes. That’s exactly what I mean, adding that his wife helped draft the PATRIOT Act;
Whereas the federal judge wanted to be sure he was pronouncing the defendant’s name correctly and said he had read all the exhibits, which included the letter I wrote to cast the defendant in a loving light;
Whereas today we celebrate things like his transfer to a detention center closer to home;
Whereas his son has moved across the country;
Whereas I made nothing happen;
Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? It is even a THERMAL SHADOW, it appears so little, and then vanishes from the screen;
Whereas I cannot control my own heat and it can take as long as 16 seconds between the trigger, the Hellfire missile, and A dog, they will answer themselves;
Whereas A dog, they will say: Now, therefore,
Let it matter what we call a thing.
Let it be the exquisite face for at least 16 seconds.
Let me LOOK at you.
Let me look at you in a light that takes years to get here.
Eggsy jogged down the corridor, J.B clutched to his chest tightly, little soft ears flopping all over the place with speed. He flinched when one hit him in the face, but kept running, finally reaching the door to the main control room. Eggsy twisted the doorknob quickly, slipping inside the room silently. Yet still, with all his careful tactics, all eyes in the room turned toward him. The conversation fell silent, Merlin rolling his eyes and turning back toward the PowerPoint.
“What was it this time, Eggsy?” He asked,interrupting the boys answer “I don’t really care agent, that was rhetorical. Sit down”
“As I was saying” Merlin drawled as he watched Eggsy saunter down next to Roxy, smiling happily “This is the supposed next target, Miss (Y/n) (Y/ln). Twenty years old, daughter to one of the richest men alive. She will be atending a ball tonight, the perfect time for the kidnapping to take place. Your mission is simple, make sure that doesn’t happen”
“Naturally, Roxy and Eggsy will go in posed as guests-”
“Uh, why?” Eggsy asked, studying the picture of the girl on the PowerPoint. Her (E/c) eyes shined with happiness, mouth pulled into a content smile. She held a young child in her arms, swinging him from his elbows. In a way, she reminded him of himself when he played with his little sister.
“Well, you are roughly the same age as her, meaning it will be easier for you to approach the target without being suspected” Merlin answered.
Eggsy nodded in agreement and motioned for the man to continue with the plan.
“Roxy will befriend her whilst you look for danger. The other agents will be posted at various exits if we need to make a quick escape. Got it, good. Dismissed”
*** Eggsy readjusted the sleeves of his suit, scanning the room for the target. She was easy to spot, dancing gracefully with her younger brother on her feet.
Her dress was made of beautiful black lace that ran up and down her arms and chest tightly, but puffed out slightly when it reached her waist. It was reasonably short, falling to just above her knees, showing off her high heeled black boots that looked very hard to walk in, let alone dance. Her (Y/hc) hair was down in loose waves, nails painted black. Stunning.
Eggsy shook his heads quickly, snapping out of his daze when the song finished. He watched as (Y/n) picked up her little brother, kissing his cheeks before passing him to his nanny - a Kingsmen agent in disguise, to make sure nothing happened to the youngest (Y/ln) child - before walking toward the bar to get a drink.
“Roxy-” Eggsy started.
“On it” she replied quickly, moving to stand next to the girl as she ordered.
“Oh my god, I love your shoes!” She squealed like an excited child “where did you get them?”
(Y/n) smiled lightly and turned to tell her. Eggsy lost interested and focused on his part of the mission. He looked around, noticing a few shady charcters all grouped together. They were all older gentlemen, reasonably buff, laughing merrily. They would have seemed like any other party guests, but every so often they would turn and look at (Y/n) with interest as if waiting for something.
Eggsy tried moving closer to them so he could stop them if need be, but Merlin’s voice in his ear stopped him.
“Target is on the move, please tell me it’s one of you twits walking with her”
Eggsy turned his head to the right and cursed quietly. It wasn’t. (Y/n) was talking to a man in his early twenties, giggling and blushing like crazy. The pair had moved away from the bar and were reasonably close to a door, one that would lead onto the many rooms the guests would be staying in that night. He offered her his hand and she shook it politely, smiling.
“Where’s Roxy?” Eggsy asked, scanning for the blonde. But she was no where to be seen. It was if she’d just vanished into thin air.
“Agent Lancelot?” Merlin asked. No response, only crackling.
“Roxy?” Eggsy tried this time, moving closer to (Y/n). There was a sick feeling in his stomach. Everything was already going wrong.
“She’s gone. I’ll try to contact her or locate her at least. In the mean time, follow the target, don’t let her get away”
Eggsy nodded, watching as the pair moved toward the door. The man held it open for her, motioning for him to follow. (Y/n) smiled and obliged. Eggsy sprinted toward the pair, weaving in and out of people as best he could. He caught the door just before it closed, slipping away unnoticed.
He followed the two of them down the corridor and was about to leap into action when they entered another room, the door locking behind them. He swore quietly, explaining his situation to Merlin quietly.
“How many in the room?” He asked.
“At least ten” Merlin responded, reading the thermal emissions of the room.
“That’s funny. Only two went in” Eggsy chuckled “and I have the sneaking suspicion the rest aren’t party guests”
“They’re putting their plan into action now” Merlin agreed.
“What do we do?”
“I’ll hack into the rooms security cameras and project it onto your glasses. I’m working on unlocking the door. Wait until the right moment to bust in, you’ll need backup. Plus they may let some crucial information slip if we wait a moment”
Eggsy focused on the projection on his glasses, hands tightening around his umbrella.
“So then I said to let the poor bugger go” the man ended his story, his back to (Y/n) as he poured her a drink.
“As they should have, hunting animals like that is just cruel” (Y/n) sighed, readjusting her position on her chair.
“I couldn’t agree more” the man nodded, sending her a soft smile over his shoulder.
“It’s so refreshing to meet someone who you see eye to eye with” (Y/n) added, gladly taking the drink from him as he turned around. But as she did so her pointed finger slipped into the cup, falling into the alcohol.
“Oh” she chuckled, quickly pulling it out and shaking it dry “I must be more tipsy than I realise”
The man chuckled at her blushing cheeks, finding her embarrassment quiet amusing.
“To good health” he chimed, raising his glass.
“To good health” she repeated, lifting her glass to her lips. But something out of the corner or her eye made her stop.
The nail polish on the finger - the one that ‘fell’ into her drink - was slowly losing it’s dark colour, turning a bright pink.
“Huh” she chuckled “Well isn’t that strange”.
(Y/n) moved her mouth away from the rim, crossing her arms over her chest.
“So tell me, how many doses of rohypnol did you put in this?” She asked, slowly pouring the drink out onto the carpet. Her attitude had changed from a love-struck giggling woman to an unnervingly calm interrogator.
The man stared at her with his mouth opening and shutting quickly, completely confused.
“Nothing?” She tilted her head to the side “oh what a shame”
She threw the glass quickly at him, spinning round on her heels just as a secret door behind her opened, the burly men from earlier charging in. Her hand slid to her thigh and she pulled out a gun, shooting two of them in the face. She ducked behind her chair, reloading as they fired at her, waiting until one brave soul came too close. She shoved the chair into his stomach, making him topple over. Quickly she jumped over the mess. Grabbing the gun of one surprised man, she used it to smack him in the face with it before turning to face a man to her right. She kicked him in the chest, making him back up a few paces before elbowing him in the face, knocking him out cold.
She turned round to face the remaining two, snarling viciously. One ran - diving out a window, unluckily meeting his end by a Kingsmen agent waiting for him- but the biggest stayed, taunting her forward.
“Come on then, little girl” he hissed, making a 'come at me’ motion with his fingers.
(Y/n) straightened her posture, clicking her heels together. Out sprung a small dagger which she caught in mid air, grinning madly.
She lunged toward him, aiming for his throat. He blocked it quickly, and punched at her stomach. She grunted with the impact, and Eggsy was sure he heard a snapping noise. But she ignored this and lunged again, this time nicking his arm with her weapon just as her other hand boxed him straight in the nose. As he stumbled back in shock, (Y/n) kicked him with all her might, sending him right through a nearby wall and into the next room.
(Y/n) sighed, dusting herself down as debris fell around her. Flipping her (Y/hc) out of her face, she walked toward the man who had offered her the drink, pulling at his tie.
“So David, why are you trying to kidnap me?” She asked, playing with her knife in a threatening way.
“Eggsy-” Merlin started, slightly worried about the guy. He had been strangely silent throughout the full fight.
“On it” he responded quickly, opening the door. He immediately froze when a knife was thrown at him, dodging to the left just to avoid it.
“That one was a warning” (Y/n) hissed, grabbing one of the fallen men’s guns and aiming it at him.
Eggsy put his hands up quickly, a look of terror on his face.
“Miss (Y/n)” Merlin’s voice echoed around the room, making the girl stiffen "We are here to help”
“Who are you?” She asked, looking around for the source of the voice.
“Oxford not Brogues” Eggsy tried, watching as her eyes light up with surprise.
“A Kingsman Agent” she chuckled “of course” she turned her head to the security camera “I thought I told you already Merlin that I’m not interested in joining your little club”
“That’s not why we’re here Guinevere” Merlin responded.
“Don’t call me that you -” she hissed quietly, about to say something a bit rude. But a muffled yell interrupted her.
She frowned, walking slowly toward a cupboard and opening it. Out fell Roxy, gagged and bound and thrashing wildly.
“So why are you here?” (Y/n) directed her question to no one in particular “I’m guessing it’s not just to check up on your favourite rogue agent”
“We were sent here to protect you” Eggsy answered, watching as she untied Roxy, helping the poor girl to her feet.
“Well, as you can see I have it covered” (Y/n) smirked before strutting out the room. Eggsy watched as she walked down the hall, hips swaying, heels clicking on the polished floors.
Roxy rolled her eyes at his hypnotised glance, struggling toward the door.
“Men” she muttered before following after (Y/n), Eggsy closely behind.
Hello! Could you write a Nightwing x Reader
piece please? Involving reader kicking serious butt and saving Nightwing’s hide
as a new (but well trained because blackmail surprisingly works on Damian and
there are some simply adorable pictures of him on reader’s phone..) vigilante?
That would be the greatest, thank you! Have a fantabuloulistic day! Hey,
Vigilante X Nightwing anon again. Just want to clarify, reader knows Nightwing
is Dick Grayson and is dating him, but Nightwing does not know about the reader
being a vigilante. All is revealed in the epic saving of his butt, lol. Thank
I thought this one was pretty fun to write! I hope you enjoy it!
“Robin, I’m at the location,” you say
over your comm as you crawl through the vents of an old abandoned warehouse.
Something Gotham has an abundance of. “I’m closing in on Nightwing’s signal,
and I’m getting multiple thermal readings.”
“Y/N, do not engage until I get there.
It’s too dangerous for you to take them on alone,” Damian says in your ear.
“And why is that? Are you doubting your
training methods?” you ask with a sly smile as you push open a vent. You’re on
the second level of the warehouse, and you hear voices from the open floor
below you. Careful to make sure there aren’t any hostiles around, you crawl to
the window that overlooks the lower level.
“Of course not!” Damian scoffs. “But
you’ve only worked a few burglaries. You aren’t ready for Penguin’s henchmen.”
“We’ll see about that,” you say,
already forming a course of action. Penguin’s henchmen have Nightwing tied to a
chair and are interrogating him with their fists. The sight makes your stomach
drop. “Thermal readings confirm eight hostiles. Robin, how far away are you?”
“Five, ten minutes tops.”
“Good. I’m going in,” you drop into a
dark corner against Damian’s will.
“Ya comfortable enough to talk yet,
Nightwing?” the largest brute gets extremely close to Dick’s face in an act of
intimidation. “Them ropes not convincing enough?”
“Remind me to let my girlfriend give
you lessons in tying people up,” Dick smirks at the brute, but you can see the
pain in his face. You groan internally. Not only is he taunting them, but he’s
joking about things that you’ve never done in your life. “This is nothing
compared to some of her work—”
The brute punches Dick so hard the
chair he’s stuck to topples over. Dick grimaces when the brute pulls his face
up by the hair. “How about now, pretty bird?”
“She hits harder than you, too.”
“Sounds like you got yourself a little
vixen. She tie you up and beat you often?”
“Nah. But she did give my brother a
black eye once for jumping out and scaring her.”
“Well,” the brute says with a sadistic
smile. “I guess I’ll have to find her and see what she’s made of.” Dick’s
entire demeanor shifts from playful stalling to sheer rage.
Before Dick can make the situation
worse for himself, you speak from the shadows. “Nightwing, you should know
better than to spread rumors about Y/S/N. Here’s your chance to find out what
she’s capable of.” You throw a batarang at the thug closest to you,
disorienting him enough to allow you to push him into one of his buddies. The
two bump heads and fall unconscious to the floor.
Three more of Penguin’s thugs run at
you from opposite directions. You wait until the last minute to jump out of the
way so that they all collide and knock themselves out. Another thug lunges at
you, and you redirect his action once he’s in the air so that he tackles one of
the henchmen close to you.
“Y/S/N! Y/S/N, behind you!” Dick
struggles against the ropes holding him to the chair.
Before you comprehend what Dick had
said, you find yourself pinned to the floor by what feels like a brick wall.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty one,” the
thug who was beating Dick sneers at you. You try to keep a straight face and
hide the panic rising in your throat. He’s too strong for you to escape like
this. “I might like to keep you for myself—”
Suddenly the brute is lying beside you
with an escrima stick next to his head.
“Nice aim,” you say in shock.
“I told you not to engage,” Damian
says. You look up to see the Robin untying Dick from his chair. “But… I suppose
you did well.”
Damian helps Dick to his feet, and you
run to him and wrap your arms around him. “Don’t ever do something like that
again! I can’t stand seeing you bruised and bloodied like this,” you look up at
“If it helps, I got the intel we
needed,” Dick rubs your back. “And, is now a good time to ask when you started
wearing a mask?”
“Damian trained me.”
“Not willingly,” Damian mutters.
“A couple of pictures of a certain
sleeping bird can really get him to cooperate,” you smirk at the look on
Damian’s face when you showed him the pictures you had taken while he was
asleep and snuggled up in your Disney Princess blanket.
Damian scoffs, apparently thinking of
the same thing.
You turn your attention back to Dick.
“I wanted to make sure I knew what I was doing before I told you. You’re not
mad, are you?”
“I wouldn’t have made it much longer if
you hadn’t shown up,” Dick dismisses the idea that he could possibly be upset
over this. Relief suddenly washes over you.
“I’m so glad you’re not mad,” you say
with a sigh.
“Mad? Y/N, you saved my ass! It and I
are very grateful,” Dick smiles.
“I’ll save you and it anytime,” you smirk at him. “Because
it is a very nice ass.”
Adrian ordered his men to leave the room, smirking and throwing the ice cold water at Shannon to wake him. “Wake up, you lowlife thief.”
Shannon opened his eyes at the feel of cold water. His first instinct was to try to move before he realized his wrists and legs were bound. Now he remembered. The pain in his head before it all went black.
Slaine slowly rises in the martian ranks, Asseylum remains asleep while her sister tries to take her place, and Inaho finally goes back to the front lines.
Slaine and Inaho are now enemies, fighting for different sides. Or so they’d have people believe.
For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; For want of a shoe, the horse was lost; For want of a horse, the rider was lost; For want of a rider, the message was lost; For want of the message, the battle was lost; For want of a battle, the kingdom was lost, And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.
When they are little, Izar fiddles with the Omnioculars on the floor of their bedroom, or maybe the wind-up toy Kneazle, or maybe a Muggle camera, taking the little machines apart and putting them back together again. Once, after dismantling the radio and putting it back together in such a way that they could hopefully avoid the awful stuff they were playing on WWN, they manage to tune into their next-door neighbors’ conversation.
“Well, you know, I heard they do it all backwards in America—in New York, all the little girls raised to be brutish wizards, and all the men prancing around wooing each other like a witch in the Willow Moon! They’re completely…” Whatever the Americans are is drowned in static as Izar keeps fiddling, shaking their head at their neighbors’ foolishness. That whole witches/wizards thing seems entirely ridiculous to them—why not avoid the complicated business and be both? Or neither?
And although that’s only the very start, later in life Izar privately thinks of that day as The Enlightenment, because all decent scientists need a great epiphany, after all.
When they tell their mother how they wish to be addressed, she says, “But they is only for plural nouns,” and forgets to use the right name. Izar shakes their head much like they did at their neighbors many years ago, like she’s foolish, like this isn’t terribly, terribly crucial. Accuracy is key in science, after all.
“English is a clumsy language, but ‘they’ is what I ask to be called. And even so, as a wise man–I think he was a Muggle–once said, ‘I contain multitudes.’ I contain multitudes, mother.” They leave it at that. Their mother gets their name right every time after a few months, even when it’s only to yell at them to “Stop that incessant mechanical racket!”
It’s frustrating, though, explaining to every investor, and later, once their micromagiosensory lenses are patented, every journalist, that no, they’re not a witch or a wizard, thank you very much. One day, though, a breakthrough comes. A fresh-off-the-presses magazine arrives in the mail, and they’re on the cover, wearing the armor that lets them fly like a dragon on atmospheric thermal columns. The Quibbler, reads the header of the magazine, and just below that in flashing block letters, “Izar Benneton: Wix of the Year.”
I might…continue this. Depending on how it goes over. So EXCELLENT prompt. Hope it’s even sort of close to what you were hoping for.
“Eyes up here!” Claire clicked and watched as all four raptors looked at up her. “Charlie! Charlie, don’t give me that shit, up here. Thata girl.” Claire snapped her fingers and then grinned. “And we’re moving!” She moved effortlessly along the catwalk above the enclosure, her attention never swaying from the four animals beneath her, their eyes trained on her.
She knew that Vic Hoskins was there, and yeah, she was putting on a show for him. Showing off. Her skills, the raptors’ skills. She wanted him to know that she could do the job, and do it fucking well.
Vic Hoskins was, of course, a real asshole. It gave her great pleasure to constantly prove him wrong.
Early readings: Increased metabolism. Improved thermal homeostasis. Early readings: Neuro-electric sensitivity. Micro-cellular manipulation.
Avengers: Age of Ultron Prelude: This Scepter’d Isle by Will Corona Pilgrim & Wellinton Alves
Anyone want to explain what the words in that bottom panel mean?
The only new information in this comic is that Hydra is using some kind of anti-war liberation movement, which Wanda and Pietro are part of, as cover. This explains the “if they find out we serve Hydra” line in the post-credits scene with Strucker. No one knows that Strucker and these Hydra guys are actually Hydra, so I’m guessing the reaction when the Avengers, including Iron Man who was involved in the bombing of their country, show up to fight them will not be positive. These prelude comics aren’t 100% reliable (and sometimes, the stuff in them is thrown out), but this makes sense and Hydra’s already pretended to be Shield for decades so it’s probably right.
And, for the record, anyone who tells you this comic says the twins are Inhumans is a goddamn liar. There is not a word about Inhumans anywhere in this. There is another mention of the scepter and the Tesseract being related somehow, but the guy who figures out how they’re related gets shot before he can explain it.
There was no physical representation of a new beginning. The world did not wipe itself clean when it was instructed to. As a girl she’d wanted to press nature into a calendar’s firm structure.
How very unscientific of you, Mulder murmurs into her hair. She rests a hand against the cold glass of their wide living room windows. The wind teases the tall grass beyond their porch into a simply choreographed sway, grey snow sliding off their steps as it appeases the laws of thermal energy.