#'no spoilers' i say about a fic that with my track record i may never finish

[toasterdrake]

"No offense, but you're the last person I expected to see."

Dimples impressing her cheeks, Yasmina was still smiling, so Robin didn't take offense, shrugging instead. "Then my surprise worked." The charismatic grin she wore softened into a real smile. "It's good to see you, Yaz."

"Hell, you too." Yasmina tugged her back in for a stronger hug, hands folding firmly into the leather of her jacket. "You have no idea," she added quietly, voice muffled by her place nestled in the crook of Robin's neck.

writing their reunion in oasis got me like

bonus bc theyre cringe losers:

if anyones wondering yeah yaz does punch robin. are we surprised?

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Request-ish for great 7 au if you dont mind, but what kinds of pictures do you think the g7 keep of yuu? Whether in like a photo book or their wallet or whatever? (Also if you dont mind maybe what their favorite photo of yuu is as well?) Love your writing have a good day!

A Picture of Yuu

Trying to ease myself back into writing and decided to try this out as a semi request! Gn yuu per usual, minot spoilers for ch 2— This is based of my Great 7 fic Unit:Yuu!

Notes: I do not know what kind of Arab Jafar is Aba/Baba for him, please let me know if this incorrect—

Queen of Hearts + Jabberwock

The Queen of Hearts has always been a zany one to say what photo she has of you that she adores on any given day would be difficult. In short, she loves them all!

It is such a shame that instant photography wasn't a thing back in her era, she would have taken so many photos of herself and Wonderland and she would have loved to show you all of them, it would certainly save the Jabberwock from having to explain so much.

The Queen watches you from afar as she drifts into her own thoughts. How she would have loved to take you into Wonderland with her and have your portraits done together.

Perhaps you could take your camera with you and you both can record all the memories you make together? How fitting would it have been to have photos of you in your wackiest poses and outfits up on the walls without having to get each one painstakingly painted?

She watches you rest the Jabberwocks head on her lap, and a smile graces her face at the sight of her little Rose with her greatest warrior. Should she still have her kingdom, she would have barked orders for the royal painter immediately.

Perhaps she doesn't have a favorite photo or picture of you because it hasn't made it yet, and as you take a photo of you and her with the Jabberwock all together (a photo you will undoubtedly hide from Crowley), she realizes she would never be able to find a favorite, as all she wants to now is to keep taking more.

Scar + The Hyenas

Scar has seen Rafiki's artwork before, and he was never impressed by the crude cave paintings he made, especially the ones that represented him.

If Rafiki were to have made one of you, however... he wouldn't know how to feel.

Even then, he much prefers these cameras and their strange instant paintings, after all he has never looked better in them! They really catch his good side!

Scar would huff in faux uninterest when he sees you pointing the camera around and taking photos of those three idiot hyenas around Ramshackle. And when you take photos of him he certainly doesn't strike a pose on purpose! (He snarls at Ed who even thinks about mentioning the idea.)

Still even as you show all of the photos you took, even of the ones of you, the hyenas, and him, it can never compare to the old "photo" of you and him together that he keeps hidden.

Cub is what he called you. To him, you were one. He was teaching you how to hunt with those Hyenas, how to sneak up on your prey and attack, and your victorious smile as you helped them take down a gazelle.

He remembered his muddy paws dragging across stony ground as Banzai carried the gazelle carcass with him, the group of hunters having to take it to the fire so you can eat.

Scar noticed how you suddenly stopped in your tracks and stared down at the ground. Annoyed, Scar huffed telling you to hurry up, and when you went on your knees and poked at the ground below you he snarled and circled back to you

That was when he noticed you were staring at his paw print in part of the ground. Your child self seemed to glow when you saw it, and you took your own muddy and bloodied hand and put it right over his print as if comparing sizes. When you took it away, he saw your small handprint right on his.

He may have actually have had a soft moment with you then and there if it wasn't for the hyena's prodding. Upon seeing the hand and paw print, Ed immediately remarked on how he wanted to do that too, and put his own next to yours, then Shenzi and Banzai, ever competitive, started arguing about doing the same, shoving each other out of the way to put their paw down as well.

In the end, all of your prints were together in a way that oddly resembled Rafiki's dribble. "Are you all satisfied now?" He huffed, snarling, "Now go! All of you!" He barked making the hyenas walk off and you follow. As you all walked off he tore up that part of the stone from the ground and carried it in his mouth, following the cackle closely behind with it.

He despised the way some child managed to worm his way into his heart and yet here is years later with you all grown up, and he still has the stone tablet hidden away for his eyes only. He refuses to let you see how soft he has gotten for you.

Shenzi definitely knows of it and tells you about his secret, prompting Scar to try and kill her.

Ursula + The Eels

Oh dear, now that's a question all right.

If it was up to her and she was able to have had you down in Atlantica, she would have hung so many paintings of you and her poopsies on her grotto walls, your chubby baby self was adorable, you know?

She often has fleeting thoughts of being the one to have brought you up under the sea. Just her a single mom and her three kids as her accomplice in villainy. How she would teach you how to brew the most powerful potions and run a good business...

Even now, she watches the curious glint in your eyes as you explore NRC and takes photos of everything, she's happy you have started to discover who you are.

You naturally take a lot of photos of her new makeup looks, along with your eel brothers wearing matching drag with you. She loves to pick up the Polaroids and commits them to memory, swiping her thumb over herself along with her children's faces lovingly.

It was during one of your weekly drag/makeup nights together. You had on some dramatic trashy show in the background as you all talked and did makeup. You kept one of your eyes closed ad Flotsam hangs on your neck like a scarf, using his tail to hold a brush and dab on eyeshadow while you work on Jetsam's eyebrows. Ursula smiled at the sight of her children bonding.

The peace didn't last long, as you made a particularly shady remark about that crow bastard causing Flotsam to cackle and squeeze you slightly, and Jetsam to slap you fave lightly with his tail.

As the Sibling Codex states, you all now must duel in a free for all and allow no survivors. There are no rules to uphold any honor.

Standing up, you pried Flotsam's body making him loosen the grip around your neck, and flung up the arm that Jetsam was anchored on.

Comically, the dangling eel slapped the camera sitting on the coffee table up from where it was and snap a photo.

"Jetsam! I swear if the camera is broken—" "Hey you're the one that flung me!"

Picking up the camera and looking it over you let out a breath of relief before checking out the film that came out

"Come here dear let me see..." Urusla spoke as you walked over.

Though slightly blurry, the photo featured all of you. You had a bright smile on your features as did your siblings who were smushed into you as fashionable accessories. In the background, Ursula sat elegantly admiring her children. And though she wasn't the center of the photo, she loved to see her children happy.

Were she were back in her grotto, this photo would have been displayed as one of her most prized possessions.

Jafar + Iago

It wasn't often he dreamt, but when he did, he dreamed big. He was Sultan of the Sands and the most powerful sorcerer of all with you as his heir by his side. Sure, Iago would be there too he supposes...

He would rule with an iron fist and bring about a Golden Age for his kingdom while tutoring you on the side, teaching you laws and ideals and the most powerful spells he knows. There would be all sorts of depictions of the two of you, mosaics, tapestries, poems, paintings, and perhaps even a few statues as well.

You would both be depicted as you should: powerful and intelligent... and Iagos there too he guesses...

So imagine his surprise when his favorite photo isn't a pretentious one at all.

When you first got your camera, he took pride in being photographed and always posed his very best, he wouldn't stand for any unsightly photos you may try to take. He would stand tall with Iago on his shoulder and staff in hand, evil and powerful. He would hate to be depicted as anything less.

As you set up the ghost camera on the stand, you start to take a few experimental photos as well as test out the timer function on it. Honesty it was thanks to Jafar it worked, his intuition and knowledge of technology were always remarkable.

"Any more trouble from that device, Yuu?" Jafar's voice snaps you out of focus as you turn to him standing in the common room, Iago perched where he usually was. "Nope not anymore, thank you Baba" you smile as you check out the camera again.

"Want to try and take a photo with me to test it out?" "If you mean one of those 'selfies' I will have to refuse!" "No, no, not like that I promise!"

Arching a brow and heaving a sigh Jafar relents. You get to work setting up the camera before running over to pose with them. You watched as the timer counted down... 4...3...2...

Suddenly, you throw yourself into Jafar in a deep hug as Iago squawks indignantly. The flash goes off. Sputtering for a moment as he takes a moment to adjust himself, he huffs. "What was the meaning of that Diamond?" Jafar snaps as he shoots you a glare. "Yeah that's the big deal?!" Iago cawed.

You smirked as you snagged the Polaroid out of the camera and aired it out with a few shakes before showing the pair.

The photo showed you pulling Jafar closer to you, holding onto and nuzzling into him dearly like a toddler would do their mother. He actually wore the slightest smile in the photo. Iago's wings were spread and for once he looked like the lively bird he was and not some villainous lackey.

"I have a lot of photos of Jafar and Iago, but none of my baba and my friend" You muttered holding the photo close to you. "But now I do, and don't worry it's for my eyes only... I would hate to ruin your image.

Jafar shuts his eyes for a moment, perhaps he was unintentionally and unknowingly strict. "No no, retake the photo, little one." He says as he holds your shoulder. "Let's take another photo as a family this time."

Jafar and Iago both sat on the rickety couch of Ramshackle as you set up the camera again before running back and sitting next to them. Iago hopped into your lap as you hugged the vizier. Jafar looked down at you both lovingly before wrapping his arms around you gently, allowing the camera to snap, and like that, his favorite photo of you was made.

Queen Grimhilde + The Raven

Ever since staying in Ramshackle, the Evil Queen would dream about being back home in her palace. She would walk down the halls of rooms and for a moment pretend the floors were stone and echoed with her steps and not creak under her weight. The walls were to be lined with intricate decor and tapestries along with art, and as she walks into your room to look at the mirror, she imagines it's her vanity where she would admire herself.

Raven stood on her shoulder preening her and she shut her eyes imagining the glory days when she ruled but this time she imagines herself with you at her side.

How you would sit on the stool in front of her vanity and look at yourself in the mirror as she clasps a necklace onto you after she finished dressing you up. How you would walk beside her amongst the guards and servants as she enters the throne room which used to have a lone throne but now has two.

How you would both sit regally as she deals with nobles and teach you how to rule with an iron fist and to be your worst possible self. How she would take you to her garden and poisons and teach you how to grow and use each one, later taking you into her study to practice your potionology.

You deserved much better than this place in her eyes, and once she gets her body back she will ensure you both rise to power once again. Even if you are currently living in a... less than ideal situation she will have you carry yourself with the same level of respect and pride she feels like you should have.

She shows you which plants can be used for hair and skin and makeup. She shows you how to embroider your clothes and sew. She shows you proper manners for everything as well— no child of hers will be taken for a slob. Your elegance hides your wild side and villainous upbringing well, only showing it to those who are worthy.

Her ghost sits across from you in the guest room, a glass of tea poured out for her in her honor though she can't drink from it. You finish up your latest piece as you push the needle through a few more times. Letting out a breath of relief, you tuck away the needle and hold out the new dress shirt you made in your preferred style. "Good work," she says approvingly as the Raven lets out a squawk, and you both continue to chat about your day.

The next day, you put on the shirt you worked so hard on, slipping on the right pants, shoes, and homemade accessories to match. Today, your mother decides to help you put on some light makeup, her ghost guiding your hands to apply foundation.

She then helps you put on your accessories and she is reminded of the fantasy she had the other day. "Thank you, Mama." You say smiling. "I guess this is my first official... complete outfit..." You didn't any decent clothes to start with since coming here, and even when you wore nicer things, you could never truly make it your own, you couldn't have your own style. Yet in the mirror you see all of your hard work put into sewing and saving, creating an outfit from your mother's love.

You look at yourself in the hand mirror you own as the Queen holds your face lovingly. "Shall we take a photo to commemorate the occasion?" You ask, smiling. "Ah yes, that ghost camera of yours can see me, can't it?"

You nod and begin to set the camera up. The Queen never cared for the photos it took, preferring the status symbol of oil paintings in her castle. As you stood next, she helped to pose you at the perfect angle, adjusting your posture and such as she stood beside you, hand on your head.

The photo came out, and it was as perfect as she would imagine it to be. Admiring it, she thinks back to getting her power again and her castle back, and for some reason, the first thing she imagines doing is to recreate this portrait with you, this time in paint, and the highest quality clothes you want.

Hades + Pain & Panic

His favorite photo of you? One where you look your best, one where you look powerful and strong and— oh wait his favorite photo of you?

When Hades found out the ghost camera can register him, he and his imps were over the moon. You best believe you had to make him look cool. (You gave in because Hades was never given the same respectable portraits compared to his family).

Every photo of him portraying him positively... touched my heart. He wasn't the unwanted brother or the laughing stock, outcasted and forgotten. He was Hades, God of the Underworld.

The imps also loved any photos of them taken positively, but they also didn't mind the funny ones too. Honestly, these two were absolute menaces with the camera, often stealing it and taking the worst photos of you.

Though you have some photos of yourself, or with your friends, none of them ever truly called out to Hades. He would simply see some as neat or use photos to lovingly bully you. Yet when he thought about it, all of his siblings seemed to always have some sort of art piece representing their children, he remembers Zeus and his insane amount of photos of his brat when he was born after all. He can't help but sort of desire one... but what?

For a good, while he can't help but look at all the photos you take and pay special attention to the ones that you were in— you best believe that if you have a photo with one of your friends he's gonna tease you for your "boyfriend".

As he goes through them he tries to find one that feels like it shows off his kid well, yet he can't. You look good in all of your photos, but you didn't feel like you. That's the one thing he's noticed since coming here. You couldn’t be your true self, you weren't allowed to bare your teeth and be truly free the way you should be.

Hades actually stews on this for a while silently, Pain and Panic bother him about it much to his chagrin. As the days went by Hades seemed to get more and more and more annoyed by your environment sucking the life out of you. Homework was annoying, Ramshackle sucked, and that damned crow bastard keeps dumping responsibility onto you! How is his kiddo supposed to shine like this?!

Recently, Crowley dumped another annoying task onto you— something stupid about looking into clumsy kids. You hated it but got Pain and Panic ready to help you as you went about interviewing victims and such. It was rotten work.

Maleficent + Diaval

Eventually, with your idiot squad, things picked up, and you came up with the idea of catching the perpetrator with your camera, as Crowley states he needs evidence. One thing led to another. Here we are in the Savanahclaw Dorm, facing the lion down face to face. Pain and Panic stood on either side of you as you stood your ground, stance widening to prepare for a fight.

And fight you did. Hades watched in absolute awe as you fought against the blot, rolling and sliding past attacks while seizing any opportunity to get a hit or to create an opening for your friends. Pain and Panic both helped, occasionally lashing at Leona to throw off his aim or providing your some healing and shielding with their shapeshifting abilities.

As the dust settled, and the sun rose higher in the sky, your silhouette stood amongst the rubble as you panted, fists still clenched. You had a powerful aura around you along with a steely gaze as you stared down at the lion beneath you. Panic suddenly pops up, ghost camera in hand as he snaps a photo. "How's that for proof?" he snickers alongside Pain as you finally relax.

The photo standing over your opponent had exactly what the other photos of you lacked. There was a fire in your eyes, a confident stance, and though dirt-covered and sweaty, you were unapologetically you in the moment. Not to mention badass.

Yet that wasn't the only reason Hades adored it. The image reminded of him Zeus' brat he despised. How that damned Hercules would be painted and shown off everywhere as a legend with his powerful stance, often standing over the slain monsters that Hades meticulously put together to defeat him.

And yet... here you were: A mirror image of him, a perfect foil. And unlike Hercules, you were still here and so was he. That brat failed to kill him. Through his child, he has won... Ha! Take that, Zeus! Just wait for round 2! This time, he won't fail.

Maleficent is also one who doesn't understand newer technology. She simply can't wrap her head around a device that makes portraits instantly without magic. After a bit of explanation from Diaval (who still doesn't know much), she simply accepts it.

Like Grimhilde, the Fae much prefers painted portraits, and often finds herself imagining how you would look in one every time she sees one of your "selfies".

The Fae Queen finds it endearing that you want to take photos of her and your dear uncle Diaval, trying your best to make some good memories in this miserable place. Even on your nightly walks together, you bring your camera with you to photograph the wildlife around you.

Seeing your features light up just by seeing the smallest bug makes her feel a strange sense of pride as if this proves you belong to her and the forest of the fae. She's glad to know that enjoys nature just as much as her.

Passing by a small pond, the three of you pause for a moment. Diaval, in his crow form, is happily perched onto your shoulder, nuzzling and preening you as you give him a few scratches and look up to the night sky above you. As your eyes reflect the stars, Maleficent is reminded of a fond memory.

You were a child at the time, to be honest, she couldn't tell you how old you were, at her age, all children start looking the same.

The fae was coming to terms with being a ghost— a ghost stuck inside a child no less— and she certainly did not appreciate it. How could such a pudgy and idiotic vessel possibly be worthy of the Mistress of All Evil?

She would sneer at the idea of growing attached to you. Even as your child self waved and smiles at her, she snarled in response, baring her fangs at you. To her surprise, you merely giggled. She wasn't amused.

No matter how many times she snapped and told you to go away, or order Diaval to distract you, you would always come back to her eventually. She just didn't get it, why do you like her so much?! Under the guise of not wasting her breath or energy, she stopped trying to distance herself from you, allowing your small baby hands to play with her cloak or touch her horns. You were a curious little beastie, weren't you?

She remembers watching you grow up little by little, watching your kid self play with Diaval as a crow and give each other affection, how she cast protection spells on you as you ran through the forest barefoot, cursing any sharp stones you may step on.

She remembers guiding you as you picked berries and copied the animals you saw. She remembers singing you lullabies and telling you stories of her home, hoping she could take you to it. Her warnings about trusting men.

She remembers how unequivocally she fell for the child that melted her heart, and how she assigned Diaval to you, making him promise to always watch out for you and to serve you as he did her.

And she especially remembers how you approached her with a scribbled-on, crumpled sheet of paper. You babbled as you held up the piece to her. Kneeling down with her usual stern expression, she examined the scribbles closer.

Crude lines depicted an all-black horned figure holding a staff in one hand, hand awkwardly stretched out to touch hands with the tiny figure in the middle. An attempt at a blackbird was drawn in the other outstretched hand of the child, its best open in a caw. All of the figures had clumsy smiles. Arrows pointed to all of the figures labeled 'Me' 'Malycent' and 'Diovl'

Diaval perched on Maleficent's shoulder, getting the best look he could before swooping in and nuzzling your kid self. As you laughed and giggled Maleficent allowed a small smile to grace her features as she watches you play.

To this day, she still has the piece of paper in her cloak, enchanted with the strongest protection spell she could do in her current state. In her mind, no other portrait than the one you drew could ever compare.

Perhaps one day when she rules from her thorny castle, she will have this art piece framed in her study, for her eyes only.

[karanseraph]

Alien robots can have accents

This might be spoilers for The Life and Times of Skywarp fic, but just going through my process in public, because sometimes this helps me think and organize my thoughts.

Alien robots can have accents, because other planets have regions and culture and also because if we encounter them, they can assimilate our language(s) differently.

Also, Transformers media has pretty much always had this as a thing, because, with one notable exception I can think of, humans recorded their voices.

What a character's accent sounds like can differ, like if one piece of media was recorded in Canada, for example, and another recorded in Japan, let's say, then even if a character has a regional accent in both, that character doesn't necessarily have the same type of regional accent.

some non-audio media also calls out quirky speech patterns and accents in the written dialogue.

OK, that's all understood stuff we all know.

Now, I'm trying to think what accents and mannerisms Thrust and Ramjet have when we meet them through Skywarp's POV in a fic.

So, I the writer (and I've noted this bias in the various notes attached to the fic) am writing in English, because that's my language. And mostly it's North American/US/Eastern/Mid-Atlantic because that's my region. But, here and there there may be deviations or variations. The characters aren't actually speaking English on Cybertron, I'm just writing the story in my language.

The POV character is Skywarp, who, like many people, does not perceive his own accent unless someone else calls it out. So, descriptions of the other Cybertronian characters having any dialect or accent difference get filtered through the character's perception.

Skywarp, the character, in this fic, is based in Vos which is in the south and east of Cybertron. He doesn't always know what region a dialect is associated with when he first hears it. He just notices it's different or more difficult to parse.

So like, when I'm writing, I would not say "Nyonienne" is French." It's not. It's really not. It's an alien dialect/accent of whatever Cybertronian languages is spoken in that era. But, I might write that when Skywarp met Eriel and she gave her designation the way she pronounced certain airy phonemes was different enough that he wasn't sure how to spell her name. It might have been Oryal or Ariel or Auriel.

Skywarp knows Mirage, Tracks, Red Alert, Thundercracker, Flatline, and Daytrader are all from and/or based in Iacon, but he also knows they don't all sound the same and supposes this is because Iacon has 'street' and 'spire' differences as well as being a big region with suburbs.

OK, so back to Ramjet and Thrust. Skywarp has never met them in person. He knows of them. He knows they are based out of Unitrex which is generally in the north and has a cliffy Rust Sea coast and is known as City of the Stars. When there was a big Seeker meeting, Ramjet sent Red Wing and Laserbeak as emissaries, but Laserbeak is an older bot with his own fawning skeksis-like mannerisms and Red Wing was a new recruit to their team, possibly assimilating language elsewhere.

I think this version of Ramjet is like if a locally-famous rock star from a metal band (they might be The Heralds or just Heralds?) that sings songs about chaos, destruction, and sometimes romance received some regional knighthood-like honor due to his emotive spark-felt singing and took it way too seriously and acts like he's some kind of Seeker-Rock-Paladin, but it's hard to tell because whenever he's not singing his manner is over-the-top facetious and sarcastic to the point of deadpan lying about everything. But the bots on his team legitimately think he's great and consider him their leader, because he totally signed up for that! Also, he crashes through things a lot.

The Sir Rock Star thing seems British coded, even if organics are more likely to seem him as their mechanical steed than a shining white knight. Does another region have this intersection of musician and public treasure, like if one is an idol singer or such? Ramjet could also be that.

But Thrust is...loud and boasts about how great their team is, but acts mainly as Ramjet's conspiratorial spiritual advisor going on and on about the stars and alignments and the symbolic meaning of colors in other bots' decos and what elemental energies he promises he can sense in others.

Some Thrusts are vaguely Western-like? But is Thrust also Brit-coded but like old British occultist flavor? And he goes about saying every bot is a star and do what thou wilt and talking about magic?

But they aren't really British at all. They're alien robots throwing brutal warehouse raves in Unitrex as a cover to spy on the Titan-building project nearby.

[aranarumei]

B, F, K?

thought abt going thru all of my fics and felt an intense bout of decision fatigue so I’ve decided to limit things to mostly a3, which I think is probably the more interesting way to answer, anyways. I ramble so this is a bit lengthy.

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

oh yeah. I am Not Immune to Projecting Sometimes. I know I just said I’d talk abt a3 but this bakugou-centric fic was just me drawing heavily on my personal experiences with like. complicated family dynamics and it seemed to go okay so. I’m pleased with it mostly bc i felt like the conclusion wasn’t very… wish fulfillment? which is nice sometimes, but not what i wanted. 

on the a3 side, the Specifics are rather different but dress for success was definitely inspired by conversations i’ve had about gender and presentation before... but the detail drawn most from real life was probably juza’s thoughts about his smile, particularly that he’s just a guy that. Doesn’t Smile. As a kid i was 100% the sort of like. Person who has never smiled ever to my classmates and that made me later in life believe that i was just like. Incapable of smiling properly. I smile lots nowadays tho :) 

F: Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

[LUKE] It’s not. Besides, when I wake up, won’t you be there? On the other end of sleep, and “ Good night,” is a “Good morning”. You don’t need to follow me into everything, as long as you know you’ll see me again. [S] “Good night” is a very strange greeting, then. [LUKE] Maybe so. More than a greeting, I think it feels like a promise. 

clockwork heart is. my favorite play. it may even be my favorite event. (tough competition w/ captain’s sky pirates + my master’s mesmerized by mystery for me. and nocturnality.) 

this snippet is really just. it's kind of barely a fic. the whole post is not that long. I had Lots Of Thoughts about how luke, at the end of a clockwork heart, says, “So it’s just good night for now.” it was, to me, just such a perfect encapsulation of the idea that this separation was temporary and not forever, even though they were both saying goodbye, so I wanted to write something that expanded on that idea a little. i think it's effective, seeing as how I get more emotional about the ending, now, and the script format forced me to pretty much rely on dialogue alone.

K: What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with? 

this made me look at myself and be like… huh, i think i’ve decreased in angst as i’ve grown older. interesting.

anyways i think mine would be…  there’s this backstage for nocturnality (so like, spoilers for that) where azuma is transported into the world of nocturnality and like. meets with kota after the ending of the play. and he makes this comment about like. oh, I prefer tasuku to kota, after all. 

and it just like. I’ve never stopped thinking abt that. so I had the sketches of an idea where it’s like. azuma is dropped into that world only like… he Stays There for wayyyy longer than a couple of hours. and u get very fun stuff of like. kota projects his feelings about reo onto azuma and azuma kind of does the same, and the like… lines blur a little badly and they probably lash out at each other somewhat. and it’s a bit complicated, since at this point in time azuma and tasuku have grown closer but they still don’t know each other Perfectly. and he’s not even here but there’s a guy with his face who is Almost Like Him (and how well can you be sure you knew tasuku, too…) all while you’re also slowly losing your sense of self because like, in this world, “reo” is the real existence?  there was also gonna be some kind of drama with the vampire society I think… since azuma would actually be like Human and not. Turned Yet. 

anyways it never rly went anywhere bc it would have to be a lengthy multichap and i’ve got a slow track record with those. i need to finish at least One. these are all also just like… vague concepts that i hadn’t fleshed out into proper plot beats, so it requires a Lot of Work that i just. don’t want to do currently. but i think it could be like. really fun.

ask me about fics & stuff!

[4ng3l-0n-34rth]

Intimidated: Prologue// a Steve Harrington x Dustin's sibling! reader

not my gif!!

a/n: Greetings! This is my first fic in a while so i hope it serves you well. I have been finding so many Steve fics where he's dating Dustins older sibling, and I think they're the cutest thing in the world, so obviously I had to write one of my own. This is a first part in what i hope to make a series, since my ideas always flood the page... so enjoy!

warnings: i like my fics real fluffy so not much just mild swearing

summary: you're Dustin's older sibling and although Steve is never someone you'd find yourself talking too, he happens to keep showing up in your home to visit his best buddy, so obviously some introductions (and maybe unexpected connections) are made! This is a bit of a background chapter just to get an understanding of the readers relationships to the characters so that i can get into the good stuff >:)

THERE ARE NO SEASON 4 SPOILERS!! but season 4 characters may appear or be mentioned among further installments! This story takes place after season 3 around the time the main kids would be starting freshman year! OH AND you're a senior at Hawkins high.

1,194 words

next part

now playing: STILL LIFE BY IRON MAIDEN

"Y/N IF YOU DO NOT TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN IM COMING UP THERE AND UNPLUGGING IT!" You couldn't help but stifle a laugh at your younger brothers protests. He had Lucas over to play games on the Atari he had saved up for, and finally had the chance to buy, and boy was he excited. Its not every day mainstream items made their way to the store shelves in Hawkins. "YOU KEEP COMPLAINING AND I'M UNPLUGGING YOUR PRECIOUS CONSOLE!" is all you said back. The only reason you were listening to your music so loud in the first place was to drown out the boys shouts, but of course Dustin didn't like that, and next thing you knew he was banging on your door.

As you get up to unlock the door, Dustin shoves right past you on a mission to reach your prized record player. "Dustin what the fuck!" you state as you reach a hand out grabbing him by the wrist and stopping him in his tracks. "HEY!" is all he can say before he looks up to you, not wanting to press after seeing the glare you were giving him. "Barge into my room again and you aren't going to your little playdate tonight." He just scoffed and rolled his eyes, so you pressed further twisting his wrist in your grasp. Not enough to hurt him badly though, and Lucas just stared blankly in the hallway, not daring to step into your room. "Now get out, and if you want the music quieter try and stop shouting... please?" you softened your grip as you spoke, and Dustin gave what appeared to be an understanding nod, so you let go. As Lucas let out an audible sigh of relief, Dustin let out a soft giggle before sprinting to unplug your record player and took a straight shot for the door before you even realized what had happened.

"DUSTIN! GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!!" you yelled chasing him through the house, as he ran screaming. Luckily your mom wasn't home or else you'd both be in trouble from the noise and knocked over items in your wake, but as of right now dustin was the only one about to have his ass handed to him. When you finally got him cornered all the way downstairs into the kitchen you grabbed him by the face and looked him dead in the eyes. "Dustin Henderson you know what happens when you go in my room, and not only did you welcome yourself into my room, YOU TOUCHED MY SHIT!" he just stared at you blankly as you were fuming, but then you heard the doorbell.

"Lucas, honey could you get the door please?" you say kindly, but your expression never wavered, and although you never turned around to look at him he just nodded and complied. All of Dustin's friends liked you, some adored you even, but they all also mutually agreed to never fuck with you because they would rather die than be in Dustins position right now.

As Lucas swung the door open, none other than Steve Harrington stood in the doorway. "Oh hey Lucas!" you could hear him say cheerily. Rolling your eyed you sighed and let go of your brother, as he internally thank the heavens Steve happened to make a guest appearance, whilst rubbing his jaw to soothe where your grip just was. "Oh goodie, Harrington decided to show up," you scoff, now leaning on the counter, where you were visible to the open doorway. "I'm kind of in the middle of reprimanding your bestie back here if you don't mind." Steve just looked at you confused until Dustin walked up behind you and gave an exasperated wave. "Hey Steve.." he said quietly, unsure if he should even be interrupting, or just wait for his sisters reign of terror to fall back on him.

"Well then I'm sorry to interrupt, but Dustin told me you were going to let me take the kids for ice cream." he said unsurely, rubbing the back of his neck. If anyone was intimidated by you it was definitely Steve Harrington. Although he's only really known of you since the events of Star Court Mall, there was something about you that made him always want to walk on the other side of the hall when he passed you, but that wasn't a bad thing in his opinion. Whatever it was that was steering him away from you ended up drawing him in closer. He found your hard exterior fascinating, and even though it made him nervous in your presence he found it endearing.

"Oh he did now?" you angrily turn to your brother. "I don't recall him asking. Do you remember asking me, Dustin?" He gulps and after being frozen in fear for a moment he shakes his head no. You finally allow yourself to calm down from the events prior and rest a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Dustin, did you really have to call him just to go get ice cream? I could've taken you y'know." You gave a bit of a softer smile now. Although to the outside eye, your arguments with your brother may seem very heated, you both knew you loved each other, and getting under the others skin was something that happened often and the both of you normally brush it off before it gets too extreme.

"Now since you made him drive all the way out here to take you, i don't see why not, but you have to say sorry. Oh and bring me something home, okay?" He nods and mumbles, "I'm sorry Y/N..." "For?" you press. "I'm sorry for going into your room without permission, and for unplugging your record player." You smile, satisfied with his response, and then go digging through your pocket for your wallet. "Ok I'm giving you a whole ten dollars, so you better not make Steve pay for the two of you. Oh and while you're at it try and get some real food so I don't have to make the two of you dinner when you get home." You held out the ten dollar bill and Dustin happily took it from you, prancing to the door.

You follow behind to say a few words to the two boys at the door who just stood and watch the scene, sharing a few glances as it all unfolded. "Okay! you boys better behave and stay out of trouble," you look up to Steve. "And please don't be afraid to scold them i know they can get a little out of control, but they better come home in one piece because if something happens under your watch, it happened under my watch, so don't make me regret trusting you." Steve just nodded silently, and the boys ran out to his car arguing over who got to sit shotgun. Steve looked almost scared to speak as he just stood in the doorway, mouth agape as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't get out the right words, until..

"Hey, do you wanna uh.. do you wanna tag along?"

next part

[detectivereyes]

Even If You Stumble A Step, You’re Still Moving Forward

Summary: TK and Carlos move into their new home post-finale and TK doesn't exactly make the best first impression on their new neighbors...

Notes: this was like a fever dream i had a few months ago and then i stopped writing but decided to revive it last night so... here we are. also title creds (and emotional support creds) to jillian @marjansmarwani​ because this fic wouldn’t exist without her. and also s/o to brit @moviegeek03​ for being extra supportive of yet another fic where [spoiler] tk falls down the stairs again :/

read on ao3

TK shuffles through the maze of boxes stacked several feet high throughout their new home. The scene shouldn’t surprise him considering it was only a few months ago he was moving his own boxes into their old home. However it feels different knowing that most of this stuff isn’t actually theirs.

Well, it is theirs now he figures. But the fact remains that most of the stuff filling the space was either given to them by various members of the extended 126 family, or was recently purchased by TK or Carlos on one of their many trips to Bed Bath and Beyond. 

They had taken their time searching for a new place to live. Owen had made it clear that they were both welcome to stay with him (and Mateo) for as long as they needed, but TK had known it was time.

So when a townhome popped up on Zillow that met all their criteria, they wasted no time booking an appointment with the realtor. They both had instantly fallen in love with the open floor plan and deck out back. Plus they knew the extra bedrooms upstairs may come in handy someday.

While they knew the vertical layout of the home itself wasn’t the best, having more stairs than either of them were used to, it checked every other box and was right in their price range so they had wasted no time signing the lease.

A few days had passed since settlement and now most of their days were spent trying to unpack and make this new house into a home. It would never replace the one they had lost, but it had been exciting to build this new home together.

Though on this particular day, TK found himself alone in trying to get settled in since Carlos had a shift. With the 126 still out of commission, possibly forever, and the department not having any openings for paramedics, most of the unpacking was left for TK.

After getting a good chunk of the living room done, he checks the time and decides to go out and see if the mail has come yet. Not that he’s expecting anything with their address still being so new, and not getting much physical mail anyway to begin with. But it still provided a good excuse to take a break.

TK opens the front door and starts to make his way down the set of stairs leading down. 

He makes it about halfway before his attention is caught by one of his new next door neighbors, Mr. Martin- if he remembers correctly, exiting at the same time. Mr. Martin gives a friendly wave and TK goes to return the gesture.

Except, he’s not paying attention when he takes the next step, and he misses, his heel just barely hitting the edge of the step before he starts to go down. He tumbles until he comes to a hard stop at the bottom, with most of his weight coming down on his right knee, sending shooting pains up and down his leg.

The rest of his body is sore, and by the time his ears stop ringing, he can just barely make out a new female voice asking “Sir, are you okay?”

He opens his eyes, which he had not even realized he had squeezed shut at some point, to see his neighbor, Mrs. Bailey- his brain supplies, from across the street making her way over to check on him, worried lines painting across her forehead.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m fine,” he grimaces while pushing himself up to a seated position. He tries to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. Not the best way to make a good first impression on his neighbors.

“Are you sure, son? We can call for help if you need it. Someone you know, or 9-1-1?” Mr. Martin joins in the conversation.

“No!” TK interjects too quickly, startling both neighbors. He panics for a moment when the weight of the predicament settles in. He meets the gaze of both figures still staring at him, clearly concerned and waiting for him to say something. “I mean, I’m a paramedic. I’m fine. Or I will be fine. Thank you,” he flashes them both a quick smile before pushing himself up off the ground, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from his knee when he tries to put any weight on it.

Getting back up the stairs is no easy feat, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know that both Mr. Martin and Mrs. Bailey are still watching him, concerned. Fortunately, they don’t know him well enough to try and follow or help. He’s not sure he would feel comfortable enough receiving help from some strangers. Half the time he doesn’t even feel comfortable receiving help from the people he does know.

He leans heavily on the railing, refusing to turn around out of fear of further mortification. Once he’s inside the home, he collapses right inside the hall, unable to go any further since his knee decided to stop cooperating.

A few tears pool in his eyes, and he’s unsure if that’s due to the pain or embarrassment. Not knowing what else to do, he takes out his phone and shoots a quick text to Carlos.

TK: we have to move

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for the three dots to pop up before being replaced by Carlos’ response.

Carlos: ???

TK sighs and rubs his face, trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation.

TK: i feel down the stairs out front and all the neighbors saw

Carlos: Holy shit, are you okay??

He lets out a puff of air at that.

TK: you mean besides my bruised ego?

TK: no, i hurt my knee but i’m fine. that’s not the issue here.

Carlos: Okay, I’ll be home in an hour and you can let me be the judge of that. If I see any swelling, we’re going to the doctor.”

He rolls his eyes at Carlos’ worry. At worst, it’s a bad sprain, nothing that can’t be fixed with some icing and wrapping. But there are other things they need to worry about.

TK: you’re missing the point, carlos. the entire neighborhood thinks i’m an idiot. we can’t live here anymore.

TK knows he’s being dramatic, but the more he thinks about it, the more embarrassed he gets. The idea that these are people he’s going to have to continue to face everyday for the foreseeable future. And that now all they’ll be able to think about when they do see him. Now he’ll just be known as the guy who can’t walk down stairs.

Carlos: Relax, TK. I’ll be home soon.

TK: you mean our temporary place of residence which we will soon be moving out of

He doesn’t get a response after that. 

His mind continues to spiral while he waits for Carlos to arrive. He knows the other man is likely climbing the walls trying to leave his shift early but it would still be awhile before he could be allowed to leave.

Left alone with his thoughts, his mind keeps playing out the series of events that happened minutes ago. He can't help but beat himself up over embarrassing himself like that. Ironically enough, it’s not even the first time he’s fallen down stairs, having taken a tumble down the stairs in Carlos’ place a few months back. And of course he would manage to injure himself that time, and this time as well.

He should at least try to get up so he can find an ice pack to lessen the swelling. Sitting on the floor up against the wall can’t be doing his knee any favors. Yet he can’t bring himself to move, instead resting his head back against the wall and sighing.

TK pulls out his phone again, cycling through the apps until he hears the tell-tale keys jingling in the already unlocked door.

As soon as Carlos steps through the door, he nearly trips over TK in the doorway. “Woah, hey! TK, are you okay?” he crouches down to TK’s level.

TK shrugs. Now that he’s face to face with Carlos, he can’t help but feel suffocated by another person judging him, even if Carlos’ worry comes from a place of concern.

“Can I take a look at your knee?”

TK nods, allowing Carlos to gently inspect his swollen joint. He winces as Carlos traces his hand around his kneecap.

“This doesn’t look good, babe. I think we need to go to the hospital.”

“No, it’s fine,” he quickly shakes his head. The worried look in Carlos’ eyes only makes his heart ache, and he can only try to find ways to make it go away. “Just help me up and we can ice it. It will look better once the swelling goes down a bit.”

Carlos gives him a look that screams I don’t believe you but sighs. “Fine, but if it doesn’t…”

“I know, I know. You’ll drag my ass to the emergency room,” TK gives him a reassuring smile.

Carlos returns the smile, and extends a hand to help TK up. TK accepts, and allows Carlos to take on most of his weight once he’s standing. They slowly make their way over to the living room, with Carlos softly depositing TK onto the sofa. He then disappears into the kitchen before returning with an ice pack in hand.

“Thanks,” TK smiles, trying to mask the wince as Carlos places the pack onto his knee.

“Do you want to watch an episode of The Office?” Carlos asks, picking up the remote and settling in the spot next to TK.

TK shrugs, knowing that Carlos is just trying to appeal to him by offering to put on his favorite show. The other man doesn’t even like the show that much, often finding the humor dry and tasteless, but TK thinks he just doesn’t get it.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

There it is.

“I just can’t believe I did that in front of our new neighbors. They probably think I’m an idiot.”

“I’m sure no one thinks you’re an idiot, TK,” Carlos gently reassures him.

“Yeah all the neighbors saw me make an idiot of myself,” TK sighs exasperatedly. “God, how am I supposed to face these people everyday now?”

“Hate to break it to you babe, but this is not a valid reason for us to move.”

“I know,” he sighs again.

“Besides,” Carlos continues. “If your track record has proven anything, it’s that this won’t be the last medical emergency at our new home. It’s good that the neighbors are getting used to it now.”

TK gives him a pointed look.

“I’m pretty sure this is the second time you’ve fallen down the stairs since we’ve started dating,” Carlos says with a light chuckle.

“Whatever,” TK scoffs. “At least the other time it wasn’t in front of total strangers.”

Carlos softens. “That’s true. But I’m sure the neighbors just care about you. I don’t think this is that big of a deal, TK.”

“You weren’t there though. It was mortifying.”

“What did they say, exactly?”

TK nervously looks down. “They asked if I was okay. And if I needed any help.”

Carlos raises his eyebrow, waiting to see if TK continues. 

“They offered to call for help but I said no and went back inside.”

“See? They just care about you TK. I haven’t really talked to anyone yet but they seem like nice people.”

“I guess,” TK shrugs.

“I know, you’re still embarrassed. But if nothing else, they’ll probably forget about it by the next time we see them.”

“You don’t think I’ll be known as the ‘clumsy neighbor who can’t walk down stairs’?”

“Maybe the ‘cute clumsy neighbor that can’t walk down stairs,’” Carlos says with a smirk. “But we could always change that.”

TK cocks his head to the side. 

“You think our new neighbors might enjoy some peach scones when we go over and have a proper introduction?”

“You really plan to charm our new neighbors with your baking?” 

“You think it will work?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then yes, I do,” Carlos grins proudly. He then leans over and gently removes the ice pack from TK’s knee, grimacing at what he sees. “This still looks pretty swollen, babe. I think we need to go to the hospital.”

TK gives him a pained smile. “You sure I can’t talk my way out of this?”

“Nope,” Carlos says, popping the p. He stands up before extending his hand to help TK do the same.

TK accepts, shifting his weight and leaning into Carlos once he’s fully upright. 

“You know, I think you may have a paramedic blindspot when it comes to your own health.”

TK lets out a light laugh. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

A week later, Carlos softly knocks on the door of Mrs. Bailey’s home across the street with one hand and a plate of peach scones in the other. TK had offered to hold the scones but when they went over to Mr. Martin's home earlier in the day, it was quickly discovered it was too difficult for him to manage getting up the stairs and holding the plate.

So he settles for letting Carlos do most of the work while he awkwardly limps up the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing to keep some pressure off his knee.

After their quick trip to the emergency room, it had been determined that TK’s initial assessment was right and it was just a bad sprain. He was given a brace to help reduce the pain and a pair of crutches, which (much to Carlos’ dismay) he abandoned after only two days, citing that they only made it harder to get around their home which he can now say for certain has too many damn stairs.

A problem which seems to follow him as he also has to get up the stairs to greet his neighbors.

“Maybe we should have moved to a neighborhood of single level homes,” he states with a wince as he joins Carlos at the front door.

Carlos snorts. “We can take it into consideration if we ever have to move again.”

“God, please don’t say that. I don’t want to think about moving ever again.”

“Good,” Carlos gives him a soft smile. “Because I’m planning on staying here for the long run.”

“Me too,” TK returns the smile just as Mrs. Bailey opens the door.

“What a lovely surprise!” she exclaims taking in the sight of the two men. 

“Hello ma’am,” Carlos says with a polite smile.

“We brought you some scones,” TK adds, gesturing to the plate in Carlos’ hands.

“Oh how thoughtful of you. Please come in. How are you doing?” she asks, turning to TK. “I’ve been worried.”

He exchanges a look with Carlos, the other man's face clearly saying I told you she cares, before turning back to Mrs. Bailey.

“I’m fine, ma’am. Thank you for asking. It’s just a bad sprain. But I do appreciate your concern, especially the other week.”

“Oh, of course dear,” she says with a warm smile. “Now, you boys aren’t going to make me eat these scones all by myself are you?”

They both let out a light chuckle and exchange another glance before following their new neighbor, and friend inside.

[alaura5675]

Warning contains spoilers for The Owl House Season 2 Episode 5: Through the Looking Glass

I literally cannot stop screaming about Luz and Amity. My sweet beans!

Em and Ed being supportive siblings, and Ed going on a date with them, (all those golden guard fics are gonna definitely increase)

Just the twins and Gus being we’ve been knew to Luz

Also Gus just being his awesome self and gaining a frienemy is just my heart. Its so weak to all this fluff Dana has be giving us

Unfortunately we need to discuss the “first” human. While discovering the Echo mouse records everything they’ve eaten. We have seen a glimpse of the first human who had traveled accidentally to the demon world.

Their name Philip Wittlebane apparently in the 1600s donated his diary to the library.

artfulstar also found this in the teasers

And in animation we don’t believe in coincidences

So at this point i honestly believe that Emperor Belos is this same human and has found a way to live for 400 years. If time is tracked the same

And here’s the big kicker we’ve already noticed a lot of the christian missionary converting the pagan wild witches in the 1st season

But the fact of the matter is the way Wittlebane is dressed and the diary enters are written remind me of first account documents written by European colonizers. And around the 1600s in US history was when Spanish colonizers had already taken large amounts of land in modern day México. And the beginning of English colonizers here In the Modern day US.

And while im not entirely familiar with the indigineous cultures of the Aztecs, Mayan, and Olmecs. There was a strong sense of spirituality in the cultures and people called “Brujas” by the Spanish colonizers, the spanish word for Witch.

And Highly recommend reading Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo Anaya discussing the struggle of catholicsm and the indigenous culture in the early 1900s México.

But my point is the Spanish when they came to the Americas literally destroyed the spiritual and cultural centers of the Aztecs and Mayans and built on top of it catholic churches. And vilified anyone who didn’t practice Catholicism. Queen Isabella and her husband who i can’t remember, married and combined large parts of modern day Spain into one country on the Iberian peninsula . And started the Reconquista, that killed thousands of people who were muslim, as a majority of the peninsula practiced Islam’s beliefs, and Jewish people were killed and was spread to “their” colonies as well. Which gave them big support from the Catholic church at the time.

But where am i going with this, Well a lot of things. One Belos’s castle sorta reminds me of an ornate catholic church, the window glass murals, the gold detailing, and all the robes everyone in the coven wears.

Then there’s the fact that Belos took over the way people practice magic and made it so only he and his followers could do all magic. Which is similar in how the catholic church erased indigenous history, and forced people to speak their own language. And withheld knowledge and created a cast system. And the vilifying of the local religious beliefs and killing witches

And what i want to say is i think Dana Terrace is awesome for creating show discussing the horrible and long last effects colonialism has done to the word and still severely effects the indigenous people around the world.

And the fact of the matter is more shows and stories and actual FUCKING HISTORYbooks need to be showcasing the importance and ongoing consequences effecting people.

I can even give you an example right now, I lived in Hawaii for 10 years. Because my dad wanted to retire here and I was a child so had no choice. And some of you may be going, what living in hawaii must be so fun…

Let me tell you shit, Hawaiians literally need tourism to keep there economy going. Because the US took there means of culture and history to keep cultivating their land and sustain themselves.

The US sends homeless people to Hawaii because the weather conditions are better, however a majority of homeless people here are still native Hawaiians

Their is literal law stating that if you have 25% native blood you are able to gain a home for free. However most people will never see that as Homes are being bought by people like Mark Zuckerberg for millions of dollars. And Retirees who want to live near the beach.

The economy as i said is based in tourism but all the hotel chains are US companies. So none of the money is reinvested in the local population.

As well as that most people here are working at minimum wage will never afford million dollar homes.

And it sucks and i get that people want to come over and visit. But you have to understand not just here but in the mainland US. This land belongs to the indigenous people and that means respecting the land and protecting the culture. And Hawaii is one of the fortunate places where the language is still known. Its in the process of being taught in schools and being revitalized.

But the fact of the matter is today July 10th, 2021. There is a water shortage here in Hawaii due to influx of tourists coming in. It takes a literal month for cargo ships to arrive. And the tourism isn’t gonna stop its the height of the summer.

The Hiltons, Wailea all the hotel groups will be getting the water for there lawns. And everyone here enjoying there trip won’t notice a thing.

The people who live here are gonna suffer…

Anyways sorry for the rant a little upset at the moment. The Owl House is awesome please watch it and yeah…

[indigosprite]

Chrome Callout post.

relax this is just my love hate relationship with chromes writing and potential. spoiler, it ends with all the love... hate is only in the middle. 

My absolute favorite thing in fanfics is Chromes characterization. Like we all know Chrome is completely aware that Mukuro and co need a reoccurring dose of Valium and a therapist willing to do illegal things in order to lower their sadistic points to ”kind of disturbing but tolerable”. Or at least we hope she does even though she proves to us again and again that she’s not phased by it in the slightest and might actually be just as bad. TYL and she’s still running around helping them do god knows what. She follows them on this massacre pridefully, she “believes in” them ( its sweet actually. They’re what she thinks of when Mukuro asks what she believes in and makes a young kokuyo gang.)

In fanfics when people write her to be a double edge sword it’s hilarious, and it should’ve been the character depicted in the Anime and manga instead. But I guess if she hadn’t been the quiet, breathy & compliant 14 year old people wouldn’t have morphed her into the fanon I enjoy now. Here’s some stuff i love and HC abt Chrome  and the things I absolutely hated.  

1. When she actually speaks not just when spoken to. She voices her concerns although she has no intent of not doing what’s asked of her. Who knew she could speak and still be the obedient gang member Mukuro trusts her to be. And when she does this it’s funny. She is the conscience he buries underneath disgust and amusement for chaos, but that’s not her entire character. She’s not reduced to the mom friend either because of this, she’s too passive on the matter. She indulges/Enables it just the same as Chikusa or Ken, although she knows better meanwhile the thought never occurs to them. To summarize :

she’s Brian

2. She’s unhinged and the best part is nobody knows even though it’s blatantly obvious. She may not have the same bloodlust or violent disposition as her peers but there are other ways to showcase this. To Allow Mukuro the leader of this little fearsome Five-some to possess you whenever he feels like and witness whatever horrors he decides to inflict upon someone that day means she’s accepting of literally everything he does. She never resists or expresses distaste/fear for him or anything he does. We assume she would in some capacity because she was depicted as this wide eyed innocent girl trying her best to repay the man that got her to join a gang under the guise of a found family. She quite literally signed up for guts n glory. She knew this and never had second thoughts. Mind you she doesn’t share the same hatred for the mafia as the boys, theirs is blind hatred regardless of who you are. Hers is through them, they are her looking glass rightfully so, so if they say it then their word is law. I’m not sure about you but I would definitely be mindful of the girl who was raised semi normal and willingly turned into a killer for Mukuro of all people. They’re killing adults not shaking them up, they aren’t Tsuna and his friends they finish the job when necessary. The body count is unimaginable. She is just as loyal as Ken and Chikusa and would probably strike you where you stand for speaking ill of him. (She wouldn’t but would definitely be opposed to whatever you’re saying, unless it’s name calling. He takes no offense to that and welcomes it in fact.)

3. The fact that she’s a person apart from Mukuro (physically speaking.) and the Vongola team at all is a blessing in few fics. Although she was made to stand in for Mukuro, when he is released it’s not necessary hence him pushing her to be apart from him and his duties. He did this in the future as well when he possessed Guidio Greco no longer using chrome which lets us know she was successful in becoming a useful comrade and not just a vessel and vongola stand in. She had to otherwise he would’ve left her alone whether she was keeping his Vongola ring warm or not. She is just as aloof as Hibari, always off with her own people only engaging when it’s asked of her. I adore when people keep that in mind and don’t lump her with following behind the vongola as if she were one of them. She shows up for them when asked but her main focus is ultimately committing felonies with Ken and Chikusa per Mukuro’s orders. let her be with the kokuyo gang and let her contribute in the way she’s meant to as a fighter. figure her out give her something cool 

 ik that’s hard considering what we got in the manga. warning things i hate ahead 

what we got in the Anime and Manga: 

so we know Chromes entire purpose was to be Rokudo Mukuro’s stand in, while holding the Vongola ring he soon takes back she is just the girl that is able to get him to come fight their battles when necessary. The Anime and Manga rarely let Chrome fend for herself. We all knew he was coming the second it got serious. By giving chrome that ring she ended up being the one thing to keep him loyal to his contract with being their guardian. If she’s in danger he comes and saves her, the Vongola put her in danger because he will show up and do his job it’s like a rat trap. She is not meant to be a Vongola guardian but more like a Mukuro whistle. They never openly admit it but in the show they will expect/ask her to do things that her track record doesn’t imply she can do and just silently expect Mukuro to show up like always. SKSJDWDN they’ll be like “oh yeah call the girl who passed out and all her organs disappeared I believe in her to do this job even though i’ve never seen her make it to the end of a fight ever not worried at all” sksksjjd They never actually expect chrome to do a job they expect her to go there and manage to get Mukuro to come out and play and we should acknowledge it was just an unspoken thing.  Now I know that despite what I just implied about her not being that great a fighter but just good enough there are two comments made in all 400 chapters that are supposed to negate this.  

Mammon says her illusions are powerful just not enough to fool him , and reborn says she could turn the tide if she were to fight against Mukuro but with confidence, these mean nothing to me because amano throws in so many useless comments like this and then fails to develop it further to make it believable.  and she made powerful characters make note of this so it would be non negotiable and we would just take it at face value because its them but hello ?? ofc we want to see it just like we had to see Tsuna grow before we even considered taking him seriously. hell Dino got a quicker rise to his title than chrome bc its that easy to say oh he can come into his own when needed they just never meant to do it for chrome. 

it’s so irritating when they try to say she’s powerful or could be but give no actual footing for anyone to take those comments seriously when they make her pass out for thirty chapters after doing the bare minimum.

let chrome win on her own not just start strong then step out of the way then have some character say “no really she could be powerful we aren’t going to show you though” .  

when she helped them sneak in the base on her own and even makes those illusions of them fighting we should have gotten more of that!!! 

literally every character is fighting the funeral wreaths and chrome is running in the woods out of breath...even Lambo got to fight. 

you made her sit out of the rep battle to focus on making organs like that wasn’t something she already accomplished in the future and suddenly can’t do anymore ?.....

Chrome finally makes one fighting decision and its to make a mist forcefield that’s dangerous but hell yeah we think she will finally pull through with something powerful and prove herself and then they have mukuro come in a panel later saying “your flames are far too weak to do that I will make it better and help you not die” BYE  that was a perfect time to have her come in to her own seeing as she was powerful and confident enough to initiate it in the first place. 

breaking the barrier daemon spade makes * chefs kiss * give me more 

 when they’re not blindly robbing chrome of character development  she’s just getting kidnapped, passing out  or helping them with small things like making a fake Yamamoto for a party or sneaking in the base with illusions to disguise them. Hello she’s training under mukuro right ??? why did we ever get to see her get stronger each fight and have them say ‘she’s learning quick” instead. 

enough abt what we got, back to what I’ve managed to make out of the scraps we were given..

4. Mukuro is the only one who reassures that she actually is a fighter and she eventually grows to be a good one bc of this and you should write about that dynamic and why it exists more. this one is long.

 the whole dynamic I was referring to exploring is the one where Mukuro and chrome are meant to be equals. He meets this girl whose been neglected and left for dead, another kid messed up by adults neglectful selfish behavior. she willingly follows the boy who is plagued by the same demons and made a small group dedicated to getting revenge for it.  Mukuro & Chrome know they’re two sides of the same coin. he is anger and she is acceptance. He probably finds it amusing she isn’t as angry as them wants to draw it out of her  where as chrome wants to pull out the peace that comes with moving on once you’re in a better place. the girl is so happy to not be near her mom and grateful for this little family while the boys are quite literally holding a grudge against the world.  and like none of them even see it the way she does but she wants them to.  Mukuro and chrome didn’t go through the same things but it doesn’t matter to either of them because its the same story, nobody loved or valued them enough to protect them. In the end chrome will learn to be angry abt things that happen and use that to find a will to fight for something and Mukuro will learn to be at peace because they’re not in that lab anymore and those people are gone from their life. as fighters they’re so important to each others balance Mukuro’s rage cannot be left to be so blind and hers unattended and i know it’s supposed to be Tsuna that cleans his soul but i think chrome definitely plays a more active role in that.  I think he sees a better him in her, he makes her his second gives her his name because she’s the good he knows he can never fully be. she posses a peace he’s not hopeful enough to believe he can achieve or want and ultimately it will make her far more capable of the change he wants. in believing this it means he also believes she will be just as powerful as him with the right training. he’s literally training his demise and her name is Chrome. he wont take over a (mafia) world he wants her to save.  we all know he’s like annoyingly stupid when it comes to showing his emotions, he rather pretend he’s sending you to die when he’s quite literally ushering you to what he thinks is safe and sacrificing himself. so I can totally see him being like  “okay Tsuna might really change the mafia and I want to see that but I've already dug my own grave here's a better newer me that will be way easier to accept than me turning over a new leaf 40 dead families later.” 

5. in the future Hibari is much more happy to help and be around because he knows what a powerful fighter Tsuna turns out to be, i think this is the exact same reason why he goes and helps chrome save herself. Kyoya knows and possibly even respects future chrome enough to save her when she’s at her weakest which he usually detests. Chrome grows to be much more in the future and that’s exactly why he even gives this sick chrome a push. everyone likes to think it’s a Mukuro thing for him but what if it actually is a chrome thing. in the show he’s never been present to witness her show any kind of power so we can only assume that at some point he saw her in action. 

  6. it’s implied in the future that Mukuro fights alongside her, he views her as more than just a vessel and doesn’t baby her in the slightest when he pushes her to become her own being. I won’t call it respect per say but he doesn’t look at her as a doll even though that’s the part she played for him. He still trains her the way he eventually does Fran. We all know he just wants Mini Mukuros to aid him in his endeavors but the fact that he chooses her says a lot about how she’s meant to be viewed. He also chooses a nine year old brat with an apple hat but hey he must see something everyone else doesn’t until he’s done with them seeing as Fran was kidnapped by the freaking Varia once Mukuro’s teachings were for the most part implemented. “Oh you learned under Mukuro ? We can’t have Mukuro you need to join us immediately” (I’ve just realized Mukuro gave the vongola their strongest mist guardians all while claiming to hate them. Funny man). imagine how powerful Chrome gets, even better when Mukuro is actually there in the flesh to teach her where as Fran got some illusionary version of him. WRITE ABOUT IT. 

7. for the love of god give that girl her own fighting style. yamamoto has his sword gokudera is literally baby genius ryohei is a boxer and hibari has like the most random weapon ever. go crazy. i love it when chrome isn’t pulling a trident from her bag. because she’s not mukuro anymore. she’s a reticent mist guardian, compliment that.  Mukuros trident has his own history with him. give her some history of her own.    

in my fic Chrome uses a scythe and tears through reality with it. 

reason:  because she is a grim reaper in her own right. she rose from the dead and is showing up to collect the souls of the wicked. a silent but fearsome person. 

her style ? :  personally I like to believe chrome dabbles in profiling, hear me out. Her parents were neglectful and in turn she really has little experience with relationships in general, i think her curiosity would lead her to constantly study peoples relationships and behaviors and see how they affect her target. aka she fights by showing up getting in your head and haunting you with your own past because even if they see through it damn what a nasty wound or insecurity to bring up in the form of a hell loop illusion. this also ties into her being Mukuro 2.0 he’s known to just be eerily in the know of everything going on even when he’s not there. this would be a great way of her matching that aspect of him and possibly surpassing it.  

[allsassnoclass]

Hello everyone!  Today is the one year anniversary of my favorite fic I’ve written (so far), Puzzle Pieces!  I thought I’d give a full length director’s commentary to commemorate the occasion.

Spoilers for the fic below!

The idea for this fic stemmed from a few things.  I’ve always been fascinated with the idea of a soulmate au where colors appear on your skin when you first touch your soulmate(s).  I think I initially encountered this in a newsies fic that I’ve since lost track of that was heavily focused on platonic soulmates.  I liked this convention because the possibilities for multiple soulmates are endless and I like the idea of colorful splotches on people.  I also think that identifying soulmates via touch rather than the first sentence they say or some sort of other identifier gives a lot of opportunity for relationships to grow and develop before they know that they’re soulmates.  I am always a little bothered when soulmate aus have people fall right into a relationship and kissing and intense emotions right away when the two people don’t know anything about each other.  This seemed like a way to combat that a little, but I’ll speak more on that later.

The Beginnings

The first record I have of this fic is a message I sent to Helen on May 8, 2020.  The fic was very much only in the idea stages then, as I took over three more months to write it and wrote Too Close to See during that time.  A google doc for the fic wasn’t started until July 20, 2020, and it was titled “soulmate colors au.”  My method for writing is going in order these days, and for this particular fic there wasn’t a specific scene that I started with in mind.  I really was just going or it and making it up as I went, chugging along and seeing what happened.

The Colors

A pretty significant part of this fic is the colors.  When I figured out that colors would appear on people when they touched, I knew that figuring out who had what color would be very important.  Initially I was going to have each pairing have their own color (so for example cashton would both leave blue on each other but malum would both leave green on each other) but I quickly decided that I didn’t like that and that each individual should have a color that they leave, instead.  I sent a message to Bella asking what colors she thought the boys would be, but I can’t find that message anymore and know that while it was similar it wasn’t quite right.  Here’s some reasoning behind each of the boys’ colors:

Michael: I went with red not just because of the iconic red hair, but because it’s a pretty loud and brash color.  Michael (especially when he was younger) doesn’t really filter things, wears a decent amount of his personality on his sleeve, and first reaction that said red to me

Calum: Calum has always been forest green.  This is partially influenced by the empahty hoodie, even though it’s a bit brighter than the green in my mind for him here, but I also think green is a very dependable, stable color.  (I used that color symbolism in one of my fall out boy fics years ago lol) It reminds me of pine trees, and I think Calum can give off that same sense of reliability in weathering the seasons.  It’s a quieter color but can really pop next to another one.  It also worked out nicely that Calum and Michael’s colors were compliments

Luke: Luke gets gold because he is a sunshine boy!  Luke actually was the person I had the most trouble with, because I was flipping between gold, a lighter blue, or pink.  Pink ultimately was too close to red to make me be able to visualize what the marks looked like on each boy to my satisfaction.  It just looked ugly and clashing.  I went with gold because there is a lot of outward brightness in Luke.  He’s the kind of person where if he’s happy everyone else gets a bit happier, and gold also seemed fitting for the eventual shift into a rockstar and the amount of talent he has

Ashton: Ashton gets purple, but a deeper purple.  Dynamic but still relatively stable, has a lot of depth.  Purple is a secret color, but it’s still beautiful and it draws people in.  When I visualize it it ends up being a really dark shade, but in reality he’s probably more of a royal purple than a plum purple.  I feel bizarrely passionate about his color specifically.  I don’t know why that is.

The colors didn’t have any sort of influence on the fic, but they were deliberately chosen.

The World of the Fic: Chosen Soulmates

So here’s the thing.  I feel very strongly about love being a conscious decision that people make over and over.  It takes work.  It takes a deliberate commitment.

Soulmate aus kind of negate that.

So, how do you fix this?  Well, I did that by having these marks not necessarily indicate soulmates.  The way that the marks are described in the fic is that they indicate how easy it should be to love someone and how compatible two people are.  It doesn’t automatically mean that you’ll adore them forever and never leave their side.  You still need to put in the work.  (Luke shows this early on when Michael asks if he loves Calum and he says  “I don’t think I know him well enough for that yet.  I know I will, because the colors say it should be easy and I want to, but not like you do.”  He has made the decision to work toward loving Calum, but he knows that just having the colors doesn’t immediately make them love each other.)  In that way, it almost isn’t a soulmate au, at least not in the traditional way.  Things aren’t inevitable.  There is still an element of choice.

This was also shown with Ashton.  I don’t remember when I made the decision to give Ashton a Tragic Background with his dad, but I know it was relatively early because by the time I wrote his introduction I knew that would happen.  I wanted to give a bit more of a reason for his hesitation to let them touch him, which I was already including because Ashton has always been the least touchy of the band, and I saw this as another opportunity to show that necessity of choice.  It’s sweeter to me for the boys to choose each other rather than to just be stuck with each other, and if Ashton hadn’t actually been a soulmate of theirs then I wanted there to be the assurance that they could still love him just as much, because all love is chosen.

In the end, having a broken soulbond in Ashton’s past was a good way to accomplish all of that.  It’s heartbreaking to not be chosen despite the fact that it should be easy, but once Ashton accepts that Michael, Calum, and Luke are vehemently choosing him with or without the soulmark, it makes his acceptance of their love very sweet to me.  He’s saying that he trusts them to put in the work to love him.  The scene where he talks to Michael in the car and the scene where he accepts their touches and soulmarks are probably my two favorite scenes in the fic.

The World of the Fic: Touch

In a world where the first skin-on-skin contact can indicate whether it’ll be extremely easy for you to love someone, how common would touch be?  Would we greet people with handshakes still?  Would gloves be more common fashion accessories?  Would touching someone be a Big Deal?

Hence, the First Touch was born!

I figured that, with touch possibly being a lot more significant in this world, people would be a lot more careful about whether they make skin-on-skin contact.  Kids would be taught that it’s impolite to try to touch someone, to a more extreme degree than they are now.  Handshakes simply are not a greeting anymore.  Instead, sometimes the first contact people make is considered a big deal, seeing as it can indicate whether two people are soulmates or not.

I figured that Luke especially would enjoy important first touches, because he’s a sentimental sweetie.  Of course, his first touch with Michael ended up being special simply because it was with each other :)

This also let me really lean into Ashton being touch-adverse.  Now on top of not liking touch, he also has another reason to avoid it, which makes every cuddle moment after the first touch even better, because he’s definitely touch starved.  The band cuddles him so much once they share the colors.

The World of the Fic: Platonic Soulmates

Guys. GUYS. I love platonic soulmates. I love them a lot.  I feel very passionately about them.  Romantic love is not the pinnacle of human love, and as someone who cannot at this point see myself with a romantic partner I really wanted to ensure that platonic soulmates were a thing.  Given that information, it’s a no-brainer that I included them in this fic.  Part of the appeal of this type of soulmate au was that it gave opportunity for more than one soulmate and more than one type of soulmate.  As such, platonic, familial, and romantic soulmates could all be indicated by the colors.  I also really liked that there wasn’t any sort of differentiation between the types of soulmates.  One type of love isn’t hailed over the others.  It’s an even playing field here.

That was one of the things that immediately drew me to this type of prompt, actually.  I wanted to write a fic about Michael parsing through his emotions and figuring out what he feels for Calum.  The difference between platonic and romantic love has always been very interesting to me, because I find that the line can be pretty blurry personally.  The best way to do that was to give him a set of soulmates who he cares about equally but in different ways.  

The following excerpt really is the theme of the story to me:  “Calum is an old, comfortable sweater, but Luke is like a favorite pair of shoes.  They both fit him perfectly.  He feels more at home when either of them are around, and although the love he has for Calum is different, he thinks he could love Luke just as much.”  Each of us love everyone we meet a little differently, because everyone is a different person, but different doesn’t mean unequal.

While the fic is about Michael figuring himself out, it’s equally a love story between all four of them.  The moments where Michael finds out he’s soulmates with Luke and Ashton were just as important to me as the moment he and Calum get together, and I really wanted to be sure that each relationship had it’s time in the limelight.  That’s ultimately why the idea of puzzle pieces became a theme (that I added on editing).  I like the idea of all of them coming together to create something bigger than themselves.  They fit.  They click.  They are better for it.  The first time someone referred to this as an ot4 fic it threw me off, because only malum is romantic in it, but I really like that classification for it, because it is.

Asexual Representation (Accidentally)

I didn’t know I was writing Michael as ace until about 4 days before I posted the fic.

Looking back, that’s a little bit ridiculous, because I was brainstorming this fic for three and a half months and actively writing it for two before I realized.  I believe there was a conversation in the discord about ace rep in fics (Bella and I think Heath were part of it, I can’t remember any other participants), and I thought to myself “hey I’m ace and like ace rep, Michael in the soulmate colors au could probably be ace.”  Lo and behold, he already was.  All I had to do was add a few sentences and finish the fic (I hadn’t written the scenes in England yet).

My asexuality definitely influenced the way I had been writing Michael’s confusion over his feelings for Calum.  Part of the reason I myself see the line between platonic and romantic as so blurry is because I’m ace and so much of romantic love in media is tied in with sexual attraction.  When you don’t feel sexual attraction, that can get confusing, especially since most strong feelings of love are depicted to be romantic.

While Michael and I had very, very different paths to figuring out our sexualities, I drew on my own experiences of ace-ness to write him.  This was a bit more apparent in the sequel scene Bedroom Activities, but it ended up becoming a core of the story.  I genuinely don’t know how I didn’t realize that’s what I was writing.

As an ace person, ace rep means a lot to me, given how little of it is in popular media.  I’m glad I explored it so early on in my 5sos fic career, and I’m proud of this one.

Miscellaneous Things

The process of writing this story was, as I stated before, pretty linear.  I went from the start to the end without a lot of planning.  I specifically had no clue what was happening at the Hot Chelle Rae afterparty until it was happening.  The kiss came out of no where.  However, I want to point out that initially I thought this fic would be 8k.  It is now my third longest fic ever written.  I have never learned to correctly estimate how long a fic I’m writing will be.

I have a few various favorite lines, but one repeated theme I love is Michael craving Calum’s touch.  I say he’s touch-starved for him twice, once relatively early on and once at the end, and I love that Calum’s touch has been a constant for Michael.  They had their first touch accidentally and became best friends immediately in the way that little kids do, so Michael has always had him as a constant, tactile presence in his life.  That’s why losing him to Luke scared him so much and why then gaining Luke and Ashton as soulmates is so good for him.

I really like referring to Michael, Luke, and Calum as a triangle.  I first did it in this fic, but it’s now my tag for the three of them.  Idk I just like how equally distributed a triangle is, all sides touching, no one left out.

Branching off of this, one of my favorite lines is when Ashton and Michael do their first touch: “The dark purple reminds him of spilling grape juice on his clothes as a kid, and when he collapses into Ashton he feels like they could have known each other at that age, too.”  There is something so charming about meeting someone later and feeling like you’ve known them your whole life, and that was significant here because Michael has known Calum and Luke since they were younger (although Luke did come in the picture when they were tweens/young teens instead of kids).  I wanted to be sure that although Michael, Calum, and Luke are the triangle, Ashton is an equal part of their soulmate group.  He doesn’t have the same history, but that doesn’t matter because it feels like he does.

Luke’s obsession with soulmate statistics is a convenient plot device and partially a result of his mom being a math teacher.  Above all things, it’s a manifestation of his desire to be loved.  The guy just wants to be loved!!! and he wants others to be loved, too!!!

This is by far my favorite fic that I’ve written.  It’s not perfect (there are for sure two lines that I would change, and I think I could’ve done things differently with the very slight OCD I gave Michael that manifested in his hand washing), but I love it dearly.  It’s the type of fic that I would’ve loved to read, and the response to it has been wonderful.  Thank you to everyone who has read it and special shout out to everyone who has made it to the end of this very long director’s notes <3

[infinitestarsintheskye]

The Lady and the Chauffeur Name Thing

So at the end of my LAST installment of my FS Downton Abbey AU, Christmas at the Abbey, I promised that if ONE person wanted an explanation of the many new names that popped up I would write it. Well many weeks ago now the lovely @valentinaonthemoon asked for such a list, and I am a woman of my word, even if I completely forgot about and only remembered about it just now. I’m going to pop it under a read more bc it is going to get LONG  and also contain ALL OF THE SPOILERS for that series. 

OKAY SO

We’ll do this in birth order I think. Nicknames are in () 

Eilidh May FitzSimmons, born December 12th 1919 - The first of the many babies!! As many of you will know if you have been following me for a while, Eilidh May was, pre-finale of course, my utter ride or die name for baby girl Fitzsimmons. I think I have like three or four fics with this particular name in it, I loved it so much. Eilidh is the Scottish variation of Helen, and means sun-ray, which ugh wouldn’t that just be so perfect for a little FitzSimmons baby. I was just utterly in love with the idea of FS giving their baby a Scottish name (as you will see in the NEXT FS baby) and the fact that this had a space/star/sun/celestial twist to it just absolutely SOLD IT for me. I should add, for all my non-scottish followers that Eilidh is pronounced Ay-Lee. I have no idea how gaelic pronunciation works, I just know how to say it.  Her middle name, May, doesn’t need much explanation. I just loved the idea of them giving their little girl a middle name after someone on the team. 

George (Georgie) Lincoln Campbell, born 2nd October 1921 - Okay ngl, I got real lazy with this name. Mary and Matthew’s (who Daisy and Lincoln were in the place of in this fic) son was also named George, and I liked it, I thought it would be cute if he was called Georgie, as a bit of a variation. His middle name comes from his father, obvi, who, in keeping with BOTH canons (the noise I made when I figured out I could do that I swear. I’m so sorry Lincoln it was just far too good an opportunity to pass up), I killed off on the day he was born. My apologies. 

Hamish Phillip FitzSimmons, born 6th January 1922 - Oh this name. A lot of people REALLY don’t like this name, which is fine. As I said with Eilidh, I was really on a kick of giving FS babies Scottish names. I originally dismissed Hamish, and it just wouldn’t leave me alone, and just utterly grew on me. I actually went to school with a Hamish, he was a fair few years below me and he was just the tiniest, most adorable little toot! From what I can gather, Hamish is an anglicised version of Seamus or Seumus, which is the gaelic version of James, which is a very long and roundabout way of honouring Fitz’s middle name, but I still love having that connection. The middle name, Phillip, again, this name was a love of mine before this fic came about and it just seemed so natural to me that they would name their son after Coulson, and there was just no other name I liked so much with Hamish 

 Kathleen (Kathy) Skye FitzSimmons, born 30th May 1925 - I have no really grand explanation for this name, other than Kathleen is a special name to me, and I love using it in stories. It fit in well I thought with the 1920′s style of naming (yes I did that extensive googling) and as I say it is a very dear name to me and FitzSimmons are deserving of it. Skye, again, I’m just going through the checklist of names from the team. This was in NO WAY  a narcissistic naming, I promise, I just really think they’d give their child that as a middle name, as also this was my way of slipping a lil bit of Scottish into her name too. Just a smidge :)

 Hazel June Sousa, born 14th October 1926 - Oh Hazel. Hazel is just a name I really love. It is also the name of a dear friend of mine who I don’t get to see very often, and I just love it. Honestly I was just trying to find names that worked with the last name Sousa and Hazel just popped into my head. Again it works with 1920′s naming trends, (again with the googling) and yeah I just really love it. The middle name June comes from the fact that in this fic, Daisy and Sousa get married in the month of June. I thought that was a nice way of honouring their relationship, through their daughters name :)

Finley (Flint) Alphonso Mackenzie, born 28th May 1927 - So Mack and Elena adopting Flint is basically canon isn’t it??!?!? He is their son I will have no arguments. SO finding a name that Flint would work for as a nickname, bc lets be real no one was naming their child Flint in 1926, I had to find a roundabout way, was NOT EASY. I still have no idea how Flint could come from Finley, but it is close enough to make sense. By the time I got to Flint I had already named five children and was getting a bit lazy, and so his middle name is just the same as his fathers first name, which is still a very common middle name tactic. 

Emily Lorna FitzSimmons, born 12th October 1927 - Again, by the time I got to poor little Emily, I had named six children already. Emily I just like. Every Emily I have ever met has honestly been the nicest and sweetest person I have ever known. It has a good track record for me and it just sounds so nice with Fitzsimmons. Lorna, Lorna comes from my own personal headcanon for Fitz’s mum’s name, and so I think that’s where Lorna comes from, as a way of honouring Fitz’s mum.  It is also believed to derive from the name of the Scottish town Lorne, so snuck another bit of Scotland into baby FitzSimmons’s name :) 

Arthur (Archie) James FitzSimmons, born 14th August 1929 - If you all cast your minds back, at the very start of the Lady and the Chauffeur, I named Jemma’s dad, Lord Shieldshire, Arthur Simmons. So this was my way of honouring dear old Donk, but they call him Archie, just so he’s his own wee man. James, again, got a bit lazy, same middle name as Fitz. Also v Scottish name, we are 5/5 for Scottish baby FitzSimmons :)

Eve Margaret Sousa, born December 24th 1929 - Eve, well, she was born on Christmas Eve. I cast around for ages trying to find Christmasy names. She was Robyn for a little while, I considered Noel, but that felt a little too contemporary, so she was Eve! And yes, Margaret is my little wink to Agent Carter. I couldn’t help myself. 

Violet Faith Mackenzie, born 6th April 1930 - I actually had a lot of fun finding this name. I briefly considered calling her Hope, but no, that felt a little too on the nose for me. The name Violet comes from obviously the little purple flower, but the flower itself means hope, which I liked. Out of the three surnames, I feel like Mackenzie is the easiest out of all of them to find names for, (maybe it’s because I’m Scottish and know a fair few people with that Mac/Mc sound at the start of their surname) and I played around with a few possibilities, but honestly I just fell in love with Violet. Faith comes from the fact that faith is very important to both Mack and Elena and I wanted to consider that and honour that in the naming of their little girl. 

 Edward (Teddy) Donald FitzSimmons, born December 1st 1932 - The last (for real this time) little FitzSimmons baby of this verse. Blame Fitz being forever broody and Jemma just loving their babies so much, and also being an easy burst when it comes to Fitz and their babies. This name, boy oh boy, this name was HARD. Girls names for FitzSimmons babies, for some reason, easy as pie for me, I have a list as long as my arm of girls names I love for them. As for boys names, Hamish is the only one that has really stuck long term for me. All of the names I found for this poor wee boy that I liked were just a bit too modern, so I had to go searching again. I saw Edward, realised it could be shortened to Teddy and fell in LOVE. Only in this verse would I really get away with calling a baby Teddy so I took the chance and ran with it, and now little dark haired blue eyed Teddy FitzSimmons runs around rent free in my brain. His middle name, is not really obvious why I chose it at first glance. Again I struggled. I couldn’t really find any more Scottish names that I liked, or at least ones that i could give poor Simmons a fighting chance of pronouncing properly (Lachlan is still on my list and I have NEVER heard anyone not Scottish pronounce that first syllable properly). So Scottish was out, and so I went to my next mainstain of family names. And Deke or Enoch were the only two male names I hadn’t touched. Enoch was going to be impossible to find a link (trust me I tried) but DEKE, comes from a common nickname for Donald. So Donald he was. 

I hope you enjoyed this little (haha) list! I just love putting thought and meaning into names, and this kind of gives you a little glimpse into my naming process. Yes I know I will be a nightmare if I ever have children. That is a whole SEPARATE and ever changing and evolving list. 

[dreadnought-dear-captain]

You Asked, I Told

(Note, if this post shows up twice or massively delayed or just looks weird, it’s because it was flagged for adult content [??!] because I had a picture of Willem Dafoe’s face in a gif. I am not even kidding. Do with that information what you will. I’ve removed it and I still don’t know if/when this can be publicly viewed, I’m kind of lolling. So if you see a blocked out photo that looks like porn in your post, I swear it’s just a gif from The Lighthouse!)

Hello, amazing people. This weekend, I’m putting the final touches on my last draft of Baghdad Waltz Chapter 39, which will then go to the beta for one more round of edits. I imagine I will have the chapter posted in 1-3 weeks, which is close to record speed for me, especially since it’s around 30k words. I’m going to be talking about my writing process (at unfortunate length) for one of the asks, for those who are interested. 

Please forgive me. I’m feeling quite verbose and a little squirrely. I blame living alone during lockdown. 

It’s also Memorial Day weekend in the States, which is when we are meant to honor those who gave their lives in military service to this country. This is often confused with Veterans Day (November 11), which is honoring anyone who has served in the military and is no longer serving. This gets further confused with Armed Forces Day (rotating date, May) which is to honor those currently serving in the military. I know, super confusing. 

There’s a wide range of opinions on how Memorial Day should be commemorated, which often involves gathering with friends and family for a barbecue or some other social activity. It’s the first major holiday after a huge holiday drought throughout the late winter and spring, which often makes people look forward to it immensely. Some people feel it’s inappropriate to celebrate Memorial Day with barbecues and fond social gatherings because it’s dishonoring the memories of those who can’t be here, people don’t take time to remember those who have died, people have no idea what the day is actually for, etc. Others, even some very vocal veterans, maintain that people died so that we could be here to celebrate in freedom, so why not relish this life we have? Many offer the caveat that it’s appropriate to at least acknowledge the purpose of the day, even if it’s just in a few minutes of quiet reflection. 

Anyway, I offer this as a little food for thought for this upcoming long weekend. 

(And in case you missed it, I posted a BW Timeline for your reference.) 

Contains spoilers through Chapter 38.

[Takes deep breath]

I’m so glad that you are enjoying the read and that you’re finding it inspiring for your own work. I think my dedication to research for BW is threefold. 1) As this story evolved, I decided that I wanted to create the most realistic depictions of military, civilian, emotional, and physical life that I reasonably could. I will fully admit to lapses in this, deliberate and unintentional, because sometimes the plot just needs to go and I can’t wait around for a year-long medical discharge process for my character. 2) I’m in an academically stringent occupation, and because research is such a prominent part of my work life, it’s bled to my hobby. (IS THIS EVEN A HOBBY ANYMORE?) And 3) I get very easily and passionately obsessed with things and delight in getting “into the weeds” with a subject. Almost every research divergence usually takes me off track for at least an hour. And you will never catch me without an MTA subway map open in at least one tab.

But that wasn’t even your question! Sorry. Are you beginning to get a sense of why BW takes me so long to write?? I cannot keep my shit on track. As for the bibliography, YES! I plan to include that in my author’s note at the end. I wish I had kept better track of all of my works consulted over the past three years, but I will definitely discuss the importance of some of the main ones. I’m so thrilled that you are interested, and I’m excited to share them!

Thank you. This is such a kind thing to say, and I’m humbled and delighted to hear it, especially because our fandom is so blessed with some AMAZING fics. And asks certainly don’t have to be questions! I appreciate them all (except the flaming bag of dog shit ones, which I haven’t had in a while, hooray).

(Re: Chapter 37) Good question! I imagine Claire would want to keep the 1:1 conversation somewhat limited, as she is treating the couple as a patient rather than them as individuals. If anything, she might have somewhat superficially checked in to see if he was okay rather than dive into anything regarding the relationship with Bucky not around. That could be seen as a betrayal of trust to Bucky and could be interpreted as favoritism, which Steve craves and which Bucky is probably terrified about.

I am always pleased when people re-read and enjoy it or get new things out of it, even if it’s sometimes a re-read is a function of my slow-ass writing. I really want a story with good re-read value.

You make an excellent point about Bucky’s relationships. His friendship with Jack also had no real closure. Sometimes this is a factor of circumstance and sometimes it’s because of his avoidance, like a self-fulfilling prophesy almost. He’s learned that people betray you, either by hurting you or dying, so he creates conditions sometimes (often unwittingly) for things to go sour and end poorly, or he will simply make himself disappear so that he’s not hurt and doesn’t have to wait to see if he will be abandoned or betrayed. He’s not a guy who is good with goodbyes.

As for Thor, I totally see how it would read that way. I think Thor started out fishing for longer-term possibilities in a romantic relationship but then realized Bucky is really not a guy who is comfortable settling (which, as we can see, is true). As for why it seems more serious, one thing is that Thor still wanted Bucky in his life as a friend, possibly one with benefits. They have a lot in common, and it’s hard for veterans - and, more specifically, special operators - to find people in their lives they can relate to with these very intense life experiences. I wanted this to be a real relationship, but maybe not necessarily one that was bound to become a RELATIONSHIP. I think Bucky was very intriguing and attractive to him, and he very well may have struggled with his own vacillation between whether to take it seriously or whether to remain friends+. This can lead to mixed messages.

And we also have to remember Bucky’s notoriously unreliable narration, where he will see what he wants to see. Our perspective comes from him. We see the details he zooms in on, miss the one he ignores, view the relationship through the lens of his own contentious desire for a real relationship, even as he consistently demonstrates the lack of capacity and his fear about getting serious. I imagine Bucky has having an extremely poor ability to distinguish friendship from romance, and why wouldn’t he, given the most recent bit of history we have learned about him with Jack? He’s had a series of friendships become sexualized, and I think this affects his capacity to be discerning. Bucky’s radar for relating, whether friendships, romance, or potentially dangerous sexual situations, is terribly mis-calibrated. How confusing for him and for the people in his life. Of course, everyone is free to interpret the dynamics of any relationship however they choose. These are just some of my thoughts.

I really appreciate observations from the re-read! Thank you!

I watched the video and you are right! This is definitely a Bucky song. Bucky’s sense of self is by turns profoundly distorted and lacking in grounding, especially now that he’s not in the military. He’s been in a low key existential crisis since he was a kid and has turned to drinking and sex and war to fill this horrible void, and although I can’t speak for what the artists here intended, I certainly sensed those elements here for sure. (Also, what an interesting choice for a music video…)

Thank you for sharing! I’ll add it to the unofficial BW playlist in the author’s note, which consists of various songs people have associated with BW and shared with me.

Good question! I started off this story picturing the actors who represent the characters in the MCU, because I figured we’d be picturing that when we read the fic anyway (though my beta told me she doesn’t see them as the actors, more like artists’ renderings of the characters, which I find interesting). So when describing their physicality, I tend to refer back to the MCU, since this is technically an MCU AU. But the longer I go with the story, the murkier the resemblance feels to me, especially when I think about Bucky, IDK why. I have also been considering doing something more with BW after I finish it (i.e., converting it into a proper not-bajillion-word novel, sunk cost and whatnot), in which case I would definitely change the characters’ appearance, names, cut MCU Easter eggs, etc. So when I try to think of who these people might be in future iterations of the story, things get even more blurred in my mind when I imagine them.

I wonder how other people see them??

So, with regards to PTSD clinical teams, there is some variation across VAs in the system. Some focus more on military-related trauma, whether it’s war, military sexual trauma, accidents, etc. as a way of concentrating their services and managing supply and demand. From talking with providers in these kinds of systems, sometimes you just NEED a military-related trauma, but you can be treated for, say, a childhood trauma if it’s more pressing. Other VAs are very open in their criteria, and you can see them for pretty much any kind of trauma that qualifies diagnostically for PTSD (or sub-threshold PTSD) without question. That’s why I love the expression “If you’ve been to one VA, you’ve been to one VA.” That said, it kind of doesn’t matter what kind of PTSD clinical team is at the VA in Manhattan, because Bucky has so much military trauma that he would very likely qualify to receive services in any PTSD clinical team. They just might focus on childhood stuff (if Bucky actually let them, which is another matter entirely).

This is a great question! Thanks for asking.

I love a snarky asshole Bucky so much, and I’ve tried to temper this version of him with enough hard-earned genuineness to offset it a little bit. It’s such a tender balance with him, because if you back him too far into a corner, he’s going to let you have it. But if you give him too much space, it’s hard to pin him down and wring something honest from him. He’s definitely learned to use humor and sarcasm to deflect from painful or uncomfortable situations, and it’s a very adaptive short-term strategy that makes him both endearing and infuriating to others.

But ugh, yeah, shit gets so rough around Chapter 28/29. I don’t know how to feel when people have really strong emotional reactions to this story, because one part of me doesn’t want to contribute to the crappy feelings people may already be struggling with — especially in the times of COVID — but I don’t want to be afraid to dive into the hurt these characters are experiencing. That’s why I recommend checking in with oneself before reading to get a sense of how much emotional bandwidth is available to manage the immense problems of two people struggling so much. I also think that for some people it can be cathartic or otherwise not-bad maybe (?), based on the feedback I’ve received. I also really try hard to balance out the painful stuff with growth, even though it can be terribly difficult to locate sometimes.

In comments to folks, and here, I often talk about adjusting the ticks on your measuring stick for progress, where instead of leaps of progress over feet/meters, we may be observing things on an inch/mm scale. This story is my most sincere effort at a “recovery is not linear” narrative, which I think is so much more reflective of real life for a lot of folks than a straight upward trajectory. Humans are such creatures of habit, and the lessons these characters have learned through their lives about themselves, trust, relationships, and how to manage emotions are very deeply ingrained — often through traumatic means. These are the lessons learned the hardest, with the greatest perceived consequences for change, and it takes real courage for us to be able to try new things even once, let alone to establish a reliable pattern of behavior. This can lead to a lot of frustration for us as readers/writer, and I come from a place of this being okay, because we are encountering a parallel process with the characters, who are frustrated with each other and themselves about the same things. I do hope the pain/progress/joy ratios are not horribly out of whack most of the time. That’s another reason I like long chapters, because if this was just blips of sometimes terrible episodes in shorter form, I think it would be very challenging to not lose hope entirely.

But I’m so glad you’re finding the read meaningful, even if it’s sometimes painful and difficult.

(YES.)

And FINALLY -- (this is all soooo long, I’m so sorry.)

Oh, thank you for this question! My spreadsheet ended up getting too difficult to manage, and I actually had a small crisis six months ago about how the fic was going to end, because it just didn’t feel right. I had to scrap it and go back to the drawing board and really ask myself - what would these characters really do? Naturally, as a factor of their psychologies and circumstances, how will they bring this story to an end? Some advice I once heard about a “satisfying” ending is that it’s the place where there’s simply nothing more to say about the characters. There’s no more story to tell. I had to abandon all of my desires  and ideas for a particular ending or concerns about making people sad or happy or excited or disappointed. I know that the only ending that will be satisfying is one that makes sense for these people. Anything contrived or backward-engineer-y wouldn’t feel right to anyone. I do have a couple of specific character arc things I want to happen, so I set those down as touchstones and said, okay, what would happen next? What would Steve do with this? And what would Bucky do with this? And what would they do with the thing the other person did? I take a very psychology and prior-behavior-based approach to plotting, almost all character driven. The rest is just figuring out what is supposed to go where and how to organize it.

I’ve converted everything to a Google Doc and have a very basic outline where I write plotty-plot stuff. I also have a “garbage dump” doc where I write certain lines I want to use or certain details I want to include somewhere. When I get into a new chapter, I’ll check the dump doc as I outline and write to see if I want to pluck anything from there. I have my outline open regularly to add to it. Sometimes I write scenes out of order, dialogue first, but that’s only if I really am excited about a particular scene and cannot contain myself. Otherwise, I write completely chronologically and have no buffer. I post things as soon as I write them.

As for your specific questions, I do have a “process” for getting into my characters’ heads. It helps to know them so very well and to have a firm sense of their idiosyncrasies and patterns of behavior. As you may have noticed, they repeat their patterns all. the. time, as humans do, but I also want to have them change their behaviors a little as things go and they progress. So I may wonder what they could do a little differently, why they would WANT to behave differently, and imagine what they would need to do to change their behavior. Do they need to take breaths? Do they remember the last time some shit went down? I really try to think of the “how” and “why” of every single action - from big blowouts to eye rolls.

So once I’ve figured out what they are going to do, I try to pinpoint the associated emotions I want to highlight. This is a whole separate process, because I have to think also about their internal versus their external emotional states. Steve, for example, will often have a discrepant inside and outside, because one of the truths about his character is that he is a chronic suppressor. There is also the issue of unreliable narration and interpretation of behavior. Steve might do something in a scene, but that doesn’t mean Bucky is going to interpret it the way it was intended. I have to think about their individual filters, which often reflect their internal beliefs about themselves. Bucky is more likely to read Steve’s actions as reflections of how BUCKY feels about HIMSELF (e.g., he’s disgusted by me because I’m disgusting) rather than imagine what Steve is really thinking based on his own experiences and beliefs about Bucky. I also attempt to convey some of the more second and third layer emotions that people have in situations, rather than only highlighting the primary emotion. Sad things don’t always just make people sad. Powerful emotions, for example, might make Steve feel out of control of himself, which could generate secondary emotions for him like frustration because he’s losing control. Part of the process in the construction of the narrative is also scrubbing what I’ve written for POV, because Bucky’s word choices aren’t the same as Steve’s, and in order to try to preserve the “voice” of each character, I often have to change the words I’ve opted to use, as well as the syntax.

So, as you can see, there’s a lot of layering that is happening all the time. As for the dialogue, I have no compunction about saying the lines aloud, “acting” them to see how they sound, to get a sense of what tone I want them to say things in. Now that I think of it, I do a bit of movement-based stuff, thinking about how people sit and stand, figuring how many steps it takes to get from A-Z, what it would look like to lean against something, how it would feel on the body, etc. I try to get the most felt sense of things as I can. If I’m imagining a scene, I try to put myself in the shoes of the characters to the point where I feel the emotions, just so I can know how it reflects in my body and my mind and behavior. I have more than once gotten drunk and drunk-written drunk Bucky then gone to clean it up later, as drunk writing can generate some great content I never would have been able to come up with sober, but the form, grammar, spelling, etc. is often rubbish. I also talk a LOT to my beta about all of this stuff, and I have certain friends and acquaintances in the fandom who are my consultants for various things.

So, I’m somewhat method I guess?? Is that a thing?? I dunno. It’s not hard to do when you live and breathe a story. It’s required a deep level of interest in - quite possibly an obsession with - the characters and their lives. I adore my characters, not in a self-congratulatory way, but because they feel so real to me. So it’s a joy to plan and write -- though I do hate first drafts with a passion.

OH - I also sometimes fast-draft chapters, which I did for 39. That is, write as FAST AS YOU CAN with no regard for how shitty the writing is. I wrote 10k words in a week, which was a finished fast-draft for me, and thus I had a very good felt sense of what was going to happen in the chapter, which felt amazing. It requires intensive outlining before, and nearly every word had to be rewritten, but one of the greatest frustrations of a story for me is having blank space ahead. Re-writing is way more fun than first draft writing. I have fluffed it up twofold with higher quality content, which I did all in less than two months…!! 

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

Well, this is surely my most unnecessarily yammering YAIT in history. But I hope it at least conveys my enthusiasm for these wonderful asks! It’s so lovely to hear from all of you, even if I take an eon to get back to you. Hang in there, everyone!

@grimshady @hutchhitched​ @b0n3l3ssm1lk​ 

(And thank you to @bae-buckyaboveeverything​ for the shout out. You made my day<3)

[bevioletskies]

(there’ll be no rest) for the wicked

summary: Apollo, an orphaned empath and magical law apprentice, finds himself lost after his mentor is locked up for poisoning people he supposedly never met. While working alongside Trucy, the daughter of one of the victims, he writes to Kristoph's estranged younger brother, asking for his help in solving the case. When Klavier, a talented spellsinger whose music is only surpassed by his magic, arrives at his request, he is nothing like Apollo imagined. And yet, he may be exactly who he was looking for.

pairings: apollo/klavier, ema/kay (established)

word count: 25.6k (5 chapters + epilogue; complete)

a/n: This fic is loosely based off the overall story arc in Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney, though it does include some spoilers for other games as well. This fic also takes place in the 1920s, and while I tried my best to be true to the time period (magic 'verse aside), there many be some inaccuracies. The familiars are the same as the ones in my other (unrelated) magic AU, every little thing he does is magic, and image references can be found here. Fic title is from the song No Rest For The Wicked by Lykke Li.

preview (from ch. 1):

A week went by, then two. Apollo was starting to wonder if the address was wrong, if Klavier was gone in any sense of the word, or if he just refused to get involved. He couldn’t blame him, necessarily, it was a traumatic truth that no one wanted to hear, but it didn’t stop Apollo from feeling disappointed.

Then, one evening, about three weeks after Apollo had sent the letter, he and Trucy were sprawled across Mr. Gavin’s living room, surrounded by old legal records, when there was a knock at the door.

Trucy sat up, mildly surprised. “I wonder if that’s Father,” she said. “My teachers have been calling the house lately, saying I’ve been neglecting my studies and ‘need proper discipline’. But how can I study at a time like this?”

“You really should be studying,” Apollo sighed, getting to his feet. “I’ll answer it.” He made his way through the enormous house, not caring much for the fact that he’d been wearing the same clothes four days in a row or that he’d never brushed his hair, then lowered the threshold ward. When he opened the door, standing in front of him was not Phoenix Wright, but Klavier Gavin.

The resemblance was immediately obvious - tall and lean-figured, long blond hair, bright blue-gray eyes. The rest of Klavier’s appearance, however, was uniquely his. He didn’t wear glasses or a pocket watch like his brother, but a stylish plum-colored suit with his waistcoat unbuttoned, his long, piano player’s fingers adorned with heavy silver rings. His skin was a shade or so darker, his smile wider, flashier. At his feet were some designer leather suitcases and his familiar, a German long-haired pointer with glossy brown fur and a sweet-looking face. Apollo couldn’t stop himself from staring.

“I’m used to being inspected by the ladies, but this is the first time I’ve felt this way with a man,” Klavier remarked. There was an accent there that Kristoph hadn’t had, either. “I apologize for my dishevelled appearance. Travelling by train takes a lot out of me, and I’ve always been terrible at teleportation. I’d rather not lose a finger trying to get home.”

“Mr...Gavin?” Apollo said dumbfoundedly.

“You’re Apollo Justice, ja?” Klavier extended his hand. “Call me Klavier. After all, it was mein Bruder who went by ‘Mr. Gavin’ around here.” He nodded his head towards his familiar with a fond smile. “And this darling girl is Freida. Forgive me if she tracks mud across the floor.” Mikeko approached her cautiously, his pink nose twitching as he sniffed her. She held perfectly still, though there was a brightness in her eyes that suggested she wanted to greet him in return.

“Yes, right,” Apollo stuttered, shaking Klavier’s hand. “Um, please, come inside.”

Klavier walked in with his suitcases levitating behind him, Freida trotting along dutifully by his feet. Apollo shut the front door and followed him down the hall and into the living room, watching apprehensively as Klavier spotted Trucy sitting on the coffee table with her bare feet propped up on the couch, eating a packet of Reese’s and leaving streaks of chocolate fingerprints on Kristoph’s law tomes. Klavier raised an eyebrow, amused. “And who might you be?”

(read on ao3)

[guardiankarenterrier]

Sabine: "If we legally adopt you both, son, that might make planning the wedding a bit tricky." Ladybug: "Ma--Madame Cheng!"

(Send me 2 sentences and I’ll continue them like they’re lines from a fanfic.)

look this was supposed to be a short drabble and nOPE WHOOPS IM BAD AT SHORT I GUESS

uh, desperada spoilers in this

ps i BARELY edited this sorry for any mistakes

EDIT: now with an AO3 link! because i know my track record with losing my own fics on tumblr

“Well,” Sabine says, much more thoughtfully than Ladybug had expected or been prepared for.  “If we legally adopt you both, son, that might make the wedding a bit tricky.“ 

“Ma-Madame Cheng!” Ladybug exclaims, feeling herself flush brightly.  “I’m- I’m flattered, really, thank you, but this- this should only be temporary, we don’t really need-” Marinette swallows, trying not to look at Chat Noir.  “Um, adoption.“ 

She shoots a quick glance over at her partner after all, but his sudden starstruck look is both the opposite of reassuring and sends some unidentifiable emotion shooting through her.  She knows he’s been enjoying this particular akuma fight more than she has- she has the really, deeply unsettling sense that Chat Noir didn’t have this kind of fun as a child before and he seems to be trying to make up for as much lost time as possible as fast as possible.

When she’s honest with herself about it, Marinette’s pretty sure that they both enjoy fighting villains more than they should. They still aren’t usually having this much fun unless it’s Max that’s been akumatised.  (They’re never thrilled to see anyone akumatised, but Max has given them opportunities to pilot a giant robot and leap into a video game- to say that fighting him hasn’t been fun would be such an obvious lie).

This time Marinette had missed both the akuma’s actual monologue and explanation, because even though Chat Noir had been as quick as ever to tackle her out of the way the akuma has such a ludicrously fast recharge time that she’d had no trouble firing again.

Chat Noir had still tried to throw himself over her again.  Marinette is relieved he wasn’t successful, because he already looks about five years old, and she doesn’t want to test whether the effect is cumulative- but that means that she’s currently in the body of a five year old, too.

She hadn’t noticed when it was just Chat who’d been hit, but the akuma’s youth ray seems to change more than just their bodies.  Her Lucky Charm had been her own cat pillow in red-spotted glory and Marinette had spent too long staring at and fretting over it, to the point where they’d both had to hide to retransform.

And the bakery had been close by.

And the Lucky Charm had seemed to indicate that was where they should go.

And there’s a tiny, terrified part of her that’s cropped up since first being hit that had been crying out for her mother.

They’d both retransformed crouched on either side of a bakery counter, barely out of each other’s sight, and then before Marinette could get past her disappointment that they were both still children Maman had appeared only to exclaim over them both.

Maman laughs now, which is also not terribly reassuring.  "Oh, sweethearts, I’m mostly kidding.  I know you’ll be back to your normal selves as soon as you defeat the akuma."  She eyes Chat Noir knowingly, though, and adds, "Although, I might remind you that it isn’t only young children who can be adopted.  There are teenage adoptions, you know.  It might raise some difficulties to adopt you both but I can’t see that anyone would want to separate you, any more than I would keep my own daughter from her best friend.”

Marinette viciously strangles any and all noise that tries to escape her throat at that.

Chat Noir does no such thing, letting out a sound that’s more cat than human in his delight, and this time Marinette turns to face him entirely.

He looks as happy as she’s ever seen him. His ears and tail are both giving happy constant twitches, and his purring isn’t the loudest she’s heard it but it’s getting close, and his eyes have dilated wider than she’s seen them since the time Venom Rose had conjured catnip all around them.

The longer Marinette looks at her partner, the more the sudden crack in her heart widens.  He looks- he looks so happy about the prospect of adoption.  He looks way too happy about it.

Marinette’s not even going to think about her mother’s offer to adopt her.  Ladybug is used to a certain level of identity shenanigans, because it’s already a struggle juggling Alya and Nino knowing about each other and everyone knowing about Chloe and Adrien knowing about Viperion while Chat Noir knows about Aspik, which she still hasn’t found a good way or time to explain to her partner-

“Kids,” Maman says gently, breaking through Marinette’s racing thoughts.  “Can you fight like this?  Do you need help?” She reaches behind her without looking and seems to let a broom handle hop into her hand.  “I may not be a superhero, but I do know how to fight.”

“You do?” Chat Noir breathes, finally breaking his silence.  He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet now, tail tip twitching rapidly. 

Maman laughs.  “Dear, I’m a mother.  Of course I do.  How else would I make sure my daughter knows how to fight, too?  Although I admit she has a much better handle on strategy than I do, even at her age!”

Ladybug finally, finally breaks herself out of her deepening worry over her partner’s enthusiasm to wrap an arm around his elbow and tug before her mother can say anything else embarrassing or potentially dangerous.  She does not need Chat Noir to think of Marinette as being a strategist.  “I’m really grateful, Ma- Madame Cheng, but it isn’t safe without our powers.  We’ll be alright if we stay together, but thank you so much for your generosity!”

“If you’re sure,” Maman says, looking honestly disappointed.  “But I want you both to know you can come back here anytime, okay? Any time at all , and if you need anything at all.”

Marinette thinks that’s the end of it, and she finally gets her partner to move in the direction of the door, only to stop when she hears her mother speak up one last time. 

“I meant it about the adoption,” Maman says gently.   “For both of you.  I don’t know your home lives, but you spend a lot more time fighting for all of us than you do at home- especially you, Chat Noir, we have all seen how you protect your partner.  And no matter your decision- really, you are welcome any time.  There is always space for one or two more at dinner.”

“T-thank you, Madame Cheng,” Marinette manages, desperately looking away from her partner because the hope and happiness suffusing his face at her mother’s offer is too much.  It’s way too much. 

It makes her already-cracking heart sink down to the soles of her feet, because she knew already that Chat Noir doesn’t have the happiest home life, but she didn’t think it was so bad that he would be this over the moon about being invited to share her home life. 

It would be so dangerous to start having him over for dinner regularly. 

But he looks so happy, the expression transforming his child’s face in a much more open way than she’s used to seeing on him at their real ages.  The mask does nothing to hide his delight. 

She’s going to have to invite him. 

She doesn’t know how she’s going to handle Ladybug not making it to family dinners they’ve both been invited to, not without either hurting his feelings (because her goofy partner is far more sensitive than almost anyone has realised) or risking too many dropped hints.  But she’s going to have to figure out some way around that.

“You’re sure you don’t need help, you two?” Maman asks worriedly as she opens the door for them.  “You should gather some of your allies, at least.”

Marinette immediately pictures a five year old Chloe and winces. Five year old Alya, while an intriguing thought, also doesn’t strike her as a good idea.

But she’s known Nino forever and she’s confident he can keep his head in battle even if he suffers the same age reversion as they both have, and she thinks Luka would have no trouble remaining calm and focused as well.  Plus, Second Chance means that Luka can stay an adult even when the rest of them are struggling.

“We’ll get our allies,” she assures her mother, even though she feels a little odd about it. “We’ll all be okay.”

“-just come back here if you still need help,” Maman says firmly. “Both of you! Partners should stick together.”

Chat Noir is practically vibrating with happiness as he exclaims, “We will!”

Maman smiles.  “Good luck then, Chat Noir, little bug.”

For the very first time Marinette takes Chat Noir with her to Master Fu’s.  Master Fu had given her a go-ahead on it after Desperada, after Marinette had spilled the day’s events to him out of a desperate need for reassurance only for her Master to gently point out that she knows very well who the most reassuring presence in her life is and it certainly isn’t him. 

And for the first time he’d said it was time to be more honest with her partner, time to begin to let Chat Noir in on more secrets.

As paranoid as it makes her, Marinette wants to involve him more.  She knows it hurts him not to know, that he feels like she doesn’t trust him when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Master Fu doesn’t seem terribly surprised to see their child forms or that they’ve shown up together.  He slides the Turtle Miraculous off without being asked and hands it to Marinette, then raises a questioning eyebrow when she hesitates over the Snake Miraculous and looks at Chat Noir.

She looks between him and Master Fu, distraught and unsure how much of her upset is due to their forcibly changed ages.

“You know the wisdom of your choices better than I ever can, Ladybug,” Master Fu says gently.  “If you think it is wise, then let it be so.”

Marinette takes a deep breath, then turns to Chat Noir and says, “I can go and get Carapace.  Can you bring this to Luka Couffaine? He lives on the Seine, on a boat called the Liberty.  He shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Chat Noir’s pupils dilate again, with happiness or shock or both, she isn’t sure.  “I-I’ll go straight there. Thank you for trusting me with this, my Lady!”

Marinette stares after him, her heart pounding in a way it does not have her permission to do, and realises that if he’s this happy and Maman is that determined then there is no way her parents aren’t about to adopt a stray Chat as thoroughly as they possibly can. 

It’s not necessarily a displeased realisation. 

He looked so happy.  She’s used to his light-hearted humour, but she’s never seen his whole being light up when it had when Maman had started teasing about adopting them both. 

The more Marinette thinks about it the more she starts to like the idea.  Chat Noir seems to waver between just fit enough and skinny enough to worry her, and knowing that he’s eating dinner with her would be a relief.  Knowing that he’s getting a little more of the affection he seems to crave so badly will be a relief.

Letting go of her worries and accepting that her family has maybe (definitely) gained a Chat by now, Marinette takes off herself to find Nino.  Navigating at this age and size is marginally more difficult but far more fun and she can live with that trade-off.

And the sooner they defeat this akuma the sooner she can make sure that no matter what Chat Noir’s real home life is like, he’ll have an escape to her own family.

(And if she tries really hard she can ignore the screaming revelation that her mother is apparently a Ladynoir shipper).

[echodrops]

Ten Totally Awesome, Very Serious, Incredibly Valid Reasons to Ship Shigaraki/Ochako

Pleaseee Note: This is a parody post. If you’re looking for real reasons to ship Shigako (M&Ms voice: they do exist!), they’re over here.

Spoilers for My Villain Academia, watch out.

Uh, also, before anyone goes stereotypically tumblr on me, no, I obviously do not condone shipping minors and adults. But I do fully support future fics, age changes, and AUs because I can actually conceptualize of fictional characters in circumstances different from the canon. First person to send me anon hate about a four-year age gap will be punted into the sun.  

1) Uraraka already has a track record of being attracted to a Merch-Collecting Nerd Prince with Zero Chill and only One Pair of Red Sneakers to his name.

It’s only inevitable that one day she’ll come to her senses and upgrade to the VASTLY SUPERIOR Nerd King Special Edition HD Re-Release™ instead.

Thank you to Reddit for providing me multiple pictures comparing these vile shoes.

2) Shigaraki might be a crazed terrorist hell bent on total world destruction, but he’s not interested in kinky girls.

Freak in the streets, vanilla in the sheets.

A PERFECTLY NORMAL girl like Ocha–

You know what, on second thought, let’s just… move along…

3) He’s got blue hair, she likes to wear pink. He was a skater boi, she said see yah later boi.

According to The Complete Colorstrologist’s Guide to Metaphysical, Metaphoric, and Metastasizing Personal Wells of Well-Being (publication pending); the expert opinions of at least three licensed metaphysicotheologico-cosmolonigologists; whatcolorismyaura .com (which is flagged as a security risk by my browser, and which I was too scared to actually unflag, even for the sake of this joke); like half of a $1.50/hour consultation with the professionals of 1-800-PSY-CHIC (which I hope is not a real phone number); and five whole minutes of Googling, pink and blue are infinitely compatible colors! The intensity and compassion of those possessing the pink aura helps to temper the brutal intuition and blunt honesty of the blue aura! The reliability and follow-through of one pastel soul empowers the bubbly generosity of the other! This is just plain and simple scientifically proven fact. Does your ship align with the stars?! I didn’t think so.

FURTHERMORE, deciphering the Illuminati’s cryptographic RGB code reveals that the-only-color-of-pink-anime-girls-are-allowed-to-wear corresponds perfectly to Numerology Life Path Number 7, while baby blue corresponds to Life Path 2, which, like, basically totally means they’re soulmates.*

* Every sign is your soulmate if you go through enough of the Google results.

Please also consider: Cotton candy is delicious.

I stole this picture from a vape shop. Please don’t sue me, vape shop.

4) Shigaraki and Uraraka would obviously be the ultimate low maintenance power couple.

They say that the most harmonious pairs are people who live similar lifestyles, right? Get you a man who won’t judge your habit of window-shopping at convenience stores.

Think of all the ridiculous AU fanfics the world is tragically missing out on!

Where is the penniless millennial disaster roommate AU?! (Can’t afford real food? Mochi makes the dream work. Their roof springs a leak? F R E E shower. Coupon game too strong. God help the person who cuts them in line for samples at the grocer’s.) Where is the “We got fake married for the tax breaks” AU?! (”Wait, what do you mean divorces cost money?”) The “Don’t think I’ll take it easy on you in battle just because we keep meeting at the 99¢ ¥100 store” AU?! The--

5) Who doesn’t love a beauty and the beast story? A tale as old as time? Song as old as rhyme?

I, for one, have perfect faith in the ability of Shigaraki’s beauty to civilize even the most horrendous of monsters.

6) Look Uraraka–

–you might have to bail his ass out of jail for murder, but at least you know you’ll never catch him cheating!

6.5) Their ship name could be Stardust. 🌠S T A R🌠🌌D U S T🌌!!! Why are y’all still sleepin’?!! Arghhkfghjfgh!

7) She’s already met his whole family!

The introduction got off on an awkward foot, trueee, but look on the bright side: there definitely won’t be any complaints about their relationship from his side of the aisle!

8) Her quirk makes her nauseous? That’s okay. He’s A L W A Y S nauseous.

It doesn’t get any more romantic than taking turns holding each other’s hair, and research suggests people who have maximum innate chemistry mirror each other’s physical behaviors without even noticing! You could say they just can’t hold it in anymore! It’s really overflowing! In this essay, I will-- 

9) The couple that plays together, stays together. 

This is where I WOULD put a picture of Shigaraki gaming... if Horikoshi had ever drawn one, but he WON’T, because he knows full well that Shigaraki is a fake gamer who only ever watches Let’s Plays.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single male in possession of a decent PC build, must be in a want of a hot gamer girlfriend. Semi-mythical in nature, it is rumored that once every nine years, when Mars aligns with the release of a new triple AAA title that has single player and no micro-transactions, a female gamer will reveal herself via dropping push-to-talk in the voice chat and will accept challengers of note. Should you best her in battle, the ancient legend claims, she may deem you a worthy companion. But lose, and your dignity fate will lie entirely in her hands.

Ochako is crazy competitive. Shigaraki’s ass is grass.

10) You ever see him act like this much of a doofus for anyone but Uraraka Ochako?

I rest my case.

[poemsfromthealley]

a semi-fic I’d call “a hazy shade of winter”

The promo for SH 3.18 is out and the topic du jour is: Alec vs. Magnus's magic. Beautiful instant angst, just add tears. Here's how I'd make it weird and bittersweet (spoilers for 3.17 and the promo for 3.18):

*

First of all, Alec tells Magnus about his plan to contact Asmodeus. And first of all, Magnus says, No, we're not doing it. I want my father to have nothing more to do with this. No more ways for him to fuck us over. There has to be another way.

It's going to be a hard, slow, arduous way.

They don't break up. Magnus gets that new place and they move in together. (It's tolerably close to the Institute.) Then they investigate their damned options. Magnus disappears down a rift of book hunts and library visits and phone calls. That's on the good days. When he can muster himself and see the people and do the work.

Then there are the days he loses to a haze of apathy, to staring at walls and drinking too much. To sleeping too much or not enough. To the days when nothing moves and the world is grey and flat and meaningless, and everyone he loves is talking through a thick wall of glass and nothing connects.

It's Izzy who convinces Magnus to take his first client after the first, worst nadir is over.

She needs help with a conundrum, a new demon mutation that's not new at all, but was last recorded centuries ago. In a bout of slight mania, Magnus goes through his entire room of research journals and finds his own notes from 1737. They solve the case.

She pays him double the standard consultation fee and tells him he should consider getting back to it.

He and Alec never break up. They may sleep in separate beds or separate buildings. Magnus may seek refuge with Catarina or in Ragnor's old safe houses (or one of his own) or with Dot, who lived and moved to a small villa in Italy and is living incognito and keeping cats and growing tomatoes. Or any of his dozens of friends who are entirely uncowed by Lorenzo's petty attempts to cut Magnus off from his community.

He loses friends, too. To pity, to disdain. Some wonder how much of a warlock he ever was to give it all up for some nephilim boy. Some of them can't bear to look at him—he is too broken, frail, mortal, impossible. Some see him as of no further use. As it goes.

Some of them spend hours and days in consultation with him. Smuggle books out of the Spiral Labyrinth and other warlock troves for him. Loop through every hole to make sure no possibility is missed.

With Alec, there are arguments, and simmering resentment, and at least one blow-out fight where Magnus screams that he should talk to his father after all, for all the good Alec's doing him.

They don't speak for two months. Alec moves back to the Institute. Magnus goes to Morocco without warning and is only found when Alec alerts Catarina in a panic and she finds him (they have (Magnus had) a standing tracking spell for emergencies, in case they can't get off a fire message for some reason).

It's hard on Cat, too, this slow loss of a friend who's closer than blood, who still understands her from a glance but is no longer for always.

Not even warlocks truly live forever. But they're both in the middle of their first millennium. She thought they'd have centuries before apathy and inertia caught up to them. They were fighting it together. Still, every week, she calls him. She brings Madzie over, when Magnus has the energy. Sometimes she brings a bottle of wine, when he doesn't.

Completely independent of each other, Raphael and Maryse try to hold Magnus up. They both understand, if not the utter loss, then the devastating nature of change wrought on your core self. They add their voices to the persistent refrain of everyone around him. Let us love you. Let us see you when you can't.

Life goes on.

(Without Luke, Raphael or Magnus, the Downworld cabinet peters out, but when Maia begins building a new pack for Brooklyn, Alec goes to the Hunter's Moon and asks, How can I help?

She tells him, of course, that wolf business is for wolves, but if he wants to come by and keep her in the loop on the Shadowhunter side, she won't throw him out. He puts his patrols on the lookout for new wolves. Any freshly turned wolves out are to be calmed and called in. No killing, on pain of kissing your career in the NYC Institute an instant goodbye.

That is another story. The story of how Maia and Alec accidentally win each other's respect and then friendship. How they wrangle Shadow World politics together. How Simon ends up throwing his Daylighter cred behind Maia on some issue affecting both werewolves and vampires. How Alec finds his own parabatai backing Maia over him because he's being dumb and Shadowhunter-y and clearly the issue at hand needs to change. But it happens in the margins of this one.)

Maryse never tells Magnus Alec was going to propose. Neither does Jace.

Alec never mentions the words "grow old together". He categorically refuses the possibility that there may be no solution. He's still Head of the Institute and he does his work, but finding help for Magnus becomes his calling. If he ends up doubling the Institute research acquisitions and diverting all extra funds to the library, well, that's a side effect. (Izzy doesn't talk about it. She and her research team also reap the benefits.)

Alec throws himself into saving Magnus but if Magnus is his highest priority, beyond loving him, it means respecting him. Hearing him. Meeting him as himself, not as a cause to fight for.

The lesson of listening is still the hardest. For both of them.

It's too easy for Magnus to imagine Alec is only suffering him, humouring him. To look at Alec and think he could do better and easier than a has-been warlock—even when Alec looks back and sees only someone wise, generous, valiant and kind. Someone his heart chose.

Alec doesn't know how to love people for their parts. He never put a worth on Magnus's magic. The only thing he can love is all of Magnus, the indelible presence that is him.

They break each other a few times over this, the push and pull of why are you still here and how long do you think you can do this. There are tears and shouting and messy make-up sex. They pick up the pieces and see how they fit this time. Eventually they remember that when grand gestures are impossible, small moments will sustain you.

There is still room for the occasional grand gesture. They both have a flair for the dramatic.

Slowly, slowly, Magnus finds light in his days. The laughter of friends. Burrowing back into Alec's warmth in the bed when they can sleep in. Maryse calling about a new book she got through a contact. Izzy needing an opinion on a fashion item or an interesting demon part. Long, largely unspeaking walks in the sun with Raphael. Messages from those he's still been able to help, with nothing but his wits and his knowledge. The changes for the better in the Shadow World of New York. The small hooks other people cast that tangle you gently into the net of life.

Magnus finds the ring by accident. Understands its significance almost at once. He almost puts it back where he found it without a word, but he and Alec only ever got to where they are by talking. So he asks, in some soft moment.

Alec goes quiet. He still can't lie worth a damn, and the memory of his aborted proposal, to this day, stings. That he was so blind to Magnus's pain, so focused on fixing the problem that he didn't pause to think if it was the right solution, if their needs and desires were in any way in alignment. (They weren't. That was the tragedy.)

So he says, Yeah, it is what you think it is. It wasn't the time. I loved you, but I wasn't seeing you.

Magnus closes his eyes, takes that in, and says only, Ask me.

And Alec goes to his knees on the rug and asks him. Marry me. If you'll have me, I'm yours. The way they are right then, knocked about, tired and triumphant, still working through everything. 

(Magnus doesn't even let him up from that rug for a few hours. They drop covert allusions to that oh-we-got-engaged sex for years to come, but there are never details. Everyone hates them for it.)

They do, this time, get married.

And—either Magnus gets his magic back or he doesn't. Either Alec will be his last love or he won't. But he finds himself again, in bits and pieces. He knows, beyond question, that he is loved for himself. Due to the work he's done and others have done with him, he leaves a legacy of safety and support and mysteries unravelled, that will help countless people after him.

It is, in either case, a life well lived.

[bat-losers-inc]

Place of Ruins

Summary: Tim Drake is much changed from the boy that Ra's al Ghul remembers him to be and Ra's likes to believe that he played a large role in his creation, for better or worse. Or: Ra's uses the death and resurrection of Damian Wayne as an ruse to tempt Tim again. Tim has other plans. // Set four years after Collisions in the Dark.

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR “COLLISIONS IN THE DARK”, power dynamics, unrequited lust, non-consensual kissing.

Pairings: Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Ra’s al Ghul, Tim Drake & Nyssa Al Ghul

Notes: Just something I couldn't get out of my head. The idea that Ra's and Tim would meet again but this time without the power imbalance of the previous fic. Now they're almost equals, but their mind games with each other still continue.

        ____________________________________________________________

Taklamakan Desert

18 mi South of Hotan, Xinjiang

__________

Ra’s waited a good distance from the cave’s mouth in patient silence, content to make his presence known only at the right moment. Better to let his prey come out on his own than try flushing him out with force and risk losing him in the dark tunnels that twisted and forked inside the caves of this region. Ra’s had learned that lesson the hard way the first time and it had cost him nearly everything.

Besides, he very much doubted that his prey would be caught unaware. If he’d risk coming to this place, practically on the back door of the Demon Head’s domain, without anticipating the risk of discovery then he was not the boy Ra’s remembered him to be. Ra’s almost would have been angry at such a brazen move if it hadn’t killed two of his birds with one stone.

Ah, speaking of birds…

Ra’s stepped down from the dry craggy perch that had served as his observation point as two figures— a man and woman—  emerged from the cave’s mouth and into the sweeping desert dunes: dyed a dark blue as the sun slipped below the jagged rock face that towered high above them.

His second daughter Nyssa was much the same as he remembered her; bellicose and as severe in personality as she was in dress with her loose tunic, pants, and long spear rested across her muscled shoulder blades. Since his previous run in with her, she’d continued to evade his attempts to root her out and finish her off for good. Despite how much Ra’s wished to put a sword in her, instead he held back— contenting himself for now with the knowledge of learning her most recent hideout— and focused his attention on the more important prize standing beside her.

Four years had changed Timothy from a eighteen year old boy into a man of twenty two and as far as Ra’s could see it had only enhanced every quality that he’d first found enthralling about him. The day or more of wandering the edges of the Taklamakan desert in search of Nyssa had tanned his skin to a light copper that highlighted the outlines of his muscled arms— a feature of Tim’s that Ra’s had never before appreciated.

He couldn’t stand by a moment longer.

Tim turned sharply at the sound of his footsteps, hand jumping to the dagger handle that rested against his hip. A Uyghur knife. Ra’s noted the locally crafted weapon with interest for he’d never known Tim to fight with a blade in all his years of closely following the boy. Was this a new development with his young detective? He couldn’t deny the temptation to provoke him to a fight, if only to see how he handled the blade and relish in how easy it would be to overpower him.

But Timothy held back and even threw out an arm against Nyssa as she swung her spear around with a hissed curse and the intention of stepping in front of him. His detective fixed Ra’s with his eyes, pale blue beneath the dark headscarf that blocked the ever-whirling sands.

“Ra’s.”

Ra’s smiled. “Hello, Timothy,” His gaze flickered over his daughter half heartedly. “Nyssa.”

Tim half turned to Nyssa, unwilling to pull his full gaze away from Ra’s. Smart boy.

“You can go. I’ll handle him.”

Ra’s smile widened. Oh? You’re going to handle me, are you?

Nyssa seemed to be debating if she cared enough to argue this point. Ra’s decided to help her with her decision. “Yes, run along, Nyssa. Perhaps Timothy will buy you enough time to flee with you life.”

Nyssa growled at that, her grip shifting on her spear, but in the end she retreated back into the depths of the cave mouth with a respectful nod over her shoulder to Tim.  

Tim watched her go, but Ra’s quickly put at end to that. He struck out as Tim’s back was turned, grasping him by the chin and twisted him around harshly into an equally bruising kiss. It lasted no more than the briefest of moments as the younger boy’s hands came up immediately and shoved him off. But like a starved man Ra’s pressed his attack. Tim had barely retreated back a step before Ra’s caught him by the back of the neck and yanked him forward until he stood chest to chest with him, interlocking his fingers at the base of his head to keep him there. Tim gripped one of his wrists and arched his head away from Ra’s questing lips.

“Let go,” Tim snarled. Ra’s chuckled at the hostility radiating off the boy like heat and chose to ignore it like the useless show it was.

“Ah-ah,” Ra’s pushed Tim’s head back to face forward with the heel of one hand. “I want to see you. Don’t you want to see me, Timothy? After all, it’s been so long.”

He yanked Tim’s headscarf down around his neck. “Now, that’s better.”

Tim spat in his face. Ra’s blinked once, his anger flashing as he felt the saliva slide down his cheek. Still he checked his emotions… after all it wouldn’t serve to let his anger get the better of him when he had his prize in hand. He used Tim’s scarf to wipe up the mess and rewarded the boy’s slight with a heated kiss that had him twisting to break free by the time he pulled away.

“Stop,” Tim hissed.

“Make me,” Ra’s breathed against his cheek. “Or do you even want me to? Coming here without that stupid little shit you call a boyfriend to defend your honor. You’re practically begging for it, aren’t you, Beloved?”

Fire lanced up Ra’s body as Tim reached across his body and pulled his knife, slashing him backhanded across his midsection before flipping the knife and coming back with a downward arc to his legs that Ra’s only narrowly retreated from. He pressed a hand to his bleeding torso, breathing heavy as he glared back at the younger man for the move was iconically in the style of the Red Hood.

“You little bitch.”

The wound wasn’t deep, just enough to make a point.

“I don’t need Jason to defend me. I can do that just fine by myself. ” said Tim, wiping the blade off on his pant leg before resheathing it. “So, please tell me again how I’m ‘begging for it’, and see what the next thing I cut is.”

Ra’s dropped his hand and followed after him as he turned and made his way up the dunes, back the way he’d come. The dune buggy he’d used to travel to the caves from the main highway was parked a quarter of a mile off where the dunes gave way to the rugged mountainous landscape around Hotan. Ra’s stared at his back as they walked that distance— the loose shoulder and casual stride— not a trace of tension in his form. Four years of being hunted had made the boy fearless in the defense of his person. Ra’s would give him that. Gone was the boy that hid behind Batman’s cape when the full power of the league and all it’s assassins were thrown at him.

“When did he teach you to use a blade? I’ve never seen you fight with one before.”

Tim stopped and glanced over his shoulder, his dark hair blowing against his face in the strong winds. “That’s because you’ve never gotten close enough for me to need it. Dip yourself in your lazarus pit all you want, a few years of youthfulness still won’t make you strong enough to overtake me.”

Ra’s repeated attacks against him, Jason’s murder, the psychological manipulations… all of it had only served to hone him like a fine blade and now he was ready to cut back. Ra’s was as much his creator as Batman was.

Ra’s smiled. “Never say never, my dear. The day may come when you or some other member of your family needs my assistance, and trust me when I say that I’ll take as much as I can get from your indebtedness. Each year you spend evading me racks up quite a lot of interest to collect on. It might be in your best interest to make a few minor repayments while you can… two nights a year— or even just one… I’m open to negotiating. And poor little Jason never has to know.”

Tim walked back towards him, eying him critically. “And I suppose sending the Heretic to murder Damian was your way of setting up the board for these ‘negotiations’, wasn’t it?”

Ra’s frowned with mock sorrow. “The poor boy, to be cut down so young. I hear that Bruce is devastated… that he’d do anything to bring back his son.”

Tim’s eyes were icy. “You’re a snake. Bruce won’t ever ask you for help after what you’ve done to me… what you’ve done to this family. And for the record, I’m not here to ask you either.”

“Then why, dear Detective, are you here?”

“Because I owe Damian a debt for what he did for me all those years ago. Because my fucked up history with you means that I’m the only one who can make this trip with a modicum of assured safety— if only because of what you want from me. And because you’re not the only person I know with access to a Lazarus pit.”

“Nyssa,” growled Ra’s, turning sharply to look back towards the caves.

Tim stepped up behind Ra’s’ shoulder. Ra’s could practically hear the smile behind his words. “I think I gave her enough time to flee, don’t you? And with the comm link I passed off to her, I have a feeling that by the time you track her down again, we’ll already have Damian back with us. Once again, Ra’s. You lose.”

Ra’s laughed. “Yes, maybe so, but you’re wrong about one thing, Detective. Safe isn’t a word I’d use to describe our interactions, especially when you’re this close to me and so very far from home. I know what you like, no matter how much you try to deny it, and it���s something that Jason Todd can never give you. You’ll never be truly satisfied with a man who gives into you so easily.”

“Maybe, but just because I want something, doesn’t mean it’s good for me.”

“I’m not in the business of being good for you. And like the snake that I am, I’ll always be around to tempt you.”

Tim stared off across the dark dunes and let the silence stretch between them for awhile. Finally he spoke.

“I know something about you as well, Ra’s. You’ve always loved the hunt far more than you’ve ever loved keeping me. If I didn’t fight you, I’d be boring. I’d be just like all the rest. You don’t want a successor to you empire. You want a worthy opponent. And it’s for that exact reason that I know you’re going to let me leave here tonight.”

“Mmm. You do make an extraordinary opponent, Timothy.”

Tim pulled his headscarf back over his face. “Until the next round, Ra’s.”  

Ra’s stood and watched him as he climbed in his vehicle and disappeared into the distance. Yes, he thought to himself with an eager yearning he couldn’t put into words, until the next round. I’ve got my eye on the prize.