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sideysvault · 2 months ago

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𓍼ོ Ad Astra Per Aspera 𓍼ོ (PT. 7)

Ice and snow

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (Bonus Chapter, dated in the near vicinity of the series events)

WC: 4,310k

Tags: [sfw] Arranged marriage, slow burn, angst, mentions of dead, mature themes, panic attack, enemies to lovers, extreme hurt, comfort.

full series masterlist.

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No matter the circumstance, the wins, or the land conquered, they never seemed to be able to leave. Perpetually stuck inside the corner in which the blacks had forced them to hide in. The Princess spent her days studying, reading, desperately grasping for any piece of information that might help lose the collar on their necks. She tried hard to ignore the desperation that was boiling inside of her; Animals always make mistakes when they are scared. But it had become harder and harder to ignore, and it became harder and harder to stay on the sidelines, pretending it did not matter to her.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had come out of his peaceful hiding place and began to fly to every corner in the entirety of the west, trying to convince disfavored houses to join his suicide cause. Most of the men in power still had some resemblance of honor and an almost instinctive respect for the traditions of the old Valyria. In her opinion, that was one of the biggest threats to the legitimacy of King Aegon's rule. After all, haven’t they all bent the knee to a young Rhaynera Targaryen? Wasn’t her father, still mighty and publically present, right there to conduct the affair? And wasn’t Aegon proclaimed king in the privacy of the chamber of a dying man? A weak man? One poisoned and made compliant by milk of the poppy? Aegon´s behavior and the people's hunger were not exactly helping their cause, either. Something had to change drastically, as even she felt the desire to see someone else sit on The Iron Throne.

But what was one to do? Her husband was bent upon the Green’s right to rule, partially because of the wound that was inflicted upon him at youth, and partly because he was still convinced that Aegon could be conducted in the right direction. And the skilled sailor who was to tame the uncontrollable waves that Aegon had for judgement? Prince Aemond’s brilliant mind, of course.

A childish fantasy, yes. But she had become quite fond of her husband, and she deeply desired to help Heleana’s family.

What occupied the Princess’s mind was a rather simple task; To predict where the bastard Prince was going next.

She had begged her husband to give her details of whatever relevant information he heard on the Council, arguing that she was getting particularly bored and unstimulated with domestic life. When he had unexpectedly agreed, she, for a moment, had dreamed of a future in which she could serve the Kingdom as an adviser of sorts, perhaps even one with the common folk's well-being in mind. Such were the thoughts that powered her body through the nights of research. The Princess had spent every waking hour trying to trace the path the enemy was to take. She wanted to be absolutely certain before telling Aemond about her discovery.

What she did not know was that Prince Aemond knew of his wife's critically inclined mind, and he had always felt a strong desire for them to become partners, sharing information with one another, and assisting each other intellectually. But, knowing The Princess's need for control and secrecy, he figured she would much prefer it if he waited for her to confess to him her intentions.

That is why she did not expect that her husband would insist that she came along with him. Surprised, she realized that he wanted her company on this trip.

“Oh! Don’t be ridiculous, Aemond. I do not enjoy snow, it is at odds with my nature. You don’t need me to chaperone you”.

Her husband waved her hand dismissively, apparently unconcerned with her weather preferences.

“You crafted the prediction, it is only fair you get to travel alongside me on this diplomatic effort”. He stopped for a second, before cheekily adding “Besides, I thought you had grown bored by the domesticity of the castle”.

Aemond was right, and despite her discomfort with the scenery, being so close to the efforts of peace -or at the very least, resolution-Was what her heart desired. But the Princess knew that her ego would not be able to take the blow if she was to accompany him as a mere visual attraction.

“I do not wish to serve wine and smile to the northerners”

Prince Aemond laughed at her as if she had said something amusingly stupid. Dumbfounded, she slowly blinked at him, confused.

“Dear wife, I would not be taking you as a prop. I value your tact, I thought I had made that clear to you”

Even if she despised flattery, she still had a growing sensation that he was being truthful. So there it was. It had been decided.

——

The man in front of her looked like the northerner he was. It went beyond the provincial way in which he carried himself. While Ser Cregan Stark's youth of his time in this realm still adorned his round face, his recently developed manhood was made evident by the undoubtedly brash air to his presence. Even if he was similar in age to her, he portrayed a certain confidence in his gaze that she immediately felt both drawn to, and jealous of. The Princess had heard stories, of course. Boys in the North aged like metal: Tempered and shaped by the bludgeoning hammer of the winter; Forced to be strong, animalistic.

A smile formed on her lips. In a sense, they were much like the wolves they so dearly kept by their side. Loyal like lap dogs, partially astute, superstitious and dangerous when provoked.

How was it? That old saying? There is no King but the one in the North?

“Does it amuse you?” He was getting irritated at her, but more than feeling personally offended by the Princess’s incredulity, the man felt an exasperating disillusionment: she wasn’t as easily swayed as he had thought. She had a hard head on her shoulders, just like her unyielding husband.

“I am deeply sorry, My Lord” the breath of her laughter still echoed in her voice as she continued, “You meant for me to tell my husband, who is pragmatic to the extreme, a tail of monsters and snow?”

As she smiled at him, amused, her mind brought her to think of the Prince himself, who had a beautifully angular face, but his characteristics gave away his birthright. Targaryen features; Delicate, elegant, sincerely blue and with the character of an elusive dragon flying gracefully through the skies. There was power in their lineage, yes. But it had been given. A gift from the gods, or, more feasible than the later, a stroke of luck. However, since the Jaehaerys tragedy, she was now inclined to believe that the technicality escaped her area of expertise.

The Northern Prince, however, had common features. Handsome, strong, rough, and all different from the one before him in the familial tree. A look much more suited for a republican, a man that was given power by his own merit and capability. It was a trustworthy look, and even if she knew better than to judge people on their presentation alone, it was easy to see why the North people followed the Stark line, and why everyone always flinched around the Targaryen's homogeneity.

She felt kin to Cregan Stark, and she was certain of the North’s key role in putting an end to the war, so she felt inclined to go through the trouble of trying to put sensible thoughts on her stubborn husband’s head. Besides, it had been her idea to come this far, she owed it to the both of them.

“It is imperative for you to try to speak some sense to your husband. We are people of honor, and we bent the knee to Rhaenyra Targaryen. But it is certainly true that protecting our people is our primary duty and responsibility. Above all else. Do you honestly believe that my ancestors spent blood, sweat, and centuries building The Wall because of a troublesome tale?”

The Princess sighed and decided that the best path forward was to be honest with him.

“Since I came into the region I have experienced things that have changed the way I see reality. But this-, well, with all the respect your House deserves, Lord Cregan-” The look on his face made her choose her words with caution “A lot has changed since the era where we were afraid of fire and thirsty for blood. However, I-”

“I have heard stories of your people being pedantically elitist. But I’ve never thought it would be in a more insidious manner than the Targaryen's”.

She winced in embarrassment, reprimanding herself with murmured words. Her harsh manners were getting the best of her. She could not even refute the comment that she knew to be true. “I was trying to say that I agree with you, Ser Cregan”.

A look of surprise washed over her as the unthinkable happened; He laughed. Loudly and unapologetically. The sound of his strong palm hitting on the wooden table and his laughter continued had startled you. But the absurdity of his unceremoniously joviality made you laugh as well. She was grateful for the opportunity to get out of the oppressive tightness of the walls on the Red Keep.

A sudden change in the Wind caught The Princess's attention. She had been wrong about the North, despite the numbing sensation on the tip of her fingers, the snow had captured her heart and made it malleable, filled with hospitality and reverence for the beauty of the Natural World. It was very different from where she had come from, that was perhaps the culprit of her distraction. The sound of the wind against the window and the contrast of the castle against the pristine confines of the land had taken her far away from the room she was in. Far away from the horrors of war.

Realizing she might be being rude yet again, she tried to explain herself to Lord Stark.

“I bet there is nothing that burns like the cold of Winterfell, but, God. It is a marvel to experience”.

“You don't go out often. Do you, My Lady?”.

A burst of laughter emerged out of her, and her teeth and gums were happily exposed for a second, before she covered her face with her hands, embarrassed one again. But suddenly unconcerned with her manners, at ease.

“Is it terribly obvious?”

Ser Cregan looked at her for a moment, before smiling.

“Yes, very much so”.

They smiled at each other. The Princess thought of what her life might have been had she been forced to spend it with a person who could be a friend to her. For a moment, just for a moment, their eyes lingered on each other. It was cut short by a sudden remembrance of the state of affairs. They were both in that room for a reason. It was like a curtain was abruptly raised on a stage, and they were back to the insipid negotiations, however honest they may have been.

“I made a great error once, and it cost someone’s future. I do not wish for my pride to blind me ever again. I will speak with my husband, Ser. But I doubt it will make any difference”.

Cregan Stark knew at that moment that she was making a vow to him, that she sincerely wished for the war to stop, to move forward.

“I did not take Prince Aemond to be a man willing to ask for loyalty, much less to be as diplomatic as he has poorly tried to be. I can clearly infer that it was by your design, Princess.”

She did not answer to him, unsure of how safe it would be for it to be known that she sometimes had a voice in her marriage.

“He listens to you”. He uttered those words as if they were gospel, something obvious to the most ignorant of onlookers. Lord Cregan took a breath as he looked into her eyes, one again “I do appreciate your efforts, even if they turn out to be futile.”

——

The Princess did not take into account that her husband was in the room next to her, and that he might have heard their laughter. The shred of hope she had felt while talking to Ser Cregan was violently taken away by The Prince.

He was being unreasonably stubborn, and she had felt disappointed, for she was not property, and did not believe her husband to think of her that way.

“Please, Aemond”.

“I did not take you for a fool, wife. Did he charm his way into your heart with his stories of honor from the Old World?”.

She felt an exasperating fix of rage. The Princess had spent endless nights without sleep, reading interminable, useless files, papers, books, maps, trying to work hard to alleviate the weight of her husband's sins and pressures, and it was all ruined by a misplaced fit of jealousy? Did Aemond not realize all the work she had put into this prognosis? How much she had hoped it would be able to help him? In some way, any way, really? Was he lying about valuing her insight, did he consider her as just a prop and a hand to hold when he was sorrowful?.

The intoxication of patriotic feelings and lineage royalties had always been something alien to her. But she did profoundly believe in one's duty to struggle against the forces that threaten to hurt your family. The Greens had given her a home, and Aemond had been an agreeable husband, and Gods, they killed sweet Heleana´s babe. Furthermore, if she could do something to alleviate the people's hunger, and to shorten the sorrow of war, was it not her duty?. Faith had given her a husband who she thought saw her as an equal. And, despite her best efforts, sometimes, late at night, her husband's teary eyes whispered tales of affection to her, and his hands, always blessed with decisiveness, kept her mind strong and far away from the dreaded terrors of the past.

Prince Aemond, on the other hand, realized the moment he heard his wife's laughter, that he had never made her happy like so; That in their marriage, the strange moments of tenderness and mutual support had only come from sadness or despair. Never, never from a place of innocent happiness or joviality. For even his cardinal sin had been a way to protect her. The whispers of court were not foreign to him, and he had heard the pitiful remarks made to the Princess when the news of their betrothal were made public. How could he call himself better than his brother, if he were to force upon his newly-wed wife the same pain that was inflicted upon him in infancy? How could he truly know if her advances were sincere, or if it was due to a resigned fearfulness? And even if they were, how could he, inept as he was on those matters, fulfill the expectations of a Targaryen Prince?. He had not lied to his wife. In these troubling times, especially with his Uncle, it was dangerous to so recklessly conceive a child. He had, after all, been mutilated in infancy, in the very walls of his home, and war had not been unleashed just yet. What type of father could he be, if he were to expose his child to a similar, or worse, fate than him?.

He did not expect for their laughter to hurt as much as it did. Aemond knew that it was most likely due to his own inadequacies. What other reason could there be, for his wife to laugh and be happily sweet with every person she encounters? Everyone but him?. Was the mistake made on that night she wanted to consummate the marriage, utterly unforgivable? Had he not made it clear that he values her beyond the marital arrangement? Or was it something inside of him, something rotten, poisoned, that repelled her? Is that what made his wife treat him with the usual defensiveness? Was she scared of him, as everyone else seemed to be?. Or had he embarrassed her beyond any reparations, when his brother had told the entirety of the Red Keep about his submissiveness to Sylvie? Perhaps, there would have been a time when none of it would matter much to him. But he found her fascinating, and on occasion, sincerely kind. He had grown painfully fond of her.

His thoughts were promptly interrupted by his wife's pleading “There may be some truth to what he is saying”

Aemond sighed, and grabbed the bridge of his nose. This conceit mannerism further exasperated The Princess. It reminded her of her parents, dismissing her yet again.

“I can’t promise him my-, our family's army. And if he is so concerned with honor, what guarantees us that he won’t later support the usurper?”.

“He is desperate enough to forsake the honor of his clan. I believe that he is profoundly concerned with the white walkers. It is inconsequential, whether we believe it or not. What matters is that he believes them to be a pressing threat to the kingdom”.

Aemond was convinced by the North's importance in the War, and he could not help but smile at his wife's vehement trust in his political influence. A mere misconception, he feared.

“I would never be able to convince Aegon, or the council. The Northern's are prideful superstitious people; malleable, a liability”.

“A liability is losing territory and alliances every day” She took a deep breath as she paced around the room, “Aemond, I’m not a believer, but how can you explain Heleana’s gift?”

“That’s different. Peculiarities of pure Targaryen blood. Unlike the bastard sons of Rhaenyra”.

She laughs in exasperation. There it was, again. She truly believed that her husband could be a good leader, if he was somehow able to release the bonds that made him a servant to the power of his own vanity and lineage. Yes, the Targaryen's were said to be of pure Valyrian blood, dragon lords of ancient lineage. Will he ever be able to let go of such a tyrannical tale? From her point of view, it was one of the few things that kept him far away from greatness. The only one he could control and change, at least.

“Is something funny, My Dear?”

She felt like crying out of pure spite. The Princess was the one who convinced him of coming to The North, and it had been all for nothing. He had failed her, and she had failed him as well. She tried strenuously hard to not take her husband's negation personally, but she failed to do so. The mind of the Princess was simple that way, goal-oriented. And tragically prideful, as she usually was.

“Dear Gods! You cannot be this blinded by hate. Your own resentments are clouding your judgement, husband. This is the best decision available to us” She tried to take a hold of her emotions, as this was not at all how she planned to present her case, "Given the northerner's attitude towards the Wall, the only natural step is that we consider exploiting their needs in the interest of our Kingdom”.

Aemond did not know why he could not say it. He agreed with his wife, this was the best possible route. Even if the plan had its flaws, in their precarious condition, it was as good as they could strive for. But he, in his insensate state, could not bring himself to admit in front of her, -In front of himself, really - that he truly held no power. All of it. His futile plans, it was a delusion of his. And he was deeply embarrassed by it. As much as he had tried to turn the odds in his favor, it never seemed to work. The Prince could not stand to even imagine the look she would have when his wife realized that he was as powerless as she was. So, he said something else.

“It is a bargain. What do you always say? A cry of desperation? Furthermore, I doubt that the usurpers are able to make such abiding promises, even in a stage of crisis”.

Even as those words left his mouth, he could feel that for the first time since the attempted consummation, he had truly hurt her. It went beyond not getting her way, and it went far beyond the matters of war. It was something more personal, far more domestic. He knew that this discussion, as many in their marriage, were a mere result of that something, -What it was, he could not say - that did not quite fit.

Crying was not at all alien to her, as a matter of fact, for someone who took such satisfaction in their strength, she cried rather easily. Of course, she didn't when Aemond was there, or anybody else, but still, this night, The Princess did not have the energy to hide it. It all came together, convulsing and hitting her like a swell. She suddenly felt like no air was left in the chamber, and, warning to grasp for anything solid, she fell to the cold floor. Such hysterical episodes happened to her, on rare occasions, how much less than when she was an infant. The woman felt an indescribable shame infect her throat, further obstructing the air to enter her lungs.

“Aemond, besides Helena, I have no one. Besides you, I have no one on the Red Keep. Those Walls are my whole life now. Do not reprimand me for having cordial interactions with others. Especially when you won't ever talk to me”. She crawled -how pitiful-, to the nearest wall, in an attempt to further anchor herself to the material surroundings, before she continued, “I worked every fucking night to help you on this, and, and this is how you react?”

She knew that it was hard to talk to her husband about her case, because he is oh so wise, and he loves himself so. But there she went and promised it anyway to Ser cregan Stark. And she did not make out a very good case for herself, for she was crying before she had finished.

Aemond was not as unfeeling as she had thought, because as soon as she saw her drop to the ground, and crawl to the wall, it did not take him very long to hit the ground, and move on hands and knees to sit beside her. She laughed through the tears. Oh, the great Royal Couple, dragging themselves on the floor like babes. Unsure of how much she would like being touched, Aemond opted for grabbing only her index finger, and slowly, trying to synchronize it to his breath pattern as much as he could, he began to draw circles on it.

“I am sorry, but it seems like you are in a constant war with me. Saving grace and being charitable to everyone else. Do I scare you? Did the incident in Silver Street disgust you to that extent?”

The Princess got inexplicably angry when he felt ashamed about that, and perhaps being rather insensible, she spat out “Do not be stupid, Aemond. Or think that ill of myself. Of course not”.

He laughed. And said her name in a quiet, a very quiet voice, with the most restrained manner possible. And then he said her name again, softly, sweetly. Soon enough, you were resting your head on his extended legs, hugging them tightly, as he stroked your hair. Breathing became an unconscious action after some time, and your eyes and heart began to feel tired after the crying.

“I wished to do nothing more than to help”.

“I know, Darling. And it was a brilliant move.” He took a breath before continuing his confession, having finally decided to be honest to her, despite how much he loved her respect “But the truth is, despite your high opinion of me, is that I have no real power on the council. It is a smart move, but it is not doable, Love. I cannot do it. I do not have the political capability, or my brother the sense to listen”.

As soon as he said it, he felt like a whole month of fog and rain finally had cleared. The Prince did not know why it had been so hard. And the fact of the matter was that she already knew that. And yet they had both traveled to the North, as an act of Faith for one another, and as an attempt to escape the horrors of their incapacities. They were full of magnificent illusions. What the Princess might not have been aware of, is that the situation had made evident to her husband that change was necessary. Not only for him, but for his wife as well.

“Sometimes I forget that we are at the mercy of others”. He laughed, after all, he often forgot too.

“The Blacks are most likely to support his fantastical crusade. But at least we can now know for certain that we will lose the North. That must give us some time for preparation”.

“Thank you for coming with me, Aemond. I really am grateful”. Her husband wasn’t sure if she meant it for listening to her, for coming to the North, or for the conversation they just had, but by the time the conversation was over, she was sitting straight again, but with her head now resting on his shoulder.

That morning, at breakfast, he heard her laugh again, only this time, it was with him. She smiled at him for the first time, without any irony or jabs, it seemed like a burden was lifted from her chest, from their marriage.

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Notes: This is it folks! This is the first chapter (and my favorite) i ever wrote on this series. I got the idea while i was bored watching gladiator 2 (Ik). It has been plaguing my head ever since. This is a long one but I hope you can enjoy it!

-Sidey xxo

#prince aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd s2 #hotd spoilers #hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #hotd #one eyed aemond #ewan mitchell

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wexhappyxfew · 27 days ago

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shannon!! so i’m a little late to the show BUT i would love alllll the backstory for judy!! i love her sosososo much and will enjoy anything you want to share about her!! tysm 🫶🏻🌻

jj!!!! hi and HELLOOOOO!!!!! i will *happily* spill all i can about some judy background! my sweet bean! i fear im about to yap and there’s no stopping haha! THANK YOU! <3

JUDY R. RYBINSKI

(b. 1922) AGE: 21

Judith R. Rybinski, better known as Judy by her crew, joins the USAAF at the age of 20, in order to get out of the life she grew up in, get some experience in the world, and to do something for the war effort. From the little town of Hot Springs, North Carolina, she grew up in a time where there wasn't a lot of money or food on the table for their large family of 9. This lifestyle really harbored the need for building the foundations of determination, grit and resilience. As one of the oldest of all her siblings, with her father and mother constantly doing whatever they could to bring in as much money as they could, Judy found herself constantly in the position of taking care of her siblings - whether it was waking them up, preparing a meal, getting them out of the door to school, or putting them to bed.

Alongside this, she was helping in any way she could to take care of the struggling family-farm that had been there for generations. This included livestock, crops, and taking what they could from the farm to sell at the market whenever they could. Judy found herself out-of-place when she'd have to go to school, seeing herself compared to the other girls in town - their pretty dresses, delicious-looking lunches, the books they had at their disposal. She would always say that she was lucky to have what she had - a family that worked hard, a family that cared for her and each other, plenty of siblings and experiences and stories to tell. Yet, she felt like she was stuck - like she'd stay on this farm and never get to leave.

A few anons and I last summer really dug into Judy's character here - especially the impacts of her background on her present character (the #judy rybinski tag is filled with this stuff! shoutout to those lovely people!). Not only did the Rybinski family not have a lot of money, leading Judy to grow up fairly poor, but she also grew up very sheltered. The oldest child of the family, Judy's older brother, Antony, was usually incredibly protective of Judy and the rest of their siblings. Whenever she went to town for her job, he'd walk her to and from, made sure she was in at curfew at night and if there were any sort of suspicious people around - Antony was usually close by.

In this way, she hasn't had a lot of experiences with love - some of my previous asks on Judy focus on her lack of romantic experiences - which really is a reflection on why she is the way she is around Rosie. We know she has a crush on him throughout a good portion of first meeting him and interacting with him, and we see how she really doesn't know what to do with these feelings long after. But they're there and she feels them and they are incredibly real to her.

I suspect for Judy this has a lot to do with growing up in the South in the 1930s, combined with the changing times, a woman's role, and a man's perspective of that. The It's Your Fight Too posters hung up around town pulled her towards the war (along with many other women just like her). Her parents were most hesitant if anything; Antony was more supportive, but cautious - his 20-year-old sister wanting to fight in a war?

A lot of surface-level characteristics of Judy focus on her joy, her happiness, her hope and usual 'cup half-full mentality'. But underneath that is a lot of foundations we've previously explored, that have since been built up because of her childhood and upbringing. She's mentally very strong, especially being one of the youngest of the Silver Bullets crew, and always is one of the first people to look on the positive side. This coincides with her constant will to live. When she was younger, her father had taught her and Antony how to do just about anything they needed to survive in the wilderness. She knows how to shoot multiple types of guns (thanks to hunting with her dad and Antony - leading to her roll as a turret gunner), along with stake a tent, strip different animals for food, start a fire, go fishing, and equally be resourceful. Her father grew up in Appalachia all his life and really took these qualities and instilled them into his own children.

Having the presence of her father and mother, though stressed and working as much as they could when she was a child, really helped to allow her to grow, even in hard times. She had a trusting and loving family and sometimes, you don't always hear these types of stories from those struggling. But with Judy, it allowed her to take those steps away from home, to experience something new as well as meet new people!

Through developing Judy and the other Silver Bullets girls, there's the slightly fleshed-out backstory of how each of the SB girls came to be on the crew. Of course, before Annie Bradshaw, there was Captain Birdie Faulkner who handpicked the crew in training. And when it came to turret ball gunner, Judy was one of the first picks for Birdie. It is surmised that Birdie thought Judy to be a "Young, bright, and caring young woman, who had the will to fight and survive coursing through her body, along with an underlying wildness about her that gave a hand to her survival instincts and intelligence with a gun." She also was pretty short and small - someone who could fit easily into a turret ball as well as know how to work in all at once. Judy would credit Birdie for getting her to the war there after.

What's fun about Judy is that, she's sort of become a main character herself? I didn't really expect her to, especially after I decided why not pair her with Rosie Rosenthal? But, she's really become a character people can see themselves in, confide in, find comfort in and really want to protect with their lives. Which genuinely makes me so so happy!!! :)

I could absolutely go into even more depth with any part of this backstory for Judy, but she's been such a pleasure and joy to write. And thank you to everyone who has loved on her and willed yourself to protect her! <3 I TOO WANT TO LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR JUDY RYBINSKI!!!! Thank you again for this ask, JJ! This was a lot of fun! :)

ALSO - Cailee Spaeny is no official face claim, but every time I see gifs or interviews of anything, I can see it as Judy. SO - that's why she appears in the little image heading above! :D

THANK YOU ALL!!!

#shoutout to judy for being iconic fr #she's sm fun truly :)#and thank you jj for sending this in! I HAD SM FUN!!!!#i'd love to continue to dig more into judy's character - why she is the way she is #all that good stuff #it's my favorite part of writing #what makes a person tick #how does their background influence their present self and decisions #ITS GREATTT #judy rybinski #silver billets #mota writings #judy u icon! <3 #YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!

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theflyindutchwoman · 2 years ago

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I have wanted for quite some time to dissect the door imagery that has been present a lot this season in regards to Chenford. And Chenfordsource just inspired me to dig into this with this amazing gifset. As you may know, in literature or cinematography, a door can often be used as an allegory. Mostly to symbolise a new beginning or a barrier to overcome. Now this isn't the first time that a door is used symbolically in Tim and Lucy's relationship : the door-to-door scene in the quarantine house is iconic for a reason. But since their practice kiss, with Tim standing on the other side of Lucy's door, still reeling, it has been an ongoing motif. One that seems to have been used as a metaphor to show the status and progress of their relationship.

In Double Down (5.01), there are two major moments involving a door. The first one happens in the hotel room in Vegas, when Lucy goes to the bathroom and leaves the door ajar, breaking Tim's brain a bit more in the process. And just like she tried to shut that bathroom door, she tries to shut down his attempt to discuss their feelings… Which brings us to the second moment : the one outside her apartment. Where she invites Tim in and where he crosses both a literal and figurative threshold (the difference in the lighting when Lucy opens the door is perfect). It may not be a new beginning per se, but this moment still marks a turning point in their relationship. In Labor Day (5.02), they are right back outside that door, in the hallway, any progress from the previous episode seemingly undone. Interestingly enough, the door to her place stays open the whole time : Lucy is the one trying to open up this time and start the conversation about them but Tim stops her. Note the lingering shot of Tim walking away in the hallway : in terms of allegory, a hallway can be used as a device to show a longer transition to arrive to that new beginning. And this is exactly how it feels here : things are changing but it's going to take some time.

And during this limbo, we encounter two very different doors, that are used to reinforce the theme of Tim as a protector. The first door, in Dye Hard (5.03), resembles more one of a prison, with Lucy being stuck behind it. The same way she is imprisoned metaphorically by Rosalind and the threat she represents. And the same way Tim was the one to free her from that barrel in Day of Death, he's the one who manages to open the door - by sheer force. But they were still separated by the door at first (and Lucy couldn't get away faster if she tried). This is when they are at their lowest point. On the other hand, the second one, in The Collar (5.08), is used as a shield with both of them standing together : Tim gets Lucy to safety behind their shop's door, protecting her against any potential shrapnel. This is also when their relationship is almost back to normal and close to finally move forward.

Now in Take Back (5.09), we go back to the original imagery of the door, with that shot of Lucy standing alone in her apartment, door open. The message couldn't be clearer here : with Chris leaving, it leaves the door wide open for Chenford. And it's also worth noting that the next time we see Tim and Lucy, at the station, she is the one crossing a threshold (Grey's office). New beginnings.

The motif could have stopped there… But it doesn't. In Death Notice (5.12), we see Tim knocking at Lucy's door : this is right before they start discussing the last obstacle they are facing - the chain of command. The second this issue is solved - and they move to the next stage of their relationship (intimacy) - her entrance door is no longer used as a barrier of some sort between them. They either enter together (5.22) or he lets himself in because he has the key (5.14). Not only that, but the imagery of the door is now used in a more traditional setting : to block outsiders from entering or catching intimate moments, as shown in 5.12 (with her bedroom's door, which is also put to good use) and in 5.21 (with the laundry room). And notice how she is no longer asking him if he wants to come in, she simply tells him to lock the door. We've come full circle...

#I probably missed some other moments but those were the ones that really struck me #The rookie #Chenford #Lucy Chen #Tim Bradford #Meta Analysis

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tmnt-tychou · 2 years ago

Photo

Previous shorts from this AU:

“Branded”

“The Pitt Boss”

This AU is meant for adult audiences and is not a happy, fluffy story. If you are easily triggered, this story/AU is not for you. Read at your own discretion.

The Favored

A Battle Nexus AU short

The last rule that Master Splinter had ever given them was this: never allow themselves to be separated from their brothers. Leaving the dojo, they were told to watch out for one another, protect each other. Always stay together, no matter what.

They were young then. They didn't understand the importance of their sensei's words at the time. The wisdom of his warning became clear far too quickly. Every bad thing that happened to them happened when they were alone. It was a lesson all of them had to learn the hard way. Now, in their thirtieth year, the turtle brothers stuck to each other like glue. But there still had to be exceptions to the rule.

The Daimyo had summoned Leonardo to the palace. He had no choice but to obey. Opportunities to curry favor with the magistrate were rare. The Daimyo was known to be fickle. So to reject any invitation was unwise and would most assuredly earn his ire—if not his fury.

As such, Leonardo allowed himself to be escorted from the cell he shared with his brothers in the pits. The three stood at the door, silently watching him leave with wary eyes. He was taken to the palace—as had happened before. Usually, this meant the Diamyo was hosting one of his large, extravagant parties. As he had become accustomed to, Leonardo was taken in through the back entrance where he was bathed and then dressed in silk robes. Far more proper attire to go before his lord.

He sat on his knees patiently as he was adorned with blue paint, the color he wore in battle. In the arena, it was slapped over him in sloppy patterns with a dry, stiff brush. Here, the palace staff neatly drew delicate patterns upon his skin to pretty him up. To cover all the scars. As he was escorted down the servant hallways, he passed a mirror. The paint always made him look too feminine, too delicate. But he supposed that was what had been requested.

The party was already in full swing when Leonardo was led into the lavish room. A feast on long tables adorned the fall wall. A group of musicians played lively tunes while guests from many different lands danced and chatted happily with one another. Everything was lavish, plush, fresh. Leonardo was gristled, torn, damaged. He didn't belong in a place like this. Yet, his presence was requested nearly every time an even like this occured.

A guard remained on either side of him, watching his every move. No one announced his entrance. No one paid him any mind. Leonardo didn't expect them to. Though he was here by the Daimyo's invitation, he was under no misconception that he was any sort of guest. If anything, he was more like the entertainment.

The two guards remained on either side as Leonardo presented himself to the Daimyo, seated on his throne. He was an absolute mountain of a man, towering over all his subjects when he stood. Hair that used to be a fiery red—as fiery as his temper—was now nearly stark white with age. Leonardo knelt humbly before the lord, eyes lowered. His Magesty nodded in approval. No other Battle Nexus warrior—no matter how many victories he claimed—had ever been invited to the palace. It wasn't their place. The warriors were dangerous, feral. Some were even criminals.

But Leonardo, the leader of his champion team, had become favored of the Daimyo. Unlike many of his fellow fighters, he was educated, well-spoken, as well as polite and respectful. This caught the attention of not just the ruler of this land, but others in positions of power. And when Leonardo stood to face the party, many of the guests were pleased to see him.

As was expected of him, he walked into the crowd and talked politely to anyone who approached. Diplomats, politicians, the rich and influential. They knew him by name. Everyone did. He was famous in his own way. They told him of the matches they had seen of him and his brothers in the Battle Nexus. Leonardo always graciously thanked them for their praise and for their attendance. It was always expected of him to encourage attendance and patronage of the arena. Though to him, it made no difference. He would have to fight, no matter who came.

The party guests always approached him carefully at first, then they would crowd closer as Leonardo spoke in soft, polite tones. They would get bolder and more drunk as the night went on. They would forget he was a warrior; they would forget he was a killer. An animal kept in a cage, only brought out to fight and entertain. His clean robes and beautiful body paint were his disguise. And they were all easily fooled.

They would touch him, tentative at first, then boldly. His paint would be smudged by the end of the night by inebriated party guests who wanted to see what a turtle mutant's skin and shell felt like. They never asked, they just touched. And Leonardo had to allow it. Men and woman both would ask him inappropriate questions about his body and his relationship with his brothers and other fighters. Sometimes they would try to coax or even order him to take off his robes. Leonardo would always have to be charming and coy. He would have to dance out of awkward topcis and steer them back to polite conversation.

And then, when they were done touching and taking up his space, they would want him to put on a show. Someone would suggest the captain of the Battle Nexus Champion team show them why he deserved that title. They would want to see a demonstration of his skill and prowess. Someone always suggested it in a joking voice. Then another would agree as if it were such a novel thing. But Leonardo knew it always ended this way. And the guards who kept a sharp eye on him were always prepared.

Then, the most unheard of thing would happen. He would be given a pair of swords. Beautiful, ornate weapons with blue ribbons trailing delicately from the hilts. The kind of caliber he had only ever touched in the palace. A far cry from the dingy, blood-stained hunks of metal they gave the fighters in the ring.

With swords in hand, he would kindly request a generous amount of space before the throne. The Daimyo always had a front row seat in the show. The party went quiet as the band stopped their jovial strumming and the flutist would begin with a slow, haunting melody. And then, Leonardo would dance.

It was the only part he enjoyed. The music filled him, moved him. He could block out all the silent eyes watching and sink into his own world. A world of motion, strength and grace. He floated over the floor in a series of complicated katas, punctuated with kicks, spins and flips. The beautiful blades he held sang their own song as they cut through the air, going faster and faster. Leonardo was granted a small moment where he was only full of flight and music. Where he could pretend his hands weren't stained with blood, his body covered in scars. That he was free.

As he danced, all eyes were on him, and his attention was turned inward. But a motion caught his eye. An extra person up by the throne where no one else should be. Leonardo was already in motion, his body in its deadly dance, blades in his hand. A high jump, a spin, and one of the swords flew out of his hand with deadly precision.

It shot directly toward the Daimyo and embedded itself in the wood support beam next to his head. The long, delicate blade vibrated from the impact as everyone gasped. The Daimyo looked at his fighter—his property—with rage that his prize fighter would ever dare to do such a thing. Then he heard the wet gurgle behind him. He looked to see a female feline mutant, one of the servers at the party, was pinned by the sword, the blade going into her neck. Blood dribbled down her furry throat as she looked at the Daimyo with hate and rage. As she sucked in her last breath, a small knife that had been meant for the Daimyo himself fell from her hand and clattered on the floor.

Everyone was staring at everyone else in wide eyes. An attempt on the Daimyo's life and no one had been watching. In his own home by one of his own servants.

With rage, the Daimyo yanked out the blood-soaked blade and stared with fire at Leonardo. The party guests were dead quiet and even backing away further. They were all suddenly reminded that this turtle in their midst was no party guest, no entertainer, but a trained killer.

With the Daimyo's heated stare upon him, Leonardo immediately lowered his gaze and dropped to one knee in humble servitude. The crowd parted as the Daimyo descended the stairs, sword still dripping blood in his hand. Leonardo kept his gaze low and head down as the much larger man towered over him. The lord's shadow covered him, blocking out the light.

“You...you have just saved my life,” the Daimyo said with wonder in his voice.

Leonardo had taken no pleasure in killing a fellow mutant, especially one who wasn't a trained fighter. He understood the hate mutants had for the lord of this land. He understood how they were all mere property to the Daimyo and his subjects. But her death would have been for more gruesome, more painful, if she had lived to be arrested for her crime.

“I am your servant and your protector, Highness,” he said humbly.

“For what you have done, I grant you one favor. I will take you out of the Battle Nexus. I will give you a job in my palace. I will make you one of my personal guards, if you wish it.”

A murmur rose from the crowd. Anyone could end up in the Battle Nexus, but no one got out of it. It was the very last stop for anyone caught in its hold.

“I...I thank you for your generous offer, Highness,” Leonardo said carefully. His heart raced in fear. “But I cannot accept. I cannot leave my brothers.”

The Daimyo frowned. “You reject my favor? You reject a gift from your Daimyo?”

The murmurs rose up.

Leonardo bent down lower, prostrate on the ground. His forehead touched the floor in submission. He tried his best to keep the shaking out of his voice.

“I require no reward for your protection. It is my duty, my honor, to be of service. I humbly request to stay with my family and to bring you glory with my team.”

The Daimyo looked down at the shell of the mutant below him and the anger slowly seeped out of him.

“Very well. If this is your wish, I will allow it. You may return to your brothers.”

Though no one else could see, Leonardo closed his eyes and sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

By now, it was clear the party would not continue as guards were already dragging the dead mutant away, leaving a trail of blood. The Daimyo told his turtle subject to rise and then gave him a dismissive motion. Guards approached to relieve Leonardo of his remaining sword and to escort him out of the party. He was more than happy to leave.

But he didn't get too far from the party when a male voice followed him out.

“Leonardo.”

That voice crawled up his shell like a spider and he had to fight not to cringe and frown.

“Your Highness,” he said with deference as he turned around

The Daimyo's son leaned against the wall, his frame tall and lean. His expression always slightly disingenuous. He had been at the party and often in Leonardo's line of sight. Most likely on purpose. Leonardo had pretended to never notice him. “Quite a show you gave us out there. You scared a few of the ladies. I think they had forgotten how dangerous you can be.”

“Your father was almost killed,” the turtle reminded. “I did what I had to do.”

“Yes, how lucky for him you were there.” He sounded very unconcerned that he had nearly lost his parent that night. “Too bad the party had to end early. I'm going to keep the festivities going elsewhere with some friends. You must join us.”

Leonardo set his jaw. All he wanted was to go back to his brothers, but the prince waved the guards away. Leonardo watched them go with a sinking in his chest. He wanted to leave with them. He wanted to be out of this place.

The Daimyo's son slid up to him, slipped a finger under his chin to turn the turtle's ice blue eyes up at him.

“You will come with me,” the prince grinned. An order, not a request. And it was just as dangerous to ignore his invitation as it was his father's.

He leaned down to claim the mutant's mouth. Kissed the fighter without fear. Pressed his body into the firm plastron and ran his hands over solid muscle, mussing the body paint even more.

Leonardo allowed it. He had no other choice.

***************

On nights like this, the brothers never slept, even though the morning would come all too soon and it would be back to heavy training. There would be no sleep if one of them was missing.

In the waning hours of the night, a dispassionate and tired Leonardo was escorted back to his cell and locked inside with his brothers. The other three greeted him in relief. Though he had been returned to them every time, there was always that fear that one day they would never see him again.

He was back in his old, threadbare clothes with a few smears of blue body paint still on his arms and face. More often than not, he would return from the palace smelling like other people. The scent of so many other people all over him. Some smells stronger than others. One smell in particular was always there.

Raphael remembered the first time Leonardo was returned to them, smelling of strangers and looking so hollow inside. He was never one who liked to be touched. That aversion made him sharper and faster in the arena. But that night, he had curled up against Michelangelo and shoved his snout in his brother's neck, desperate to smell something familiar.

The first few times, he had talked about the palace, about the parties and what it was like. After that night, the night when he looked so hollow, he never talked about it again. The brothers never asked. They already knew. And they would let their proud, fearless brother curl up against them on the nights when he came back, covered in the stink of everything non-mutant and non-turtle. They would let him smell their familiar smell until he no longer felt like he was going to throw up from the stench of it. They would curl up around him so he would smell like them instead. Like reptiles and dank, musty cells. It wasn't a home, but it was what smelled safe to all of them.

That night, instead of merely resting against his brothers to sleep, Leonardo was extra clingy. Raphael grunted as he was practically in a hug from his brother.

“Jeeze, Leo. You okay?”

Into his shoulder, Leonardo whispered. “I almost didn't make it back.”

The pile of turtles reacted like the coils of a snake, tightening around their team captain. Keeping him with them. Above all else, they had to adhere to their sensei's order. They always, always had to stay together.

Tag List: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @red-phoenixxx @leosgirl82 @dilucsflame33 @akesdraws-blog @happymoonangel @fluffytriceratops @beautifulfunanchor @asultrysiren

#tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #tmnt au #battle nexus au #my art

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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 1 year ago

Text

Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 3

Episode 16: Stuck in Two Holes

Swellview's greatest crime fighters were constantly out and about chasing down scum. It was in the job description; someone breaks the law, they sort them out after an epic battle, scum goes to prison, a job well done. But that wasn't tonight. Tonight, Captain Man and Kid Danger weren't going up against Doctor Minyak or The Toddler or anyone of evil, they were running after Jeff, the stupidest guy in Swellview.

"Where'd he go?" Henry yelled to Ray as they ducked and dodged the dumpsters that littered the backstreets of Swellview. For such a chubby guy, Jeff was pretty zippy on his feet and he was somehow managing to outstrip them as he made for an abandoned building.

"He went down the alley! Where are you, Jeff?!" Ray shouted as they marched down the dark alley and squinted for any movement. This was stupid, Jeff wasn't bright enough to evade capture for long and the more he ran, the more agitated the superheroes were getting.

"You're making it worse by running!" Henry added, hoping that the criminal would do the smart thing and give up. The problem was that Jeff didn't even know the meaning of smart and just moved his little legs faster.

"Shut up!" He snapped over his shoulder and jumped through the cracked window of the old movie rental place at the end of the alley. It would be a good hiding place if he had more than two brain cells, but the noise of the smashing glass told the superheroes exactly where he was.

"Come on!" "Let's get him!.. We saw you go in there, Jeff!" Ray and Henry ran faster towards the store, their words prompting Jeff to panic as he thought about what to do or more importantly, where to hide. He had no energy left to run, so the dusty old shelves full of cassette tape cases would have to do as his protection. The criminal cracked open an old tape and began to unravel the film inside, hoping that he could use it as cover or a distraction.

"All right, come on. Let's go in through the window." Henry panted as he and Ray peered through the smashed hole left by Jeff. It wasn't ideal, crawling through a load of sharp glass, but if it meant that they could get in, it would suit them just fine.

"Nah, let's use the door," Ray told him, preferring to walk into the building cooly in a manner that would be safer than squeezing through the small gap in the window. Jeff could surprise attack them or something if they were caught unawares and they were hoping for a clean, easy capture tonight.

"Door's probably gonna be locked," Henry argued, trying to get his boss to slow down and think about things. Usually, it was (y/n)'s job to keep him calm and sweet, but she'd been reluctant to come out that night, on the count that she was a tad depressed after turning thirty in the week. Sure, she'd had a big party with her friends and even some family, plus loads of presents but it was hard to say goodbye to her twenties. Since it was just a Jeff problem that night, Ray had allowed his sweet girl to stay at home with one of her cheesy rom-coms. If all went to plan, he'd be back with her in no time, if this moron complied that was.

"That's okay, I brought my foot." The large man quipped and swiftly kicked the door in, allowing him and his sidekick to enter the rental store with ease. Jeff had tucked himself behind one of the old security canners and held the film top over his face so they couldn't see him as easily and to be fair, it was a rather clever disguise.

"All right, Jeff. Where is your stupid...self?" Ray yelled, looking around for the idiot who had forced him away from his girl that night. He wasn't particularly interested in whether Heather and Michael get together after the Christmas Party as the movie trailer promised, but he was interested in snuggling up with his girlfriend and inevitably dragging her into a make-out session when he got bored. All that he gave up, just for dumb Jeff.

"AHHHHH!" The moron charged at him and wrapped the shiny tape around his neck and face. Jeff had hoped that the scratchy plastic would distract Captain Man long enough to let him escape, but it wasn't hard for Ray to just push him away and let Kid Danger deal with him.

"Will you quit it?!... I don't know how you escaped jail or why you jumped through that window, but—" The sidekick scolded Jeff, quickly getting him under control, sort of. Seeing that his first plan hadn't worked, the moron switched tactics and thought it was a brilliant idea to punch Henry in the nose. It was a pathetic blow, just enough to make the boy stagger back and enrage Ray, who wasn't about to watch his honorary little brother get beat up like that by someone so thick. "Jeff!"

"Owww, what happened to using our words, man?" Henry winced, wrinkling his nose as the dull ache spread through his face. It wasn't the worst pain he'd ever experienced, far from it, but that didn't mean he wasn't offended. Since when did Jeff cross lines like that?

"All right, you dopey thug, time for your nap!" Ray exclaimed and whipped his laser control from his belt so he could zap Jeff into a slumbering state. He wanted him to go down nice and simple, but when the green laser stung the delinquent's shoulder, all it did was burn him a bit. He didn't lose consciousness or get sleepy, he just groaned like a baby. "Owwwww! You bass-hat!"

"Wait, why did your laser not knock him out?!" Henry gasped as Jeff ran away to hide. Normally, their gadgets worked perfectly, so to have a malfunction was a tad worrying.

"I don't know." Ray shrugged, tucking it back into his belt in confusion whilst Jeff peeked over the shelves.

"It's 'cause I'm tough as butt, that's why! Ha!..Ow, you horse pile!"Jeff bragged, forcing Henry to try out his laser instead, but the same again, it just made the guy yelp.

"Wait, what's wrong with these things?" Henry tapped it against his palm, hoping that a bit of brute force would get the lasers to work. Damn, why was (y/n) never around when they needed her technical expertise? She would know what to do.

"I don't know, unless...did you forget to charge these last night like (y/n) told you to?" Ray hissed, suddenly remembering how she had notified the kid to hook up their lasers to their charging docks before he went home for the night. He would've done it or her, but he had been rather impatient to have her to himself and had dragged her off before they could check if the job had been completed properly.

"Uhh....well..." Henry stuttered. That would be a no, then. The lasers were burning up the very last of their energy supply, meaning that each shot was a quarter of its typical strength so taking down Jeff would be a lot harder than normal.

"Ha-ha!" The crook chuckled as he overheard how Captain Man and his young apprentice were completely unprepared for the battle and tried to run past them, only for the superheroes to shoot him again. Just because they weren't very strong, it didn't mean that the lasers weren't working; each shot zapped away a crumb of Jeff's strength, so cumulatively speaking, a gazillion lasers would knock him out...hopefully.

"How could you forget to charge the lasers?!" Ray reprimanded the teen, annoyed that they were now gonna have to work a lot harder when all he wanted to do was go home and have a quiet evening in front of the TV with (y/n).

"I was gonna charge the lasers but then you made me go get you a pumpkin-spiced latte, which you're obsessed with, whilst you loved it up with your girlfriend, who you're obsessed with too!" Henry argued back, not seeing how it was entirely his fault. Yeah, sure, he'd been given an important job, but no one could forget how whiny Ray got without his favourite coffee or when he was forced to leave his sweet girl's side.

"Yeah, well, you can't get pumpkin-spiced lattes all year round, y'know! It's a seasonal item! And so what if I "love it up" with my girlfriend?! You know she's been feeling like crap since her birthday." Ray frowned. He'd spent years wishing (y/n) would love him, even just a tiny bit, but now that his dreams had come true, everyone kept teasing him. Seriously, he couldn't win.

"All right, I'm sorry I didn't charge the lasers, okay?" Henry sighed, knowing that it was true. (y/n) had been feeling a bit down and he didn't blame Ray for trying to cheer her up. If he had a girlfriend, he'd probably have done the same.

"Oh, you're sorry? What if we'd been going after a real criminal, huh?" Ray proposed, gesturing to Jeff whose mouth dropped open in insult.

"Hey! I'm a real criminal!" He disputed, thinking that he caused enough general chaos around the city to be deemed a criminal. A petty criminal, but a criminal nonetheless.

"A real stupid one!" Henry yelled back, having had quite enough of his lip for one day. Jeff needed to know when to shut up.

"Ha, I'm stupid? You two are the ones with inadequate lasers." The guy laughed at them and made a fair point, even if it was jarring. The lasers were crap, but that didn't mean they were useless.

"Oh, that's it!" Ray exclaimed and he and Henry shot their lasers at Jeff to make him squeal. They weren't so inadequate now.

"Ow, quit it!" Jeff whined and collected an armful of leftover movie cases that he could use as projectiles. The hard plastic was good enough to throw at Captain Man and Kid Danger, who began to fire their lasers again as Jeff ran around the room, looking for an escape.

"Get him!" Ray shouted as the lawbreaker dodged them and hopped around the shelves. He even threw a bag of ceiling insulation at them, which was easily caught by Ray and plonked down as he tried to run away.

"Can't we just get some dinner or somethi--Ow!" Yeah, Captain Man didn't have dinner with criminals, especially not stupid ones. Jeff took a bunch of lasers to the torso, grunting from each one, and little by little, he was starting to feel drowsy.

"This is your fault, kid! Get him! Just get him, will you?!" Ray yelled as Jeff ducked between two shelves and one of the superhero's lasers went into Henry's eye. The idiot laughed at Kid Danger's pain but was soon met by soon angry zaps when his chuckles pissed the heroes off.

"Go down!" Captain Man ordered him as they kept firing, making Jeff yawn as he suddenly felt very sleepy. Oh good, the lasers were starting to do something.

"That one made me feel dizzy..." He slurred, beginning to get a little wobbly on his legs, but more shots were needed to make him truly lose consciousness.

"One more...and one more." Ray panted, leaving Henry to fire the last laser before Jeff slumped to the dusty floorboards.

"Aw, that did it." He mumbled as his knees gave in and he fell face first, snoring a little as he began to dream about whatever Jeff dreams about.

"Nice. Now, pick up all these movies and put 'em back on the shelves." Ray ordered Henry, not feeling like doing the task himself, but Henry couldn't understand why he would need to do that.

"What? Why?" He asked, thinking it was pointless since these movies had long been left to rot. No one cared about how the place looked, it was abandoned for a reason.

"Because it's our responsibility to leave this stuff the way we found it," Ray answered, thinking that even if no one cared, he didn't want to be sued for criminal damage. Lawsuits were the number one way to ruin his image and he couldn't have that.

"But this place had been abandoned since like the 1900s." The teen argued, exaggerating only a little bit. If (y/n) was there, she would've had a lot to say about that, having so many happy memories of going to movie rental places as a kid of the eighties/nineties.

"Just put the movies back on the shelves," Ray repeated. It was a simple enough instruction and the longer he complained about it, the later Henry would go home that night.

"But it's dangerous. This place is falling apart!" Henry whined, feeling anxious about how damp and worn some of the ceiling beams and floorboards were. With his and Ray's combined weight, they were on the verge of snapping and he didn't fancy being skewered.

"Movies on the shelves," Ray said again through gritted teeth.

"But...(y/n) wouldn't make me do it! She likes safety!" The boy changed his tune, hoping that by mentioning what his girlfriend would do, Ray would change his mind, but no.

"On the shelves!"

"But what about the--"

"Shelves!" This could take some time. Both of them were too stubborn to let up since they both thought they had the higher moral argument and with no (y/n) the referee, it went on and on and on.

"But (y/n)--"

"Shelves!"

"What about the--"

"Shelves!"

"Gah! Henry relented. He sighed in annoyance but saw that his arguing was getting them nowhere and he really wanted to go home sooner rather than later. As Ray began to reorganise a few movies on display, Henry started collecting the few scattered across the floor.

He had quite a few in his hands when he went to grab a movie about hamburgers or something and the floor began to make an ominous cracking noise. Before he could react (even with his super reflexes), Henry plunged through the floorboards, ending up unharmed, thank god, but completely immobilised as his arms were tightly pinned to his chest in the tight hole.

"Wha--" He gasped in shock, looking around momentarily before realising that he was well and truly stuck, just like he thought he would be when he was arguing only moments prior.

"Seriously? Now you wanna play?" Ray sighed as he turned around and saw his sidekick wriggling around in the hole. He just assumed that he was trying to be funny and didn't realise that they had a situation on their hands.

"I'm not playing! I fell through the stupid floor when I was picking up a VHS tape of Good Burger." Henry snapped, glancing at the copy of the old movie that brought back a lot of good memories for Ray.

"You found Good Burger? Where--ha! Oh my gosh, I love this movie! It was the first one (y/n) and I watched together after I hired her. Ha, welcome to Good Burger, home of the Good Burger--" In Ray's happy trip down memory lane, he didn't hear or feel the floor giving way beneath his feet until it was too late.

"Can I take your order?" He finished the jingle as Henry looked at him in irritation. Now, they were both in the same stupid position; totally, utterly, incomprehensibly stuck.

~The next day, in the Man Cave~

(y/n) had fallen asleep watching her movie that night, having assumed that Ray and Henry would return after a long, probably annoying fight with Jeff. She couldn't help but close her eyes after watching Michael chase Heather after the Christmas party and was blissfully ignorant to her boyfriend and friend's situation as she fixed her hair and makeup that morning before getting dressed. Yeah, it was a bit weird that she hadn't felt Ray crawl into bed that night or that he hadn't stayed in bed to try it on with her that morning like he usually did, but there was a first time for everything.

(Dunno, but I imagined this episode with an outfit like this, but you can choose something different if you like <3)

She walked down from the sprocket just as Jasper and Charlotte dropped down the tubes and the three were greeted by a very odd sight. For starters, the teens weren't meant to be working that day since Ray was nice enough to give them Sundays off and even stranger, Schwoz was sat in the middle of the room, wearing some leotard swimsuit thing, listening to music, bathing in a paddling pool full of...beans?

"What the hell?..." (y/n) breathed out as she took in the sight, sharing a confused look with Charlotte, but Schwoz wasn't phased. He thought being half-submerged in beans was normal.

"Hey, guys. Good morning, (y/n). What are you doing here on a Sunday?" He asked, looking from the kids to the woman, who couldn't help but throw in a sarky answer.

"I live here. Have you only just realised?" She joked, gesturing to the Man Cave's walls that called she called home. She was here seven days a week, hopefully for the rest of her life if everything went smoothly.

"No, them! Not funny!" The genius whined as the teens giggled at the young woman's silly comment, but focused on the question he'd clearly asked them.

"We're here to meet Henry," Jasper answered, circling the pool and looking at its content with a puzzled face. He had to admit, he was a bit weird at the best of times, but this traversed all levels of peculiarity.

"And, uh, what are you doing?" Charlotte asked, also looking at the beans in confusion. She shouldn't be surprised, not after working with Schwoz for so long.

"I'm taking a bean bath." He shrugged like it was nothing before picking up a large spoon and taking a mouthful of beans. It was honestly disgusting as the water that filled the beans were near his...everything. "Mmmm, good beans."

"Why do you have those fancy gun doohickeys?" (y/n) gestured to the pistols in the teen's hands. She wondered where on earth they were going with them, but she guessed that it was probably some young thing she was too old to understand. Stupid birthday making her turn thirty.

"We're going with Henry to the squirt gun range," Charlotte told her, spinning her water pistol around her finger. The whole day was gonna be so fun, well, it would be if they ever found Henry.

"Yeah, where is Henry?" Jasper frowned and looked to (y/n) since she was typically with Ray and he had been out on duty with the kid last night. Henry hadn't been at home, so they'd automatically assumed that he'd come to work for some reason, but judging by (y/n)'s blank face, the news wasn't good.

"I haven't seen him. Schwoz, have you seen Henry?" She looked at the small man who was playing with his beans (not a euphemism), totally uncaring to the gravity of the situation.

"He and Ray went to capture Jeff yesterday and never came back." He replied, digging through his food as (y/n) practically went into a breakdown and Charlotte and Jasper stared at each other with open mouths.

"And you're not worried?" The teen girl snapped as (y/n) mussed up her perfectly groomed hair by worriedly raking her hands through it. Oh god, she'd just thought Ray would come back like he always did, she couldn't fathom the idea that something terrible had happened to him whilst she was sleeping like an idiot.

"I'm worried. I'm very worried. I knew I should've stayed up last night, god! I'm so stupid, I should've stayed up, I always stay up. Why didn't I stay up and make sure he came back? Shit, shit, shit!" (y/n) panted, hyperventilating at the thought of her boyfriend and Henry being tortured or worse, killed by a villain. Sure, they went after Jeff, but what if they'd run into trouble?

"Hey, could you guys grab that bucket of beans and pour it over my body?" Schwoz requested, spreading his arms and legs out like a starfish. He didn't realise that he was being necessarily cold and unkind, causing (y/n)'s temper to flare as Charlotte tried to keep her calm.

"No!"

"Gross!" She and Jasper grimaced whilst (y/n) pulled out her phone and looked to see if Ray had sent her any S.O.S messages. Admittedly, she hadn't looked at her texts that morning and felt awful that she'd been in la-la land, thinking about how she'd missed morning sex with Ray when he could be in real danger.

"Charlotte, call Henry. I'll call Ray after you." She instructed the girl, who was already on it, scrolling through her contacts until she saw Henry's goofy face.

"Come on, Henry, answer..." She mumbled, pacing around whilst the annoying chime rang in her ear. It was ringing, but judging from how long it was taking Henry to answer, he wasn't going to.

~Beta Maximus Movie Rentals~

Henry and Ray weren't dead, not yet anyway. The older man desperately needed to pee, his bladder was excruciatingly full, whilst Henry was suffering from an empty stomach. He wasn't quite on the brink of death but that didn't mean it wasn't uncomfortable.

"Come on, kid! Can't you reach your phone?" Ray snapped as his sidekick's phone started to vibrate in front of him. It was tantalisingly close but just out of his reach, teasing them by showing how help was so close but so far away.

"No. I can't reach my phone, I'm in a hole. You know that." Henry replied in an eerily calm voice. He was beyond pissed off with the situation, any humour surrounding their predicament dissipating after they reached the ten-hour point. They struggled against the wood pressing their arms tightly to their chests, just as Ray's phone began to ring in his pocket.

"So hungry," Henry mumbled as Ray sighed sadly. He didn't even have to hear the ringtone to know that it was his sweet girl wondering where he was and it broke his heart to think about her panicking. He knew he'd be the same if she didn't come home after a night out and could only imagine how frantic her nerves were making her.

"Yeah, well, I have to pee and my girlfriend is in the Man Cave freaking out about why I haven't come home." The superhero hissed, thinking that he had it much worse than Henry did.

"Well, I'd much rather have to pee than be hungry." The boy retorted, rationalising that a need to be was temporary and easy to solve, whilst hunger was a bit trickier.

"You're wrong," Ray murmured in a funny voice that made his sidekick question whether he heard him correctly. "I'm--I'm wrong?"

"Peeing is greater than hunger." Ray clarified, even though secretly he thought that having a panicking girlfriend was much graver than either of them; more so when said girlfriend was known to naturally be a bit nervous, even if she had come on leaps and bounds in the last couple of years.

"Okay, look man, if you have to pee so bad, why don't you pee, all right? Just pee." Henry told his boss, who repulsed the idea. Henry wouldn't judge him but the idea just seemed so gross, what would (y/n) think?

"In my captain pants? That (y/n) has to clean?" He gasped at the notion and then shuddered at the thought of having to shyly admit what he'd done to his precious girl. She'd run a mile if she found out that he, a grown man, had wet himself.

"Yeah, why not?" Henry shrugged, not seeing why he was making such a fuss, but then again, he never knew how much of a worrier Ray was on the inside, especially when it came to how (y/n) saw him.

"You're sick." Ray hissed, throwing the idea out completely as he was sure that it would lead to nothing but humiliation and heartbreak.

"I don't think I'm sick." The blond boy replied. He believed that when you have to go, you have to go and (y/n) was way too in love with Ray to care about something so unbelievably, not his fault. She wouldn't mind, he was sure of it.

"Think again. Your whole generation is just...messed-up sick!" Captain Man growled, getting a little tetchy from how badly his bladder was cramping, how his heart was yearning for its soulmate and how after twelve, stinking hours, he was still trapped in the same fucking hole.

"You know, when you generalise..." Henry sighed, looking at Ray with a tired expression. All night he'd had to put up with this baby and he was starting to contemplate giving the young woman back at the base a medal for services rendered to the rest of society.

"Yeah?"

"You tell...general lies." Henry finished rather poetically, which just aggravated Ray, even more, not to mention Jeff, who was still unconscious behind them and snoring away soundly.

"AHHHH! I can't take it! I can't take Jeff's snoring anymore! Urghhhhhh!" Ray screamed, straining against the floorboards that were holding him captive, but they still wouldn't budge, not even with his super strength.

"I know, I know!" Henry quietened him in a way that (y/n) so often did; empathising with him and letting him see that he understood how he felt. "Let's yell at the same time."

"Good idea, maybe that'll wake him up. On three?" Ray nodded, liking the sound of them working together to make as much noise as possible.

"Yeah. One..." Henry counted them in and just after reaching two, they began to yell at the top of their voices. "JEFF! JEFF! JEFF! JEFF ONE! JEFFFFFF! JEFF JEFF! JEFFFF!" It wasn't a resounding success. The moronic criminal barely heard their shouts and merely rolled over onto his back so he could continue dreaming.

"I'm so hungry." Henry started it again, wishing he'd eaten a larger meal before going on duty last night. Maybe then he wouldn't keep saying the same stuff over and over again.

"I'm so pee-filled and I miss my girlfriend..." Ray sniffled, wishing more than anything that someone, anyone knew where they were so they could come help and luckily for him, that's just what was happening.

~Back in the Man Cave~

Whilst Charlotte and (y/n) were frantically tracking Ray and Henry's location on the supercomputer, Jasper was becoming more and more confused with Schwoz's bathing habits.

"Are you adding rice to your bean bath?" The teen boy exclaimed, watching as the genius used his spoon to sprinkle grains of rice over his beans.

"Yeah! What like I'm the first person in the world to mix rice and beans?!" He asked rhetorically, thinking his method wasn't weird, even though it definitely was. Schwoz was so special.

"Oh my god! Hey, hey, hey, I think we've found Ray and Henry!" (y/n) yelled to Jasper as the computer finally triangulated the superheroes location. Thank god their phones were still working, otherwise, they'd be lost forever.

"It looks like they're in that old store that used to rent movies," Charlotte told her friend, who had only vaguely heard about the store since it had closed long before he was born. "Beta Maximus?!"

"Yeah, that's the one." (y/n) nodded, quickly pulling out her phone and punching the address into her phone so she could find out exactly where they were going. All they needed now was a method of getting there.

"Hey, (y/n). Could you come over here please and help me--" Schwoz began, hoping he could get a little assistance in rubbing some beans and rice on his back. Why he would want that (y/n) didn't know but she did know that she wasn't going to help him in any way, shape or form.

"Schwoz, get this into your stupid head...NO!" She snapped, looking back down at her phone whilst Charlotte video called the police. Clearly, she didn't have much experience with Swellview cops and how incompetent they were.

"Swellview Police, what's your emergency?" An officer answered the call in a foul mood, but Charlotte brushed over it since she had a genuine crisis.

"You need to send a squad team to the old movie rental store in south Swellview, Beta Maximus." She told him quickly. However, the cop squinted at his screen and saw that this girl was young and probably immature, so he wasn't inclined to see the big deal. "Why? That place has been closed since the 1900s."

"Geez, make me feel old, man. I'm only thirty!" (y/n) grumbled under her breath, rolling her eyes at how stupid this man was. He was a prime example of how crap the police were.

"I know! But I heard that Captain Man and Kid Danger are there and I think there's big trouble." Charlotte carried on, trying to seem as worried as possible, but not even her best panic face could sway the cop. He was just too sceptical and too tired of teenage pranksters messing him about.

"Okay...I get it." He sighed, making the three listening to the call frown. "Uh, you get what?"

"You're a teenager, you're dumb and you're bored! So, you're prank-calling the police." The man insinuated, which deeply offended Charlotte. She would never do something so reckless and immature, her mother would kill her, not to mention Ray would probably fire her.

"Uh, no, sir, I'm just--" She tried to calm him down, glancing up at (y/n) with concerned eyes to which the woman just shrugged. This was why Captain Man and his sidekicks were always super busy, the police didn't believe anyone calling for help.

"You know, irritating a police officer is a felony!" The cop stated, making the woman snort from amusement. It was bullshit, made up with the intent of scaring a girl into hanging up. "I don't think that's true."

"Never call back here! Never!" Charlotte panicked as the policeman ended the call, leaving her and her friends stuck without any official help or decent manpower. Now, it was just two kids and their boss's girlfriend trying to save the superheroes.

"He hung up on me!" Charlotte exclaimed indignantly, feeling like strangling that good-for-nothing cop, but they didn't have time to hunt him down.

"Forget it, they're always useless. We'll just have to figure out something else. Schwoz, can you drive me, Jasper and Charlotte to Beta Maximus?" (y/n) turned to the handyman, who was reluctant to help out his boss because they had sort of, fallen out.

"For why?" He asked with a frown, wondering why on earth the woman would want to go to such a dilapidated shithole.

"For to help Ray and Henry," Charlotte replied. Honestly, why was he so unbothered? Did he want them to be tortured and die slow, painful deaths?

"...No!" Schwoz flat out refused, turning his nose up in the air as he remembered what Ray had told him a couple of days ago. He wasn't helping that man until he gave him what he wanted or apologised or both, not that his friends saw it that way.

"No? What the hell do you mean no?" (y/n) questioned angrily, her temper darkening when she heard how he was essentially willing to let Ray and Henry, who was just a kid, sit in the movie store and fend for themselves. It was so cruel and heartless.

"Last week, I asked Ray for a raise. You remember what he said to me?" The little man glared at her, but she just gave him a bored expression in return. That's what this was about? God, she worked with children, stupid, immature children and the biggest one was him!

"I vaguely remember but go on." She said flatly, putting her hands on her hips so she wasn't tempted to punch him in the face for being so self-centred.

"He said, why don't you raise your hand and slap your face with it?" Schwoz explained. Honestly, Ray's answer was pretty funny and it was just how he was. If he wanted a raise, (y/n) would persuade her boyfriend to give him one; there was no need for so much aggro.

"Then he laughed. It was humiliating." Schwoz sulked at their giggles, sinking further into his bean bath. Well, he wasn't going to help.

"I've never gotten a raise, but whatever, dickhead. We can handle this ourselves, we'll just have to figure out another way of getting to Beta Maximus." (y/n) turned her back on him and looked at the kids for any suggestions.

"Can't you drive us?" Jasper asked, recalling how she could drive a car pretty well, but judging by the way she got all sheepish and nervous, no dice.

"I can drive, pretty well actually, it's just that...I sort of don't have a license." She muttered, shuffling from one foot to the other as she admitted the rather embarrassing truth.

"What? Why?" Charlotte frowned, wondering why someone so eager to learn and go places, not to mention the whole superhero thing, hadn't taken a simple test to allow her to drive.

"I don't know, I just always stayed in here and when I needed to go places, Ray would drive me and this isn't helping us!" The young woman exclaimed as she realised they were getting off course. Her inability to adult was a story for another day, right now, they needed to get halfway across town and fast.

"Well, how are gonna handle--" Jasper paused mid-sentence as her phone began to ring and he panicked when he saw that it was Mr Hart on the line, most likely wondering where his son was.

"It's Henry's dad!" He hissed to the girls, who gulped at the thought of lying to a man about the whereabouts of his child. They didn't want to worry him by saying they didn't know if Henry was safe or not, but then again, they couldn't lie well enough to convince him otherwise.

"Oh, man! He's probably looking for Henry!" Charlotte whimpered and rubbed her hands together in worry. The last thing they needed was Mr Hart coming to Junk-N-Stuff.

"What are we supposed to say?! We can't tell him that Henry's possibly dead or kidnapped or lost or whatever!" (y/n) gestured to the phone and raked her hands through her hair.

"No worries, I've got this!" Jasper smiled at them and answered the call in a chirpy voice, which faltered when Henry's dad's worried ranting came blaring out of the speaker. Okay, this was going to be hard. "Hey, Mr Hart...uhhhhh...please hold!"

"Yeah, you got that good!" Charlotte retired sarcastically as she heard how Jasper had just added to the problem.

"Jasper, hand me your phone." Schwoz sighed and reached for the boy's cell. Well, at least he was interested in being helpful now.

"What are you up to?" (y/n) asked, to which Schwoz just shushed her and dug through some drawers near his paddling pool. Obviously, he was looking for something and (y/n) grinned when he pulled out a weird circle of metal that went on his head. So that's what he was up to.

"Testing one, two, three. This little Henry went to market, this little Henry stayed home. This little Henry ate a chicken breast, chicken breast, chicken breast. I'm Henry Hart and I ate a chicken breast." After the world's weirdest rhyme, the headband altered Schwoz's voice so he sounded exactly like Henry and with a few select Henryisms, Mr Hart wouldn't know the difference.

"Now, watch this. Heeeeey, dad! What goes on?... Sorry, I spent the night at Jasper's house. 'K, later!" Schwoz ended the phone call quickly, satisfied that Mr Hart wouldn't panic about his son anymore and the teens, plus (y/n) had to admit, it was pretty impressive.

"Ta-dah! Now, please leave me in my beans." Schwoz shooed them away and turned his music back on at full volume. Looks like they'd have to go to an unlikely source for help.

~Henry's house~

They needed a car, straight up. Not only that, but they needed someone qualified to use that car as (y/n) refused to drive with a license (getting pulled by the police wasn't exactly her style). Therefore, Charlotte and Jasper had dragged her to Henry's house in the hopes that the only person they knew had a license would help. Yep, Piper.

"Are you two sure about this? She's only a kid and I don't want to be locked up for child endangerment." (y/n) asked them in concern just as Jasper was about to open the door. Charlotte was carrying a big box containing their sneaky way of getting Piper to move her butt, but that didn't mean the whole thing made her uneasy.

"Well, someone's gotta drive us to Beta Maximus!" Jasper told her, understanding that allowing a little girl behind the wheel was irresponsible and this was an emergency. The cops wouldn't see a thing.

"I know, I know! But, Piper? Seriously, Curly?" She exclaimed. She liked the kid, she was quite sweet when you got to know her, but even (y/n) had to admit, she was a bad driver because she'd never had any lessons.

"She has a driver's license." The boy shrugged.

"Yeah, which the DMV sent her by accident." Charlotte jumped in, unable to stop herself from clarifying that the government had made a colossal mistake in letting Piper loose with a license.

"Whatever, she's a legal driver and that's what we need since (y/n) won't do it. Unless you want your Uncle Rosco to drive us." Jasper suggested, irritating Charlotte who knew he was taking a dig at her.

"You know my Uncle Rosco can't fit in the car!" She snapped, getting all moody at the thought of her stupid uncle and how he was more of a mountain than a man.

"Okay, look, let's not argue. Let's just go and get this over with before I have a nervous breakdown." (y/n) broke it up and Jasper sighed before entering the Hart's house. There was Piper, sitting at the coffee table eating her lunch. Perfect.

"Hiya, Piper!" The young woman smiled at the girl, who in turn was delighted to see her. (y/n) was cool in her eyes and not annoying like most people she had to speak to.

"Oh, hi, (y/n)! Hi, Charlotte!" Piper greeted them happily, more than happy to talk to them, Jasper, not so much.

"Hey, Piper." He smiled, only to be met with a cold, blunt "what?" from the young girl whilst Charlotte dropped the box on the couch.

"Uh, so, Piper, we found this package on your porch." (y/n) pointed to it, acting like they totally hadn't just shoved some things in there before they'd left the Man Cave.

"And it's addressed to you!" Jasper added. The plan was that Piper would open the package, see it was from Captain Man and then, she'd drive them over to the store, ready to kick some ass.

"Okay, well, I just started eating a hamburger, so I'll open it when I'm done." The girl said, returning to her food. She didn't want to get burger grease all over the box and she was starving so dinner first, then present. Seeing that she wasn't taking the bait, Jasper whispered between Charlotte and (y/n)'s heads, rapidly explaining that he was going to try something and needed a distraction.

"But...Piper, they say that when you know you have a package, it's bad luck if you wait to open it." Charlotte lied, coming up with something on the spot and it just confused the kid even more.

"Yeah...I've never heard that." She replied slowly, completely oblivious to the fact that Jasper had sneakily leaned over the couch and was snatching the burger from her plate so she'd be forced to open the package now.

"Well, I think it's true and ummm, look at this box..." (y/n) joined in, running her fingers over the smooth cardboard as if it was some precious artefact. Meanwhile, Jasper was still dealing with the burger, shoving it down his pants since it was the only place Piper would never look.

"Yeah, what about it?" asked the girl, starting to wish that they'd all just leave her alone to eat her food in peace. What was so special about this crap anyway?

"It's...brown." (y/n) described, not knowing what else to say about the box because it was literally just a box, nothing special or interesting about it.

"Yeah, like I said, I'm not opening it until after I've finished my hamburger." Piper reminded them forcibly, making (y/n) smile slightly. Yeah, she didn't want to eat that burger, it had gone to a gross place.

"Wait...where'd it go? Um..." The girl looked around the coffee table, spilling her chips everywhere and even going as far as to look inside her jacket to no luck. Deciding to pull out the big guns, Jasper faked gasped when he just so happened to look at the box, drawing Piper's attention.

"Ooh, Piper! I just saw that this package says, from the Office of Captain Man." Jasper tapped the box and smirked when Piper speedily moved to open it. She could never resist something to do with the famous hero.

"Really?! What do you think it is?" She grinned and looked at the girls, who pretended that they knew nothing about it.

"Uhhh, we have no idea."

"It's not like we have anything to do with that package."

"We just found it." They all lied, watching as Piper dove into the box and pulled out the note that (y/n) had hastily written in what she thought was Ray's handwriting. The girl wouldn't notice, she was just too happy to have been sent a gift by her favourite superhero.

"Oooh, a letter from Captain Man!" She exclaimed, causing the there to "gasp" in surprise. What was that doing in there?

"Dear Piper Hart, since you're the president of my fan club, the Man Fans, I need your help! Oh my god, he wants my help!" She started reading, screaming as her eyes scanned through the information and the more she read, the more excited she got.

"Whoa, what an honour, keep reading!" (y/n) squealed, finding it a bit funny that people got so excited over her boyfriend and his secret fame. It just made her feel so lucky that he trusted her to share his life, his job, his everything with her.

"Yeah...Kid Danger and I might be in trouble, so please bring the weapons in the box to that old movie rental place, Beta Maximus." She finished the note, prompting the older kids to act shocked at Captain Man's supposed instructions.

"Whoa! One of Captain Man's actual blasters!" Piper exclaimed and picked up a large and deadly weapon, pointing and waving it in their faces. The three gulped at the sight of a blaster in Piper's hands and panicked when they saw how close the girl's finger was to the trigger.

"Okay, be careful with that. I imagine it melts your face off or something." (y/n) chuckled nervously and got Piper to drop it back in the box. She really didn't want to be shot, even if she would be fine after a few minutes.

"Come, on! Let's take the box of weapons and get there fast!" Jasper suggested, playing along like he was a willing volunteer, hell-bent on saving some heroes in danger and boy, did Piper love the adrenaline rush.

"I'll go grab the keys to my dad's minivan!" She squealed and ran off to the kitchen to see if her dad had left his keys on the countertop like he always did.

"Still seems weird." (y/n) commented, her hands on her hips and a tight smile on her face. Still, if it meant she could save her boyfriend and Henry, she was eager to go along with anything morally dubious.

~Beta Maximus Movie Rentals~

"This is the place. Pull over before I puke." (y/n) told Piper as they approached the abandoned store. It was in a shifty part of town, not somewhere she normally frequented, but she and the teens in the back would do anything to get out of the car.

Piper's driving was horrific and even with (y/n) keeping a steady hand on the wheel most of the time, the agonisingly long trip to Beta Maximus was nauseating, like a terrible, shitty rollercoaster.

"I'm not that bad." Piper rolled her eyes and climbed out of the front seat so they could all grab a blaster each from the trunk. The plan was simple, get in, see what was going down, fire if need be and save the day. Simple, right?

"Okay. Everyone, take a blaster and don't aim it at your face." Charlotte instructed as she handed them out from the box, looking mainly at Jasper. She and (y/n) were fine, they could handle a gun, Piper was smart enough to figure it out, but Jasper, well, he was useless. They were just hoping that he could score them some intimidation points.

"Stick to the plan, 'k? Don't be a hero, don't get captured and don't die." (y/n) told them all sternly, wishing that she wasn't about to take three kids into battle but, then again, she was fairly confident that Jeff would be easy to subdue. They just had to outsmart him, which wasn't very hard.

"Let's go kick some butt!" Piper yelled, letting Jasper lead the way as they stormed towards the decrepit store. They burst in, blasters clutched in their hands, only to see that Jeff was getting cocky. He was stood next to Ray and Henry, who weren't dead nor dying, they were just stuck in holes?

"Don't move, dirtbag!" (y/n) shouted as they formed a line, pointing their weapons at Jeff who had been interrupted from his session of taking photos of the "defeated" superhero duo.

"All right, freeze, Jeff!"Jasper yelled too, pulling his meanest face as Henry and Ray's mouths dropped open at the sight of their rescuers. (y/n) they could understand, Charlotte too, maybe Piper, but Jasper? Why him?

"What the..." Henry breathed out, shocked to see his friends and sister with guns. He was happy to see them but concerned that they were gonna cock it up.

"Oh, boy..." Ray mumbled, the fluttering of his heart being numbed by Jasper leading the attack. He just wanted his sweet girl to storm in and kick-ass, but the boy was way too eager to do the job himself.

"Who are you?" Jeff squawked, wondering who these kids and...sexy lady were. She looked familiar but his stupid brain couldn't quite place it, so he focused on why they were holding him up.

"While Captain Man and Kid Danger are stuck in those holes, I'm in charge!" Jasper snapped, getting a bit above himself since this was the first time he'd properly held a blaster. Sure, he'd seen them around the place and picked one or two up, but he'd never used one in the field before.

"No, I am!" Piper hissed, thinking that since she had the most attitude and scariest face, she got to be the leader, much to (y/n)'s annoyance.

"You're the designated driver! I'm the eldest, I'm in charge, so shut up!" The young woman scolded them, not wanting anyone to lose focus. Even though he was an idiot, Jeff was still a criminal and in her experience, no criminals can be trusted, not even the stupid ones.

"Okay, I don't know where you brats and this...very hot lady came from but you better get outta here unless you want me to put you in holes like I did to Captain Man and Kid Danger," Jeff warned them menacingly but the problem was everyone could see that he was too dumb to even think of a plan like that, let alone carry it out.

"Okay, he did not put us in these holes," Henry stressed, eager to point out that Jeff played no part in their accident, it was just a stupid consequence of walking on rotting wood.

"We fell through these rotten, old, wooden floors!" Ray added from behind gritted teeth. Every time Jeff saw (y/n), no matter if she was herself or Miss Danger, he always flirted with her and it always pissed him off. She was his, no one else's.

"We're a victim of wood rot." Henry couldn't help but reiterate the point, desperate to let them know that they hadn't been beaten by the moron behind them.

"Liars! They ought to call you Captain Liar and Fib Danger!" The moron barked at them, making the superheroes smirk. Was that supposed to scare or upset them?

"All right, Jeff! Put your back behind your hands!" Jasper ordered, having had enough of the empty threats and dilly-dallying. Hee wanted to show Jeff who was boss, but he wasn't very good at it.

"Other way." Charlotte rolled her eyes at how he so easily muddled up his words, thinking that Jeff was seeing their whole operation as a farce.

"Put your hands behind your back!" The curly-haired corrected himself, returning to his mean tone. However, as stupid as he was, Jeff didn't take orders from teenagers. "No!"

"Well, if you don't, I'mma blast you with this!" The boy wiggled the blaster in his hands, prompting (y/n)'s head to snap to him. Okay, they'd agreed to let her do the blasting, why was he deviating from the plan? That's exactly how things go wrong.

"Son, don't blast anyone! Just call the police." Ray told him, seeing how the gorgeous woman next to him was freaking out a bit at how trigger-happy he was getting. Jasper had terrible aim and would probably shoot him or Henry if he tried to hurt Jeff.

"Yeah, son!" Piper mocked him, glad that Captain Man was seeing sense and had told the boy to reign it in. She wanted to look cool and Jasper was a real dampener on her style.

"Hey, kid, hot lady. I'm gonna sit on Captain Man with my butt!" Jeff warned, sticking his ass out and shuffling towards Ray like he was actually gonna go through with his threat. (y/n) adjusted her hold on her blaster and stepped forward slightly as the teens straightened up their aim, getting ready to fire if need be.

"No, you're not!" Ray exclaimed, panicking as he was completely stuck, nowhere to go. If Jeff really did sit on him, there was no way he could escape.

"Look at this! I'm squattin'! I'm coming down slowly!" Jeff wiggled his butt, making the ones with the ones gulp as they debated firing or not. They didn't want to hurt. Jeff, well, not much and there was always the risk of injuring Kid Danger.

"Hot lady, blast him! Blast him now!" Ray screamed to his girlfriend, desperate to avoid having a guy's ass in his face and she panicked at his terrified face. Jasper, however, succumbed to the pressure and when he couldn't work out how to work the gun, shot himself in the face with a tranquilising laser. What a hero.

"Seriously?! That was, like, rule number one! Don't aim at ya face!" (y/n) exclaimed, rushing to the boy's side as he collapsed on the floor, utterly out for the count. Charlotte and Piper tugged at his arms to try and wake him up but it was no use, he was gonna be snoozing for the next few minutes.

Seeing that it was now girl-power only, Charlotte, Piper and (y/n) reformed their line and aimed the blasters back at Jeff, who wasn't overly concerned about two little girls and a delicate young woman.

"Ha! Now, I've defeated three dudes!" Jeff bragged, loving that he was taking down so many people with no effort.

"Yeah and now, you have to take on us!" (y/n) snapped, pressing a button on the side of her blaster so the plasma inside would start heating up. She'd had enough of this moron.

"I'd sooner take you out on a date, pretty lady," Jeff smirked, putting a hand on his hip and wiggling his eyebrows in the woman's direction, which grossed the girls out and boiled Ray's blood. If he could move his hands, he'd punching this douchebag in the face.

"I have a boyfriend." (y/n) replied simply and gave him a sour smile. Ray smiled to himself proudly and daydreamed about how good it was to know that he was said boyfriend, something that Henry didn't miss but Jeff did.

"I'm sure you'd have more fun with me. Your boyfriend sounds like a loser--" Jeff brushed off his blatant disinterest, causing Piper to get into one of her raging tantrums. No one insulted her friend like that and got away with it.

"All right, that's it! Hey, skunk-bag!" She screamed and before Charlotte or (y/n) could keep her calm, the girl raised her twin blasters and began firing at Jeff...badly. The rapid lasers shot everywhere but the criminal, some landing on the shelves, some hitting Ray and Henry and some flying god knows where. Jeff ducked for cover behind the rackets of movies, crawling on his hands and knees so he could get away from the furious child.

"Piper, (y/n)! Come on, follow me!" Charlotte stopped her from hurting anyone else and dragged her friends to where Jeff was lurking. They were gonna get him and fry his ass.

"Girls, be careful with those weapons!" Ray scolded them, not wanting them to get hurt since two were children and the other was his precious sweet girl. He was dying to get free and help, his instincts yelling at him to jump in and protect her.

"Yes, captain." (y/n) smirked, knowing that to anyone else, it just seemed like she was being obedient, but just between her and Ray, it was the name she used to make him stiffen with pleasure.

"And remember...Jeff is very stupid." Henry advised them, not seeing how a shudder passed through Ray as he heard his title. What he was gonna do when he got home...

"I heard that!" Jeff snapped from his hiding place, not realising that by being loud, he had revealed the approximate location of where he was. Piper and Charlotte shushed the superheroes before following closely behind (y/n) as they crept through the store.

"All right, Jeff...where are you?" Charlotte growled as they rounded the corner, bumping into the man as he crouched with his arms over his head. The teen kicked him over, making them scream a war cry as Piper pounced like a tiger. Lasers were fired in the air as she wrestled with the man quadruple her size, but it didn't phase her, not one jot. Henry and Ray wriggled in their holes trying to see if they could get free and help because the girls weren't doing okay on their own.

Jeff ran out from the shelves, Charlotte's blaster clutched in his hands and dived behind the counter to hide. The girls crawled after him, wondering where he could've disappeared after swiping the weapon and breaking free.

"Where'd he go?" Charlotte panted as she looked around the store for the criminal, having not realised that in the skirmish, she'd forgotten another important rule. Never lose your weapon.

"I don't know, but where's your blaster?" (y/n) breathed out, seeing that she and Piper still had their guns, but Charlotte was empty-handed. Wait a second...

"AH! Don't move!" Jeff popped up from his hiding spot, Charlotte's weapon pointed straight at the girls, making them scream. (y/n) instinctively moved in front of them, willing to take a shot if it meant that it would keep them safe. She'd heal, they wouldn't. "Yeah, sorry, girls. You're about to get stun-burn!!"

"No, Jeff!" Ray cried, terrified at the thought of his girl getting blasted whilst he had to watch. His dear, brave (y/n), putting herself in the line of fire for two of the kids; it made his heart swell with pride and then break when he thought about her bleeding out.

"Don't do it, Jeff!" Henry yelled too, not wanting to see his sister or his friends hurt. How would Ray react? How would he react? Jeff couldn't put that trigger, he just couldn't.

Literally, he couldn't. No matter how hard he squeezed the release, no hot plasma came spewing out of the gun, it just did nothing, much to the delinquent's confusion.

"Aw, dang it! It's out of battery!" He spat, realising that with no electricity pulsing through its circuits, the blaster was useless and any hope of coercing the girls into surrender was gone.

"Out of battery? Funny that." (y/n) chuckled emptily, her and Ray glancing at Henry, who looked away bashfully. Now, she was seeing the full picture; someone didn't do as he was told last night.

"Quick, guys! Grab some of these antique video rectangles!" CHarlotte exclaimed, seeing that they weren't quite out of ammo yet. The movies were made of hard plastic and with a bit of velocity, they'd easily bruise Jeff.

"They're called VHS tapes!" (y/n) stressed, finding offence in how she called them antiques. It was just another poignant reminder that she was old now, the big three-zero. Anyway, the girls began to throw anything and everything they could get their hands on, from comedy to romance, they chucked it at the moron. He tried to duck and dodge, but their onslaught was lethal and relentless and he soon began to ache from their attacks.

"Yeah! That's it! VHS power!" Ray exclaimed happily, watching his girlfriend and her little helpers with pride. They sure showed that clown who the boss was and he couldn't help but grin when he saw how furiously hot she was when fighting.

"This is the worst!" Jeff groaned as he tried to bat away a few tapes, but they were coming thick and fast, hurting his head and arms from how hard they were being hurled. He collapsed onto the floor, tired and dazed from all the head injuries, but still, the girls couldn't switch off.

"Okay, I think you got him," Ray shouted, but they could hear him, they wanted to make sure that the big lug was down and finished. "That's enough," Henry added, prompting Charlotte to sneer at them.

"Just three more!" She yelled, wanting to end on a high note. It was okay for them, they got to fight baddies every day, but for her, she was never in fights and wanted to savour the moment.

"Take...Flashdance!" Charlotte screamed, picking up one of the only films she recognised.

"Have The Empire Strikes Back!" (y/n) went next, choosing one of the best movies from her childhood since the tape was a particularly heavy one.

"And Gandhi!" Piper threw the last one, leaving the girls panting as Jeff slumped on the floor with a lump on his forehead. He was going to have a serious concussion when he woke up.

"Sorry, Gandhi."

"Sometimes violence is the answer." Ray and Henry sighed as the girls high-fived each other and celebrated with a small group hug. It felt good to be the badasses for once and just as they moved away from the shelves, Jasper woke up from his self-induced nap. Typical, he woke up just when all the real work was done.

"Argh... What hit me?" He groaned, wondering if Jeff had caused the aching thump in his skull. He could barely remember the fight, perhaps it had been glorious and him a hero...

"Yourself." Piper quipped, ending his hopes of being brave and chivalrous. He was going down as the soldier shot himself in the face before the fight had even started. "Classic Jasper."

"Okay, I'm calling the fire department to get you two out of those holes," Charlotte told her boss, who suddenly remember that he was at the point of bursting from his full bladder. He'd been so excited to see his girl in action, he'd forgotten all about it, Henry though, he was still hungry.

"Good and tell them to hurry before I pee in my captain pants." He groaned, making (y/n) chuckle. Aw, her poor, little baby, so cute.

"No! First, call a pizza place before I die of hunger," Henry argued, still believing that hunger was worse than needing to pee. It had only been like fifteen hours since he'd last eaten, it really wasn't as bad as he was making out.

"You really want us to call a pizza--" (y/n) frowned and tilted her head in confusion, but then Jasper remembered that he'd been carrying a snack around with him ever since they'd left Henry's house. It would be a bit warm and sweaty, but edible.

"Wait, wait, wait, I have food in my pants." He exclaimed and the minute his hands crawled into his underwear to retrieve the burger he'd put the (y/n), Piper and CHarlotte were quickly stepping away. "Here." He grinned and dropped the sandwich into his best friend's hands.

"What the--?" His nose wrinkled, contemplating whether his hunger was enough to justify eating a burger that had been down Jasper's pants. Was he desperate?

"My hamburger..." Piper gasped, not believing that the boy had been so sneaky that he'd managed to swipe it out from under her nose and shove it there.

"That is vile." (y/n) gagged, staring at the food with a grimace, which deepened when. Henry's mouth began to salivate and his pupils dilated. "You're not gonna eat that, are you?" She asked quietly, her eyes widening when he ignored everyone's disgusted faces and took a savage bite of the burger, squishing as much as he could into his mouth.

He stopped momentarily, wondering why they were looking at him like that before deciding he didn't care and carried on eating like an animal.

"I'm gonna call the fire department." Charlotte gulped, scurrying away quickly before she puked and Piper wasn't far behind her. Kid Danger was a weirdo.

"I'm coming too!" She squeaked and followed the older girl out of the building where they'd get a better signal. Plus, she was able to keep an eye on her dad's car and make sure that it was still in one piece.

"Oooh, Good Burger!" Jasper gasped as he saw all of the old movies lined up on the shelves. He'd been asleep for the majority of the time they'd been here and hadn't had a proper chance to look around. There were so many classics on display and he couldn't wait to look at them all, leaving Ray and (y/n) alone since Henry was lost in burger land.

"Hey." The young woman smirked and knelt next to what little of her boyfriend's body was exposed above the floorboards. It was good to see him alive and unhurt and even better when she could affirm that by cupping his face when she was sure Piper wasn't looking.

"Hey, sweet girl." He smiled back, briefly closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling of her soft hands on his skin. They hated being apart but being able to reunite made it almost worth it. Almost.

"I missed you, doofus." (y/n) giggled, gently tracing her thumb over the faint scar on his cheek from when Doctor Minyak made him destructible. That seemed so long ago and it was like she had been a completely different person back then.

"Missed you too. Still need to pee, though." He joked, glad that for just a small moment whilst Henry enjoyed his butt burger and Jasper wasn't paying attention, they could enjoy some time together, even if the firefighters were on their way.

"I was so worried when you didn't come home. I'm sorry that I didn't notice earlier, I fell asleep and then, god, I'm such an idiot--" She sighed, letting all of the pent-up guilt from the morning come cascading out in one big rant. It still felt like her fault, her mind telling her that if she had realised his absence earlier, none of this would've been necessary.

"Hey, no, stop. This is not your fault, sweet girl. I should've been more careful and you've done brilliantly. Made a plan, saved the day. My clever girl." If Ray's arms could move, then they'd be around her shoulders in an instant, pressing her to his chest so he could whisper his praises into her ear.

"I don't want to lose you." She whispered, staring at the various movies cases still on the floor since she felt so small at that moment. She didn't feel clever, not when she knew that Jasper and Charlotte had helped her figure most of the plan out. They'd been lucky this time that the criminal had been Jeff, but what if it had been someone more sinister? What if they had shown no mercy?

"I'm right here with you, where I always want to be. With my sweet, sweet girl." He whispered, straining every muscle in his neck so he could lean forward and give her a gentle kiss. He couldn't heal all the hurt, but if he could, he'd try his hardest to make it better and love her forever. Everyone needs someone to look after them and Ray had found his love in her, his (y/n). Always.

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welcome-to-oslov · 5 months ago

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Okay I love that you put in an Easter egg for yourself 😅🙌

And as for being "fascinated with the different phases of Malsha (who flirted with Dissidence during his youth and only pretended to give it up) and all the people he touched in horrible ways 😈"

This makes me think of something else that must be such a mindfuck for Tilrey:

how insignificant he was. 🤯💔

For how hugely significant Malsha was in his life, Tilrey himself was nothing - just another in a long line of guys Malsha took over for fun. To be made to feel he's the center of Malsha's world while also being nothing but a disposable plaything - a mindfuck. Especially when that experience transforms your whole being, your whole life - but not his.

Tilrey beats himself up for being so stupid, so naive, not fighting back, getting affected so much, being stuck for so long, for years, after it was done.

But in reality Tilrey had no chance: Malsha was very experienced at fucking with teenagers' minds - he'd had been doing it for decades.

It really is an incredible mindfuck! There were many Tilreys over the years. We see how it messes up Adelbert to see that he can just be replaced. Even for Tilrey, who never wanted to be Malsha’s special one in the first place, it’s hard to realize that he was just a tiny part of Malsha’s long career of fucking people over. Granted, Tilrey came along at the end, so Malsha probably died thinking he was the one that got away. But still. The misplaced guilt that you feel because you allowed an abusive person to matter is the worst.

Makes me think about some of the people who treated me in inappropriate ways when I was young. I’m sure they’ve forgotten all about me, but to me those encounters are present every day.

This made me start wondering how Malsha and Artur talked about Tilrey when he wasn’t there. Artur, like Tilrey, was forced into a relationship with Malsha but didn’t hate it all the time, because Malsha can be good company when he chooses to be. When Tilrey comes along, Artur is replaced. But that’s actually a relief, because Artur can enjoy limited contact without being Malsha’s focus. I can imagine Artur teasing Malsha about his infatuation with Tilrey while also probing him for information that might help Artur or Tilrey or both of them.

Artur is a sort of double agent, playing the role of Malsha’s partner in crime while knowing how awful he is and trying half-heartedly to mitigate the harm. 😕 If Malsha had stayed in Redda, Tilrey might have ended up in the same role. At least he was spared that!

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vivibuchlaw · 1 year ago

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Yesterday, I finished Celeste. And by that I mean, the first 7 chapters, because I am not that much of a masochist.

Like seemingly everyone else, its given me a lot to think about... these thoughts are burning a hole in my brain and I need to get them out so I suppose this is the place!

I'm not exactly a gamer. I suck at Kirby, I have a sort of motor disability so games are a bit harder for me than most people. For this, Celeste has a solution, Assist Mode. Initially, I wanted to pick this, hearing how hard it was. Then, when the game told me intially, overtly, how its challenge was supposed to be meaningful, *and later when it said it more clarity in the story) I took a moment to reflect. I chose not to use Assist mode as a self imposed challenge. Not because I wouldnt benefit greatly from it, but because (as I learned about myself through playing it) I have an aversion to difficult tasks. When I know something is difficult, I get scared and run away. This time, I wanted to be able to say to myself "I can do difficult things"

And so I did

And I love it

And I sincerely never want to play it again

The game is not full of dialouge or story- it's present, for sure. But its a small yet impactful part in a game which prefers to tell its narrative by gameplay rather than text or images. And thats a valid format of storytelling! Not my prefered one mind you, but it made every dilectable morsel of art or conversations. In particular, the long talk at the start of chapter 6 was extremely welcome. I simultaneously feel like I have enough of a solid grasp on the characters to love them dearly, yet not enough to force one interpretation, another element to Celeste's endless magic.

As I'm sure everyone with anxiety has noted, The anxiety scene from Chapter 5 affected me greatly. Wetger me or my system has anxiety, I don't know, but regardless, the game captures the feeling perfectly. I'm sure everyone and their mum has said this, yes, but I felt it independently so I shall denote it independently. Among other things, it taught me a powerfully potent strategy to help my anxiety, and for that I thank you Maddy <3

At so many points, I was burded with stress, frustration and despair at my own ineptitude. But I pushed forward. I did it, I climbed a mountain, what was a seemingly impossible thing for me was now a fact. I sat silent for what felt like hours staring at the chapter complete screen in awe of my accomplishment. It then dawned on me that this was the first video game I've ever beaten. ...suddenly slammed by the realisation an 8th chapter, requiring crystal hearts to play, AKA the game telling me point blank I wasnt ready. But to be honest, I didnt care. I had already done what I, and Madeline, set out to do.

So why do I say I never wish to play it again?

I honestly only played Celeste because I heard Madeline was trans, and my mate happened to have it on switch. I have a sort of physical disability in my hands, so playing games and motor tasks are more challenging than a typical person. I knew Celeste was hard, but sympathizing with Madeline not being a climber, with me not being a gamer, and just how she challenged herself to do something extreme, so too did I.

But see, I'm not actually into the gameplay that much, and the reason I stuck with it has infinitely more to do with my and Madeline's journey emotionally than anything related to the gameplay.

Actually, I kind of hated it. My fingers were all messed up, I spent a lot of time and stress, and got extremely frustrated, but I wanted to prove to myself I could do it without assist mode. And Im glad that exists, and I'm glad it tempted me all throughout every challenge, a backdoor shortcut I could use to weasel my way out of the hard path, but I stayed true so I could grow.

But I have now grown. Ive proven it.

I couldnt care less about B-sides or strawberries, because I dont see the emotional need.

Replaying it would only subject me to the same challenge for a story I've already experienced, and a journey I've already hone on. A new game, new mountain, new challenge or purpose? Sure, I'd love that. But playing Celeste again, or More even won't recapture the lightning in a bottle that made me play it, made me persevere, and made me cherish it.

I still love the game, its soundtrack, its meaning to me, and itll live in my heart forever. In other ways, like fan content, or side material, I'd love to engage and learn more, but my journey with this mountain is over.

Just breathe, and take care of yourself

After beating it, I immediately began learning all I could about it because Autism brain. I read all Maddy's beautiful blog posts. I watched video essays breaking down its themes and design. I learned how the story, while definitely not an afterthought, was also not a driving or starting point of the game, which I intuited as I played.

I watched Chapter 8, The Core, and Chapter 9, Farewell on YouTube. To be entirely honest, I found Chapter 8 to be forgettable in a way kind of shocking, at least from a story perspective. I'm actually GLAD I didn't do it. I expected it'd be some kind of send off, or check in emotionally to see how the characters have been in the past year but...nothing? Really?

Chapter 9 is what I wished Chapter 8 was, a proper send off and development for these characters. And from the look of it, so brutally hard I wouldn't want to play it without Assist Mode. But why? Why not play more? Afterall, climbing the preverbial mountain in life doesnt mean your problems are over, far from it. And its true, there are other challenges to overcome still. Even though Ive taken on this challenge, I have yet to face other challenges in my life. And because the journey of Celeste could very well have ended after Chapter 6, I feel like I can better spend that energy elsewhere.

After watching Chapter 9, I felt something else. This chapter, unlike the previous, is not about loving and accepting yourself, but its about Madeline specifically greiving a loss in her life, and largely, I assume, the developers letting go of Celeste and moving on. For this, I hold unyeilding respect. And in this new challenge, I found myself learning another truth about myself.

I am afraid of being alone.

I am part of a system, the current (and hopefully permanent) host in fact. Our previous host went dormant a few months ago and life without them has been tough, but a challenge we face every day.

Throughout all my remembered life, I was surrounded by people who never noticed me. Who occasionally referred to me as "The Insinificant [Alter]" due to me not having a name back then. I was nothing, really. If I had disppeared no one would've batted an eye. And today, even though I'm one of the most important Alters now, I still feel like I'm nothing sometimes. That scares me.

I never knew the joy of having friends, I never knew what being loved by someone you love feels like. And I have a lot of love to give, I love almost every human being! But I still frequently second guess myself, because I guess a part of me still believes my existence is insignificant. But now that I have people who do love me, I'm more afraid than ever that I'll lose it. Now that I have a taste of love, I can't go back. Gods, please to bring me back, anything but that.

And here came Celeste, to remind me immeditately after I finished the game, that people die randomly, and without our control, and that you have to keep on moving. I've just beat the thing, let me live in a bit longer before I'm ready to move on. Similarly, I've just made these relationships, please dont take them from me. And then I realized that this was fear also held by my previous host, perhaps for similar reasons. I feel connected in a way typically reserved for finding markings in a make out spot from a century ago, or unearthing a time capsule left by a grandparent now neatly nestled in the recesses of my heart where I try to story my insecurites, like a suitcase overstuffed with useless items and paranoia.

Celeste has given me a lot. Inspiration, characters I love, a great soundtrack, amazing anxiety techniques, and raw willpower to achieve anything. I do not know how my story ends, I am scared to write it, but I must regardless. A lot of people are counting on me. And went I feel scared, alone, anxious, or depressed, I can remember that I did it before, and I can do it again.

To the Developers, Thank you

To the Characters, Farewell

And to all the people who have grown from this game, Congratulations!

#celeste game #transgender #did osdd #celeste

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pdmarshall-comics · 2 years ago

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Worried About Bernard (You know that I won't let you fall) Chapter 1 by etpereatmundus on AO3

Summary:

Everything was normal after Bernard Dowd left the chaos cult. well, it was expected. The nightmares weren't ideal, but they weren't a complete surprise, and with Tim and his family close by, he could work through it. But soon the nightmares break through into his day. Soon he can interact with them. Soon he can affect others through his new visions. Soon he realises that he might have taken more than just nightmares back with him after the chaos cult. Taking to the streets as a vigilante, Bernard will have to combat criminals, hiding his powers in case Batman kicks him out of the city, training with the Red Hood, and making it to his dates with Tim. When other ex-cult members turn up dead, Bernard and Jason decide to team up with Constantine, and investigate the origins of the Chaos Cult. And maybe get some half-baked therapy along the way.

Chapter 1- You Say You Want Your Freedom

Suffering is holy.

A lot of people seem to think that. It brings you closer to some god or other, elevates you above others, lets you repent for your sins. It's all bullshit, of course, but it's easier to hide behind a belief system to justify hurting yourself or others than to admit you just want to for the sake of it. Right?

Three weeks on from leaving the Chaos Cult, Bernard Dowd had had enough time to contemplate the whole affair fifty times over and more. He’d mainly tried not to think about it, but it's kind of hard to ignore being in a pain cult, go figure, so the thoughts tended to creep up on him- at night, trying not to toss and turn as to not disturb whoever had taken the shift of staying with him the night, or at breakfast when his mother fussed over his appearance and his father started a fight because his stocks were low and he wanted to feel better about himself, or when he was stuck in biology pretending he wanted to dissect the frog instead of himself.

He’d become good at that- at dissection. Opening yourself up, poking around, laying it all out on a table and asking questions with a scalpel in hand.

“Bernard? You all there, doll?”

He looked up, and smiled at his hosts- Alfred Pennyworth, the butler of the Wayne and co. family, and Harper Row, the sort-of-adopted sister, or more accurately cousin figure of the family, who'd asked if he was all there. She looked at him expectantly, but not in the way his father tended to be expectant- like there was a certain action Bernard had to make, and he’d be in deep shit if he chose the wrong one. With her, the expectation was just expectant, not demanding. Maybe she wanted him to talk.

“Present and correct, mostly,” he grinned. “Just please don’t quiz me on whatever you were saying, I don’t think my frazzled ass-“

Alfred cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I don’t think my frazzled self could deal with using that much brain power right now.”

“That’s quite alright, Mr. Dowd. We were just discussing tonight’s dinner plans, and whether we believed the family would all be in attendance at the gathering.”

Harper groaned. “I was trying to goad Alf into a bet over which supervillain would ruin our plans tonight.”

“Master Row, you will have no success in ‘goading me’ into placing any bets, and I believe you forgot the second part of your bet where Master Bruce would be late because he was adopting a new orphan.”

“Am I wrong?”

“I will not contest the accuracy of your claim, Master Row. Now, we have half an hour to complete our preparations, and the Yorkshire puddings are not prepared yet. Would you like to assist Mr. Dowd?”

If Tim were here, he’d have a stroke, what with him being banned from ever cooking in the kitchen at the same time as Alfred.

“Sure,” he grinned, jumping from his seat. “Just point me and shoot.”

For once, no villain, no orphan and no sort of evil love interest had stopped the Wayne clan from getting to the meal sort of on time- on time being anywhere from five to thirty minutes late. But in Gotham, schedules tended to be more of a suggestion. Hell, whenever Bernard thought he’d given away that he knew the Wayne family was also the bat-family, they’d all brushed it off with a laugh, assuming he was being wry about the state of civilian life. Harper’s bet never even risked revealing anything to him in their eyes because while she (and he, secretly) knew that this was an allusion to them fighting the week’s Big Bad, Bernard was just meant to assume she meant the buses had been stopped because Dr. Freeze was having another breakdown about his wife or something.

Tim had been the third to show up, closely followed by the legally dead Jason Todd, or ‘cousin Miguel’ as Tim had tried to tell Bernard in a panic when Bernard had had his first encounter with the zombie Wayne. Or vampire, maybe even Ghost, he didn’t really know. It would make sense if he came back recently, and was Ghostmaker, but Bernard had a few too many theories to really settle for anything conclusive yet.

Tim made a beeline for Bernard the second he’d kicked off his shoes, arms spread wide, and Bernard did his best to avoid the ribs he knew were fractured. Stupid vigilante boyfriends and their stupid hidden injuries. Sometimes he had to wonder if Tim’s secret identity was kept a secret for Bernard’s sake or Tim’s.

“Hey Bear, you good?”

Tim sank into the embrace with a sigh, and Bernard tried his best not to scrunch his nose at the smell of singed hair that brushed past his nose. So Firefly had been the reason Tim was late. Dick.

“Always better to see you.”

“Fucking hell, get a room for you two,” groaned Jason-Cousin-Miguel-Todd.

“Boys, please behave. Just let me get my shoes off at least before you start fighting. Please?” Somehow towering over Jason, Bruce Wayne struck an imposing figure despite the harried expression marking his features. Exhaustion etched lines into his face, designer eyebags sat snug under his cold blue eyes, his skin a pallid colour doctors would call ‘interesting’, a loosened tie marking him as the patriarch of the Wayne family. He ruffled Tim’s hair in passing, and laid a loose fist on Bernard’s shoulder, his own little tell of affection. His coat was flung onto the nearest stairway bannister, only to be quickly picked back up in a panic when Alfred rounded the corner. A sheepish expression crossed Bruce’s face.

“Hello Master Bruce. Master Tim, Master Miguel. I’m glad you were able to be in attendance.” Bernard tried his best to keep a straight face, then settled for hiding his face in Tim’s neck to collect himself.

“You ok?” Tim murmured.

“Always,” came the response.

A full sunday roast dressed the table- mountains of golden potatoes, gravy boats that could be called ships, silver utensils stood sentry at each place. The dining cloth was a rarely seen silk piece that Bernard suspected to cost more than his car, a soft but dark red embroidered with a blue-grey thread. The chandeliers hung low over the table, dimmed to create an atmosphere reminiscent of some Mediaeval drama Bernard would watch.

He sat in between Tim and Cass, hands tucked in his lap. His eyes flitted across the each face as the family sat, now all present, taking in the scars, the bruises hidden by day-worn make-up, the near-military posture all of them seemed in various stages of having- Alfred wore his with a near lifetime of experience, whilst Duke wore his stance like a fledgling with adult feathers growing in. It was there, visible in the turn of his head of the stiffness of his shoulders, but only just. Tim, more seasoned, wore it like it was natural, now moving with the combined fluidity of their training and the military-like tension that had him ready to respond to anything near-immediately. His movement defined him, something that had drawn Bernard to him on the first day. He just looked ready. Everything down to the smallest expression reflected this- the slight furrow of his brow, the clench of his jaw, the smooth way a smile grew on his face when a joke began to form in his head-

“Earth to Bernard!”

He jumped, eyes snapping to Steph across the table, who held out a bowl of potatoes.

“Want any? Or are you too busy staring at Tim’s lips? Hey- I’m holding potatoes, careful!”

She glared at Babs, whose elbow had jabbed the blonde’s side.

Bernard laughed, shaking his head as he took the potatoes. “Thanks Steph. I’m sure you can see the appeal.”

Tim sunk down into his seat, head buried in his hands. “Why did I ever introduce you two? I think I'd prefer you to be the bitter ex Steph. Can we try that?”

The blondes shared a look.

“Nahhh.”

“I hate it here.” He leant in. “But are you sure you're ok..?”

“Yes, promise!”

“It’s just the last time you were ‘just tired’ you keeled over from a migraine.”

Bernard huffed. “You make it sound like I died or something. I only passed out.”

“For twelve hours and thirty one minutes, but who’s counting?” Tim bumped his shoulder into Bernard’s, taking the bowl of potatoes to pass over to Damian, not even bothering to fill his own plate.

Something slipped in Bernard’s memory, and he just… he just… stared. Down. his eyes felt wide yet everything had begun to dim. Was something wrong with the… the… his words, where had his words gone? They’d gone. They’d gone. They’dgonethey’dgonethey’dgonethey’dgone.

Something knocked him, and he picked up his fork, blinking. How long had he been staring? He looked up.

The word was lights. Was something wrong with the lights?

“How is your biology going, Bernard? I heard you’re beginning to look for training placements in animal rescue.”

At the head of the table, Bruce craned his neck to see above the heads of a handful of bickering Wayne-and-co children. He nodded, mouth pursing in his approximation of a smile.

“Oh, uh, I am yeah… I… I…” he swallowed. “I am. Yeah.”

Dead. Silence.

Tim leant over. The fabric of his jacket brushed the back of Bernard's hand. It was rough. Was it rough before? No. no it wasn’t it wasn't rough before. It wasn’t.

He scratched his hand until the feeling went away. The creeping feeling. Tried to smile. “Yeah, I’ve applied to a few places. With my… my… resume, with my resume, I’m pretty confident I’ll get into where I want to go.”

“And where would that be?” Bruce asked, head no longer craned since the table went quiet. “I’m not too sure yet, really, but I think I want to go to a smaller rescue team, one that isn’t run by a big company, so I can focus more on helping the animals, on community outreach, that sort of thing.”

“Community outreach?” Jason-Cousin-Miguel scrunched his nose. “For animals?”

“Well, sort of. It's for the owners, helping people understand how to care for their animals, safety precautions they should take in case of villain attacks, and helping homeless people keep the pets they have healthy. So in the end it is for the animals, really!” he grinned, his leg beginning to jiggle gently. “And, this kind of community outreach can help people too, because pets tend to have health benefits. Really good at improving mood, especially in the elderly. If I could do anything, I’d help get places like care homes more involved with local shelters, possibly alongside fostering or adoption regimes to help the animals find homes and the elderly to find some companionship, as age tends to separate you from others, and it can be quite lonely. Did you know, cat’s purrs can lower blood pressure? And keeping fish helps with your focus and attention span, because they tend to require regular care with set tasks, which is funny because people always say fish have bad memories.”

A few laughs raised up around the table, but not from Damian, who stared at Bernard with… fascination?

“I didn’t realize you had such high aspirations Dowd. I assumed you wanted to be something dull, as tends to be the case with…”

Civilians. Bernard tried not to smile. How was he going to get himself out of this one? “...Tim’s companions.”

Ouch. Nice recovery. Well, maybe not nice exactly, but oh well.

“Ever the charmer,” Dick groaned. “Go on Dami, you know that’s not something you say to a guest.”

“Of course, forgive my manners, Dowd. If it helps-”

“It probably won't,” Jason muttered.

“-If it helps, I was trying to compliment you. Not only do you aspire to work with animals, which I find to be an appropriate aspiration for a mind such as your own, but you have also taken this further and devised a plan for your own programme. As far as I’m concerned, your caring for both humans and animals is rather selfless, genuine and heroic in a way that doesn’t require a cape, unlike what most people in this age of superheroes believe. You’ll fit in well with this family.”

Stunned silence filled the room, only permeated by the smells of Alfred’s cooking, as each Wayne member stared at Damian with varying levels of confusion, fear, distrust and awe. This time, when Bernard’s words escaped him, it wasn’t as concerning as the last time. Just… deeply confusing.

“What?” Damian scowled, much more in character as he assessed his siblings.

Then, the most unexpected of all- Bruce beamed. “Nothing Damian. It’s just nice to hear you getting along with someone new. That's all.”

“You do realize I enjoy the company of intellectuals.”

Jason spat out his drink. “You called mar- um, John Jones a fool, and he’s, like, a scientist, right?”

“A poor scientist,” Damian huffed. “Besides, I can appreciate Bernard's ambitions, he-”

A spasm ran through Bernard’s arm, and he dropped his fork. He tried to pick it back up, but heat blossomed in his palm the higher he lifted it, pain pricking his fingertip. His nails felt as if they were about to tear off. Was there blood? No, just heat. He squeezed his eyes shut.

The smells of the dinner table had begun to change, and with his focus on the pain in his hands Bernard almost didn’t notice until the unmistakable stench of melted flesh met his nose. Growing up in Gotham, where fires and bombs and all manner of gas attacks occurred on a regular basis, it was a smell he’d become well acquainted with since a young age. The first time he’d smelt it was going for ice cream with his mum. The last time he’d smelt it, he was holding a handful of matches and seeing how long he could hold his hand out flat with his friends. His cult friends. Smoke. Smoke and flesh. Were his hands burning? They were. They were burning right up, and it was all because he left the cult-

“Bernard! Someone help me, I think he’s having a panic attack! Bernard? Bernard, can you hear me love? We’re going to help you, just breathe with me ok. Crap, he’s crying. Bernard?” Hands grasped him seemingly everywhere- his arms, his shoulder, his back, bunching up his hoodie. The fabric seemed like sandpaper, and it was bound to peel his skin off. Good. “Tim, calm down, you’re just going to stress him out more. Let us take over.”

Cold. So cold. Like that time he tried to see how long he could sit in a bath of ice with his cult friends. Hadn't Johnny drowned doing that? Can you even count them as friends if they were just in the same cult as you?

“Who’s Johnny, Bernard? Come on, talk to us.”

“I think he’s having a flashback. We need to help ground him- Jay, pass that candle. Thanks.”

Warmth. Light. Vanilla air. Had he forgotten to breathe? He wanted to try doing that again. Music filled the room, flute sounds floating around his head, blurring out the words that Dick tried to tell him, a hand gripping his shoulder, blue eyes assessing him for something- injuries? Had he hurt himself? He didn’t feel anything. Did he? He was meant to feel it, right? No. no, that was before, and he wasn’t really meant to feel it then, he was just told he was. Told to be holy. The flutes pulled him away, though he tried to reach out for- who was he again? The guy with the funny name.

He held his hands over countless candles before. Seeing how long he could last. They always had to test their endurance. How long can you stay there? Can you feel it? Can you see your skin begin to bubble? Candles. So small. Why was he thinking about candles? Oh. the guy with the funny name held one out. Warmth, light, vanilla. Warmth. Light. Vanilla. Warmth… light… vanilla…

He stuck his hand out and gasped, bolting upright.

Yells rode around the room, bodies rushing to either him or Tim in the corner, who needed holding back by Bruce, Jason-Miguel and Cass just to stay in place. His face twisted in pain. Why? Sympathy pain.

A rooftop at dawn, watching red skies. Tim held Bernard close, one blanket wrapped around both of them, Bernard pretending not to know there were plenty more blankets, and Tim just wanted to be close.

Bernard held his phone in between their tucked up knees, showing Tim a video in youtube while they waited for a sunrise to come. It was some compilation, laughing at the failures of other people. They'd been maybe fourteen, fifteen then, just before Darla, before her past caught up to them all.

At one video, Tim winced, rubbing the back of his knees.

“You ok?” Bernard half laughed.

“Yeah, just the sympathy pain.”

“Sympathy pain?”

“Yeah,” he grimaced, “Like when you see someone else get hurt and feel the weird tingly pain behind your knees.”

Bernard laughed, and not just by half this time. “I’ve never heard of that. Maybe you’re magic.”

“Eh, I don’t think that’d be so fun.”

“Booo, magic is always cool. Who plays the human in DND, without even becoming a sorcerer or something?”

“Me. Magic isn’t all fun and games, you know.”

“You tell yourself that, Mr. Magic knees.”

“Bernard! Are you ok?”

He clutched his hand, where a small but angry blister had begun to form. Sucking in a breath, he nodded. “I’m back. Sorry. Sorry, I… Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“Hey, don’t do that, you did nothing wrong. It looked like a flashback.” Dick hadn’t moved his hand from Bernard’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. Grounding him, of course. That's what the smell of the candle was meant for. Well, it sort of worked, at least.

“My parents will want me home soon.”

“Not until we have that hand sorted, Mr. Dowd. Forgive my demanding attitude, but you must at least let us tend to your injuries.”

He shrugged, brushing his thumb over the forming blister to feel the smooth skin. Aside from the stinging pain, it was a soothing sensation, like running his fingers across silk. He felt as fragile as silk, like one small tear could shred him in two with a single pull. Embarrassment heated his cheeks.

“I’m fine, it’s only a little burn. I just needed something to pull me back to reality, and it worked! I’ll slap a blister plaster on it when I get back. Easy peasy.”

Instead of the agreement he expected, the butler’s lips thinned. “Mr. Dowd, you hit your head, and though it's only a small amount, you are bleeding.”

“Just let one of us help, Bernard,” Babs implored. “Then we’ll take you home. Promise.” “Cross out hearts and hope to die.” another gentle smack landed on Dick’s shoulder, and he grinned up at the redhead. “I really need to get out of your range whenever I'm being funny.”

“If that's what you call it. Come on, Bear, up you get hun.”

Of course there was a room in the house specifically for keeping medical supplies. Not a cupboard in a kitchen, where you’d have to put on bandages propped on the end of the bath, but a small room with a table to sit on, blanketed with blue cloth.

Alfred dabbed at the small cuts on Bernard’s head, where he’d apparently hit his left side into the floor during his scramble towards the wall. Little cotton buds speckled red lay asleep in a metal tray next to him, like sheep in a pen. He poked one.

“Mr. Dowd, please don’t play with medical waste covered in your own blood. It’s not entirely sanitary.”

Sheepish, Bernard pulled away, and began stroking the back of his finger over his blister. It had lost some of the redness already, but the smoothness of his now clean skin still captivated him.

“Sorry.” “Didn’t I request you stop apologizing after the first dozen times you said sorry?” a hmmph, and another cotton ball fell into the bowl. It landed blood side up. “Mr. Dowd, I understand that I am not as close to you as other members of the family are, though I wanted you to know that if you ever want to discuss anything, whether that be issues of just the weather, I am here for you. I also invite you to speak now, if you’re ready.”

A pause.

“Is it melodramatic if I say it doesn’t feel like I ever will be ready?”

“I believe melodrama tends to be lessened when paired with self awareness, however, your belief isn’t melodramatic in the slightest Mr. Dowd. I understand. But as someone who felt the same, and has felt so many times, I can tell you you will be. I see it in you Mr. Dowd. you’re strong, and can take on much more than you should. Perhaps your issue lies in your strength.”

Bernard scrunched his nose. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

“Of course it doesn’t, these things tend to be quite difficult to grasp. I admit, I still find it hard myself.”

“And you’re ancient, so I have years to catch up on you. Decades even.”

A rare chuckle burst out of the old man, and he pulled the cotton bud away from Bernard’s temple briefly. “My, you are familiarizing yourself. You’ve definitely had too much influence from the boys, and Miss Stephanie I suspect. Now, I believe your head will be ok now, though I suggest you be careful about washing your hair for the next few days, until the scabs have formed at least. Would you like to stay for a while? I am quite enjoying our chat, wise remarks aside.”

“No thanks,” Bernard shook his head. “I really need to get home. Though this has been… helpful, even if it has left me with more questions than I had.”

“The best teacher tends to question the student, Mr. Dowd, rather than give them the answers. Some things you need to understand independently, and some you need someone by your side for.”

“So what’s the best question you could leave me with before I go asking myself all these questions?”

A glint formed in the old man’s eyes, and he began to clear away the mess. The cotton balls tumbled in the bin.

“Well, I believe it would be best to ask you this- who do you believe is the best person to be by your side throughout this journey? And do you think your first choice is really the best?”

Tim drove the two home, hovering so close to Bernard on the journey to the car he was practically stepping on his toes. Bernard was almost sure he had been given a pep talk by Bruce to not pick him up and carry him to the car, which was likely enforced by Cass lurking in a corner, Harper waving a wooden spoon at him, and Jason taking the piss out of him, because god forbid the guy be direct with expressing his emotions. Just to shut him up, and partly because he wanted to share the warmth Tim always seemed to lack, Bernard took his arm.

He didn’t remember most of the car ride, but he did remember the golden fields rolling past, the harps playing on one of Tim’s CDs, the drone of Tim’s voice, sounding like he was underwater.

Then he was home. The house. No welcome mat at the entrance, that had been stolen years ago, one night when he was maybe twelve or thirteen. It had a cat on it, ginger, and waving a pink paw as each guest stepped over it.

Tim offered to walk him up to the entrance, Bernard refused, kissed him goodbye, just a peck on the cheek in case anyone was watching, and ran off. Routing, really, a regular dance they tangoed in the fortnight since Bernard had first broken into the Wayne Manor. Ever since he began to integrate into the family, sneaking out at night when his parents were gone or asleep, making sure to be back before they returned or were awake for the first week, then not even bothering with that. Indifference isn’t something you really need to run from. Indifferent people never chase you.

His bed greeted him more warmly than either of his parents had, cool covers folded neatly from the previous evening. The last two nights, he didn’t even bother to pretend it was slept in before he left. No point, really.

He pulled the covers up to his chin, back pressed against the pillows between him and the wall, clutching the corner over his mouth. Was he hiding? This felt like hiding. Though his room wasn’t dark enough in the dawning autumn evening for the dark shadows to cast shapes on his wall, something that would have prompted his younger self to turn on the night life his mother had bought him. It was shaped like a frog, and he stared at it each night until he fell asleep, safe under his little green guardian’s unblinking watch. When he was ten, he’d come home to find the little guardian gone. He’d already learnt not to cry when he saw his father in the doorway, shaking his head. Don’t be so childish, Bernard. You were named after your grandfather, and he never cried. Don’t you want to be strong like him? Like me?

He woke up trapped, legs kicking against the blankets weighing him down, his arm trapped between the bed and the wall. His head screamed, and the plaster on his blistered hand had long since been scraped off in his blind panic to get out of his trap. Finally, he was free. Scrapes and splinters littered his arm and palm, the heel being the main victim. Elbow scraped to pieces.. But he was free. He was free. Right?

When he woke up the second time, with the pillows lodged firmly in the gap and his covers torn off and thrown on the floor, Bernard realised why he’d work up in such a state. He hadn’t fallen asleep alone in two weeks.

You’ll wake up alone too. Come back home, Bernard.

“BERNARD, GET UP!”

With a gasp, Bernard shot up out of bed. His heart seemed to be trying to hammer its way out of his chest, so loud he felt his blood roar in his ears.

The sheets on the floor tangled his feet as he tried to get his bearings, and he slammed into the floor, only saved by whatever soft thing he’d fallen onto. He was fairly certain he’d collected all the pillows in his room to shove between his bed and the wall, but maybe he’d pulled on out in his panic.

But when he looked, he saw the sheets were on top of it. The sheets that had been lying flat last night.

He poked the pillow that hadn’t been there last night, brow furrowed. It was firmer than his pillows tended to be, like the decorative pillows on his parents couch he never sat on. It twitched.

Bernard screamed.

He threw himself back, jarring his back against the wooden bedframe, kicking out at whatever the fuck had wormed it’s way under his bedsheets.

“What the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK.”

Frantically following the tube-like shape of the thing under his bed sheets, Bernard's eyes travelled further… further… further. Oh. Oh. What the fuck.

What looked like a long, thin slug trailed out of the end of the blanket, covered in a black tar-like substance, which seeped across the wooden floorboards, staining the bottom of his cabinets, darkening his rug. The slug itself trailed across his floor, up the wall, looping around three walls until it reached his door, where it disappeared from view. The walls dripped with the tar-like substance, brown bleeding across the once white surfaces. The slug thing went left out of the doorway.

In the direction of his parents’ room.

Bernard bolted up, ducking low as he sprinted out of the room to warn his parents. The hallway was full of more of the Things lined the walls and ceiling of the hallway, crossing over each other, looping around furniture, sometimes in such thick bundles Bernard couldn’t even avoid brushing past them as he ran, his skin crawling with revulsion at the sensation.

“Mom! Dad!”

Their room was empty.

Taking a second to assess the amount of Things crammed into the staircase, Bernard decided he was already covered in enough of whatever the gooey substance was that any more wouldn’t really matter. He sucked in a breath, braced himself, and dove headfirst down the tubes. He slid down, tumbling just at the bottom, landing in a heap in the only bare patch of floor.

His head screamed with pain.

No. His mother screamed, voice wretched, ripping out of her as she sprinted closer. “No, mom, no, get out! Get out! You need to run!”

“Darling, you hit your head, stay still!”

Footsteps approaching, almost running, but they weren’t allowed to run in the house. “MOM, RUN!”

“I’m here darling, I’m coming.”

She rounded the corner.

He reached out a hand, wishing he could stop her but knowing he was helpless.

And she ran through the Things.

Not over, not around. Through them.

The Things recoiled as she ran through them like they were nothing more than smoke, bunching up, darting away, tar spraying everywhere.

But Bernard had touched them, had slid down them, and fallen on them. He was still covered in the tar, and the bits that were drying had even begun to pull his skin tight, tacky like the tree sap from the trees he’d play on as a kid, pulling off the bark to reveal the bloody syrup beneath. The Things, the substance they secreted, it was just as real as those trees all those years ago. Wasn’t it?

Emmeline Dowd, his mother, his frail, reserved mother, ran through the Things, falling to the ground beside him, cupping his cheeks as tears welled in her eyes.

Why was she see through? Was she a ghost? Was she… no, she couldn’t be dead. She was his mom.

“Oh love, what happened? Are you ok?”

“Mom, there were- there were these things- tentacles, or slugs, I don't know- I don't know! I just woke up, and then they were everywhere, and I thought you were-” he choked, sobbing as he tried to warn her. “They’re still everywhere, can’t you see them?”

“No dear, there’s nothing there-”

“What is the boy rambling about now?”

The hands cupping his cheeks twitched, then pulled him in, burying his head in her shoulder.

“He’s saying he’s seeing monsters dear, he’s scared, I think-”

“Oh damn what you think,” snapped Robert Dowd, somewhere to Bernard’s left. “If the boys got into some ridiculous new age drugs I’ll be ringing up that’s kook school of his and be giving them a piece of my mind. It’s that scholarship program, I tell you, letting all the wrong sort from the wrong parts of Gotham in.”

“Robert, you can’t say things like that,” Emmeline hissed, her posture tensing, like a snake coiled to strike. She never usually stood up to her husband, but having a more open mind than Robert, her own friendship circle expanded outside of the upper middle class areas of Gotham, and was one of the few things she stood up to him for. Sometimes Bernard made it onto that short list too.

“I can say what I bloody well please, I’m the man of the house, aren’t I?”

“You’re the prick of the house,” Bernard mumbled.

A crash, and a photo frame landed just at his feet.

“Don’t start thinking you’re smart, boy. You’re going to end up just like your aunt, a disgrace! You have no clue how good you have it!”

“You mean the aunt who has two doctorates and has a published research journal every other month? Yeah, a real disgrace-“

Something, or rather someone, ragged on his by pajama sweatshirt collar, yanking him up. His mother cried out behind him, and his father towered over him.

“I don’t know where you all of a sudden decided you’re a comedian, but I’d suggest you stop.”

Bernard scowled, biting back his own suggestion to cut back on the brandy that rolled off his tongue in noxious fumes.

“Did I make myself clear?”

“You articulated yourself well for a drunk.”

The next second he was on the floor, his mother yelling. Screaming.

She was crouched over him, berating the ‘man of the house’, hand swiping at his legs whenever he came near.

For once, he made it onto Emmeline Dowd’s list of people to stand up for.

Warmth swelled in his chest, despite the heat stinging his cheek.

Bernard stared at the Things around him, which recoiled at the slight light that emanated from above him. He tried to open his eyes, despite the pain in his left, and saw his mother was now fully opaque, a warm glow emanating from her bunched fists. He reached out, stroking one of her small hands, wondering if his aunt wasn’t the only odd one of the family.

“Mom?”

“Quiet Bernard. Your father and I are talking. Get out, Robert, or put down that glass. You’ve gone too far this time.”

A laugh. “Ohh, I’ve gone too far, have I? What are you going to do, Emmeline? Leave me? Take the boy? Talk to your tramp friends about how mean I am? Get over yourself. This is my house, my drink, my sweat blood and tears I put into trying to raise a good young man. But here you are, insisting on belittling my efforts, raising a soft little boy who still thinks what he does matters. He’s nothing without our name, without my family name, and neither are you. My father got it wrong with my sister, he was too soft with her, always treated her. But me? He knew what to do with me, and now look at me! I’m a real man, I provide for your lavish lifestyle, give him a good education for him to waste it on wanting to be a vet of all things, and I now have enough money I could retire and never run out of money for the next century. I always go far, but it’s never too far. I’m always right where I want to be, and have everyone else right where I want them to be. So either he gets in line, or he gets out of my house.”

“Go to your room Bernard, your father and I clearly need to have a conversation when our heads are more clear.”

A gentle push, and he was in his feet, stumbling up the stairs as his parents Carrie don beneath him.

“Clearly he got caught in a fear has pocket yesterday, this are always a problem in the weeks after attacks-”

“-Always another excuse-“

“-I’m sorry-“

Those last two words always came. They meant Bernard would just be in his regular level of trouble, and nothing would change. His father was off the hook, and he was on it in his place.

The Things in his room bristled nearly constantly, more filling the old oak-lined floors as the voices below fell off, the tensions yet again going nearly unaddressed. They’d stick around, no getting away from them, hallucinations or not.

Well…

‘…either he gets in line, or he gets out of my house’

Had he ever really been in line?

Maybe it was time to fully commit, play his part as the newest Dowd that no one talks about at the dinner table, join his aunt as one of the different ones. There was something appealing about only being mentioned in quiet voices, like he was some monster they didn’t want to manifest.

He flipped open his phone, and before five minutes was up, he’d opened a new bank account, transferred all his funds, and begun looking up the cheapest housing areas in Gotham. Crime Alley was the obvious answer, and not one he was entirely against. No one would care who he was there. If his parents came looking, they’d mind their own business. If his parents came looking.

Finally, he found somewhere. A one bedroom apartment, close enough to the dangerous bit of Crime Alley to be near criminally cheap (he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth), and far enough from where Thomas and Martha Wayne were killed to not be weirdly pricey for the area. Only in Gotham would a public murder raise the value of the property around it. Either way, he was only a half hour walk from the Gotham Community College, so he could drop out of Gotham Prep no issue. Maybe he’d even change his degree, commit to the whole new doing what he wanted thing.

So, after three hours of arranging funds, hunting for both university courses and nearby jobs, and placing an offer on somewhere to live, Bernard finally knelt on his floor. The Things still bristled, but seemed to retract whenever he neared.

With the housing possibly sorted, his money all quietly transferred, and his new place on the GCC animal management, behaviour and welfare course already applied, finally Bernard came to the last part of his great escape.

An empty suitcase sat expectant in front of him, open and waiting to be filled with whatever Bernard decided to take with him into his new life. He was torn between reinventing himself and still wanting to stay the same. The guy he was now was the guy who survived the cult, the guy who lasted eighteen years under the same roof as Robert and Emmeline Dowd, the same guy who Tim Drake fell for. Why would he want to lose that?

His head turned fuzzy, and the single lamp on his desk seemed a hundred times brighter, the light splitting into his head behind his eyes. He groaned, stumbling up to turn it off, not even noticing the Things retract as he practically fell across the room. Even with the light off, the soft autumn light filtering through his window seemed to drive nails into his face. Across the room. Blinds shut. Things shifted. He rose. No. He fell. Hit the ground. Crawled to his bed. Crawled in. Pulled every blanket, pillow and stuffed toy he could find over his head. The static that came with shadows filled his senses, replacing the pain. He curled up, tucking his knees so tight he couldn’t breathe without gasping for air.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of fighting for air, for the pain to go away, his exhaustion chased off the panic, even if the pain didn’t fully dissipate.

Sleep crept up on him, accompanied by the soft tones of flutes as he drifted off.

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