#A WILD BARRY APPEARS

[beautyinsteadofashes]

“You know I don't like gossip, baby." She flinched at that plastic chipper tone. The kind he used to scare off Kooks when he’s drunk... “All this yapping you and Hollis have been doing....” he mimicked talking with his hands...and her eyes shot to him. Fury in her veins. He smirked happily at his small victory of getting her attention...“Say it to my face. Go on. Tell me what you did.” (ao3)

[witherby]

HI HI. SAME ANON :33anon here!!!

omg???? jfc christ? that was so good im shaking my cup for more 😭 i think the fact my ask is being used as a power shower is silly... i love it keep up the good work!

(side note ive done metamorphosis may i be 🎆anon.... i will be yapping at you on a later date o7)

Welcome to the club 🎆 I am smooching ur cheek

Hahaha...wouldn't it be so silly....if I used your ask again.....to post the second part hahahaha.....isn't that the silliest idea hahahaha.........

The Littlest Wayne: Uncertain Home

(Part 2 of 2)

Masterlist is Here!

"Let me make sure I've got this straight."

Everyone stiffens in their seats. When Batman says things like that, it means he is very, very close to yelling. Batman never yells unless his patience has reached its limit, his emotional threshold has bubbled over, or he hasn't slept in over six consecutive days. Given his usual activities, it could very well be a combination of the three, and the current situation is not helping.

"You —" he points a gauntleted finger at Manhunter, "— realized my child was showing signs of developing their powers six weeks ago, and told no one."

He turns to Superman and Diana next, talking through clenched teeth.

"And then you two, today, realized the same thing, indirectly told them they would no longer have a place in my home, and then they vanished under your cape."

He places his hands on the meeting table. Inhales. Exhales.

"No one attempted to reach out and express their concerns to me, the father, in either incident."

He slams his fists on the table. The wood splinters under the impact. Everyone flinches with it.

"AND NOW MY CHILD IS MISSING! DID I FORGET ANYTHING? DID I LEAVE ANYTHING OUT!?"

The silence afterwards is deafening. Bruce yanks his cowl off and slams it to the floor, running his hands through his hair.

"The Watchtower is under lockdown until further notice. We do not leave until either I find my kid, or I figure out how to track them down."

"Batman," the Flash chimes in, "I feel for you. This is a bad situation, but we can't all stay here; I have to —"

Bruce rounds the table and crowds Barry into his seat with near-inhuman speed. His eyes are wide and wild and his teeth are bared.

"We do not leave until I find them."

The lights briefly turn red and an automated voice comes over the intercom, alerting them that lockdown protocols have initiated. The heroes watch as blast shields cover the windows and the Zeta tubes deactivate, effectively blocking their only ways out.

Green Lantern re-enters the room from the observation deck with a determined expression.

"Checked the monitors and surrounding galaxy. Skies are clear, and earth-side we should be fine for at least a couple hours, so I went ahead and triggered the protocol."

"Hal!" Barry protests. "C'mon, I'm gonna be late to work again! It's not as easy for some of us to maintain our civilian covers, you know!"

"Well, then it sounds like we gotta find our missing Mouse fast."

Bruce presses a button on his gauntlet and pulls a small ball out of it, rolling it to the center of the table. A hologram screen pops up and shows a picture of you sitting in Tim's lap and enthusiastically looking at something on his computer with him. To the right of the image, a wall of text begins to appear, detailing observations made about your growth, health, and development of your powers.

"You already knew," Diana mutters, like the words have been punched out of her. Clark holds his head in his hands.

"Why didn't you tell us then, huh?" Oliver frowns. "Didn't think we could benefit from that information?"

"My child, my discretion," Bruce hisses. That shuts Ollie right back up. "This is everything I've been able to passively observe about their ability. They can latch onto any shadows in their immediate vicinity, up to a range of approximately one hundred feet, and until now has only used them for pathfinding, like solving puzzles or looking for small objects. What just happened today with Superman's cape is the first discovered instance of them being able to traverse into darkness itself."

"That's why the Watchtower is locked down," J'onn realizes. "If they can only travel so far with the shadows, chances are high that they're still in here."

"Yes."

"How do we pull them out if we find them?" Arthur speaks up, arms crossed. "Last I checked, no one else has shadow powers."

"Do what you can without risking injury to them or yourselves. If you can talk them out, that will be the ideal tactic. Any more questions?" Bruce waits a few seconds for anyone to speak up, then dismisses the holo-screen and rises to his full height. "Then everyone fan out, cast some shadows, and get to work."

--

Arthur is having no luck. He checks the furniture that was already casting shadows, like tables and beds and appliances, to no avail. Calling to you and feeling around those dark spaces isn't gonna get him anywhere.

Clark and Diana had picked up his cape and hunkered down under the fabric, gingerly asking you to please come out, Uncle Clark and Auntie Di are very sorry they implied what they did, they never meant to scare you, please please please come back.

Barry is zipping around the whole tower, checking high spaces and low, calling for you with a mixture of urgency and concern.

Ollie uses his body to cast a shadow under the fluorescent lighting and Dinah crouches in the space of it, patting the ground gently and urging you to appear. She insists everyone is worried and looking for you because they want you to be safe.

Bruce is frantic. He's visually very composed, but Hal can see the tremble in his hands as he slowly and methodically checks every single shadow he can find or create for signs of you.

"Bruce," Hal mutters, watching him check his cape for the fifteenth time in just as many minutes. "Bruce, sit down and breathe for a bit."

"Don't mention breathing," Bruce snaps. "This is unprecedented. I'm working with zero useful information and three of my teammates contributed to this situation in the first place. Can they just exist in darkness forever, or is there a limit before they get spit back out? Can they even get back out? Is there oxygen wherever they are? Are they safe or in any kind of distress? If you don't have answers to these questions or haven't found them yet, I don't want you talking to me."

He turns to check his cape again and almost runs right into J'onn.

"There was a shadow moving in the training room," he noted. "When I approached to investigate, it melted away. I found it important to tell you that Flittermouse seems to be active and uninjured judging by the ease in which that shadow moved."

The Manhunter leaves them again, phasing through the walls to continue searching for you. Bruce pulls his gloves off and rubs his face, sighing.

"Hal."

"I forgive you," comes the immediate reply. Hal places a hand on Bruce's back and offers him a thin smile. "You're a dad who's scared for your four-year-old kid. I think you're entitled to a little bit of bitchiness."

Bruce hums.

"Just a little bit, though. Like fifteen percent more bitch than your baseline. Which is to say, if you talk to me like that again I'm going to make a giant cartoon hammer and beat you to death with it."

Both men hear you giggle. Their heads whip around in the direction of the sound, and find a small, child-shaped shadow moulded into the corner. It's a strange thing, to look at a shadow with no source. It would be frightening if it wasn't you.

"Mouse?" Bruce immediately calls, stepping towards you. The giggling stops and the shadow shrinks. He crouches down, palms extended. "No no no! Don't go, don't go anywhere, please. Can I talk to you?"

You don't respond. Bruce isn't entirely sure if you can, in your current form. You haven't run away yet, however, so he inches just a bit closer.

"I'm...there's...." He stops and starts, searching for the best words to use. "Mouse, there was a misunderstanding. No one is making you leave. I'm not going to give you up or send you away, I promise."

"...m e t a h u m a n..." you mutter. Both Bruce and Hal shiver. It sounds like darkness itself whispering directly into their ears, faint and echoing and all-encompassing.

"Yes, that's what people with skills like yours are called," he confirms.

Your shadow doesn't move for a while. Bruce shuffles closer, palms extended, and is about to ask you to come out, but then your entire form wobbles and starts shrinking even more.

"...n o m e t a s i n G o t h a m..." you say, and the sadness in your voice is so potent Hal has to brace himself against the wall.

"No!" Bruce says, pressing his palm against the wall just a second too late. You dissolve and disappear. "That's not — ffffffuck."

He presses his forehead to the wall and closes his eyes, taking slow, deep breaths to avoid screaming. It takes a while.

"They're not going to talk to me," he eventually says. "They're scared of me, of that damned rule I —"

He cuts himself off and rubs a hand down his face.

"You have to do it."

"Me? Specifically?" Hal asks.

"You're their favorite uncle." Bruce pushes himself off the floor and rests his hand on Hal's forearm. "They adore you. They ask when you're going to visit Gotham again all the time. If anybody's gonna get them to understand that they're not in any trouble or danger of losing their family because of something I did, it's gonna be you."

"Whoa. No pressure," Hal says. He knows it's true though — you absolutely adore Hal, and the feeling is mutual. You feel almost like his own kid. He's just as scared as Bruce is about your current situation. "Okay...alright, I got this. Listen, tell the others that Mouse probably isn't gonna come out for 'em. Go hang out in the meeting room and gimme an hour alone. I'll bring them back."

Bruce nods, but he seems hesitant to leave the part of the hall where they spotted your shadow. Hal gives him a small nudge and he eventually turns away, his boots clocking softly against the floor.

Hal inhales slowly, holds it, then exhales for a count of ten.

He's got this.

--

He does not have this. Hal walked into an empty corridor and flicked all the lights off, choosing to sit in the darkness and try calling out to you for almost thirty minutes. There's been no luck.

He sighs and uses his ring to construct a small bear, illuminating the immediate space around him in green, and makes it walk around.

"Y'know you used to love playing with my constructs," he murmurs. "We had this game I made up, where you would chase after whatever toy I made as fast as you could and try to catch it. I let you win a lot."

He makes a construct of you as a much smaller infant, not yet able to walk, crawling eagerly after the bear.

"You'd grab the little toy and hug it tight, and then come show me you got it. And I'd scoop you up and give you a cookie before we did it all again. We had to really tone down the cookie part because you got sick one time. Bruce made me sleep on the floor for a week. Not even one of the million couches in the manor. The floor. It was the worst."

He hears the surrounding darkness around him giggle. Hal leans against the wall and heaves a large, relieved sigh.

"Hey, kid," he says softly. "S'good to hear you."

You don't respond. He tries not to feel discouraged, instead seizing the opportunity presented.

"I'm not gonna ask you to come out, but if you don't mind...I'm kinda lonely. D'you think we could play that game again?"

Hal vanishes the constructs and makes a new one — a small, stuffed bat toy. He makes it flap its little wings and flop in circles.

"Think you can catch it? This one's a bit feisty."

Nothing happens for a few seconds. Hal feels himself growing nervous, and he's about to abandon the idea and suggest something else, but then the bat just vanishes. The construct is sucked up into the shadows, like darkness itself came up and hugged it into the void. A knot in his chest comes undone.

"That," he says, "was awesome. Okay, here's another one. Even feistier than the last."

This goes on for a while. Hal makes something for you to chase, you emerge from the dark just long enough to pull it in with you, and the process is rinse and repeat. Eventually, though, you come out of the shadows more and more, staying out of it longer and longer to chase around the conjured toys, until you're just tossing them into the shadows with gleeful little cheers.

"Got it!" You cry, jumping up to reach another one, this time shaped like an owl. You're panting from exertion and grinning widely at Hal, just standing and hugging it to your chest. "I win?"

"You win again," Hal agrees, expression painfully fond. He adores you wholeheartedly. "C'mere and get a victory hug, kid. Don't have any cookies on me, but we'll do a raincheck on that."

You go to him easily, practically collapsing in his lap, and rest your head against his chest while you idly pet the glowing owl toy. The area is bathed in dim green, enough to see each other without strain but still casting more than enough shadows for you to hide in again if you wanted.

"Fantastic job," Hal murmurs, kissing the top of your head. You nuzzle into his chest even more, hiding your face. "We definitely have to do that again some time. Don't you think?"

You start to nod, but the motion is jerky. You hesitate, then shrug, hugging the toy tighter.

"Oh, Mousey," he says, running his fingers through your hair. "You didn't think your powers would make Uncle Hal stop wanting to play with you, did ya?"

You slowly nod again, curling in on yourself.

"Well, that's just plain wrong. I love you, honey. Everybody loves you, y'know? You're smart, and adorable, and soooo much fun to be around," Hal insists, giving you a quick squeeze. Your mouth twitches like you're trying not to smile. "And it's gonna be way more fun now that you have cool shadow powers! Hide and seek might get a little challenging, but we'll make it work."

"...and Daddy?" You mutter. "Will he...want to play, too?"

"I know Daddy would love to play any game you wanted," Hal swore. "Daddy loves you more than anything in the whole wide world. And you know what else?"

"What?" You ask, lifting your head. You look at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows, hanging onto his every word.

"Sometimes Daddy makes mistakes. Like creating dumb rules he shoulda broke years ago."

You look away, snuggling further into Hal.

"What if...Daddy don't wanna break the rule?" You whisper.

Hal curls around you almost protectively, kissing your head again.

"Then he's a big, smelly dummy, and I'll take care of you instead," he promises. "You can live at my house, and I'll still bring you to the Watchtower to hang out with everyone and play games, and maybe, if you're extra good, I'll take you on vacation in outer space. I'll show you things you've never seen, like planets with four moons, and people as tall as skyscrapers, and space food that turns your hair all different colors. It'll explode your tiny head!"

"Nooo!" You giggle, grinning. "I don't want a exploded head!"

"Hmm...you drive a hard bargain kid," Hal says. "Okay, I won't give you explodey-head food. But only because you said so."

He lets you get your laughter out, then gently pats your back to regain your attention.

"I know you're very scared," he says, "but I promise this doesn't change the fact that you are so, so incredibly loved. I bet if you gave the others a chance, they'd be more than willing to prove it. Especially your dad."

You tighten your grip on the owl in your arms, bottom lip wobbling for a moment.

"Could you give him a chance, Mouse?" Hal asks. "If you don't want to, that's fine. We can work an arrangement out and always try again a different day. But I know he would be really, really excited to see you again."

You stare at Hal, face tight in contemplation. He waits patiently, continuing to rub small circles in your back.

His patience is rewarded when you bury your face in his chest again, nodding.

"Want daddy," you whisper. Hal settles you more securely in his arms and immediately rises to his feet, relishing the burst of satisfaction and relief in his chest.

He takes you back into the meeting room. Bruce immediately stands up from the table when he spots you curled up in Hal's embrace, hands twitching like he wants to hold you himself.

He moves with all the carefulness of someone approaching a wild animal. His face is uncharacteristically open, broadcasting his worry for you and relief that you're unharmed.

"Hi, sweet pea," Bruce mutters, silk-soft, and that's all it takes to make you start sobbing and reach for him. Your father doesn't hesitate, sweeping you up and giving assurance after assurance that you are just as treasured and loved as you've always been, that he is so happy to be your dad, that you belong in Gotham and that will never change no matter what.

The lockdown gets lifted from the Watchtower. Several heroes, after conveying their relief and gratitude over your safety, take their leave. Diana and Clark stay behind to apologize profusely, both to you and Bruce, for implying that you would ever be unwelcome in your own home just for being different. It's easy for you to forgive them, but Bruce is grinding his jaw a bit, so they excuse themselves for the night and take their leave.

"Well." Hal claps his hands together and yawns. "I'm ready for a drink and a bed. What do we say we hit the road, huh? C'mon, B, let's get Flittermouse back home. I've hit my daily quota for adventure."

Bruce nods, walking with you back to the Zeta tubes. You've already nodded off in his arms, drained from your stressful day.

"Thank you, Hal," he says, preparing to warp home. "Come by after the kids are in bed. Let me repay you properly."

"Y'know, normally I'd be all over that," Hal smirks, "but I'm seriously beat. Can I cash my reward in tomorrow?"

Bruce gives him a small smile. "Whenever you want. Come by anyway, if you like. We don't have to do anything."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you later, then." Hal crosses his arms and relaxes against the corridor wall, smiling down at your dozing form. "You take care. Both of you."

Bruce thanks him again, disappearing in a flash of light. When Hal drops by later that evening, he finds his boyfriend asleep with you in his arms, clinging to his shirt and drooling on his chest as you coast peacefully in Dreamland.

Before joining the cuddle pile, he finds that sitting on the nightstand, written in a combination of pen and crayon, is a contract holding both yours and Bruce's signatures:

The rule against Metahumans in Gotham is hereby null and void forever and ever.

Signed by: Daddy & Mousey

[nightingale-prompts]

Horrible Creatures-DCxDP prompt

Studying ghosts is always confusing. They aren't humans and they aren't aliens. They are entities unlike other sentient lifeforms.

Currently, three of them have taken up residence in the Watchtower. Not bound by the rules of mortals, the heroes had to make peace with them.

They had a system in place. Leave the big one alone at all costs. The middle one was in charge. And the little one will steal your food.

A good question is what are they?

Sometimes they appear perfectly human even bearing a resemblance to Clark, Bruce or Diana. They only do this when they wish to communicate. Sometimes they fly about with wispy tails instead of legs. This is for when they fly outside the base in space. Other times they change into half human half beast things as they lurk around corners of the tower. This is for when they get hungry and want to scare Barry or Hal.

Most of the day they just sleep. Or what they think is sleep. The big one likes to find the hottest place to plop down and nap like the sun or the furnace. The middle one likes it cold so he's usually curled up in the walk-in freezer. The little one likes sleeping either in tight spaces like the vents or in the open like on the table in the middle of a meeting.

Diana once scolded her about acting properly to get her off a stack of documents. In response, the little ghost changed her form into that of a small cat. She then proceeded to yowl annoyingly until Clark held her throughout the meeting.

After that, the ghost favored turning into little beasts to pester the heroes. For what reason? Fun.

The following day the middle one waited until Bruce got a glass of water to shove his muzzle into the cup. When Bruce got a second cup the ghost wanted that cup instead. The only solution was to designate cups for each of the ghosts. It solved the issue until they wanted their own placemats for when they eat. Keep in mind they only like stealing food. They do have their own but unless they can bully you out of eating it they don't want it.

You can't even call them pets. They are sentient beings and they can communicate. They are closer to children, really ornery children.

Taking a nap was liable to summon one. Hal learned that if he dozed off they would join him and bury him.

The big one is roughly the size of a bear and just has heavy and has no respect for your space. It's his space now and he uses his size to his advantage by constantly bullying Clark and Barry.

What are they going to do? Stop them?

When Constantine finally got off his "vacation" he came to assess the situation he became a lightning rod for the ghost's attention. The ghosts followed him around loving the aura around him and the irritable emotions he gave off.

"So they have just been running wild and you let them. No wonder they are acting like this. They don't respect you so they do what they want. They must also like you because they would have left by now if they didn't."

Clark holding Dani

Danny trying to eat Bruce's food

Hal trying to sleep

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Enrique Iglesias - Bailamos 1999

"Bailamos" is a song by Spanish singer Enrique Iglesias. It was written by Paul Barry and Mark Taylor and produced by Barry and Brian Rawling, the same team which wrote and produced Cher's hit "Believe". The track first appeared on a limited edition of Iglesias's Spanish studio album Cosas del Amor (1998) and was released as a single in parts of Latin America and Europe. After attending one of Iglesias's concerts in March 1999, Will Smith asked Iglesias to contribute to the soundtrack of his upcoming movie Wild Wild West and "Bailamos" was chosen to appear. Later it was included on Iglesias's fourth and debut English-language album, Enrique (1999).

The track peaked at number one for two weeks on the US Billboard Hot 100 and became the 11th number-one single for Iglesias on the Billboard Hot Latin Tracks chart. The single also peaked at number one on the Billboard Hot Dance Club Songs. "Bailamos" topped the Spanish Singles Chart for five weeks and reached the top 10 in Walloon Belgium, Canada, Germany, Iceland, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Sweden, Switzerland and the UK. In New Zealand "Bailamos" was the second-most successful single of 1999.

"Bailamos" received a total of 79,4% yes votes!

[often-daydreaming]

Wishes

"I just wish I could help him."

Tim sighed, tired eyes staring at the rows of monitors searching for any kind of change as he recalls the last thing he can remember Bart saying to him before everything went to hell when a barrier appeared around Central City cutting it off from the rest of the world. It had taken three days before anyone even realized what had happened and that was only after Barry returned from a mission in space and ran face first into the glowing green monstrosity trapping his friends inside some sort of otherworldly magical nonsense.

And it was kind of depressing that, that was all they knew after two months.

It was pure magic, old, ancient magic that had his friends living out the kind of picture perfect high school drama you'd find on tv and they only figured out that much after Cyborg accidentally picked up a weak signal being broadcast to anyone who got close enough.

That was the only real way anyone had to check up on everyone trapped inside and in a way Tim was kind of glad it was mainly focused on his friends and the meta kid Bart had been trying to introduce to everyone cause he had constant proof they were alive. Everyone else wasn't as lucky.

He was also mostly annoyed though cause the League couldn't even damage the stupid barrier anymore. They'd cracked it once, but that just seemed to annoy whatever was powering the thing because it spread out for miles in every direction in response to the Justice League's attempts at forcing open a door and ended up swallowing dozens of government agents and heroes who couldn't escape the danger zone in time.

"Any changes?"

"None." Like always.

He knew Dick was just as worried as he was about everyone trapped inside but the glowing green eyesore wasn't reacting to anything anymore.

Science didn't work.

Magic annoyed it.

They'd finally started looking into some of the more off world solutions that were available to them but so far nothing anyone tried seemed to affect it and he should know since he hasn't stopped monitoring the situation.

He's offered up rewards, called in every single favor he's ever been owed as Tim Drake and Red Robin and read up on everything magical he could get his hands on.

He's even hacked every government agency on the planet on the off chance there might have been a possible answer hidden away somewhere and was nowhere near as professional or gentle as he usually was while doing it. He was tired, worried and more than a little angry and didn’t care about how much damage he did to anyone's computer systems as he ripped even the slightest bit of information out of any server he came across taking anything and everything from Waller's own notes on the matter to research material from a rogue sect of the government calling themselves the GIW.

That had led him down a rabbit hole of government conspiracies and cover ups that would have normally kept him busy for weeks but he had passed on the worst of it to the rest of the League and focused on the handful of files they had on an off the books company called Fenton Works.

They apparently had a functional portal with more than enough power to punch a hole between dimensions so hopefully an investigation into them would keep him busy while they waited for a response from the Green Lanterns.

-_- -_- -_-

"You need to stop this Desiree."

"Why, Phantom and his paramour are happy aren't they?"

She already knew the answer since it was her magic wrapping such a large area and her grin only grew as she watched Undergrowth's little champion twitch at her words.

Because Phantom was happy.

He was the happiest he's ever been in a very long time and well out of the way on a long overdue 'vacation'. So what if everyone was taking his absence as an excuse to run a little wild. The avatar of the Speed Force didn't mind and Clockwork wasn't interfering either so she wasn't overstepping anywhere that really mattered since the Ancient of Time usually erased anyone who went too far with his favorite student.

He hadn't even popped in to deliver any of his usual threats when she overheard the little speedster's heartbroken wish so she banished the girl back to Amity Park without a second thought.

They couldn't force her to grant wishes anymore, not after Phantom went out of his way to help alter her curse and their constant whining was starting to get annoying.

If it wasn't Undergrowth's champion then it was the Pharaoh or Phantom's sister.

None of them could take the hint and leave well enough alone.

Cause, the thing is, she left more than enough wiggle room in the wish for Phantom to get free if he ever really wanted to get free and she wasn't sure he did.

Oh, on some level he was probably well aware of something being off about the world but he was purposely ignoring that feeling.

He was happy in the world she shaped around him and his little speedster and Desiree wasn't about to ruin that for either of them.

She'd just head back to her lair if anyone tried.

No one could get to her there, not without wasting a lot of power so maybe she'd finally have a little piece and quit to enjoy her favorite show in peace.

It's not much but I wanted to try and think up a way for Danny to experience his very own version of WandaVision.

Essentially a sad Danny from any kind of reason really but for now I'm just blaming his entire life for this one and a desperately trying to be helpful Bart who has vague memories of a future with Danny get a starring role in a new life that was perfectly prepared just for them at the cost of pretty much everyone else.

I don't remember what it's called but there was a Disney movie about a superhero school so I'm kind of imagining that and a lot of really cheesy musical moments thrown in somewhere while everyone outside of the barrier is left worrying about their friends and family.

I know it's weird, but my mind just comes up with really weird ideas when I'm tired.

[mickey-1996]

The Phantom

Genre: Angst with a hint of fluff

Ship: Rafe x Pogue!Reader

Summary: The scene at the end of OBX 1 when things get heated in the Phantoms boat house. Rafe and readers secret relationship gets exposed and it ends with Kiara giving an ultimatum.

Not completely proof read

—

You and Rafe had a complicated relationship. As a pogue, you spent your days with John B and his group of friends, enjoying adventures and the freedom of the Outer Banks. Rafe, however, was a Kook Prince, benefiting from the perks of his status. You never really cared about the rivalry between Pogues and Kooks; in fact, you found it cringe. Still, you worried about the consequences if anyone found out about your secret romance with Rafe.

You were afraid, not because of what others might think, but because you cared about Rafe’s safety. You knew he would do anything to keep your relationship a secret because he worried so much about how his father would react. Rafe's fear was not about the opinions of the wealthy people in the Outer Banks; it was about the heavy expectations from his father.

Every moment you spent together was risky, and Rafe planned everything carefully. The secrecy of your relationship felt like a heavy burden, making him cautious. You balanced the excitement of your relationship with the fear of being discovered.

You, JJ, Pope, and Kie had been working on preparing Sarah and John B for their big escape to their new life. You had gotten food and fuel but were currently trying to get “The Phantom”, a boat that JJ’s dad owns, to the already decided departure location.

JJ raved on and on as the door of the building slide open and you finally got a good look at it.

“Jay this is a beauty right here,” You say gliding your hand along the side of the boat, there was a hint of sarcasm in your tone. It was pretty dusty and smelled of old salt water.

“Really, right in front of her,” He says motioning to the boat “You wouldn’t be smoking weed if it wasn’t for her,”

You just quipped a little ‘mhm’ before looking back at the boat. You weren't fully immersed in the wild drinking and smoking antics that the Pogues indulged in. You would if the day was stressful or in celebration, but you usually had work sooner than you would like and didn’t feel like getting fired in case they smelled anything on you. Most places wouldn’t care since almost everyone on the island participated in the usage, but the country club had stricter rules. Where you both fortunately and unfortunately worked at. It’s good money, but you had to deal with kooks all day.

As you, JJ, and Kie finally got moving the sound of tired screeching caught your attention.

“Pope. Finally” Kie runs towards the back entrance before quickly stopping.

Rafe walks in. You stand there in a mix of shock and annoyance, well, all three of you do. “Hey there, what’s going on? JJ?” Nothing is said for a beat or two until Rafe taunts again, “How are you guys doing?”

Your guys’ attention turns at the sound of a whistle. You watch as Barry rounds Kie’s car. He clears his throat briefly, and a cocky smirk appears on his face. “Well, well,”

You look back at Rafe as he creeps up behind you. So many silent words are shared when you lock your eyes. It’s mostly in the look you give him of “What the hell are you doing?” “You need to go home before the cops realize they got the wrong guy,” and “Please don’t.” He tried to ignore these messages as he looked away, but he knew deep down he should listen.

Your attention turns back to Barry as you hear a clicking of a gun. JJ’s hands immediately raise, and that same look of annoyance and shock graces his features.

“See, don’t think I forgot about you and me on the side of the road.” Barry steps closer. “I’m here because I want my motherfuckin' money.” He grabs the side of JJ’s neck and pushes the gun into him.

Kiara screams his name and steps closer, but Rafe picks her up. She kicks and thrashes, screaming almost incoherently.

There’s an internal struggle happening inside you about what to do. You could intervene in the situation between Barry and JJ, but that could put both of you in danger of getting shot. You could choose to do nothing, but that would make you feel like a bad friend and a coward. Finally, you could help Kiara. Rafe is unlikely to harm either you or her intentionally, making this the safer option. Ultimately, Rafe tends to listen to you in the end.

You turn to Kie and Rafe, Barry yelling at JJ as the blonde lays pinned to the floor by the brunette. You quickly move to intervene.

“It’s not you who we want Kie,” Rafe explains, “Where’s John B?”

You were currently between them trying to split them apart, which they both luckily complied with. If it were anyone else, you know Rafe would be so quick to get violent.

“I don’t know,” Kie yells before slapping him with on strike to the cheek.

You’re shocked, to say the least. There was only one word in your mind dumbass. You love Kie but you're not sure what she was trying to accomplish, she was just escalating the already escalated situation.

“I really wish you didn’t say that,” Rafe gently pushes your tight grip off of his shirt before stepping closer to her. You try to push yourself between them, daring you, but at least your friend will be okay.

“I know what you did,” Kie starts.

"Kie, please don’t," you whisper, glancing back at her with worry. You admire her courage as she speaks her beliefs, even when things are falling apart around her. But right now, her strong determination feels wrong to you. It makes you uneasy to see her standing tall, not aware of the possible consequences.

“What? What’d I do?”

“You murdered Peterkin!” she yelled, and fear flickered in Rafe’s eyes. Even Barry stopped his harassment of JJ at those words, but it was only for a brief couple of seconds.

He looked down at you, as if searching for something—anything—that might help him. He was looking for you to say the right words, words that could save him, anchor him, or perhaps help him forget the chaotic situation you were in. He was waiting for you to speak, but you couldn’t find the words. What could you possibly say that wouldn’t lead to something worse?

Something snapped in Rafe, and in that high-stakes moment, his movements felt faster than the speed of light. He shoved you aside, making you stumble into an open drawer filled with miscellaneous tools. It didn’t hurt, but a stinging sensation flared up on your side. In a swift motion, he had a grip on Kie’s neck, choking her. You’d never witnessed this kind of violence directed at someone so defenseless. Rafe could be a jerk, but he had always drawn the line at harming women and usually kept his acts of terror away from your watchful eyes.

You moved with a similar speed back to their side. His mind wasn’t in his usual state, You couldn’t treat this the same. It don’t matter if your friends knew anymore.

“Rafe, Baby,” You plea gently resting one hand on his bicep.

There’s pain in his eyes, and he quickly realizes what he has done. His grip loosens significantly, but he doesn’t step back. “Don’t you ever say those words again,” he warns. He loses the confidence he had before; it’s almost desperate as he yells, “Where’s John B?”

All the commotion in the room between Barry and JJ, as well as between Rafe and Kie, meant you hadn’t heard Pope arrive. However, he made his presence known as he struck Rafe’s back with a metal pole.

“Don’t touch her!” Pope yells trying to strike Rafe but this time he ducks.

Rafe lands a solid punch on Pope, knocking the pole from his grasp. However, Pope quickly regains his footing, dodging Rafe's follow-up strike, and counters with a series of hard punches to Rafe's face. Gripping Rafe’s grimy gray t-shirt, Pope relentlessly hammers his fist into Rafe, delivering blow after blow.

You try to get between it, not caring for your safety anymore but Kie holds your wrist as she finishes her last wheeze.

Barry notices that his “Boyfriend” isn’t winning his fight anymore and turns his attention from kicking Jay to a pulp to the commotion in front of you. JJ sees his window though and grabs Barry’s foot as he goes to intervene.

“Kie, Kick it!” JJ yells but to you it’s clouded by white noise as you watch Pope, your close friend who wouldn’t hurt a fly, beat the shit out of your secret lover.

“Pope!” You yell, finally finding your voice.

Your friends catch onto your efforts of bringing Pope back to reality and assist you.

A plethora of “That’s enough” “Pope” and “Snap out of it” are thrown but that still doesn’t stop Pope from grabbing nearby rubber and wrapping it around Rafe’s throat.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces. It’s like an alarm clock waking you from the trance you were in. You decide to get physically involved as you pull Pope back, it’s not until Kiara screams “Look at me” that he finally lets go of Rafe.

“Shit, oh, shit,” JJ mumbles looking down at Rafe. He’s wheezing and coughing on the concrete floor both covered and surrounded by his own blood.

Kie goes to comfort Pope while you drop to your knees, pulling Rafe into your arms. They just stare at you; it’s as if the world has gone silent.

“Baby,” you whisper softly, brushing his hair away from his face with gentle movements. “Shh… I’ve got you.” Tears stream slowly down your cheeks as you comfort him. Rafe’s hand lightly grips the side of your arm, not roughly, but as a grounding gesture. “It’s okay, Rafe. It’s going to be okay,” you breathe out, barely audible. One arm supports him while your other hand caresses the side of his face, being careful not to smear the blood.

It might sound cheesy, but it felt like you two were the only ones who existed. Even with your three friends watching and Barry listening in, whenever you and Rafe locked eyes, sharing that deep understanding, it always seemed like you were the only two people alive.

You weren’t worried about society anymore or his father, you wanted to protect him and love him.

It was probably only a minute but it felt like you were crying forever before Rafe’s breathing leveled.

Your friends around you just looked at each other, silently saying “what the fuck” in 82 different languages.

“Guys, we gotta go, like now,” Kiara rushed breaking the silence. Her and the other two followed her to the car so they could hook on the boat.

You stayed on the floor, ignoring her words. Only a couple beats passed before Rafe spoke, his voice strained from Pope’s earlier attacks, “Go,” he starts,”I’ll be fine, Baby,”

“But-“

“I know,” He cracks a small smile even if his words were a mix of sadness and disappointment.

You gave him a small sideways kiss on his lips, that only JJ saw out the corner of his eye. You whisper silent goodbyes before your stand, softly laying him on the ground below.

The other pogues were already in the car waiting for you. The air was tense the second you got in, they all stared at you.

“Y/N… wanna tell us what that was?” Kie said cautiously as you wiped a final tear from your eyes.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you try to dismiss but you should’ve known they were gonna dismiss the subject that quickly.

“I don’t wanna hear that,” JJ starts, whipping his head toward you, “Why didn’t you tell us you’re fucking the kook prince?”

“Who said we were fucking?” I question with the same attitude.

“Oh please,” He rolls his eyes before raising his voice three octaves to mock me, “It’s okay Baby, I got you, I love you Rafe’s Poo,”

“I never said all that,”

“You didn’t have to, your eyes said it all,” Pope chimes in.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” I turn my gaze to the passing terrain as Kiara drives, “It’s okay when John B does it but it crosses the line when I do,”

“This is different, Y/N. Sarah never tried to kill us, that psycho you call baby makes it his goal everyday,” JJ explains.

They were right but even if you explained why you cared so deeply for Rafe they wouldn’t understand.

“Bros before Hoes, I don’t want you two seeing each other ever again,” Kiara orders, “Do you understand?”

“Yeah” I grumble, “You act like I don’t already followed that code.”

“Oh really,”

“Really, It’s not like I cheer him on when he’s beating your ass. I help you guys always. Sorry I comfort him when Pope decides to try and make his kill count one,” The amount of attitude dripping from your voice was almost sickening, you should’ve just left it at a simple “yeah”.

The car screeches and Kiara turns her whole body to face me, “Promise to never speak to him again or get out of my fucking car right now,”

———

A/N: if i’m being honest the last bit was just me winging it but I might make a pt. 2. Wait… why this lowkey cringe. YALL ELIMINATE ME.

SEND REQUESTS

Master list + More

[cryptocism]

So, out of curiosity (AND a slight fear of messing with what you've laid out so clearly in Frequency, which I see as the most reasonable and rational explanation to Thad's character inconsistencies basically, ever), I am wondering if this version of Inertia from Flash #760 fits into the Too Many Thads AU anywhere? From what I can tell, he's the only one not mentioned in your very thorough (and impressively detailed, he was at boomerang's funeral, excuse me sir why are you here???) timeline of Thad appearances. Would you consider him one of the clones we get from the AU, like Six? Or maybe just Thad himself given he's sort of just... chilling in the Speedforce lol. Or did you just not consider him given it's yet another instance of Thad appearing, doing something wild, then disappearing as quickly as he came haha. (Also, I just noticed he says vibrational FREQUENCY, nice👏)

i did... kinda include this iteration. but admittedly it's pretty brief, and the bits of story that take place in the speed force sit in dreamy abstraction rather than solid prose

start of chapter 2 when Thad is running thru the speed force:

He thinks he sees the Flash, once or twice. Tick tock tick tock. You’re running out of time, Barry. But he often thinks he sees lots of people. Once, he thought he saw Max. But the memories exist in his mind the same way a daydream would, and he can’t be sure if it was real.

The "tick tock tick tock" line is taken directly from #760

compared to the other threads of canon that Frequency is written around, it's definitely more on the borders of believably. The "tick tock" line and the bit where Thad threatens to snap his fingers and "blast Barry's mind to pieces" harkens back to the Kid Zoom era and Rogues Revenge, which fucks with my attempt to differentiate this Inertia as a separate person from Kid Zoom. but the hiccup feels minor enough that i think it still works

(and on a tangential note the whole "i'll snap my fingers and blast your mind to pieces" line straight up doesn't make sense to me because YES Kid Zoom famously snapped his fingers and exploded a baby, but he accomplished that by fast-forwarding that baby's timeline so quick that its literal molecules shook apart under the stress. Barry is a speedster and would not respond to timeline manipulation in that way - if at all - because his molecules are already used to that kind of shit. it's a weird and out of place threat to make and i think Williamson may have gotten the impression that Kid Zoom acquired the power of spontaneous combustion which he Fucking Did Not ok rant over)

the general idea i was going for was: Thad is running on rage, sees Barry, has the brief confrontation in #760 where Barry mostly just feels bad for him, and then disappears back into the storm. Implication being that Thad has actually had a couple different interactions with people during his 5 years in the speed force (Eobard, Max, Barry, etc) who try to convince him of things or promise him things, but staying for that long in the speed force (without being dead) fucks with perception a little bit, especially perceptions of Time. so when he's out and looking back on it, Thad can't totally discern what happened, what didn't, or in what order.

also the attendance at Captain Boomerang's funeral gets a shout out near the end of chapter 8 when Bart is going through Six's collection of Four's old stuff:

Some of the items on the shelf he didn’t recognize. A shot glass. A funeral pamphlet for one Digger Harkness. Several empty syringes and auto-injectors all meticulously arranged. A variety of small gadgets and devices that Bart couldn’t place.

because the funeral is technically Inertia's return after the events of Mercury Falling, I translated that as Four's first appearance in the 21st century

[medievalandfantasymelee]

THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE

QUALIFYING ROUND: 118th Tilt

“Man With Snake”, Edward II (1991) VS. King Philip II, The Lion in Winter (1968)

Propaganda

“Man With Snake”, Edward II (1991) Portrayed by: Barry John Clarke

“Credited simply as "Man with Snake" for his brief appearance in Derek Jarman's glowing, homoerotic re-imagining of Edward II, a golden thong- and crown-clad Clarke performs a languid dance with a snake coiled above his shoulders and— only five minutes into the film— becomes an iconic figure of New Queer Cinema. It's a powerful moment that invites the audience to watch Edward's diversions through an explicitly gay gaze. He's probably less of a set character than he is a symbol of desire and danger entwining, but I'd still like to plead his case. (Cont. Below the cut)

Philip II, The Lion in Winter (1968) Portrayed by: Timothy Dalton

“I will forever and always have a crush on Timothy Dalton on this movie. Philip is definitely a side character in it, for sure, but it's still a great performance (especially considering it was Dalton's film debut!) and he's also so cute.”

Additional Propaganda Under the Cut

Additional Propaganda

For Man With Snake:

"Jarman counters the trope of homosexual theft visually with the triumphant figure of Man with Snake. The Dantesque merging of snake and thief is replaced by an erotic dance in which the gilded youth raises his phallic partner above his head and seductively kisses it on the mouth [...] Jarman clears away all overdetermined theological meanings to revel in the purely aesthetic impact of the phallic dancer. All the ghosts from Dante’s snakepit are conjured away in the film and replaced with the solid presence of a single gorgeously spotlit male body." (from James Miller, ‘Man with Snake: Dante in Derek Jarman’s Edward II’, in Metamorphosing Dante: Appropriations, Manipulations, and Re-writings in the Twentieth and Twenty-First Centuries)

TLDR, iconic hot gay snake man. Fun fact, the snake's name is Oscar! (As in Wilde?)”

For Philip II:

“I confess that I haven't actually watched The Lion in Winter, but I don't have to recognize that young Timmy Dalton is a total babe in it. Those eyes! That jawline! Real royals *wish* they were this hot.”

[lyledebeast]

New Thoughts on Visual Representations of Violence in The Patriot

As I was reading through reviews to plan a lesson on evaluating sources for my students, I kept seeing descriptions of The Patriot's extreme violence (which is wild looking back from 2024!) and of Tavington's excessive cruelty. And it occurred to me that anyone who had not seen the film would probably expect those two things to be connected, and they would be resoundingly incorrect.

The most striking example of Tavington's violence is, of course, the burning of Pembroke Church. The scene is visually arresting, but for very different reasons than we might expect seeing Tavington's superior officer describe his tactics as "brutal" and learning the populace has named him "the butcher." In one a wide shot of the interior, fading sunlight is shining through the windows, illuminating the congregation, all of them in cool tones so that the one bit of color that catches the eye is the back of Tavington's red jacket as he addresses them from his horse. It looks like an 18th century painting. It looks like it could be a shot from Stanley Kubrick's Barry Lydon (1975). The same goes for the wide shot with the church going up in flames as the British dragoons and regulars look on. What is absent from this scene is actual visualization of violence. Once Wilkins lights the church and smoke begins pouring underneath the doors, the interior shots become very tight, focusing on the terrified faces of women and men. We never see them again. The scene inside the church ends before anyone can so much as cough, and John Williams' score rises in the external shots to drown out the screams of those trapped inside. The next visual reference we have to the Pembroke congregation is freshly dug graves with neat little white crosses.

Tavington's other kills are similarly crisp and clean. He kills both Thomas and Gabriel Martin with wounds through the torso, from a shot and saber respectively, and while they do not appear to be in the bloom of health when they die in their father's arms, nor are their deaths remotely messy. For reference, Wade is wounded through the torso in Stephen Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan from two years earlier, and his dying produces buckets of blood. In one scene featured only the extended cut, we are meant to believe Tavington and Bordon have tortured a man to death without either of them getting stained by so much as a drop of blood.

Meanwhile, Benjamin Martin is also evoking a classic of 70s cinema in a scene I will henceforth only describe as The South Carolina Tomahawk Massacre. When I went to Amazon Prime to pick up where I left off on my last viewing, I got to see this scene completely unprepared. And I was reminded that it is visually horrifying, audibly gut-wrenching, and goes on for longer than most kills in slasher movies. Most of the shots in this scene are close-ups of Gibson's blood-splattered face as he grunts with exertion and finally screams, redoubling his efforts. There is a score in this scene, but the thwack of the tomahawk going into the British soldier's back again and again cuts straight through it. There are also some PoV shots from Martin's sons' perspectives, but every time I see this scene I'm grateful that there's no Martin PoV shot. That would show a degree of bodily destruction I could never unsee.

Frankly, I'm at a loss as to why this is. Why is the villain's violence so sanitized it would be at home in one of Disney's darker offerings while the apparent hero takes a literal blood bath half an hour into the run time? Who is this audience that can stomach cannon balls tearing off men's heads and legs but not the charred corpse of a woman or child? Is there something rugged and manly about Martin getting soaked in blood like Carrie at the prom and something effete about Tavington's distaste for excess in his violence?

You tell me! There are more ways to take this than I could write about out or probably even imagine. Reblogs and replies are equally appreciated, as are DMs. I want to read someone else's thoughts for a change!

[systematic-and-somehow-tragic]

1 Actor, 2 Characters - Due South : Pilot

Inspired by my realization that RCMP Officer 2 (Pilot) and Jocelyn Kerr (The Ladies' Man) are both played by Jennifer (Jen) Parsons, I decided to check the cast list from IMDb and see if there were any other actors who appear as 2 (or more) different characters in the due South universe. To my surprise, there are several from the pilot alone! Many of these characters lack readily available screenshots (and some I couldn't identify by name alone) so I went through the episodes to compile this side-by-side list.

I may continue this search through the rest of the episodes, mainly relying on cast information from IMDb, the credits of the episodes themselves, and these wonderful annotated transcripts. And since some characters are unnamed and/or uncredited, maybe I'll even spot some new ones! Also, I am 100% open to contributions and/or corrections, so if anyone has anything they'd like to add, I'm all ears!

Without further ado, listed by actor and mostly in order of appearance...

Paul Gross - I almost skipped PG before remembering that he has indeed played another character on dS! So here's PG as Benton Fraser (Pilot) and as Frannie's German fiancé (Dead Men Don't Throw Rice, S4E5)

2. Kimberly Ange - RCMP Officer 1 and also appears in Victoria's Secret Part 2 (S1E21) as an attorney named Boswell (credited as Kim Ange)

and

3. Jennifer Parsons, the one who started it all - RCMP Officer 2 and also appears in The Ladies' Man (S4E3) as Jocelyn Kerr, who wants to have bark tea with Fraser (credited as Jen Parsons)

4. Scot Dentor/Denton - RCMP Officer 4 (credited as Scot Dentor in the pilot but listed on IMDb as Scot Denton). IMDb also identifies Scot Denton as the uncredited actor who plays Pierce (the ambassador targeted in The Edge, S2E9)

5. Barry Kennedy *** - This one I'm not so sure on. Barry Kennedy plays a character called Bert Jenkins in the Pilot but as far as I could tell, no character is called this aloud in the episode itself. Working backwards from Kennedy's other dS credit (Sgt Eddie Polito in The Ladies' Man, S4E3, uncredited, per IMDb), I still struggled with a definitive ID. Based on the annotated transcript of TLM, I believe the man on the right in TLM screenshot below is Kennedy's character Polito. Based on this, and the fact that the supporting characters seem to be credited roughly in order of appearance in the Pilot, my best guess is that Kennedy's dS Pilot character is the pilot who talks to Fraser about the lack of geese and beavers. They look like they could possibly be the same guy?? Maybe?

6. Philip Williams - Herb Lantrell, the pilot who gives Fraser the list of American dentists who'd been hunting in the Pilot, also appears as the arms dealer Lloyd P Nash (the P does not stand for pertinent) in Bird in the Hand (S2E4).

7. JD/Jack Nicholsen - the unnamed Airport Hustler (credited as such even though he does return the money to Fraser at the end of the Pilot) is also 2 other characters: Caulfield (one of the bad guys stealing pets in The Wild Bunch, S1E15) and Joey (Denny Scarpa/Lady Shoes' trigger man in Odds, S4E6)

8. Gene Mack - the Chicago Desk Sergeant in the Pilot is also credited as Mason Dixon, the associate of Devlin (the boxing trainer in Mountie & Soul S3E7). Mack is credited as Chicago Desk Sergeant but does have a name tag in the Pilot, although it is quite blurry.

9. Dan Lett - Dr. Weingarten (the dentist in the Pilot) is also Carver Dunn (the creepy fan who uses blackmail to barter for the singer Tracy's stockings in Mountie Sings the Blues, S4E7)

10. Ramona Milano - Francesca Vecchio! And also appears as Deputy Bernie in Dr. Longball (S4E1).

Dr. Longball of course has other main cast members playing different characters, but I plan to cover those as I make my way through the episodes chronologically in the hopes that it'll help me keep track of which actors/episodes I've checked.

11. Sandi Stahlbrand - TV Reporter Shelley Perry from Channel 6 News in the Pilot and TV Reporter Tracy Wightman (apparently from Channel 7) in Red, White, or Blue (S2E17)

12. Kevin Rushton - an honorable mention! I didn't think to include Rushton until I saw the IMDb trivia point him out in the bar scene in the Pilot. Rushton does stunts on the show and presumably appears in several episodes, which I think thereby technically meets the brief of playing multiple characters (unless there is a case to be made that Rushton plays a recurring character role? which could be an interesting take). But either way, shout out to all the dS stunt folks!

IMDb specifically credits Rushton for appearances in Diefenbaker's Day Off (S1E2), A Cop, a Mountie and a Baby (S1E9), You Must Remember This (S1E11), and One Good Man(S2E8).

[mariacallous]

Dar Leaf and Richard Mack don’t seem like they would pose a threat to US democracy.

Leaf, a sheriff from Barry County, Michigan, always has at least two pens clipped neatly to his shirt pocket and speaks softly with a Midwestern accent. When we meet at an April event in Las Vegas, Nevada, Leaf is immaculately dressed in a sheriff’s uniform, replete with the polished gold star.

Mack also wears a gold star—even though he’s no longer a sheriff. But in the Ahern Hotel ballroom in Vegas, Mack played the part. In a ten-gallon hat, Mack was genial; shaking hands with guests, joking with vendors, and taking selfies with supporters.

This wasn’t an average get-together. Leaf and Mack were at a conference for the far-right Constitutional Sheriffs and Peace Officers Association, or CSPOA, a group described by the Southern Poverty Law Center as an anti-government organization with links to many other extremist groups. Constitutional sheriffs are actual elected sheriffs who also believe they are the ultimate legal power in their county, and that no federal or state authority can usurp their authority. They also believe that a sheriff’s power stems directly from the constitution, and that they can disregard any laws they deem unconstitutional—a belief that is not grounded in reality.

Leaf is on the board of the group; Mack is the founder. And there are hundreds of members around the country.

In Las Vegas, Mack referred supporters and journalists to Leaf, who was, he said, “doing more than anyone to uncover election interference” in his role as sheriff.

A staunch Trump supporter, Leaf has spent the last four years investigating voter fraud in the 2020 federal election in Barry County—even though Donald Trump won decisively there. He has attempted to seize voting machines, pushed wild conspiracies, and ultimately became the focus of state investigations himself. In at least one case, Leaf appears to have inspired an election official to refuse to verify a vote—an ominous warning ahead of the 2024 US election.

The conspiracies have also taken a physical turn: According to emails shared exclusively with WIRED by the nonprofit group American Oversight, Leaf has run a militia training course advising “potential jurors, homeschoolers, ladies and gentlemen” to “get a standard AR-15 type military grade weapon” and “500 rounds of ammo.” The emails also show that, ahead of the most consequential election in a generation, Leaf is in regular contact with a wide variety of election conspiracists.

Leaf and a number of his colleagues in the Constitutional Sheriff movement say that they have “posses” to patrol polling stations, monitor for “illegal” immigrant voters, and help sheriffs respond to reports of fraud—or anything else—on election day.

Mack, meanwhile, has been the driving force behind the modern day Constitutional Sheriffs movement. In the last six months, Mack’s group has mobilized across the US, building relationships with powerful figures close to Trump, training armed militias, and laying out plans for when Democrats inevitably, in their view, try to steal the election. They’re laying the groundwork to challenge the outcome of next month’s vote—and recruiting sheriffs to help them assert control if Trump loses.

“In a swing state like Michigan or Wisconsin, where the difference in the state's outcome is 50,000 to 70,000 votes, if a sheriff becomes an obstacle, then that could undermine that state's credibility, says Will Pelfrey, a professor of criminal justice and homeland security at Virginia Commonwealth University. “In a swing state, that could undermine the entire national election.”

A WIRED investigation reviewed hundreds of documents and conducted dozens of interviews over the course of the last six months. We found that the Constitutional Sheriff movement believes it is the last line of defense to protect American elections. At conferences in Las Vegas and Florida, as well as online in group chats and Zoom meetings, their discussions often turn to how sheriffs can utilize their unique power in order to, they say, safeguard democracy.

For years, sheriffs like Leaf who believe they have unlimited power to interpret and enforce the laws of the land have operated on the fringes. But as the election approaches, they have been increasingly empowered by those close to Trump and are more committed than ever to ensuring a Republican victory up and down the ballot. At all costs.

Today, one in four sworn law enforcement officers in the US report to a sheriff. In addition to running county jails, sheriffs and their deputies make approximately 20 percent of all arrests in the nation, according to one estimate, translating to around 2 million arrests every year. In nearly one in three US counties, sheriff departments are the largest law enforcement agency, meaning sheriff’s offices are the primary law enforcement agency for 56 million people.

“Sheriffs are really beholden to nobody,” says Pelfrey. “Once elected, a sheriff has tremendous power, and there have been sheriffs who have been convicted and still hold office. It's a bizarre thing. It shouldn't exist, but sheriffs are not beholden to a governor or to a president, and the only way to enforce state or federal laws for a recalcitrant sheriff is the National Guard. And that's not a viable system.”

At the April event in Las Vegas, Mack worked the room incessantly. Together with Leaf, he built links with the leaders of the election denial movement, discussing and preparing for the recruitment of like-minded citizens to patrol polling stations and stop “illegal” immigrants from voting in the election. The event was a veritable who’s who of the right-wing election denial movement, including former Overstock.com CEO Patrick Byrne, pillow salesman Mike Lindell, and the de facto leader of the movement, disgraced former national security adviser Michael Flynn.

On stage, Flynn told the sheriffs they have “a huge role and responsibility in this country” and that only their local-level work will halt voter fraud. During his speech, Byrne said that constitutional sheriffs would need to play a vital role in fighting the influx of “15 million military-age men.” He also claimed that a “well-regulated militia is not a dirty phrase” and urged sheriffs in attendance to build “surge capacity” by partnering with local militias.

“The constitutional sheriffs, or any sheriff in this county, have mega power at the county level,” Lindell told WIRED in Las Vegas. He suggested that sheriffs could arrest voters for illegally voting in the wrong county, adding that they could “put a moratorium” on the voting machines if they suspect fraud is taking place. And he cited Leaf, who spoke at the event, as an example that all sheriffs should follow.

“Our job is basically to make sure that my guys are educated on the election laws, start looking for the violations, trying to get the election clerks to start paying attention if somebody drives in and they've got a whole van full of people that look like they're not from around our area, and they can say no and then make them take it through the courts,” Leaf told WIRED that week, referencing the conspiracy that “illegal immigrants” were being relocated over the border by Democrats to sway the election in favor of Kamala Harris.

To make sure his deputies follow his lead, Leaf said he is working with others to produce a guide on how to properly police elections—something he said he was going to share with all sheriffs across the country in time for the US elections.

“The role of the sheriff has always been to maintain the peace, and he's your chief law enforcement officer and chief conservator of the peace of your county,” Leaf said. “And when you get people cheating on elections, that's disturbing the peace. You violated somebody's peace.”

None of these claims of constitutional power and control are true.

“There is no constitutional basis for their claims to power, zero, it's just not in the constitution,” says representative Jamie Raskin, the congressman from Maryland who spent decades working as a constitutional law professor at American University’s Washington College of Law. “County sheriffs have no more sovereign-state political power than municipal police chiefs or mayors or county commissioners. The whole claim is completely fictional. It's a pure fabrication.”

Still, anyone paying attention is nervous: Leaf has publicly defended members of the Wolverine Watchmen militia who plotted to kidnap Michigan governor Gretchen Whitmer in 2020. “It’s just a charge, and they say a 'plot to kidnap' and you got to remember that,” he told a local news outlet. “Are they trying to kidnap? Because a lot of people are angry with the governor, and they want her arrested. So are they trying to arrest or was it a kidnap attempt? Because you can still in Michigan, if it’s a felony, you can make a felony arrest.” And he has run an eight-week militia training course, called Awaken Our Constitution’s Sleeping Militia Clauses, that he openly advertised on his Facebook page as recently as January.

The contents of the course, according to emails reviewed by WIRED, are based on a 2010 booklet from Brent Allen Winters, a sovereign-citizen believer, titled “Militia of the Several States,” which outlines a belief that armed militias are granted their power not from the constitution but from God, harking back to a time during the American Revolution when men in some areas were fined for not bringing their guns to church. The booklet even cites the Old Testament as justification for organizing an armed militia.

As Winters and Leaf see it, a member of a militia has two duties: “Armed defense of the land from enemies foreign and defense of the law of the land from enemies domestic.”

In one slide, titled “Do Your Duty,” which was shown to attendees of Leaf’s training course, Winters wrote: “Get started. Get a standard AR-15 type military grade weapon. Get 500 rounds of ammo.”

“There should be militias connected with every sheriff,” Leaf told The Guardian in July.

Experts like Devin Burghart, executive director of the Institute for Research & Education on Human Rights and someone who has closely chronicled the Constitutional Sheriffs movement for years, are also tracking how the organization is now interacting with other extremist, “paramilitary” groups.

”The Vegas CSPOA conference was about more than recruiting far-right sheriffs,” Burghart claims. “It was about plotting a road map for coordinated election interference and insurrection 2.0.”

In the weeks after the 2020 election, Trump and his advisers were scrambling to challenge the election results when a relatively unknown former Army Reserve lieutenant colonel named Ivan Raiklin started tweeting. Raiklin told Trump that he should play the “Pence card” and force then vice president Mike Pence to refuse to certify the results of the election.

While Raiklin cited a real provision of the US legal code, his plan had no basis in law. Trump retweeted and endorsed Raiklin’s plan, and while it ultimately went nowhere, the “Pence card” was a precursor to the Trump internal legal team’s coup memo that laid out a plan for Pence to overturn the election result on January 6, 2021.

Four years later, Raiklin is now a superstar in the world of election denial. Ahead of the 2024 election, he has a new scheme to guarantee Trump’s win. It involves the constitutional sheriffs.

Raiklin has compiled a “Deep State target list” of more than 350 names, reviewed by WIRED, that includes elected Democratic and Republican lawmakers, FBI officials, journalists, members of the House January 6 committee, US Capitol police officers, and witnesses from Trump’s two impeachment trials. His plan is to get constitutional sheriffs to round up those people in livestreamed swatting raids so they can be punished for treason. Raiklin, who is closely connected to Flynn’s organization, also wants sheriffs to “deputize” people into armed militias or “posses” to help facilitate the arrests.

“We have hundreds of thousands that want to participate in retribution,” Raiklin said in a June video interview with Cliven Bundy, a Nevada cattle rancher who became a far-right icon after a dispute in 2014 over grazing fees led to an armed standoff with federal authorities. “Some people call it accountability.”

Raiklin met with Mack at the Las Vegas conference and tried to recruit sheriffs to his cause. In June, Raiklin and Mack met again and had “a good discussion,” according to Mack, who would not expand on what exactly the pair discussed. Raiklin refused to speak to WIRED in Vegas and didn’t answer questions sent afterward.

While Trump has not endorsed the Constitutional Sheriffs movement directly, he has spent recent years courting sheriffs around the country. In September 2018, Trump stood in the White House surrounded by almost four dozen sheriffs. Front and center was Thomas Hodgson, then sheriff of Bristol County in Massachusetts.

Hodgson was there to present Trump with a plaque, and praised him for his “strength of purpose” and “commitment to [his] convictions.” The inscription read in part: “There’s a new sheriff in town.” A supporter of the Constitutional Sheriff movement, Hodgson was tapped by Trump in late 2019 to become an honorary chairman of Trump’s Massachusetts reelection effort.

Trump held around a dozen meetings with sheriffs at the White House during his four years in office, more than any other president—and that’s not counting the regular appearances of sheriffs at Trump rallies and campaign stops. Mark Lamb, a constitutional sheriff from Pinal County, Arizona, spoke at Trump rallies in his home state and in Illinois. Trump also emboldened sheriffs by removing Department of Justice oversight that the Obama administration had put in place and restarting a program to allow sheriffs departments to buy military-grade weapons at discounted prices.

“Trump’s tough-guy, xenophobic, and conspiracy-minded persona gave sheriffs a new model in the White House,” writes Jessica Pishko, author of The Highest Law in the Land: How the Unchecked Power of Sheriffs Threatens Democracy. “Under Trump, constitutional sheriffs had a friend and protector at the highest level of government.”

While Mack’s group is at the forefront of the Constitutional Sheriffs movement, there are many other sheriffs across the US who hold similar beliefs about the power of sheriffs. The movement has also found purchase with other prominent right-wing groups. In 2021, the Sheriff’s Fellowship was launched by the Claremont Institute, an influential far-right think tank involved in the drafting of Project 2025, whose stated goal is to see the US revert to a Christian-centric nation based on principles espoused by the founding fathers. The fellowship, which was funded by Trump’s former secretary of education Betsy DeVos, is a five-day training course in “American political thought and institutions” and has featured multiple self-identified constitutional sheriffs, including Leaf.

The closer constitutional sheriffs get to the mainstream GOP, the more cause for alarm.

“The danger of authoritarian attack on the democratic process is at its peak when you get an alliance between extremist vigilante groups like [the Constitutional Sheriffs] with elements of the actual political system, like a political party,” says Representative Raskin. “That's a dangerous combination if Donald Trump is going to be leading the Republican Party into election denialism and a determination to prevail over the rule of law, and you have violent paramilitary groups backing them up.”

Richard Mack’s law enforcement career began with rejection. “My father had just retired from the Bureau a few years earlier and I wanted to follow in his footsteps,” Mack wrote in his 2009 book titled The County Sheriff. “But, this dream never happened as I had some problems with one of the Bureau's entrance tests.” He instead decided to join the Provo (Utah) Police Department in 1979, where he says he immediately became a “by-the-numbers jerk” whose primary goal was writing as many tickets as possible.

In 1982, Mack went undercover on the narcotics beat. “I had to live in the bars, drink, smoke, and act like the biggest partying druggie there ever was (something totally foreign to my conservative Mormon upbringing),” Mack wrote.

The assignment opened Mack’s eyes to what he saw as the injustice of the drug war and how it was targeting US citizens rather than organized crime groups. Disillusioned with the police force, in 1988 Mack moved home to Safford, Arizona, and successfully ran for Graham County sheriff. This was where the Constitutional Sheriff movement began.

Constitutional sheriffs claim their power comes directly from the founding fathers, even though there is no mention of sheriffs in the constitution. Many sheriffs—including Leaf—cite a quote from a Thomas Jefferson letter as their justification for the importance of the position: “The office of Sheriff [is] the most important of all the Executive offices of the county.” The line was indeed written by Jefferson, but the letter focuses on Jefferson's complaints about lifetime appointments of local judges and how they abuse their office, Pishko writes in her book.

The roots of the modern day Constitutional Sheriffs movement originate in the far-right Posse Comitatus group, which was formed in the early 1970s by William Potter Gale, a minister of a militant antisemitic, white-nationalist quasi-religion known as Christian Identity. Gale lionized the idea of the county sheriff as a protector of the ordinary citizen who had the power to call up posses or militias to root out communism, fight the desegregation of schools, and remove—or even execute—federal officials.

Over the years, the ideas popularized by Gale would inspire a variety of far-right groups, individuals, and movements, including Timothy McVeigh, who carried out the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995. Incidents like the sieges at Ruby Ridge and Waco in the early 1990s, the latter of which resulted in dozens of deaths, would be used as further evidence by figures like Mack who already believed the federal government was overstepping.

At the same time, Mack coordinated with the National Rifle Association (NRA) to be a plaintiff in a lawsuit challenging the Brady Bill, signed into law by then president Bill Clinton in 1993. The law mandated federal background checks on firearm purchasers—carried out by sheriffs. For sheriffs like Mack, who almost uniformly view Second Amendment gun rights as sacred, this was too far.

In 1997, the Supreme Court sided with Mack and the NRA, finding that the provisions in the bill that forced sheriffs to perform the background checks were unconstitutional. Mack was no longer a sheriff, but he catapulted to fame on the far-right for standing up to the government. He became a regular on the militia and pro-gun speaking circuits and even did PR work for Gun Owners of America, a more hard-line version of the NRA.

Over the next decade, Mack continued to mix in far-right circles. In the early 2010s, he became a board member of the Oath Keepers, an anti-government militia led by former Army paratrooper Stewart Rhodes, who is currently serving an 18-year sentence for his role in the January 6 Capitol riot. (Mack said he left the Oath Keepers around a decade ago when it became too militant, but CSPOA continued to support the group on its podcasts and newsletters in the years since the attack on the Capitol, helping raise money for Rhodes’ legal fund.)

In 2011, Mack founded the CSPOA to “take America back, Sheriff by Sheriff, County by County, State by State.” In 2014, Mack, together with members of the CSPOA and the Oath Keepers, was part of the now infamous armed standoff between the federal government and the Bundy family in Nevada.

The popularity of the CSPOA has waxed and waned over the course of its 13-year-old history, but the Covid-19 pandemic and protests following the murder of George Floyd in 2020 brought sheriffs back to the fold.

Mack reportedly encouraged sheriffs to ignore restrictions by federal and state officials meant to curb the spread of Covid; he also helped facilitate the spread of anti-vaccine disinformation as a board member of the conspiracy group America’s Frontline Doctors, a role for which he was, at one time, paid $20,000 a month. Mack, who to this day still refers to himself as “Sheriff Mack,” has not been a sheriff for almost 30 years. He unsuccessfully ran for other sheriff positions, and even governor of Utah and US senator in Arizona.

In interviews, Mack comes across as reasonable, repeatedly pointing out that the CSPOA is a nonviolent movement. But in the private members-only webinars he broadcasts weekly to his subscribers, he portrays a much darker side. In an August webinar, he said that his group was “obsessed” with monitoring next month’s vote and the “probability” that the election will be stolen as a result of the millions of illegal aliens being shipped into the country. In another webinar earlier this summer, Mack pushed an even darker conspiracy, that Democrats will allow Trump to win to instigate a civil war:

“The only way I see Trump winning is if they decide they want Trump to be in, that those who cheated last time are actually going to make sure he gets in,” Mack said. “Why do they want Trump in? Because they want the civil war to begin, and the violence that will be happening across this country will be horrendous.”

In September, Leaf appeared in Orlando, Florida, to discuss what extremism experts say is a “far-right blueprint for the next insurrection.” He was speaking at a conference organized by the Florida Foundation for Freedom, a group run by the CSPOA. Leaf was there to show other sheriffs how to take action.

The conference’s speaker list included a variety of election conspiracists with links to Trump—including far-right figure Mark Finchem, who is currently running for a seat in Arizona’s statehouse—and Christian nationalists, including Bill Cook, the founder of America’s Black Robe Regiment. Also speaking at the conference was Mary Flynn O’Neill, a director at America’s Future, the nonprofit run by her brother, Michael Flynn.

The event was organized by Bill Mitchell, the head of CSPOA’s Florida chapter, to promote a blueprint he created for constitutional sheriffs in other states to connect with like-minded election officials. The details of the plan were outlined in a seven-page document published on the foundation’s website, on CSPOA-headed paper.

“Take back the states, one constitutional sheriff at a time,” Mitchell said during a summer presentation about the plan.

When WIRED spoke to Mitchell, he denied that his plan was focused on disrupting the election. But the document clearly calls for citizen-led, local posses aligned with the CSPOA to recruit like-minded sheriffs, county commissioners, and supervisors of elections. Should those officials refuse to take action as directed, the plan states, allied sheriffs or posse-led grand juries will relieve them of their duties.

“Instead of a January 6–style centralized mass insurrection, these Florida activists developed a blueprint for a county-by-county-style revolt,” says Burghart, who analyzed the plan on IREHR’s website.

It’s not just Florida. In Las Vegas, Bob Songer, the sheriff in Klickitat County in Washington state, shared a 32-page guide with other sheriffs on how to recruit a posse, revealing that his own has 150 members. Leaf outlined how, when his Michigan election fraud investigation was going nowhere, he created his own “election investigation posse” consisting of two cybersecurity experts and a “clerk” to gather evidence.

Mack has also espoused his view that every sheriff should have his own posse. In a recent members-only webinar, viewed by WIRED, Mack and Sam Bushman, CEO of the CSPOA, wondered about the possibility of veterans temporarily moving to Leaf’s county in Michigan and being deputized to help his investigations into election fraud.

Mack’s views on the power of posses is deep-seated: “People get all upset when they hear about militias, but what’s wrong with it?” Mack reportedly said in the wake of the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing at the NRA's national membership meeting, in which Mack was honored as the organization's law enforcement Officer of the Year. “I wouldn’t hesitate for a minute to call out my posse against the federal government if it gets out of hand.”

“There's no federal constitutional prohibition against a posse,” says Will Pelfrey, a professor of criminal justice and homeland security at Virginia Commonwealth University. “It's kind of terrifying, because you're empowering a lot of fringe people to do something that they probably shouldn't be doing.”

It’s not exactly clear how many constitutional sheriffs currently exist. Back in 2014, the group claimed it had 485 sheriffs signed up. In 2017, Mack told High Country News the group had 4,500 fee-paying members. By 2021, that number had risen to 10,000, Mack told VICE News, adding that his group had “trained 400 sheriffs.” Two years later, Mack told AZCIR that his groups had trained 1,000 sheriffs.

When WIRED asked Mack how many sheriffs were currently members of the CSPOA, he said 300 sheriffs could be described as “really solid.” He would not divulge how many paying members the group has.

While Mack and the CSPOA are the most prominent part of the Constitutional Sheriff movement, there are many other sheriffs who espouse the same beliefs. A 2022 survey conducted by the Marshall Project found that close to 50 percent of the sheriffs polled agreed with the constitutional sheriff mantra that “their own authority, within their counties, supersedes that of the state or federal government.”

Many sheriffs have also shied away from publicly aligning themselves with Mack, something the former sheriff readily admits. And yet Trumpworld, the election denial movement, and some of the most prominent far-right influencers are now seeking to team up with the sheriffs to influence the outcome of the US election.

In September, election denial group True the Vote told its followers that it was working with sheriffs to monitor drop boxes. While Mack told WIRED he hasn’t spoken to True the Vote about this specific plan, he has confirmed that the CSPOA is still actively working with True the Vote, though he declined to say in what capacity. Bushman also wouldn’t give details of their collaboration, but said: “It's more than just supporting what they're doing.”

In multiple conversations with Mack over the last six months, he repeatedly asserted that the CSPOA advocates only for nonviolent action in efforts to combat the alleged (and unproven) widespread voter fraud that is now the group’s driving force.

But Mack also maintains deep ties to Stewart Rhodes and the Oath Keepers and is publicly meeting with figures like Raiklin, who in August also posted an ominous threat on X referencing the recent assassination attempt against Trump: “In a duel, each side gets one shot. They missed 36 days ago. Now it's [our] turn.”

Earlier this month, the FBI and Department of Homeland Security warned that “election-related grievances” could motivate domestic extremists to engage in violence around the election.

In a recent phone conversation, Mack’s tone sounded more deflated than antagonistic; he admitted that he was “frustrated” that more sheriffs were not taking a more active role in policing elections, a practice that has led to voters feeling intimidated in the past.

“President Biden and his administration have just caused so much extra work for the sheriffs, it's really hard to get them to focus on elections,” says Mack. Every sheriff in this country should verify the security and integrity of the voting in their county. Every single one.”

Dar Leaf, for one, remains focused. As he prepares to police an election while continuing to investigate the last one, he is clear-eyed about where the threat is coming from: immigrants and Democrats. He claims that America has received “other countries’ garbage,” and as a result, he needs to act.

“Any police officer who thinks that machine is bad or something criminal is going on,” Leaf says, “we have a duty to seize it.”

[cookeybg]

The Colony Possessed - Chapter 3

Title: The Colony Possessed

Main Characters: Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne

Narrators: Hal Jordan, Barry Allen, OC - Kam, will add others as chapters progress

Honorable Mentions: Wally West, Talia Al Ghul, Damian Al Ghul

No romantic relationships

Stuff to Know: Cryptid Batfamily, maybe a bit spooky, Hopefully a bit amusing, Gotham LOVES Batman and she always will, it's concerning

[The Colony Possessed Table of Contents]

Chapter 3 - Only the strong keep their name

Kam held their head up high, feet padded silently through the stone hallway, proudly holding the tray of food that the young Mistress, Talia Al Ghul, had painstakingly picked to be prepared for their guest. They had been assigned this responsibility from the moment the boy emerged from the sacred pools, she had considered it to be such an important responsibility that she had even named the nameless. Tossed it in passing, but Kam held on to it reverently for only the truly important had names, the rest were mere shadows, beings for sacrifice, to be used when needed for the greater good. They could hear the soft shuffling of feet, the sounds of light breathing from those that were still in training, trying to catch Kam unaware. They hid in nooks and crannies, in the wooden rafters up above behind slightly ajar doors, if they succeeded in shaming Kam maybe they could take their name, take their place. Only the strong could keep their name. Kam felt the hair rise on the back of their neck, as something whistled towards them, gleaming in the dim light, they gracefully twirled and redirected the throwing star back to its owner. A grunt and the thump of a body behind them is all they heard not bothering to turn around. If the young one survived they would be punished for causing noise, for failing the rules. Kam reached the wooden door to their responsibility, took a deep breath and opened it. The child sat curled in the corner of the room one green eye glaring at them it's shine bright, ominous. The child rarely spoke, but Kam had seen him kill, had seen him claw and rip flesh like a wild animal. His ragged appearance was at odds with the lavish room, the high curved windows had an intricate metal mesh that allowed cool air in during the day and wooden shutters to keep the warmth inside. It had been the biggest room Kam had ever seen, the biggest bed. The boy had every luxury that Kam had once wished for, that is…before it had been trained out of them. They knew their place, knew what they had to do, this body was a weapon, a vessel for the Al Ghul's and they trusted in them to steer them in the right direction.

Kam cautiously locked the door behind them, making sure to never show their back to their esteemed guest. They placed the tray on the low table and kneeled in front of it, waiting. Kam was patient, staying in the same position for hours was never a problem, but they couldn’t help looking in the child's direction, observe the young one’s movements, his demeanor. It was a violation of the rules, punishable by death, the boy didn’t seem to mind, more likely was unaware of Kam’s misconduct. The child uncurled himself from his huddled position with the grace of a leopard, he bared his teeth at Kam. They had to admit that the child unnerved them, not only had he been given the gift of rebirth from the sacred pools he must have brought something back with him. He had a darkness to him, the shadows welcomed the boy, lived in him. Those bright green pools were currently trained on Kam as the boy paced like the caged animal that he was, slowly inching closer. Kam stayed still, unmoving proving that they were not a threat, baring the nape of their neck in obeisance. The boy stood at the edge of table, teeth bared a low growl escaped from somewhere deep with him. The boy’s whole body flickered. The way he sometimes did, the whites of his eyes black, the neon green broken by black cracks, the sacred eyes dimming and then, then he would change into something else, someone else, Kam could never tell who. His eyes returning to the normal white, the usual green. A cold bead of sweat dripped down Kam's back. “What’s your name?” The boy asked, curious, sweetly. “Kam,” They responded, the boy sometimes asked for their name, he never remembered it. The boy nodded, sat cross legged at the table opposite of Kam and stared down at his food suspiciously. He tapped his fingers on the table in contemplation. “Do you have anything to read around here? It's really boring.” Kam stared at the boy's flickering eyes, a bit surprised that the boy could even feel boredom when he was rarely conscious. They eventually shook their head at the boy as a response. The boy sighed and started to eat, he immediately coughed it up, vomiting the remains of his dinner on the table. When the boy looked up at Kam green veins were clearly visible on his face, bright green eyes stood out on blackened white. The boy was a demon and Kam shook in exhilaration, they had never seen the boy like this, he looked like the art depicted on the prayer room's walls. “Poison!” He rasped. “Yes,” Kam said breathless, “the same as what our young master eats. Only the best for you.” The tray hit Kam in the face, as it fell they saw the boy convulsing on the floor. Kam cleaned up the mess, placed the child on the bed so that he could mend and they left to bring another tray.

In the following days Kam brought the boy books they snatch from town and the boy warmed up gratefully towards them, asked them a favor and who was Kam to deny the boy anything? They ran and Kam died on the Mistress’s blade. It sliced sharp, neatly, they saw the world roll and boy kneel at the Mistress’s feet. No, not the boy, he had said his name was Jason. Before the deep sleep took them, they heard Talia name another Kam. Only the strong could keep their name and Kam knew, fleetingly, that Jason would keep his.

This one is a bit longer than the others, I had to cut out a lot of what I originally wrote, but I like it :)

992 words

[todaysdocument]

Deposition of Edward Wilding

Record Group 21: Records of District Courts of the United StatesSeries: Admiralty Case FilesFile Unit: In the Matter of the Petition of the Oceanic Steam Navigation Company, Limited, for Limitation of its Liability as owner of the steamship TITANIC

United States District Court Southern District of New York In the Matter of the Petition of the Oceanic Steam Navigation Company, for Limitation of its Liability, as Owner of Steamship TITANIC. DEPOSITION OF EDWARD WILDING May 13 and 14, 1915. (Original)

UNITED STATES DISTRICT COURT Southern District of New York In the Matter of the Petition of the Oceanic Steam Navigation Company, for Limitation of its Liability, as owner of the steamship TITANIC. DEPOSITION OF EDWARD WILDING, a witness for the petitioner, examined in open court by permission of his Honor, Judge Mayer, pursuant to notice under Section 863 of the Revised Statutes of the United States, in New York City, on the 13th and 14th days of May, 1915. Appearances: Messrs Burlingham Montgomery & Beecher (Mr. Burlingham and Mr. Wells) for petitioner; Messrs Hunt Hill & Betts (Mr. Betts and Mr. Kinnicutt), Messrs Barry Wainwright Thacher & Symmers (Mr. Symmers), Messrs Everett Clarke & Benedict (Mr. Everett), Messrs Spencer Ordway & Weirum (Mr. Smythe), Messrs Harrington Bigham & Englar (Mr. Houston), Roger Foster Esq., A Gordon Murray Esq., A Leonard Brougham Esq., and Theodore M Taft Esq., for various claimants.

A Gordon Murray Esq.: I desire to state that I wish it understood that I am to conduct my own case, and that I do not wish to be bound by anything except by my own questions. There are a great many cases being tried here in one large case, and I want to keep my own case, my own position and my own objectives separate and distinct from the other claims. THE COURT: it will be assumed that nobody adopts anybody else's line, unless he so states. [full document and transcription at link]

[vintage-tech]

If you're of a certain age, you remember the ads for the compilation albums by Ronco and K-Tel -- "20 original hits by the original stars" was always the tagline -- but there were other companies out there putting out mixtapes on vinyl, like Sessions, and then there is this two-record collections by a company called I & M Teleproducts which has 23 releases listed in Discogs.com -- several of which are Lawrence Welk, but many of which are contemporary collections.

Dreamin' is from 1979 and I approve of the tracklist. While Ronco was putting Wild Cherry's "Play That Funky Music" and Barry Manilow on the same record, or K-Tel was mining the latter half of the Top 100 with Forgotten Charting Singles By Major Artists, I & M was attempting to stay a bit more on-topic and contained mostly music that neither of the bigger names had tapped but you knew. And being a two-record set, you felt like you got twice as much tunage when actually you didn't (21 songs) but there was a better chance of higher quality sound due to the uncompressed groove on the vinyl. It's up to personal opinion whether the line "21 original hits by 18 original artists" sounds impressive, especially since the songs by those repeated artists have been pretty much forgotten.

Here's the track list and you do know many of them:

A1 Samantha Sang– Emotion A2 Dan Hill– Sometimes When We Touch A3 Gladys Knight & The Pips– Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me A4 David Soul– Don't Give Up On Us A5 Paul Anka– The Times Of Your Life B1 Kenny Nolan– I Like Dreamin' B2 Gladys Knight & The Pips– The Way We Were B3 Atlanta Rhythm Section– So Into You B4 Mary MacGregor– Torn Between Two Lovers B5 Jessi Colter– I'm Not Lisa C1 Peter McCann– Do You Wanna Make Love C2 Eric Carmen– All By Myself C3 Jennifer Warnes– Right Time Of The Night C4 LeBlanc & Carr– Falling C5 England Dan & John Ford Coley– Nights Are Forever Without You C6 Daryl Hall & John Oates– She's Gone D1 Roberta Flack– The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face D2 Paul Anka– There's Nothing Stronger Than Our Love D3 Dorothy Moore– Misty Blue D4 The Spinners– They Just Can't Stop It (The Games People Play) D5 Gladys Knight & The Pips– So Sad The Song

Trivia: The Bee Gees wrote "Emotion" though didn't record it themselves for many years. David Soul was Hutch on the TV show Starsky & Hutch. Many of us can't help but think of Kodak film ads in regard to "The Times Of Your Life". Peter McCann technically makes two appearances on this list because he also wrote "Right Time Of The Night". "The Way We Were" is a Barbra Streisand cover from a 1973 movie by the same name, and the spoken introduction to the Gladys Knight song is "Try To Remember" from the long-running 1960 Broadway musical The Fantasticks.

[anistarrose]

what is “in the fumes of your anguish (all my blistering pride)”!! it sounds fun!! -tom

(WIP meme here, still taking asks!)

okay I have to come clean: I cheated and put this one on the list even though I don't have a file for it, physically. or rather, digitally, I guess. but I needed an excuse to talk about it, because my mental file is sprawling, and, well. above all else I am a Suffering Game bitch, and this is an AU that diverges from canon in the aftermath of Lucretia in Wonderland.

she still escapes Wonderland — only to find herself alone in the Felicity Wilds, remaining grievously injured from the games. twenty years older, still losing blood — and the monsters in the wilds can smell blood, immediately encircling her. but before she can make her final stand... bolts of red, necrotic magic rain down on her foes, and Barry appears, reducing them all to dust.

he's both the person Lucretia most wanted to see, and the person she was most terrified of seeing, with the guilt of betraying Cam still fresh in her mind. he sounds just as terrified, as he asks what the hell happened to her. Lucretia doesn't answer, because her legs give out, and she passes out.

the rest of the fic is Lucretia recovering in Barry's evil cave lair, in the way that would be the classic whumpy injury hurt/comfort if it wasn't for the fact that. well. they're still Lucretia and Barry post-betrayal. they can barely face each other. Barry sees Lucretia twenty years older with a half dozen new scars, and can only think about how his Animus Bell did that, even if indirectly. Lucretia sees Barry's lich form, tattered and gaunt, aching from the separation from his lifelines — and wonders why he saved her life.

hell, she wonders why doesn't he kill her now? with her gone, it would only be a matter of time until he found Fisher — and the Starblaster, for that matter, whether he chose to use it or not. in her mind, if he were to use it, it would surely just be to bring back Lup — not bring back her, not knowing she could betray him again, uncompromising on her plan as she is...

and Barry is just as deeply, upsettingly aware as she is of what he has to gain by killing her. what he had to gain by letting her die. but on a level that doesn't surprise him, not compared to how it surprises Lucretia — he obviously can't bring himself to do it. to hold his lich form together, after doing that? after losing his sister, too? the only person to even remember him, no matter the reason? it would be impossible. his soul would be gone before he even finished the job.

...and then there's character development — and eventually, dare I say, even communication — that happens, that I don't want to spoil for when I do write the thing, but. I think you get the vibe. (also: lots of black smoke imagery persists even after Lucretia's out of Wonderland. that's the second most important part of the vibe.) the premise is a heavy one, and not my only Suffering Game WIP either (the other is canon compliant, but I kind of think this one could build off it), so it's gonna be a long time before I'll be able to write it, but I think about it all the time 😭

(also the title is from this song, which also contains the lyric "All the love, all the kindness, all your best-laid plains / Couldn't stop me from becoming the way that I am." and if that's not a devastating line for the mutual Lucretia-Barry dynamic post betrayal, then I don't what is!)

[the-al-chemist]

Not Alone At Last

A/N: I know, I’ve gone a little off the rails from the original prompt @drinkyoursoupbitch gave me.

However, the idea it sparked was too much fun to not run with it. So, here we are again. Also, I’ve missed Rowan. Haven’t we all?

Warnings: potentially triggering for mothers of toddlers prone to tantrums…

The Khanna family tended to keep themselves to themselves. It wasn’t often that they ventured far from their farm, let alone as far as London. Every time that they did, Rowan Khanna was struck by how different the city felt from the countryside. She was used to peace and quiet, to rolling green fields, acres of trees, to birdsong echoing in the otherwise silent air.

Diagon Alley was not quiet or peaceful at all. It was always busy and bustling, filled with noise and colour and people. Today, it was busier than Rowan had ever seen it; it was not just bustling, it was heaving. To think, she had been looking forward to coming and buying all her school supplies. Now, several hours into shopping, she couldn’t wait to go home, back to her solitary comfort zone.

It seemed like she wasn’t the only one. Her two younger siblings had also grown tired of the whole experience. Baby Ela had been grizzling for the past hour, and little Ashok was well past the point of being bribed with the prospect of an ice cream from Florian Fortescue’s. When they both started to cry simultaneously in Potage’s Cauldron Shop, even Rowan’s mother looked like she might join in with their collective chorus of tears.

“How much do we have left to do?” she asked Rowan, balancing Ela on her hip and bouncing her gently in one arm, whilst running the fingers of her other hand through Ashok’s hair. Neither of them was soothed by these gestures.

Rowan pulled out the list of school supplies. “There isn’t much more we need. Just my uniform and the books.” She tried not to look disappointed as she realised that they would have to rush their visit to the bookshop, the thing she had most been looking forward to. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

“No, you’re right. Right.”

Mrs Khanna nodded decisively, and put baby Ela back into her pram. Ela immediately redoubled her efforts at screaming, and Ashok, apparently encouraged by his younger sister, threw himself down onto the ground and started to thrash with all four of his limbs. Rowan’s mother closed her eyes and sighed loudly, deeply.

More than ever, Rowan wished that she was in her bedroom with Fuzzclaw the cat and her books. She could hardly bear to look at her mother and two siblings, and yet, she felt as if everyone else in the shop was looking at them. She took a moment to glance over her shoulder at the other customers, hoping that none of them were too annoyed by the scene her family was making.

Her eye was caught by a girl waiting in the queue to buy a school-regulation pewter cauldron. The girl must have been around the same age as Rowan, to have been buying school equipment, but she looked younger. She was tiny, far shorter than Rowan, and skinny, too, but she did not look at all intimidated by the size of the crowd around her. She was wearing Muggle trousers that were too big for her and a t-shirt that was too small for her, and she fidgeted incessantly as she waited for her turn to approach the shopkeeper. With her scrawny frame, her tangled hair, and her wide eyes, she had a wild, rangey sort of look that reminded Rowan of one of J.M. Barrie’s Lost Boys, or Rudyard Kipling’s Mowgli.

But, it wasn’t the girl’s scruffy appearance or her similarity to any beloved book character that had drawn Rowan’s attention. The reason she had noticed this particular girl in the crowd was due to one thing, and one thing only: the girl was alone.

Rowan was used to being alone, she spent most of her time alone, and yet she had never considered that she might be able to go to Diagon Alley without anyone else. But, if the girl in the queue could do it, why couldn’t she?

“Maybe you should take Ashok and Ela home, Mum,” she said. “I can get the rest and Floo back after.”

Her mother blinked. “And leave you here all by yourself?” She did not look convinced.

“I’ll be going to school all by myself in a few weeks,” Rowan reasoned. “I’m sure that I’ll be able to manage getting some uniform and going into a bookshop without any help.”

“It’s not help you need in a bookshop, sweetpea, it’s supervision. Especially with my Galleons.”

Even Rowan had to admit that her mother had a point. She felt her cheeks grow slightly warm at the truth in her words. Mrs Khanna still looked dubious, but more of the other customers were now looking at the still-screaming Ashok and Ela, and that was probably why she agreed to Rowan’s idea. With Rowan’s shopping bags loaded on the back of Ela’s pram, and the rest of the shopping money safely hidden in Rowan’s pocket, Mrs Khanna left with her two youngest children.

And, just like that, Rowan was alone.

Rowan had always enjoyed her own company. She had spent most of her childhood as an only child, living in the countryside with only her parents and her cat. She had never had any real friends of her own, only the characters from her books. And she hadn’t minded that one bit.

Still, it was different to be alone and friendless in one’s own room than it was to be alone and friendless in the real world. It was for that reason that Rowan went to Flourish and Blotts before anywhere else. Nothing that bad could result from spending time surrounded by books.

Flourish and Blotts was the biggest bookshop that Rowan had ever seen, far bigger than the largest bookshop in Bales-On-Wye. There were several levels, with balconies overlooking the main shop floor and bookshelves that extended all the way up into the rafters. It would have been heavenly, were it not for the crowds. Unfortunately, the sheer number of people filling the space with their bodies and their noise made it more stressful than any bookshop should have been.

But, of course, Rowan was alone. That meant that she could do whatever she wanted. So, she slipped into a corner of the bookshop that was empty, tucked away behind a stack of acid green books bearing the title: Cursed By Name, Cursed By Nature. Hidden amongst the shelves, she sat down on the floor, reached into her pocket and took out her own book, the one she had been reading for the past few days, and was already over halfway through.

She didn’t know how long she had been reading for, but by the time she was nearly at the end of her chapter, she became aware that she was no longer alone. Someone else had joined her in her not-so-secret hiding place. Rowan recognised the newcomer almost immediately; it was the fidgety, feral-looking girl who had been standing in the queue at the cauldron shop. However, the girl no longer looked so indomitably independent as she had when Rowan had spotted her earlier.

The girl was flicking through one of the lurid green books, her lips silently mouthing words as she read, and her eyebrows furrowing deeper with each page. After a few minutes, she slammed the book closed with such force that dust billowed into the air above it, and screwed her eyes closed as if she were in pain.

Rowan eyed her cautiously. She had always been shy - or she had presumed herself to be shy, as she had never had much opportunity to tell if she was shy or not - but the girl was clearly distressed. And, she was alone. If Rowan didn’t offer her some help, who would?

“Are you okay?” Rowan asked. Her voice came out quieter than she had thought it would, but the girl must have heard her, because she opened her eyes. She looked surprised at the sight of Rowan looking at her, as if she wouldn’t have thought anyone would notice her being there.

“I’m…” The girl paused. “I think I am. Yeah.”

She may have thought that she was okay, but she did not look okay. She was still frowning, and her hands trembled slightly. Rowan tilted her head to one side.

“It’s so busy and noisy, isn’t it? I had to come and get some quiet, too. Are you here by yourself?”

Rowan knew that the girl was there by herself, but she hadn’t answered any of her other questions, and she didn’t know what else to ask. At least this got a response. The girl nodded, so quickly it was almost like she was twitching.

“Yeah, my mum hates crowds. I thought I’d be fine buying everything by myself, but…”

The girl’s voice tailed off, and she looked down at her feet, the toes of which could be seen wriggling against the ends of her trainers. Even with her eyes cast downwards, Rowan could see the colours in them. They were hazel, with mingled shades of olive and brown, like the bark and moss of the trees at home, and a distinct ring of green around the pupil, like a cat. Rowan had always felt at ease in her family’s orchards, and she had always adored cats. She couldn’t help but like this girl, as unforthcoming as she was. She couldn’t help but feel that this girl might just be the friend she had never had, the friend that she hadn’t even known that she wanted until this very moment.

“I’ve just finished this chapter,” Rowan told the girl. “I could help you pick out your books, if you like. And I’ve still got my robes to buy, if you wanted to do that together, too? I’m guessing your a first year like me.”

It was nerve-wracking, trying to get someone to be your friend. Rowan wasn’t sure she was doing it right. But then, the girl smiled. She had a nice smile, friendly and somehow full of mischief.

“I am. And I would,” she said. “Thanks.”

Rowan smiled back at her, before realising that she hadn’t even told the girl her name yet.

“I’m Rowan, by the way. Rowan Khanna.”

“I’m Artemis. Artemis Hexley.”

Should Rowan shake her hand? Probably not. She rose to her feet, and Artemis rose to meet her. They stood facing one another, each matching the other’s postures as if they were in a mirror, as if they were friends already.

And, just like that, Rowan was no longer alone.