#He had me repeat one of the ‘teens several times…

[eddis-not-eeddis]

I…I may have inadvertently cussed out my Korean instructor when we were going over sino Korean numbers the other day…

[toast-on-dandelioms]

🕷️Just Another Neglected Story 🕷️

[previous] - Part 4.2 - [next]

I will add here the rest of the tag list, sorry for having to divide it into two

Clark immediately grabbed the door and punched it right in the middle of it, making a hole to which he used to grab the door off its hinges and throw it away, not caring about anything but Spider's wellbeing. 

He was the first one to enter the room, looking around to see if Joker was still there so he could kill the bastard who dared to hurt his child. 

Bruce was the second to enter and immediately walked around to find the vigilante, stopping to stare in silence at the cold body of Joker stuck on the wall. 

He checked for a pulse, not too worried about the clown but needed to see if he was worth saving, letting out a small sigh when he felt no pulse. 

He sighed once again, mostly out of anger since he wanted to be the one to kill the man who dared to hurt his child (Spider), before starting to worry that if Spider knew that they killed a man, he didn't know how they would react to the news. 

He quickly looked away and went back to search for the teen, now even more worried about their wellbeing, especially when Clark told him that he could hear their heartbeat but it was incredibly slow, which meant that he couldn't find them immediately.

As he looked around the room, he kept on getting angrier as he saw drops of blood from fighting and some weapons and bullets that Joker probably used on Spider since they were all covered in blood. 

As he searched around he heard Superman call for him and quickly ran up to him, finding a gravely injured Spider with their mask ripped off and full of bruises on their face and body. 

Their body was also covered in bruises and wounds made from Joker, their ragged breath accentuating the severity of their injuries. 

He gently called them using their vigilante name since no one knew their real name, sighing in relief when Spider opened their eyes to look at him and hissed at him, not recognising him or Clark because of their injuries and how scared they were. 

They calmed down after Clark gently called out to them and got in their line of vision then started talking with a broken voice as their eyes filled with tears, the words having to be repeated because of how much Spider sobbed and gasped from the pain of their injuries. 

"h-he kept laughing and hitting me after a weird gas poured in the room, I d-didn't want to hurt him but I punched him out of desperation, h-he's been so silent and I-I don't know if he's even alive, I'm so sorry". 

He set a hand on their head after taking off the rest of their mask to help them see better and just told them, with a soft voice that even Clark was a bit taken aback, "you did good kid, I'm sorry you had to fight alone" as he knew what Joker was capable of and was glad Spider survived and was able to fight back. 

He instructed Superman to pick them up and fly back to the Manor, using his own cape to cover Spider's body to protect them from the harsh winds while Clark was flying, letting Conner follow him so he could call Tim and get Alfred to prepare the medbay. 

He then turned to Jason and Stephanie with an unnerving calm face and a smile that the two took a step back in fear of what he was planning since Batman was never calm, especially if someone he cares about gets hurt. And he was smiling, which meant it was bad news and to not try to stop him. 

He quickly walked towards the three heroes in front of him and put a hand on both Stephanie and Jason's shoulder and said in a weirdly cheerful voice "who wants to help Batman burn down the place and all the people who dared to hurt Spider?". 

Not that Bruce was asking for their help, he just wanted it to be done faster so he could go home to Spider. In a normal case he would make it slow for whoever tried to hurt his child but this time he couldn't stop to enjoy the pain of the leader that was still in the room. 

He gave both of his kids a set of bombs to put all around the bunker, telling them to not care about anyone and just place the bombs around while he took care of the leader. 

He grabbed the makeshift throne from the pedestal it was put on and dragged it in the center of the room, not even caring about the noise the chair was making. 

He then grabbed the passed out cultist and threw him on the throne, using some handcuffs to hold him there so he wouldn't escape if things got bloody. 

Not that he wouldn't mind if things got bloody, he needed to relieve some stress after what happened to Spider and fortunately for him, that cultist was there and he needed to ask some questions.

He stared at the still passed out cultist and grabbed some smelling salts from his utility belt before snapping them under the cultist nose, a smirk appearing on his face when the cultist woke up and was scared when he saw him. 

He wanted him to be scared, god just seeing how scared he was while trying to free himself from the cuffs on both arms and legs was incredibly satisfying, especially to what he wanted to do to him. 

He roughly grabbed the cultist’s face to make him look directly at him, wanting all of his attention to ask his questions and slowly leaned down to look him right in the eyes. 

���Now I am gonna ask you a few questions, if you tell me the truth I will let you walk out of this room alive but if you lie..”

He didn't finish the sentence and let the fear and the realization of what he meant wash over the cultist face, enjoying every second of it and he wanted him to be scared. 

He let go of his face after a bit, a small smirk on his face when he saw the imprints of his fingers by how hard he squeezed his face. 

“Why was Joker here? That clown never worked with cultists before” 

He stayed silent as he watched the man hang his head low, starting to get even more angry when he didn't immediately answer. 

He took a small step back in shock when he suddenly heard a laugh, very similar to the laugh Joker always had whenever he fought that clown. 

His face was in shock when the cultist raised his head and showed the same maniac smile the clown always had, making him think that the ghost of Joker possessed the man, especially since the man just kept on laughing. 

“Batman, the world's greatest detective, can't figure out something so simple! The trap wasn't for you, or even one of your many sidekicks!”

The man kept on laughing before suddenly stopping, his smile still on his face as he stared at Batman right in the eyes. 

“It was for your little metahuman that started to clean the streets, everything here was for that annoying vigilante and leaving a message for you” 

He laughed again when he saw the shock in Batman’s face, not even minding the handcuffs on both arms and legs as he moved them while laughing like a maniac. 

“Everyone noticed your obsession for them, how all of your sidekicks kept on following them and getting rejected or thrown off a roof. You're not so secretive Batman and we just used them to send you a message” 

Bruce just stared at the cultist laughing before grabbing a gun that Jason gave him and just shot the cultist in the face, using all the bullets inside the magazine. (The thing that holds bullets inside the gun if you don't know)

He stopped when the gun didn't shoot anymore and walked out the room, his eyes filled with fury at the thought that other rogues and villains in Gotham wanted to hurt Spider.

As he walked around the bunker to get to the exit, he killed anyone who tried to attack him or was in his way, not even caring about his no-kill rule or how the blood kept splattering on his suit. 

He finally got out of the bunker, noticing both Jason and Stephanie near Conner’s ship and just gave them a nod before getting in his own jet, waiting until the bunker exploded before taking off. 

He put the coordinates to the batcave and flew as fast as his jet could, wanting to get to the Batcave as fast as he could, his mind going over so many scenarios of Spider dying because of him whenever Alfred or anyone else in the cave didn't answer his calls that he was starting to get a panic attack at the thought of Spider dying because he was too late to save them. 

When he finally arrived at the cave he basically jumped out the jet as it was landing and ran to the medbay, taking off his mask in the meantime as he didn't need it and having it on was like a reminder of the hatred that Spider has for that symbol. 

As he ran, he ignored both of the Kryptonians still in the cave, not caring about their presence as he was more focused on making sure Spider was ok. 

He arrived just in time because he saw Alfred walk out the medbay while taking off the surgical gloves and robes covered in blood and was throwing them away in a nearby bin. 

He quickly walked up to the old man and started to ask a barrage of questions, ranging to what's the situation with Spider to how were they holding up and if they were alive and didn't have anything that would make them unable to move or do certain tasks. 

He stopped talking when Alfred raised a hand to signal silence and listened as he explained:

"Their condition is stable - for now. Their wounds were.. severe to put it bluntly, Master Bruce. They sustained a multitude of near-fatal injuries from Joker. Fixing 2 broken bones in both arms, a fractured rib and stitching  3 stab wounds that, luckily, didn't pierce any of their organs is no small feat, consider it a miracle they are even alive."

He paused for a brief moment, almost as if to re-evaluate in his head.

"If my assessment is correct, they should be up and running in 5 days thanks to their increased healing rate, 8, maybe 9 if they were to refuse any medication." 

Bruce nodded and turned to Dick and Duke who were near the room where Spider was resting at the moment.

He started to talk with Duke and Dick about the situation, sighing in relief when both Clark and Conner left because Tim managed to convince them that if they stayed it wouldn't really help since Spider was still unconscious and they could come visit after Spider wakes up. 

When both Jason and Stephanie arrived he started to explain, to who didn't know, the situation with Spider before getting interrupted by Dick yelling out. 

“I call dibs to share my room with them!” 

His chest heaved in a quick rhythm as he finished his sentence, the words still just teetering on the tip of his tongue from how rushed his speech was, a big smirk on his face as everyone else glared at him. 

Bruce sighed when he saw his kids were ready to fight to share a room with Spider, even though he also wanted to share his own room to make sure Spider was ok if they stayed next to him the whole time they were recovering. 

Unfortunately he needed to be the voice of reason at the moment and said.

“Spider won’t be sharing a room with anyone, they’re weak right now and waking up with one of us in a new place will overwhelm them too much. They’ll get their own room.”

He smiled when everyone grumbled but nodded, glad that no one was gonna contest him on this decision. 

But the moment of happiness didn't last long since after not even 2 minutes Damian raised his hand and yelled out. 

“I wish to call dibs to be the first one to meet Spider when they wake in a room in the mansion” 

After Damian yelled that out, everyone started to fight to be the second person to be with Spider when they wake up and to also choose which room Spider was gonna be the next to. 

Alfred stayed silent for a bit as he listened intently, forced to hear his son discuss about Spider staying in the Manor when they already live there.

He tried to stay calm as he listened, keep his composure and remain civil. But hearing both Bruce and the others call Spider by their vigilante name and not their real name, even after seeing their face, made his blood boil - he knew that he couldn't wait anymore. 

The things Spider had been subjected to and the injuries they suffered as a result, and how the Bats had reacted upon seeing their face- not understanding they were their sibling and child made him so unfathomably frustrated and enraged at the people he'd raised and cared for. Bruce was still discussing with Damian allowing Spider to sleep in the room next to his so he could show them all of his animals as Alfred silently walked over to him.

He decided to stop waiting for his kids to finally realize that Spider was, in fact, [Y/N]. 

His attempts thus far had proved unsuccessful, even after all the small things he put around the house for them to notice. He knew they were a lost cause if they didn't get the hint after all he did so he just walked up to Bruce who was busy trying to convince Damian to not let Titus or anyone else of his pets inside Spider’s room. 

He waited patiently for Bruce to stop talking, since it is impolite to interrupt someone while they're talking, and called out his name. 

"Master Bruce." 

Which got him a simple hand wave, signaling that he was busy. The dismissive action made him annoyed that he wouldn't listen, but he tried once more.

"Mast-”

But he was interrupted by Bruce's sharp hand wave and a scoff yet again, the man obviously frustrated by Damian and Jason, since the two were now arguing about who Spider was going to be placed next to in terms of rooms. 

He was fed up of being ignored and interrupted by everyone around him, raising his hands before clapping them together with an angry look on his face that garnered the attention of the entire room, the normally alive and bubbling room screeching to a halt in a wonderful blend of terror and surprise since Alfred was almost never mad. His glare danced around the room, shooting at each individual face before settling on Bruce's similarly surprised expression. 

Then he began his exasperated speech in an eerily calm voice.

"Honestly, Master Bruce, I can't believe I raised you to be like this. I gave you all enough many chances to make it right, let you take your time figuring it out, but it seems like you cannot even put enough thought into noticing the blatant hints and information I have given you, I could have written it in bold red ink on my forehead and you would still turn a blind eye. I am so far beyond disappointed in all of you that there is no word in the English dialect that could possibly encapsulate just how much you have let me down."

He raised a hand to stop Dick and Damian from talking and trying to defend themselves, or shifting the blame onto someone else in the group. 

"I have been patient and understanding with all of you and your behavior towards [Y/N], but after what happened today with Joker, I cannot sit idly by and continue to allow myself to pretend as if your disgraceful behavior is acceptable. You have run my tolerance and composure thin, so much so I cannot even fathom being quite so lenient anymore."

He stopped once again to level his glare at Bruce before shifting it briefly to Damian, knowing what the kid did to [Y/N] when they first arrived at the Manor.

"Spider's secret identity is [Y/N] Lawrence, also known as [Y/N] Wayne to me, and who is your child Master Bruce. Your child got bit by a mutated spider while working in a science lab, of which they had informed me, but your blatant ignorance is not even the worst part." 

As he walked up to Bruce and put a finger on his chest, his footsteps seemed so loud and deafening that some of the individuals in the room had to refrain from covering their ears. Alfred prodded Bruce's chest accusingly as if he was trying to physically reach his heart, despite his doubts that the man could even feel it. 

"The worst part is that you all ignored that poor child who lost their mother and came to us seeking help. They needed a family and stability after their supposed 'loved ones' shut the door in their face, and yet they couldn't even find that here. Your child could have lost their life today, they could have been taken to hospital only for us to be told they are unable to be saved, you could have been called to the morgue to confirm the body is theirs. And yet I don't think you would have been able to name their corpse."

He paused for a brief second to regain his composure ever so slightly, turning his attention to the others in the room.

"They learned gymnastics for you, Master Dick. Just so that you two could have something in common to talk about.  However, you always ditched them for Master Tim or Master Damian whenever they begged you to do something with them."

He glanced at Jason and the others who were standing there, wanting to make sure his kids knew how bad they messed up. He also ignored how destroyed Dick and Bruce looked when they realized and remembered what they said and did to [Y/N].

"They spent days in the library reading your favorite books Master Jason and even learned about guns and the maintenance for one whenever you visited to be close to you. They were the one who left candies out for you and always made a new pot of coffee for you whenever you drank it all master Tim.”

He then glared at Damian, knowing what the young boy did to the poor vigilante, now resting in the med bay. 

"After losing their mother, they were ecstatic about the idea of having a younger brother but you, Master Damian, thought they wanted to steal your place as Robin when they didn't even know your identity. But did you even stop to consider how horrifically you were treating a child that you were supposed to be protecting?"

Alfred paused his talking to lean down and look Damian in the eyes, making sure the boy's gaze wouldn't drift away. 

"No you didn't. You instead abused that child and made them so frightened and anxious about living near you that I had to move them to the other side of the Manor and serve them food in their room so they wouldn't starve to death. Despite your treatment of them, you didn't seem to care about the consequences of your actions, did you Master Damian?" 

He leaned back and stared at everyone, an exhausted yet somewhat pleased little smile appearing on his face when he saw the horrified moment-of-realization expressions on display as the weight of their treatment of [Y/N] came crashing down on their shoulders.

His gaze turned to Stephanie, Duke and Cassandra who were in the back of the group. Stephanie's voice was hoarse and trembling as her uneven sobbing filled the air, the realization as to why Spider always ignored and looked so annoyed when seeing her hitting her like a freight train. 

He stayed silent as he watched everyone realize what they’ve done before Duke, who was a bit busy trying to calm down Stephanie who was still crying, asked out loud. 

“Wait, then where is Spi- I mean, [Y/N]’s room?” 

To which Alfred sighed but led everyone, except Stephanie and Cassandra, who stayed behind to help Stephanie calm down and also make sure Spider would be ok in the medbay. 

As they all walked they noticed the way the corridor that led to [Y/N]’s room was very dark, like all the lightbulbs were taken off every chandelier to hide something. 

When they finally arrived the first thing that was noticed was the door almost completely covered in stickers and little kids drawing, along with an empty plate on a small table next to the door. 

Alfred stopped in front of the door before looking at everyone behind him, annoyed at their obvious hesitation at entering [Y/N]’s room but eventually grabbed the doorknob and twisted it, finally opening the room. 

The room is small.

As soon as they set foot inside, only two of them because not all of them fit, the feeling given by the room is almost claustrophobic. 

Being small by nature, the bed and objects make the room even more restricted, almost unbreathable. The mess does not fail to compensate for the effect; it is full of sheets of paper, fabric,  and metal constructions everywhere.

It is very admirable that [Y/N] managed to make gold out of every corner of the room, making it livable despite their spider "work". All the constructions and planning have even come to be hung from the ceiling.

Duke stayed a little to the side, but still took into account all the details of the room; like all the posters that cover the room. An almost spontaneous smile appeared on his face as soon as he realized that they are all about him as Signal, the thought of [Y/N] being a fan of his work made him happy and also proud of himself.

As everyone looked around, Dick raised his arm to grab the only sheet of paper that was hanging only on one side, being held by a web that basically crumbled when Dick tugged the paper off of it. But no matter how much he tries to decipher what is written, he really doesn't understand anything even though he knows many languages, dead and still used thanks to Bruce’s training.

Each paper everyone grabbed had a different topic written on it before being thrown around the room and attached to the wall or ceiling via webs. Some of those papers had methods to make the costume more comfortable to move, others tested various ways to make using the web shooters in a way that they could still work if they were underwater or electrocuted, while others depicted different versions of the costume, to make it easier for a child to see it and not scare them if they ever had to see it.

One of the main things that the two men that managed to be inside the room noticed is that they basically didn't know exactly what they're looking at. It's definitely one of the few times they set foot in [Y/N's] room, and the realization that they've neglected them so badly into allowing them to pull off a whole "hero" act without ever being aware of it hits them in the face like a violent slap.

As they looked around they all saw various photos in addition to the posters and papers pinned to the wall; in these photos there are various experiences where [Y/N] was depicted, but nothing is familiar to all of them, increasing their guilt. There were photos of them at a science fair, two or three at various dance recitals, but they noticed that the arrangement of the photos seemed purposely placed; every photo where [Y/N] was depicted, their smile seemed to become duller, forced as they grew older. Their eyes began to lose more and more of that spark of joy, becoming emptier, sadder.

Dick ran his eyes over all the trophies on the shelves, the badges from every competition he never attended. He doesn't remember them; hell, he never even saw them bring any  or badge home. For all the times [Y/N] has attended something, he has never been there. He should have thought twice before excluding them so much from his life. But there's no point in crying over spilled milk. 

Above all the badges and trophies there are only two photos; certainly spacing each other by 2-3 years. In the first photo, when [Y/N] was younger, they seemed genuinely happy to hold the trophy, smiling as if they wanted to dare the sun to shine like they did. But the second photo was completely different, it's almost agony for Dick to look at that fake smile imprinted on their face, like all their excitement and joy were sucked out of them but they still needed to smile. 

When Dick finally walked out the room to make way for Jason, his face was full of regret and guilt but the man ignored him to walk inside [Y/N]’s room. 

He ignored the papers all around the room and stayed a few seconds to look at the photos before looking at the small bookshelf he noticed in the corner. 

He slowly picked up one of the books sitting on the shelf and looked at the title, a bit surprised that it was Pride and Prejudice since every time he ever talks about it to someone, they never say that they liked it and just had to read it for school. 

But he saw that the book was incredibly used and full of small sticky notes all inside it. Whenever he opened a page following a sticky note sticking out the book he always found one of the passages filled with sticky notes or notes written on the page with a pencil, making him smile at the thought of [Y/N] loving the book so much that they wrote what they thought on the pages. 

As he flipped through the pages of all the books, he kept on noticing that on his favorite paragraphs there were small notes, like small instructions on how to add those paragraphs in a conversation with him, his heart breaking at the thought of [Y/N] working so hard to just incorporate something he liked so he could like them. 

He could feel the excitement in all the notes by the way they wrote them, like you couldn't wait to see him and talk to him about it. But he knew that you two never talked much, hell he can't even remember one single conversation he had with [Y/N], making him feel even worse than before. 

As Jason kept on reading all the books in the small bookshelf, Tim got to work on their laptop that he managed to find after searching all around the room. 

As he opened the case that had [Y/N]’s laptop inside, he could see some old stickers that depicted him during his time as Red Robin, along with some cute cat stickers that covered almost the entirety of the laptop's outside. The sight made him smile, endeared by the thought of [Y/N] still liking him enough that they actually had some of his stickers on their laptop. 

After opening it up, he powered it on and copied the password off of the little scribble next to the keypad. Going through the stuff inside the laptop, he noticed a folder full of photos of all of the bats, in either an embarrassing situation or funny moments when they were inside a dumpster after [Y/N] threw them inside of one. The thought made him laugh, especially whenever he found small notes written on that photo like what their crime was as to why they ended up in a dumpster. Though Duke, Cassandra and Bruce were missing from all the photos, as if they never existed to begin with.

As he kept going through [Y/N]’s laptop, he turned to place the heavy item onto the table since it was starting to get hot from being powered on. As he pushed some items out the way to make room, he accidentally pushed the laptop case off the desk, watching as a small usb  bounced out and fell onto the floor,  sparking Tim's curiosity. What could possibly be inside of that usb?

He grabbed it and plugged it in, initially waiting patiently for it to load. His irritation grew as he watched the loading animation loop over and over and over again, almost teasingly. He made a mental note to buy [Y/N] a better laptop. Perhaps even a whole pc setup so they could play together. 

When the laptop finally gave him access to the contents of the usb, he found a multitude of videos that dated back years before [Y/N] arrived at the Manor. 

He quickly went back to the newer video in the usb and clicked on it, curious as to what these videos had captured.

Tim curiously clicked the play button on the small screen, watching as it started playing. The scene displayed that of a small child, no older than five or six, who he quickly recognised as [Y/N]. They seemed to be in a living room of sorts, though he was just assuming that based on the blurry sofa and coffee table in the background. 

He stared in surprise at the screen as they put the phone on something, probably a shelf or table, to keep it still. Tim laughed a little whenever it kept sliding over, the child's tiny yet menacing voice threatening to throw the phone as they stomped closer to it to prop it back up. This happened several times before they got the right angle. When they finally managed to get the phone to cooperate, he watched as they took a few excited steps backwards, tripping once or twice, before they smiled brightly at the camera.

"So! I just got my first role in a BIG dance recital!! I'm gonna be the uh- uhm I think it's the swan in, uh.. Swan Lake? I think that was what it's called, but anyways I don't care! I'll be a pretty swan!" 

The child twirled around in sheer joy, showing off the sparkly white ballerina outfit, the pretty pearls shimmering in the little sunlight that poured in through a nearby window and the delicate lace shifting with the movement of the dress. The excited spinning halted as [Y/N] jumped a bit upon hearing a voice called their name. As he listened to the gentle lull of the voice, Tim realized it belonged to a woman, though it was unfamiliar to him. 

He laughed when the small child ran to grab the phone, noticing that they didn't stop the recording. Instead, they just ran to the kitchen where he could see a woman standing over the counter cutting some vegetables with her back to the camera, dressed in some simple pajamas that were decorated with stars. She was shorter than average, with long brown hair that lay on her shoulder.

The young dancing prodigy shakily pointed the phone towards the woman, before asking loudly, "So, Miss Mom, are you excited about [Y/N]'s first dance recital?" Their enthusiasm radiated from their voice, bleeding into their movement as the camera just barely captured the woman's face turning and laughing softly at the young child's determined expression. Now that he had a good look at her face, Tim presumed this woman was [Y/N]'s mother based on their similar facial features. 

"So serious! Though, this isn't your first dance recital my little star, you have done many before now." She exclaimed, her shoulders shaking as she smiled brightly at her child.

"Mooooom! This is my first REAL dance recital because I have a big role now!"

As the woman playfully shook her head with a stifled chuckle, smiling down at them, she turned her head to her right, encouraging [Y/N] to follow her line of sight.

"Boris! Tell her!!"

The camera panned over to a much bigger man hunched over a cooking pot, and as he turned his head to look at the woman with a knowing smile, Tim noticed a deep gash along his cheek. No, not a gash, a scar perhaps? This baffled Tim since he knew of the existence of [Y/N]'s mother, but had no recollection of a father in their life. 

"You guyssss, I'm a freaking swan! Do you know how cool swans are?!" 

Tim chuckled softly when he heard little [Y/N] say their version of a bad word, watching with a fond smile as the woman gasped dramatically with a shocked expression while the man turned his head away as if trying to hide his laughter. 

"Little star! Where did you hear such a bad word?”

To this, little [Y/N] paused for a good few seconds before their tiny hand appeared in the frame and gestured to the man, throwing him under the bus in order to avoid punishment. 

"Boris said it earlier when the TV wouldn't work."

Tim watched with a curious smile as  the woman turned her hardened glare to the man, who gave her a nervous look. "Look it was an accident Amelie, I didn't realize [Y/N] was in the room-" The man had a slight accent, possibly Russian.

Before he could finish his sentence, the video got cut off, leaving Tim in a thoughtful silence. So [Y/N]'s mother was called Amelie? How interesting. Still, who exactly was that man?

He quickly went to the web browser on the laptop and searched for [Y/N]’s mother, which wasn't hard since the first thing that popped up were articles of her death and photos of the incident. 

As he searched more articles about her, he noticed a few things: [Y/N] was never mentioned in any of the articles that talked about Amelie during her modeling career or about her having any types of relationships.

While he searched, he did find a few photos of Amelie with Boris, easily recognisable thanks to face scars, but as he could see by the many photos taken by paparazzi and fans, Boris was always by the side looking like a bodyguard. 

Another quick research, about the man this time, and he found out that Boris was with Amelie when she was driving and died on his way to the hospital. 

Tim quickly finished searching and turned off the laptop before grabbing it along the usb to watch more videos about [Y/N], especially since he saw a small folder full of other videos that mostly depicted [Y/N] as a teen, so he wanted to see them in his room and make copies of all the videos to show the others.  

When Tim finally walked out the room along with Duke, Damian finally walked inside the small room, grimacing at the sight of the mess that [Y/N] lives in.

He promptly ignored Jason, who was still reading the books and had tears in his eyes, to focus on more important things, like searching through [Y/N]’s desk drawers and in the closet. 

In the desk drawers he didn't find much, just a few folders containing useless information and school books that Damian ignored, angry that he couldn't find anything in the folders. 

But when he searched the closet, grimacing at the poor quality of the clothes [Y/N] dared to wear that he even made a mental note to buy decent clothing for them when they woke up, he saw a few boxes at the back. 

When he opened the first one he saw a small box full of vials, all labeled with ‘web fluid’, while next to the small box were a few web shooters, at least that's what the label on all of them said. 

He grabbed them all and noticed a folder at the bottom of the box, which contained informations on how to create the web shooters thanks to the grappling hook parts and what to improve in the next model, so Damian assumed those web shooters in the box were old version that [Y/N] didn't use anymore. 

He was impressed at how neat the information in the folder was, all in order and even highlighted when something was important or not, plus small notes added with pencil or post its. 

When he finished reading the information, he put everything back in the box and set it aside to grab another box that was in the back of the closet, finding almost three, maybe four, albums of photos. 

He slowly grabbed one, making sure to not damage anything in the album as he slowly looked through the pages, admiring the photos of a small [Y/N] along with their mother or an unknown man. 

The other two albums contained photos of a woman, he assumed it was [Y/N]’s mother during modeling gigs and from clippings taken on magazines, alongside photos of her with a man, again the same man he kept seeing with [Y/N]. 

He closed the album in frustration and put it back in the box before grabbing the last box in the closet, wanting to see what this had so he could either use it to bond with [Y/N] or to understand why they hate him. 

He understood that [Y/N] hated him, especially after Alfred pointed it out and made everyone see who Spider really was, but he also didn't understand why they hated him the most. 

Yes, he did hurt them pretty badly that they had to find a safe place in this small room but he didn't understand the hate. He did the same with Drake but he didn't hate him. 

As he opened the last box, which he immediately noted was full of dust which meant that [Y/N] didn't really open it much and just kept in the back of the closet to collect dust, he only saw a notebook. 

He slowly picked it up, patting it down a few times to get rid of the dust before opening it to the first page, which read ‘Diary of [Y/N]’. 

He closed it and debated if he should really open it or not before finally opening it, needing to know why they hated him and maybe the diary contained some information about it. 

He started to read the first entries before skipping pages until he came to an entry where his name was mentioned. 

20-03-XXXX 

Dear Diary

Hi, sorry for not writing to you for a few months but many things happened that you wouldn't believe! Well you don't really believe in anything, you’re an object. 

I moved out of my old house and went to live with my father, and yes I know it's weird since mom never mentioned him but I had to move in with him. 

You might be wondering why, well mom and Boris died. The policeman who took me to my father explained everything, they both died in a car crash, he even let me grab everything I needed. I managed to grab all the albums I made with mom and Boris and mom’s favorite jewelry but not much. 

I think auntie is gonna grab her clothes and other objects, I hope she won't sell them. 

Well no more sadness! My father is Bruce Wayne! The billionaire man who made so many things possible in Gotham! 

I am unsure if he knew that I existed, he looked so surprised when the policeman, I think his name was Gordon, explained what happened to mom and why I should stay with him. 

But I got a big ass room! It's even bigger than my old one! Oh I have to ask Alfred, my father's butler and yes, he really has a butler, if I can buy some night stars to put on the ceiling and some new clothes. 

I also have a younger brother! His name is Damian Wayne-Al Ghul! His surname sounds so cool compared to Lawrence! 

Plus he’s arabic! Alfred told me he was raised in a ‘traditional manner’ but I don't know what that means, maybe that means that he’s a prince? 

Oh my god, I have a prince as a brother! That would be so cool! I hope I can be friends with him and the others! I am so excited! 

I do miss mom and Boris but I can't stay sad forever, the consultant in school said so. Plus I adore everyone! They're so cool and fashionable! I want to be like Dick or Tim when I grow up! 

Oh yea I also have some many older brothers! Their names are: Richard but he prefers Dick, I don't understand why, Jason, Tim who is very cool like a Duke by how classy he is and Duke! 

I also have two older sisters, Stephanie and Cadsandra, even though they're not ‘really’ part of the family like Alfred said but I consider them my sisters! They look so cool and Cassandra is so cool, like an assassin or a ninja! 

Damian slowly closed the notebook, using a finger to not lose the page and just thought about what he just read. 

He knew [Y/N] came to the Manor when they were 12, maybe 11, so the entry was maybe a few months after their mom died in an accident with a man, possibly the man he kept seeing in the photos, named Boris. 

But what he read shocked him. They considered him cool and just wanted a friend. They didn't even know about the family's business and just thought everything was cool. 

He quickly shook his head and reopened the notebook to read more, needing to know more about what they thought of him and when it changed. 

15-04-XXXX 

Dear Diary 

You know Damian, the younger brother I told you about almost 5 months ago? About how he's so cool and everything and how I want to be friends with him? 

Well he's not so cool anymore, he keeps hurting me and calling me names, saying things like “you won't replace me, I will be the ultimate Robin”. 

I think I spent more time with Alfred stitching up cuts made by him than everyone else in this Manor. I hate Damian so much!  

Why would I even want to be Robin?! I don't even know who Robin is now since they keep changing hair colors! Why would I be a Robin?! Batman is too scary! 

I just wanted a younger brother, is that so bad to ask for? I understand that I came into their life without much notice but it's not my fault I came here! 

It's that drunk driver's fault! He’s the one who killed my mom and Boris! I don't even want to be here! I would prefer to be with my mom, watching her get ready to do a photoshoot while Boris tells me stories about his time in the secret agencies he was in. 

I hate this Manor, I hate Dick and his excuses for not hanging out with me, Bruce for telling me that I am just someone he’s forced to take care of and not his child and especially Damian! 

I miss mom, I want to hug her one more time and dance with her. 

Why did she go to the supermarket? She could've gone another day! It's all my fault, I should've never let her go with Boris, if I did she would still be here with me. 

Damian stopped reading after that because the writing was almost illegible and in a few parts the ink was smeared because of small droplets of water, most likely tears. 

He felt horrible, even more now that he read about himself in [Y/N]’s eyes and how quickly their feelings for him changed. 

Even now, as he read past passages about himself, he could see how much they adored him even after he hurt them and it felt like knives were being stabbed on his body. 

As he read, he started to feel something wet trailing down his face and when he went to touch his cheek, he didn't saw blood on his fingers like he thought 

He quickly got up and put the diary on the bed before running out of the room, too distraught to stay there as the words written by [Y/N] about him kept circling around his head, taunting him and telling him that it was all his fault. 

He’s the reason why [Y/N] hates everyone in the Manor, he’s the reason why they refused to be a part of the Batfam when they were Spider. He caused this. He made them move into a closet just because he was scared of losing the Robin mantle. 

He ruined everything because of his selfish behavior towards a stupid mantle that you didn't even know belonged to him, and he knew it. 

He collapsed in front of the medbay after finally getting back in the batcave, a bit glad when he saw that Stephanie and Cassandra weren't there to see him crying, and sobbed in front of the room, knowing that he didn't deserve to even enter the room after what he had done to [Y/N]. 

When Bruce saw Damian run out he tried to follow him but stopped, knowing the boy probably needed to be alone and would refuse his attention if he tried to help. 

He nodded when Jason walked out the room and stood in front of the door, wanting to enter but still felt like he didn't deserve to even enter one of the only safe spaces that [Y/N] had in the Manor. 

Bruce kept staring at the room, his thoughts running wild when he saw how small the room was compared to his or even Tim’s room. 

“Alfred, what was this room before [Y/N] moved in it?”

The tiny space looked more fit for a young child, with walls that seemed to curve inwards the longer you stood in there, of which you could only stand if you were under 6ft. 

Posters, pictures and multiple sheets of paper decorated any free space on the aged walls, the rest of the area covered by a wardrobe and a shelf that used to hold a few books that Jason took to his room. 

A large bed sat pressed against the corner of the room, creating a small area of safety with the various pillows and blankets piled up on top of the thin mattress. Clothing was scattered all across the room, alongside all the documents and papers that were scattered around the room, though mostly on and underneath the bed, having likely been kicked under there by [Y/N] after they tripped on it.

The whole room emanated with coziness yet was so small that anyone would feel claustrophobic even just looking in the room. 

And yet [Y/N] had called this room their home, settling in each night to the tiny bed after kicking their clothing somewhere random in the room and slowly slipping into the realm of sleep as they smiled fondly at the figures on their shelf.

"This used to be a storage room."

Alfred interrupted, capturing Bruce's attention and pulling him out of his trance-like state. "We used to put random items like cleaning products and laundry supplies in here, I remember there used to be a cabinet for the detergent over there." He said gently, smiling a little as he gestured to where the small bed now sat. "[Y/N] was delighted when they found this room, practically begging me to stay in here. They told me it seemed cozy, though I will admit I did find it a little odd they wanted such a small room." He told him, chuckling a little towards the end of his sentence. 

"The way their little face lit up in excitement once we got the bed in here, watching them run around the room playing with their figures and hanging up posters. The room was small, sure, but it was more than enough for them.”

Bruce stayed silent after Alfred said that and looked around the room before noticing a small book next to the bed. 

He slowly picked it up and sat on the bed, opening it to the first page and immediately reading ‘Diary of [Y/N]’ on it. He closed it and wondered if he should read it, mentally debating on whether or not he was allowed. 

He decided on reading it when he remembered that he didn't know anything, absolutely nothing about his kid and what happened to them and how they were before they got bit by a spider.  

Bruce knew it was wrong, it was another invasion of [Y/N]’s privacy but he didn't care. He wanted, no he needed to know about them. 

20-05-XXXX (you can change the date with your birthday) 

Dear Diary, this is my first entry in this book that is now called Diary. 

Mom says that I have to practice writing and that I also can use it to express feelings or tell stories that I don't want to tell anyone in this book, so I shall be doing that. 

As of today, my birthday, I am now 7 years old and I have celebrated another birthday with no father, just my mom and Boris. 

If you are wondering, even though you can't since you are an object, I do not know who my father is and Boris is not my dad. 

He told me that when I once called him dad, which made me sad since why do I have to hold this title for a person that has never showed up in my life when Boris is always there for me when I am either sad or feel like I can't do anything? 

This is not fair. I will mom who my dad is and pretend to know why he doesn't want me. I don't even know why he doesn't want me! And I’m 7! 

Well, I’ll tell you when I come back! 

Ok so, mom told me that my father is someone that can't be traced so he’s either a ghost or dead. Which is the same thing. 

Well I don't care, I’ll just tell Boris that he's my dad, even if he doesn't marry mom since she refuses to have other relationships and because Boris told me that he's attracted to other men and not women. 

I don't envy him, boys suck. Especially my ghost dad! He abandoned mom! 

As Bruce finished reading the first passage, he realized that their mother, Amelie, didn't try to paint him as someone evil just because he wasn't there. 

He was also amazed at how serious the first entry was, it was almost a work document but he didn't think too much about it. 

He felt horrible because he remembered all the time he talked bad about Amelie and how she couldn't just do one thing and keep [Y/N] away, not even caring if [Y/N] was in the room or around. 

He knew Amelie, she was one of the models who never tried to flirt with him and spent most of her time talking with her bodyguard, acting like he didn't exist. 

He also remembered that, after that night with her, she never called him until a week or two later to inform him that she was pregnant and how she just wanted child support if he didn't want to be in the child’s life. 

He was incredibly surprised when she called him and even more surprised when she sent him a very well made child support agreement where she just wanted a decent amount of money every month and she will never bother him, she’ll just add him to the birth certificate if something happened to her. 

He quickly shook his head to get rid of the thoughts about Amelie and skipped a few entries in the Diary before stopping at one where his name was mentioned in the first line. 

31-09-XXXX

Bruce Wayne is my father. 

I now know who my father is.. and yet I don't feel anything. 

At first I wondered- why am I not happy? My father is a billionaire and a very famous man in Gotham, shouldn't I be excited and happy to have such a new lavish lifestyle with a loving, caring father?

Then I thought about it and came to a conclusion..

I don't like Bruce Wayne.

My mother and Boris died in a car crash. They were gone and I believed I had just become an orphaned child with no parents or guardians to care for me. 

And then the police told me I had a father - Bruce Wayne. That man looked at me like I was some grotesque animal when the nice policeman told him about what happened and who I was.

I don't like Bruce. 

He looks scary and totally different from what I saw on the TV whenever he was in a program with one of his many children. 

He keeps saying things under his breath, like how my mom had one job and failed at it or how annoying I was because he didn't want me here since I was the reminder of my mom. 

I want to hit him.

It's not her fault. 

How dare he say things about mom! She wasn't perfect, I know that, but nobody is! Just because she didn't know how to cook meat and always had Boris cook anything that was fish or meat doesn't make his hatred for her okay! She was horrible at making drawings with me but she tried to, she put in effort to sit with me and draw anyway!

Why does he hate her so much?! 

Why does he hate me?! 

I don't even want to be here! 

I want my mom back! 

I want Boris back! 

I miss my house, I miss my room! 

I hate this.

I hate everything.

I hate him. 

I hate Bruce Wayne.

Bruce stopped reading after that and just stared at the opened closet, trying to wrap his head around what he read. 

He couldn't believe he did that. No he could believe that he said something like that, he was going through a rough patch with both kids, business and his vigilante job that when [Y/N] suddenly entered his life he didn't do anything to help them adjust or comfort them. 

He also remembered how Amelie was a nice woman when he woke up in her bed, that explained what happened thoroughly for him, how they were both drunk and thankfully Boris took them to her house, and even gave him her business card after she took his so she could contact him if she was ended up pregnant because she knew she wasn't on a safe day and he didn't use a condom. 

He actually admired how gentle she was and how, when she contacted him about her being pregnant and how she wondered if he wanted to be in his child’s life, accepted his refusal and the offer of child support, not even caring about how much money he was gonna give her every month. 

So he felt even more horrible and a downright scumbag when he realized that he insulted one of the many women he respected in front of her child and how he never apologized or tried to make amends. 

Not even the realization about his actions would excuse them, especially because he said those words to a child, a traumatized child who just lost everything and had to be thrown into a house where no one wanted them. 

He slowly flipped through the pages, stopping when he found one of the last entries, which were dated almost 2, maybe 3 years ago. 

08-07-XXXX

Dear Diary 

As stated before, I moved into Wayne Manor and now I am a Wayne. I refuse to take his surname though, I will never give up my mother's last name. 

This will probably be one of my last entries since I will switch to video diaries, mostly to just watch myself and actually explain while talking. 

I have been in this hell that I have to call house for almost 3 years and I hate it. I know that I say it many times but it's true. 

I hate Dick and how he acts like he's the golden child, so righteous and kind to Tim and Damian but when I ask to do anything with him, he just tells me that he's busy. 

Even though I know that those are excuses so he wouldn't have to hang out with me. 

I hate Jason and how he complains that Bruce doesn't love him, but I know that he does. That man loves Jason even if he kills people as Red Hood but doesn't do anything about it. 

I hate Tim. I don't know much about him but I hate him so much because he's so perfect, already a CEO and so good at everything that even if I manage to do something good, I will always be compared to him by Bruce. 

I hate Stephanie, Cassandra and Duke. They never hang out with me, telling me that they're busy when I see them play around together or with others. 

What did I even do to them?! 

I hate Damian and how he feels superior just because he's an Al Ghul and Robin. I hate it. He has everything, Bruce’s and everyone else's love and attention and yet, he still tormented me and scarred me just because I existed. 

I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT BRUCE WAS BATMAN WHEN I FIRST CAME TO THE MANOR.

I hate Bruce Wayne. I hate his perfect TV smile and persona, I hate how he acts like he loves all of his children and yet he has never spent any time with me ever since I came to his Manor years ago. 

I hate how he told Dick about how annoying my voice was after I visited to ask him to sign something for school. How he described my voice as nails on a chalkboard for his ears and how he wished he never had to hear it again. 

But if he wants to, then I shall never talk again. Maybe this will make him happy. 

Bruce slowly looked up when he finished reading that entry, the diary slowly slipping out of his hands and falling onto the floor with a soft thud. 

He couldn't believe that he said something so horrible about a kid, someone he should be protecting, and made them, made his own child, hate their own voice. 

He slowly put his hands on his head and just cried silently, the realization that he was the reason as to why [Y/N] hated the Manor and their own blood, because he was a horrible father to a traumatized child that just wanted a family after losing their own so early.

The manor was quiet, eerily so. Usually it was bursting with life, sound practically reverberated off the walls. But today it was almost silent. Amidst this silence, a child finally wakes up from their slumber in a room in the Manor. 

You slowly opened your eyes, hissing when the blinding lights coming from the window immediately hit your face like a rocket, making you try to move your arm to cover your face. 

You slowly looked down to your arm when you noticed the difficulty at moving it and found it in a cast that almost enveloped all your right arm. 

You looked at the other arm and sighed in relief when you saw that it was just bandaged up and not in a cast. 

You did notice that you had an IV in your hand, making you sit up despite the pain you felt all over your body and managed to pull it out with the casted arm. 

After you pulled out the IV, you noticed that you were in a far bigger room compared to the small one you had before. You looked at the shelves and noticed that your worn out books were replaced with new ones while the photos and posters were in the same places but with more space. 

As you looked around, you could see that the furniture was the same, confirmed by the scratches on the closet, which was the closest to you, that you accidentally did while trying the first prototype of the web shooter in the room which resulted in you throwing the flaming machinery at the closet before destroying it as you tried to put out the fire before Alfred noticed. 

You laughed a little at the memory of your panicking before almost doubling over in a fit of cough, your throat burning when you finally calmed down. 

You slowly moved the blankets off of you after you calmed down enough to think rationally, understanding that you weren't in your room anymore but still in the Manor thanks to the walls and the colors in the room, which were totally different from the ones you had in your own room. 

You ignored how both of your legs were bandaged up and slowly got off the bed, using the IV stand to keep yourself standing as you wobbled to the desk, noticing almost all the papers you had around your room were now in neat piles, making you extremely angry since you immediately knew that Bruce and his kids entered your room, probably because of Alfred interference. 

You pulled away from the desk, still holding onto the IV stand and coughed a little, noticing that the shirt you were wearing was starting to get blood on it. 

You slowly raised the shirt and noticed that the bandages on your chest and sides were full of blood, but you ignored it and went for the door, needing to get out of here since you knew that if you were in a different room it meant that they all knew you were Spider. 

When you finally made it to the door, your vision was already starting to get blurry from all the blood you were losing. You finally opened it but fainted before you even managed to take a step out, the last thing you saw was the silhouette of a man running up to you, his face blurry and his voice muffled. 

Tag List

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[nightingale-prompts]

Sparing Batboy

First | Previous | Next

"You need to sleep." Bruce put his hand on Dick's shoulder.

Dick ran a hand through his disheveled hair. His eyes were dark from lack of rest.

It had been two days. Two days without a sign of Danny. Not even a glimpse on a street camera or his phone or clothes going missing. He's just gone. Evaporating into thin air.

"I need to find him," Dick said resolutely.

Bruce shook his head and opened his mouth to protest.

"Don't say anything," Dick said through clenched teeth. "You don't get to say anything about what I'm doing. You have done the same thing."

"Dick this is not the time to-"

"I said shut up! If you want to be helpful then go back to looking for him. Otherwise, leave." Dick said before jumping to another rooftop.

Dick knew at the end of the day he knew very little about Danny. He never asked because he knew it clearly hurt him to talk about it. All he needed to know was that Danny needed him. From the moment he first saw that watery smile on that kids face on his face when he invited Danny to eat with him.

Bruce definitely knew by this point that Danny and Batboy were the same. Especially when he asked where his grandson was while they searched. He hadn't said anything else about it. Dick didn't care at this point. I wouldn't change anything.

Part of Dick hated it. He has spent so many years comparing himself to Bruce. Trying not to become him yet still stuck in his shadow. To not repeat his mistakes.

Dick had made his fair share of mistakes and had paid for each one. He had lost so many people either from his own actions or not acting at all.

But what can he do now?

He just wanted to find his son.

He just didn't want to hear what came next. Commissioner Gordon called in with a clue…no it was a message.

A pair of wings splayed to mimic the iconic bat signal on a rooftop. The bloodied wings were severed at the base of the bone.

There were very few villains in Gotham that would do something so violent, fewer that would show off their act so brazenly. This kind of of senseless violence just to anger Batman was the mark of none other than Joker.

Joker had gotten his hands on another member of Dick's family. Flashbacks of Jason and Tim filled his mind.

And something just snapped.

In another part of the city, a certain clown glared at the limp body of the teen.

He had hoped the kid would at least wake up after having his wings cut off but despite his body state he slept soundly. He even had goons try to beat the kid awake but while the blood stayed any injuries disappeared instantly. Metas were a pain in the ass.

In the realm of dreams, Danny was comforted in the arms of the Nocturne. He got to visit his sister and friends in their dreams.

Jazz squeezed the life out of him as she asked him every question she could. Danny tried his best to answer each of them.

"Relax Jazz, I'm fine. I just can't come back. You know how it is. A grand destiny and all that." Danny said.

"But you're still just a kid Danny. You have school and-and-" Jazz said frantically trying to find the words.

"And I'm still going. Clockwork and Nocturne are teaching me everything I need to know until I take the throne." Danny wasn't ready to tell her about his new life.

She didn't need to know that he had a new family. Not when she was what he had to leave behind despite how much it kills him. There wasn't a day he didn't miss her or think of her. Nothing could replace her.

Unaware of this Nocturne and Clockwork watched as Danny dreamed within a dream.

"We should just kill the clown," Nocturne said resolutely as he peered into the material realm.

"You swore not to interfere with the mortals anymore," Clockwork warned.

"I'm not like you, Kronos. I can't sit idly by and watch this happen. I actually care." Nocturne said leveling a glare at the time ghost, his eyes blazing.

"So you care for the boy now? I thought you said you couldn't stand children?" Clockwork smirked his eyebrow raised.

Nocturne huffed shifting the blanket he had laid on Danny to cover him properly.

"I am close to mortals. It is what I am. Children tend to have the most innocent dreams. They have nightmares they don't know how to handle. They are fitful sleepers and cry before they wake. They can't parse dreams from reality. So much care goes into forming their dreams but at the same time, I must scare them. To remind them they should be afraid of the dark. I just can't stand to make them cry and lose those sweet little dreams." Nocturne brushed his clawed hand against Clock's cheek. "I don't understand how you do it. You let them hurt. You know what will happen yet you do nothing."

"It is my purpose. I care but all actions have consequences. I can't weigh the lives of a few for all. I asked you to put the boy to sleep to spare him the pain, at least for now. Had I not, I fear his fate would be darker." Clockwork sighed leaning into Nox's hand.

"Then let's kill that man. I know you want to my love." Nocturne's smiled wickedly eager to return to the living world.

"That is not our role. No, there is another who will come soon." Clockwork said pushing his malicious lover away. "Besides if the boy wakes you know he will undoubtedly cause untold damage. You know how much he hates clowns as is. There will be no coming back from that."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I would be very proud." Nocturne hummed in delight.

(Am I ever going to run out of bat pics/gifs? Let's hope not.)

(Also gay ghosts dads. You're welcome.)

[barcaatthemoon]

translators || barcelona x teen!reader ||

You try to give your first English interview.

Before joining Barcelona, you had never left the small Catalan village that you had grown up in. You bled Barcelona in a way that the coaches said they hadn't seen since Alexia. There would never be another club for you. They took care of you just like your family did, and you loved every single one of the culers, on the pitch and off it.

As a part of the team, you had finally gotten to leave Spain. America was fine, even if you had little to no clue what was going on. The girls were there for you, however, and you were never alone. Alexia tried her best to look out for you on her own, but she had a lot of other things to worry about. That was how you found yourself with Aitana and Keira for the majority of the trip.

You got your first minutes in the game against Bay FC. Everybody had crowded around you to congratulate you. It was perfect for a few moments until a man with a microphone approached. You had been standing with Alexia, so you tried to move for her interview. A few of the girls had laughed at something the man said, and Alexia turned to let you know that he wanted to speak with you.

"Does he speak Catalan?" you asked. Alexia shook her head, and you prepared yourself to switch to Spanish. Your Spanish wasn't perfect, but it was pretty good for someone who had started learning it as late in life as you had. Catalan was the only language that your family had believed you'd ever need. "Spanish?"

"English, but don't worry. I believe in you," Alexia said as she pushed you towards the journalist. Immediately, you were off to a rough start. He was speaking too fast for you to decipher anything, so you just looked behind you at Keira for help.

He had repeated himself a couple of times already, and Alexia had an uneasy look on her face. You started to panic, and tears sprung to your eyes, but just before you could break down, Aitana stepped in to help you. You turned around to see more of your teammates crowding in around you for support if you wanted or needed it.

"He wants to know how it felt to get your first minutes," Aitana relayed each of his questions to you. You'd give your answer in Catalan, to which Ona translated back. It felt like an overly complicated game of telephone, but you were glad for this help. Linguistics were not your strong suit at all, but you knew that with more and more players coming from different countries, it was important to learn.

"You did good," Ona complimented as the journalist began to pack up his things. You had answered a couple of questions, and as far as first interviews went, you knew that it could have been worse. Mapi told you so as you made your way back to the locker room after.

"Ale, can they get me an English teacher?" you asked your captain as everybody filed onto the bus. Alexia seemed surprised by your question. She had heard the stories of how difficult it had been to teach you Spanish at the youth academy, but she was glad that you were taking initiative in learning another language.

"You know that we don't have many English journalists in Spain, right?" Mapi asked you. You nodded, rolling your eyes at her question.

"Yes, but I will be the face of Barcelona one day, and I'll have to speak to all sorts of people, just like Ale. What if you had not known enough English to speak with Ingrid, Maria?" You watched in amusement as Mapi's face contorted dramatically. Almost immediately after her mind stopped racing, Mapi threw herself into Ingrid's arms.

"Stop teasing her. We'll get you an English teacher when we get back to Barcelona, but until then, several of the girls speak English. It's never too early to start learning," Alexia told you. You nodded and looked around until you found Keira. You figured that since English was her native language, she'd be the easiest one to learn from.

[thevoidstaredback]

Barry knew something was wrong when he woke up that morning, but he couldn't place what. There was nothing wrong in the house, nor with his family. His team were as normal as they could be, and none of his rogues had gotten out, nor was anyone causing any trouble in Central City. Then, just as he'd gotten off work at the police station, an emergency meeting for the Justice League was called. Ugh, David's gonna be pissed that he has to call out!

The Watchtower, when he got there, was a mess. Heroes were obviously panicking, and there must be magic users on board because there were things flying every which way. The meeting room, however, was somehow worse.

"What the hell is going on?" The Flash demanded after ducking behind a chair.

"Constantine and Deadman are on a warpath!" Aquaman helpfully supplied from where he was hidden behind his own chair.

"I gathered that much," Flash shouted over the noise of a chair being shattered against the wall behind him.

Aquaman scowled at him. "The hell do you want me to say? I don't know what's got them so upset!

The door opened again, announcing Batman's presence. He cleared his throat and the room instantly fell silent. Things kept flying around, but they were much more lax than they had been. Cautiously, the gathered heroes emerged from their makeshift hiding places to sit in their chairs.

"What's this about, Constantine?" the Dark Knight asked once everyone was seated.

Instead of the Brit, the ghost beside him was the one to answer. "You idiots-" he growled, "-have really fucked up this time!" he shouted.

Flash idly noticed that only the heroes operating in America were present. Huh. He had a dream just like this last night!

"Slow down," Wonder Woman tried to placate, "What's going on?"

Now it was Constantine's turn to talk. "The US Government are more aware of magic then any of us-" He clearly meant the JLD. "-are comfortable with. The fact that they somehow hid it until now is baffling."

Since when is the US Gov. aware of anything? Flash quietly wondered.

Deadman, visible to everyone and slightly calmer than before, said, "It's been brought to my attention that your government as been targeting my people." He held up his hand and raised his voice to stop anyone from interrupting him before they could. "They've taken a child."

This time, both the ghost and the occultist allowed the noise to overtake the room. Superman was the one to put a stop to it by directly asking the two, "What do you mean they've taken a child?"

Zatanna, fashionably late, entered the room and clicked on the projector like this entrance had been practiced. If Flash didn't know any better, he would've thought she had practiced it. As the screen lit up, she took place beside her two teammates. "Phantom is a small time hero in a nowhere town in Illinois - at least, it usually sticks to Illinois - called Amity Park. We've been keeping tabs on the place, though Deadman here is the only one to have ever had repeated contact."

On the projector screen was the picture of a child near or in his mid-teens. He wore a black HAZMAT suit with white accents, white knee high boots, and white elbow gloves. His hair was white and his eyes the colour of cartoon radioactivity. He was snarling in the photo, obviously having been taken during a fight, if the ready stance was anything to go by.

When Zatanna moved to the next slide, it was an overshot of a place that was somewhere between being a town and a city. It was big enough that not everyone could possibly hope to know everyone, but small enough that everyone knew someone who knew someone. Based on the experience of several heroes, as well as several different statistics, it didn't look like the kind of place that would have a lot of police needed crime, let alone a dedicated hero.

"Several World Ending events were started and stopped here." Constantine continued, "Remember six months ago, when natural disasters erupted all over the planet? We tracked the epicenter to here. Same as four months ago when three quarters of the planet's population took an impromptu nap."

The slide was changed to show an empty field. "Two months ago," Deadman picked up, "The entire town and everyone in it disappeared off the face of this planet." Again, he waited out the uproar from the Justice League, continuing as though uninterrupted after they'd quieted down. "Three days later, it all reappeared," The picture was replaced by another overshot of the town, but there was a green tint to it. "A week later, I was called back to my home in the I̷͈̋̿̀̚n̶͙̙̲͇̤̪̅͋͘f̶̟̰̬̤̀̉̕i̵͕̫͖͔̟͝n̸̮͙̋̎̆̈́̂̈i̷̬̫̤̱̱̒͌͌t̷͉̪̐��̿͝è̴̙̊ ̴̪̠͍̞͆̌̀R̵̻͙̺̯͌e̸̫͉̖̙̖͐͆͊͠ȧ̵̭̻̩̙͇̔͜l̴͔̝͒m̸͖̦̟̠̭̥̄̇͆̀s̶̢͉̳̪̦̹̑͠. That is where I offically met young Phantom."

"Why is it green?" Aquaman wondered.

"Were you keeping tabs on the place before or after this all happened?" Batman asked over him.

"Before," Zatanna answered, "An interdimensional rift opened up in the town eleven months and five days ago. A second one opened up in the same town ten months and two days ago."

"Why didn't we know about it?" Flash asked, nothing else joining the pure curiosity in his voice. "This kinda seems like something all of use should've been told about."

The magician shook her head. "Because this is our area of expertise, not yours. None of you could've done anything except make things worse if you knew."

The speedster nodded, accepting the answer easily. He didn't like working with magic. He didn't understand it, and it took way too long to actually start believing in the stuff, but he knew there was no way he'd be useful in situations that relied on magic. Best leave that to the professionals.

"I went to the town to scope things out and met Phantom," Constantine said, the slide changing to show another picture of the young hero. He was hiding in an alley, staring at his hands with something akin to fear in his eyes. "He let me take a look at the rift, explained a few things to me, and then we set up a means of contact, though he only ever talks to Deadman."

"Wait," Robin spoke up from where he was beside Batman, "I know that place!" Batman didn't show any reaction other than turning to look at his protege. Robin, for his part, glided smoothly past the look from his mentor. "Me and the rest of my team passed through there about three months ago. We met the town hero, but it wasn't Phantom."

"What do you mean?" Wonder Woman asked.

"The town's hero is called Red Huntress. She's helped out the Young Justice a few times in the past few months with some supernatural issues. She deals mostly with ghosts, though."

Deadman bristled, obviously not liking something that the boy had said.

"Oh?" Superman asked, "What did she tell you guys?"

"That Phantom's one of her rogues." Robin said, "Apparently, he causes a lot of property damage and doesn't stick around to help with relief efforts. She told us that he also kidnapped the mayor, and has attacked the local high school too many times to count."

"That's a load of shit," Constantine muttered under his breath. Louder, he said, "Phantom has only ever worked to protect his town. Red Huntress didn't show up until two months after he started his work!"

"We wait to act until we have more information," Batman, the paranoid bastard, ordered, "As soon as we know exactly who we can trust and what we're going into, we'll stick to recon."

Deadman slammed his hands on the table. "You're government took a child! This is not the time for recon! This is time to act!"

"Recon." Batman stood. "Robin, I want a report from you about your team's interactions with Red Huntress, as well as a report from herself. Constantine and Zatanna, I want a full report on everything you know about Amity Park and whatever's going on there. Dismissed." Then, he walked out of the room, Robin trailing closely after him.

"Um, Bat?" Fash stood, stopping Batman and Robin in the doorway, they both turned to face him, "Maybe we should hear them out? This sounds serious."

Batman stared at Flash for a moment longer before walking back into the room. He gestured for the three present members of the Justice League Dark to continue.

Deadman had a small look of relief flash over his face. "Your government's been sending ghost hunters to Amity Park for the better part of a year now. They were dead set on catching Phantom, and now they have. We don't know-" He cut himself off. After a few seconds, he disappeared completely. Constantine's and Zatanna's phones both went off. Nearly an entire minute after Deadman disappeared, the alarms in the Watchtower went off.

"Fuck," Flash swore.

Part 2 Part 4

[saphronethaleph]

Legally Mandated Vacation Days

The holoprojector in Palpatine’s private quarters activated, an image shimmering to life, and Palpatine smiled in anticipation of seeing Vader kneeling before him.

That lasted approximately half a second, until he saw the actual image.

“Your Majesty!” an extremely nervous Imperial Navy lieutenant said, saluting. “It’s an honour to-”

“Where is Vader?” Palpatine asked. “This is his personal hologram frequency!”

“Ah… Lord Vader assigned me to take his calls while he was away,” the lieutenant explained. “It’s, ah… an honour to be speaking to you… do you have a message?”

“Away?” Palpatine repeated. “Why is Vader away?”

“I don’t know!” the lieutenant protested. “Your Majesty, I don’t know anything more than what I’ve told you – he just told me to take his calls and said he was using up some annual leave, since he hadn’t taken any since the year one.”

It took Palpatine a fraction of a second to actually calculate what that meant, because replacing the calendar when he came to unquestioned power had been what the youth called ‘a flex’ but it had also caused significant calendrical chaos and he personally still thought in the old system at least half the time.

Eleven years, then. Vader had eleven years of stored up annual leave, and he was choosing to expend some.

“Where did he go?” Palpatine asked.

“I didn’t ask!” the lieutenant replied. “Your Majesty, I didn’t want to die, and also I don’t think I’m allowed to ask anyway…”

Palpatine glowered at the hologram, then untensed.

Marginally.

“Inform Vader that I want to speak to him as soon as possible,” he said, then ended the call before the lieutenant could start fawning again.

“Uncle Owen!” Luke called, running down the steps of the homestead. “Aunt Beru! Someone’s coming!”

“We’d better see what this is about, then,” Owen Lars decided. “Did you recognize them?”

The pre-teen looked thoughtful.

“Don’t think so,” he said. “Whoever it was, they were wearing black. Not sure why.”

“Black robes are just as cool as white,” Beru commented. “I know black gets hotter, but it doesn’t reach the skin.”

Luke frowned.

“It might have been robes,” he said. “Don’t know.”

“Well, let’s see who it is,” Owen decided.

Beru’s gaze darted to where one of their blasters was hidden, as Owen headed up the stairs.

“Oh kriff,” Owen said, in a tiny voice.

Then a black shape, like death, came down the stairs.

The figure in the armoured suit and cloak wasn’t really forcing Owen to retreat, not really.

Not through any physical means, or otherwise.

He was just… walking, and Owen was responding in an instinctive sort of way to get out of the way of Darth Vader, the Emperor’s Enforcer, the sign of death across the whole of the known galaxy.

Upon reaching floor level, Vader examined Beru, then Luke, then the room around them.

“So,” Darth Vader said, in a dread but awkward voice. “How have you been doing?”

It took all those present several seconds to find their voices.

“...what?” Owen asked, eventually.

“I know it has been a while,” Vader went on, then stopped. “…ah, of course. It is unsurprising you fail to recognize me. I… was not wearing this, before.”

“Then who are you?” Beru asked. “You’re acting like you know us, but… you’re Darth Vader.”

“Yes,” Vader agreed. “I… have had a complicated last few months. I ran into someone from my past. We fought. I was seriously injured, and it gave me reason to consider what I have made of my life. About the relatives that I have failed to visit.”

Owen and Beru exchanged glances, then both looked at Luke.

“Are you really Darth Vader?” Luke said, sounding fascinated. “Everyone says you’re really scary, but you’re in our kitchen and I don’t know if that means you’re scary.”

“I am extremely scary,” Vader replied, in tones of either great seriousness or impressive deadpan. “I have killed people for annoying me. I have killed people who did not have the time to annoy me.”

“Did you cut their heads off?” Luke asked, in that way that children can. “I’ve never seen that happen but it sounds like it’d be really messy. There’s two bits of person then.”

Vader made a sound that, charitably, could be interpreted as chuckling.

“It appears I have been remiss in not talking about my work to my step-brother’s child,” he said. “I approve of you, child.”

“Step-brother’s child…” Owen said, then his eyes went wide. “You’re – you’re Anakin!?”

Vader tilted his head slightly. “Who else would I be?”

“I’ve got relatives,” Beru pointed out. “I wouldn’t have thought any of them was Darth Vader, but… we thought Anakin was dead.”

Vader appeared to think about that.

“I can see why you would think that,” he admitted.

“Does that mean you’re my dad?” Luke asked.

Vader did a double take.

“What,” he said.

For a moment, simmering anger filled the room, then it faded away.

“I suppose if you thought that I was dead, then taking in my child would be reasonable,” he conceded. “As my only surviving relatives of any sort.”

“I’ll get some water for us to share?” Beru suggested, falling back on basic hospitality. And on a way to get out of the sight of the others for a minute.

She was going to need to comm Ben Kenobi to stay the absolute kriff away from the homestead for now.

It was at least possible that Vader – Anakin – whichever would be more interested in his very much alive and present son he was reconnecting with than a mention of an absent Kenobi somewhere else on the planet who made Luke toys.

Kenobi here? The fight would destroy the homestead, and that would make it considerably more difficult to keep Luke safe… even with how the difficulty of that had jumped significantly in the last ten minutes.

[larluce]

I had an idea for a Post canon merthur AU!!

I don't know if you have seen Sakura Card Captor? Well, there is a character called Yukito that has double personality/two alter egos. One that is a regular human being with sunshine personality called Yukito and the other that is a literal Angel/powerful creature that is cold and merciless called Yue. The interesting thing about this character is that, while Yue is aware that Yukito exists and can access to Yukito's memories, Yukito doesn't have the same privilege. Yukito, as far as he knows, he is just a regular teen student that sometimes has mental gaps.

So I wondered, what if Merlin, due to all the trauma he went through or maybe through a spell he did to himself, splited his personality in two so he could handle the long wait for Arthur's return better? One would be Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer that ever lived that also incarnates the worst aspects of him, basically Dark Merlin in all his glory, and the other one would be a Merlin without his memories, ergo, without all his traumas, his personality would be series 1 innocent Merlin, but this Merlin doesn't have magic (or rather he has it, but is blocked) and he thinks he is a common mortal man.

So one night Arthur finally returns and it's Merlin who finds him when he comes out of the lake (Emrys made sure Merlin always lived close to the lake). Of course, he's startled an somewhat scared but a feeling inside him urges him to help this stranger. The man is wearing a knight armor and talks old english for some reason. (Merlin never thought his extra studies in old english that he took for fun would actually come on handy). The man only says nonesense as he helps him out of the lake and takes him to his home thought. Apparently the stranger firmly believes he is King Arthur and that he is Merlin the wizard. He has to repeat him several times that he isn't, but they do share the name though.

Merlin: (gives Arthur a change of clothes and says in old english) Here. These are the biggest clothes I have. They might fit you and I put some blankets on the couch for you to sleep.

Arthur: (doesn't take the clothes and just stares at him)...

Merlin: (thinking he didn't speak the language correctly) I said-

Arthur: (heartbroken) You really don't remember me, do you?

Merlin: (sighs) No. I don't know you. I'm sorry.

Arthur: (almost desperate) You do! I don't know what they did to you or what happened to this place, but I'm going to figure it out. I promise!

Merlin: (smiles) Sure you will. (Thinks) He must have some mental affliction, poor man. (Says as he leaves the clothes on the couch) I'll get you some hot chocolate. (Makes a move to go to the kitchen, but has a sudden headache and faints)

Arthur: Merlin! (Runs and catches him before he hits the floor, worried) Merlin, are you alright? Please, wake up! Merlin (shakes him)

Emrys: (opens his eyes that are glowing gold) My king (his eyes water) You are back. (Craddles Arthur's face)

So Emrys explains his condition to Arthur and also that 1500 years have passed and there's probably a catastrophy coming their way since Arthur is now back and all. Obviously, it's a lot to process for Arthur and he doesn't take it all well at first, but he calms down and accepts everything eventually. Arthur can't help but notice this version of Merlin,despite crying for him at the beginning, seems void of emotion most of the time.

Emrys does a spell on Arthur so he can speak modern english and tells him he will switch back to being Merlin soon.

Emrys: (serious) You can tell him you were delirious due to almost drowning or that you had some mental affliction. He already believes that anyways.

Arthur: I'm not going to lie to him, Merlin.

Emrys: I'm not Merlin. He IS Merlin and he's not going to believe you are King Arthur.

Arthur: Why can't you stay like this?

Emrys: I'm too dangerous when I'm in control for too long. Merlin is harmless and can actually be your friend.

Arthur: You are my friend!

Emrys: (coldly) No, Arthur. I'm your weapon, your protector at best, but nothing more.

Arthur: I don't believe that!

Merlin: Believe what you want. (Turns his back to Arthur)

Arthur: And I won't lie to him either!

Merlin: Tell him what you want (Eyes glowing, about to switch)

Arthur: Mer-I mean Emrys! (Stops him by holding his arm and Enrys turns to him) When will I see you again?

Emrys: When I'm needed or when you call me. Don't abuse though. Merlin might get suspicious if he has too many mental gaps. (Switchs back to Merlin and faints again)

Arthur: (catches him before he hits the floor) This better not become an habit.

Time goes by. Merlin still believes Arthur is crazy, but at least he speaks english now. Merlin does find strange the Arthur has no document, nor he is register in the sistem apparently. Merlin doesn't have the heart to get this "King Arthur" out of his house though, since he clearly has no where to go so Merlin lets him stay. Not for free of course, he makes Arthur help with the cleaning and stuff and doesn't stand for prat behavior when Arthur acts all kingly.

Arthur gets why Emrys told him this Merlin was his Merlin despite him not having his memories or his magic. He is clumsy, he jokes, he smiles, calls him out when he's being mean, but also is there for him when he needs him. Is the Merlin he knew but more... happy. Without burdens of destiny or traumas of the past.

Meanwhile Emrys just appears when they are investigating or when there is danger coming their way, like a magical creature attack or a car Arthur failed to see when he crossed the street. Emrys never smiles or small talks, he just goes to the point and gets the job done. He is dark, but overall he is... broken.

Arthur heart eaches when he realises... he is the one who took Merlin's light. He was the one who broke him.

And that's all I have for now. I don't know how merthur would get together in this AU. What do you think?

[verysium]

blu lock top artists on Spotify??? i need your thoughts on it

anon you had me pulling up my spotify playlists and browsing through the entirety of genius.com for three hours straight. i'm going to tweak this prompt a little bit and include specific songs that best represent them since it's easier for me to explain that way.

RIN

the fanon answer for this is chase atlantic. while their songs do encapsulate parts of his personality (mostly the edgy teenager and disillusioned youth persona), i feel like this choice does not do his full character justice.

the canon answer for this is king gnu, more specifically the song "prayer x." i can picture this since rin seems like the type to enjoy alternative rock/indie, but the fact that it's the ending theme to banana fish is what gets to me. like...do you see yourself in ash or something? i hope you don't cus it doesn't end well. that anime had me bawling my eyes out for months, and i still can't think about it without breaking down again.

furthermore, the lyrics and music video to this song are very cryptic and borderline nihilistic. for example, "hiding behind this nonchalant smile" and "my life's spark will wink out of existence." i feel like this speaks volumes about rin's mental health and internal thought process. he obviously does not process his emotions normally and instead represses them. he also struggles with the idea of finding a purpose in what is otherwise a cyclical routine with no end. he's worried and, quite frankly, afraid that if he ever stops pursuing his dream, everything will come crumbling down, and he will have to face all the demons he's avoided for so long. the main theme here is that he cannot face his reality (the fact that sae's dream is not his own.) so he does everything in order to escape this fact even if it ultimately destroys him.

from my own playlists, i'd assign him the following songs/artists:

"beautiful boy" by john lennon

this is a love letter to baby rin. i feel like he would've enjoyed this song as either a lullaby or something he listened to on car rides to the beach during summer vacations. he probably still listens to this when it's raining outside or he's had a bad day. reminds him of his childhood and the good parts of it.

"the love club" by lorde

this is something pre-teen rin listened to. the irony is spot-on, and i feel like the lyrics would be relevant during a time when he was going through his rebellious phase and fully fleshing out his place in society. in this instance, the club would metaphorically be wherever his brother is at, whether that's the guys sae meets in spain or the group of football players considered "top-notch" in japan. everything is about finding a place in this club/clique in an effort to become free and differentiate himself from others. the only problem is that rin ironically loses his freedom because he tries so hard to be among the best. he signs his life away in pursuit of a dream, and it's something that now defines him.

"the only problem i got with the club / is how you're severed from the people / who watched you grow up"

this lyric in particular could apply to either one of the itoshi brothers. it's one of the caveats that comes with fame. you gain everything, but you lose everything before that. both of the itoshis likely experienced some amount of separation from their loved ones, including each other. also lorde's vocals are beautiful as always, so there's no reason not to include this song.

"howlin' 404" by DEAN

the production for this song is on point. the intro has a segment from a 1930s american horror radio program which is fitting because rin canonically watches horror movies. i think this song is something rin might listen to during cold autumns or midnights when he just can't sleep.

lyrically, there is the motif of a time loop which is also present in "prayer x." rin's character itself just has this connection with the raw grittiness of existentialism and this idea of repeating days without purpose. (in fact, he would make a great psychological thriller lead.) rin is also a control freak. if he lets one loose end go, it will unravel the entire thing. that matches up with the idea of "killing me softly." rin would rather prolong his pain than have it ripped from him all at once and leave him with nothing. i find this in a lot of people in real life too. even if your trauma wasn't good for you, it sometimes becomes the only thing you truly own. it's like that one quote from bojack horseman. "if i don't, that means that all the damage i got isn't good damage, it's just damage." rin feels like he has something to prove, and if he fails, all his suffering would've been for nothing.

"moonchild" by RM

i may be a bit biased since i love the mono mixtape, and i've written a rin fic about celestial bodies, but....this song just fits him. there's also a remarkable similarity with the lyrics of the previous songs i've listed. i'm just going to list a few:

"smiling in endless pain / you know / there's no freedom when you say freedom out loud"

one thing i love about RM is that he doesn't shy away from character flaws. he writes songs specifically for those who are always picked last, who aren't remarkable in any way, who feel weighed down by their normality. he gives them their spotlight and due diligence. for example, the entirety of the chorus is a repeat of "moonchild, you shine." i find this interesting since it's usually the sun that shines. but the sun is already sae, and rin is relegated to being the moon. yet even though the moon doesn't have its own light (it merely reflects the sun), it still shines bright in the darkness. rin doesn't know it yet, but he himself is a big role model for others such as isagi, his fans, and people just like him. so yeah....i'd take this song as a message of hope for future rin.

SAE

the fanon answer is lana del rey, and i would agree to a certain extent. under the right circumstances, he could become one of those dreamy, emotionally stunted, and tired men you guys all lust over. if y/n ever wrote a romantic song about him, it would be either "west coast" (for the spanish influences) or "art deco" (for the vibes.)

the headcanon answer is nothing. i don't think he listens to music much. even if he did, it would be probably classical/instrumental or just white noise for his long flights. i imagine him listening to erik satie's "gymnopédie no. 3" on a train ride or something.

from my own playlists, i'm going to give him these songs/artists:

"remind me" by röyksopp

i don't know how to explain this, but this song gives a bittersweet sense of nostalgia. think early 2000s when the TV footage was still grainy and had retro graphics. you're carrying around your mini mp3 player whilst wandering through the airport and wondering how the hell you even ended up there. that's the general ambience of this song.

lyrically, the song also matches well with sae. i'm going to give you a few examples:

"it's only been a week / the rush of being home in rapid fading"

again, this is a tribute to the disconnection sae feels from his home. he goes everywhere, but he belongs nowhere. when he finally returns to japan, he finds himself missing spain. when he's in madrid, he thinks about the ocean back in kamakura. there never is a place that truly fills that gaping hole in his chest. i also feel like sae experiences FOMO on a whole other level. he constantly feels like something is wrong/missing and he's not doing enough.

"brave men tell the truth / the wise man's tools are analogies and puzzles"

the idea here is that though sae is blunt with his words, he is a coward with his intentions/true feelings. he can brutally call out someone without hesitation, but to actually reveal his own truths and motives? he'd rather shrivel up in a hole and die. this is especially applicable to love. to him, a wise man is someone who doesn't open his heart up easily. instead, he hints at his feelings, and whether or not you can figure that out is on you. sae hates it when others play games with him. it's where his hypocrisy lies. he demands straightforward honesty from others, but he himself will unintentionally play games with you if it means he can hide himself behind his walls.

"a woman holds her tongue / knowing silence will speak for her"

this is the closest you guys are ever going to get to sae itoshi's ideal type. he loves people who don't need to say something for him to believe it. they just get it. your silence is automatically enough for him to know that you love him. similarly, you don't even need to speak a word to understand what he's feeling.

"night shift" by lucy dacus

this song is sae if he was that one ex-boyfriend who really fucked you up emotionally, and you never got over him even though you said you did. now that i think about it, the story could be told from either POV. this could be sae trying to erase you from his mind, or it could also be you post-breakup.

"you've got a 9 to 5 / so i'll take the night shift / and i'll never see you again / if i can help it"

i know this one lyric caused controversy all over tiktok, so i'm going to add my own interpretation. at face value, this is exactly what it says it is. sae doesn't want to see you again, nor do you. he's willing to go out of his way just to avoid you, and truthfully he would. when sae finds himself in trouble, he doesn't look for something new to fix him. instead, he cuts everything off and subtracts anything that is deadweight. if you're out of his life, then you're out of his life. he's not coming back for you (or at least that's what he says to convince himself). same thing with rin. he knows he hurt rin, but he's not going to go back and try to make it right. he's going to move on and try to justify his actions every step of the way. one day, rin will move on too, and then sae would have been right all along. (unfortunately, that is not the way things work, but that's a lesson for another time.)

the alternative interpretation is that y/n is the other woman. this could be literal as in sae already has someone else in his life, and he only sees you at night. you're only ever going to be the night shift. it could also be metaphorical as in you're merely a distraction in the grand scheme of things. you're the mistress, but football is his wife if that makes sense. his career will always take precedence.

"you get me so high" by the neighborhood

this song is all the words sae wished he said to rin but never did. it made me cry because everything would have been so different if they had just set aside their pride and truthfully sought each other out.

"hope you don't regret it / i pushed a lot back but i can't forget it"

repressing feelings seems to be a recurring issue with the itoshi brothers. like....maybe if i just push it out of sight, it will also go out of mind. and at its core, this all stems from fear. fear of facing the consequences, the hypotheticals, the terrifying realization that you did something you regret and there really is no turning back from it. but realistically, if you think about it, a lot of this is the byproduct of overthinking. sometimes the situation isn't as complicated as we might make it out to be. sometimes an apology doesn't fix everything, but it's a proposition to be something more, an attempt at a solution. but sae and rin are so blindsided by their own internal turmoil that they cannot see this.

"for a long time i took it all for granted / i really thought we had it / but at the time it was more than i could manage"

ah....the "taking for granted" part. i could ramble on about that for hours. i think it really is some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy that we never miss something until it's gone. and in a way, it's not something that we can always control. the value you assign to a person/object when you have it is going to be fundamentally different from the value you assign to it when it's no longer in your grasp. that's how scarcity works. something with a limited supply is always going to be worth more. the vice versa works as well. you might yearn after something but then throw it away the moment you finally have it and grow tired of it. this sort of dilemma that comes with appreciation is so common i really wouldn't blame the itoshi brothers for what they did. it is immensely difficult to know when you're going to lose something or when you need to let it go. and sometimes it's hard to be constantly grateful for what you have because many of us are wired to want something more. tbh that's what makes the itoshis relatable.

"if we can leave it all behind us / and meet in between"

now sae would never say this unless he himself had actually reflected on what happened and fully processed it. but maybe in the future, they could set aside their differences and reach out to each other. (this is how i cope)

"but i just had to let you know / i never meant to hurt you, though / i had all my motives / i didn't know they wouldn't mix with your emotions / i just had to reach my goals / never knew i'd meet you though"

that's the thing with personal ambition. sometimes you get so caught up in yourself, you forget all about others. and this isn't really selfishness, or at least intentional selfishness. it just sort of happened that way. you never meant to hurt them, but you still somehow did.

"we should stick together / you're my best friend / i'll love you forever"

yeah....this line was the one that did it for me. something about the dysfunctional sibling dynamic just eats away at my insides. like....i could've loved you, we could've been so much together, but why aren't we? what we have isn't hate, but it isn't the love i know and crave either.

"we could be the greatest / it doesn't matter if we're never rich or famous"

ok but if rin ever heard this leave sae's lips, i think all of his trauma would just be magically healed. he just wants his brother to see him. like fully see him and love him. but alas, what is blue lock without angst, am i right?

"love in the dark" by adele

now i don't think sae would ever listen to adele, but the lyrics are just too fitting. i was going to write a fic on this, but it's going to have to ferment a bit in the drafts for now. basically this is the entire rin/sae traumatic scene but as a melodramatic torch song with adele's heavenly vocals.

"take your eyes off of me so i can leave / i'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me"

um...this is literally sae's internal monologue??? i feel like letting go of things is something both the itoshi brothers struggle with. their lives are constantly pulling them in different directions, and eventually they become numb to it all. they don't form any strong attachment to anything besides football because that's the one thing that won't change for them. in a way, this is necessary for their character development (in the sense that they need to discern for themselves what to keep and what to let go), but it also destroys any sense of belonging they might have (hence why they feel lonely.)

"don't try to change my mind / i'm being cruel to be kind"

sae would definitely say this. like word for word. if only he wasn't a vague dumbass with no communication skills.

"i can't love you in the dark / it feels like we're oceans apart"

this is literally their dynamic in one lyric. there is the physical distance, and then there's the emotional distance.

"we're not the only ones, / i don't regret a thing / every word i've said, / you know i'll always mean"

this sort of reminds me when sae said that the world is huge, and there's so many players way better than him out there. i think spain really gave him a reality check, and he grew angry at rin when rin couldn't understand his disillusionment.

"everything changed me / and i don't think you can save me"

adele sort of echoes this softly at the end of the song. i feel like sae would do that too. he wouldn't admit his own insecurities until the very end, and only then does the truth come out.

"i'll sleep when i'm older" by bruno major

this is sae when he's older and fully mature, preferably after he meets you. he finally decides to damn it all and do what he wants.

"conversations with elders and the wisdom they bring ... / the view from an aeroplane at twelve thousand feet"

sae views things that previously annoyed him in a new light. he used to hate his elders, but he visited you and your mother once, and something changed within him. now he calls his parents more often, and his eyes linger on the old couples near the park benches. sometimes, his gaze softens just a bit when he imagines the two of you growing old just like them.

flights used to be a mundane part of his routine, but now he finds himself leaning over your window seat to see the mountains down below. the clouds and sunny weather set him aglow. and you just look so pretty when you fall asleep on his shoulder. he doesn't ever want this change.

"meet god on a mountain top along with the stars / find love somewhere, anywhere / fall deep from the start"

sae used to avoid love, but now he's running at it full-force. people tend to shy away from making sae a romantic because it seems too ooc. however, in the right situation, i think sae could entirely abandon his previous ideals and become someone else entirely. (that's why it's called a character evolution guys.)

"misplace my mind and follow my heart"

again, if you're able to make sae lose all rationality and let his heart guide him instead, then you've really done something. kudos to you for penetrating the walls of the coldest asshole known to mankind.

"i'll be a firework, not a flickering flame / treat life all around me like a one-player game"

this one lyric applies both to younger and older sae. younger sae is someone unafraid of risking it all if it means he can achieve something worthwhile. it doesn't matter how many players he has to defeat, how many people he has to leave behind. in this world, it is just him and the goal he has to accomplish.

however, after he's mellowed out after a few years (i'd say around middle age), he probably reinterprets this as something else. he's not going to constrain himself to his tunnel vision anymore. there's so much more to life than that.

"i'll go to the party and forget all the names / should it climb back to haunt me, / it ends all the same"

sae finally lets himself live the life he never thought he'd have. he does stupid things like get drunk and make a fool of himself. but you're there for him, so he doesn't really care. in fact, he can finally say that for the first time in a long time....he's having fun.

KAISER

the fanon answer is the weeknd. i'm not going to lie, i completely agree with this one. i saw this one edit of him to "party monster," and i can say i have been fully enlightened and converted. however, this is not just about a toxic male manipulator anthem. it's much more than that.

this is about running away from the ugliest parts of yourself, becoming a slave to your vices, knowing you're broken somewhere and you can never fix it. i would say his character is most similar to "starboy" in the fact that he literally flaunts everything he has to hide the fact that deep down inside, he really has nothing else to hold onto. "starboy" is all about the status symbol (money, red lamborghinis, glass table girls turning into ebony table girls lol). but at the end of the day, he doesn't really have anything except an empty heart and a satirical quip for all those who made him famous. the same theme applies to "the morning" and "house of balloons."

in the romantic sense, i think "don't break my heart" would represent kaiser. and no, this is not a justification for him being an f-boy. it's more so an exploration of why people might think he is an f-boy. i do not condone his actions, but i do try to understand them. in particular, i feel like the lyrics of "sacrifice" also fit him well.

"i was born in a city / where the winter nights don't ever sleep / so this life's always with me / the ice inside my veins will never bleed"

i headcanon kaiser as being born in either berlin or munich. and if you don't know anything about those two places, just know that you freeze your ass off during wintertime. i think it's interesting how his past could be intrinsically tied with a place, and he takes a piece of his past self with him wherever he goes. the ice in veins part also made me think about how kaiser would rather freeze up every weakness within himself than let them run free and make him human.

"every time you try to fix me / i know you'll never find that missing piece"

guys...did you hear that? to all you delusional people out there, this is your service announcement. you cannot fix someone who does not want to be fixed. write that down and memorize it. all meaningful change starts with a shift in mindset, and if they themselves are not in the right headspace to recognize that something is wrong and actively want to change, you're not going to get anywhere. so yeah....kaiser is not going to change unless HE starts doing the changing.

"i hold you through the toughest parts / when you feel like it's the end / 'cause life is still worth living"

i think this lyric sort of explores kaiser's dynamic with ness. on one front, he is the one picking ness up from his miserable past and instilling a sense of hope into him (intentionally or not.) but on another front, this could also be a problem. kaiser is almost forcefully optimistic in the way that he believes anything is possible. it has to be possible because there can be no other way. but the thing is.....you have to know your limits sometimes. blind optimism is, ironically, similar to cornering yourself.

"i can break you down and pick you up / and fuck like we are friends / but don't be catching feelings"

this is definitely the type of bullshit kaiser would spew. i could picture a fwb or situationship with him where y/n just constantly receives the short end of the stick. now this may be reaching, but i also feel like this is how kaiser projects his own trauma onto others. he himself clawed his way up to the top and put himself back together every time he fell down. the problem is that he also expects you to be that resilient. he's going to treat you badly because you're supposed to be like him: someone who can overcome everything and strive towards the impossible.

the headcanon answer to his top artist would be keshi. in particular, i think kaiser would fit the vibe of "2 soon" and "drunk." long story short, you finally broke up with him, and he's still reeling from the impact.

within my fics, i envision a dialogue between kaiser and y/n from each one of their perspectives. so based on that, i'm going to assign him the following songs/artists:

"gibson girl" by ethel cain

i know i said earlier that kaiser's character is not solely about toxic manipulation, but you have to understand that all bad habits originate from somewhere. kaiser is innately self-destructive, and he brings you down along with him. this song is about that but from y/n's perspective. there's this idea of trying to find agency in a situation where you have none. i don't have the word count to explain ethel cain lore in all of its naked glory, but all i can say is that this song is a banger and deals with themes like femininity as a performance, finding power in pain, religious motifs, etc.

"glory box" by portishead

this song is y/n's last plea to kaiser before they fully give up on him and leave. i'm also a sucker for anything that involves an exploration of gender dynamics and what it means to be a woman, and this song is riddled with it.

"suffocation" by crystal castles

this is kaiser post-isagi defeat (cue that one scene where he was trying to choke himself.) similar to sae, it's all or nothing with him. he suffers from this feeling of inferiority. everyone made him out to be this great figure of impossible dreams and legends, but look at him now. he's nothing. aren't you disappointed? he had you fooled, but he also fooled himself. so yeah....kaiser is definitely the most self-deprecating out of all of the boys at blue lock.

ISAGI

the fanon answer is laufey, and i also agree. he's so sweet, and laufey's music just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. he would also be that one love that came creeping up on you when you least expected it. "valentine" would be the song for that. i picture a reader who's had a series of unfortunate breakups and is right on the edge of giving up entirely. but then isagi comes along, and it's just so easy to love him. as easy as breathing. and then you think maybe it wasn't so bad after all. you just never found the right one until he came into your life. furthermore, isagi is a jazz pop princess, and you can't convince me otherwise.

the headcanon answer is IU. more specifically, i would say "troll" from her lilac album. i feel like even if you and isagi broke up, it would still be like you two never broke up at all. you're both on good terms, and even though you know it's counterproductive to keep cycling back to each other, you do it anyways. and it's okay because you're both still in love.

from my own playlists, i would assign the following songs/artists:

"winter bear" by v

this is my comfort song. it feels like those big sherpa blankets you tuck yourself under when you're lying next to the heater in winter. isagi would kiss your forehead and nuzzle your nose before you two drifted off to sleep.

"a boy named pluto" by hailey knox

this one is so romantic lol. i also like the dynamic where one party is afraid to love, but the other person loves them unconditionally. that would be isagi. he'd respect your decision and wait for you as long as you need it. but if you're ever ready to give him a chance, just know that he's going to treasure all of you.

"put your records on" by ritt momney

the inspiring thing about isagi is that he never lets anyone put him down. he takes rejection as redirection, failure as room for improvement. and in that way, i think this song encapsulates his resilience. he'd be such a good boyfriend not just romantically but in the way that he would literally pick you back up to your feet, dust you off, and make sure everything was alright.

"fairy of shampoo" by dosii

i picture isagi as someone who falls first and falls harder. he just loves you so much, and he doesn't even need a reason why. i saw somewhere that sometimes you don't love someone because they're your soulmate/twin flame/supernaturally fated other. you love them because you consciously made the decision to. isagi is like that. he loves you on purpose.

helppp why does this sound like an academic paper...i'm sorry anon. i got carried away with this, but i hope u like it.

[sotwk]

Taken (Eomer x unnamed OC) - Part 2 of 3

Part 1 / Part 3

Love Confession feat. Eomer Eadig

Valentine 2023 Event by @sotwk

Summary: Eomer is determined to convince the woman he loves of his long-hidden devotion, but the obligations of his new crown and her baseborn origins shake her faith in their future together.

Prompt: "It's hard for me to describe what I feel for you… but just know that it's love nonetheless."

Requested by and Dedicated to: @laneynoir You've probably forgotten about making this Valentine ask, but I remember and write down everything you ask of me! <3 Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 3.9k

Content: Angsty romance, declarations of love, jealousy, mutual pining, class division, shield-maiden, King Eomer, post-RotK, non-canon pairing

Rating: T (Teens and up)

Warnings: Excessive angst? Verbal passion? This is clean but it will do a number on your feels.

To Read on AO3: Link

Tumblr Post for Taken, Part 1: Link

Taken 

Third Age 3019 May 2

Minas Tirith, Gondor

PART TWO

“My lord, are you certain it is safe for you to go without a proper escort?” 

Eomer cast a taut but amused smirk at Haleth, son of Hama, over the horse they had just finished tacking up together. His new squire, one of the youngest fighters to survive the Battle of Hornburg, had been appointed to the post just very recently, and so still had much to learn. 

Eomer dismissed the given counsel that a king needed someone with experience in his direct service, not a novice that required training. He had seen with his own eyes how bravely Hama’s orphaned boy had helped to defend the refugees at the Glittering Caves; in Eomer’s eyes, the child had earned the honor several times over.

“Surely you don’t mean to imply that the King of the Horse-lords is incapable of defending himself on a short ride?”

“No, sire. It is just…” Haleth’s eyes darted about nervously and he lowered his voice. “You ride with a woman. If something were to happen, would you not have to defend yourself and her as well?”

At that, Eomer chuckled. “I commend your gallant instincts lad, but I advise you not to make such an insinuation in the presence of a known shield-maiden. They do not take kindly to having their abilities questioned, and will be quick to set you right.” He patted his squire’s shoulder to show that no offense was taken. “Rest assured that the lady is more than capable of holding her own, and of shielding me from harm if need be.” 

The boy need not know that Eomer would sooner die than put her in that position. He had kept that a secret from her and the rest of his Éored for years, although perhaps a little too successfully and to his own detriment.  

Riding Firefoot into the white-stone square courtyard that connected the galleries of stables, Eomer quickly saw that she was already waiting for him, standing alert beside her own horse. Greywind, a dappled mare that bore no meager resemblance to her equine brother, tossed her head and whickered softly at Firefoot's approach. It was a warmer reception than his master received.

"Good morning, my lord," the shield-maiden acknowledged with a nod as curt as her tone. Royal protocol satisfied, she turned and swung up into the saddle of her own steed. 

Her cold shoulder was to be his comeuppance, then. So be it. Her silent rages were nothing Eomer had not seen, borne, and successfully navigated before. 

But today, this time, would be different. Everything was sure to be different after that kiss, which, after a sleepless night of pondering and self-debating, he would still swear on Bema was no mistake. Clumsy perhaps, but an action he did not regret leaping into. There was no part of Eomer that did not desire to repeat it, over and over. 

First, he must resolve the confusion his recklessness had caused. 

"Follow my lead,” he said, and spurred Firefoot on toward the exit gates. 

His command came from habits formed over years of riding together, and so did her immediate obedience. Her loyalty had always been faultless; loyalty to Rohan, loyalty to him. Whenever he called and whatever he asked for, she gave, just as she came to meet him now, regardless of what had transpired between them last night. 

This new epiphany that her devotion to him might be encouraged not just by duty, but a love to reciprocate his, still felt like too much to hope for. 

They rode side by side down the levels of Minas Tirith, and soon were past the city’s great white walls. At the slightest shift of his master’s weight, Firefoot burst into a full charge down the North-way, rejoicing at the freedom to run across open land once more, an impatience that mirrored Eomer’s own. Next to them, Greywind and rider matched their gait to keep up, and they tore their way for several miles northward into Pelennor. 

Eomer’s body sang at the rush of the wind over his skin, through his hair and his cloak that streamed over Firefoot’s haunches. Too long had he been cooped up within the city walls, tethered to the duties of his new office. It still felt unseemly for him to carry the title of King while his uncle had yet to be properly laid to rest among his forebears, but he was determined to serve in every manner his people required. 

This involved taking guidance from his newly formed council, who seemed to believe that the first order of business was to reaffirm and restrengthen Rohan's alliance with Gondor. In the weeks that followed the great feast at Cormallen, Eomer spent more time with new acquaintances, lords and ladies from the noblest families of Gondor, than with his own men. His Éored, who had been the rock at his side for nearly the whole of the past year, were granted time to rest and convalesce according to their desires, and every one eagerly embraced the offered leave.

That included her, most painfully and noticeably. Each day that passed by filled with council meetings and formal dinners but nearly nothing of her, had dragged Eomer further into despair. When she finally reappeared for the coronation, dressed the way she was…small wonder that he finally lost hold on propriety the moment he touched her. 

In seemingly no time at all, they left it all behind. The high ramparts and looming towers of the grand city turned into a white speck on the mountainside. So far out north into the fields and away from the main road, they had separated themselves from the thousands that had flocked to the city to celebrate the coronation, and retreated into the peace of the vast plains that bore some semblance to their home. 

Eomer eased Firefoot into a relaxed pace and she followed suit. Afterward they were blanketed in silence but for the clink of tack and thud of hooves on the long grass finally regrown in the end of Pelennor’s strifes. 

One sideways glance showed Eomer that she remained resolved to look anywhere but in his direction. No matter. If she refused to look at him, he would gladly stare at her, and take his fill of what he had been deprived of for weeks. 

He had forgotten what a vision she made outside of armor, so long had they lived in battle gear. The gown she wore to the coronation ball had distracted him all evening, but it painted her beauty too foreign. The plain clothes of their people suited her best. On her, the wine-red dress underneath her green Rider’s cloak outstripped any fine silk confection. Her hair, usually held back in tight braids or trapped underneath a war helm, flowed in free waves that tumbled to her waist and made his fingers ache with longing. 

To see her in this manner reminded him of what Rohirrim sacrifice had achieved: the end to a life of constant peril, and in its place, domestic bliss. Eomer knew he would be wholly content to look upon her this way forever. And by Bema, by all the Valar that might hear, he prayed that she would let him. 

Another mile or two passed in the bleak silence before the skies gave him the opening he needed. The faint drizzle that had lazily harried them gradually intensified into a downpour, and the menacing grey clouds above rumbled a fair warning. 

Eomer pointed to a copse of beeches in the distance. “That should suffice for us to wait out the worst of it,” he said, and they directed their horses into the thicket. 

After releasing Firefoot and Greywind to find cover and graze at their leisure, they took their shelter underneath the tree with the most generous canopy. As Eomer watched her gather the cascade of her soaked hair over one shoulder, she happened to raise her eyes in his direction and catch his gaze. Her face remained impassive, but she did not look away again. She knew she could no longer delay what he had requested her company for. 

“May we speak now?”

The tense lines on her brow softened. “My lord,” she said, in a tone that was almost contrite. “I am here to listen to whatever you wish to say.”

“Good,” Eomer said, and needed one more breath to steady himself. “Good...” 

"Long has there been great camaraderie between us as comrades in arms, but in time that deepened into…more meaningful affection.” When she did not flinch at that attestation, he carried on. “After last night, it is clear that we must lay bare the extent of our feelings and finally be open with each other."

Her mouth trembled. “My lord--”

“I love you,” Eomer said. “I recognize no plainer truth than that. I am no bard or scholar, and so it is hard for me to describe what I feel for you...as it would be hard for anyone to explain the glory of the sun or the vastness of the skies. But you must know that it is love, nonetheless."

She remained silent at this, and her clenched jaw told him no response was forthcoming. But he had more. 

“These past years, Rohan’s protection occupied all of my waking thoughts. There was no time to consider ambitions for myself. And what need did I have for that, when the sole object of my desires rode in my company to every battle? But after all our years together, I suppose I began to take for granted that you would always be close by, even while I drowned in fear that one sword stroke could separate us forever."

He edged a step closer to her, driven by the mere suggestion of such unspeakable loss. 

“When you grew distant after Theodred's passing, I awoke to my folly. I wished to blame your withdrawal from me on your grief, but my jealous mind whispered that my long buried suspicions were confirmed, that you had always desired his devotion over mine. I wrestled with the torment from it, until last night, when you gave me reason to hope again.” 

“But..but I did not…y-you had never…” She cut off her own stammering and squared herself determinedly before continuing. “I never found sufficient cause to believe you could care for me so, my lord.” 

“The fault is mine for not being forthright with you from the start. I will do whatever I must to remedy that now.” Suddenly they were face to face on the same side of the tree, for she had not thought to dart away from his advances this time. “I would shout it from the very spire of their great Tower if it will end your doubts.” 

He reached for her, and the edge of his hand found her chin. Contrary to his bold declaration he repeated, barely above a whisper: “I love you.” 

“No,” she murmured back. “Please. You must not say such things.” 

“Why not, when it is the truth?”

“Because it is a truth you cannot act on.”

Eomer’s hand dropped to his side as he barked a humorless laugh. “Granted I have not held the role for very long, but that seems a peculiar thing to tell a King.”

“You are the King now, and that binds you to do things according to your duty, not according to your desire.” She lowered her head. “That is the truth that matters, my lord. Love cannot always prevail over everything.”

The familiar frustration marked with dread clawed at Eomer again. “My love for you will prevail over this,” he vowed. “Moreso because it is love returned.”

Only the sound of splattering rainfall followed, and the realization that she was starting to turn away.

“You… you do love me.”

“I do not.”

The ensuing crack of thunder paled against the shock her reply struck in Eomer. She slipped away from his side once more while he fumbled through his recollections of the previous night.

Drunk as he had been on the taste of her kisses, he could not have misunderstood her impassioned outburst. You are all I ever see, even when I do not wish to!  He had dissected that precious confession over and over in his head and basked in sweeter hope that he had ever dared to feel about anything.

“I will not accept that. I do not believe it!”

In a handful of strides he overtook her as she fled to the edge of the grove, where the trees stood further apart and exposed them to the deluge. 

“What is causing you to deny me? Deny yourself, deny us?!” She attempted to step around him, but Eomer blocked her progress relentlessly. “Is it that misguided belief of yours that I am, in your words, ‘taken’?” 

Finally she succumbed and stood in place, cold and drenched and as stock-still as a soldier holding the line. But Eomer found the answer clear on her grimace. 

"Do you mistake me for some bull that has been put on the market for the highest bidder? Or believe me so feeble that I have no control over my choice of wife?!"

She stiffened at his rising rebuke and shook her head. “Not just a wife, my lord. A Queen. You must choose the right woman to offer to Rohan as our long-awaited Queen.”

“Marry me and it is done.”

Immediately her eyes widened and her face blanched, as his bluntness finally plowed through her shields.  “Oh Eomer,” she breathed, and the return of his name on her lips nearly rendered him as dazed as she was. 

He moved to embrace her, but she clutched him by the forearms, guarding her space. He felt her fingers tremble as they dug into the fabric of his tunic sleeves. He thought he might have heard a sob, but in the rain it was impossible to discern the source of the drops slipping down her cheeks. 

“I know you are wiser than that,” she told him. “You know Rohan’s political realities, regardless of your distaste for them. Your rise to your uncle’s throne has separated us by a chasm that cannot be bridged.” She sensed his intention to interrupt and spoke even louder. “I am an orphaned stray, Eomer. Theodred’s favor may have rescued me from a life of insignificance, but I am still baseborn by anyone's standards. Yet however lowly I am, I can hold my head up with pride, because I have always known my place.”

“As do I.” Eomer slid his hand up the curve of her neck. “Your place is with me.”

“Yes it is.” Her smile was joyless as she gripped his wrist to keep his obvious desires at bay. “I belong at your side, on the open fields, with a sword in my hand, ready to give my life for you at a moment's notice. You gifted me with purpose, and riding in your company has brought me such honor. Please do not ask me to play a role where I will only fail and return to an object of derision.”

Eomer frowned. “I have only ever loved you. No one else is suitable for me to take to wife.”

She lifted those beautiful eyes to stare dead-evenly at him for the first time in months. “Dol Amroth,” she whispered. “The daughter of Prince Imrahil.”

The sadness in her eyes lifted the fog of ignorance that obfuscated him. He recognized that pain as the very same one that had pierced him each time he watched her in Theodred’s company. The way they smiled at each other, their intimate touches, their freely exchanged affection that made his stomach twist with envy. But he had been wrong in his interpretation of that situation, and so was she on this one. 

“What of her?” he said brusquely, pushing aside his full realization of what she was implying. 

“One does not have to sit at the council table to see the soundness of your match.”

“There is no match!”

“Then there will be and there should be!” she insisted. “Everyone sees it, and if you tell me you do not, then you have no right to accuse me of denying what is true.”

A low growl rumbled off Eomer and suddenly he was the one to swivel away, rubbing his face and rain-matted beard while he weighed his answer.

“I do not deny that overtures have been made by advisors, both mine and King Elessar's," he said finally. "Lothiriel does seem an obvious candidate to put forward as a consort for the King of Rohan. But that appropriateness has nothing to do with me. Had Theodred survived to stand in my place, they would be pushing her to him. Have I been counseled on the benefits of an alliance with Imrahil's house? Oh yes--with the subtlety of a hammer's blow. But I barely paid heed to that, since all that mattered to me was your opinion on the subject."

"My opinion," she echoed. She planted her hands on her hips and studied her muddied boots for a long moment. "I can offer you what I know. You, Eomer King, will be the greatest ruler the Mark has ever seen. Your rule deserves every opportunity it can claim, and this offer of an alliance with Dol Amroth is one you cannot dismiss. I have heard nothing but praise and approval at the prospect, from mouths both common and noble."

"Princess Lothiriel is young, and beautiful, and beloved. Her blood is of the most distinguished and most powerful house in Gondor. She will give you exactly what you need. What Rohan needs."

She suddenly came forward to cradle Eomer's face between her hands, a touch he had only experienced in dreams until then. Except this was more akin to his worst nightmare. His inner wretchedness must have become evident in his furrowed brow and was too pitiful to ignore. "Moreover she will adore you, if she has not fallen already, for no maiden has ever lived whose heart you cannot ensnare.”

“Do not flatter me in one breath only to spurn me in the next,” Eomer muttered. “I did not ask for you to wax poetic about my future with another woman. I want your thoughts about all that matters. Us.”

“Us?”

She tried to withdraw her hands, but Eomer caught them in time, and held them firm against his chest, as if it could make her feel how consumed his heart was by her. 

“Once I might have carried hope for us,” she said softly. “Hope that I could one day be enough, because I knew you cared for Rohan above all else and admired my dedication to our people. I thought perhaps in time, that admiration might grow to love, as mine did so quickly after I met you."

“But it did, it--”

Her hands jerked inside his grip, their next attempt at escape futile. “Any hope I had for us died with Theodred,” she said tersely. “When his charge as the King's heir passed on to you. Let it rest with him.”

The roll of receding thunder brought Eomer back to a distinct memory of that dreadful day at Isen. The raw anguish on her face as she looked up at him with Theodred's head on her lap. Her frightened reluctance at releasing the prince for Eomer to take on Firefoot. 

It had rained too when Eomer came to bring her the news of his passing not a day later. Ignoring the heavy downpour, she ran out to meet him as he approached her cottage, and broke down before he could get the words out. He had to lead her back inside and wrap her in a blanket before she caught a chill. She clung tightly to him as he held her for a long while, bewildered by her sobs. It was the only time he had ever seen her weep. 

Only then did it dawn on Eomer: it was not just the loss of Theodred that she had mourned. 

“Run away with me.” 

It burst from his lips without a thought. 

“Wh-What? No!” She yanked away from him with such force he was left grasping for empty air. 

“Come with me, and let us run away together.” He rushed after her as she strode toward their horses. She already knew his mind, but he also knew hers, and there was nothing left for him to employ to sway her to his thinking. Nothing but this brazen proposal. 

“Away to where?!” she cried, without bothering to look his way. She came up to Greywind and seized her saddle pommel, but Eomer’s hand closed around hers, stilling her progress. 

“Anywhere. Far enough to take you away from all this--” Eomer swung out his free arm in a gesture as wild as the fervor in his eyes. “Away from everything that is confusing you.”

She started shaking her head vigorously and backing away. “Eomer, no. You are mad!”

“Do not tell me that!” Eomer lurched forward in pursuit, yet knew better than to grab her. She could not lose him out here where there was nowhere to hide. But he would lose her if she shut him out again by refusing to listen. 

“Do not tell me I am mad when the only madness is you believing we do not deserve a future together!” Each time he blocked her path, she pivoted in another direction, and he immediately swerved to repeat the dance. “Madness is you rejecting a man who yearns for you more than a mortal heart could possibly bear, clinging to the barefaced lie that you do not feel exactly the same.”

At that, she fell still. In the stillness Eomer realized that the rainstorm had finally dissipated, and in studying her face, he noticed the drops that continued to slip from the edges of her closed eyes, gliding to her quivering jaw. 

“You know as well as I that we belong together.” He caught one of the tears with the edge of his thumb, smoothing his finger over her soft, flushed skin. “So let us take the road west and… and just keep riding. Let me take you home. Our people here will follow soon enough, and when they arrive we can meet them as man and wife.”

“Eomer,” she sighed, before falling silent, her eyes still shut. He hoped she would take her time finding ease, so she may really consider his offer. But she responded immediately, too quickly, once again. “We cannot just abandon our obligations.”

“You insist we cannot, but we can. You can do whatever you wish. You just need to decide what that is--"

“No! No, no, no…” The word morphed into whimpers on her lips, an effort to drown him out.

“--and that is all I ask. That you shut out thoughts of all else and answer truly, from your heart." Something in Eomer’s throat tightened, as though an invisible hand had seized his neck and threatened to choke him. He swallowed and persisted with all the courage he could muster. "Will you marry me?"

“No.”

“Please.” It tasted bitter on his tongue, for Eomer son of Eomund had never begged for anything in his life, even as it took the last shreds of pride for him not to fall on his knees in his final bid. “I am asking you for the truth. Your truth alone. Do you want me?”

Her eyes fluttered open, bearing the steely determination and battle strength that had won his respect years ago, and in that moment Eomer saw that that inner fire he loved would now crush him.

“No,” she answered. “I do not.”

To be continued in Part 3...

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[grandmother-goblin]

When Soap Isn't Enough

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: No matter how many times Astarion scrubbed himself down, he just couldn't feel clean. So he accepts Cas's offer to help him out.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags: Hair washing, references to past trauma, non-sexual nudity.

Astarion tilted his head back onto the lip of the bathtub and closed his eyes, enjoying the heat of the clean water and the soothing aroma of lavender scented bath oil. It was technically his second bath of the evening. The first one had been dedicated to ridding himself of so much filth he was surprised he was allowed through the doors of the Elfsong. The second was just for his own sanity.

As if traversing the sewers beneath Baldur’s Gate wasn’t bad enough, some lunatic had summoned an army of grease mephits and one thing led to another and… well, Gale blew them up. But not before one of them managed to slime Astarion head to toe. Blinded and covered in grease, the little bastard then shoved him into a puddle of sludge. But everyone was so concentrated on surviving the encounter, Astarion did not have time to feel embarrassed about his condition.

The only thing Cas could offer him on the long walk back to the Elfsong was a cloak and a few rags to wipe himself up. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was better than nothing and he appreciated the gesture.

He was also grateful that Cas had gotten them a separate room from the others. It meant that fewer people got to see him in such a state, and he enjoyed the privacy it afforded him and Cas for several reasons.

The space wasn’t very big. Beside the washroom, all their room had was a bed big enough for two and a dresser to keep their belongings. But it was cozy. Rich wood tones and warm lantern light gave the place a very homey feel. He kind of liked it.

Astarion splashed a bit of water on his face. No matter how many times he scrubbed himself down, he still felt the grease. It wasn’t there. He could see it wasn’t there. But, somehow, he still felt like he couldn’t get clean.

“Astarion?” Cas called from the outside the washroom, her voice just loud enough to hear through the thick wooden door. “Do you mind if I pop in for a second? I just want to grab my hairbrush. I promise I won’t look.”

He rolled his eyes. “Darling, you’ve already seen everything,” he said and picked up the bar of soap again. “The door’s unlocked.”

Cas slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. Though he really didn’t mind if she looked, she kept her eyes off of him. Instead, she made a beeline for the vanity and quickly found her hairbrush. “Are you starting to feel better?”

“Mostly,” he said and began to scrub his arm with soap again. “But I still feel like there’s grease everywhere. On my skin, under my fingernails, in my hair. I’m sitting in water and I’m still probably flammable.”

There was a soft snort of laughter. “Want to try washing with some vinegar?”

The suggestion made Astarion’s lip curl with disgust. “I’m trying to smell better, my love, not worse,” he said and started washing his other arm. “Though if you have any more of that lavender scented shampoo, I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“Of course,” Cas replied brightly and retrieved the bar of shampoo from her toiletry bag. “Do you have any interest in letting me wash your hair for you?”

Astarion’s brow drew together as his hand paused mid-scrub. “Wash my hair?” he repeated back dumbly. “Why?”

She shrugged. “It feels good and I want to,” she said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “No pressure. Just thought I would put the offer out there.”

“I— Why are you like this?” he asked, making her laugh again. “You know how I feel about you being too nice to me.”

It was a conversation they had countless times in a dozen different ways. The answer was always the same, but he still struggled to wrap his head around it. It was because she cared about him. She cared about him in a way that no one else ever had. With patience and respect, but willing to stand her ground with him when she needed to. Even if she flooded him with sweet gestures, they all came from the heart.

For Cas, one of the main ways she showed affection was through physical touch. Due to his complicated feelings towards sex and other such activities, they decided to have a more caste relationship for a while. Given how frequently they found themselves tangled in blankets during the early stages of their relationship, Astarion thought Cas would have some difficulty with the change.

But she didn’t.

It had been almost a month, and Cas never once tried to pressure him into anything more. Though there were a few instances where their kisses turned a little too heated, she never had a problem with pulling back. Never got upset with him for denying her the physical pleasure she so clearly craved.

Of course, Astarion didn’t hold it against her. She still had certain needs, and he was glad that she didn’t try to deny that for his sake. But he was also glad that she respected his wishes and didn’t try to guilt him over his decision.

Cas held out the bar of shampoo to him and said, “Up to you.”

“Fine,” he replied, sounding about as enthusiastic as a teenager who had been told to wash dishes. “Just try not to get soap in my eyes.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to get soap in your eyes,” she said as if he were being completely ridiculous. Then she pulled the stool in front of the vanity over to the tub and took a seat behind him. “Sit forward a bit so I don’t get water outside the tub.”

A little reluctantly, he did as he was told, letting his arm rest atop his bent knees as casually as he could. Yet, despite his outward demeanor, his stomach knotted and his throat tightened. He couldn’t quite place why.

Cas had seen him naked plenty of times between changing his clothes in front of her or when they went to bed together. So it wasn’t his nudity. 

Maybe it was just the position.

Naked, vulnerable, with his back presented to someone seated behind him. His teeth clenched as his fingers dug into his leg, hidden beneath the soapy water. He exhaled, but tried to make the sound seem bored or impatient instead of a calming exercise. It wasn’t Cazador, and there wasn’t a knife. It was Cas, and a fucking bar of soap.

He needed to pull himself together.

“Close your eyes for a second,” Cas said as she dipped a cup into the water.

As soon as he closed his eyes water cascaded over his hair and down his neck. It was warm and soothing. Then she poured another cup of water on him, slowly, until every bit of his hair was dripping wet. 

Ever so carefully, Cas ran her fingers through his hair and pulled it back away from his face. A little smile came to his lips. “How would you feel if I started slicking my hair back?”

“I have no opposition as long as you don’t use so much product that your hair looks crunchy.”

He furrowed his brow. “Crunchy?”

“Like Raphael’s.”

“His hair looks more greasy than anything.”

Cas hummed, sounding skeptical, and lathered up the bar of shampoo. “Take a closer look next time he slithers out of Hell. I bet if you touched it it would sound like a crumpled newspaper.”

“I’m not risking getting grease on myself again to find out what that devil’s hair sounds like,” he said, sounding indignant even as he wanted to smile.

It was funny how that worked. One second he was slipping back into one of his worst memories, and then the next Cas was making him want to laugh. It was so easy. It felt almost natural. That whenever he began to slip into darkness, she was always right there ready to direct him towards the light. Sometimes without trying at all.

Cas tilted his head back gently and began to work her soapy fingers through his hair. She started near his hairline, rubbing her fingertips in tiny circles as she worked her way over his scalp. It felt nice. Really nice.

Soon, Astarion found himself closing his eyes. The smell of lavender, the warm water of the bath, and a soothing massage relaxed the bundle of anxiety in his belly. Most of it, at least. Even though he knew in his heart that Cas wouldn’t take advantage of him, he couldn’t completely suppress that twinge of fear.

Part of him still expected Cas to push him. To trail her fingers down his chest, or to dip her hand beneath the water and tread even lower. Cas had never done something like that, and he didn’t think she ever would, but the worry lingered. That, somehow, this kind and sweet woman he knew was just a facade. That Cas was just like everyone else who wanted him just for his body.

Cas placed her hand just above his brow and said, “Keep your eyes closed.” Shielding his face the best she could, she washed away the shampoo. Between each rinse, she massaged his scalp and combed her fingers delicately through his hair. 

“I think I got all the grease out,” she said and dunked her hands in the water to remove the lingering suds on her skin. “I have a light oil for your hair if you’d like. It smells nice and it’ll make your hair soft and easy to comb.”

It sounded wonderful. Especially the thought of her fingers gliding through his hair again as he melted into her touch. But his stomach knotted, and he shook his head. “I think I’m alright, my love,” he said and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. “Thank you.”

If Cas was at all disappointed by his refusal, it didn’t show on her face. She just gave his hand a little squeeze. Then she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his damp forehead and said, “Any time.” 

With that, she dried her hands off on a towel hanging over the edge of the tub and put the stool back under the vanity. Then she picked up her hairbrush and started towards the door. “I’ll see you in a bit,” she said and gave him a smile before she left the room.

Astarion sighed once he heard the door click shut behind her. For reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he already regretted turning down her offer. If her shampooing his hair was anything to judge by, it would have been just as nice and relaxing. Maybe they could even talk about something else as ridiculous as what sound Raphael’s hair would make. Who knew? He certainly didn’t because he had let his fear get the better of him.

Yet Cas was patient and she didn’t seem to take it personally. There was just only so much touching he could handle before his train of thought ventured down a dark path. No matter how he tried to redirect it towards the light, he wasn’t always in control, and his mind went there anyway. As frustrating as it was, and though he knew he was safe (or as safe as he could be) with Cas, two centuries of conditioning didn’t go away overnight.

Still, he was getting better. Little by little. And Cas was there with him for every step of the way.

After he scrubbed his body down with soap one more time, he drained the tub and toweled off, finally feeling like all the grease was gone. His hair especially felt good. His hair was still a little damp when he changed into his pajamas. 

Cas had gotten the pajamas for him as a gift, and thought neither of them slept, they were soft and nice to lounge in while he did his trance. Just simple, loose, burgundy pants and a stretchy, long-sleeved, gray shirt. Nothing fancy, but he didn’t really need fancy so long as he was comfortable. 

When he exited the washroom, he found Cas lounging on the bed clad in her own pajamas, a pencil in hand as she jotted down something in her journal. She glanced up at him and gave him a soft smile. Like she was simply happy to see him. It still felt so strange, no matter how many times she gave him that look. “Feeling better?” she asked, closing her journal to give him her full attention.

The mattress dipped as Astarion sat beside her. He used the movement to tuck her against his side, his arm wrapped around her lithe frame and her head tucked under his chin. “Much better, darling,” he said and rolled onto his back and pulled her fully on top of him. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had someone wash my hair like that before”

She pushed up with her hands on either side of his head, relieving him of some of her weight. “How did you feel about it?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again,” he said as he let his hands wander from her ribcage, to her hips, down to lightly grip her upper thighs. “Perhaps, next time, you might join me in the tub.”

Cas smiled at him. “I don’t think we’d both fit.”

“Not with that attitude,” he said, earning himself a laugh because she was right. Even if the idea sounded nice, there was no way they could both fit comfortably. “I bet this place has a room with a bigger tub. They have to, right? For half-orcs or goliaths or other massive folk. Those would surely fit two little elves.”

She hummed. “If you want to ask the owner to switch rooms, be my guest,” she said, effectively putting the ball in his court. Leaving the decision up to him, with no real pressure one way or another. 

“I bet they’d have bigger beds too.” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and pulled her down for a kiss. Something chaste and sweet, and he could feel her smiling into it.

Gods. He might very well be in love with her.

“I’ll ask about it tomorrow,” he said. Despite his earlier nerves, it was something he still wanted to do. Especially with Cas. It might be good for him, he thought. Just a small way to be intimate with her that didn’t involve sex.

It would take more than just soap to wash away all of his complicated feelings towards intimacy. Perhaps, he would never be rid of it entirely. But it was a start.

That was something.

[mikailys]

MCL NewGen Ep 8 Commentary

Ik it's late and that several days have passed since the episode's release, but I wanted to wait a bit to let my thoughts simmer and write my review with a cool head. I need to rant about it so sit tight 'cause this one in particular is though lol.

As it was advertised, the whole episode revolves around Roy and a peculiar hobby of his: skinny dipping. Thomas is the one who spills the beans -as always- and everyone is curious about it. Roy explains that he only does it after the swimming pool closing hour and you know what: that is fine by me. Is it weird? Yes, but I'm not supposed to care what my co-workers do in their freetime so I personally don't mind.

And, unfortunately, that's all. To sum up, the plot is "co-workers try to go undercover to spy on their other coworker while he's skinny dipping :|

Since I don't like Roy, the premise of this ep didn't really appeal to me at all. But, weirdly enough, it had the opposite effect 'cause I've spent its whole duration feeling sorry for him. He gets the possibility once a month to train alone in a professional pool, and the six of us -which I recall you are his co-workers and his boss- have nothing better to do than to go spying on him? Just because they thought he subtly implied he wanted them to come see him?!

One. It is false since during the whole workday they kept "catcalling" him and joking about it and he wasn't really pleased to say the least. He put on a brave face, endured the working hours, and then left the office asap.

Two. You're adults, fully grown adults that are acting like literally teens. It's not normal for grown-ups to feel excited, see Elenda and Thomas, to play spies to see your co-worker naked. It is weird and creepy.

I'm glad at least I wasn't the only sane person to comprehend this was wrong and absurd on so many levels. Paradoxically enough, the only one I found myself agreeing with was Amanda, a character I couldn't stand until now, she gained a tons of points in my eyes + she's also a girl's girlie so gg.

Also, special mention to the hint of peer pressure put on Candy and Amanda by the quartet. I didn't like it at all and it shouldn't be even a thing considering the context.

No is no, even if Roy supposedly enjoys voyeurism, I personally do not.

This is really a shame cause they butchered so many characters with this unnecessary sketch, Thomas being the worst of them in my eyes. I'm not sure if my perception of him was wrong from the start, but I don't recognize this character at all. Silly jokes, creepy hobbies, and an immature, teenage-like attitude were never traits I would have attributed to him. I know I keep repeating myself but it's truly a shame that such poor writing has impacted the perception and development of the characters, which now seems clearly different from how they were portrayed in the beginning...

Going forward, I made then the choice to leave with Amanda and warn Roy about their ambush. It was nice to have that option tbh. The whole scene afterwards, sneaking into the public pool and hiding in the lockers, was utterly embarrassing because it’s not the kind of behavior you’d expect from people in their late twenties, but whatever the problem it's the whole context so I can't complain about it too much.

Then Roy catches the sextet and pulls off his counter-prank. After snitching on us, we all decided it was a good time to play with water guns. Again, the idea was fun and silly in a good way, but context-wise mmh...

Now the long-awaited moment I've been patiently waiting for: the encounter with Jason.

Look at him I love him sm nsgsg

I had no idea how they would include him in the episode since he practically had nothing to do with the Devenemential gang. And honestly -unpopular opinion- they probably should have left him out of this messy episode because the reason they gave for his involvement didn’t fully convince me, and the special scene was disappointing.

Apparently, he also has deals with the guards -worst security protocol ever if you ask me- and he goes there once a week to train. And here I was thinking that the CEO of a famous and well-known company would have a private pool or the means to rent one lol. Looks like everyone's feeling the pinch these days. Good job Jason, saving money like the rest of us poor unfortunate souls, such a relatable boss.

Fun fact, it appears one of his dreams is to defeat Roy? In a swimming competition?? Like, okay? I'll gladly be there to root for you the day you actually succeed then dear.

Well maybe not everyone shares the same hobbies as you and Roy, Candy. Besides, why would he know about Roy's interests?? He's not as deranged as Thomas, who keeps tabs on his colleagues' private lives...

ANYWAY. Candy feels cold and needs to get out of the pool if she doesn’t want to catch pneumonia. Jason offers to help her by closing his eyes, but she’s not fully convinced. Again, NOT EVERYONE IS A PERV, CANDY. You're just the unlucky girl who's got to work with them. In fact you should bring him to Devenemential to have him teach your colleagues the art of not being crazy maniacs, I'm sure that could be of help.

I won't spend too many words on the next scene since I've already made a whole ass post ranting about it and sharing my headcanon. However, regarding the mistress scene, I will say that yes, it was poorly executed. But if the entire episode had followed this direction I would have gladly signed off on it because, all things considered, it’s not even remotely comparable to the plot we've endured so far.

Now for the special scene I am conflicted. Ngl I really thought for a split second that we actually managed to kiss him, but I quickly snapped back to reality when I realized it was just Candy being delusional and I am just as much as her. She must have ingested way too much chlorine to be having such a mental trip lol. Anyway, I didn't like it very much because it was clear that BV didn't know what to come up with. The fact that they managed to incorporate Jason into the plot was something, but asking for a well-written special scene was apparently too much.

On a side note, I’m DEAD TIRED of having to endure the worst humiliations in every single episode when we’re on Jason’s route. It's pretty embarrassing, and, at lest for me, it’s not easy to move forward without cringing every few minutes. Moreover, it always seems like he has to have the upper hand in every situation. When is our Candy going to stop acting like a fool and step up her game??

And that's all, the episode ends with Candy leaving the pool, wondering if she and Jason will ever stop meeting in the most weird way spoiler: you won't i assure you.

Now for the next episode I fear we’re in for another ‘fun’ plot since it’s called A Child at Heart, but honestly I have no idea what these interns will actually get up to. Maybe the theme will revolve around generational differences, since they seem to be Gen Z while our colleagues are more on the border of being Millennials? Idk but I do really hope the writing will be better than in this ep.

All things considered, I still have faith in BV. I know they have the ability to write a good story with a solid foundation when they want to—it’s just that I don’t know what’s happening with this series in particular. As other players have pointed out, it feels like this plot was originally conceived when NG was still set in a high school, and now they’re trying to repurpose it in a more 'adult' way. The problem is, it’s just not working.

The Halloween event is approaching, and let’s hope it can alleviate some of the discontent in the community. Hopefully the upcoming episodes will be better since they’ve addressed the topic in the forums but we'll see.

[notfernintheslighest]

Rewatching Teen Titians Go! To The Movies again (i watched it 3 days ago) and this is literally DC’s Deadpool and Wolverine (and it came out first) so I’m gonna compare them while spoiling Deadpool and Wolverine the least amount possible

The “obscure” character references:

•Challengers of the Unknown

•The Atom

•“That is where the Animaniacs live” (not DC but still Warner Brothers sort of like Marvel and Disney)

•Literally almost everyone in the background of the movie theater scenes

Poking fun at their old movies:

“There was a Green Lantern movie, but we don’t talk about that one”

“My mommy’s name is Martha too”

“Shooting a baby into space what kind of people are you?” “You are the terrible parents!” (referring to superman’s biofamily) + Krypton being saved with EDM

“Golly thanks for taking me to the movies in this dangerous neighborhood, Dad” (Batman’s parents died in crime alley)

The themes of found family

•It’s repeated several times that without Robin, Beastboy would live in a dumpster, Starfire would have to fight in alien gladiator battles, Raven would have to enslave entire planets with her dad and Cyborg would have to play professional football (which he dislikes)

Referring to their characters as characters from the Marvel

“He should be saying he’s not me, I came out like way before him.” “Nah, I’m pretty sure you’re Deadpool.” (this is a whole scene btw and Slade’s intro)

Breaking the fourth wall:

•”Look into the camera and say something inappropriate” (again when calling Deathstroke Deadpool)

•”The prefect plot device”

•Stan Lee’s cameos

•”KIDS! ASK YOUR PARENTS WHERE BABIES COME FROM”

The Meta dancing/songs

•”You need a Upbeat Inspirational Song About Life”

•My Superhero Movie

•Previously mentioned EDM music

🚨🔔 ACTUAL SPOILERS FOR DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE BELOW BEWARE!!! 🔔🚨

The meta narratives are the main similarity however, in Deadpool and Wolverine the whole “anchor being” thing is just a joke about how Fox’s media company literally died because Hugh Jackman was no longer there to bring them in the big bucks. In Teen Titans Go! To The Movies the narrative is all about the Teen Titians (Go!) characters being too unserious to get a movie, a real complaint people have had since the inception of their show.

Plus Robin and Deadpool both have abandonment issues and low self worth, Robin has a weird Lion King dream where Batman drops him off a building after other superhero’s disapprove of Robin. Deadpool secretly worries that Vanessa doesn’t love him or something???

Also both have the two main villains turn out to be in cahoots in some way, in Deadpool it’s revealed that she works for the TVA, and in Teen Titians Go! To The Movies Slade and Jade Wilson are the same person

[iluffyouxo]

𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎

╰┈➤ 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚡𝚘𝚗 𓆩♡𓆪

If I had stayed quiet longer, would you still have waited for me?

⋰⋰⋰⋰⋰

He caught her arm as she began to walk away. His eyes were pleading, but she quickly snatched her arm out of his steely grip. “No, Daryl. I can’t…you don’t get to look at me that way.”

What had he done so wrong to deserve a statement such as that? Daryl truly could not pinpoint where Bishop’s anguish stemmed from.

“An’ you don’ get to walk away,” his voice was strained, tight from the fear of crying.

Bishop turned to him, her stare cold as she gave an incredulous expression. “Can’t I? You’ve been running away for as long as I’ve known you.” Her voice was composed and tone full of poise; Glenn had taught Daryl long ago that his sister’s calmness was one to fear in these circumstances.

Daryl gulped thickly, “I have no idea what yer talkin’ ‘bout.” The lie seemed to escape him before he could fully comprehend his words.

He blinks stupidly. Bishop scoffs, “Are you serious?” Her laugh was scathing.

He was bewildered within her amusement—what exactly had been so funny? Bishop was quick to throw on her boots (she was beginning to grow jaded of the topic). She had to leave, get out and take a turn about the prison. She felt that if this conversation prolonged, the entire prison will hear them.

“Why did I think this would work…?” She questioned, herself mostly, as she walked towards the covered entrance of her cell. “I have to go.”

If Bishop seemed as if she could leave barefoot earlier, then now—with her shoes on—there was nothing stopping her from abandoning him. This would be his one and only chance to make up for his indifference (lest he wish for the treatment he’s bestowed upon her all this time).

“Bishop, ’m sorry. Please. I’m beggin’ you.”

She shook her head. This was becoming a bit too ridiculous. Especially for the end of the world. Duchess-Bishop Rhee pining after a man when she couldn’t even find something proper to eat that wasn’t spoiled or already tampered with. To say she was emotionally exhausted was a severe understatement.

“You’re only speaking like this now because of Glenn and Maggie.” He stayed quiet. Her words were true after all. Daryl couldn’t—or rather shouldn’t—argue the obvious.

Why had it taken her brother and his “wife” to get kidnapped by the Governor for Daryl to finally accept his feelings towards Bishop? “I’m pathetic.”

She still stood close to the doorway, a curt nod her only response. She was still ready to leave when the moment called for an immediate distance from him. For now the silent treatment didn’t seem completely necessary. However, her back still faced him. Daryl couldn’t tell what she was thinking as he continued.

“I’m pathetic,” he repeated. “I’m an idiot. I’m an asshole. I’m everythin’ yer thinkin’ right now.” He took a few steps forward, stepping light as to not startle her away. “I’ll be every bad guy in the book to ya, if only to make up for it.”

Bishop froze, having been lost in her own thoughts, Daryl’s words a hushed buzz in the back of her mind, and she looked up at the sound of footsteps closing in. She held her breath as she saw Rick carrying baby Judith through the almost sheer fabric of her black and red curtains. “I dunno what you are to me right now,” she finally managed to say once she felt Rick was out of earshot.

Daryl’s heart pounded loudly at her words (and he was damn certain she could hear it, too).

In his old life before the pandemic—before Bishop—Daryl was about the most unlovable asshole this side of the Chattahoochee River. Even Merle would get laid every now and again. But Daryl? He had only ever had a few kisses throughout his teens, and the girls would always regret it right afterwards.

Daryl had spent countless nights wondering if it was worth ignoring the obvious mutual affection between the two of them. Going mad over what exactly the most perfect woman he had ever met saw in an alley redneck like him.

He was truly confused about the attraction, and it caused him to withdraw, to become cold and distant.

Now he understood the consequences of his reaction. “‘M sorry I hurt you; I didn’ mean for it to affect ya like that. I was bein’ selfish.” Daryl didn’t want to lose her all because he couldn’t get it together.

Bishop finally turned to him, a small smile playing at her lips. “I know the world is fucked up right now. And if I lost you…I might lose my mind—“ Bishop gulped down her nerves, “—but I wanna try this with you. Right now.” She shrugs, holding back hot tears that threatened to fall and swayed in her eyes, “I like you Daryl. Quite a lot, actually.”

And, with teary eyes, she pulls him into a hug. “I won’t fault you for saying no. Just know that the offer still stands…and probably will for a long time.”

Before Daryl could react she’s pulled away and headed outside again, this time with a lighter air about her. “You’ll always get your way with me, Daryl Dixon.” A soft chuckle bounces throughout the room as Bishop finally leaves. Daryl is left to wonder once again how he ended up so lucky.

And left to ponder on the perfect way to ask the most perfect girl out.

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds: Chapter Twelve

Din Djarin x F!Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Summary: When filming overruns and conspires to keep Din from the fun weekend he planned for you, he agonises over his decision. Fortunately, he manages to salvage the weekend, even after a calamity involving a rowboat...

Word Count: 13k ❁ Rating: Teen ❁ Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, suggestive language. ❁ Author's Note: This is a very long one but I regret nothing, and I just reached 100k for this fic! Quite a milestone and I still feel nowhere near done, really. I get slightly carried away writing these two but I cannot resist. They're so cute, and writing their love fills me with so much joy! Thanks to @decembermidnight for being my beta. I appreciate your help amo!

12. The Calm [Din's POV]

Din tapped his brown boot anxiously against the carpeted floor of his room at the studios. He watched helplessly as the minutes ticked by on the large white clock that hung over the door, powerless to do anything but sit there as the original time he had arranged to meet you ticked by. The new time he had set came and went. Then, the time after that, too. 

The Friday evening that Din had planned and the one which was unfolding before him were worlds apart from what he had originally intended.

 First, Din planned to meet you after work and take you to the hotel he had booked. In a break from tradition, this time he had made the reservation under his name. Din had taken the precaution to avoid a repeat of the situation when a bottle of champagne had been delivered with Jim’s name emblazoned across it. After that, Din had planned an entire weekend of fun for the two of you. There would be some sightseeing and good food enjoyed by both of you. It would be the break both of you needed.

Din had even taken the luxurious step of booking a second suite for Grogu and Kuiil so that the two of you could enjoy some privacy in your room. After checking in, if you two could keep your hands off each other long enough to head out, Din had planned to take you for dinner. It was nowhere too pretentious but just something to help you wind down after a difficult week with some good food. Then he had booked a tour of London for the following day for him and Grogu and you, before an evening in the spa. Din hoped that it would be the exact treat you needed, given how hectic you had told him work was. Alas, it seemed that the universe had other ideas.

Now, Din was trapped at the studios, while you had finished work with no one to greet you. Din felt terrible. He knew how much you had been looking forward to seeing him. Even though it was far beyond his control, he still felt guilty. Din hated when plans were not kept to and schedules not followed. The uncertainty was by far the most distressing part of it all.

Din’s foul mood was not helped by the fact that it had been a particularly stressful day on set. One of those days when nothing was going smoothly and every shot seemed to be wrong. The most frustrating thing was that it was not one individual’s fault. Din Djarin was not the kind of man to lash out at people, his fury simmered deep below the surface. Yet, at least if there was someone for him to silently fume at, it may have distracted his agitated mind from the rage that bubbled within him.

The problems on set were not caused by a case of incompetence, of people not doing their jobs properly. The scenes were taking much longer to film than expected due to the intricate set. With so many components, it took so long to rearrange between takes and  the cast and crew had to do a lot of waiting around. After each take, involving several stunts as Mando was tasked with fighting off a horde of enemies, the entire set was practically destroyed. It was a thoroughly frustrating process for all involved.

The hours that Din was required to be present on set had kept extending further throughout the day and now they were eating into precious time with you, a thoroughly unacceptable outcome. 

While Din was frustrated that he was letting you down, he was downright devastated about the impact such a turn of events was surely having on Grogu. Din knew that his son was safe and being cared for at home with Kuiil, which was a relief. Yet, the separation anxiety that he felt when he was away from his boy was something that he had never managed to get comfortable with. Being away from Grogu caused Din to feel tremendously guilty 

The only small comfort came from knowing that Grogu was with Kuiil, there was no one else – bar you, perhaps – that Din would trust more with his son.

Din was also relieved to know, courtesy of a picture you had sent him showing you in the hot tub, that you had successfully checked into the rooms at the hotel that he had booked. It was nice to know that the amenities weren’t going to waste, at least.

Yet, the selfie had caused Din further anguish, in a very different sense. Seeing the warm expanse of your skin, tantalisingly bare in the selfie, which revealed enough without being downright explicit, was causing his frustration levels to grow. How unfair that he was stuck here, while you looked so beautiful and all alone in that suite. Din was just grateful for how understanding and patient you were with him. Still, it didn’t give him bountiful new reserves of patience.

Din was irritable and lonely. The extended hours were miserable when he couldn’t even hang around with the rest of the cast without constantly fearing that his cover was to be blown. Peli was not required for this episode and Din missed his best friend. Din was alone with his thoughts as he frantically paced his room, waiting for a runner to fetch him when things were set up for the next take.

The knock on the door however does not herald the news that Din was hoping for, as an apologetic crew member informs Din that they were calling it a night and everyone would be required to return to set the following morning. Despite how frustrated he is, Din does not take it out on the young man who appears incredibly apologetic at the inconvenience. He knew that the crew member must have pulled the short straw to have to confront a fully armoured Mandalorian with such news.

As Din finally took a seat in the car that would drive him the short distance to his home, he was tired and irritated. Although he was careful not to take it out on the driver, Din is frustrated that he had spent hours longer away from Grogu than he had wanted, that he was forced into cancelled plans with you and even after both of those things, he had been told that he would have to return the following day. Not having anyone to blame it made it even worse. There was no one to silently seethe at and curse for their incompetence.

When Din eventually returned to his cottage it was almost midnight. After relieving Kuiil of his duties, Din wasted no time and immediately headed upstairs to his son’s room. Despite the old man’s reassurances that Grogu had gone to sleep without a hitch, Din knew that he would not be able to sleep without seeing that his boy was okay. It was a force of habit, a nervous question that needed answering. 

Fortunately, when Din peeked around the doorframe, he was greeted with the soothing sight of his son sleeping peacefully. Grogu’s breaths were even, indicating that he was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that his father was experiencing. Din could not resist making sure that Grogu was tucked in and comfortable, kissing his son’s head carefully before he headed for a few fitful hours of rest himself.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Despite beginning the morning in as optimistic a mood as he could muster, Din soon discovered that the next day on set would run no smoother than the last. 

He had returned to set what felt like only minutes after he had left. The cast and crew were being pushed to their limits of endurance, hardly having any rest between arduous days of filming. Unfortunately, such a demanding schedule was necessary due to the tight deadline that was looming over them from the executives who were near-unanimously despised by practically everyone on set.

The fact that their well-being was shunned in favour of satisfying goals and targets set mostly by people who had never stepped foot on a set in their entire lives was a fact that irritated Din. It made him rue the day he had ever decided to work for such a mega-corporation. But he had. He was here now. That fact could not be helped. 

Fortunately, Din believed that the weekend was still salvageable. If the shoot was concluded in the middle of the afternoon, there would still be time for him to join you for a portion of the tour and then dinner. He thought it was pointless to ruin Grogu and Kuiil’s weekend too, so the two of them had left to join you that morning. Din was relieved to know that you were not completely alone. The selfie you had sent him confirming their arrival had certainly buoyed Din’s spirits.

After lunch, Din returned to the set, optimistic that the stars would align and he would be able to join you as quickly as he wanted to. 

Unfortunately, those hopes were soon scuppered. The shoot was just not moving as quickly as it should have been. With the way things were progressing, there was no way Din would be able to make it to the hotel before the evening. 

With his tail between his legs after the latest disastrous take, Din retreated to his room. Once he had secured the door, he pulled his phone out to call you, his heart aching as he did so.

“Hi, Sunflower,” Din said, as soon as you answered.

“Hi, Din,” you cheerily responded.

Din felt terrible at the excitement that was palpable in your voice. After all, he had texted you that morning and said that he would ring you when he had news. Judging by the tone of your voice, you assumed it was good news. Unfortunately, you were about to be bitterly disappointed. Din braced himself for the news he had to impart to you.

“I’m so sorry about this but it looks like I’m going to be held up at work even longer than I was hoping. Looks like I might be able to join you at around eight if things go well, but no guarantees. I hate to let you down,” Din sighed, his voice cracking with guilt.

The heavy sigh Din heard down the phone made him feel even more anguished. He knew that you hoped just as much as he did that things would go differently today. Instead here he was, letting you down again.

“It’s okay, Din,” you said quietly, “I know it isn’t your fault. It seems like your job is unpredictable, I know you would be with me if you could be.”

“Thank you for being so understanding,” Din said, gratefully.

“Don’t worry, honey. I understand. Work is work, these things happen,” you said sympathetically.

Din knew you didn’t understand, that was the entire problem. It made him feel so much worse about the entire situation. He knew that if he had just been honest and told you the truth that day when he had planned to, there was a chance you could have journeyed to his cottage to await his return with Grogu. Instead, due to Din’s cowardice, there you both were; miserable and missing each other when you were both in the same city. It was all so needlessly painful.

Still, Din knew that you had Kuiil and Grogu with you at least. It went some way to soothing his anguish.

“Besides, I have Grogu and Kuiil here for company now,” you added brightly, “We’re heading out on a tour shortly.”

“Sounds wonderful, Sunflower,” Din smiled, “I wish I could join you.”

“I wish you could too, Din,” you sighed. “I can’t wait to see you. I really hope you can be here tonight, I was so lonely in this big hot tub. It’s far too big for one person,” you add flirtatiously.

“Ugh, don’t, Sunflower,” Din murmured warningly. “If it was under my control I’d be there in an instant,” Din rasped, his voice suddenly husky with want.

“I know you would be, Din. We’ll be together soon,” you reassured him. With your sweet voice reassuring him, Din almost dares to believe it himself. 

Unfortunately, before his conversation with you can continue in any more optimistic terms, there is a knock at the door. Duty calls as Mando is required on set.

“Got to go, a colleague is calling me. I’ll see you soon, Sunflower,” Din said, repeating your reassuring words to you, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Din. Bye,” you reply.

Din sat there for a few seconds after hanging up. While he still felt awful about letting you down, he would never tire of hearing you tell him that you loved him. It went some way to soothing his anguished state of mind. Yet there was another part of him that felt intensely guilty for his failure, to be honest with you. 

Despite your words suggesting otherwise, the pain in your voice as you reassured him that it was fine made Din feel awful. Even worse than that was the bright way you had reassured him that you understood how unpredictable his job could be. Your innocence broke his heart. 

Even more so because Din knew how much you had been looking forward to a little getaway with him. You had texted him many times that week, complaining about how stressful work was for you. It seemed that the final rush before the summer holidays ended had brought all kinds of families and their children to the museums. Din had consoled you as you complained to him about how you were expected to provide information and be personable to them all, despite how difficult they could sometimes be. It sounded far more draining than his job. Although doing stunts for a Hollywood production was physically demanding and required a lot of fitness, Din did not have to be personable. He could hide his face. Those two things were enormously important for him. If he had to face the world as you did, he was sure that he would not last a day. 

Din replaced his helmet and headed back out onto the set. He pushed his shoulders back and transformed into a stoic Mandalorian warrior, rather than the anxious, frustrated man he was beneath all of the beskar… 

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

It was almost entirely dark by the time Din was finally heading towards central London. Towards you.

Knowing that it would not be long until the two of you were reunited was causing little bubbles of excitement to spread throughout Din’s stomach. He could not wait to spend what remained of the weekend alongside you and was practically giddy with excitement. 

Of course, Din enjoyed the domestic bliss whenever you visited his cottage in Nevarro. It was homely and comfortable. Yet he loved the thought of booking a luxurious room for the pair of you in one of the most exclusive hotels in London just as much. When Din had initially moved to London, he felt self-conscious and uneasy that such luxuries were at his disposal. However, since he had started dating you, he had become more grateful for such extravagances.

Din had always relished being a provider. Whether that be for his covert of Mandalorians or his son. Now he had someone else to provide for: his Sunflower. 

He loved to take care of you at the weekend, after a long week of work. It went some way to alleviating the guilt that he felt at being paid many times more than your salary to do something that was, on the surface, a lot less demanding than the job you did. 

Although the stunts Din was required to perform could be physically demanding on occasion, it was nothing compared to some of the arduous jobs he had had in the real world. It was all scripted and risks were assessed before the cameras ever began rolling. Since he had started his role as The Mandalorian, Din had been pampered in a way that was unusual to him, unfamiliar. Din had never been luxuriated in his entire life. It took some getting used to, to know that there were so many things such as the opulent hotel he had booked for the two of you that was available to him on only a moment’s notice. 

It was an enormous contrast from the simple, solitary existence he had led for most of his life. Yet Din was becoming more used to this life and the luxuries that were on offer to him. As the hotel came into view through the window, Din found himself looking forward to a relaxing weekend there as much as he was looking forward to seeing you again. 

All of the amenities were tantalising, especially when Din was so exhausted. He had been looking forward to this break all week, knowing that it would provide the rest and recuperation he so badly needed. The endless hours on set had proved incredibly stressful, Not just due to the scenes he was filming and the stunts he was required to do, but also the fact he had to be separated from Grogu for so many hours per day. So Din needed this break just as much as badly as he knew you did. He needed the time with his son and the opportunity to recuperate after filming for the final episode had been so intense. The stunts and physical acting were taking it out of him, though Din would certainly prefer that to the numerous children that he knew you had to deal with every week. 

He couldn’t wait to take advantage of the spa and room service. Din knew that if you wanted to, neither of you would have to move a muscle for the entire weekend. Well, apart from the muscles Din knew that he would use in pursuit of your pleasure. 

It would be utterly blissful, especially because Grogu and Kuiil would have their own space while Din enjoyed your company in the privacy of your room. Staying in this hotel was the escape from real life that Din relished. It was something that he did not feel anywhere else. Whenever you visited his cottage out in the country the times spent together were a blissful sense of domesticity that Din did not feel like he deserved. Still, it was preferable to spending time in your flat, a place where Din had never felt comfortable. Not due to its size or simplicity but because of the poster that adorned the walls. 

So, to be granted an opportunity to escape your normal lives and just enjoy each other’s company here was a luxury that Din was immensely grateful for.

After exiting the car, Din practically sprinted through the hotel towards you. He could not wait to be back with you again. Gone were the times when he would stress about exposing his identity when he gave his name at check-in. You were waiting for him upstairs.

Now, nothing was stopping Din from being back with you again once again. 

He smiled at the thought that he was only moments away from seeing you again and taking you in his arms. It would have been even sooner if the elevator would hurry up and arrive. Din tapped his foot frustratedly on the polished marble floor as he waited for it to arrive in the lobby with a ding.

When it finally did, he did not waste a second before he hastily entered and pressed the number of the floor you were staying in. His heart thundered as he made his way through the corridor, towards your room. Din feared it might well beat out of his chest as he stood there after rapping on the dark wooden door, waiting for you to answer.

Thankfully, you got the door pretty rapidly. When it finally swung open, there were a few seconds where Din stood unmoving, staring at you with his mouth agape in disbelief that you were finally back together. It was an expression that was mirrored on your face.

Then, he finally broke free of his trance and stepped forward to envelop you in a tight hug. Din could barely believe that you were in his arms again. He resented the fact that it had taken so long for you to be reunited. All the days of pain faded away, however, as Din gathered you close to him. He struggled to find words to express his emotions.

Fortunately, you spoke first.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered into Din’s shoulder, where you had tucked your head into the crook of his neck. He smiled as he felt your voice reverberating there, a reminder that this was real. 

“I’m here now, Sunflower,” Din replied, his deep voice muffled into your hair, “I’m so sorry it took me so long.”

At that, you pulled away. Din saw how much love was there in your eyes that it floored him all over again. He wasn’t sure how he ever found someone to love him so much. All he knew was that your presence in his life had made him painfully aware of the fact that he had been missing something for so long. 

He felt as though he had been sleepwalking through life. Existing rather than living, in the weeks it had been since he last saw you. Now you were back together, that difference was acutely obvious to him. Din closed the distance and claimed your lips with his, attempting to convey what he could not yet find with his words. He roamed his hands across the warm expanse of your back, before grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.

There was no doubt that things would have escalated further, were it not for the sudden presence of a certain child.

Din first heard Kuiil shouting at Grogu to come back and pulled away from you regretfully. Any feelings of disappointment were soon eclipsed by the relief he felt to once again be back with his son. 

It had not even been an entire day since Din had parted ways with Grogu, but he missed his boy so much that he was so relieved to be back with him. The irrational fear that Grogu would think he was abandoning him had been gnawing at him all day. Coupled with the frustration of being stuck behind at the studios, it was an unpleasant combination.

Thankfully, Grogu seemed to be as cheerful as ever. He appeared to be in good spirits, which was unsurprising after the day he had spent with his two favourite people. 

Din picked his son up and walked over to the sofa, placing him on his lap and doting on the little boy whom he had missed so much.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Although Din had every intention of quickly leaving the hotel again, after dumping his belongings and making sure that Grogu was settled, his plans soon fell by the wayside. Din had intended to take you out for a meal after the tour he had planned for you as part. Nothing fancy, but it was a Saturday night and he wanted to make the occasion feel special. 

However, after Din exited the bathroom to see you lounging on the bed, you looked so relaxed and almost sleepy in the suite, he was happy to instead spend the rest of the evening in your spacious suite.

After all, it had been such a draining week for the pair of you. You deserved a relaxing evening. So, Din’s dinner plans were soon forgotten. 

“I was planning to take you out for a nice dinner somewhere to spend some time just the two of us,” Din explained, “But I was thinking, since Kuiil is here and the food here in the hotel is so incredible… how about we just order room service?”

The way your eyes lit up proved to Din that it was a wise decision. The way you leapt off the bed and threw your arms around him and voiced your agreement only confirmed that. You seemed instantly relieved that Din was thinking along the same lines as you. Din wanted to show you again that there was never any pressure between the two of you to the expectations of what constitutes a ‘proper’ date. It was something that had defined your relationship ever since that evening when Din had tried to take you out to a fancy restaurant and instead, both of you had ended up in the noodle shop. Merely spending time with you was all Din needed to feel happy. Any time with you was incredibly precious to him.

After you and Din had finally made up your minds and ordered something from the extensive room service menu, Din went to check how Kuiil and Grogu were and inform them of his plans. He wanted to give you some space while you changed into some more comfortable clothes, but he was also eager to check on how Grogu was.

Din could not help but feel guilty for leaving Grogu for much of the day and how he would again tonight, even though he knew the boy was happy with the old man and Din would only be next door. Kuiil was as close to family as Grogu and Din had. A kindly old grandfather figure that they could always depend on for comfort and companionship. Din felt a lump in his throat as he hovered at the door, watching the two of them interact. 

Kuiil had Grogu sitting on his lap, facing him. The old man was regaling him with tales from his childhood in his distinctive gruff voice. Watching the pair of them gave Din a familiar sensation of how he felt whenever he saw you interact with Grogu. The warm, tight feeling in his chest at the achingly familiality of it. 

Family was a difficult subject for Din Djarin. 

There was the family Din had lost when he was young and had never truly got to know. There was the family he had found with Mandalorians and the golden-haired woman who was the leader of his tribe. Then, of course, there was the little boy whom he had been unable to resist when he had seen him bundled beneath that threadbare blanket in the dismal attic. 

Din had decided to rescue Grogu instinctively. Without much thought or planning, which was unlike a man who ordinarily prided himself on his meticulousness. 

The abruptness of such a life-altering decision meant that Din sometimes doubted whether he was the right person to take care of Grogu, or whether Grogu deserved someone better. Din frequently felt woefully ill-equipped to deal with a toddler, especially one with as many needs as Grogu.

His love for the little boy won out every time. 

Their connection was too great for Din to ever give up. He knew that he was not a perfect father, but he was determined to be the best one he possibly could be.

As he hovered in the doorway and took a brief moment to appreciate the fruits of his labour, and Kuiil’s labour, reflecting on how much progress Grogu had made, Din felt humbled by how precious fatherhood was.

When Grogu noticed his father standing there watching him, his big brown eyes lighting up when he laid eyes on the man who had saved him, Din’s chest swelled with pride. 

It was these precious moments that made Din realise that he could do it; he was a capable father to Grogu. 

He thought back to the first days onset, when he had arrived there terrified with his boy in tow. How Peli would scold him, telling him that he had an awful lot to learn about raising a young one after she caught Din not warming Grogu's baby food properly. The curly-haired woman had not been impressed. Din had been mortified. He hadn’t expected to see her just storm into his trailer like that. Those days seemed like distant memories now, but they were an important part of what had made Din the attentive father he eventually became.

Finally, Din moved from the doorway and joined Kuiil on the couch. He listened intently to the end of the story that the elderly man was telling his son in his characteristic breathy tone. Din had always admired the elderly man for the way he spoke to Grogu as though he were a real person, not just a cute baby. 

“Everything okay, Mr Djarin?” Kuiil asked and Din shook his head slightly at the old man’s insistence on referring to him by a title. 

“We’ve decided to stay here for dinner. I ordered something for Grogu and yourself and I thought we could eat together?” Din asked.

“Thank you, that sounds wonderful,” Kuiil smiled appreciatively. “I know this one has had a long day. I should imagine he'll soon go to sleep after he’s eaten and bathed.”

“Wonderful,” Din nodded.

Before the conversation could continue any further, the sound of the door opening tore Din’s attention away from Kuiil and his son. 

Din was mesmerised by the sight of you, his brown eyes instantly brightening at the sight of you as you stepped through the door. Even though you were wearing something far less formal than you would have been wearing had you ventured out for dinner together, you were no less beautiful to Din.

You shuffled in wearing sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. Even with your body hidden by your comfortable clothes, Din was still on fire for you. Your outfit was not necessarily befitting such opulent surroundings. Then again, Din would not have picked this hotel out for himself. It was still a shock to his system to be surrounded by such an embarrassment of riches. 

Din was distracted from checking you out by a knock at the door. Dinner had arrived.

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Contrary to Kuiil’s hypothesis, Grogu had not immediately been ready to go down to sleep after dinner. It required a lot of attention from three weary adults and plenty of playtime before the mischievous boy was finally content to sleep. 

With Grogu sound asleep and Kuiil eager to get some rest of his own, Din thought it was finally time for the two of you to retire to your quarters. It was, after all, a considerable amount of time since the last time the two of you had spent some quality time together. Now Din knew that Grogu was happy and settled, after receiving more than enough attention from the three adults whom he loved very much, he was content to leave his boy behind. Din knew that he would be there the second Grogu woke up the following morning.

Although it was tempting to take advantage of the spacious bed with its luxurious sheets, Din was determined to spend some quality time with you. He suggested watching something on the sizable flatscreen TV together while cuddling on the couch of course. Spending time with you and feeling your body on his was an intoxicating thought for Din. That closeness and companionship was something he had missed as much as the sex.

So, while you sprawled on the enormous sofa, Din hovered around by the minibar, fixing the pair of you something to drink. Din was content to leave you flicking through the various channels for something to watch. It reminded him of the time he had visited your flat when you cooked dinner for him and the two of you could not decide what to watch, despite the number of titles. This time, you were in control. He did not doubt that you would pick out something good. Or if you did not, he was certain that the pair of you would find other ways to amuse yourselves…

As he glanced up towards the screen, however, Din felt his stomach drop as you hovered over the streaming platform that The Mandalorian was on. He shook his head, hands suddenly trembling as he took the glass bottles in his hands. There was no way that he could watch the show with you. He hadn’t even seen it himself, too embarrassed to watch himself on screen.

“Looks like this hotel has a pretty nice collection of streaming services. Why don’t we watch my favourite show?” you said enthusiastically as you opened the app.

“What’s that?” Din replied, jokingly feigning ignorance. Hoping that you would not detect the terror that had suddenly settled in the pit of his stomach. 

“You know what my favourite show is!” you exclaimed, thoroughly offended.

“Oh that Star Trek one, right?” Din replied, ducking as you threw a cushion across the room at him. 

“Din!” you exclaimed.

“What, Sunflower?” Din replied, a cocky smirk on his face as he padded across the room and set your drinks down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

Although he may not get all the nerdy references, by confusing your favourite franchise with Star Trek, Din Djarin knew exactly what he had done. He felt lighter already. Laughing like that and knowing exactly how to push your buttons made Din feel as though everything was completely normal. The burden of the secret was temporarily lifted.

When he joked with you like this, it was so easy for Din to pretend that the jokes he was telling about the show were like any other people in a relationship. Teasing banter. It was a sense of normality. But the reality was that Din used such jokes to deflect from the truth. 

He was the man behind your favourite character from your favourite TV show. No amount of jokes could hide that fact.

As Din padded across the room to fetch some cushions and blankets to snuggle up on the spacious couch, the guilt felt as though it was eating him up inside. He struggled to contain his emotions. Din knew that he was doing a terrible thing by lying to you. He was well aware that you would probably be disappointed when you discovered the truth.

Yet, Din also knew that the connection the two of you had was genuine. It had nothing to do with the character he portrayed, despite the way he had first encountered you. After that day at the convention, Din knew that he would have fallen for you regardless. Your brain and wits had stood out to him at the museum tour. Not to mention the way you had bonded with Grogu. 

Anyone who was going to capture Din Djarin’s heart was going to have to realise that he and Grogu were a package deal. You had done that effortlessly.

When he finally sat next to you on the couch, threw a blanket over you and drew you into his side, all of that anguish was forgotten. Din felt your warmth all around him, the safety and security he drew from your touch whenever he was close to you. It was enough to make him forget the secret he was hiding from you. 

With your head on his chest and your legs kicked up on the sofa as you cuddled up together and a terrible movie starting to play on Netflix, it was effortless to forget everything else beyond the here and now. 

It was easy for Din to pretend that everything about how the two of you had met was normal. That there was no devastating secret lingering over you. That it was love and fate, rather than a combination of his job and your love for the show he starred in, which had initially caused your paths to cross. 

Din wished that time would freeze and he would always be as happy as he was together with you in that suite. Curled up with his Sunflower, as you watched a terrible movie together. 

Yet Din Djarin was a pragmatic man. Perhaps because of everything he had been through in his life. He realised, with a sickening, sinking feeling spreading in his stomach, that this happiness was fleeting…

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

That sinking feeling was a distant memory the following day, however. Din was strolling hand in hand with you through Hyde Park in London. Grogu was toddling alongside you, on a toddler lead. It was a beautiful, sunny day. You were both enjoying each other’s company, the anguish that the pair of you had felt for most of the weekend at being separated beyond circumstances that were out of your control was long forgotten. The quality time with each other was more than making up for lost opportunities. Din knew that it had been a more limited weekend than he had hoped, but he was still glad to spend time with you.

It was a warm, sunny day in the park. Unseasonably beautiful for mid-September. It was probably one of the last sunny days before the leaves would turn brown and copper and a colder breeze would be present in the air. So, naturally, most of the population had seemingly had the same idea as the one suggested to Din by you that morning, as you ate breakfast in the suite: to visit Hyde Park. 

Despite the crowds, it was a spacious park, with plenty of room for all of you. Kuiil had been left at a cafe near the entrance, insisting that he was too old to join the rest of you, despite Din’s insistence that he would be more than welcome to join. Still, Din did not push him too hard. The kindly old soul had more than earned his pay this weekend. 

Din squeezed your hand in his, enjoying the warm, comforting reminder of your presence as he strolled along at your side. He kept stealing glances at you, making sure that you were enjoying yourself.

Your eyes were covered by your sunglasses, but the small smile you wore near-permanently on your face proved to him that you were having as much fun as he hoped you were. 

Din had been watching you extra closely this weekend. He always did, but he wanted to make sure that the time spent apart had not affected you. He knew how upset you had been, he was anxious to ensure that he had made up for the upsetting start to your weekend. Din found that his eyes were drawn to you. He could not get enough of looking at you. There was something palpably electric about the way the two of you would steal glances at the other. 

The three of you stopped for an ice cream from a van sitting on benches as you licked the refreshing sweet treats. Grogu, naturally, ended up with far more ice cream around his mouth than actually in it. The contented coos of the little boy proved that he was enjoying himself, at the very least. Even though he had also spilt ice cream over his clothes. 

The only part of him that was stain-free was his green bucket hat. The brown shirt with green shorts that he had selected for himself had fallen victim to his ice cream exploits. Green and brown was his favourite colour combination and Din had enjoyed the way you had gushed at the sight of him that morning. 

After finishing your ice creams, you suggested that the three of you take a walk towards the water’s edge of the lake which was one of the main features of the park. At first, Din’s eyes were drawn towards the swans and ducks that were splashing around in the water there, as well as the people participating in various watersports and making their way across the calm, blue water’s surface on boats. He could have watched them all day, but his attention was taken away from them by the sound of your voice calling out to him.

“Din! Look!” you exclaimed enthusiastically, “There are boats we can hire!” you gasped as you turned to face him and pointed towards a boathouse with a few small rowboats tied up on the jetty in its vicinity which protruded into the water. “Can we hire one, please?”

Din released a sigh that was usually reserved for Grogu, an exasperated tired noise that ordinarily came out when his toddler was troubling him. But the childlike wonderment in your voice and face was too endearing for him to refuse. When you looked at him like that, Din knew he would have done anything for you. 

The prospect of hiring a rowboat was something that Din would never have done on his own. With you, hiring a boat at the park suddenly seemed like an idea that he could at least entertain the prospect of. Din knew this was probably going to end in tears somehow, but he couldn’t resist indulging you and Grogu. Not when the pair of you looked at him with wide, expectant eyes. Waiting for him to give permission.

“Fine,” Din sighed, leaning his weight onto one leg and folding his arms in a way that was so characteristic of him.

It was a careless mannerism, one that was so distinctively Din Djarin. It was also unmistakably Mando. A gesture he often employed on the show, was to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies with just a lean and a sigh. 

Din felt his blood run cold as he noticed the way that you stared at him for a beat longer than was usual. There was a terrible few seconds of silence where he was terrified that a glimmer of recognition had flickered in your eyes.

Fortunately, you soon snapped out of it. Shaking your head you took Grogu’s hand and led him towards the boathouse so you could figure out how to hire the boats. 

When you turned your back, Din shut his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. Without even realising it, he had slipped into one of his mannerisms that he had been so desperate to hide from you. The way he had stood and sighed was something that Mando would do. And he was certain that you had connected those dots. 

Fortunately, you had hurried off before he had to lie to you, again. With his breathing back under control, Din paced over to the boathouse to catch up. You and Grogu were already at the desk, selecting the boat that you wished to hire. 

After exchanging funds and a brief safety talk, with matching yellow life jackets to boot, the three of you were all set for your adventure in a rowboat. Din knew as he climbed into the boat that this was probably going to be a bad idea. Despite his reservations and hesitation and the grumpy dad facade that he was putting on, he was secretly intrigued by what this was going to entail. 

“Have you ever done this before, Din?” you asked, as though you could sense his trepidation. 

“No,” Din huffed, “Never.”

Din watched you shake your head at him with a smile on your face. He was confused by your apparent amusement, wondering what was so funny. Before you could continue teasing him, Din handed Grogu – who was wearing an adorable little yellow life jacket of his own – to you, and ungracefully clambered aboard the wobbly boat behind you.

As Din took a seat on shaky legs, you seemed intent to continue teasing him:

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, I’m sure you’ll be great!” you said cheerfully.

“You’re not rowing with me?” Din said, aghast. It had been your idea to hire this damn boat, after all.

“Oh, there’s only one set of oars. I think you can take the reins here, honey,” you smiled.

Then you proceeded to thoroughly ignore Din’s existence and his predicament, pointing out a tree in the distance to Grogu who was babbling contentedly on your lap.

Din shook his head with a huff and grabbed the ends of the wooden oars. He began to move them with trepidation. The weight was not an issue, especially not for someone with as hulking muscles as Din. But it was difficult to find the knack for the movements. He was uncoordinated at first, the wooden boat wobbling around as Din found his rhythm. 

Din murmured a string of apologies but once he eventually got into the groove, the little boat hurtled away into the middle of the lake. Happy with the position, Din paused his movements and the boat came to a stop. With the sounds of the water sloshing as it hit the sides of the boat, a chorus of birds tweeting and Grogu’s giggles floating into the sweet, warm air… Din wondered if it was possible to feel any more content than he did at that moment. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment, appreciating the sounds as the sun beat down on his face. 

“I wouldn’t mind having a turn rowing,” you said eventually, breaking Din out of the tranquil state he had fallen into.

“Okay,” Din agreed. 

What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. 

First, Din watched as you placed Grogu onto the seat next to you. Second, Din stood up to allow the two of you to swap places on the two benches that were facing each other on the rowboat. Thirdly, he became acutely aware of how the motion of him taking a step towards you caused the little boat to rock as you stood up and your forces acted upon the tiny vessel. 

The sum of your forces sent you hurtling over the edge with a yelp. 

The splash which was produced when your body hit the water sent droplets of the lake all over Din and Grogu, who watched the entire thing with a scared look on their faces.

For a few, terrible seconds it seemed as though the entire world had stopped spinning on its axis as Din waited for you to reemerge from the lake. 

Once he knew that you were okay, he felt certain he was about to get the biggest scolding of his life. He leaned over the edge of the boat, calling your name. 

When you finally reemerged, hair wet and sticking to your face, Din breathed a sigh of relief. Principally, because you had survived your unplanned entrance to the water unscathed but mostly because you did not look like you wanted to murder him. A fact he was extremely grateful for. Instead of fire and fury, you were giggling breathlessly at the sensation. 

Your airy laughs were the perfect accompaniment to the rippling waters of the lake.

“I hate you, Din Djarin!” you yelled between giggles.

It was a joke, there was no malice whatsoever behind those three words. Still, Din couldn’t help but wince slightly as you said such a thing to him. There were three words he never wanted to hear you say again. 

Considering how well you were taking your impromptu dunking, Din thought he had escaped your wrath. He should have known that you would never allow him to get away with the predicament you found yourself in that easily. 

Din leaned over the side of the boat to offer his hand out to you. He knew he would have no trouble pulling you back into the boat. You gladly took his hand and Din began pulling you inside the boat.

Except, Din’s helpful gesture was not met entirely with receptiveness from you. 

It was turn for Din to let out a yelp of his own, this time as you placed all your weight on him and tugged him into the water. 

It all happened so quickly that Din struggled to process what had just happened. For a second, everything was dark and murky. And cold. So cold. 

Eventually, Din resurfaced, dramatically spitting a mouthful of water into the air and throwing daggers at you. There was darkness in those brown eyes, perhaps you would regret the day you ever pushed a Mandalorian into the water. 

Din would deal with you later.

His first concern was for Grogu, who had been left in the boat all by himself. Din wanted to make sure that his son was okay. 

Din discovered, as he pushed himself up to peer over the side that the water was incredibly shallow. He could easily touch the bottom. He felt instantly relieved once he peered over the edge of the boat and locked eyes with his son. 

Except, rather than seeing Grogu’s expressive brown eyes full of concern towards his father’s predicament, there was a rather different expression across Grogu’s face. Din instead rolled his eyes as his son sat there, giggling at the scene unfolding in front of him and clapping his chubby hands together in glee. Din rolled his eyes and turned to face you, pushing his soaked brown hair up out of his eyes and onto his forehead.

Din stood there in the water, shaking his head and laughing at you in disbelief. Here he was, this man who was usually so hesitant to push himself even slightly out of his comfort zone, in the middle of a lake after an impromptu rowboat adventure.

Din looked at you, mesmerised by the way your face was bathed in the warm glow of a sunny afternoon in the park. Your eyes were shining a different colour than usual. Din was transfixed by the sight of you, the glow that seemed to surround you. As though you were an angel, brought to life. Your shirt was wet and clinging to your body, accentuating your figure which Din loved so much.

Before he was conscious of what he was doing, he had closed the distance between you. His hands were buried in your wet hair, it felt just as he had imagined it would, all silken and wet. His lips caressed yours in a slow, gentle kiss. Something about the way the water had caused your t-shirt to get so wet that it was clinging to your body had awakened something in Din. He was kissing you here in public, without a care for any onlookers.

“Everything okay here?” an unfamiliar voice behind Din caused him to snap out of the embrace in an instant.

Din cleared his throat and turned to face the mystery intruder. It was a lifeguard in a rubber dinghy, who had seen two people enter the water and been dispatched to make sure everything was okay. The man was probably close to retirement age and looked thoroughly unimpressed by Din’s antics, causing his skin to flush in embarrassment. 

“Oh… uh, yes. Thank you,” Din stammered. Sorry, we were trying to switch places in the boat and then, this happened,” Din added with a nervous laugh.

“Well, there’s a kid in there you might want to return to,” the man in the boat observed as he nodded towards Grogu who still sat there with a grin on his face.

The blush that crept across Din’s face was unmistakable as the man in the motorised dinghy made his exit, the engine gradually becoming more and more distant. He could hardly look at you as he helped you back onto the boat, lifting you and pushing you back on there, careful not to disturb Grogu. When you eventually made it back onto the boat, you unceremoniously flopped down on the deck like a fish.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The rest of the afternoon was spent lying on the bank next to the lake on fluffy towels. Thankfully, the boathouse had provided them to help dry you out from the soaking you had received. Din had resisted all calls on your part for him to take his shirt off so he would dry quicker. He knew it was just a cheap plea on your part to get to ogle him. He was too self-conscious to contemplate such an act. Despite the ease with which he had stepped out of his comfort zone by agreeing to a spontaneous boat excursion before, his typical shyness had returned. 

Yet, as the sun fell lower in the sky and afternoon turned to early evening, Din decided that it was probably time to begin heading home. He knew a long filming day stretched out ahead of him tomorrow. A day that he knew was going to begin early, just after dawn had broken. Likewise, he knew that you would have to work early. And your job was far more draining and demanding than his.

The three of you had spent much of the afternoon in the same position. You cuddled up on Din’s warm chest as his hands rested around your waist, while Grogu leaned into his shoulder as the little child napped, exhausted from all the excitement. Din hated to move from this position. He would have been quite content to stay here forever. 

“We should probably think about heading home soon,” Din whispered into your hair, nuzzling into the soft strands which were still slightly damp after your dip in the lake.

You nodded in agreement. Din carefully picked Grogu up and gathered him to his chest, grunting slightly as he stood up. Din noticed that you could barely meet his gaze as he offered you his hand and hauled you to your feet.

The three of you set off for the cafe where Kuiil had spent much of the day, Din once again laced his fingers through yours. 

“Would you like to get a ride back with us or would you prefer to make your way home?” Din eventually asked as you approached the gates to leave the park.

Din had noticed the way you had become gradually more withdrawn and quiet. He wasn’t sure what had caused it, but he sensed that the tension in you was probably because you wanted to leave for home. It was a Sunday afternoon, turning into an evening after all. Din knew that you had work the following morning. But then Din noticed how your bottom lip was trembling as you looked at him. He knew that your idea of a peaceful, relaxing weekend had been ruined by his job. His heart ached for the disappointment which surely still lingered. 

“Din, I don’t want to make you feel guilty. I hate to sound so clingy… but I feel like I hardly spent time with you this weekend. I thought I would see so much more of you and it’s been great to see you today… but we’ve been with Grogu pretty much the entire time and I,” you sighed, looking away from him as you attempted to compose yourself. “I miss you, Din. 

“Oh, Sunflower, I understand. Don’t worry. I think this little one is tired so he probably wants to head home but, if you want, you can come back to the cottage,” Din offered.

When he saw the way your eyes lit up, he knew he had made the right decision. 

“Perhaps we can go for a walk there and maybe have dinner together before you head home?” Din suggested.

He noticed the way that your shoulders immediately lifted. The thought of going back to work the following day without having seen as much of him as you were hoping seemed to be upsetting you deeply, Din could tell. So anything he could do to ease that pain made him instantly feel better. Din never wanted to see you upset.

“I’d love that, Din,” you smiled at him. 

Your smile was one of the features that Din loved the most. Especially when you gave him one that made your eyes crinkle. Knowing that you were feeling better soothed Din’s shaky nerves. He thanked his lucky stars that the pair of you would not end this weekend with one of you feeling upset.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The Nevarro Arms was the most defining feature of the tiny village of Nevarro itself, aside from the huge studios, The Volume, that stood right next to it. It was where most residents of Nevarro spent their evenings, drinking and chatting with each other. 

Although they were a staple of the British countryside, pubs seemed small, intimate and terrifying to Din. 

Despite how much time he had spent in the UK and how much he was enjoying his time here, this was not the country of his birth. There were certain cultural oddities that he could not get used to, no matter how hard he tried. Pub culture was evidently one of them.

Fortunately, you were slightly more of a local than Din. So, you insisted, when you passed it at the village cross on your way to walk the path around the hill where you had infamously been caught in the rainstorm a few weeks back, that he had to at least have a pint in his local. 

“You haven’t even been to a pub since you got here?” you asked, astounded, as the two of you walked hand in hand through the tiny village of Nevarro. 

Except for The Nevarro Arms and a couple of small shops which sold basic groceries, there was nothing else really of note here. Besides The Volume, of course. 

“No,” Din replied with a smirk. He found it adorable how worked up you seemed to be getting over something as simple as never having visited a pub.

“Din! That’s ridiculous!” you said, exasperated.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, “Just didn’t appeal to me.”

“Well, we’re changing that today,” you smiled at him, “On the way back from our walk, you’ll have a pint, and you'll enjoy it!

Din was relieved to see how much you had brightened up since he had invited you here, you had been visibly upset at the prospect of leaving him. He still felt awful about the whole thing, about his work keeping him from you, but he was grateful for how patient and understanding you were with him. 

Din was transfixed by the sight of the sun setting as the two of you strolled around a dirt path, bugs buzzing as the sun set, the two of you hand in hand. You started swinging your joined hands playfully. Din giggled at the sight. He loved the zest for life that you possessed. That something as simple as just taking a stroll at sunset with him seemed to perk your spirits up and make you so playful. 

He would need every bit of those positive emotions to carry him through his first time stepping foot in his local. 

Din felt his stomach churning with nerves as the two of you entered The Nevarro Arms. It was an old building with a slightly sloped doorway, indicating its age. 

Din immediately felt like an outsider, an alien.

Part of what had prevented him from ever visiting the quaint old building was a fear that there would be a barrage of questions from the owner of the pub.

Din was nervous that they would suss him out somehow. He suspected that the pub did not get many foreigners in it. Once they realised how close Din lived to The Volume, that would be it. They would know he was The Mandalorian.

Although it was an irrational fear, Din looked and sounded much different than the character he portrayed, the terror at the prospect of being discovered never really left him. He was constantly checking himself, trying to speak differently and disguise the gait of his walk. He had found that it was surprisingly easy to blend in, given how people were never really going to imagine what Mando looked like without the suit of armour.

Still, as he stepped into his local pub for the first time, his clammy hand clasped in yours, Din was a bundle of nerves. It was amusing that he could fight people off physically like it was no more physically demanding than opening a jar of pickles. When it came to people… Din felt out of his depth.

Fortunately, it transpired that his fears were misplaced, for the pub landlord – not owner, you had corrected Din on the proper terminology – was just as much of an outsider as Din was. 

Greef Karga was not from this part of the world either, like Din he had once been employed at the studios here. An actor from the US, after concluding his job here, had just never left. He explained how he had fallen in love with the environment here and bought a cottage close by.

When the former landlord of The Nevarro Arms had sold up, Greef had decided to step in and buy the pub to save it from closure. It was an icon of the surrounding area that desperately needed saving. Greef had heeded the call.

Upon seeing how relaxed and friendly Greef was, Din felt instantly relieved. The image he had feared of a nosy old lady with grey hair, mottled skin and too much time on her hands, who wanted to know everything about Din’s life as well as yours had been his biggest fear. With Greef, he needn’t have worried.

The only thing that did worry him, though, was how extensively Greef had talked about the studios here. 

Now there was no way to avoid it. Surely you were going to bring it up. 

When Greef finally got distracted by some other customers, Din followed you through the pub to find a table. He was appreciating the low beams of the pub, the unmistakable smoky feeling produced by the real wooden fire. He was finally beginning to feel calm and relaxed. 

Until he saw it. 

His heart dropped at the sight of it.

You were walking directly towards a huge display of Star Wars memorabilia. Various posters and autographs were framed, and hanging proudly on the walls. There was no way around it. No way you weren't going to stop and bring it up.

Everything Greef had just told you would have been a perfect segue for Din to come clean, to tell you the truth, that it was no coincidence that he lived in Nevarro, given its proximity to The Volume. That he was The Mandalorian. 

When you inevitably stopped in front of the impressive display of memorabilia at The Nevarro Arms, it would provide a perfect conversation starter. He could just slip it in carefully. There would be no more paranoia that you would find the terrible secret he had been keeping from you. He would not have to hide such an enormous part of his life from you any longer. He could tell you all about how much being a Mandalorian meant to him. He could be honest with you about what kept him from you on long shooting days.

Once again, Din took the coward’s way out.

Right before you reached the display of memorabilia, Din called your name.

You turned away from it abruptly, spinning around to face him. 

“I thought we could sit here, by the fire?” Din said as he gestured towards a cosy table tucked away in the corner. 

“Sure,” you nodded and moved to join him.

Din breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down opposite you. Anxious that the conversation would not circle back to The Volume, or anything about the memorabilia on display, Din asked you a question that he knew would serve a dual purpose; that would keep you distracted and talking, while also pulling your mind far away from Star Wars. 

“What’s the history behind Sunday Roasts?” Din asked, inquisitively. “I mean, I saw a sign for them outside here ‘Try our famous Sunday Roast!’ but I’ve never heard of one before.”

At once, you pivoted from someone Din was on a date with into your full historian mode. You launched yourself into an enthusiastic lecture, telling him all about Sunday roasts.

“So, British food has a bad rep around the world and that’s pretty fair. Some of this island’s cuisine is truly terrible. But I think the history of the roast is quite interesting and amusing,” you started, eyes twinkling with delight at finally getting to share your knowledge. “A lot of countries put pride and time into their cooking, but I think British people have always been a little more lazy than that. We think the Sunday Roast or Roast Dinner as we know it first started in the Middle Ages. After a busy week of working in the fields, the peasants would just shove a joint of meat into a roasting tin and leave it to cook over the fire while they went to church. So when they returned, I’m not sure what was tougher, the boots they wore to work in the fields all week or the meat!” you giggled.

“Yeah, I wonder,” Din laughed, “Interesting history, though. Never heard anything about it before. Thanks for the lecture,” Din added with a wink.

“Oh, there I go again,” You said timidly, biting your lip in embarrassment, “Off on another one of my lectures. You can take the girl out of the museum but you can’t take the museum out of the girl.”

“No, Sunflower,” Din whispered, smiling as he propped his elbow on the table, resting his hand on his chin, “I love it when you go off on your little tangents about things. Your passion and enthusiasm… it’s infectious. You’re also incredibly cute when you do it.”

“Din…” you scoffed. 

Din smiled at your bashfulness. He loved how much more open you seemed to be to receiving compliments from him. You had been so shy at first and now you seemed to be getting increasingly comfortable with him admiring you and appreciating your presence.

“I mean it, Sunflower,” Din nodded, as he laced his fingers with yours.

Here, in this tiny, cosy pub, as the sun set and the fire crackled in the corner, Din thought you looked perfect. Your beauty was on full display to him, both inside and outside. The twinkle in your eye that was evident after the compliments he had paid you only added to your gorgeousness.

Din knew then that he had made the right decision. How could he ever let you go? 

“Thank you,” you said with a wink, “Let me go and get us another round, do you want your usual?”

“A what?” Din added in confusion. He knew he understood the words you were saying, but some of them seemed so alien in this context. 

“In the UK, it's common to buy a round of drinks rather than everyone going up to the bar individually. Saves time and as long as everyone sticks to the same drinks, it pretty much works out at the same cost. And your usual is just what you had before, so in your case a pint of the cider Greef recommended?”

“Oh,” Din nodded, fascinated as he was introduced to this new culture he knew nothing about. “I'll have another pint of cider but let me pay, baby,” Din insisted, placing his hand out to try and stop you.

“No, Din. I insist. I want to buy a pint,” you smiled as you walked away from his outstretched hand.

Din had no real concept of how long the process of ordering a pint should take. But as the minutes ticked by, he struggled to remain rational about what was taking you so long at the bar. After a few minutes, he became concerned about whether something had happened to you. 

It wasn’t like The Nevarro Arms was the busiest pub in the universe, given the tiny village that it served. So, despite his reservations and fear that he was being overbearing, Din moved from the table and went to the bar. 

Thankfully, he spotted you straight away and some of the tension that had been building inside of him was somewhat relieved when he caught sight of you standing at the bar.

However, his heart instantly sank when he saw who you were talking to. A familiar figure, who Din instantly recognised. 

It was Migs Mayfeld, a security guard from The Volume. 

Din suspected that Mayfeld was already slightly inebriated. Din locked eyes with the bald man, but Migs broke contact and resumed chatting with you. 

He tried to quell his panic by remembering that Migs would have no idea who he was. After all, the only way that he would have known that Din Djarin was The Mandalorian was if he was standing there with a big suit of armour on.

But Din was not wearing armour. He was wearing jeans and a sweater. 

You hadn't spotted him yet, your back turned as you continued chatting away to Mayfeld. Din suddenly felt guilty and awkward about his paranoia. He turned to leave, seeing that you had only been chatting to Greef and Migs and there were no more sinister reasons for how long you had taken. At that moment, you must have spotted him because from across the bar, he heard you call his name.

Din turned to face you and heard you say:

“Oh Migs, this is… uh, my boyfriend, Din.”

Din froze. There was no option now, he had to go and greet the man who had accompanied him to set so many times and checked him in at the little security hut at the entrance to The Volume. Din was silently praying that the armour hid enough of his build and voice so that Mayfeld did not guess who he was.

“Pleasure to meet you. Mayf– Migs, was it?” Din asked, his heart skipping a beat as he almost said the man’s surname. The nickname that everyone at work used for him. Luckily, Din corrected himself just in time.

Din noticed the way Mayfeld regarded him as he moved in to shake his hand, hoping that the flicker of recognition he thought he saw was something else. 

“Nice to meet you Din, you got a wonderful girl here, I must say,” Mayfeld smiled.

The way Mayfeld turned to smile at you unsettled something in Din. He felt his blood turning hot. Luckily, you were on hand to diffuse the situation.

“Well, nice to speak to you Migs,” you nodded in the bald man’s direction, “And Greef,” you smiled at the man pulling pints behind the bar. “We’ll go sit by the fire and enjoy our pints. It's Din’s first time in a pub and he’s pretty excited to be here,” you smiled.

Din watched speechless as you walked towards him and grabbed his arm. 

“You okay?” you asked, linking your arm through his as you led him back to the table.

Din nodded, although he wasn’t entirely sure that was the truth, because of how you had referred to your relationship with him to Mayfeld. The fact that you had just referred to him as your boyfriend was running through his brain on an endless loop.

The pride, the happiness that he saw in your eyes when you said that word. It was something that the two of you had not officially discussed, but it felt so right. It would be wrong to refer to you in any other way. 

After he had met you, there was no question for Din of there being anyone else. It was always you, only you. 

Now, due to his cowardice, he felt immense guilt. That title, your relationship becoming something official was exactly what Din wanted more than anything else in the world. There were no doubts in his mind that you were the one for him. 

You had brought him out of his shell, including earlier in the day on the boats in the park. It was something he never would have considered on his own but with you, it just felt so right and Grogu had the best time. Your relationship with Din’s son was just as special as the relationship you had with Din, it was plain to see how much joy you had brought to the special little boy’s life.

Rather than feel the sheer joy he should have felt at your decision to bestow such a beautiful title on him, Din suddenly felt heavy and burdened by it. As you slid back into the cosy table to enjoy the freshly pulled pints of cider, there was one emotion Din was plagued with above all. 

Guilt.

Din knew he should never have allowed to get it to this point, such a serious step, without saying something first, telling you the truth about who he was. The guilt threatened to engulf him, it was eating him up inside. Din’s heart broke when you took his inner turmoil as a sign that he was not happy with the way you had just referred to him.

“I hope you uhh… you didn’t mind me saying that. I mean calling you my boyfriend. I know we didn’t talk about it or anything but uh…. I don’t think Mayfeld was flirting really but I just wanted him to know I was seeing someone and it’s serious,” you said, anxiously looking up at Din over your glass as you took your first sip from your pint.

Din felt awful about the anxiety that he saw there, that you were so worried you had been upset when you had done nothing of the sort. Now that he looked at you before him and thought of you as his girlfriend, it caused a sensation in Din’s chest that was quite unlike anything he had experienced before. Somewhere between pride, security and a dash of possessiveness – knowing that you were his. No one else’s. He moved to reassure you, he could not leave you thinking that it was something he would not have chosen for himself. Din placed his arms on the table and took both of your hands in his, gazing at you adoringly.

“I do not mind for a single second, Sunflower,” Din beamed at you, “We didn’t talk about it, that’s true, but to me, it feels right. I am honoured to hold your heart.”

Din brought his lips to your hands, marvelling at how soft your skin was as he placed a firm kiss on the back of your hand. The sigh of relief he heard you release was noticeable in the quiet of the pub, and Din was happy that he had managed to reassure you.

“And I am honoured that you want to,” you said, beaming at Din adoringly. “Despite how useless I am when it comes to rowing boats.”

Din laughed at that, the memory of your earlier exploits in the park was going to live with him for a long time and comfort him in his darkest days, Din was sure of that. 

“Well, you can’t have it all. It would be unfair on the rest of the world, otherwise,” Din said as he took a sip from his cider.

“Din…” you scoffed, unused to such a beautiful compliment.

To Din, you did look so beautiful. The firelight illuminated your features as the sky behind the window your table was against turned to a dark blue behind you. The wooden panels of the pub combined with the traditional decor and crackling fire all contributed to the scene before Din. He thought it was one of the most stunning sights he had ever seen. Here was a man who, thanks to his work, had travelled the world and dined in many of the most luxurious, exclusive establishments. It turned out the greatest one of them all was this small, quaint, pub in the English countryside. All thanks to you.

It was such a beautiful moment, Din was almost swept up in it completely. But then he remembered what he was hiding from you, and the sickening feeling in his stomach came back. He was so terrified of ruining this, the most incredible thing in his life aside from his son, that he was tongue-tied. It would have been a perfect opportunity to tell you. 

Instead, he sat there, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. Whether from the love he felt for you or the crackling fire, he wasn't entirely sure. Still, Din basked in the moment. Committing every single sight and sound to memory as he watched you. 

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The rest of the night was passed with pleasant chatter and laughter. Din could tell that you wanted to stay overnight, and he wanted you to. He didn’t want the laughter by the fire on this pleasant summer evening with the delicious pints of cider to end. But even if it would have been possible for you to blag a sick day, that was impossible for him, especially not with how filming was coming to a climax. It would never wash.

So, reluctantly, after one more pint, Din walked you outside and placed you into a waiting car that would take you home, thanks to the driver that the company supplied for him to use whenever he needed it. Din could tell that you felt hesitant to use such a luxury, but he had repeatedly assured you that it wasn’t coming out of his pocket. 

Even if he was, he could surely afford it. Din usually felt embarrassed by the riches that were afforded to him, but wherever he could use a perk of the job to spoil you, it all felt worthwhile to him. Din watched the car leave down the narrow country lane one way before he turned around and headed back towards the cottage, back to his son who was surely asleep, having been lulled off by the dulcet tones of Kuiil. Din was always happy to get back to Grogu, but he missed you already.

Din returned to Grogu and the cottage. He hummed a happy tune, feeling a buzz from the cider. Blissfully unaware that something as simple as a visit to his local pub could have changed everything. 

As he stood in the door, watching Grogu sleep peacefully, Din Djarin had no idea that by finally taking you to The Nevarro Arms, he had just set in motion a chain of events that would change the future for the two of you in the most dramatic way…

Next Chapter

Taglist: @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

[happypotato48]

GMMTV 2024 PART 2 Unhinged Tangent Thoughts (Only The Queers Though)

Ossan’s Love Thailand รักนี้ให้ "นาย": oh here we go again for the third times. i'm still skeptical about it and Chakrit Yamnam definitely is not an ossan yet but... damnnnnn my inner slut for older men sense is tingling, i know gmmtv just gonna keep doing this boring BL idol pairs nonsense, but like can we get more older gays/age gap BLs? i haven't seen Chakrit in ages and that man still so damn fine! he and our honorary uncle earth could've been something that thai BL is currently lacking, a sloppy hotmess Daddies. but alas that will remain a dream for now.

The ​Heart Killers เขาจ้างให้ผมจีบนักฆ่า: i haven't watch the Eclipse yet and really didn't liked both Star In My Mind and Hidden Agenda and definitely never gonna watch Only Friend (seen all the sex scenes though.) i loved the chaotic energy the trailer giving and i'm always a sucker for black comedy (don't know if this show gonna be that but fingercrossed) when it done correctly. also this show better serve us so many leather bad boy looks. i may have not be completely sold on this show yet, but i'm horny for it.

สายรหัสเทวดา Perfect10 Liners: "Too Many Cooks repeated for several minutes" i'm going to be there for forcebook and juniormark but like wtf in frash glee hell is this, most of these mofos are pushing 30. let them be adults god danm it, i know that the target demographic for gmmtv is young adults and teenagers and that they really love/good at??? school settings. but come on let's our peter pans and wendies fly free. they're probably bored out of their fucking minds by now.

Us รักของเรา | GMMTV 2024 PART 2: i'm gonna be a good little homo and let's all the great wlws do all the talking for this show. i'm not keen on the sibling's lover stealing trope but hey as the great Lucille Bluth one said, good for her.

Thame - Po (เธม-โป้): HEART THAT SKIPS A BEAT: hehehe, Est is so pretty, ok i'm sold i'm easy like that. i was never into any boy bands as a teen, but there like a lot of former thai boy bands members that came out as gay in recent years so maybe i shouda had. anywhoo i probably not gonna mind the singing and dancing in this show since most of them going to be done by singers/dancers and not actors turned idols.

REVAMP THE UNDEAD STORY: i'm really not into serious vempires so this show is kinda meh for me. the goofy ones though those i'd have eat up. this one probably a pass for me.

แฟนที่ทันตแพทย์ส่วนใหญ่แนะนำ Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist: all my blorbos are here we get mark, baby ohm, poon, and หมอjim. ahhhhhhh!! i need it now. i also don't mind dentists like most people especially when they're good looking guys, those handsome doctors can put anything in my mouth😉

เพราะแฟนเก่าเปลี่ยนแปลงบ่อย The Ex-Morning: is this going to be our second coming BL? idk i never there for first one 😝this show either going to be a good meta commentary about the whole business that gone down or its head going be so up it own ass that will take several bottles of lube to get the head out to see the sunlight. we'll see.

[star-going-supernova]

I’m not really sure how to word this? Here’s a prompt for you I guess? Gregory would 100% take a photo in front of his missing poster smiling with a peace sign. Also I think he’s just the type of gremlin to take one of them for himself much to everyone’s exasperation.

Tumblr generated prompt number 4, here we go! Gregory and Cassie are both in their late teens here, in their first year of college. This is pretty slice-of-life-y with no clear connection to any AU other than a generally happy one.

title is a play on the saying “not all who wander are lost”

Not All Who Have Missing Posters are Lost

Gregory pulled out his phone and opened the camera app. Leaning against the telephone pole, he threw up a peace sign and grinned. Satisfied with the picture, he sent it to the group chat. 

Gregory

image_attachment.87265032 lol good times :) 

He stowed his phone in his pocket, mentally counting down until it started blowing up with messages. Then he carefully tore the missing poster bearing his face—albeit his much younger face—off the pole and tucked it into his laptop bag. 

He walked the rest of the way to the bus stop, letting his phone vibrate every few seconds, and only once he’d sat down did he pull it back out, snickering as he read through the small backlog. 

Cassie

XD you’re still finding those?? 

Vanessa 

oh my gosh pull it down pull it down we do NOT need a repeat of two years ago

Roxy 

who was even looking for you, lol

Freddy

Roxy! Do not be rude! 

Cassie

you look so young. so innocent.

Roxy

yeah but we know better ah dang it, i can feel fazbear’s disapproval from across the plex 

Bonnie

You were such a cute kid! Look at those cheeks!

Vanessa

seriously, though, what part of town is that? if there’s one, there might be more

Chica

Oooh! Congrats on adding another to your collection :)

Monty 

lol nice

Freddy

Are you on your way home, superstar? 

Roxy 

wee woo, dad alert! you know the rules, no sappiness in the group chat, fazbear

Freddy

What was sappy about that?

Cassie

if nicknames count, Roxy, you’ll have to start calling me by my name now 

Roxy 

… fiiiine, i take it back 

Gregory 

XD yes, Ness, I tore it down, and it was on Reed St, but it looked like some other posters had been taken off recently, exposing this one, so i don’t think it’s a widespread issue yes, Dad, I’m on my way back. just got on the bus, should be there in 10 mins 

He stayed on his phone for the rest of the ride, confirming their plans for dinner later. Cassie had finished her final exams the day before, so she’d already been by the pizzaplex to say hi to everyone. 

The bus dropped him off just down the street from the pizzaplex, and though early December was chilly, he enjoyed the bite in the air. There’d be snow soon, he was sure, and he was looking forward to some lazy days with a mug of hot chocolate and a warm blanket. 

Gregory’s first semester of college had been awesome, but he was happy to be home, and even happier to find Freddy waiting inside the side entrance that Gregory favored. He stepped forward into his adoptive dad’s arms, marveling yet again that he was taller than Freddy’s shoulders these days. 

“Welcome home, Gregory,” Freddy said softly. 

“I missed you,” Gregory told him, holding on tight. He sighed contentedly, the remaining stress from exams draining away. 

“Your winter break lasts a month and a half, correct?” 

“Mhm. And I plan on staying here for all of it.” 

“Good. The others have been looking forward to your return.” 

Gregory pulled back and unzipped his coat. “Just the others?” he teased. 

Freddy cleared his throat, which was as good a sign as any of his sheepishness (he’d probably been beside himself with excitement), and followed after Gregory as they descended into the basement, where Gregory had commandeered several rooms for his own use years ago. Vanessa had offered him a room in her house, but he’d politely declined, though he’d slept over there many times over the years. He was just too attached to the pizzaplex and its inhabitants, and also his independence. 

After popping into his bedroom to drop off his bags and coat, he quickly went into his workroom. It held his desk and bookshelves and the different personal projects he’d tinkered with over the years, and it also held his wall of missing posters. 

Freddy chuckled from the doorway as Gregory used sticky-tack to affix it into an empty space. It was almost like wallpaper, over two dozen posters with slight variations plastered edge to edge. Some were black and white, some were in color, and there was a variety of childhood pictures used among them. His favorite was one that misspelled his name as Gegory. That one was carefully framed. His second favorite, also framed, was a homemade wanted poster that Cassie given him for his fourteenth birthday. 

Gregory stepped back and surveyed his wall with his hands on his hips. “Perfect,” he said, pleased. 

“If you are satisfied,” Freddy said, “then we should go meet the others. Bonnie and Chica are relentlessly spamming me with frowny faces because I am ‘hogging you.’” 

“Tell them it’s your dad rights,” Gregory said, even as he bounded from the room, eager to reunite with the rest of his family. “Is Vanessa around? Is she still the junior location manager, or did they promote her again?” 

“She has been fending off a promotion for two weeks now. They reached a stalemate yesterday when she threatened to quit.” 

“They always fall for that,” Gregory snickered. “As if this is the time she’s gonna pack her bags, psh.” 

“They have been getting faster about calling her bluff,” Freddy mused wryly. 

They got in an elevator, and as they went up, they listened to the awful elevator music that hadn’t changed since Gregory was ten years old and running around the pizzaplex for the first time. 

“I am glad you are back,” Freddy said after a few moments. “I know you need to go and experience the world, and I would never want to hold you back from that. But I hope you know you will always have a home here, with us.” 

Gregory shuffled sideways to be tucked into Freddy’s side. “Aw, Dad. No matter how far I go or how long I’m gone, I promise—I’ll always come back. No one’s gonna need missing posters for me again.”