#Imagine your wife dies in childbirth and you name the kid after the guy who was regularly cheating on you with

[largemandrill]

Ok I’m like a little under halfway into Wicked now and like. Turtle Heart was their third right? This doesn’t read as “husband, wife, and wife’s affair partner” this just looks like a poly couple. Frex named his son after this guy, he must of liked him a lot. This isn’t even a joke this is a genuine question.

[orangeoctopi7]

All of Your So-Called Problems

[AO3 link]

Stan was trying to find room for the leftover Mac and Cheese in the fridge when he heard the doorbell. He grumbled a few obscenities under his breath as he trudged towards the door. He was NOT in the mood for visitors tonight, even if they might be paying customers. The fact that a demon was trying to break into the house to steal some world-ending piece of junk from Ford didn’t help.

"We're closed!" He shouted before he even peeked out the window. He pulled back the blinds just enough to glare at whoever thought it was a good idea to drop by this late, and his eyebrows raised nearly to his receding hairline when he saw who it was.

"Wendy!? Since when do you knock?" Stan couldn't think of a single time she hadn't just come in and made herself at home since she'd started working at the Shack.

"Since Dipper told me you answered the door with a loaded gun earlier today." The teen answered as Stan opened the door.

"Gonna have to have a talk with that runt about blabbing." Stan rolled his eyes. "What, you having a movie night with the kids?"

"Not exactly." The teen jerked a thumb over her shoulder, and Stan finally noticed the rest of the Corduroy family standing just behind her, right off the porch. They were all carrying sleeping bags and pillows.

"...Wha?" Stan could only utter a surprised grunt as his brain tried to piece together why it looked like the entire Corduroy family was here for a sleepover. 

"Dipper called me and said we could stay here until your brother puts up a barrier around our house." Wendy explained, noticing her boss's confusion. "...Aaand he never even told you anything about it, did he?"

"He sure didn't." Stan deadpanned.

As if on cue, Dipper and Ford both stepped into the entryway.

"Oh, Wendy, you're here already!" Dipper said, voice dripping with faked surprise. "I forgot to ask Grunkle Stan if it was ok for you guys to stay the night. But gosh, since you're already here, I guess we can't turn you away!"

"You can drop the act, bucko, I wrote the book on It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission." Stan folded his arms disapprovingly. "The answer's still no. We're already putting up one freeloader."

"I'm the one who said they could stay." Ford said firmly.

Stan turned his glare to his brother. "This isn't a safehouse, genius!"

"It's my house, Stanley!"

"Where are they even gonna sleep!?"

"Well, perhaps we'd have some place to put up guests if you hadn't turned the two largest rooms into a tourist trap!"

"Oh, like you kept the place ready for company when you lived here!" Stan countered. "These rooms were both filled to the brim with your weird experiments when I got here!"

“Hey, we can sleep outside like men, if it’s too much trouble to put us up!” Manly Dan interrupted the brothers’ argument.

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option.” Ford shook his head. “The barrier barely extends past the front porch.” 

Ford quickly took a mental survey of where there might be extra room. The basement lab was out. He’d finished dismantling the portal, but he was storing the rift down there for now. His secret study was supposed to be a secret, and he still needed to clear out all that old Bill memorabilia. The attic was already taken by Dipper and Mabel. Stanley still had the main bedroom, and Fiddleford was currently sleeping on the couch in the upstairs study. That left the den, which might be large enough for one or two people, but certainly not a family of five. If only Stan hadn’t filled his old experiment and specimen rooms with useless junk! Sure, the rooms hadn’t exactly been empty before, but Ford at least would have known what things could be moved where to make room for their guests. Even his old thinking parlor was… wait…

“What about the parlor?” The old researcher asked.

Stan shrugged. “I kinda use it as a space for rotating exhibits, or whatever else I need at the time. Pretty sure it’s still full of leftover campaigning junk.”

“So, nothing we can’t throw out then.”

“Not so fast, genius, I still haven’t agreed to letting anyone stay here.”

“This is an emergency, Stanley!” Ford fumed. “And besides, it’s not your decision to make!”

Stan regarded the Corduroy family still standing awkwardly on his porch, and tried to imagine Manly Dan with those disturbing yellow eyes he’d seen on that time traveler earlier. He tried to picture the hulking lumberjack acting like that erratic demon. It was not a pleasant thought.

“Alright, fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But only because I don’t want any of these ax-weidling giants possessed by a triangular serial-killer. And don’t expect me to provide any bedding or food!”

“Yeah, we can probably snare ourselves a few squirrels or something.” Wendy’s oldest brother assured Stan.

Stan grimaced. “On second thought, help yourselves to some canned meat. Only the stuff that’s expired though!”

“Thanks Stan.” Wendy said. “For giving us a place to stay until this blows over, not for the expired meat.”

“What? They pad that date out by at least a year. As long as it smells fine, it’s good to eat.” Stan defended himself.

The teen rolled her eyes but stepped into the Shack, followed by her family.

Ford observed them all carefully as they entered. No hesitation or sign of even noticing it as they crossed over the barrier. So they definitely weren’t possessed now. He would have to keep a close eye on them while they stayed. He knew that Dipper trusted Wendy, and that was good enough for him, for now, but the others? Ford vaguely remembered Dan from when he’d been a young man, building this very cabin for him. He’d been friendly, loud, and boisterous. It appeared his sons were cut from the same cloth. But it was hard to say whether or not Bill could convince any of them to try and smash the rift.

“So Wendy, did you manage to get more unicorn hair?” Dipper asked as he helped her lay out a sleeping bag in the parlor.

“Oh yeah. I just snuck into that glade again with a pair of shears and a tranq dart. Works just as well as fairy dust.” She handed a grocery bag full of rainbow hair to Ford.

Ford made a mental note to add that tidbit to the Journal 1 entry on unicorns later. “I’ll get started on it first thing tomorrow.”

Mabel came downstairs to help just a minute later. After a lot of rearranging of campaign signs and novelty phones, everyone had a sleeping space set out. Dan took Stan’s recliner in the den, and his youngest son set out a sleeping bag at his feet. The oldest three children laid out their sleeping bags between the piles of junk in the parlor. 

“Ohmigosh, Dipper, we should pull our mattresses down here and have a mega-sleepover!” Mabel gasped as she pushed the last of the campaign signs into a corner.

“What was the point of clearing out all this junk if we aren’t even gonna sleep in our own beds?” Dipper asked tiredly.

“Hmm, good point. Maybe Barry and Stuart can sleep in our beds, and we can sleep down here with Wendy!”

Dipper and Wendy’s middle brother both blushed beet red.

“Uh… I mean… I, uh, I don’t think Wendy would want to sleep with me--US! With us!” Dipper stammered.

“M-me? Sleep in a g-girl’s room? Like a room that a girl sleeps in?” The middle brother gulped.

“Yyyeah, I think we’re good where we are.” Wendy said cooly, trying to diffuse the awkward tension in the room.

“Aw man!” Mabel pouted, but she didn’t put up any other protest than that. Dipper suspected she was still pretty worn out from the rescue mission this morning.

Eventually, everyone got settled down and the children all fell asleep. The elder Pines twins moved back to the living room to check on Dan one more time.

"Hey, now that the kids are asleep, I've been meaning to ask you something." The lumberjack said in a low rumble that was probably his version of a whisper. "How long have there been two of you?"

"Hooboy…" Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't want to retread this again.

"I'm Stanford. I'm the one you first met when you built this place for me. My brother Stanley has been living here under my name for the last 30 years." Ford summarized tiredly. Apparently he wasn't in the mood to make a big deal out of it right now either.

Stan could practically see the gears turning in Manly Dan's head. Eventually the grizzled lumberjack nodded. "Yeah, that adds up."

With that, he turned over and went to sleep. Stan was a little surprised that the guy accepted their explanation just like that. But then again, Dan had lived in Gravity Falls his whole life.

Ford grabbed a folding chair from the card table and carried it out into the giftshop.

"Are you seriously gonna stay up and keep watch over that snowglobe thing all night?" Stan asked incredulously.

"My usual sleeping place is already occupied, I may as well." 

"Y’know, operating on so little sleep just makes you more likely to screw up.”

“Don’t worry. I’m well accustomed to it.”

“Not reassuring.” Stan said flatly, turning and climbing the stairs up to his room. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he probably wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight either. But at least he was going to try. Ford was going to run himself ragged if he kept up this pace.

- - -

Nights in prison were the worst part of the whole ordeal, in Gideon's opinion. At least during the day, he was able to sway the other inmates to do what he wanted. There was a sort of mob mentality that he could take control of. But at night, it was just Gideon and his cell-mate, and there was nothing the boy could do to stop the hulking man from taking his pillow and doing whatever he wanted with it. 

Last week, the convicted felon had staged a wedding in their cell. He’d made a veil out of toilet paper and hummed “Here Comes the Bride” and everything. Tonight, he seemed to be discussing the possibility of children with his new “wife”.

“But Tessa, your mother and your aunt both died in childbirth! I’m just worried about you, honey!” He paused for whatever imagined reply the pillow gave. “Adoption, you say? I’ll admit, I had not considered it.”

Gideon groaned. He couldn’t even put a pillow over his ears to try and block out the nonsense! He’d tried to persuade the warden to let him switch cell mates so he could room with Ghost Eyes, but apparently they were “both instigators” and putting them both in the same cell would be “asking for a prison riot”.

The boy’s eyes flicked with annoyance to the cat poster still hiding his last attempt to summon Bill Cipher. The triangle had appeared and promised he was working on something, but so far Bill had failed to deliver.

“Stupid useless demon!” Gideon muttered under his breath. He rolled over, expecting another sleepless night.

Well, it did turn out to be sleepless, but not for the reason he’d anticipated.

It was a little past 10 PM when Gideon heard the familiar sound of an old van’s engine revving. He’d heard it many times on his father’s used car lot, but what on earth would one of those junkers be doing here?

That’s when he heard the unmistakable sound of a van crashing through a wall. Followed by the even more unmistakable sound of a machine gun.

“Heavens to Betsy, what was that!?” Gideon ran to his barred window just in time to see a pudgy man with a machine gun walk away from the wreckage of where a large van had burst through the prison wall. His maniacal laughter sounded familiar.

“Well whaddya know? Bill came through!” Gideon said in a hushed whisper. 

He dove away from the window with a yelp a second later when the machine gun started firing in his direction. A few seconds later there was a much quieter bang as a tall ladder hit the wall just outside the window. 

“HEY GIDEON, I HEARD YOU WERE GETTING TIRED OF YOUR PRISON AND WANT TO FIND SOMEPLACE NEW TO PARTY?”

“Bill!?”

“THE ONE AND ONLY!”

“Are you trying to kill me, you maniac!?” 

“YEESH, YOU FLESH-SACKS ARE SO SENSITIVE! YOU’RE FINE. BESIDES, I NEEDED TO LOOSEN THESE BARS!” He ripped out the bars on the window with ease. They’d already been loosened by the machine gun fire. “YOU COMING OR NOT? I NEED YOUR HELP STAGING A LITTLE PRISON BREAK OF MY OWN.”

Gideon pouted and followed the demon down the ladder, grumbling the whole way.

“... You know what, Tessa? I don’t think I want kids after all.” Gideon’s cowering cell mate said after they left. 

Bill kept the guards off them with plenty of machine gun fire, but he had little regard for who he was shooting at, guard or prisoner. He even narrowly missed Gideon on a few occasions.

“Oooh, I hope Killbone’s foot will be ok.” The boy hissed sympathetically as he saw one of his inmate friends go down.

“NAH, HE’S CRIPPLED FOR LIFE!”

They finally made it to the van, and Gideon climbed into the passenger-side door. Bill followed after him.

“A-aren’t you gonna drive?” The boy asked.

“TCH, FUNNY! I JUST RAMMED THIS THING THROUGH THREE WALLS OF CONCRETE; YOU THINK THE MEASLY COMBUSTION ENGINE STILL WORKS?” He flicked a lighter on and dropped it down between the driver’s seat and the steering wheel. Gideon could smell the gasoline. This thing was going to blow any second. He scampered over the benches and out the back door. Bill followed casually behind him.

“Then how are we supposed to get away!?” Gideon demanded as he sprinted to put distance between himself and the burning van.

“RELAX, SHORT-STACK, I’VE GOT A SECOND GET-AWAY CAR RIGHT HERE!” Bill pointed out a small black Audi parked behind a tall tree.

“Then why did you set the van on fire?” Gideon asked in confusion.

“BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT’D BE FUN.” Bill grinned as the van blew up behind them. Gideon screamed and ducked to avoid fiery flying debris. “AND I WAS RIGHT!”

Gideon got into Bill’s car. There was no child’s car seat. “You better drive careful.” He warned the demon.

“AHAHAHAHA, OH GIDEON, YOU’RE ALWAYS A RIOT!” Bill struggled to shift the car into drive, and Gideon had just enough time to realize with horror that the demon didn’t really know how to operate a human vehicle before it sped off through the trees.

[xwing-baby]

Freedom (Mandalorian X Reader

Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), The Child, Reader, OC Vinca Dara

Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse, canon level violence

Word Count: 5691 

Synopsis: Y/N is a princess from a planet in the inner rim. Successfully escaping her fate as a Imperial wife, she unfortunately becomes a target for the Mandalorian. 

A/N: WOW I look pretty good for a dead bitch! I’m back after a two year writing hiatus, with a fic nobody asked for. This is my blog I’ll do what I want. I noticed that there’s not much Mandalorian stuff here, and the only stuff is all smutty and romantic. No more. Strictly professional relationships here. Basically it’s what I would write if I got to be a writer on the show. ENJOY 

Tagged: @tortles​ @inked-poet​ @dartheldur

My home planet, in the core of the galaxy, was rich and prosperous. I grew up happily oblivious to any struggle that surrounded me outside the palace walls. I grew up with two older brothers, both jostling for the throne from the age of ten. My mother died in childbirth with me, so my father ruled alone. I had no other family, as I would later learn they had all been murdered by my father and his men to ensure his unopposed ascension to power. 

It wasn’t until I was nearly sixteen years old that I learnt about what my father had done and what was really going on behind the palace walls. The only time I’d ever been allowed out of the palace grounds until that point was for public events, I would stand and wave and smile at the people who came to see us while my father gave a speech about peace and prosperity. However, on my sixteenth birthday I met a boy named Han. Han helped me escape for that one night, showed me around the surrounding city, and my life changed forever. 

A year later, I made my first escape attempt. I didn’t get very far beyond that city perimeter before I was dragged back by the royal guards. I tried again, getting to the next town before again being captured and sent back to my father. 

On my eighteenth birthday, I decided I would try once more. This time I had enlisted Han’s help, now a smuggler, to get me off the planet. I crept out in the depths of night, managed to find the ship and I was gone. That was until the captain of the ship found out who I was, held me hostage and shot me in the arm for trying to escape him and the planet. As it turned out the captain was a great supporter of my father and returned me, with a small fee for the favour of course. 

For the next year, my father kept me under close supervision. But unlike my father, I had sympathy and empathy. I managed to make friends with my supervisor, a old lady named Ellyn. She taught me a lot about what was really going on outside the capitol. The famines and the abuse from the royal guards to the local people. She also told me of the growing concern within the palace of my father’s changing allegiance from the New Republic. These concerns only grew when Storm Troopers were spotted on the outskirts of the city. 

Then I got the news. My father was intending to marry me off to Vinca Dara, the son of an Imperial officer, to aid the new Empire. I was horrified. My uncle had told me stories of the Old Empire when I was little, the pain it brought into the galaxy. The thought of having to be a part of anything like that made me sick. I had to run away, for good this time.

With Ellyn’s help, I managed to barter a ship and escape the planet without anyone realising. I reached the outer rim before anyone knew. By the time anyone had started to look for me I had landed on a new planet. 

And that brought me here. A small, dirty back street bar in the centre of the city. The outer rim was not somewhere good for a princess to be, so to avoid the risk of anyone recognising me, I cut my hair, changed my name and hid. 

Of course, a few bounty hunter’s had made their way to me. But I seemingly had luck on my side because they either gave up or I fought them off before they could capture me. The last attempt was several months ago now, I was comfortable and certain that my father had just given up. 

The bar was busy, as always. Full of criminals and outcasts from the inner rim searching the wild space to something to do, or to give them purpose again. I had to learn fast who and who not to joke with. I learnt a lot more about the galaxy in the last three months of being in this cantina than I had in my life so far.

“Hey! No droids!” I called, not even lifting my head from the sink as I spotted a glint of metal in the corner of my mind.

“That’s not a droid, you idiot,” My coworker, Tann, jabbed me in the ribs, “That’s a mandalorian!” He hissed. “Sorry, she’s new!” He apologised. The Mandalorian didn’t respond.

“New to the galaxy,” One of the creatures at the bar slurred into his drink.

“Alright Rex calm down,” I said, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know they were real,” I said quietly as we all watched the man sit down at an empty table on the other side of the bar. Rex laughed and shook his head.

“You really crawled out from under a rock or something?” 

“Just go do your job, please,” Tann sighed.

I nodded and confidently walked over to the bounty hunter. 

“What can I get you?” 

“I’m trying to find Asker,” The Mandalorian said, looking around behind me. Asker was a regular, a troublemaker and a renowned criminal, but he was paid his bill so the owners of the bar never minded too much. I wondered why the Mandalorian was looking for him for a moment before answering. 

“He left a little while ago,” I replied, “But I imagine he won’t have gone far, maybe try the hostel up the street. Can I get you anything else?” 

“No, thank you,” The Mandalorian shook his head and stood up to leave. 

“Mando!” The pot bellied Asker bellowed through the bar, announcing his presence before he waddled inside. For such a small creature he certainly knew how to make himself known. Asker was just over four feet tall, with grey-ish skin. His large eyes took most of his face that wasn’t covered by a whiley red beard. For someone so small, he was incredibly strong and quick on a trigger, the blast marks that covered the walls of the bar were testament to that. 

The Mandalorian and Asker walked together to the darker back of the bar, specifically reserved for Asker's shady business. Like I said, the owners didn’t really care as long as he paid the bills. 

“You know Mando, it’s been for too long! I missed you,” Asker cried. 

“You didn’t,” 

“No, not really,” Asker barked a laugh, “but I did miss your talent. These new hands they’ve got at the Guild? Awful! Can barely even shoot straight! I’ve been trying to get this quarry off my hands for weeks! All of the have been unsuccessful, so I thought it’s high time I call my lovely friend Mando and get some real professional on the job,” 

“I don’t work for you,” 

“Not even for half a million credits?” 

“Excuse me, gentlemen,can I get you anything?” 

“The usual, thanks darling. My metal friend here can’t drink so he’s all good,” 

“Coming right up,” 

I stepped back to the bar, and they talked a lot quieter from then. I poured the drink and walked back over, back in earshot of the conversation.

“Kids a royal runaway,” Asker said quietly. “Her father is a pretty big deal out in the Mirrin Sector. Last I heard, she’s here in hiding,” 

“Any name?” 

“Y/n L/n,” 

I put the drinks down carefully, trying not let either of the men see how much my hands were shaking. My heart was racing against my chest and I scurried away before I could hear anything else. I leant against the bar and took some deep breaths and tried to calm down. It was fine, I’d fought off the last guys I could do it again. It’s not like mandalorian are the best bounty hunters in the known universe, no. Oh stars! 

“I’m going out for a minute,” I said quickly, already walking out the back door before he could even say yes. I pulled the apron off from around my waist, shoving it into a cargo box before stepping into the bright light outside. 

I squinted and let my eyes adjust to the bright light. Looking back inside, the Mandalorian had not noticed me leave. I was safe for now. I walked through the city's crowded streets, back to where I was staying to come up with a plan. 

I smiled to myself, I’d gotten away with it once again! But four times was too many to be nearly captured by bounty hunters. It was no use anymore just moving to the city, I had to get off the planet. 

The port was quiet, as it would be late in the afternoon. Everyone was either eating or sleeping while the sun started to cool down. I tried the first few stations but each door was locked, the next was empty and the one after it was covered in druids working on the rusted shell. Then, bay 8. The door was open, there were no druids around and the ship looked in  pretty good condition. It was old, pre empire but it looked steady. I quickly checked behind me, that no one had seen me, then went inside, pushing the large gate shut behind me. I had found my ticket out of here. 

My uncle had taught me to fly when I was very little. He unfortunately was murdered by my father before I turned 12 but I cherished the memories I had with him and was extremely grateful for the skills he had passed on now. The first time I ran away I ended on a workers ship and learnt very quickly that the price to pay to get onto the ships and out alive was far too high. The blast scar up my right arm was a reminder of that. Being able to steal a ship and fly it on my own was a major boost. Unfortunately I had been caught before I had managed to leave a planet before. Now was my chance. 

I ran around the ship first, checking it out and making sure there was no one hiding on it. Now, to get inside... 

Before I could even step closer to it, the cargo load hissed and pulled open. I pulled out my blaster and aimed it at the door. I stepped onto the metal once it hit the sand, and barely had the other in step when I saw who had opened it. 

The Mandalorian. 

Shit. 

I kept my blaster raised, and we both stared at each other down for a few moments. 

“You’re Y/n L/n?” He asked carefully. 

“Are you going to kill me if I am?” I retorted. “Cus you’re not the first Asker has sent after me and I know my father wants me alive there’s no way you’re gunna kill me if you want the credits,” 

“Lower your weapon,” He commanded. I refused.

I kept it steadfast. I could do a standoff, all day. I was not going back home. The mandalorian sighed and shot once, barely missing my head, as a warning. I didn’t flinch. 

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Tin Man. Asker must have said I don’t come easy,” I jeered, taunting him. He couldn’t kill me! Wouldn’t risk half a million credits on that. The mandalorian stepped forward, and I took two steps back. “I just want to get off this planet, I’ll pay you. More than you’ll 

get for bringing me in,” 

Before I could say anymore, the Mandlorian fired a dart into my chest. I looked down at it for a moment, then back at him then fell to the ground. Black. 

--

I came too sometime later, handcuffed to the side of the Mandalorian’s ship. My hands and feet here tied. It was quiet. Looking around me, I was in the hold. A small ladder disappeared above me to the rest of the ship. I had no idea where we were, had he taken my request? Or was I on my way back to the hell hole that is my home planet. 

I had to find some way out. Someway to get myself free. I tried to move to reach a tool box so cruelly just out of my reach, but it was no use. Then I heard a little squeal from behind a box. I turned to see where it was coming from but there was nothing. Again, another squeal and a giggle? Was it a rat? I wouldn’t be surprised if there were rats aboard, the place hadn’t been cleaned in forever. But rats don’t giggle, no matter where they’re from. 

Suddenly, a tiny green creature popped up from behind the box. It peered at me for a moment, then hid again. It was so cute! 

“Hey little buddy,” I said quietly, “I won’t hurt you,” The creature slowly stepped out and babbled something at me. I didn’t understand what it said, even if it was speaking any proper language. “Where’d you come from buddy? He got you trapped here too?” The baby giggled and waddled over to me. I smiled and curled my legs round underneath me to let it get a bit closer. I didn’t see any danger in a creature so small. “Why does Mandalorian have a little baby? You’re not his kid are you?”

“Hey! Get away from her,” The Mandalorian had appeared in the hold while I was focused on the baby. The baby babbled and toddled back happily to the Mandalorian. 

“What is that?” 

“Nothing,” 

“It’s not nothing, it’s a baby,” Suddenly I remembered I had seen a drawing of a creature like that one before. My uncle told me about it, a Jedi master or something. “Do you know what it is? My uncle showed me a picture of one of those once, it was a jedi! I bet it can do weird stuff, right? Where did you get it?” 

The Mandalorian ignore my questions and picked up the creature, walked across to the other side of the hold and put it away in a large cupboard. Cruel. I became spiteful. 

“Fine, ignore me then. I’ll just report you to the Guild when I get back home. Tell them you have that thing! People would pay good money for information on a Mandalorian gone rogue! And to think Mandalorian and Jedi were enemies for years, didn’t they murder your kind to near extinction? Seems weird you’ve got one in a box as a pet,” 

“It’s not a Jedi, and you won’t tell anyone. If I find you have, I will kill you, on sight,” 

“You’ll be doing me a favour,” I spat. 

I could tell he was angry, the way his hand waved over his blaster for just a second. I should have been scared of him, deep down I was. But the fate that awaited me at home was worse than being killed by this bounty hunter. I knew we can’t be far now. I didn’t have much time left to convince the Mandalorian not to send me back to my father. If it came down to it I really would rather die. 

The Mandalorian disappeared up the ladder once more, satisfied that I wasn’t going to cause anymore fuss right now. Before I could even call after him to try and make amends and get him to actually help me, the hatch slammed shut and it was too late. 

---

A few hours later, I had dozed off but was harshly awoke by the Mandalorian shaking my shoulders. 

“We’re here,” He stated, pulling me up by the shoulder. I shrugged him off, and stood up on my own. My feet had been untied already, I rolled my ankles and sighed as my body clicked. The bounty hunter wasn’t having it, grabbed my arm harshly and dragged me down the ramp to the ground. “Come on,” 

The site of my home planet made me sick. It was happening. For months I had managed to be unknown, successfully getting away from this place. But I was now being dragged back, by a Mandalorian none the less, to be dragged through my city like a criminal. 

The Child reappeared as we stepped off the ship, babbling quickly and waddling as fast as it could. The Mandalorian grumbled unintelligibly and dragged me back up, collected the child and locked it away, pulled me back down to the soil of the planet. I could hear the creature complain from its little box and wondered if it was trying to help me. Whatever it wanted, the Mandalorian ignored it, closed the cargo door and we walked into the city gates to my family's palace. 

The site of the grand building made me sick. When I was younger I didn’t know of anything different, I didn’t know of the suffering of the people beyond the city walls. The people who worked tirelessly everyday on the lush fields only to be paid single credits for the hard labour, and all the food going to my family and court. I never knew of the suffering and poverty that my father ruled over while we lived such lavish lives inside. I had tried to explain it to my brothers after my first escape attempt, they just laughed. Said that that was just the way the world worked. There was a set order. I hated it, actively spoke out against them but all it did was get me slapped and set away to my chambers.

We were met by my father and two brothers in the great hall. Staff stood to attention around the perimeter, glaring at me like I was dirt, as I was dragged in in disgrace by a bounty hunter. 

“My daughter, you’re safe!” My father exclaimed, throwing his arms up in praise. There was no kindness or love in his voice. “Get her inside, we can’t have her escape again,” He gave a cold laugh as I was given to a new set of guards. My brothers jeered and laughed in unison with their idol. “I understand you’ve been paid by Asker to do this?” My father addressed the Mandalorian now. “Fucking idiot couldn’t catch his own breath. Here,” He threw a large bag of credits at the bounty hunter. “A million in full.” The Mandalorian nodded, putting the bag into his belt. “You don’t know how great a service you have provided to the galaxy,” My father continued with a wicked smile stretched across his wrinkling face. “A girl like her will surely be the mother of our new empire,” 

I nearly threw up, the enormity of my situation now crashing on top of me. I tried to look to the Mandalorian for help but again it was no use. I was marched off into my new, secure, chambers to await my fate. 

-- 

The Mandalorian frowned beneath his helmet but said nothing whilst in the presence of the King. He’d finished the job, there was nothing else for him to do here. He’d never got involved in politics before and now was not the time. He knew these were not good people but he was not in a place for judgement either. 

He returned to his ship, pleased with the doubling of the earnings from this trip. That amount of credits meant he could lay low for a long while with the Child and finally work out what to do with it. 

Back in the ship, the Child would not settle down. In the few months the Mandalorian had the creature he had never seen it like this. It cried and grumbled, wouldn’t sit still or fall asleep. He knew what the problem was. 

“I can’t do anything about it!” He explained to the Child. “It’s not my problem. The credits I got from that job will keep you in food for weeks!” The Child grumbled and wailed. “Go to sleep,” 

-- 4 Months Later -- 

It was a simple quarry for a quick bit of cash. The ship needed to be patched up after it had run into an asteroid field. The quarry was from a jealous man on Corellia after his wife’s lover. Easy. 

The planet was rich and bustling with people, making the Mandalorian disappear into the background. He swept through the city in search of his bounty, following the tracker in his hand. He was only slowed down by a large crowd which had gathered at the town’s centre. A small stage was set up across the square, with many people surrounding it on all sides. People even hung out of their windows to listen and watch what was going on. 

A familiar face on the stage caught the Mandalorian’s attention. It was Y/n. Now looking like the shell of her previous self. A black cloth covered her head and moth, leaving only sunken sad eyes on show which were covered in gold makeup. She stood smaller, next to a man talking passionately and animatedly about something. The surrounding chatter from the town’s people drowned out what the man was saying.

The Mandalorian carried on on his mission, shaking off any guilt he had. Bad things like this were always happening throughout the galaxy. There was nothing he could do. 

- --

My new life as Vinca Dara’s wife was awful. Far worse than I had ever dreamt. 

I was dragged from planet to planet, city to city trying to recruit and inspire rebellion. We travelled to the furthest reaches of the galaxy, as far from the New Republic as possible to try and gain sympathy for a new regime. 

I was miserable, abused and exhausted. My husband’s forcible attempts at producing an heir were proving futile and he was getting restless. It was like my body even rejected the idea of giving him a child. I figured it was only long before he killed me. He’d been close before when I lost the last child. 

This was a big event. There were already a large group of rebellion supporters on the planet and Vinca Dara and his team were hopeful. I was to stand next to him, looking pretty while he addressed the city, then be his arm candy to a private event with the planet’s leaders. 

The evening’s event was filled with the planet’s most horrible people. I wore a tight royal blue dress, my hair down and flowing over my bare back. Vinca Dara had left me to my own devices a little while ago, instructing me to convince some of the ladies of ‘our’ new ideas for the galaxy. So I stood and mingled with the guests wive. They were not interested in politics and rather talked back local gossip which was rather refreshing after months of nothing but plans of death, destruction of the New Republic. A little alarming that they did not care, but I welcomed the break nonetheless.

As I listened to the women, my eyes wandered around the party. Many different species and races all in one room with staff waiting hand and foot, scurrying between the clusters of people. Then, something caught my eye. A flash of blue baskar, glinted in the light from the corridor just outside the room. That had to be the Mandalorian! I thought I had seen him in the city but I thought I was imagining it. He was here! 

“Excuse me ladies, I just need to freshen up,” I excused myself from the group and went to find him. This was my chance. Summoning all the courage I had in me, I followed him. 

It took a moment to work out which way he went but a sharp shot from inside one of the servants quarters told me exactly where it was. He was lucky the party was so loud, I thought. 

Checking nobody was following me, I carefully pushed the door open As soon as I entered the small dark room the Mandalorian held his gun to my face, finger on the trigger ready. I threw up my hands and pushed myself back against the door. 

“Don’t shoot!” I exclaimed. The Mandalorian did not lower his gun. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I-I’m hosting the par-,” 

“Here, I mean here right now,” He interrupted, obviously agitated. 

“I need your help,” I said honestly. The Mandalorian didn’t reply, but lowered his gun and returned to the dead body on the floor. “Please. My husband will kill me if he doesn’t get a child soon and… and I can’t do it. Please, I need to get off this planet. Away from him,” 

“I’m working,” 

“I’ll pay you!” I exclaimed desperately. “I’ll give you everything I have. I just need to get out of here, out of this solar system,” The Mandalorian stopped and looked at me for a moment, the helmet completely unforgiving in guarding his expression. “Please,” My bottom lip began to tremble and tears welled in my eyes. 

“No. Go back to your husband,” The Mandalorian turned back to his task. My desperation turned to anger in that moment, I stormed over to him. 

“You know he’s been looking for the Child,” I said spitefully, looming over him as he knelt down with his victim. The Mandalorian looked up at me and stood up slowly. “That green thing you keep as a pet? If you won’t help meI will go to him and tell him you have it, that you’re on this planet,” 

“Are you trying to blackmail me?” 

“Help me and Dara will never know,” I said slowly, staring directly into his visor. 

The Mandalorian was quiet for a moment, I held my breath. This was it. My last chance at freedom and even this was the man that brought me to be in this situation in the first place he was my only hope. 

“Put that on,” He finally said, gesturing to the pile of servants' clothes piled on a table to the side of the room. “And help me move this body” 

I nodded quickly and moved to the clothes. I untied the neck of the dress, the bounty hunter respectfully turned back to his victim as I undressed. The clothes were far too big and made of a very itchy material but I didn’t have much choice. I tied my hair up in a ponytail. The only reminder of who I was, was the gold makeup across my face and sandals on my feet. 

I stood on look out while the Mandalorian pulled his bounty into a bag and dragged it out the building. A transporter waited outside. 

“Take that one, with the bounty. My ship is out on the east fields. You’ll see it,” 

“What about you?” 

“I’ll meet you there,” 

I nodded, unsure of why he was trusting me with his bounty but it was the easiest way to go out of the city unnoticed. I dodged in and out of people on the streets, finally coming to the East gates. Two guards sat asleep at the post and didn’t even wake to see me go. As I rode out into the open land, I began to laugh. The suns were setting beautifully over the horizon casting beautiful colours into the sky. I was free! 

I sped through the fields, towards the familiar ship a little way away. The noise another transporter hummed behind me. I figured it was the Mandalorian so I didn't bother to look back until a red shot flew past my head, narrowly missing me, and exploding in the grass. I screamed and swerved violently, nearly losing all control of the vehicle. 

I turned back quickly, to see who was attacking me. My husband led a band of four guards on smaller bikes. That bastard Mandalorian must have told them I was trying to escape! 

I sped up, racing towards the hills in the distance. I skipped down between ditches and ploughed through crop fields to try and evade capture once again. They remained on my tail. 

Another two shots fired out, missing me again. “Stop! Y/n! Stop right now!” My husband called out. I held my hand up in an offensive gesture, turning back to narrowly miss a large boulder. I was getting into the forest now, it was becoming more difficult to maneuver the heavy vehicle through the trees. 

The trees became denser and I decided I could move better on foot without the extra weight. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you Y/n!” My husband screamed. I could imagine his horrid sweaty red face, that awful vein that pops on his forehead when he’s angry. I shuddered, and kept running. 

I jumped into a small creek, the water soaking the ends of my trousers and nearly bare feet. The hum of the transporters had disappeared, they were on foot. I noticed a cave and decided it would be best to hide there while they were some way behind. I crouched down and sat in the warm water, my body pressed against the back wall, hidden from sight. 

“Y/n!” Vinca Dara screamed again. This time multiple shots followed and a crash as something fell into the water. “You can’t hide forever!” 

They were getting closer. A red shot splashed into the water in front of the mouth of the cave. I jumped and hit my head on the low roof, making me yelp. I clamped my hand over my mouth praying that I wasn’t heard. I pushed myself further into the dark and shut my eyes as more shots rang out. Shouting erupted from above me and heavy footsteps splashed through the water. 

I whimpered and curled up into my knees, screwing my eyes shut, waiting for the end to come.

“I told you to go to the ship,” A metallic voice said from the front of the cave. I opened my eyes and gasped in relief. It was the Mandalorian! I pushed myself up out of the water and walked over to him, my relief turning into rage. 

“You sold me out!” I screamed, pushing him as hard as I could. “You fucking told them!” The bounty hunter remained calm, and was not at all affected by my attack.. “You fucking bastard!” 

“If I did, why would I be here now?” 

“You-,” I stopped and saw the three bodies floating in the water around us, “You killed them?” 

“I thought you still had my bounty,” The Mandalorian said nonchalantly. I smiled. 

“Thank you,” 

Seemingly satisfied that I wasn’t in any more danger, the Mandalorian turned and began to walk back to his ship. I quickly followed behind, not wanting to be left behind again. I stepped over my husband’s dead body, pleased by the multiple shot wounds that had killed him. He deserved a bloody death. I ran to keep up with the Mandalorian, and jumped back on the abandoned transporter, following him back to the safety of his ship, 

“Thank you again. And I promise I will send those credits to you as soon as possible,” I thanked him again once we were inside. I sat on a crate, and pulled the ruined sandals off my feet.

“It’s not necessary,” The Mandalorian said, his back turned to me as he put away his weapons. 

“Yes it is. I am a woman of my word, I owe you my life,” I said sincerely. The Mandalorian shut the cabinet and turned back to me. 

“Where would you like to go?” 

“I don’t care. Just drop me off wherever you are going next. As long as there's opportunity for work and a place to sleep I will be fine. I just need to be as far from all of that as possible,”

“I’m going to Nevarro next,” 

“Sounds perfect,” 

I sat in the back of the cockpit while the Mandalorian flew off the planet. I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face as the planet soon disappeared into the vast black of space behind us. I had finally made it out, with both my father and husband dead I knew no one would come looking for me. I was truly free. 

“Hello again,” I cooed to the Child as he toddled over. The baby babbled and giggled when it recognised me and raised its arms to be picked up. I happily obliged. “You’ve grown! Yes! Oh aren’t you just the cutest little thing!” I tickled its large ears, making the child laugh. “I don’t know how you get anything done with this thing around. He’s so cute!” I said to the Mandalorian. He didn’t reply. 

I shrugged it off, and went back to playing with the baby. The stress of the day finally settled in, and I yawned, absolutely exhausted. The little creature in my lap, copied and babbled at me. I smiled softly as sleep began to take over me and stroked its little head until I fell asleep. 

A rumble awoke me, we had entered the Nevarro atmosphere. I sat up from my slumped position and sighed as I stretched. The Mandalorian turned around, I smiled and he turned back. The Child was sitting on the desk, playing with a silver ball too busy to notice I was now awake. 

We landed without any trouble. 

“So I guess this is it,” I said. “I will forever be indebted to you Mandalorian,” I bowed my head in reverence, “Are you staying here very long?” 

“A few days possibly,” He said as we walked towards the small settlement. “I’ve got some business here,” We walked in silence for the rest of the way until we reached the gates. “There’s a cantina not too far from here, tell them I sent you and they’ll give you work. There’s plenty of rooms to stay in here,” 

“Thank you,” I smiled, “I will sort those credits out as soon as possible,”

“It-,” 

“I swear bounty hunters don’t usually refuse money,” I laughed. “Take it, and I’ll see you around, hopefully not too soon,” 

“See you around,” 

We shook hands and parted ways. My life had finally begun. 

[basenji18]

Massive Headcannon That I Like, Because the Writers Gave Us Nothing:

Nicholas Powers is a dude on future Eternia. He gets sent out on a mission in space, for *some* reason. His ship accidentally goes through a rift in time and space.

He lands on Preternia, just on the edge of written history, but when the planet has still been around long enough that there are artifacts which are already considered ancient, and which have stopped working. When the starman lands, they suddenly start again. Nick finds himself imbued with powers as well, like Superman from the yellow sun.

The largest ruling body on this planet, the UN Council of Eternia, the Council of Elders, traces the phenomena back to the crash site, and bring him in. They make him one of their members, counting on him to be a powerful ally. (Would love to see Nick being more slightly built and slim like his daughter, then going through a kind of permanent He-Man transformation himself.) They flatter and build him up, and tell him he has landed with exactly the right people on Eternia; lucky for him he didn't fall in with some of the others.

But Nick is distraught. His spaceship is gone, and the technology to repair it doesn't even exist in this time, and he doesn't know how to build a new one even if it did. His home is gone, his family. He's a fish out of water and time.

Enter in a young queen (I saw one fanart call her "Mal-lyssa," which I get is another "evil" name joke, but I like Melissa, I think it's cute). Queen Melissa is ruler of Zalesia, a queendom of too much size and importance for the Council to ignore, but the queen is not a member of the Council, nor do Zalesia and the Council get along very well.

For one, most of the Council is made up of traditional patriarchies. The matriarchal nature of Zalesia doesn't always sit. For another, and much more dire, the Counsel sold Zalesia out to Hordak when he was around. When he split the planet into light and dark hemispheres, they left Zalesia out to dry. What was once lush forest land turned into permanight desert.

I imagine Zalesia survived under strong leaders with solid plans in place, because imagine if suddenly the world lost sunlight. That would affect every single life. What new crops are you going to grow? What food can your population live off of in the meantime? How will it affect travel and livestock and heating and and and and...?

Rulers who could pull a people through that would have major loyalty from their followers, and an understandably major chip on their shoulder at the people who let it happen.

So no, I don't think Zalesia has a great relationship with the Council to begin with. So I don't think Melissa takes too much notice of their rules when she comforts Nick. I believe the two genuinely fall in love and marry.

Enter fucking Hiss.

I still don't get why the Council is so willing to try and pacify every single would-be world dictator they come across. If there's a prophecy that a child of the Council will overthrow him, why are any of them using protection ever? Plus, I can kinda see this as being a bylaw they didn't tell Nick about until it was too late.

"Good news! I'm gonna be a daddy!"

"You WHAT?!?"

Again, I like the idea of a matriarchy which traces offspring through the mother. After all, in all those patriarchies, there's always going to be SOME question about the legitimacy of any heirs. If a woman has a kid, you know it's hers. So from the Zalesian standpoint, I think it would be a great cultural point if no one considered that Nick had broken the treaty, because under their laws, the child was the queen's.

(I also don't like her dying in childbirth, because it's overdone, and also how you gonna tell me this man controls gods and can't save his wife? That's a Queen Amadala-level copout. There's literal magic in this world, NO OTHER MotU character dies in childbirth, seriously. Try again.

What I really want to find a way to do is have Hiss set his sites on Zalesia, and instead of believing in the Council like her husband does, Melissa goes out to the desert to find help another way, and in some fashion or another becomes Shokoti. Anyhoo.)

The Faceless One transformation really pisses me off, and makes me discount the "good" guys of MotU. Because they could have killed him. They could have killed him, or let Hiss finish him off. Instead, the Council lets Zalesia be destroyed, LEAVES THE INFANT TO DIE IN A FIRE, but they don't kill Nick. Oh no. Because then their magical artifacts might stop working again, you see. So they make him immortal, and unable to ever leave. Trapped, and used as a not quite dead, not fully alive battery.

So what I wanna see is after Price of Deceit, Lyn joins up with He-Man, in full snarky and distrustful Lyn mode, they have to run from both Hiss and Skeletor, and He-Man's people who don't know what's going on. At some point He-Man as a personality is separated from Adam, which lets that go full enemies to lovers, and even though she doesn't do it like anybody else would have, Lyn does manage to fulfill the prophecy and bring down Hiss. She and He-Man go to the future, found New Zalesia, Adam is left to rule current Eternia, and Lyn goes Terminator and sends her own father back in time.

BAM. *mic drop*

[sanctuaryforalluniverses]

Getting inside Danny Williams’ brain, movie edition (“Partners” DVD extras)

For those of us who write fanfiction, one of the weird world-filling-in activities we sometimes have to do is try to come up with a comprehensive list of a character’s preferred leisure time activities. Sometimes they’ll give us hints on the show, but in most cases the show focuses far more on what they do at work than what they do during their off hours. Fanfiction, on the other hand, is often written about a character’s off hours, leaving us writers to gather clues and try to extrapolate from there.

Which is how I ended up having a very weird weekend trying to come up with a definitive list of movies I was certain Danny would really like. Because I honestly don’t think he’s a huge movie watcher (his go-to “crap there’s nothing on TV” option is usually sports of some kind) but he’s got too much movie knowledge not to appreciate the medium at least a little. Unlike Steve, Danny’s response to being forced through several different romance movies was to analyze them, deconstruct the various tropes, and learn to predict them in other movies. Casual viewers, in my experience, just don’t DO that.

Also, the one movie we know he loves, “Enemy Mine,” is a freakin’ classic.

The thing is, though, that it’s kind of a weird classic. For those who haven’t had the pleasure of experiencing the movie for themselves, “Enemy Mine” is a 1985 West German-American science fiction film starring Dennis Quaid and Louis Gossett, Jr. The two are pilots on opposite sides of an interstellar war, and they both crash land on the same planet. They hate each other, slowly become friends, and when Gossett’s character dies in childbirth (his species can reproduce all by themselves), Quaid’s character promises to take the kid back to Gossett’s home planet for a naming ceremony. He raises the kid for awhile, accidentally gets “rescued” and taken away from him, and steals a ship to get the kid back.

Unsurprisingly, the movie was a total box office bomb. That’s what tends to happen when a movie is really, really, good, but also completely fails to follow any conventional box office formula for success. If you boil it down to its bare essentials, “Enemy Mine” is about talking, aliens, and feelings. There’s a solid chunk of sci-fi fans who are fond of it, and count it AMONG their favorites, but it’s pretty rare for someone who isn’t a fan of sci-fi to like it. Let alone love it as much as Danny clearly does.

And Danny… there’s no way I’m buying a secret fondness for sci-fi. Someone in his life must have been a fan (I’m suspecting Matt, who I imagine must have been a big fan of escapism) but that man is so non-nerd he couldn’t casually come up with SUPERMAN when trying to put a name to his red-caped “costume” in the season 3 Halloween episode. I hadn’t even thought that was POSSIBLE. (He manages a reference much later in the series, but that’s after DC’s latest spate of movies. The marketing saturation was so dramatic at that point anyone who consumed even the most casual media couldn’t escape it).

Feelings, however… Danny’s a BIG fan of feelings. He was so openly moved when we saw him watch “Enemy Mine,” and he would ABSOLUTELY be one of those people who enjoyed sobbing over movies because he could never let himself cry in real life. Also, the man is a deeply emotional, deeply sentimental asshole, no matter how hard he tries to pretend he’s a tough guy. So if he’s going to seek out a movie on his own, it’s probably going to have to offer the same dialed-up-to-11 emotional catharsis that “Enemy Mine” does.

Also, he clearly doesn’t mind movies where the characters spend most of their time just talking to each other. Hell, he probably even loves it.

On that note, here’s a not-comprehensive-but-definitely-reliable list of some of Danny Williams’ most-watched movies, in no particular order.

Arrival

This one… Danny has to save this one for special occasions. The things the movie says about parenthood and consciously letting your heart get broken because of the sweetness along the way hits him right in the heart every single time, but there’s also a dead kid involved. Yes, she’s sort of at the edges, but we also get Amy Adams talking to her dead daughter in voiceover and it just wrecks Danny EVERY SINGLE TIME. Some of the things the movie says about choices and accepting pain also mess him up, but it touches on some deeper issues and he really doesn’t like to look at any of that too closely. It’s a beautiful, well-made movie (he WILL rant about how Adams deserved an Oscar for it), but sometimes he just can’t allow himself to get emotionally wrecked like that.

Steve only sort of understands why he gets so emotional over it. But every time they watch it together, he keeps his arms around Danny the entire time and doesn’t say a word about any tears he sees.

Beaches

Listen – I will physically fight anyone who tries to tell me this isn’t one of Clara Williams’ favorite movies. I am dead certain she watched this ALL THE TIME when Danny was growing up, and I’m sure he’s told several people that he suffered through it. But listen – lifelong friendship, massive weepiness, AND New Jersey? Danny loves this movie nearly as much as his mother does, and will absolutely watch it any time it happens to be on TV.  He’s seen it so many times he can actually recite the lines of some of the big scenes along with the movie, but is careful not to let himself do that too often.

Steve absolutely teases him about this one, but if Grace catches him watching it she’ll sometimes sit down on the couch and watch it with him. Like her father, she also likes the movie far more than she’s willing to admit to, and is the one person Danny will actually let himself say the lines with (she does it with him). For the funeral scene and the bits after, Grace will inevitably get weepy and snuggle up close to her father.

Gifted

This one is just super obvious. In the movie, Chris Evans spends the entire movie figuring out how to raise his adorable super-gifted niece despite pressure from nearly everyone to give her up, and in between tries and fails to have some kind of dating life. It’s a celebration of the fathering spirit, and Danny relates HARD to it. It doesn’t get him as teary as some of the other ones, but there are enough emotional moments to leave him satisfied.

Up

Who DOESN’T cry during Carl and Ellie’s life together at the beginning of the movie? Danny found this one when Grace was still young enough that Disney made up a huge portion of her movie diet, but he’s stuck with it even though she hasn’t. He’s actually grown to like the movie more and more over the years, and what he hasn’t realized yet is because it’s really closely tied to the fact that he got dragged to Hawaii the year after the movie came out. The idea of a curmudgeon traveling to a hellish wilderness in the middle of nowhere and finding a family and new purpose in life when he gets there just started RESONATING with him for some reason, you know?  

Bonus movie that Danny USED to watch all the time and now just can’t anymore: Ghost

Honestly, “Ghost” used to be one of his go-to movies. It’s got nearly the feels-per-minute ratio of “Beaches,” and is slightly less embarrassing for a grown man to be watching. Plus, Danny is a very intense, very specific kind of romantic, and the idea of a love that outlasted death appealed to him on a really fundamental level. Of course, he mentally classified as a fantasy, not so much because of the ghost as the idea that a married couple could actually love each other that much. But hey, who doesn’t enjoy a good fantasy now and then?

But after he and Steve got together… well, he’s TRIED to watch it in the years since. More than once, in fact. But it’s not long before he sees Patrick Swayze staying close to his wife, or trying to protect her from his murderous business partner, and thinking about how Steve would absolutely do that if he could manage it at all. Or he’ll see Demi Moore having such a tough time after her husband dies, and he can’t help but think about how destroyed he’d be if anything happened to Steve. If any of the close calls he’s had over the years were just a little bit closer. How easy it would be, even with Steve being more careful, for someone to shoot him one day.

Ever since then, he hasn’t ONCE managed to watch the movie all the way through. Eventually, he just stopped trying.

[dinoswrites]

Clothed in Light || Chapter 5: Heirloom

Arranged Marriage AU. Asra/Apprentice/Muriel. Ongoing.

| Previous | Masterpost | Next |

Five years after Kalani arrives in Vesuvia, Aunt Jay passes away.

Kalani spreads her ashes in the forest, in a remote clearing, where Jay said she’d spread her wife’s, years ago.

Aisha had offered a state funeral—and though Kalani had been touched, she knows Jay would have hated it. At first she thinks it will only be herself, Asra, and Muriel, but as she and Asra walk from the shop to the woods, urn in hand, it seems like people start walking with them. The baker, the nice couple that lives next door, the family of the little girl who liked to bring Zaru fruit… even Aisha and Salim join them, disguised from the crowd by illusion spells Kalani sees right through.

In the end, a crowd of a hundred or so people send off her Aunt Jay. Nearly every one of them has a story to tell—and it seems like this makeshift memorial takes all day, from dawn to the last creeping hours of daylight.

At the end of it all, Kalani and Asra spend the night at Muriel’s place. Inanna takes the bed while the three of them fall asleep on the furs by the fire—she sleeps with one of Asra’s hands in hers, between hers and Muriel’s chests, Asra flush against her back, and Cinis just behind her knees. She falls asleep to the steady rhythm of Muriel and Asra breathing on each side of her, the occasional crackle of the low, low fire at Muriel’s back, and the distant rain falling in the trees outside.

That’s the easiest part of it all. Falling asleep that night, out in the woods with Asra and Muriel.

She goes back to the shop the next morning. To deal with all of Jay’s belongings, she tells Asra, though she can’t imagine packing them up. The garden takes care of itself, mostly. Kai finds a few weeds and pulls them, and trims the raspberry bushes along the wall that are starting to strain their containment spell, but that only takes a few hours. And only because she takes her time.

She makes tea, and waits for her Aunt’s coughing to break the silence. She reads a book she’s read a dozen times before, and waits for Jay to wake, and ask for water. Or to tell a story, like it’s the first time she’d told it.

You’re supposed to know when your twin dies. Everyone says that.

I know, Aunt Jay. You told me already.

Didn’t know. Had—had no idea. Childbirth, of all things.

Nothing breaks the silence but the too-quiet turning of each page.

Before she knows it, she’s spent a week in that house, trying to work up the courage to sort through her Aunt’s things. But it seems silly to—where will it all go? Who would want it? So she washes all the dirty laundry, and burns the old bedsheets, and sleeps on the couch because she can’t bear to sleep on the bed, even with fresh linens her aunt never used.

Let’s go, Cinis complains at the end of that week.

“You were just outside,” she informs him, as she considers the overcrowded spice cupboard. There are three half empty bottles of anise pods—she should condense them. Save space.

She has been saying that to herself for three days.

Chase mice.

“There’s mice in the garden.”

All gone.

She sighs, and closes the spice cupboard. “I seriously doubt that.”

Before her familiar can retort, Kalani hears someone pounding on the shop’s front door.

She turns back to the stairs, frowning. It doesn’t sound like Muriel or Asra knocking—they know to just let themselves in, anyway. They both have keys.

But the knocking continues—polite, but urgent, she thinks. She thinks she can hear someone calling out. A familiar voice, though it takes her a moment to place it…

She goes to the window above the door, opens it, and peers down at a head of curly blonde hair.

“Trevor?”

The boy looks up at her, startled, hand wavering mid-knock on the door.

“Miss Kai?”

Cinis jumps up onto her shoulder and pokes his head out the window, his tail thrashing in interest.

“Miss Kai! I’m so sorry to bother you—I know it’s only been a week since the funeral and all and I know you’re not open, but my mom’s run out of that tea you and your aunt make—uh, used to make—for her migraines, and no one else even knows what’s in it…”

Cinis chirps, then jumps back into the house and runs down the stairs.

She watches him go—and then with a wry smile, she leans back out the window. “Be right down,” she tells Trevor, before following Cinis down the stairs.

Trevor is still apologizing when she unlocks the door and lets him in.

“… and she said not to bother you but she can’t even run her stall, they’re so bad, and I’m so, so sorry because I know you’re mourning and it’s important—”

She stubs her toe on the corner of the counter trying to go around it, and hisses out a curse under her breath.

“Miss Kai?”

“I don’t know why she liked it so damn dark in here.”

Mystery, Cinis supplies. He’s already up in his usual perch in the rafters, happily hiding in the shadows above one of the ever-burning lanterns.

“Mystery my ass, she was just trying to hide the dust.”

Trevor gives an uncertain half-laugh. “Is this… a bad time?”

Kalani breathes out through her teeth. She throws her hair over her shoulder—it feels greasy, doesn’t it—and finally retrieves the heavy patient book out from under the counter. “Let me just find my Aunt’s notes on your mother, here. It’s Olivia Fells, right?”

“She goes by Liv. I can… I can come back.”

She opens the book to the first page, and then immediately squints and leans as close to the page as she can get. “Her writing is atrocious… and of course it’s not in any kind of order. No, that would have been too simple.”

“You can read? That’s pretty neat.”

She summons a ball of light in her palm, and Trevor jumps nearly out of his skin.

“Also—also neat. Maybe warn a person before you do that…?”

Above their heads, Cinis chatters in an eerie imitation of laughter. She can hear him pacing along the rafter, and without looking she knows that his eyes are glowing dying ember orange, and, if he casts a shadow, that it’s bigger than a cat his size should have.

Better than mice.

“Stop it, Cinis,” she tells him. “You’re scaring him.”

“No, no he’s not. It’s uh. Part of the ambiance. Your freaky shadow cat. Endearing, really.”

Kalani spares a glance up at Trevor, who looks very pale in her witchlight.

“He’s not gonna eat me, right?” he whispers.

Maybe, Cinis says.

She can’t help but smile at Trevor. It feels… very strange on her face. Like an old muscle that hasn’t been worked in a long time.

Good strange, she thinks.

“No, he won’t,” she says, with a warning look up at Cinis.

He flicks his tail at her, but otherwise doesn’t reply.

“Cool, cool. I knew that.” Trevor rocks back and forth on his heels for a while as Kalani digs through the book. She listens to him wander around the shop, his boots occasionally clunking against some poorly placed piece of furniture in the dim lighting, Cinis following him along the rafters the whole while.

She eventually finds her aunt’s notes on Trevor’s mother—and as she digs through the cabinets to see if there’s any still made, Trevor asks, “So uh. Is your Asra hanging around, today?”

She spares him a glance over her shoulder. He’s standing in the light coming through the door, and she thinks he might be blushing.

“My Asra?”

“Well. Just so you know I’m not talking about like… the Count’s nephew, or the Asra down the street from me, or Asra the smith’s kid, or Asra who cheats at dice… there’s like a hundred Asras. Two hundred. People still name their kids after the count’s nephew—and now his wife, too, I met two Kalanis this week!”

She finds herself shaking her head. “Doesn’t make him my Asra, Trevor. If you go around saying that, people might get ideas.”

“Oh, you two aren’t…?”

She pulls open the drawer, and finds a single satchel of tea. She digs it out with a sigh—there’s only enough for two, maybe three cups in there. How could she have let this get so low?

“Not what?” she asks, distracted.

“You know. You know.”

“Just because you say it twice doesn’t mean it’ll make more sense, Trevor.”

Trevor clears his throat. “Like he. He looks at you. And stuff.”

“He looks at me.”

He throws his hands up in the air. “Miss Kai, I am fifteen, I can’t explain it for you. All I know is, Mom and her friends are always talking about whether you’re gonna marry your Asra, or that tall scary guy who hangs around all the time.”

She very nearly closes her finger in the drawer. “Muriel?”

“Yeah, that guy. Well, he’s not really that scary, I heard he always goes and feeds the dock kids and sticks up for them when the guards are picking on them—and one time he lifted a real heavy cart off a dog before it could get crushed—”

“Marry? Me?”

“Yes, Miss Kai, keep up. Anyway, I don’t think Mister Muriel’s really that scary, and a couple times I’ve seen him in here looking at you like your Asra looks at you, too. I mean, I guess you would know if he’s really scary or not, he’s your friend, too.”

Kalani stares at him. “Your mother talks about who I’m going to marry?”

Trevor lets out a long-suffering sigh. “She talks about who everyone is going to marry. All. The. Time. Oh, is that her tea?”

She shakes her head. She hands him the satchel of tea, and he gives it a tentative sniff before reaching into his pocket with his other hand. “Yeah, that smells right. No one else even got it smelling right. So Mom didn’t want to be a bother so I couldn’t get her to give me any money but I got this. As a down payment.”

He pulls a single red apple out of his pocket.

She stares at it so long that Trevor starts blushing again.

“I’ll bring more when you’re open for real, okay?”

“Apples?”

“Money! This isn’t—I know—don’t you know how a barter system works, Miss Kai?”

A half-laugh escapes her, in spite of herself. “This one’s on the house, Trevor.”

He holds the apple out, a little more insistently. “I had to fight an old lady for this apple, Miss Kai,” he says, dead serious.

She actually laughs at that. She takes the apple, and Trevor grins.

“Bye Miss Kai!” he yells, sprinting out the shop door and down the street.

She holds the apple a while longer, staring at the open door. After a moment, she takes a bite out of the apple, finding it tart, crisp, and full of sweet, delicious juice.

As she finishes the apple, she hears another knock at the door.

“I’m sorry, I know your light isn’t on,” says one of the neighbours, poking her head in. “But are you open? My husband’s quite low on his arthritis balm…”

Kalani licks the last of the juice from her fingers. “We’re open,” she says, and Cinis chitters happily in the rafters above her head.

 --

That night, she closes up shop, fills a basin of cool fresh water from the pump in the garden, and brings it upstairs.

She undresses and tosses her clothes aside. She soaks her hair, and then rubs oils into it and combs it out, over and over, until it feels healthy. And then she washes her skin, shivering, scrubbing her whole body until it’s raw.

When she’s washing her back, her eye catches a flash of moonlight where she doesn’t expect it. She looks over her shoulder for the source, and sees her own reflection staring back at her in the half-mirror hung by her aunt’s dresser.

She can see the tattoos her aunt gave her, a few months before she got sick. They start on her left arm, continue over her shoulder, and then travel down her back, tapering off at the base of her spine.

There’s a sun on her shoulder blade. It’s the largest symbol—she knows what half of them mean, she thinks, but the sun in particular her aunt had been most clear on.

With every morning, the sun rises. With every night, the sun falls. It is the heart of all magic—the source of light, life, and energy, and where all energy returns, like the breath in our lungs, before it must once again leave. No matter how it changes, to matter what happens to it once it has left, it always returns to the heart.

Life is like that too, Kai. Live long enough, and you’ll see the same patterns, different people going through the same motions, over and over. A little different each time. Repetition is the sun’s way of grabbing our attention—of telling us that something is important.

When you notice something repeating, time and time again—when you find yourself moving in circles, stuck in a cycle you cannot free yourself from—pay attention. To what is different, and what is the same.

So. Here she is—without a mentor. Alone, in a room, trying to pick up the pieces, and at a loss of where to start.

Well. Not alone. There’s Cinis, curled up on a pillow nearby. And Asra and Muriel have both been dropping by every day. Asra keeps asking if she’d like to go into the woods for a while or if she needs anything, and Muriel is always just… there. Silent, but present.

And then there’s the customers—the townspeople. Nearly the moment her shop was open this afternoon, she’d had a lineup out the door. Half those people just seemed like they were checking up on her, more than anything.

She takes a breath, holds it, and lets it go.

So she’s without a mentor again. But she still has a place in this city—she hasn’t been uprooted from her whole life, dragged halfway across the world. She still has Cinis, Muriel, and Asra, Trevor, Asra’s parents, and all the people who visit the shop.

She looks in the mirror, and thinks—thinks about cycles, and things that are different but the same. And then she looks around the room, at her aunt’s things collecting dust, the mess made of the couch where she’s been sleeping, and takes another steadying breath. And then she wipes away the few tears she’s shed with the heel of her palm, before she stands, gets dressed in clean, fresh clothes and ties her still-wet hair up in a bun.

By the time Asra and Muriel knock on the door, she’s set up her distilling equipment, and has started mixing more medicinal tea for Trevor’s mother.

 --

Asra is walking Kai back to the palace for the first time in… a long time, tonight.

When Zaru passed, and Jay got sick, Kai refused to leave her side. And when Jay passed, Kai stuck around the shop a while longer—claiming she wanted to go through her Aunt’s things and tidy up, but Asra thinks that she just… didn’t know what to do, except go back.

He and Muriel had both checked on her every day—and the last five, the shop has been open, with Kai frantically trying to restock everything she’s low on. Selasi the baker has been dropping by in the evenings with leftover pumpkin bread since the shop reopened, and she, Asra and Muriel have all scarfed it down, leaning away from counters covered with brewing tonics or distilling oils, or herbs being crushed.

“I didn’t know her stock was so low,” Kai had confessed the first day the shop was open, clearly overwhelmed. “And I didn’t know her notes were so disorganized—I nearly gave someone the wrong pain salve today because she misspelled their name!”

“How low?” Asra had asked. “All these jars look full…”

“Those are the specialty ingredients. For spells and such—the expensive kind. But things that people some here for most of the time—yarrow, sage, witch hazel, dandelion root, valerian…”

She had handed Asra the empty jar of nettle leaf to prove her point.

“And she fell so behind on actually making everything, not to mention how long we were closed for so most people have run out… I don’t have time to go find everything I need, let alone keep up with production.”

Muriel had cleared his throat. “I know where that grows,” he had said. “I could find some for you.”

Asra had watched as Kai’s face lit up with obvious relief. “Could you? That would be—Muriel, that would be so much help.

And Asra had watched with amusement as Muriel’s face began to flush. “No big deal,” he had muttered. “I’m... happy to help.”

“Of course I’ll pay you,” Kai had said, darting around the counter again. From under it she had produced a wooden box full of a truly odd assortment of items. A lot of fruit, what looked to be a piece of a fence with flowers drawn on it, and a significant amount of cobalt blue fabric. “With uh. Coin. Which I’ve put somewhere in all this… But you can also pick from this if you like. Some of it is very interesting…”

Muriel had only blushed even more. “You don’t need to… It’s no problem.”

“Of course I’m paying you, Muriel, don’t be ridiculous. Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you have to run all over the forest picking herbs for me and not get paid for it.”

Her head was down while she dug through the box, and she couldn’t see Muriel’s fond, embarrassed, and very small smile.

Walking beside her now, five whirlwind days of medicine prep later, Asra doesn’t know how Kai hasn’t noticed all the little smiles Muriel has given her over the years. It seems like her head is always down, or she’s always preoccupied, or fussing over her cat or a cut on Muriel’s arm he hadn’t noticed, or teasing Asra or being teased by Asra…

He wonders if Muriel’s noticed all her fussing. How proud she is of him. How his presence calms and steadies her. How all he has to do when she’s overwhelmed is speak up and offer help, and she immediately beams up at him, bright and happy.

Asra’s spent five years noticing. And holding his breath, each and every time—wondering when they will both realise how perfect they are for each other.

“I can’t believe Muriel found so much in five days,” Kai is saying as she turns her pumpkin bread over in her hands. “And I can’t believe how much we made in five days! I think we’re almost fully stocked, Asra!”

“You keep saying that,” he teases. He’s already wolfed down his loaf, as they’d both forgotten to eat at all that day, but his stomach still rumbles. They’ll have missed dinner at this point in the evening, and they’ll have to raid the kitchens on their way back through the palace.

“I’ll have to do something really nice for you both,” she continues, reaching up to scratch Cinis’s chin where he lies across her shoulders. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Not gonna lie, I’ve been really eyeing that decorative fence post…”

She laughs. “I can’t believe my aunt was accepting that as regular payment, but it’s in her notes. What was she doing with them all?”

“Building a fence?”

They both laugh at that—and Kai winds one arm around Asra’s, as comfortable as ever, walking closer to him as a chill wind rises off the ocean and winds its way through the city.

His face grows warm. He… had gotten used to being close to her. They’ve shared a bed for five years—they’ve danced at every anniversary of the wedding that brought them to be friends, as the Nephew of the Count and his Wife, but also as Asra who reads Tarot and Kai who helped her Aunt run her magic shop. And now apparently runs the magic shop.

They haven’t shared a bed for over a month now. But they’ve been crammed in such close quarters the last five days, trying to make as many salves and teas and tonics as they can before people come in and ask for them—and he has noticed an electric shock every time she bumps into him, or slides past him, or their hands touch as they reach to turn off the burner at the same time…

Did her touch always feel like a beam of sunlight after a thunderstorm? Did it always spread warmth through him like curling up next to a fire on a cold day, and he just never noticed until it was gone?

“Did you know that Trevor’s mom gossips about us?”

Asra starts. “Who?”

“You know. Trevor who’s always hanging around—the blonde one, with the little sister. His mom has migraines.”

He doesn’t, but he suspects it doesn’t really matter. “What kind of gossip?”

“Apparently about whether or not we’ll ever get married.”

Asra nearly trips over his own two feet, and Kai bursts out laughing as she steadies him.

“Relax, Asra!”

“Married? You and me? That’s—I mean we are, technically, I guess, but uh—you know we’re just friends, Kai, I know we’re just friends, anyone could totally see that—”

She’s still laughing. “I’m not done! Apparently the talk of—well maybe not the town but I guess some people who come to the shop—is whether I’m going to marry you or Muriel.”

Asra clears his throat and tries to pretend to be surprised. “Muriel?”

“No one knows his name, they all just call him the big one, or something. Should I start telling people his name?”

“Maybe he would like that.”

She looks up at him, brows furrowed. “Asra, I’m pretty sure Muriel would hate that.”

“Oh, not—I meant like. You know. Getting married.”

She blinks owlishly.

Asra’s face feels like it’s on fire. “You know. To someone. Like people do.”

Kai very suddenly gives him a sly smile. “Well, you know. Now that you mention it, I think he’s interested in someone.”

Asra pretends to cough. “Really? He didn’t say a thing to me.”

“Or me. But I think he’s been sweet on someone for a long time...”

“Would have to be someone close,” he says, nudging her with his elbow.

She tilts her head, and seems to be giving it thought, but her smile is strangely sly. “Oh definitely.”

“Someone he’s known for… years.”

She bites her lip, but it only makes her smile more obvious. “We probably know them, too.”

“We’d have to! I mean, I don’t think he knows anyone we don’t know.”

Kai gives him a look then, an incredibly fond look, before sighing and shaking her head. “I guess we’ll just have to wait until he tell us.”

Asra’s heart twists, and his throat feels tight. “Yeah. We’ll just… wait. I guess.”

“Oh! I never asked, but what did you tell everyone at the palace the whole time I was gone?”

“Oh, Mom just told everyone you were sick. Half the staff thinks you’re pregnant and the other half thinks you’ve eloped with that mysterious guard who only shows up during the Masquerade.”

She giggles. “Oh no—should we tell Muriel that he’s a bit of an urban legend, or would it freak him out?”

“They think he’s a ghost. It would freak him out.”

“Well, you did turn him invisible in the middle of the ballroom.”

“That was one time! He was panicking and we needed to get him out of there!”

“I know! All I’m saying is that didn’t really help the ghost rumours.”

They laugh for a bit, at that. At the memory—and Asra can’t help but think, maybe she should. Maybe “Kalani” should just… elope with a ghost, or something. Disappear. Cause a huge scandal, and never be seen again. Then Kai could live in her aunt’s magic shop, and Muriel could go and find her herbs, and bring them back. And maybe then Muriel and Kai could get married, and Muriel would move into the shop instead of being all alone in the woods…

Asra could visit them both, whenever he liked. That would… that would be nice, he thinks.

“Did anyone try to come visit me?” Kai asks.

“Uh, yeah, mostly the staff. I had to eat a lot of soup and my mom pretended to be you once or twice. Your father’s sent a letter.”

She makes an annoyed noise in the back of her throat. “Why doesn’t he just stay gone? What about your uncle?”

“He uh—he was weirdly cool about it at first? Been asking about you a lot recently, though. I think something’s bothering him. He keeps being real weird when we’re not all at court.”

“Weird how?”

Asra reaches up and runs a hand through his hair. “Like… unsettled. I don’t think any of the courtiers notice, just Mom and Dad and I. He keeps looking at your empty chair, like it’s a problem.”

Kai frowns. “I’ve never been very attentive at court before, I don’t see why it should bother him now.”

“Well, this is really long time to be gone. Maybe he’s taking those ghost elopement rumours a little too seriously.”

“Ghost elopement.”

“Or maybe it’s that army that’s been in the area.”

“Army?”

Asra shrugs. “Some kind of mercenary band. A big one—they’re not near Vesuvia yet, but they’ve been sacking a lot of smaller cities to the west. The Pontifex is worried they’re coming this way.”

“You think they will?”

“Don’t know. The Consul was just arguing that the cities they’ve attacked are nowhere near as big as Vesuvia. They seem to have a couple mages who know some pretty good blocking spells, so Mom’s having a hard time scrying on them. We’re waiting on the latest reports from the scouts.”

She’s still frowning. Cinis starts purring and rubbing his face against her cheek.

“Hey,” Asra says. He pulls his hand from his pocket so he can give hers a squeeze. “It’s not a big deal. They’re probably not even coming this way.”

She exhales slowly. “Yeah,” she agrees. “Vesuvia’s too big, too well protected. A mercenary band wouldn’t risk it.”

Even so, she grips his hand tight a while—and walks a little closer to him than normal, as they lapse into a less than comfortable silence.

He doesn’t mention it. He just holds her hand a while longer, and walks with her, and tries not to worry about it, himself.

 --

Life settles into the most bizarre routine Kalani could ever have imagined, after that.

Count Sahir becomes increasingly uneasy the longer she is away from court and council meetings. She attends them when she can, but also tries to keep the shop open at least three days a week. Once the initial rush of orders settle down, people seem fine with that—though it often means late nights for her and Asra, as they struggle to keep stock at a decent level.

Muriel still brings her herbs and other magical ingredients. He brings her water from a clear spring, and spends a whole week collecting enough morning dew to fill a jar, and one day brings an armful of shed antler and sun-bleached bones he’s found around the forest. He brings bark from an ancient tree, from a young tree, moss and lichen, and any number of mushrooms he’s found growing.

Kalani oils the rusty hinges on the shutters and shakes all the dust off the curtains, and she starts opening some of the windows in the shop during the day. It does have the unfortunate effect of highlighting all the dust in the place—and illuminates some of the shop’s more frightening objects a little too well for her taste—so she reorganizes the display items, putting some away in storage and bringing others out that reflect light. Cinis complains that he has fewer places to hide, so she clears off the top shelves a little, which pacifies him. It helps, a little—it’s still too dark by far, and she starts putting money aside for curtains that let more light in.

They turn the back room of the shop into a tarot room—and Asra tells fortunes with the beautiful deck of cards he’s finished, when he’s not napping or helping Kalani maintain stock. He sometimes searches for ingredients with Muriel, on slow days when Kalani kicks everyone out so that she can painstakingly re-write all her aunt’s notes by hand. He and Muriel always show up at the end of the day with baskets full of supplies, and a loaf of pumpkin bread for each of them.

“I got this weird mud,” Asra yells up the stairs one particularly rainy day, shortly after she hears him and Muriel stomping through the door. “I think it’d be great for concealment spells.”

Kalani rolls her eyes affectionately as she stirs the stew on the stove. “Please tell me there’s no snails in it.”

“That was one time!”

“There aren’t. I checked,” Muriel calls up the stairs in his familiar, rumbling voice.

“Thank you, Muriel. You two are just in time, dinner’s ready!”

Asra runs up the stairs while Kalani thanks the stove salamander, and then she’s distracted by greeting Faust, who insists on having many chin scritches to make up for missing them all day. Muriel usually lingers a little when it rains, having to try to dry off Inanna a little and get the mud off her paws, since she doesn’t like Asra doing it. But he and Inanna join them eventually—and of course Kalani has to greet Inanna properly, and scratch her ears and agree how awful it is that her paws have to be wiped, how awful it is to be out in the rain all day.

She looks up to see Muriel lingering at the top of the stairs. He’s still waterlogged from the rain, but he’s smiling as he watches her with Inanna—that fond little smile she’s become familiar with, over the years. The one that makes her chest feel warm, every time she sees it.

One of her regulars was asking about him, today. There was significant eyebrow waggling involved, but Kalani didn’t have the heart to tell them that he’s in love with Asra.

Hard to remember that herself, when he smiles at her like that.

His smiles never lasts long, though. He always catches himself when she sees him. This time is no different, as he mumbles, “Let me get that,” and goes to take a cloth in his hands and lift the pot off the stove.

He sets it on the coffee table that Asra’s already prepared, and then starts to spoon out big, heaping portions for everyone.

“You wouldn’t believe the rain,” Asra says as they all sit down. “It was pouring all over the place. I think the river was three times its normal size today!”

“Not that big,” Muriel corrects, gently.

“You should know, you fell in it.”

Kalani looks back at Muriel with a spike of alarm. “You fell in the river?”

Muriel blushes, and looks down at his stew.

“We spooked a deer when we were searching for ingredients. It tried to run out into the river to get away, and got stuck. Muriel had to go get it out, but he fell in a couple times getting out there.”

She examines Muriel a little more closely—there’s more than a few holes in his shirt, she can see the beginnings of a few bruises from where he fell, or maybe even from the deer kicking him when he helped it. But none of it looks very serious—he looks as whole and hale as ever.

“You could have been hurt, Muriel,” she tells him, while he avoids her gaze and blushes.

“It wasn’t deep,” he replies, and then promptly stuffs his mouth with stew.

She knows she won’t get any more out of him, so she shakes her head with a fond smile, and then turns to Asra. “While you’re here, do you mind looking at the lamps downstairs? I’d like them to burn a little brighter if you can manage it, it’s still too dark down there to see anything when the sun’s not at the right angle.”

He makes a face. “Your aunt’s spells are so complicated. You understand them way better than me—why don’t you give it a try?”

She runs her thumb along the edge of her spoon, and tries to ignore the tightness in her chest. “I’m no good at fire magic,” she tells him.

Asra sighs. He looks at her for a moment like he wants to say something—but then he glances at Muriel.

Muriel levels Asra with a look. So Asra only shrugs, and tucks into his food again. “Alright,” he says, “I’ll take a look. But you have to help me figure out the structure—it’s all circles and it makes me dizzy.”

“I think it’s the same basic structure as all her spells—let me grab some paper, I’ll draw it out for you.”

She and Asra finish their food downstairs, bent over paper and charcoal, while she draws and explains the cyclical nature of most of her aunt’s spells. Faust wanders between them as they work, sometimes on her shoulders and sometimes on Asra’s, while Cinis wanders occasionally across the page, getting charcoal paw prints everywhere no matter how many times she scolds him.

At some point, she and Asra take one of the lamps down and take it apart. She holds two of the pieces up so they don’t fall and break, while Asra turns one over and over in his hands—examining the spellwork etched into the glass with a fine, fine knife.

“I don’t think I have anything this fine on me,” he says. “Might have to ask my dad—I think maybe a diamond would do, he has a couple this delicate… I think. This is a weird symbol, d’you know what it means?”

They both lean closer at the same time, and she peers down at the glass.

“Oh, that’s from our family. It’s part of the sun—I have one on my back, if you want to see it bigger.”

Asra clears his throat. She glances over at him—realising that he’s very close, all of a sudden—and sees his cheeks darken.

“Should you uh—should I be learning stuff like this? Family spells and that kind of thing? The only time I heard your aunt talk about it, it seemed like a big deal…”

There’s a dark smudge of old dirt on his cheek—probably from the lantern. So she reaches up and wipes it away with her thumb, without even thinking twice.

His skin is… very soft. And grows warm, under her touch, as his eyes grow wide, and his mouth hangs open a little.

In the half-light, his skin is golden, and his eyes shine brighter than the lepidolite hanging from her throat.

So maybe her hand lingers a little longer than it should. Maybe she stares at his eyes a little longer than she means to—lost in the light they catch, and reflect back at her.

She gives a half-shrug. “You’re family,” she tells him, her voice low, like she’s telling him a secret.

She hears noise at the foot of the stairs—and she and Asra both turn, startled, to see Muriel standing there, pulling his waterlogged cloak from the coat rack by the garden door. Inanna pads over to Kalani and headbutts her shoulder until she reaches up and scratches her behind the ears, holding the glass panels still with one hand.

“Are you going already?” she asks. “You just got here…”

But as soon as the words come out of her mouth, she glances towards the window and finds the street outside dark. The sun’s set—she and Asra must have been down here for an hour at least, without Muriel.

“Muri,” Asra says as Muriel crosses the room to the front door, “why didn’t you come down earlier? You didn’t have to hang around by yourself.”

“Did the dishes,” Muriel grumbles as he swings open the door. “Bye.”

Inanna huffs, and reluctantly leaves Kalani to join Muriel.

“Hold these,” Kalani says, and Asra scrambles to grab the panels before she drops them.

By the time she reaches the door, Muriel’s crossed the street and is nearly in the alley.

“Muriel!” she calls, just as he vanishes around a corner.

She sees Inanna pause and look back, her eyes reflecting the light coming through the open door. But then her dark shape blends in with the shadows and the rain, and Kalani loses track of her too.

She almost chases him, in spite of the rain. Almost. She takes a single step, and her foot nudges against something on the stair—a satchel of herbs, in cloth and twine.

Asra steps past her, shrugging on his coat. “At least this time he told us he was leaving. Muri! Wait!”

He darts off after Muriel, a barrier over his head to shelter him from the rain. He yells Muriel’s name again as he scrambles around the corner, Faust slithering as fast as she can through the mud after him.

Once Asra’s out of sight, Kalani bends down and picks up the satchel. She turns it over in her hands as Cinis jumps up to lie across her shoulders.

“This time,” she murmurs to Cinis.

His tail brushes against her left shoulder blade.

She stands, holds the satchel to her chest, and stands in the doorway a while, looking out into the rain.

 --

Asra’s been carving two figurines in his spare time for a while, now. He puts them aside every once in a while, only to pick them up again weeks or months later. He thinks he’s been working on them a year maybe, on and off. He’s not sure.

In the week following Muriel storming out into the rain, Asra has spent every spare moment he has in solitude, Faust napping in his clothes, a knife in hand while he hunches over the figures.

The bear is already complete, and it rests on the rooftop beside him while he etches the last of the jaguar’s spots. It’s almost like he knew the shape of it without having to think on it—because once he settled into finishing it, it seemed to spring to life in his hands.

He’s restarted the jaguar three times, all tolled—the first, because he broke off the tail. The second and third because the pose didn’t feel right. But as he finishes the last of the spots, and gently blows away the sawdust, he turns it over in his hands and knows that it feels… right. The jaguar is sleek and lean, and as he sets it down its body curves protectively around the bear, head turned to look ahead at whatever might be facing them. The jaguar looks alert and attentive, and the bear peaceful, maybe even a little sad.

He looks at them a moment longer, and takes a deep, steadying breath.

It’s been exactly a week since he last saw Muriel. Since he chased Muriel down in the rain, and had tried to explain, stammering—It’s not like that Muri, there was… I know you like her, I would never—

Go be with her, Muriel had snapped, his voice shaking. Go be with her and forget all about me, just like you want.

With the sun peeking through the clouds over his head, Asra looks down at the two figurines, his stomach twisting.

His bed is so big, and lonely, the nights that Kai stays at the shop. And it never feels so full or complete but for those nights during the Masquerade where Muriel, exhausted, passes out on the bed with them.

But every year, when the Masquerade is done, Muriel is so clearly relieved to return to the woods. To go back to his life, and his chickens and Inanna. Even when Asra and Kai join him, and take a breather out in the forest just to get away from all the noise, he doesn’t even pretend to mind if, each year, they stay a little longer than the last. They talk late into the night, go out into the fields and watch the stars together, and Kai and Asra always take turns teaching Muriel to dance in the clearing around his home. They spend whole days just exploring, coming back to the hut with arms full of magical ingredients just as often as nothing at all.

Those weeks following the Masquerade, Muriel smiles more. He talks more. He pushes Kai into the water when they go swimming in the hidden spring when she hesitates, and sometimes he spins her when they dance at night, where only Asra can see. Muriel and Asra help Kai comb out her wet hair, and Asra helps Muriel when he’s missed a spot shaving, and when they lie on their backs and watch the stars Muriel asks Asra to tell him all the old stories he used to tell when they were kids.

Sometimes Muriel tells his own stories, from before they met—ones he can only half-remember. And he falters as he does, his voice dropping low and rumbling as he tries to tell them, in a way that makes Asra’s breath catch, every time.

But Kai, eventually, grows restless. She worries about the shop, the garden, or her aunt, and says she misses some of the regular customers, or that Cinis complains that there’s not enough mice to chase. And Asra knows his parents worry when he disappears for a while, and (the older he gets) that he should be learning everything he can from his uncle about running Vesuvia, but…

But.

Muriel grows so sullen, the day they return to the city. And Kai, whenever she is pulled away from her shop back to business at the palace, seems to grow skittish and mousy again, a cloud of uncertainty hanging around her while she sits in meetings and is asked no questions, and does not offer her opinion on state matters. Visiting dignitaries compliment her dress, or ask about her schooling, but she is always looking out the window, her mind clearly on the shop and matters there.

The last thing he wants is to forget about either of them.

But he knows he can’t keep them, either.

Still, he dithers there on the rooftop long enough for clouds to cover the sun, and the first droplets of rain begin to fall. Long enough for Faust to wake, and to sense his distress. His mind buzzes with her wordless, worrying question as she slithers out of his scarf and around his neck, wrapping herself in a single loose coil before rubbing her head against his cheek, affectionately.

Sad? she asks, when he does not respond.

“I’ll be happy for them,” he lies. But he does linger a little longer, scratching her chin. She offers wordless comfort, trying to swallow his unhappiness with her own contentedness.

Kai’s shop is locked when he arrives, the curtains drawn and only her aunt’s ever-burning magic lanterns to light the room. Asra lets himself in and locks the door behind him, frowning curiously. It’s late afternoon, but Kai’s never closed up before evening, before…

“Kai?” he calls, shrugging off his coat. “Are you home?”

Only silence answers him. He goes to cross the room to hang his coat by the door, when a piece of paper on the counter gives him pause. It’s in Kai’s precise, finely looping writing, the piece of charcoal she used still sitting on the counter next to it.

Asra,

Haven’t seen Muriel in a while, so I went to go bring him some pumpkin bread and check up on him. There’s one for you, too. Stove salamander is keeping it warm.

See you tonight.

The final letters of tonight are smeared with one of Cinis’s pawprints. He can’t help but smile down at it, even though his heart twists a little.

He takes the figurines out of his bag and gently places them on the counter next to the note. He considers, briefly, picking up the charcoal and leaving a message of his own—but, no. He needs to do this in person, no matter how much he doesn’t want to.

So he goes upstairs, and thanks Stove Salamander for the warm bread. He doesn’t eat it right away—he turns it over and over in his hands, trying not to glance outside at the afternoon sun drawing lower and lower, until the bread is cold in his hands, and Faust is slithering around the room, restless.

Forest! she insists, vibrating.

“They need space,” Asra replies, just as the lapis stone that hangs around his throat begins to grow warm.

His heart leaps into his throat. He drops the bread on the floor as he scrambles down the stairs and out into the rain—he casts a hasty barrier over himself before kneeling in the wet grass by the reflecting pool, and waits the agonizing minute for the ripples form the rain to die down and for the pool to draw to a complete, total still, its surface as clear as a mirror.

Then he casts the spell, the same one he must have cast a hundred times over the last five years, and waits for the longest five heartbeats of his life for Kai’s face to appear in the reflection. She’s looking down, the ceiling above her the familiar root-and-boards of Muriel’s hut. She looks worried, her hair tied up in a bun at the back of her head like she does when she’s working on herbal remedies.

“Kai,” he blurts, “what happened? Are you okay? Where’s Muri?”

“Asra,” she says, relieved. “Are you at the shop?”

“Yes, but—”

Asra hears a moan. Kai looks over her shoulder, and the surface of whatever water she’s speaking to him through—he suspects a bowl—ripples with her movement. But the spell holds, and she turns back to Asra. “Muriel’s hurt. He tried to clean the wound himself but it got infected. I need to reduce the infection before I can heal it.”

“Hurt? How did he get hurt?”

She’s clearly shaken by the question, and even bites her lip before responding. “I—I’m not sure. He’s got  a bad fever, so he’s not making much sense. I found a helmet in the woods on my way in, but it’s not from the city guard…”

“A fever? How long ago was he hurt?”

“A few days, at least. He made me go feed the chickens before he even let me look at it—I need yarrow, for his fever, and tea tree leaves and flax for a poultice. And nettle to numb the area when I clean it—and clean bandages, he’s been using old rags instead of just asking for help like a normal person.”

That last is directed over her shoulder.

Muriel grumbles something in response that Asra can’t make out.

“You’re being ridiculous.” She looks back down at the water, biting her lip with worry again. “Come as soon as you can, okay? He’s pretty rough.”

“On my way,” Asra says, before dropping the spell and bolting back into the shop.

He’s spent so many years helping Kai with her work, that by now he doesn’t need to think about where everything is. Bandages in the drawer under the counter, flax in the basket next to the bandages, tea tree leaves on the lowest shelf behind him, and nettle in the middle…

Within the space of a few minutes, he has everything shoved into his bag, Faust safely in his scarf, and he’s bolting out the door. And then he has to turn back around at the end of the block to close and lock the door behind him, before sprinting off again.

He very nearly runs the entire way to Muriel’s house. The forest whips by him in a blur, and even when it grows too dark to see clearly in the rapidly fading light, Asra casts a light spell ahead of him so that he doesn’t trip and fall over tree roots or large stones.

He only stops when he reaches the clearing—and he aches, his skin buzzing with the spells he used to keep himself running full-tilt through the woods, no matter how exhausted he was. His limbs ache and he’s so out of breath that he’s taking deep, desperate gulps of air—but he can see Muriel’s hut now, the door ajar, and light from a fire burning inside.

As he approaches, and tries to catch his breath, he hears Kai talking.

“Muriel, I need you to stay still. Asra will be here soon, and then we’ll get you feeling better.”

“… Not coming,” is Muriel’s rumbling, utterly miserable reply.

“Of course he is, I just talked to him.”

“Told him not to.”

Kai lets out an aggravated sigh. “Is this why I haven’t seen you in a week? Because you and Asra had a fight?”

“… Not a fight.”

“Unbelievable. And what were you fighting about that was such a big deal you had to either bleed out or die from an infected wound to prove your point?”

But Muriel doesn’t respond. Asra nudges the door open, breath in his throat, and sees Kai kneeling beside Muriel’s bed, Muriel on his back, pale and pallid, his eyes glazed over by the fog of fever and his brow covered in sweat. Inanna lies by the fire, and she sees Asra immediately, but makes no move to alert Kai or Muriel—she just watches him a moment, before glancing back at Muriel.

“Just the two of you… always just the two of you.”

Kai scowls. She presses a wet cloth to Muriel’s brow, ignoring his weak flinch at the contact. “What are you talking about?”

“When he’s with you, nothing else matters.”

“That’s not true. Muriel—”

She is startled into silence when he reaches up with one shaking hand, and cups the side of her face in his palm. His thumb rests on her lips, which hang slightly open, her eyes wide with surprise.

Asra’s heart stutters in his chest.

Muriel looks up at Kai, feverish, but so, so desperate. His face twisting in pain and despair.

“Now it’s only a matter of time… Before you vanish into your world together.”

Kai only stares down at him.

“I can’t…” His voice breaks, and he takes a shuddering breath. “I can’t watch it happen. I can’t.”

Muriel wavers a moment—the kind of waver that makes Asra think he’s about to collapse back onto the bed. But then, all of a sudden, he leans up, and presses his lips to Kai’s.

Asra’s heart hammers against his ribcage, and he takes in a sharp, desperate breath.

Muriel falls back onto the bed, and his hand drops from Kai’s face. She turns, wide-eyed, and when she sees Asra she just stares at him, for the space of several frantic heartbeats.

“Asra,” she blurts. “I—when did you—?”

“Brought everything,” he says, louder than he means to. He walks into the hut only far enough to shove his bag into Kai’s arms, before turning and walking back out again.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn’t look back as he says, “I have to—to go. There’s a meeting, Mom and Dad need me. It’s important. Sorry.”

He walks back out into the rain. He tries to cast his barrier spell over his head, but his hand starts shaking, and his magic fizzles uselessly at his fingertips.

“Wait!”

He keeps walking. The rain quickly soaks his hair, and Faust complains curling tighter into his clothing to escape the damp.

Behind him, he hears Kai’s footsteps on the wet earth as she follows him. “Asra—can we just talk about this?”

“We can talk later.”

“Asra—can you look at me?”

She reaches for his arm, but she shakes off her touch. But he does turn, taking slow, uneven steps backwards as he does, trying to keep far enough away so that she can’t reach for him again. “Go back inside, Kai. Muri—Muriel needs your help.”

“He needs you too, Asra,” she blurts. She’s probably still soaked through from her journey out here, and she’s already starting to shiver in the rain, and she wraps her arms around herself, lacking a shawl or coat to protect her.

His hair is already plastered to his forehead, and when he blinks water away from his eyes he’s not sure if it’s rain or tears. “Not like you,” he says, his voice catching, as he turns on his heel and walks away.

“Asra!”

He does not reply. He flips up the collar of his coat against the rain, and walks off towards the city. Ignoring how she calls his name, again and again—until the moment he knows he’s out of sight. Then he takes off, his aching muscles screaming in protest. He runs until he can’t hear her any more. Runs in whatever direction he started in, sprinting through the trees and the undergrowth, branches whipping past him.

He collapses eventually, his body exhausted—he’s been running, non-stop, since he talked to Kai in the reflecting pool. He takes wretched, gasping breaths, and finds shelter under a broad-leafed tree, only the occasional trickle of rainwater snaking through its branches to fall on him.

The lapis stone around his throat grows warm—so he takes off the necklace, and stuffs it in his pocket.

He tugs his knees up to his chest, and buries his face in his arms and weeps, finally, great ugly sobs that make his whole body shake, and tremble. Faust winds herself around him, trying her best to squeeze him, even as she shakes with the force of their shared grief.

Asra...

“I’m not ready,” he chokes out. “I thought—I thought I was ready, but I’m not. I want them to be happy but I can’t… I’m going to lose them, Faust. I’m going to lose them both.”

Go back!

He lets out a pained laugh that sounds more like a sob. “I can’t. I can’t.”

Faust coils tighter around him then, as he cries too hard to speak. She radiates wordless comfort, and does not try to convince him to go back again—no matter how much he wishes she would.

[shadowofthemoth]

Ok your reply to me got me curious so 1) for Benvolio and Mercutio and throw Tybalt there too *^* and 4 for Gringoire because I love how you talk about him

Hahaha, this is anenjoyable yet difficult ask!

1 – Appearance:Benvolio, Mercutio, Tybalt

Mercutio – John Eyzenfrom the 2010 French revival RetJ. No competition here. I love all otherversions, including the way he’s portrayed in Zeffirelli’s film; but Iheadcanon only Eyzen’s Mercutio. Long dark curly mane, slightly crazed andslightly feminine look, very gay attitude, catlike graceful movements, wildgreen eyes, laughs like a madman, is probably a changeling. xD

Tybalt – uhh… ingeneral, tall, strong, very masculine, a trained warrior (in modern AUs –practices martial arts); large calloused hands, noble but rough features, thin lips.It’s a draw between Tom Ross from the 2010 French revival RetJ and Mark Seibertfrom the Austrian version, because I have two equally prominent headcanonsabout this character. Headcanon 1 – Tom!Tybalt: the softer, sadder, moresuffering Tybs; Tycutio is in full bloom here. Headcanon 2 – Mark!Tybalt: thishappens when I feel like exploring Tybalt’s rougher, crueler side; and in thisheadcanon, any real Tycutio is a big nope. I can expand on this sometime, ifyou’re interested; but this ask is not about ships, so that’s it for now.

And now let’s turnto Benvolio. Surprisingly, this one is the hardest, because I love so manyversions! Grégori Baquet from the original French RetJ; Syril Niccolai from the2010 French revival; Mészáros Árpád Zsolt from the Hungarian version; MathiasEdenborn from the Austrian version; Angelo del Vecchio from Cocciante’s “Giuliettae Romeo”; you name the rest… and I just can’t choose! Besides, I haven’twritten anything about him yet (apart from one poem in Russian), so I still don’thave any definite image of him in my head. When I read fanfiction, itfluctuates depending on the way he’s written by a particular author; so itdoesn’t help with making any choices, too.

But if we look atmy main RetJ headcanons… As I said, there are two of them: the one with Tycutio(Eyzen!Mercutio, Ross!Tybalt); and the one without Tycutio (Eyzen!Mercutio,Seibert!Tybalt), aka the one with Bencutio (which is actually my main ship inthis fandom and I’ll go down with it). So, in my Bencutio headcanon, I can onlysee Ben as Syril Niccolai. When I don’t ship him with Mercutio though… don’tknow, it will depend on many things. Can’t say anything more particular aboutthis – at least until I write about him (which I’m planning to do soon; the “Promise”+ “Shelter” couple of prompts needs a third part because I can’t leave my poorScaligers hanging like that).

(I know that in the pic, Syril plays Romeo; but this is the perfect illustration of my Bencutio headcanon, so I’m posting it anyway xD)

4 – Family/relationships:Gringoire

So this is how Iheadcanon Gringoire’s family. I hope you won’t object if I base this on the RPGwhere I roleplay as him?..

Gringoire’s father:a carpenter from Thury-Harcourt, Normandy. I call him Nicolás, becaue thecharacter I base him on is Claes, father of Thyl Uilenspiegel, if you know whothat is. Nicolás is the French version of that name, so I just decided I’d callhim that. A hard-working, cheerful, very down-to-earth guy; stout, strong, aruddy face, brown eyes, curly black hair (guess whom Pierre got his famous curlsfrom?), but he keeps it cropped as short as it is allowed. Nicolás is good-natured,but hot-tempered – though his family has never suffered from it. He’s a strictdad, but a natural with children – and that’s where Pierre’s ability tocommunicate with kids with ease comes from. Also, Pierre loves to watch his dadwork – a carpenter’s work is creative (but don’t you dare tell that to Nicolás,he’s just doing his job!), and Pierre is fascinated by everything creative.

Nicolás remarriedseveral years after his first wife’s untimely death in childbirth, to a peasantwoman much younger than himself. Pierre is his only child, born by his secondwife (the first wife’s baby was stillborn); and Nicolás loves them bothimmensely. He is already over 40 by the time Pierre is born, and he dies in anoutbreak of plague when the boy is five.

Gringoire’smother: a daughter of a local peasant, not particularly attractive but healthy,well-built, kind-hearted, calm, and a great seamstress. I call her Marie. Shehas long, dark blond hair, blue-grey eyes and a sweet smile. Pierre looksnothing like his mother; but the gentle, poetic side of him comes from her, notanyone else. Marie is the quiet thinker type; she takes everything close toheart and empathizes with literally everyone; and in this regard, Pierre is alot like her. He learns to love art watching his mother sew beautifullandscapes and flowers and listening to numerous fairy tales she tells himbefore sleep. Besides, Marie has a melodious, if rather weak, voice, and bothher husband and her son love hearing her sing. The way words and musicintertwine fascinates the boy no less than any other creative process does; andthat is probably when the beginnings of a great poet start to grow in his soul.

Marie is about fifteenyears younger than Nicolás; but she loves her husband very much. She givesbirth to Pierre when she is twenty-five, and dies with her husband in the sameoutbreak of plague five years later, leaving Pierre an orphan.

I imagine that theatmosphere in their family is that of warmth, trust and love; and even though Pierrespent most of his childhood and youth orphaned and alone (until he foundhimself in Frollo’s care at some point) he remembers that atmosphere well. Hewill certainly do his best to recreate it if he ever marries and starts afamily of his own.

Relationships…well, I ship Pierre with Esmeralda, but there are two options here: either wesay ‘the book is canon’ and let Esme die, or we rewrite the canon completelyand let her stay alive.

In the first case,Gringoire will eventually settle down and start a family with some girl I havenever bothered to imagine in detail – I only know that she will be verygood-natured, kind, hard-working and no-nonsense (have you seen the musical “Rebecca”?If yes, then imagine the main character (“Ich”) the way she is at the end of the plot, preferablyas portrayed by Szinetár Dóra).

In the secondcase, the events will play along these lines: Gringoire mans up and saves Esmefrom hanging (successfully this time); and they leave (or should I say, run thefuck away from) Paris. They pretend to be brother and sister at first, butgradually Esme grows to truly love Pierre – to his utter happiness, of course.I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. xD

Again, hope I didn’t disappoint you! Don’t hesitate to comment and ask about/share your opinion on anything I wrote here. xD

[ask-the-richmond-newsies]

Hello and welcome to my blog! I’d like to introduce you to the gang! 

*Disclaimer: I only follow a handful of newsies ask blogs, so if one of my characters has the same nickname as yours or any other similarities, it is merely a coincidence!

***Potential Triggers Warning! There are some death, abuse, alcoholism, racism, suicide, and attempted murder related trigger warnings in some of the backstories below***

—————– Newsie name: Chickadee Reason for name: She pretended to be a boy for the first six years because the lodging house only allowed boys to stay there. But the other newsies knew she was a girl. So, they named her Chickadee “‘cause she’s a chick.” But if anyone asked why, it was because “'he’ has a beautiful singing voice, like a bird.” Real name: Elizabeth Sanford Age: 16 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: fun-loving, scrappy, sarcastic, guarded, flirtatious, loyal, compassionate, will do what it takes to survive, has trust issues, and is still dealing with a great amount of grief  Hobbies: whittling, flirting, singing, and watching sunrises  Background: Her mother died in childbirth along with the baby when she was four. Her father died in an accident at the lumber mill where he worked when she was six. Her older brother Sal was all she had left. He got them both jobs as newsies so that he could keep an eye on her and so she didn’t have to work at a factory like a lot of other little orphan girls. When she was thirteen, her brother got a well-paying job and was going to move them into a small apartment and send her to school, but he caught pneumonia before he could. His death all but destroyed her. She became shut off and never let anyone help her. She never truly dealt with her grief. Shortly after his death, she left Richmond and began selling papes in other boroughs, never staying anywhere for too long. She learned how to survive on her own and convinced herself that she’s better off that way. She did, however, run into her old friends at the strike rally after not seeing them for about three years and will now occasionally visit the newsboys of Richmond.

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Newsie name: Fox Reason for name: he is sly and quick-witted like a fox Real name: Finley O'Connor Age: 17 Sexuality: Bisexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: confident, ambitious, sneaky, smart, determined, understanding, strategic, protective, flirty, and has issues with the concept of love   Hobbies: flirting, poker, pulling pranks, and making out. He is the leader of the newsies.  Background: When he was 7 years old, his parents and him immigrated to New York from Ireland. When he was 8 his mother was killed in a hate-crime. About a month later his grief-stricken father killed himself. When he came home from school that day, a neighbor told him what had happened and took him in for a little while. He soon thereafter found himself amongst the newsies. He was angry and confused and he hated that his father basically abandoned him. He doesn’t like the concept of love because he blames the love his father had for his mother for destroying what was left of his family. In his mind, being Irish made him motherless, but love made him an orphan. 

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Newsie name: Duke Reason for name: he’s always getting into fights and is always ready to duke it out Real name: Daniel Carleton  Age: 16 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: angry, insecure, sarcastic, always on the defensive, doesn’t know how to express himself, has a short temper, fiercely protective of those he loves Hobbies: boxing, darts, and gardening Background: He was the bastard son of a single mother who hated him. She always blamed him for her life of destitution. She verbally abused him for years and sometimes even locked him in a closet for hours when she “needed some me time” and didn’t want to deal with him. Her words always stayed with him which is way he’s always so quick to assume the worst in everybody. He eventually just had enough and ran away and became a newsie. He sometimes struggles with the guilt of leaving her to fend for herself but remembers that he had to do what was best for himself and get out.

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Newsie name: James Reason for name: He doesn’t like nicknames, he prefers “the name his parents gave him” (If he would have allowed a nickname, his friends would have called him Strings) Real name: James Emerson Age: 17 Sexuality: Bisexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: quiet, observant, judgmental, soft spoken, has a dry humor, thinks he’s more mature than he actually is, pretentious, bitter, actually kind of a romantic  Hobbies: playing his old, beat-up violin, composing, people watching, reciting Shakespeare   Background: He grew up in one of the richest families in Richmond and was given the best of everything. When his parents died in a boating accident when he was 14, he found out that the family’s financial adviser had been embezzling money from them for years, leaving his inheritance as practically nothing. He turned to family friends for support and comfort but once thy found out he had no money left, they turned their backs on him. Everything in his parents estate had to be sold and auctioned off to cover any remaining expenses or debts. Alone and destitute, he then joined the newsies to cover his cost of living.

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Newsie name: Sniffer Reason for name: he’s “part bloodhound” and can find anything Real name: “Gabriel” (( In modern au it’s Gabriel Hernandez))  Age: 16 Sexuality: Pan-romantic asexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: straightforward but not always forthcoming, he’s always honest but he doesn’t always tell you everything, he knows everything about everything, he always “knows a guy”, is a bit of a gossip, good at reading people, a realist, kind hearted but in a more subtle way, was raised Catholic but isn’t very religious anymore   Hobbies: locating and procuring rare or desired items, poker, solving puzzles and riddles, helping others Background: When he was a baby, he was abandoned at a church-run orphanage. He was raised by the nuns and given the name Gabriel. He has no idea what his real name is or if he was even given one. When he was about ten, the orphanage burned down (with no injuries) and all the children had to be sent to other orphanages throughout the city. He didn’t want to go to another one, so he left and joined the newsies. The orphanage has since been rebuilt and he still sees the nuns whenever they feed the newsies or when he comes in for weekly confession.

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Newsie name: Monty Reason for name: n/a Real name: Montgomery Ellis  Age: 17 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: laid back, funny, happy go lucky, will pretty much do anything on a dare/bet, has a big heart, and just like to have fun  Hobbies: knitting, cooking, playing chess, playing with kids  Background: He was raised by his great aunt Petunia after his father died from a lung infection and his mother died of influenza a few years after that. When his aunt got too old, she moved into an elderly retirement community. The only catch was that he was not allowed to live with her there. So, he got a job as a newsie and lives at the lodging house. He goes to visit her every Sunday afternoon.

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Newsie name: Mouth Reason for name: He never shuts up Real name: Isaiah Greenwood  Age: 15 Sexuality: Questioning Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: loud, obnoxious, eccentric, reckless, competitive, sweet, aimless and a little self conscious   Hobbies: playing marbles, playing horseshoes, playing checkers, basket weaving, and eating  Background: He grew up on a farm outside of the city with fourteen brothers and sisters. When he felt he was old enough, he moved to the city and got a job to send money back to his family, like his older siblings had before him. He goes back to visit about once a month.

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Newsie name: Pockets Reason for name: If he likes something he will stick it in his pocket and take it home, usually innocent stuff like bottle caps and seashells, sometimes small trinkets from shops Real name: Randal Davis  Age: 14 Sexuality: Bicurious Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: gets distracted easily, doesn’t think things through, likes shiny things, a little selfish, and sometimes self conscious and a little prone to anxiety   Hobbies: collecting things, occasionally stealing, playing marbles, playing checkers, and playing with his kitten Amelia aka Patches   Background: When he was younger his mom got really sick and they couldn’t afford her treatment. So, in desperation, his father tried to rob a bank in an attempt to save her life. Unfortunately, he was caught and is currently serving 10 to 12 in the pen. The judge, however, was very merciful and took pity and allowed him a supervised visit to his wife before she died. Pockets has been in the care of the newsies ever since. He gets to visit his dad in prison every couple of months. He got caught stealing himself about four months before the strike and got sent to the Refuge. He stayed there until Governor Roosevelt shut it down and freed him. He still occasionally gets nightmares about it.

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Newsie name: Poe Reason for name: he’s a writer and a poet like “that Edgar Allen Poe guy” Real name: Andrew “Andy” Reid  Age: 15 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: sensitive, quiet, shy, kind, very creative and quick witted, can be quite sassy, a true romantic at heart Hobbies: writing, reading, playing with every dog that walks by, sewing, and secretly dancing Background: His father died from an unknown illness when was a toddler and he was raised by his loving mother. She had a very kind heart and a love for stories. She would read to him every night and allowed for his imagination to flourish. She worked as a seamstress and would often take him to sit in the back room of the dress shop as she worked. He learned how to sew while he was there, but most of the time he would sit and read. There was nothing particularly special about his time spent there, but looking back it was some of his favorite times spent with his mother. She eventually took ill and succumbed to the illness. He became homeless for a couple of months afterwards, but was soon found by one of the newsies and taken in by his new family.

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Newsie name: Stars Reason for name: he “has stars in his eyes” Real name: Michael Lee Age: 14 Sexuality: Pansexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: naïve, idealistic, foolish, optimistic, adventurous, always up for learning new things, believes you should live every day to the fullest Hobbies: reading, playing chess, bird watching, and exploring new places  Background: His parents died of consumption when he was a baby and he was raised by his grandmother. He dropped out of school and became a Newsie to support them after she had a stroke. She died a few months later and he stayed a newsie. He always wished he could go back to school. And he also wishes that he had stayed more in touch with his heritage after she died.

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Newsie name: Skunk Reason for name: he’s smelly Real name: Richie Mason Age: 12 Sexuality: Too young to be determined Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: hyper, messy, excitable, slightly gullible, and can sleep anywhere   Hobbies: playing pretend, chasing frogs and ducks, playing in mud, playing tag,  Background: When he was six years old, his parents died in a factory fire along with his uncle and aunt. Him and his cousin, Robbie, were sent to live with their grandfather, who died about three years later due to old age. They soon found themselves living amongst the newsies, who treated them like little brothers and are raising them as their own. 

—————–

Newsie name: Squeaks Reason for name: He’s very ticklish and if you tickle him or poke him in the sides he’ll let out a loud squeak Real name: Robbie Mason Age: 10 Sexuality: Too young to be determined Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: adventures, curious, a little sarcastic, brave Hobbies: playing pirates, hiding in small spaces, climbing trees, playing tag Background: When he was four years old, his parents died in a factory fire along with his aunt and uncle. Him and his cousin, Richie, were sent to live with their grandfather, who died about three years later due to old age. They soon found themselves living amongst the newsies, who treated them like little brothers and are raising them as their own.

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Newsie name: Gills Reason for name: he practically lives in the ocean, can hold his breath for up to four minutes, and he can drink like a fish Real name: Jonathan Evans Age: 16 Sexuality: Pansexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: confident, kind, competitive, enjoys the little things in life, kind hearted, protective, thick skinned   Hobbies: swimming, jogging, fishing, poker Background: When he was fairly young, his mother walked out on his father and him. His father did the best he could to raise him on his own. He worked two jobs, barely making enough to feed them both, all while hiding the struggling from his son. He didn’t have a lot of time to spend with him, but when he did, he usually took him down to the beach where they could do fun activities for free. When he was about twelve his father died of a heart attack, leading to him joining the newsies.

—————–

Newsie name: Dixie Reason for name: She comes from the Deep South below the Mason-Dixon Line and is from the Alabama, aka the Heart of Dixie  Real name: Darla Dickson Age: 16 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: Sweet, hopeful, creative, and strong in her beliefs  Hobbies: hike, fish, sew, sing, dance, play guitar, and used to go horseback riding Background: When she was still living in Alabama with her family, she had been secretly dating one of the boys who worked at the stables that her family kept their horse in. His name was Theodore and he was the sweetest thing. They dated in secret because he was a black boy in the deeply racist 19th century south. Her family owned slave lest than forty years prior, so she knew they would never approve. They kept telling themselves that nothing could happen between them because it was too dangerous, but their love for each other grew and they couldn’t stay away. So they kept their affair a secret for several months until her little sister saw her sneaking out one night and followed her. She caught her sister spying and made her swear never to tell. But the next day her little sister came to her crying and apologize profusely for accidentally telling. Dixie raced to the stables to find her father beating the crap out of Teddy and when she tried to stop him, he knocked her out with a single blow. When she came to, he was in the process of trying to hang Teddy in a nearby tree. She quickly found a shovel and knocked her father out. She helped Teddy out of the rope and stole the family horse. She rode with Teddy as far north as she could before stopping to find a doctor. She traded the horse for his services and when Teddy was almost fully recovered they hitched a ride in a wagon even further north. They then made a life with each other in a small apartment doing odd jobs. But neither one of them fully dealt with the horrors of that day and there was a great divide between them. Eventually, along with other smaller issues, they decided that they couldn’t do this anymore. As much as they tried, they couldn’t look at each other without seeing the scene replay in their heads. So they sat down and said their goodbyes. They promised that they would always love each other in some way and that they would keep in touch. Teddy moved to a small northern farming town and Dixie moved to Richmond where she became a newsie.  

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Former Newsies

Newsie name: Tommy Reason for name: n/a Real name: Thomas Russo Age: 22 Sexuality: Bisexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: strong, confident, knows how to have a good time, knows when it’s time to be serious, funny, sweet, comforting, romantic, a proud Italian   Hobbies: poker, playing pranks, dancing, cooking Background: He never knew what happened to his mother; it had always just been his dad and him. Most days he felt like he and his father reversed roles, as he was always taking care of his alcoholic father. He became a newsie at a young age as he had to provide for the both of them, his father being unable to work. He’d sell newspapers every morning and then every afternoon he would pick his father up at the pub and attempt to get him home without a fight. He grew tired of this way of living and was almost relieved every time his father went to jail (for various crimes). Through the years he rose up in rank until he became the leader of the Richmond newsies, a feat he was justly proud of. He has had less and less contact with his father throughout the years, he much prefers to focus on his true family, the newsies. After “retiring” from selling, he moved to Manhattan and began working at a bank and fell in love with a colleague’s daughter, who he is now engaged to.

—————–

***He is not available to interact with, but I think it’s important that you get to know him because he was a big part of everyone’s lives.***

Newsie name: Ticker Reason for name: he carried around a pocket watch that ticked very loudly Real name: Sal Sanford Age: 19 at time of death Sexuality: Aromantic Asexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: protective, intelligent, compassionate, valued honesty and integrity, stubborn, made terrible dad jokes, good with kids, got frustrated easily (mostly at inanimate objects that wouldn’t cooperate)  Hobbies: reading, going on walks, chess, playing with and reading to the younger kids, Background: His mother died in childbirth along with the baby when he was ten. His father died in a lumber mill accident when he was twelve. All he had left was his little sister Lizzie, who he was now responsible for. He got them both jobs as newsies so that he could keep an eye on her and so she didn’t have to work at a factory like other little orphan girls. The last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt or worse like their father did. As they grew up, he strived to give her the most normal childhood that he could. He was both parent and teacher to her as well as brother. He adored her and would do anything to make sure she was strong, healthy, and happy. When he was 19, he got a well-paying job and was going to get them a small apartment and would finally be able to send her to school. Knowing that there was a better life ahead of them, he had been the happiest he had been in a long time. His dreams for the future were dashed, however, when he caught pneumonia and died surrounded by his loved ones.

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Others 

Name: Emily Chapman Age: 22 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality: Background:  

Name: Caroline Chapman Age: 16 (almost 17) Sexuality: Bicurious Face Claim/Outfit: x Personality:  Background:  

Name: Hunter Andrews Age: 18 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit:Outfit: Personality: Background:  

Name: Emma Andrews Age: 18 Sexuality: Heterosexual Face Claim/Outfit:Outfit: Personality: Background:  

Name: Elijah “Eli” Greenwood Age: 16 Sexuality: Questioning Face Claim/Outfit:Outfit: Personality: Background:  

Name: Collette “Clover” Charron  Age: 6 Sexuality: Too young to be determined Face Claim/Outfit:Outfit: Personality: Background:  

—————–

Extras

Mr. Albertson -aka Big Al, newspaper distribution person

The Terrible Trio - The Trio for short, consists of Clive Parker, Edmund Williams, and Antoine Edwards; entitled rich boys who like to dick with people for fun

Old Man Reggie - lodge house owner, very old, has thick glasses, is practically blind, can pretty much get anything by him; didn’t use to allow girls to live at the lodge, but changed his mind once he caught on that Chickadee was a girl and was already living there for years

Ms. Merriwhether - the local librarian, a very sweet old lady who is fond of Poe, one of her favorite bookworms

This post will be updated as the characters develop further through their interactions with you. :)

First Update: May 12th, 2018 (one year anniversary!)  

[such-a-common-girl]

“Unrequited Love” Rick Grimes x Reader

Word Count: 2,690

Rick Grimes x Reader

Request from Anon: Can you write an imagine where its right after Rick lost Lori and he's sort of using the reader to get over her? Like he’s emotionally unavailable and he’s just using her for sex in hopes that he will get over Lori but the reader is actually in love with him

Warnings: Implied smut, mentions of death, emotionally unavailable Rick, teensy tiny bit of angst

You watch him as he walks into the cell block, covered in blood and guts. The past few days have been hard for all of you, but especially him. He had just lost his wife, and to make it worse, he has been MIA since it happened. This is the first time you’d seen him since he got the news that Lori died in childbirth.

All eyes are on Rick as he avoids eye contact with the group, going straight to his cell. He looks like a mess. You can’t help but hurt for him. You can’t possibly imagine what he is going through, but you have lost people close to you and you know that hurts.

Your sister Maggie looks over at you with worried eyes, and you know the same thoughts are running through all of your brains. Is he ok?

You all also know the answer to that question, but can’t help but asking yourself that anyways. He was gone for days, leaving the entire group, and comes back soaked in blood and not talking to anyone. Not even his own son, and certainly not going anywhere near his new daughter.

You sigh and shake your head, not wanting to stress yourself out more than you already were. You walk away from the group and go over to your little sister, Beth. She was holding the baby, who had yet to be given a name, and was feeding her.

“I heard Rick is back.” She says quietly.

“Yeah, he is.”

“How’s he doin’?”

“He’s exactly how you would expect him to be, I guess.” You shrug. “He’s goin’ through a lot.”

“And how are you doin’?”

Beth knows how you feel about Rick. Ever since he showed up at the farm, you had feelings for him. He was an attractive man, and the leadership he had just made him more attractive in your eyes. Of course, you never acted on it and you never planned to- he had a wife (or used to) and a kid. You were definitely not the kind of person to get in between that.

Once you guys got to the prison, Rick and you became somewhat friends. He’d ask you to go with him on runs or help him out around the prison, and you would do the same. There were even a few moments when he’d just break down and vent his feelings to you. He would tell you about his problems with Lori, or Carl, or just how much he hated this shitty life. You don’t know why he chose you to talk to about that stuff- he had plenty of other people to talk to. But for some reason, he just felt comfortable with you. And that did not help your feelings towards him. You knew it was wrong to have a crush on a man like Rick, but you couldn’t help it.

“I’m fine.” You hesitate to say. You’re not sure if you’re telling the truth or not. “Just glad he’s back and not dead.”

“Me, too. We needed him here.”

-

You finally get up at some point in the middle of the night. You had just been tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep. You sigh as you shove the blankets off of you and get off the bed, feeling the cold floor of the prison on your feet.

You try to be as quiet as possible as you walk out, as Judith was asleep in the next cell over and everyone would be pissed at you if she woke up again. You sneak out the door, letting the cool air of the outside hit you in the face. You close the door behind you, and begin to take a walk. Walking always helps you clear your mind, which will hopefully help you sleep. You’re exhausted.

Rick is all that you can think about. All you want is for him to be okay, for him to stop hurting. It physically hurts you to see him this way.

You’re thrown from your thoughts when you hear something move behind you. You instinctively pull out your knife, and start walking towards the dark silhouette.

“Y/N!” The figure yells out, grabbing your wrist as you go to stab them. You immediately recognize the voice and put your knife back, relief flooding through your chest.

“Sorry, Rick. Thought everyone was asleep.” You mumble.

“I did too.” He lets go of your wrist, letting it drop. “Why are you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

The two of you don’t say anything as you walk together. It’s a beautiful night- the moon was so bright you could see everything without needing a flashlight. You can feel Rick’s hand brush against yours a few times as you walk, but you know better than to look into that. It was probably just an accident.

“Well, I think I’m gonna go back to bed. Thanks for walkin’ with me.” You tell Rick. You honestly didn’t think you could go back to sleep at this point, but you can’t be around him any longer. You turn around to head back to the cell block door, but he grabs your hand before you can walk any further.

“Y/N, please stay.” His voice comes out as barely a whisper.

“O-Okay.” You stutter, not sure how else to respond. His face looks pained and his eyes are watery, making your heart instantly ache. Without thinking you pull him into a hug, holding him tight. He doesn’t do anything for a minute, and you almost pull back thinking that was too much, but he grips you back even tighter.

“You’re going to be okay. It’ll be okay.” You try to say as comforting as possible. You’d never seen a grown man seem so vulnerable. Even though you couldn’t hear it, you knew he was crying from the wet spot forming on your shoulder.

“Thank you.” He says in a hushed voice, still not breaking the embrace. At this point, the hug is way longer than appropriate, so you move yourself out of it. Rick grabs your arms and pulls your closer towards him before you could fully move away, making your heart beat even faster.

“What are you doing?” Your voice barely comes out. His forehead touches yours, and his eyes closed.

“I don’t know.”

He pressed his lips down to yours, butterflies erupting in your stomach. Despite everything in your body telling you to pull away, you kiss him back. You know this is wrong and you shouldn’t be doing it. You know that this is entirely inappropriate and he’s only doing this because it’s probably comforting. That he most likely doesn’t feel the same and this is only happening because you’re here.

But you don’t stop. You don’t stop him when he takes off your clothes, and you certainly don’t stop him when the two of you start having sex.

-

The next few weeks go exactly like that. He’ll come to your cell in the middle of the night and the two of you will sneak off to have sex. You keep trying to convince yourself that maybe he does have feelings for you, maybe he even did before Lori died. Maybe that’s why he was always around you and talking to you. Maybe he feels the same, and he’s in love with you.

You know that you’re wrong, but you don’t want to think about the real reason. You know deep down that he doesn’t love you, and that he’s only doing this with you to get over her. You’re nothing but a rebound. But you’ve loved him for what seems like since the moment you met him, and you don’t want to give this up. Even if it’s for the wrong reasons.

You’re in the middle of washing clothes with Carol when you see Rick come inside the door with Daryl, the two of them talking about who knows what. You’re sitting there trying to pay attention to what Carol is telling you, but you’re having a hard time, as you can’t stop staring at Rick. Rick’s doing the same- he’s staring at you while Daryl is talking to him, nodding his head as if he was listening.

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?” Carol snaps you out of your thoughts, and you advert your glaze away from Rick, him doing the same.

“Yeah, sorry, thought I saw something.” You lie, smiling up at Carol.

“Uh-huh.” She isn’t buying your story.

“Y/N, Daryl and I are goin’ on a run. We need you to come with us.” Rick yells over to you.

“Okay.” You set down the clothes, walking over to them.

“We’re just gettin’ some stuff for the little ass kicker, shouldn’t take too long.” Daryl commented. The three of you went outside and got into the truck. You were squished in between the two of them, Rick driving on the left side of you and Daryl on the right. It was quite the uncomfortable ride, especially with Rick’s hand on your thigh the entire time. Which also kept inching up closer and closer, almost hitting home before you got to the place where you needed to get supplies. If Daryl noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Alright, Daryl you go check in that store over there. Take anything we need, even if it aint baby stuff. Y/N and I will check this store.” Rick told Daryl, earning a grunt from Daryl in response.

Rick took you into the store, and soon as the door shut, he pressed you up against the wall and started kissing your neck.

“Rick, we can’t do this here.” You whined, but you made no efforts to stop him.

“And why not?” He bit down on your collarbone, most likely going to leave a mark.

“Daryl could walk in at any moment…”

“Well we better be quick then, shouldn’t we?”

-

The ride home was awkward and silent. Daryl undoubtedly knew what was going on in that store, as he kept giving the two of you weird looks on the way back to the prison. Plus, you two came out empty handed from that store. From the messy hair and Rick’s shirt being inside out, Daryl wasn’t dumb. He knew what happened.

You walked immediately back to your cell once you got back, stripping down from your clothes into new ones. You were about to go outside and do patrol when Maggie came up to you, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Can we talk?” She asked, not waiting for an answer before sitting on your bed.

“Sure.”

“Where have you been leavin’ to in the middle of the night lately? I’ve heard you get up and go outside almost every night.” She asked you. She was giving you a look, the look that let you know that she already knew, but she just wanted you to tell her. Price of her being your big sister.

“Clearing my head. Can’t sleep well.” You lied.

“Mhm. Is Rick clearin’ his head with you, too? Noticed he’s not been in his cell either. Coincidence?”

“Must be.”

“Look, Y/N.” Maggie sighs. “Daryl came and talked to me today. He’s worried about you, and I am, too. I know you love him. I know. But this? This is not right.”

“And why not, Maggie?” You say her name with a sharpness you didn’t know you had. “You can’t tell me who and who not to sleep with. You are not one to talk.”

“I’m trying to protect you, Y/N! Rick’s a great leader, but he just lost his wife. He’s goin’ through a lot, and quite frankly Y/N I think he’s using you. You’re going to just get hurt in this. You love him but he does not love you back. That’s the harsh reality of things.”

“Get out of my cell.” You tried to hold back the tears. You know what she is saying is true, but you don’t want to admit that to her.

“No.” She didn’t budge from her spot on the bed. “I love you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Well that’s not your call to make.”

Since he wasn’t leaving, you walked out and left her in there. You went down the hallway where nobody was, and fell to your knees in tears. Everything she was saying was true. He would never love you back.

-

You don’t know how long you sat there, but it felt like days. After a lot of deep thought, you decided that Maggie was right. You have to stop this. You’re only hurting yourself.

By the time you left the empty hallway, it was already dark outside. Most people were asleep, except Rick. He was laying in your bed, obviously waiting for you.

“Hi.” You say quietly as you sit on the bed next to him.

“Hi.” He says back, sneaking his arm around your waist and pulling you on top of him. You push yourself off, earning a confused look from him.

“I can’t do this.”

“What?” He frowned.

“I can’t. I can’t keep on doing this with you, Rick. I’m not enough. I’ll never be Lori, I’ll never be able to be that kind of person with you. I know this is only sex for you. I know you’re hurting. But I can’t do this, not when I have feelings for you. I can’t.”

His face is a mixture of shock and confusion.

“Okay.” Is all he says before he gets up and leaves.

You admit, you were hoping he’d tell you that you were wrong. That he loves you, and you were all he wanted. But he didn’t. He accepted what you had to say and left.

You couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes. People warned you- you even warned yourself, but you didn’t listen. You just wanted what you could get.

Your crying was louder than you must have noticed, because Maggie comes shuffling into your room, half asleep but still looking worried.

“You were right.” Is all you could muster up. Maggie really should be saying “I told you so”, but she cares about you too much to make you feel worse than you already do. She comes and lays down on the bed next to you, letting you cry as you hug onto her.

“You’ll be fine. You’ve gone through shit way harder than this.” Maggie tells you.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You sigh. “I feel dumb. We’re in the zombie apocalypse and I’m crying over a guy.” You laugh, but you’re still upset.

“You’re not dumb. Can’t help who you love.”

“Easy for you to say. You’ve got the sweetest guy on earth.”

“This isn’t about me.” She says, and you although you can’t see her because its dark, you can tell she was rolling her eyes.

“I just, I don’t know. It hurt to see him walk out like that. He didn’t even care.”

“Y/N, something really bad just happened to him. He’s not ready to be in another relationship. Even if he did have feelings back for you, he would have probably walked out anyways. His wife just died.”

She was right. She always seemed to be.

You didn’t respond and you closed your eyes, tired and ready to sleep. The more you think about it, the more you realize that it was probably a good thing that you stopped this thing that the two of you had now. Like Maggie said, he was in no place mentally to have a relationship now, not in the way that you wanted.

You drift off to sleep, only one thought lingering in your mind.

It’s time to move on.

[maryenette-writes]

Request List

I made this list so people could see what requests I have in my inbox. If you requested but don’t see your request down here, please tell me so I could add it. Also, please tell me if I made any mistakes!

Last Updated: 27/03/2017 Masterlist

I M A G I N E S

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Request: “could you do a song request with Ruin by Shawn Mendes and with Tim Drake??” 

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Request: “Could you do a Dick Grayson x Reader where they're dating but Bruce doesn't like the reader (he thinks that she's a gold digger) and he's sorta rude to her but then one day he goes to Dick's apartment to talk to him about a mission and he sees the reader and Dick being super cute (maybe cooking or something) and realizes that they really love each other and later apologizes to the reader”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Terry McGinnis x Reader Request: “Can í please request one where terry and the reader meet for the first time at the manor and bruce disapproves because that's his grandbaby

Requester: @dc-comics-imagines Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Request: “Okay. So since I've seen some stories with reader with small boobs going around and since I'm in the itty bitty tiny committee myself I was wondered if you could write something with Dick about it. I don't know if you want to make it nsfw or not.”

Requester: @dc-comics-imagines Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Request: “So reader is an artist and she has an assignment to draw someone so she asks Jason”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Request: “Okay, so I'm a little nervous to request this. I don't know how you'll feel about this. Please, please, PLEASE don't feel that you have to write it if you feel uncomfortable. I totally understand, really I do. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable. But could you write a Dick Grayson x Reader story where the reader and Dick are on patrol and the reader gets shrunk by a chemical explosion, and they're freaking out, so Dick has to calm them down and there's fluff? Thank you!”

Requester: @justmandothings Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Request: “Hello again! I didn't know if requests are still open, but I utterly love your writing and had a cute idea. Could you write a Dick Grayson x Reader where either Dick and the reader are making food and there's cute little shenanigans that go on between the two while they're cooking? Such as Dick dancing to music playing in the background and trying to get the reader to dance, while she's trying to crack an egg and giggling over how adorable he is. The typical 'putting food on each other's face' thing, etc. Any cute fluffy food related thing you can think of. Thank you so much if you can! I love your writing so much.”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Request: “Can I request Jason and it's his wife's first time while they're on their honeymoon? Like fluffy with a tiny bit of NSFW”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: None Request: “Would you be able to write a batsis imagine where the boys go to see her perform for the first time as the prima for her ballet company?”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Request: “Could you write an imagine about one of the boys s/o (you can choose whos), where they are a figure skater and try to teach the boys how to figure skate at the request of Bruce to help them get along after they all had a falling out?”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Request: “Okay, so I know you want a head cannons for requests, but i was wondering if you could write some sort of thing between the reader and tim where his s/o challenges him to a chess match and it just gets more and more intense as the game goes on?”

Requester: @hellomgann1296 Pairing: Terry McGinnis x Reader Request: “If it wouldn't trouble you, could I request Terry McGinnis and reader? Reader is a new crime fighter going by the name Sparrow. People assume she's the new batgirl though because she's always around batman but her excuse for that is always the same, "I fight WAY better than him". But in reality, they're completely smitten w/ each other. But when they met they agreed to keep it platonic for safety/scheduling reason. Friends may have taken a turn to friends with benefits... ...but they don't reveal their identities (domino masks). But one day after a particularly rough mission where reader or Terry is really cut up, the other takes the wounded one back to his or her apartment and while they are being stitched up, they take of his or her cowl/mask. The other person is shocked but the wounded person is like "I think the person I'm madly in love w/ should know that I'm more than just a pair of lips." The other does the same, they share names, and a sweet kiss.”

Requester: @alicerozenju Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Request: “Hi! I'm still on Disney mood, and I was thinking on a prompt where Roy (or the Bat Boys) just saw the Beauty and the Beast (The original animated version of course :D) and thought on Jason as the Beast and the S/O as Belle, and when they saw them cuddling or being all lovey dovey the guys start singing or humming the Beauty and the Beast theme...”

Requester: @dc-comics-imagines Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Request: “So Jason and reader broke up, because as he said he didn't feel anything anymore not even by kissing her and abandons her. Reader calls him a little time later to tell him she's pregnant and he is really mean to her, saying the kid is not his or that maybe there's no kid at all and that is her way of forcing him to come back. +  I just had this idea where she died during childbirth because she wanted Jason by her side and the stress of being alone made her weaker. And during the entire thing she was calling for Jason but he wasn't there. +  I feel like she has to be seem by Jason. Could that be a dream of his? That makes him feel more guilty? +  this dream makes him realize that he should be there for the kid.”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Request: “Could you write about one of the boys s/o having a bad day and they try to make them feel better and it ends up with their s/o painting their nails and doing their make up with glasses of wine and shitty chick flicks playing in the background? You can choose which boy.”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader Request: “I don't know if you do song fics, but if you do, could you do one based on 'Say You Won't Go' by James Arthur for Damien?”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader x Cassandra Cain (Platonic) Request: “Can I pls request a prompt with Jason ft Cassie? Reader is also a hero and likes to train a lot w/Cassie so she's around the mansion a lot. Jason develops a crush on her but doesn't know how to approach her so he starts involving himself in training.”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Damian Wayne x Sister!Reader Request: “Maybe something about Bruce's older daughter going mom mode when Damian has a problem in school, like, fear her, she can hurt you worst than the other Waynes. Even Alfred is scared, Barbara is her best friend and brings popcorn for the other girls.”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Request: “Can you do one with Jason where you end up protecting him. You gained powers from the particle accelerator (tying in the flash here) that surfaced when jay was in danger? Maybe the reader has elemental manipulation. Thanks!!!”

Requester: Anonymous Pairing: Barbara Gordon x Fem!Reader Request: “Okay is there anyway I can get some fluffy Barbra Gordon?? It can be when she was batgirl or oracle. Maybe she teaches her s/o some of her skills??”

H E A D C A N O N S

Requester: Anonymous Character: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Request: “Hi love, could you do a NSFW head cannon (about anything in general about their sex life) for Jaybird or DICKBUTT pls? ❤️” 

Requester: @dc-comics-imagines Character: Batboys Request: “GOING CAMPING WITH THE BATBOYS”

Requester: @dc-comics-imagines Character: Batboys Request: “Headcanons on batboys with stubborn kids”

Requester: @dc-comics-imagines Character: Batboys Request: “HEADCANONS ON BATBOYS TRYING TO RAP AND FAILING MISERABLY?”

Requester: @minchen0897 Character: Batboys + Bruce Request: “Congrats on the 500! You deserve it - and many more :D Now, i saw you asked for Headcanons? I love Headcanons. So...how about the s/o of the Batboys being a soldier, and after being mia for...a year, maybe? They come home. Reactions, please? (Also, older Damian of course, otherwise it wouldn't make sense. And i would absolutely adore it if you would include the War Veteran Alfred too, because he IS a Grandpa to all of them, i am ready to fight everyone on this.) Thank you so much!”

Requester: @minchen0897 Character: Batboys + Bruce + Alfred Request: “Congrats on the 500! You deserve it - and many more :D Now, i saw you asked for Headcanons? I love Headcanons. So...how about the s/o of the Batboys Batsis being a soldier, and after being mia for...a year, maybe? They come home. Reactions, please? (Also, older Damian of course, otherwise it wouldn't make sense. And i would absolutely adore it if you would include the War Veteran Alfred too, because he IS a Grandpa to all of them, i am ready to fight everyone on this.) Thank you so much!”

Requester: @justmandothings Character: Batboys + Bruce Request: “Okay, here's a headcanon ask! Since it's snowing where I'm at, how about how Bruce and the BatBoys act around their s/o's when it's snowing outside and what snow fun things they might do out there. :D”

Requester: Anonymous Character: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Request: “HCs for Jason/Dick dating a famous actress/singer? 😁”

Requester: Anonymous Character: Batboys Request: “Can you do HCs when the Batboy's s/o gets kidnapped by the Joker or any DC Villain? Tysm ☺😘”

Requester: Anonymous Character: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Request: “Hc on how dick and Jason would handle their gf feeling really jealous/self conscious/low self esteemed about their previous relationships with Kori?”

Requester: Anonymous Character: Batfamily Request: “Headcannon for the batfam with their smol s/o or a road trip with the batfam and you're with one of them ? :) xx”

Requester: Anonymous Character: Batfamily Request: “Any headcanons when the bat family goes into a haunted house? >u<”

Requester: Anonymous Character: Batboys Request: “Same anon from a bit back where batsis comes home with a girl instead of a boy, could you write headcannons around that? Like how the family would react to batsis coming home with a girlfriend, and how they would react if it was another heroine, like Kara Danvers or Cassie Sandsmark?”

Requester: Anonymous Character: Jason Todd, Roy Harper & Kori Request: “Head cannon or a imagine of being part of the outlaws and what life is like living with them (Jay, Kori and Roy)?”

Requester: Anonymous Character: Batboys Request: “Head cannon for going on vacation with the boys (Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke,and Damian) ? Thanks Mary! :D”

S H I P S

Requester: @royslittleharper Request: “Can I please have a ship? i'm 5'8 ginger w dyed black hair & brown eyes. i love video game & fantasy/comedy genre. I'm trash for reality tv & sitcoms too. i'm cheeky & dorky at times but can have days where i just want to crawl into bed and use escapism to cope. i'm very protective and sarcastic and ready to go mumma bear at will. I struggle with some cues with people so i tend to be careful and hold onto grudges which I'm trying be better with. i'm addicted to coffee and i'm a sinner. Thank yo”

Requester: Anonymous Request: “Hey there, if you're still accepting ships, could I have one as well? I'm Val (short for Valerie). I'm 5'4, half white/Asian, with greyish blue hair, brown eyes and tan skin. I love travelling, reading, playing video games, and going online. I do not like having attention on me, can be a loner, but love being around people I care about. I'm always willing to put others first before myself, am sarcastic as hell and have a witty sense of humour. Thanks love if you do this!”

Requester: Anonymous Request: “Can I have a ship please? I'm a bi Latina. 5'3" with wavy, brown hair and eyes. I have an average/curvy build. I love cooking, movies and hiking. I struggle with anxiety. Right now I'm working towards becoming a psychiatrist bc I want to help others.”

O . C .   S H I P S

Requester: Anonymous Request: “Here's my OC: her name is Jennifer R. Morgan! She is from Vancouver, BC (so she's Canadian), is half white and Asian (Filipino), is the middle child (one older sister and one younger sister). Her father is a very powerful mob boss around the west coast and her mother is a bio chemist. Parents are divorced due to her father's line of work becoming too dangerous for the family. Kind of the black sheep of the family since she's very shy and isolated due to certain events in her childhood. Jennifer lives with her father and has recently began to partake in his line of work, much to her mother's and siblings knowledge; but then decides to leave that life. She later becomes a vigilante in her area, basically doing what the batfam does. Has light brown eyes, light olive skin, is 5'6 and shoulder-length raven black hair. Has a rose tattoo on her right shoulder, a Gemini zodiac symbol on her left hand (on her middle finger) and many little ones all over her body.  Her family is pretty well-off, but never has she ever taken advantage of that. She's rather 18-20 (I couldn't make up my mind lol), but appears younger for her age. Very close with both her siblings and close to both parents, but since their divorce, has distanced herself from them bc of their continuous custody battle over her younger sister (older sister is 4 years older; younger sis is 8 years). Jennifer's personally is much like Jason's and Tim's. She's also in uni.”

Requester: @batlog Request: “Maia is a 5’6 Brunette and is the daughter of the Asguardian's Skadi and Odin, but believes she is human, with no memories of her past after a prank gone wrong by Loki. She is outgoing and flirtatious and usually in prank wars, but can also ice people out when she gets hurt by them badly and cools off by shooting her bow. She's also very caring and gentle but can be extremely protective stubborn and gullible. Her favourite things to do are eat, tinker with gadgets and exercise. Thank you”

Requester: @pinkiepie125 Request: “Hey! Would it be okay if I sent in an OC ship? My OC's name is Stella and she's what many would call broken. She hates the feeling of helplessness but yet, it's the one feeling that she finds herself suffocating in. She wants to see the happiness in the world but it's too far for her, she can't achieve it and honestly, she doesn't see the way out. She doesn't even think that she could ever be happy. Hope this is enough information for the OC ships, this is my first time doing this! Thank you! <3″

Requester: Anonymous Request: “My oc is Hanna she's Russian and a magician, is mute, parents abandoned her at an orphanage, is a hard worker, not really good at expressing herself, loves reading, adores flowers, is ready to help and protect her friends.”

Requester: @i-n-v-e-r-n-i-s-m-o Request: “Intelligent girl that looks angelic but is sassy and ironic when you get to know her. Kinda mysterious because she doesn't say much with words but her eyes says everything. Fearless and her curly hair is as wild as she is in her heart. Sounds confident. Has so much love inside her that she doesn't know what to do with it, so she just pretend that all this love is dead. Loves deeply or doesn't care at all. Likes to be alone and is independent. Doesn't let people tell her what to do and is a bit dramatic sometimes but won't admit it. Loves horror movies and laughs while watching them. She tries so hard to be happy by herself but sometimes she needs someone. Too proud and cunning. Never felt real love before and act like she doesn't believe it but she's waiting for her love to show up. Doesn't want to be sweet princess because she's already a freaking queen. She can't forgive and forget. Has a golden heart that is damaged, but that's okay because aren't we all a bit broken?

Her name is Mel. Her father was French and her mother Brazilian. She was born in Brazil but moved to USA when she was a child. She always loved to read and learned things really fast. Her father was part of a small "gang" of thieves and was murdered after stealing from the wrong people. Her mother died trying to protect her husband and child. The same people who murdered her family "adopted" her as a symbol of victory to scare people who tried to steal from them. They were really agressive towards her but would never miss a chance of showing her off to look powerful. She spent years secretly training to scape and studying with the help of one of her father's partners that managed to survive but got locked up by the same family, he was her only friend. Years later her friend died and she escaped. She trained for months with no pauses while living in the streets and became a warrior so she tracked down her "family" and killed them, that day she became shadow, a antihero. She took over her "family's"  business and is the leader of their "mafia" but she always make sure that they're not hurting the wrong people.”

Requester: @ifthisislove-loveiseasy Request: “now about my OC: her name is Alma Markovich. she has 20 years old, has long black hair, she is 5'7 and she has brown light eyes, she never had a boyfriend, that's why she's a flustered mess around boys and she is a little clumsy and stubborn but its a good sweet girl. she moves to Gotham to finish her studies of nursing, she doesn't know about her parents since they died when she was little, so she lived all her life with a middle old lady until Alma decided to move to another city. Alma not only know about nursing, she also know speak English, Spanish, Portuguese, Russian and French, also know about close combat, about astronomy and she can cook very well. Her style is very casual but if she want she can be a total femme fatale. Her hobbies are watch the stars, read, play with any dog or cat, play the piano and help to anyone who need it.”

Requester: @nabilaqmr Request: “Hii maruthor! Can I please get an oc ship? My oc's name is Natalie, she's a very stubborn girl who tries to get things done her way and she doesn't take a no for an answer but when it came to the person she loves the most she'll *shyly* give in and agree to let things done their way. She has a habbit of seeing the good in others and always ended up getting hurt but thats one of the things that made her strong and she believes everyone deserve a second chance, she can be a savage if she wants to be and can be a little bit agressive when she's angry. She always put other's needs before hers and she would gladly sacrifice herself for her s/o she's loves to joke around and have fun but also knows when to be serious. That's basically it I hope it's not too long 😅 

So Natalie is 5'1, she has dirty blonde hair with bright green eyes, her favorite color is any shades of blue and green. She's a summer lover but she's also down to winter only for the hot cocoas and cuddles so she would probably wear a lot of tanktops or jackets. I wanna add a few more things about her that I forgot to mention, she's also Oliver Queen's daughter (forgot that detail _ _') she loves her father but she hates how much of a playboy and a flirt he, and probably any other guys she meets, she doesn't go for guys who are already taken by other women/men because she hates being the cause of a broken relationship. She also sees Dinah Lance as a role model and a mother figure so she learned a thing or two about how to defend herself in rough situations. And also she has this love hate brother sister kind of relationship with Roy but she loves anyways.” 

Requester: @schninner Request: “Hi there! I just wanted to start by saying that Red was amazing and yet it killed me a the same time, so kudos to you! I also saw that you were doing OC ships and was wondering if you could do my OC? Her name is Makayla Fray and her alias is Red Comet. She has wavey dirty blonde hair that is always in her face and Red eyes. Powers- she can fly, and when she does there is a red haze around her ( i always picture the tail of a Comet or the light that radiates from it) her body tempurature is normally 115-120. She has something sort of like a plasma blast and has super strength.  Although her powers mainly relate to heat/fire, she can't really use them to their full potential; because,  like a comet (which is basically like a dirty snowball), whenever she gets to hot or uses her powers to much she starts to deteriorate. So she has to drink a crap ton of water. Personality- she is fiercly loyal to her friends, she is clumsy as hell and in no way near graceful or sneaky. She blushes quite easily and gets flustered/embarrassed  whenever someone compliments her. She not really one for people and tends not to make friends easily, but the friends she does make, she loves them wholly. She is sassy and sarcastic when first met, but can be a real sweet heart when she needs to be. She is not really one for authority and can occasionally be a loose cannon out on the field I think I covered everything... But if you need to know anything else I'll be here! I hope you can work with my OC, but if not I understand. Thank you!💜”

Requester: @dc-comics-imagines Request: “I want you to ship him with a female...Okay so his name is Beau and he is 6'6. With long platinum blonde hair (almost like bleached) that he likes to keep in a half ponytail. He also has sandy colored eyes and a scar across his left eye and lower lip. He's warm witty and funny and very loyal. He always chases down the good chances whether it is for love or anything else. He is too devoted to his emotions but knows pretty well when they should be locked deep down in his heart. He rarely gets angry but when he does people fear him. He's too tall and he's either too clumsy or too smooth. He works as a cop and does well with all his colleagues. He likes to workout so he doesn't look like a huge walking straw. Also he avoids dating blondes because almost everyone in his family is blonde and he's kind of bored of that. He'd like it of his s/o appreciated his family, because he has two other sisters; His twin and the youngest members of the family who he protects with all his might and a total respect for his parents.” 

Requester: @dc-comics-imagines Request: “Okay so Lyla is Beau's little sister. She's brunette with natural blonde highlights here and there, since almost everyone in her family is blonde, except her dad. She's loyal, like her brother but sometimes she too damn dump. She has severe depression and she hates to admit so. She's constantly on her own little world, she's an artist and she actually studies art. Her dad forces her to become a cop just like her brother so they can have an eye on her. She decided that she should join the police academy after she had an affair with her professor at the college. (She was forced in this affair by him though, with blackmailing and stuff). Her old relationships hunt her, nobody has ever been too good to her and they seem to always take advantage of her insecurities. She loves her family too, but maybe not as much as her brother. She wants to get away from everyone and everything and be her own self. She doesn't want anyone to control her, she wants to be free and not to have to dye her hair blonde or black to fit the standards of others. she somehow needs someone to order her around. Sometimes she's feisty but she instantly regrets it.”

Requester: @dc-comics-imagines Request: “Taylor is my main oc. She's got dark brunette hair with forest green eyes. She's got mental abilities that she used to struggle to control. Her mother gave her to the Amazons because she couldn't take care of her. There at the age of four she killed an Amazons with her powers. The other Amazons expected Hippolyta to kill her or give her back to her mother but Hippolyta choose to help her gain discipline and with the right amount of practice she became a manhunter, working especially for the Amazons. Later on she came to men's world to go after Diana. But things were difficult because she didn't know the language. Being in the men's world though made her want to know about her biological parents.  After long fights with Diana she decided to stay in the streets. I won't brag about it much, but it was Dick who helped her learn English and helped her settle, and overtime she fell for him. Once she was rejected she was reminded that she was a monster, who only killed people and maybe that's why she wasn't able to be loved. But overall, she never does anything without being ordered too. She might appear as extremely pretty or fierce, as a woman so badass you have to fear, but she's so weak inside. But being an Amazon means she has no single insecurity. She always tells forward for those who indeed have and tried her best to protect the weak and clear her killer name”

Requester: @womenofjustice Request: “Thank you so much Rebecca Baxter Age: 25 Owner and founder of Baxter Technologies. Daughter of Trigon older sister of Raven. Lived in London but moved to Bludhaven build her business. Goes by source when she is fighting crime. Is a nerd. 6'8 dark skinned and plus sized. Sassy and a hard working woman but behind closed doors a weird nerd and geek who loves making Cosplay(s) and weapons. Has a weapons named monster metal that is a metal that she can change into any weapon she wants using her powers to charge it. Hopefully this is enough”