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wizardofahz · 3 years ago

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Sentinel vs. CatCo

Kara sighs internally as she spots the Superfriends whiteboard.

While it has become a permanent fixture in Andrea’s office, it doesn’t always feature so prominently. The focus of the meetings determines its location. If it’s an internal meeting unrelated to the Superfriends, it can be pushed off to the side: towards the balcony or in front of the cabinets. If the meetings involve board members or anyone Andrea wants to impress, it’s tucked into a corner and discreetly covered.

Today, the Superfriends whiteboard stands right beside Andrea’s desk, which means their meeting is going to entail more requests for Superfriends interviews.

Kara braces herself.

And then Andrea says some of the worst words possible: “I want an interview with Sentinel.”

Kara wills herself not to react. On the other side of William, Nia actually snorts.

Nia has worked her way back into Andrea’s good graces, but Kara very much doubts that openly snorting at their boss’s request will lead to another mental health day. Before Andrea can react, Kara says, “I, uh, I don’t think she likes giving interviews.”

“That’s what Nia said about the Superfriends,” Andrea says, completely undeterred, “and we have since gotten interviews with most of them.”

As much as Kara hates to admit it, Andrea’s right. They never participate in puff pieces about what they do for fun, but when they have a cause to promote, they lend their voices in support.

Through his PI work and with his deep ties to the alien community, J’onn had been encountering many others who were also the last of their kinds. With an interest in preserving these alien cultures, he had dedicated a portion of the Mars space in the planetarium to a rotating exhibit of those cultures. He had also teamed up with Kara to revive her Aliens of National City series for a special feature.

Brainy had volunteered for a live public service announcement when a toxic chemical spill had breached the boundaries of an industrial complex and threatened nearby neighborhoods. He had been a little too thorough with the technical details though, and Dreamer had had to intervene to make it more vernacular friendly. His PSA had been big with the scientific community, where some of his equations had been beyond current understanding and sparked contentious debates.

Nia had done a fantastic interview of the new Guardian about marginalized human communities. To quell any curiosity, Guardian briefly mentioned that she wasn’t ready to reveal her identity, but she did reveal that she had the previous Guardian’s blessing to pick up the mantle. Annoyingly, most media outlets chose to focus on that rather than the deep dive into intersectionality.

Alex hadn’t done any interviews. None of the Superfriends had thought twice about it.

Until now.

Knowing how private Alex is, Kara can already picture her reaction to this request.

“If it’s about the ratings, I could get another exclusive from Supergirl,” Kara volunteers. “You said she’s the ideal Superfriend for interviews.”

“Mmm, but we’ve had Supergirl,” Andrea says. “We’ve had all the other Superfriends. We don’t know enough about this Sentinel.” She taps the board under Alex’s picture where it says “HUMAN?”. “Is she fully human? What is her motivation? If she is human, how did she come to join the Superfriends? I want to know.”

“And if Kara’s right?” William asks. “We seem to get interviews with the Superfriends on their timeline, not ours.”

“Then get yourselves on their timeline,” Andrea says. “But I’ll be generous and give you a week instead of 24 hours. If you still fail, well, you’ve heard me say your alternatives enough by now.”

On their way out of Andrea’s office, Nia passes by Kara and mutters, “I’m not touching this one.”

Kara cannot disagree with that life choice.

“What did Nia say?” William asks.

“Nothing.”

...

Alex looks up from her console as Kara enters the Tower. “Hey, what did you want to talk about?”

Knowing how little Alex will appreciate the conversation, Kara says, “You love me beyond measure, and that will never change, right?”

Alex turns around completely, resting her back against the console. She crosses her arms. She knows the difference between Kara approaching her abandonment issues and something Alex will find unpleasant. “Yes? Am I going to change my mind?”

Kara grimaces. “Andrea wants an interview with Sentinel.”

The look of horror on Alex’s face would be hilarious in any other circumstance. “Why?”

“Because you’re the last Superfriend not to give an interview. Andrea thinks that makes you mysterious and intriguing.”

“Not happening.”

“I figured as much. I tried offering up a Supergirl exclusive instead.”

“I love you.”

“Well, she didn’t bite.”

At that, Alex’s head drops back, and she stares at the ceiling.

“I'll write something up anyway,” Kara continues. “Hopefully it will keep Andrea happy in the meantime.”

“Thanks.” Alex gestures for Kara to come in for a hug. “I know you don’t like puff pieces either.”

“It’s okay,” Kara says into Alex’s shoulder. “I’ll find something meaningful to write about.”

...

Alex glances around the downtown street. Luckily she, Brainy, and J’onn had arrived in time to stop an Infernian from destroying a private lab. The police had also shown up and set up a perimeter, which was helpful as a crowd had developed to the south.

“Sentinel!”

Alex spots William Dey at the front of the crowd. "Oh, hell no.”

She normally likes William well enough, but given what Kara told her about Andrea’s request, he’s now on her list of the last five people she’d want to see at any given moment.

“I gotta get out of here,” Alex tells J’onn. “You and Brainy got this covered, right?”

They look over to where Brainy is explaining his containment technology to the police officers taking custody of the Infernian.

William says her name again.

J’onn glances at William then back at Alex with amusement. “Go. We’ll be fine.”

...

“Sentinel!”

Alex looks across the chaos of overturned cubicles and office supplies to see William Dey approaching.

Alex frowns. How did he get here so quickly?

Luckily they are on the fifth floor of the building, which means Alex has an exit strategy William doesn’t. “Supergirl, meet me outside.”

“Copy that.”

A few of the windows were broken in the fight. Dreamer already has the offending meta-human contained, so Alex doesn’t feel bad leaving William behind.

Alex picks the window with the cleanest break and jumps through.

...

Andrea drops something on Kara’s desk. “What is this?”

“An interview with Supergirl,” Kara responds after a quick look.

Andrea sighs. “Kara, I know you heard me when I said I wanted an interview with Sentinel, not any Superfriend.”

Kara shrugs. “I couldn’t get ahold of Sentinel, neither could William, and Supergirl had something she wanted to say.”

“Did you ask Supergirl about talking to Sentinel?” Andrea asks expectantly.

Kara blinks. “I think they have more important things to do than to act as messaging services to one another.”

“It’s not your job to think about their priorities. It’s your job to think about CatCo’s priorities,” Andrea says. “Get me an interview with Sentinel. You, specifically. And again, I don’t think I need to give you the consequences spiel. You have 24 hours.”

Kara reaches out to clear the Supergirl interview from her desk, but Andrea snatches it back up.

“I’m still publishing this.”

...

Kara looks apologetically across the couch.

Just as Kara had tried to give a Supergirl exclusive to spare Sentinel an interview, Alex is now giving an interview to spare Kara’s job.

“Okay, I have to make this on the record, so let’s maybe do a rehearsal.”

Alex sighs but shrugs her agreement anyway. “Yeah, okay.”

Kara hands over her notepad where the questions are written out. “These are the questions I’m going to ask you.”

“You already know the answer to most of these,” Alex says as her eyes glide down the page. “And there’s no way we can publish them.”

“I know. That’s why we’re rehearsing. We’ll have to come up with something that’s real but not revealing.”

Alex balks. Kara doesn’t have to wonder which question its at because Alex reads it out loud. “‘You’ve been a super hero for a while now, but this is your first interview. Why now?’ Seriously?”

Kara grimaces. “Yeah.”

“Because my little sister’s boss is a pain in the ass.”

“Alex.”

“Right, come up with a fake but real answer.”

But their quest for acceptable answers is a tedious process that comes up short.

“I can’t do this,” Alex groans and flops back into the couch cushions. “How about I promise that when I have something to say, I’ll say it to you? You can have that promise on the record.”

“I’ll try,” Kara says. She’s also tired, and she hates forcing this on Alex.

Andrea won’t be thrilled with it, but Kara will make it work.

...

The next day Alex sighs in relief at Kara’s single emoji text.

A thumbs up.

#supergirl #alex danvers #kara danvers #andrea rojas #moments in the life of superfam

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year2000electronics · 3 years ago

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Tumblr's being weird and won't let me find the Dark Moon rewrite post. I think there was one where you explained the story behind it, at least?

I JUST HAVENT MADE A FULL POST ON IT IM SORRYYYY but i can do bullet points of what’s going down

- so basically this kinda comes from a place of me like. liking dark moon but wishing it had more Characters. so it started with making boss ghosts and then kinda escalated

- so the plot is luigi is looking for e gadd after he went missing in a place near the mansion called evershade valley, unfortunately along the way we see a flash of lightning, a scream, and then cut to darkness

- it fades back in and it’s revealed that luigi is now... a GHOST!! oh no! (this would be the main ‘gimmick’ of the game like how mansion 3 had gooigi as a big selling point)

- he realizes he’s in a lab and he’s been captured by a ghost researcher named professor evershade who said his ghostly dna seemed different somehow so he wanted to see more

- luigi explains the situation and asks if he can help him contact e gadd but all lines to him are dead- evershade theorizes that he must have been taken by the same spectre that turned luigi into a ghost, and luigi immediately goes ‘KING BOO....’ bc who else does he have beef with.

- evershade suggests that if they defeat the four rulers of the nearby mansions they can assemble the dark moon, an artifact that will make sure no ghost will be able to cause their own mischief again

- luigi agrees, and in the meantime evershade says he can try to work on a way to see if he can change luigi back from a ghost

- he uses the same teleportation device e gadd does in dark moon to get luigi in and out of evershades lab, and luigi usually winds up in the small garden which leads to the four mansions

- (meta talk here- the multiple mansion exploring and evershades appearance are meant to kinda trick the player into thinking that it’s a ‘different character same purpose’ scenario, like how both goombario and goombella are tattling goombas)

- (you also get access to regular luigi after clearing one or two rooms in the first mansion- this serves as a bit of a tutorial segment for ghost luigis abilities and how youll be able to switch between ghost luigi and regular luigi to accomplish different tasks)

- ghost luigi probably has the power of a portrait ghost himself, so would have abilities such as the ability to scare other ghosts into fleeing a room or scaring them into doing stuff for him (which would serve as both a puzzle solution and a short-term solution for any segments where you may be stuck as ghost luigi), there are also other abilities like passing through walls (but most new rooms will be VERY dark so it would be hard to suss out details), spectral wind, etc. regular luigi is the one able to catch ghosts though, and regular and ghost forms will often interact in puzzles like a slightly less co-op based luigi and gooigi system

- the first mansion, gloomy manor, is a pretty standard mansion, it’s very old and filled w cobwebs. the boss is a spider-themed ghost, madame moufette. she says the mansions been lost to time and now only the spiders and ghosts live there

- the second mansion, haunted towers, is... actually only a one floor lobby. it’s only when you take the elevator that you realize the entire building is underground and it leads you to a literal icy bunker where an arctic ghost, macready, has spent ages under the bunker and is convinced that a light wielding beast is hunting him down

- the third mansion, treacherous mansion, is a house of illusion, led by a chess-playing ghost named rook. there are stuff like portals, tv static, living suits of armour, the like. rook’s message to luigi is that not everything is as it seems in evershade valley

- luigi comes back from treacherous mansion and gives evershade the third piece of the dark moon, which is when evershade reveals he had the fourth piece of the dark moon all along- and. here’s where things get fucky wucky i’m so sorry

- evershade lifts his goggles and takes off his hat and reveals that HE’S luigi from the future. after the events of mansion 1, luigi eventually decided to become an apprentice to e gadd and became a full time ghost researcher. things don’t seem so different at first but unfortunately e gadd game-overs and so luigi is left all on his own. which is a bummer. with his mentor gone luigi throws himself into his work, neglecting going on adventures with mario to a point that he just stops getting invited... (took mario a VERY long time to stop asking though. make no mistake) over time he becomes a bit of a recluse and his curious and observant nature kinda becomes a hunger for knowledge... he wants to know just what the strange and unusual is and what makes it tick. he also starts using professor evershade as a pen name bc ‘dr mario’ gets people asking about his research for the wrong reasons. though not only does he become more curious but he gets very very bored. ghosts are just poltergeists, tricksters... they’re nothing without a leader. luigi tries to bring back king boo, he invents all sorts of things to try- but the one thing the professor did that he didn’t was invent that damn portrait machine (which has rusted and broken with time- it’s been like, 20-25 years at this point).

- basically, what starts out as ‘i need to bring king boo back so i can have a proper rogues gallery of ghosts to study’ turns into ‘i need to bring king boo back but why would i even defeat him? this is great for paranormal studies’ so yeah. now evershade would like to see the ghost world at its fullest power

- he time travelled back to the past to try and convince e gadd to free king boo (yes he made a time machine hashtag smart) but e gadd fights back, destroying the portrait machine he built. evershade is Angry about this and decides if he won’t help him... perhaps someone else will. his ‘time machine’ is actually a large building that affects all of evershade valley, so it, how it was 20 years into the future, was brought into the past. his backup plan was to trap luigi in evershade valley by turning him into a ghost and making him collect the dark moon shards that he had always wanted but couldn’t get (his ghost researching skills are fine but his ghost hunting skills are out of shape. he could have done that in the first place but he kinda wanted to see his old mentor again.)

- the dark moon itself is an artifact split into four parts bc its effect on ghosts is too much to stand, even for ghosts- it’d give whoever owns it absolute power over the paranormal world and its residents, so the four mansion ghosts have taken it upon themselves to protect them (evershades original plan also involved teaming up with king boo to defeat the ghosts and take the dark moon for themselves)

- (actually, the fourth mansion ghost is polterpup! the dark moon piece WAS in his collar but a certain evershade stole it after the doggy lets his guard down around luigi

- evershade, using the dark moons power, casts a blacklight into king boos painting and finally frees him, offering him ultimate power and ruling over ghosts if they work together as a team. king boo finds this hashtag funny so he’s like ok

- then, luigi gets teleported out of the lab before he can try and stop them. polterpup points him towards where evershades lab has been all along- the fourth and final mansion, old clockworks

- in there luigi finds e gadd being held hostage, where he reveals evershade was trying to threaten him into freeing king boo

- as ghost luigi you also experience side effects of the dark moon in this final dungeon, like controller inputs not working or luigi needing to stop and wrestle off a headache

- so yea... final boss is basically king boo fighting you and evershade cheering him on and you need to counter king boos attacks so that they hit the dark moon and destroy it

- luigi sucks up king boo.... LOL

- evershade is defeated and he doesn’t even have an evil monologue he just kinda stares at luigi unimpressed like ‘really? this is the route you’re taking’ and luigi silently just kinda grabs onto e gadd and whatever toads are in this game. and neither of them say anything

- somewhere in old clockworks a clock goes off, and all the rest of them do too (the one time you hear every clock in sync). fade to white and e gadd and luigi wake up in an empty field where a construction worker asks if they’re ok. pan out to reveal evershade is gone and there’s apparently a construction crew hoping to build four brand new buildings here in this valley

UM THATS IT LOL.... it’s rly overcomplicated i know. i’m sorry.

#mothra answers #yea it’s like 2am so the explanation still sucks but basically it’s like.#everything IS on evershades grocery list. he just wasn’t expecting that order #like his thought was get king boo then team up to get dark moon #but dark moon then king boo is ok too.#long post

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therealvinelle · 4 years ago

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The illustrious then-@keerka, who now goes by @troquantary, sent me the following ask. Tumblr, of course, ate it, but luckily for us all I store all my asks on an outside server, so it wasn’t lost.

(A moment of silence for the fact that I took so long to answer this one that the ask was eaten and the asker got a new blog in the meantime.)

This was the ask:

Hi! When you have time, I'd love to hear more about your thoughts on the worldbuilding in Twilight and its logical consistency (if that's not too vague a question to even pose). For me it's almost hard to assess because the canon universe feels very...sparse? Kind of undeveloped? But that also means more room to develop headcanons, so I'm not complaining. Curious to know what you think, though!

This is my answer:

I think I’ll divide my answer in two sections, first I’ll give you an example of a franchise that has poor worldbuilding, then get into my thoughts on Meyer’s worldbuilding.

Supernatural.

Low-hanging fruit, but all the better an example for it.

Supernatural introduces us to a world where everything is real. Everything that goes bump in the night, every myth and every monster, it’s all real, and 99% of them are out to hurt people. Who will stand against this evil, you may ask? Why, a scruffy but all-American bunch of self-declared hunters. These people are not organized, in fact most of them work alone. They are all outlaws. Their expertise is questionable, as Bobby Singer is considered remarkable for the fact that he usually knows what something is.

That’s it.

These people, all of them independent, most of them weird as fuck, are it. You’re in 21st century America, your country wields the most formidable military force in the world, and if something supernatural is wreaking havoc in your town you’d best hope one of these hunter nutjobs happens to have spotted the right newspaper clipping.

We’re offered no explanation as to why the American government doesn’t know about the supernatural, or why the world doesn’t look completely different. In our world, people don’t believe in ghosts because ghosts aren’t real, but in the world of Supernatural, people don’t believe in ghosts because [footage not found].

There’s no demon nor government conspiracy to keep the world at large ignorant, in fact this subject is never broached.

Hunters would make sense if they were bountyhunters, but they’re not. The secrecy could make sense if the angels were behind it, but they’re not.

“Maybe the military does know!” you might say, “it’s just that they don’t let the hunters know they know!” Well, we would have found out in season 5. Dean and Sam were caught up in the apocalypse, the government would definitely have gotten involved with that one.

Then we have the fact that the supernatural entities aren’t internally consistent either. We have angels, demons, humans - good, got it. I know what these three are in relation to each other. But, wait, we have wendigos, banshees, ghosts, witches, vampires, and tricksters as well. How do they all fit into the same world? How does the Christian God and every pagan pantheon, both of which are canon per Supernatural, fit into the same world? Who knows? Not Supernatural.

Supernatural is a world that is written on an episode-to-episode basis, by writers who wanted that gritty bounty-hunter aesthetic for their show about supernatural marks.

Back to Twilight.

Twilight, by comparison, makes a great deal of sense to me.

I’ll admit that some of this is me reading into the text a lot, but I do that with every fandom I’m in. Twilight is a rare one where I can find an answer to every question.

We have these insanely powerful vampires whose exploits leave no survivors and whose numbers are kept low because it’s so hard to create a new one. They’re kept in line by a powerful organization no one can fight, and new laws are created as Aro discovers new threats (Immortal children, his debate on what to do with Renesmée). There are at least two other supernatural species out there, but of the two mentioned one is in place to protect humans, and the other was run extinct by the very organization that keeps vampires in line as well. None of this is fantheory, this is canon as Meyer created it.

Of course, I’ve gone some strange places in guessing why the Volturi exist, why the world of Twilight looks the same as ours, and why the supernatural world appears so limited. However, all of these things are extrapolated from canon. And I can extrapolate very easily because Twilight canon is consistent.

And this here segues into section two of my reply to you, as I imagine you (and many others reading this) are now saying “It’s not solid worldbuilding if the fans are doing all the work!”

Well, again - the difference between her and a lot of other authors is that when I overthink her work I find satisfying answers. That’s not a given, for instance I can’t do that with GRRM’s A Song and Ice and Fire, and half the point of that series is the worldbuilding! (My complains are many, I had to cut them from this meta, but the big one: why don’t the peasants revolt?)

I can’t think of a single plot hole in Twilight, nor of a logical inconsistency. Something either makes sense right off the bat, or I can look a little closer and easily piece together a logical explanation.

More, there’s no excess. I suppose this is what others don’t like about Meyer’s worldbuilding, but I enjoy it. Characters don’t prattle fun facts about things that ultimately don’t matter to the story, and if they do then it turns out later that yes, it did matter. Quite notably, when Carlisle gives Bella a crash course on vampire history, Meyer skips all of it except the part about immortal children, because that’s what was important. Later in that same book we meet Amun and the Romanians, and learn what the world used to be like, so it’s not like Meyer hadn’t come up with it. She left it out because it would have been off-topic and meandering.

This is where Meyer’s approach to worldbuilding comes in. It seems to me that she created the people and the story first, and then let the world they lived in fall into place around them, rather than the other way around. Now, there’s no right way to worldbuild, but I personally prefer authors who do it this way. To my tastes it generally leads to better stories, as this kind of author will show you the world through the story. We discover it as we go along and it becomes relevant to our characters, and if we don’t learn everything about it then that’s fine, though we’ve been given enough clues to guess. Consistency is key in this.

By contrast, authors who do it the other way around and build the world in full detail first, usually end up with worse stories. They get lost in their worldbuilding more often than not, their worlds end up so complex they’re inconsistent, and the story gets off-topic. Too much worldbuilding distracts from the story while adding nothing.

(There are of course exceptions to both, and I have more thoughts on this, but overall this has been my experience with fiction. Too much worldbuilding is in fact too much.)

The world should always serve the story, not the other way around.

(Again gonna use GRRM as an example. I don’t give a fuck about Aragorn’s tax policy. It’s not important to the story.)

So, these are my rambly thoughts on how I think.

There’s also the fact that, judging by Twilight and The Host, Meyer is just plain good at worldbuilding. She gets very good ideas, and she’s intelligent enough to successfully implement them into a story (look to Supernatural for an un-intelligent way of impleneting good ideas). And that’s all I ask.

#long post #it's getting long and late so we're hitting post #twilight worldbuilding #troquantary #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #a song of ice and fire #supernatural

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rose-of-pollux · 3 years ago

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Ooh! What’s the song of time about?

Ooh, so "The Song of Time" was something I was working on during the tail end of the Monkees Ring of Misery days (the Ring of Misery being a group of ficwriters who specialized in angst-with-a-happy-ending fics) and was meant to be the finale to my Zero Trilogy (the first to parts being "Red Sky, Take Warning" and "Somewhere Back in Time"). It would've dealt with the continuity errors of how, despite the very final downer endings of Head, 33 1/3, and the 80s MVs, the "canon" ending of the Monkees TV show is the happy ending in the 90s Justus special.

It would've eventually been revealed that the downer endings would've been the boys' fate (orchestrated by Zero), but Mike pulls a Marty and decides that if the Laws of Time dictate that his friends suffer, he'll just break the Laws of Time (which would've been a nice bit of meta, as Nez wrote the Justus special). This results in a paradox and timeline split, with the main timeline now being the good timeline, but the bad timeline still existing as an alternate timeline--and the main timeline Monkees find a way to give their alter-selves a happy ending, too.

I really hope to finish this someday, but here's an excerpt in the meantime--

"Yeah, well… An instrumental piece isn't going to cut it for this crowd. So, I guess we'll start off with 'Clarksville' for now and move down the usual setlist from there," Mike said. "On four, then. One, two, thr—"

The phone chose to ring at that particular moment.

"Gatdangit," the Texan hissed. He forced himself to be polite as he picked up the phone. "This is 1334 Beechwood; how can we help you?" He frowned.

"What is it?" Peter asked.

"Line's all fuzzy; I can barely hear whoever's talking. Hello? Hello?" He sighed and hung up. "We got cut off."

"You couldn't tell who it was?" Micky asked.

"It sounded like a chick."

"Oh, it must have been for Davy, then…" Peter said.

Davy gave a lopsided smile.

"Well, either you've got it, or you haven't…"

"Think you can lend it?" Micky asked.

"Alright, alright," Mike said. "Back to work, then. One, two, thr—"

He was cut off again, this time by a puff of smoke, and the appearance of an all-too-familiar figure.

"…You," Mike said, scowling at Zero. "Man, you never quit, do you?"

#ask reply #Fun times with the ficwriting crew

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verobatto · 4 years ago

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Destiel Chronicles

It was a love story from the very beginning.

Vol. LXXXI

Is Not Allowed (Part II)

(12x10 b)

Hello my friends! Second part of episode 12 and I'm afraid it will be a third one hehehehe

A lot to talk about it so, let's just start!

A little more of sassy Cas...

Just a quick refer nice to that scene we love so much, in which Sam is the third wheel once more (so we need to pray louder for him).

CAS: We'll find out. You wait here.

DEAN: Whoa, wait. Excuse me?

CAS: Ishim said to come alone. He doesn't like humans. If I plan to do anything else stupid, I'll let you know.

Gif credit @inacatastrophicmind 👇

So sassy here than even Sam is amazed, but mostly, he's pointing here Is him doesn't like humans. Again, is the huge difference between Castiel and the other angels. And how is seen Cas between his lore.

Disgusting

The encounter between Castiel and Ishim is very disgusting to see. Because Cas is a sweet bean, he's there to help to find out who killed his friend: Benjamin.

Castiel and Benjamin are alike, because based on what Cas said about Benjamin and his vessel, it seems as if this angel had the same love for humanity as Cas does.

CAS: Kept your vessels all this time. I'm impressed.

MIRABEL: We are not careless.

ISHIM:. But you, Castiel... I liked the old you better.

First of all, Cas is trying to be polite here, but he crashes against the rejection of the other angels. Mirabel is the first engaging, drawing there immediately, a boundary between them and Castiel. She's saying here: 'We're not careless, like you.'

Cas is surely not like them, and I infer he left his vessel because he respected the human will. He just ask her maybe for that one mission, and only.

MIRABEL: We've been waiting. I suppose it does take longer to get places now without our wings. You had a hand in that, correct?

ISHIM: Now, Mirabel, some angels think of Castiel as a hero. After he left us, he had his own flight to command. Balthazar, Uriel. Great soldiers. Both dead now, of course. You had a hand in that, too. So is he a hero? Is he a spanner in the works? I don't know.

CAS: I'm not a hero, but sometimes doing the right thing requires sacrifices.

ISHIM: True, but it just always seems that it's other angels sacrificing for your good deeds. Their wings, their lives.

CAS: Are you here to insult me or talk about Benjamin?

ISHIM: Can't we do both?

They're exposing Castiel's entire compendium of guilts. All of them, engaging without mercy against Castiel.

MIRABEL: In the years since we lost our wings, two others from our flight have been murdered, like Benjamin.

ISHIM: We're all that's left.

CAS: Why didn't I know about this?

MIRABEL: We didn't think you'd care.

That's exactly the idea they have about Cas. The filthiness of live among humans, bonding with one hairless ape. Cas is the one going against the Sacred Oath, before their eyes.

The hairless ape is not amused

Then we have Dean making his great and dramatic entrance, and almost sitting on Cas' lap! That, my friends, is showing a huge rate of defiance.

'So, you don't like us because we are together here? Watch me jump into my angel/boyfriend lap.'

Gif credit @gabrielokun

The message is received and we can see it in Ishim's face.

DEAN: Feel a little left out over there. Scoot over.

Dean is showing them here they came together, because they support each other. And they do whatever they want and not angel can change that.

The way Dean and ISHIM exchange glances is priceless. Because ISHIM keeps insulting Cas and Castiel's choice of stay with humans. Mostly, with Dean Winchester.

DEAN: Well, who wants some pie?

ISHIM: You know, when I knew Castiel, he was a soldier. He was a warrior. He was an angel's angel. Now look how far he's fallen.

Is official, they blame Dean, we heard it in season 7 too, and now here again. Cas fell for a human. (But... Didn't ISHIM too?)

The Mission

When the angel left, Sam and Dean were amazed about the way ISHIM treated Cas.

SAM: Hell of a friend, Cass.

DEAN: Why do you let him talk to you like that?

CAS: If Ishim can help me find whoever killed Benjamin, then I have to.

Truth is, deep inside, Castiel feels every word they said, and he thinks he deserves it. Depressed as he is in this season, he can only take the blame. Putting again the mission before everything.

The Lily comes killing Mirabel, and hurting ISHIM. And we are witnesses of fem!Cas and the mission.

Every angel in that mission were sure about one thing: VIOLATE THE SACRED OATH, WAS SENTENCE WITH DEATH.

Look at fem!Cas reciting this...

CASTIEL. Akobel, Seraphim of the Sixth Choir, you have lain with a human and you fathered a Nephilim. (...) You have broken our most sacred oath, and the penalty is... Death.

As I pointed before in season 8, the Nephilim is the union between a human and an angel, and is a forbidden relationship. THAT'S THE KIND OF NOT ALLOWED BOND WITH A HUMAN. And that's part of Castiel's POV too. Castiel struggling with this idea is permanent. Even with his rebellious nature, as @zevbaldwin added to the previous chronicles, the inner war is there. We will know more about this in the incoming episodes, and there's a fabulous episode in season 14x15 'Peace of mind', where writers talks about Castiel's POV again and the Sacred Oath.

There's no doubts about it. Nephilim should die and the angel that gave it birth, too. Because angels don't get laid with humans. Because is forbidden.

Akobel there is a perfect Castiel's mirror, loving and guarding humanity.

But once the story is told, look at this piece of dialogue...

SAM: Cass, you, um...

CAS: We completed a mission.

DEAN: Some mission.

CAS: It was horrific, but it was necessary. It was right.

DEAN: Well, you say so.

'We completed the mission's, as always, mission comes first, Castiel kept the speech of a soldier under orders. And Dean is not approving, why it is so bad if an angel wants to be intimately with a human? 'Well, you say so.' Dean adds. Kind of disappointed.

I have to cut again the analysis here, oh boy, this is Yockey, we can tell hahahaha.

To Conclude:

Castiel's depression is here again letting their old partners engaging against him, deep inside feeling he deserves it.

The Sacred Oath pointed no angel should intimate with a human, and is their sacred law, and writers shows it as an inner fight Castiel has for loving Dean. (Of course this won't be a problem once Cas discovers his father is the bad guy) but in the meantime, he is struggling with it.

Hope you like this meta, see you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis @superduckbatrebel @2musiclover2 @nickelkit @anon-non2 @cea1996

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous meta from this season, here you have the links.

Vol. LXXV, LXXVI, LXXVII, LXXVIII, LXXIX, LXXX.

Buenos Aires, September 29th 2020 7:35 PM

#destiel #destiel chronicles #destiel meta #supernatural meta #season 12 meta

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aelaer · 4 years ago

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Re: Blood in Your Veins

Hey so uh.

As anyone who’s been following me for a while knows, I started the serial “The Blood In Your Veins” about this time last year (it used to be ‘my veins’ but retitled it on its move to AO3 because execution of prompt had changed a bit over writing). It’s a prompt that I couldn’t stop thinking about and just dabbled in slowly to see where it went. Then 2020 fully hit and my writing came to almost a complete stop until about October, which is when I began again on Illuminating the Shadows, which was finished and posted in December.

Anyway, I’ve been poking and prodding fairly continuously at The Blood in Your Veins. The first four parts that I posted originally here on tumblr are now all on AO3, and once part 5′s up I’ll link it here and link everyone who wanted alerts to the updates then so they can see the new part. Then all future parts will be linked here as well.

(Cut because why the *hell* did I write this much about this?)

I’ve been slow in posting because I, against better judgement but why not, decided to post it as a WIP. But that means I keep on making edits to older parts because I think of something new that should be addressed earlier in the story. Like uh, when I was writing part 9, I realized I needed to go back to part 5 and add an addendum. When I was writing part 12, I realized I totally forgot a part that I ended up adding in part 8, because I needed it for a future connection. This happens all the time in my writing and makes posting WIPs almost dangerous because my thinking is rarely linear if the story takes place over a course of more than a couple days. Thus the very slow posting.

So this silly little prompt thing that I was just prodding and poking at to see where it went? The farking doc passed 50k words tonight. Yup.

Granted, like 10k of that is probably outlining, personal notes, and A/Ns filled to the brim with meta, medical science, fake science, and technical/computer engineering because I love talking about it and giving people info to access easily for their own knowledge. I figure I can’t be the only one who finds this stuff super fascinating and fanfic makes it unique in that it’s not a book where the research is irrelevant, you can show off all the interesting stuff right here and talk about it with people! I love that about fanfic, so much. Sometimes the A/Ns are just as interesting as the story in some stories.

So it’s gonna be a bit slow for however long, but I finished 11 parts (with 10 betaed), have the 12th largely written out (though I’m not 100% sure about it yet so I want to poke at it more), and parts uh, 13 to 17ish outlined. But considering I was like “yeah this is 8 parts at most” like, at the beginning of this, that number is bound to change because characters keep saying things and doing things (including the supporting OCs, who are demanding to be fully fleshed out within the bounds of supporting character roles).

And yeah, this is just a ramble of what I’ve been mostly doing as I haven’t been super active on tumblr this month as this has consumed most of my free time. I haven’t read a lot of works either, and once this is completed I hope to remedy that, before I go into my next two big projects (which were meant to be what I was working on *now*, but then this took over and what will you do. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to complete three novel-length fics in the course of the year, but I’ll see what I can do. I really want to tell these stories).

Uh, this was really long. Sorry, I’m super verbose and don’t know how to be like, succinct. My old boss, two bosses ago now, used to quote Twain about brevity being a sign of wit, but if it is, call me 100% unwitty because I like to ramble. And then I always feel a little bit guilty for writing *so much* about my bullshit, so I feel like if you read this far, you 100% deserve to read a preview of an upcoming section. Especially since you pressed the Read More button! So here you go, thanks for reading my rambles. This is a section from the longest part so far, part 8. It’s a long little bit!

---

"How high's the toxicity now?" Tony asked as he stepped off the scale.

"Yesterday's blood sample came back at 0.45 milligrams per kilogram of your weight," Stephen replied. He snapped on a pair of latex gloves.

Tony offered his arm for the blood draw. "And if 3 milligrams is the magic number for fatality, that'd put my current blood toxicity at 15%."

Stephen inserted the needle at the crook of Tony's elbow and watched the tube fill up. "That's not quite how it works."

"It makes sense to me."

"That's still not how it works." He removed the needle and capped the tube, and as he put everything away, explained, "Saying that your blood toxicity is at 15% implies that you're talking about the whole volume of blood in your body. You're probably at about 5,500 milliliters with your weight, and with the density of blood equaling about 1.06 grams per milliliter, it is like you're saying—"

"That 874.5 grams of my blood is toxic, yeah, yeah, I know," Tony interrupted. By now he was setting up the table for their breakfast.

"I was getting there."

"You were going too slow," he shot back easily. Stephen gave the engineer a look at the comment, but Tony ignored it. "Yeah, I know it's not my whole body's blood volume. Obviously. But putting a percentage on how long until I reach the point that I'm dead makes sense to me. I'm not measuring the whole volume of my blood, I'm measuring how much more can I handle until I'm dead."

Stephen shot him a frown. "It doesn't make sense to call it 'blood toxicity' then."

"Maybe not to you, but it does to me. And I'd design such a measuring tool for me."

The statement caught him off guard. "Design?" He finished packing up the kit and joined Tony at the table.

"Well, if I wasn't stuck in here, I'd design something to automatically read a blood sample, like how glucose meters read blood sugar levels. Wouldn't be hard to engineer something like that. And I'd have it give me the amount of toxicity as a percentage relating to how far along it was until the amount was lethal. Sure, I could memorize the numbers, but the percentage would be more concrete in my head."

Stephen smeared butter over a piece of bread as he listened. He shook his head at the end of Tony's explanation. "Wouldn't work for the consumer market; there's too much room for interpretation as to what the percentage means."

Tony huffed. "Well, like I said, it'd be for me. Not the consumer market."

His brow furrowed. "You're telling me that you can make a blood test as simple as the one used for testing blood sugar levels for something as rare as palladium poisoning?"

He narrowed his eyes. "... yes…"

"You can make it portable like the glucose meters?"

"Yeah, of course."

"And affordable to most hospitals?"

Tony looked up in thought. "I don't usually factor in the costs of materials and manufacturing in personal projects, and others do the number crunching to see if my ideas are viable for production in company projects. If they aren't, but I really want them to be, I'll tinker a bit more, sure."

Stephen couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Do you realize the amount of money you could save for both hospitals and patients across the country with such technology? Specialized blood tests—like for many metal poisonings, for instance—aren't offered at every hospital. It may not be available even in every state. Those types of lab results can take weeks to get back to a doctor and the patient. And you're saying that you can not only potentially create this type of technology, but that you may be able to make it affordable if you really want them to be?"

"Well yeah, sure. I've done it a few times with other things. I could probably do that with a blood meter thing. I doubt the tech's that complicated."

His mouth was partially hanging open, Stephen realized this, but he couldn't bother at the moment. He was flabbergasted. The first thought that came to mind went to his mouth, unfiltered. "And you spent the last two decades building weapons."

"Don't." The word was sharp and filled with an overabundance of emotion.

Stephen fell silent. He crossed a boundary he had yet to see before now, and he was not so callous as to push against it. Instead he turned to his meal and focused on eating. He avoided looking at the other man.

A couple minutes later, Tony spoke again. It was low, pensive. Thoughtful. "There was a good reason I shut down weapons manufacturing after I got back from Afghanistan, you know. If the department ever comes back, it will be with major restrictions and modifications. Likely more defensive than offensive. More shields, less missiles. But in the meantime I've been restructuring. Expanded in commercial aerospace and industry. We entered the energy market properly. Consumer products is coming soon—end of the year, probably." A pause. "Don't see why we can't look into medical tech, either. Certainly wouldn't hurt to try."

He could only nod and say, "It certainly wouldn't."

#my writing #my wips #fic snippet #stephen strange #tony stark #also why do my fics spiral out of control like this #i mean really

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orionsangel86 · 5 years ago

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“I Think It’s Time For Me To Move On”

...And Other Things That Have Destroyed Me This Weekend...

So there is this common trope within love stories which generally happens at the end of the second act in which everything goes wrong and we all think that the lovers are doomed to failure. Its pretty much standard in every Jane Austen novel, every romantic film every made, every single bloody love story. Go ahead, name one. I guarantee you the break up moment is there.

Within the epic love story of Dean and Cas, there have been many break up moments, and all have had their emotionally devastating impact on the relationship and the show...

But THIS was a different level.

(For a nice summary of Destiel break up moments and understanding of this trope, @tinkdw wrote about it here.)

I didn’t think that there would be another moment within Dean and Cas’s relationship that could hit me this hard. The mixtape in 12x19, the wrapping of Cas’s body in 13x01, and the return of Cas in 13x05 are moments that I consider to be the very top of the scale in making this pairing undeniably romantic. Moments that pushed it beyond a platonic interpretation. These three moments have been the things I cling to when the show has otherwise made me doubt any conclusion to the DeanCas story, and since there hasn’t been another one of those moments since 13x05, until now I have been somewhat nervous that the story was dropped, or being forced back behind a platonic screen.

15x03 has ripped that screen away.

Emotional meta under cut...

This entire episode was an emotion fuelled dramatic roller-coaster that killed off three characters including our beloved witch queen in a scene that almost stole the show and practically canonised the SamWitch ship. Rowena’s death should have been by far the most torturous moment for viewers to endure, and it was extremely torturous and had me sobbing on a plane 3 hours into a 7 hour flight. That incredibly heartfelt moment between Sam and Rowena will probably go down as one of the top tear-jerking moments on this show. It was tragic in the best way - the way Supernatural is famous for.

But lets not gloss over the fact that in an episode where THAT should have been the climax, where THAT should have been the emotional highlight and end point, instead we get a further MORE dramatic stand off between Dean and Cas that pulled focus and ripped all of our hearts out just as violently as poor Ketch in the first act (a very clever and smug piece of meta foreshadowing there Mr Berens).

On a meta level, this is HUGE as a writing choice because they MUST know how this looks. This was the climax of the third episode of the finale season. The way Supernatural has always structured itself since Carver era is that the first three mytharc episodes of each season establish the direction of the story and set the foundations for the character level focal points and dramatic key notes to come.

That the writers have chosen to end the foundation episodes with a DeanCas break up moment that was more dramatic than a Spanish Telenovela has just stunned me and left me reeling because I just can’t see how else this can go. This break up scene absolutely DEMANDS a huge reconciliation of the sort that will be part of the A plot of the season - the FINAL SEASON. Guys. Part of the reason I have been so quiet and so disillusioned with the show during late season 13 and season 14 was because they pushed any Destiel plot into non existent territory - it became kinda irrelevant and Dean and Cas just acted like friends (homoerotic friends yes, and sometimes like an old married couple, but it was mostly played as an afterthought imo), so for this to suddenly be brought to the forefront of the emotional story again is excellent news for us.

The thing is, like with those huge moments I listed above, the break up scene is basically undeniably romantic when you break it down to its components:

1. It’s only Dean and Cas.

Once again we have another scene of high stake emotions that excludes Sam. In a platonic reading of the show, it makes zero sense for there to be such a hugely disjointed relationship between Cas and Dean and Cas and Sam given he has known them both for so long now that if they were all “just friends” then surely Sam would also feel the impact of Cas’s choices as heavily as Dean. In a platonic reading, Dean comes across as an asshole, Sam comes across as being weirdly uncaring about his friend of 10 years, and Cas comes across as not even bothering to get Sam’s opinion before leaving. A romantic reading makes sense because quite literally THIS IS A ROMANTIC BREAK UP.

2. The words spoken.

“Well I don’t think there is anything left to say.”

“I think it’s time for me to move on”

From Cas’s perspective at least, name one time in a piece of media where such language has been used for a platonic breakup sincerely? There have been heartfelt break up songs that use these exact words. (I should know I’ve spent the last 24 hours listening to them all).

That last line in particular is so heavy. It’s the last line of the episode and nothing about it is platonic. This is relationship terminology my dudes. “I need to move on, and get over you.” This is Cas’s bloody Adele song. My heart breaks for him, but if I was his sassy and fabulous best girlfriend right now I’d be sitting him down, sipping a cocktail, flipping my hair and telling him “Babe, you’re too good for him. Good Riddance. Let’s go out, have some cocktails, something pink and fruity. No dive bars for us darling. I’ll take you to Heaven... the fun one in London.”

In all seriousness though, from Cas’s perspective, this was him admitting defeat and giving up the fight for love. How anyone can possibly say Cas isn’t in love with Dean after this, well I just don’t know what show you are watching. This is the face of a heartbroken man who has just accepted that his love is unrequited.

3. The many faces of Dean Winchester

On the other end of the scale, Dean was mostly silent after his poisonous words “And why does that something always seem to be you?”

Forgive the terrible gif quality I’ve no time for fancy gif work!

Look at his face here. He knows what he said was fucked up and he immediately regrets it. The way he swallows around that regret and then turns away.

and after Cas says that devastating final line and walks away? We get THIS reaction from him:

The jaw clench as he looks down. The sorrow on his face as he realises he has well and truly fucked this up. LOOK

Finally, he looks up, makes himself look up and watch Cas leave. If that isn’t the face of a broken man I dunno what to tell you. Anyone who thinks Dean is totally heartless and uncaring right now needs to reassess because this is NOT the face of someone uncaring. This is the face of someone who has just lost everything. Again.

4. The FUCKING MUSIC

Seriously. The sweeping heavy drama of the low strings that come in right after Dean says that horrid line, that carry the weight of the look of horror and heartbreak on Cas’s face as they amplify the emotion there. As they blend seamlessly into the slow and subtle version of the Winchester family theme behind Cas’s heartbreaking speech and Dean’s stubborn stoic face hiding a multitude of emotion, until the violin dominates as Cas says “I think it’s time for me to move on” and the Winchester Theme swells to its climax, ripping all our hearts out just like poor Ketch as Dean watches Cas walk out of his life surrounded by darkness.

I MEAN.

A friend on Twitter reminded us all of this point about the importance of this theme via @justanotheridijiton here which is essentially:

“The Winchester theme is not simply an aural marker to let the audience know when and how Sam and Dean love each other (any Supernatural fan knows that is the baseline of their relationship), but to provide narrative information, especially when the image and dialogue are incomplete or inconsistent with the true situation... Seasoned fans will recognize the theme and its history of being paired with images indicating deep emotional bonding and a desire to do the right thing by the Winchester code. Here we trust our ears over our eyes to reveal the truth.”

So here is yet another key indicator that any surface read that this is actually an ending between Dean and Cas and that Dean really is just an angry asshole is utter bullshit.

Honestly, this was PAINFUL, but it was painful in the best way. It was 13x01 levels of pain, but this time it was Cas choosing to walk away which makes all the difference. Dean’s greatest fear isn’t his loved ones dying on him after all, but of his loved ones choosing to leave him. This was exactly the kick up the ass Dean needs in order to win Cas back, classic love trope style.

Hence my excitement at what is to come. Yes we won’t see Cas again until 15x06, but in the meantime I fully expect a good helping of angst and wallowing from a depressed Dean who has to deal with the fact that he has just lost the love of his life and it is all his fault. That he just pushed away the one person who promised they would always stay by his side. That has got to hurt.

So yeah, this episode emotionally destroyed me, and I’ve only really covered the primary reason, let alone all my feels over SamWitch, Rowena’s death, Belphegor’s taunting of Cas over his deepest fears and then having to suffer through smiting a creature wearing the face of his son until his body was nothing but a burnt corpse... I wonder if Bobo had a bet going in the office over how much he could hurt us all? He was certainly enjoying scrolling through the Supernatural tag on Twitter and liking everyone’s reaction tweets including some brilliant Destiel related ones. I do love Bobo. Our Angst Goblin King.

If anyone had asked me a few weeks ago what my thoughts were on the chances of getting explicit canon Destiel by series end, I would have said somewhere in the realms of 30-40%, considering it a battle of wills between DabbBerens and CW studio execs who I still feel are against it in general. I would have considered everything that happened after 13x06 as the writers getting a big NO on Destiel from the network and therefore having to pull back on any Destiel related plot points (purely my own speculation on BTS matters of course).

Now I am wondering if Dabb kept fighting the network? If he managed to wear them down into begrudging acceptance? I’m currently up to around an 80% chance of textual canon DeanCas if we continue on this path. If Dean is clearly shown to be mourning and hating himself over Cas next episode, and if this DeanCas dramatic plot line continues to be a focal point of the emotional story arcs... well...

I’m side eyeing 15x07 a lot right now. Only in my wildest dreams would I think that they might actually introduce an old boyfriend for Dean in a “coming out” episode, but the placement, timing, and potential is all there and I’m kind of once again donning the clown mask because I’m just in awe at everything that they are doing. I guess we’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, I’m gonna paint my face in red and white and wear my rainbow wig and listen to break up songs on Spotify whilst trying to shove my heart back into my chest where Bobo Beren’s gleefully ripped it out with his hands like the demonic angst goblin he is. Wish me luck, I’m not sure I’m gonna get through this season with my emotions intact.

#destiel #supernatural #spn meta #destiel meta #spn speculation #season 15 #15x03 #castiel #dean winchester #spn spoilers #my meta #destiel dreaming #destiel break up

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skylarmoon71 · 5 years ago

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Earth 2 Harrison Wells x Reader- Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Flash

Warning: Mentions of suicide. Please be warned.

“Barry be careful, if she gets any of that mist of you you’re a goner. The poison affects you the same.” Cisco’s voice rang in his ear.

“Got it!” he zipped forward, coming to a complete stop when he stood before the woman who just watched him cockily. There were over ten people now unconscious in the museum.

“Listen Flash, just let me get that gem and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You know I can’t do that.” There was a ruby, said to have belonged to a royal family. It was a main attraction in the museum, for obvious reasons.

“You know, they really should keep things like this more heavily guarded. “ the meta mocked walking closer to Barry. He was standing directly in front of the artifact.

“So, how do you intend to stop me. If you try to zoom closer you’ll be done within a second. And I’m sure you realize by now touching me is just as dangerous. So what’s Central City’s greatest hero going to do?” She was taunting him. Barry gritted his teeth. He pushed forward.

It didn’t take long or her poison to release, putting her spores into the air. The second he took a step, his body fell flat, veins surging with the green poison. Barry gasped, watching as she laughed walking over his body. She broke the glass with ease, plucking the gem and stuffing it into her pocket.

“See you next time Flash.” With that she was off, the alarms in the museum blaring at her exit.

Through the entire ordeal you’d been hiding behind a pillar. You peeked out when you realized the crazy meta was gone. What you did see was the Flash passed out of the floor.

“Crap!” you ran over. When you got closer you could hear a voice coming from what looked like a com link in his ear.

“Barry, Barry, answer me!!” a female voice screamed. You pulled out the mic, speaking into it.

“H-Hello, I’m one of the civilians at the museum. That woman she got the gem and ran off. You need to get the ambulance here now!” the woman didn’t say anything for a second.

“The Flash, is he breathing?” she sounded hesitant to even ask.

“Yes, he is. He’ll be fine I’ll take care of him just get help.” she didn’t waste time, you could hear her alerting authorities from the other side of the microphone. You dropped it, eyes moving back to the male in front of you. You took a deep breath, hands hovering over his body. A green mist started to rise, slipping into your skin. You groaned, feeling the poison sink into your veins. When it all disappeared you let out a heavy breath.

“One down.” you thought going over to the other victims. One by one you repeated the action. The more poison you sucked through your body the more sweat seemed to gather at your forehead. You’d lost count on how many you’d already healed when you heard a gasp from the side of you. Your head turned.

“Y-You’re awake?” you said softly. The speedster looked a bit disoriented.

“What happened..” he stood slowly, hands on his knees to keep him balanced.

You placed your hands flat on the ground, thankful he didn’t see you using your abilities.

“That meta did a number on you. She got away with that gem thing. “ you pointed to the broken glass. He frowned, looking down a bit guilty.

“Hey it’s fine. These people need attention now. The poison is a lot like a paralysis toxin. It’s curable, but they need help now.” the blaring of the sirens outside alerted you that help was finally on its way. You pressed your head to the floor, completely exhausted.

“Hey! You okay?” he moved closer and you sighed. “Yeah..just in shock. With all the craziness that happens in this city you would I’d be used to it by now.” He gave a small smile, pressing a hand to your back. Someone burst through the door and you saw cops, medics and reporters filing in.

“Flash!” one of the detectives shouted. The speedster stood up shaking his head. “She got away. I couldn’t stop her.” The older male speaking to him just gave an encouraging pat.

“Don’t worry about it. Iris was frantic, she said you were down. “ Barry nodded. “Yeah I was, I’m positive that meta got me. Then I just woke up and this woman was..” his eyes turned and you were no longer there.

“Where did she go?” he made a full circle, trying to pick your face out into the crowd. You were nowhere to be found.

“We can figure that out later, right now that crazy meta is our main priority.” Joe commented. Barry nodded a bit distracted. “Yeah..”

“That was close.” you huffed, leaning on a nearby building. The green liquid that was running through your veins was disappearing slowly. When it was completely gone, you stood up straight, moving in the direction of the hospital.

~~~~~

“Your vitals are fine, not even a spec of the spores.You’ll be fine.” Barry rolled down his sleeve, still trying to put the pieces together. Caitlin pulled off her gloves, disposing of them into the bin. “This doesn’t make sense, she got me. I should still be out. And all those other people, they woke up too, no sign of the poison. It doesn’t add up.”

“There was someone else there. Maybe she knows what happened. When I was calling for you, she said not to worry, just to call the police.” Iris butted in.

“Do you think maybe she's a meta too?” Cisco questioned sucking a lollipop.

“It would make sense. That’s the only explanation. If she did take in that poison, she could be somewhere suffering. That level would be too much, especially since you weren’t the only one she helped.” Caitlin informed.

“Who is a meta?” Harry said walking in with his gun.

“Thanks for finally joining us Harry, you know we could have used your help on this one.”

“I’m here now Ramon, who are we looking for?” He asked.

“A woman, I think she might be in danger. I’ll go to CCPD and get a sketch so you can run it through facial recognition. “

Cisco nodded. “Good plan, in the meantime we’ll work on catching our little gem thief.” Caitlin smiled. “I’d think by now you’d have a name for her. “Cisco grumbled under his breath, shoving the sweet back in his mouth.

~~~

“And on other news, The Flash has done it again. The thief has been apprehended and the gem safely tucked back into its home at Central City’s museum. “ you smiled looking at the television braced on the wall in your patient’s room. “I knew the Flash would do it!” the girl in the bed said happily. “When I get older, I’ll be just like him.” she cheered. She had a Flash figurine clutched into her hand. “Just work on getting stronger, then you can apply to be a superhero.” you teased. She just smiled. You watched the exhaustion in her eyes. “You need to stop getting so worked up Sarah, it’s not good for you.” she just grinned at you. “I can’t help it. “

She was one of your regulars, a cancer patient. The disease had long taken away all her hair. You always wondered how she managed to still smile so brightly when her days were numbered. You took her hand, giving a warm smile. Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes, trying to take away as much of her illness into your body. After a few seconds you hunched forward, breathing heavily. Her eyes closed slowly, falling asleep. You pulled your hand away reluctantly.

“It’s getting harder..” you noted.

“Ms. (Y/N), you have visitors.” your eyes lifted to the head nurse. You nodded, trying to put yourself together as you walked out with her. You slid your patient's door close, meeting a few unfamiliar faces. One of the males was smiling and you with so much familiarity, as if he knew you. The nurse left and you guided them to your office. When you all got in you offered for them to take a seat.

“What can I do for you?” The male who was still beaming held out his hand.

“I’m Barry Allen, I work for CCPD. This is Detective Joe West, Cisco Ramon and Dr. Caitlin Snow.” There was another guy standing with his head bent. His dark clothing and cap made you a bit weary. Still, you greeted everyone with a smile.

“To what do I owe the pleasure? “ Barry stepped closer. “We were investigating the crime that took place today, with the robbery at the museum.”

“Ahh, yes. I saw The Flash caught the person who did it. He’s such an inspiration, that guy. I was actually just talking about him with one of my patients.”

“That’s what we needed to speak to you about, we have witnesses that put you at the scene. We’re just trying to fill in some blanks.” Detective West interjected. You narrowed your eyes.

“I’m not sure how I can help, I was hiding the entire time. I didn’t even get a look at the woman who attacked.”

“Let’s stop wasting time and get to the point.” the guy with the cap stormed over to you raising a watch in front of your body. You flinched when it started to go off. Red lights flaring.

“You’re a metahuman.” he stated. You panicked, stumbling back into the wall. Your eyes darted around the room, raising your hands defensively.

“W-Who the hell are you people, what do you want!”

“Way to go Harry you scared her!” Cisco yelled.

Barry moved over raising his hand. “Listen, we’re not here to hurt you believe me.” he sounded so sincere. Yet, you heard those words before.

“I’m not going to be some experiment locked up in a prison! I haven’t hurt anyone.” Barry nodded.

“You’re right you didn’t hurt anyone, you saved them. Isn’t that right?” you just stared at him. You couldn’t remember him at the museum, so how did he know.

“H-Have we met before?” you asked. Something about him was so familiar, you couldn’t put you finger on it.

“N-No we uhh..” he was stumbling over his words.

“Code red!!” someone yelled outside. Your eyes shifted at the commotion.

“Patient five is convulsing. “ your eyes widened. “Sarah!!” you pushed passed the individuals, diving out the room. When you got to her room she was writhing on the bed, eyes still tightly shut. The machines were going crazy.

“We need to stabilize her!” you instructed the other nurses to get her usual medication. They ran out, scrambling to recover what was needed. Barry and the others were now standing out there, watching with dread as the girl continued to beat against the bed. Tears were gathering in your eyes.

If she didn’t stabilize soon there was a good chance she wouldn’t make it through the night. You glanced back at Barry, before looking at Sarah. You needed to help her, even if it meant they would find out your secret. You pressed both your hands to her head. Barry couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A golden glow was emitting from her head, into your hands. He watched the light travel all the way up to your neck.

“S-She’s killing herself!!” Caitlin cried. Barry moved forward to stop you but you turned to him, eyes now glowing a bright yellow light

“STAY BACK!” your voice didn’t even sound like your own, it was distorted. When the light finally dissipated, you shuffled back and the heart monitors suddenly returned to normal. A bunch of doctors rushed in, checking her signs. “S-She’s stable again.” one of them stated. You nodded. “Keep track to ensure it doesn’t raise again.” the nurse present did just that. It took you a moment to regain your focus, when you did they were all looking at you in awe.

“We have a lot to talk about. “ the man with the cap said. You gave a reluctant nod, heaving as you guided them out.

#harrywellsxreader #metahumans #harrison wells #flash #barryallen #caitlinsnow #cisco ramon #earth1 #powers #villians #patients #doctor #loss #crime #centralcity #herocomplex #angst

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takingcourage · 4 years ago

Text

Strangers on a Train

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 1,850

Note: No murderers or psychopaths here -- just some goofy fun with my favorite mind reader. It’s also woefully unpolished, so please forgive any mistakes that may appear. Real life has conspired against my writing efforts lately.

This piece was written for day 16 of the July Choices Challenge (Journey). Thanks to @julychoiceschallenge for the prompt and @krishu213 for the request! : )

That woman looks kinda familiar. Is she on something I watched on TV lately?

Drawing a staccato breath, Arden raised a hand to her cheek to make sure the wig was still secured. The long wavy locks tickled her ear with the movement, but they remained in place. While her hand was raised, she pushed the horn rimmed glasses back up the bridge of her nose, pausing at the tip as her finger slid down.

They'd left the house less than an hour ago. Had they already been discovered? Surely not yet. How pathetic.

She cast her eye in the direction of the voice, careful to train her focus on the shifting advertisements on the screen behind. The man she’d overheard was turned the opposite way, his own interest given fully to a blond woman making her way toward the stairs.

Phew.

"Here," Jaime interrupted, passing the slick rectangle of paper into her palm.

"Thank you," Arden answered after a beat, hoping that the Southern drawl sounded more natural to other ears than it did to her own.

He raised a brow. Sure you wanna keep this up?

Arden's chin jutted forward a fraction of an inch as she skimmed information on the ticket once more. The journey was only fourteen hours long. Most of that time, they'd be sleeping. Once Cassidy picked them up from the station in the morning, they'd be back to their normal selves.

You're right. Stupid question, Jaime amended as he shuffled closer.

She caught the sleeve of his jacket with a small smile. “I may not get any sleep. I have a mind to stay up and look out the window all night.”

Jaime chuckled as he slipped his fingers between hers. “We’ll see. Once we start moving, you may be lulled to sleep.”

“Maybe,” she wavered skeptically, glancing back down at the ticket in her other hand. Compared to the joy of traveling, sleep just didn’t seem very important.

As was the case with so many of their schemes over the years, this whole situation had begun with such an innocent start. Jaime had been the one to suggest that they turn the trip for Chris and Meta's wedding into a weekend excursion. She'd latched onto the idea, especially after realizing how easy it would be to make the journey by train.

From there, the plan had just sort of run away with her. The thought of reminiscing with her college friends had made her realize how much she’d changed in the years since she’d dropped out of school. Thinking about those changes led her to wonder what it would be like to assume another identity for a few hours.

Her persona had to be something fun -- something that would make her completely unrecognizable. Posing as an odor tester from Georgia was the perfect challenge to keep the trip interesting. She’d be able to shed the disguise well before the wedding festivities began, and none of the other passengers would ever be the wiser about having sat across the car from one of Northbridge’s rising celebrities.

Sucking a small breath as she handed off her ticket and ID, she let it out again slowly when she was given approval without incident. It was a good thing her license picture was from so many years ago. Age and a haircut had done a lot to change her features in the meantime, leaving her with a portrait that looked as unlike her normal appearance as it did today’s variation.

Smothering a giggle in her coat collar, Arden stepped up into the car and peered down its length. She shuffled forward in the narrow aisle, swinging her tote back in a gentle arc toward her stomach. It had been months since she’d been in a crowd of this size without feeling positive that someone would recognize her sooner or later. While she didn’t begrudge the loss of her anonymity, there was something novel about being an unknown entity again.

A gasp broke through her thoughts, followed by a quiet curse that no one else heard. Impulse turned her head toward the middle-aged traveler behind her.

It’s all down my shirt! I can’t believe I did that. I can’t show up at Pat’s tomorrow with tea stains!

"Oh, bless your heart,” Arden cried softly, meeting the man’s light blue eyes. “Do you reckon we can find some towels over yonder?”

Jaime had already released her fingers and was making his way toward the nearest lavatory. His thoughts carried over his shoulder as he traveled. Good grief, Arden. You can pull off an accent and a wig, but you can't pass as eighty.

She channeled her laughter into a sympathetic smile that was just a bit too high up on one side. Surveying the situation before her, she commented, “Oh, those lids ain’t worth a lick, are they? They’re just no good at all. Always leaking and making a mess.”

The tea-stained passenger regarded her curiously before repeating his attempt to snap the lid back into place. “I’d have to agree,” he said finally, motioning to his saturated polo.

“Here,” Jaime passed a small pile of paper towels over her shoulder. The man accepted them with a grateful nod and began dabbing at the affected fabric.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, sir!” Arden called as she followed her husband further down the car.

“So much for keeping your head down,” Jaime mumbled, more to himself than to her as they settled into their seats.

“What’s the point of doing this if I can’t interact with people? I want to see what the world is like through another perspective.” Straightening in her seat before her impassioned whisper could draw too much attention, she glanced up to smile at those who were still boarding.

“You’re going to be doing this all night, aren’t you?”

She tittered at his fond accusation and reached into the tote for her book. “Tomorrow too.”

_____

“Hi, I’m Elizabeth.”

Though she’d practiced giving her middle name, the syllables still seemed to clutter her tongue. Compared to what she was used to, it was much too long and unwieldy to feel natural.

“Gina.” The young woman across the table smiled eagerly, though Arden could sense the tinge of discomfort as they slid into the opposite side of the booth.

“Nice to meet you, Gina. I’m Jaime. Sure you don’t mind us joining you for dinner?”

Her head started bobbing from side to side. “No! Not at all.”

“Thanks.” Arden tilted the menu up to read the contents. “Is this your first time taking the train?”

Gina leaned forward to answer. “No, I use it to go home for most college breaks. It’s a little old fashioned, but I love it,” she admitted with a faint blush. “This is my first time going home since the start of the semester.” I hope my parents are getting along this time.

Arden had to bite her cheek to avoid reacting to the stray thought. Brightening, she lowered her menu to look Gina full in the face. “Any tips for first-time travelers?”

They fell into easy conversation, trading thoughts on every topic from Gina’s school to Jaime’s latest projects around the city. Eventually, talk drifted to Arden’s assumed profession. Her delight at getting to show off her research mingled with the risk of making a misstep.

“What’s your favorite smell?” Gina questioned with unfeigned interest.

“Hmm,” Arden pondered, settling the fork back onto her pile of rice pilaf. “My favorite category is woody scents.”

Jaime nudged her with a discreet elbow as she elaborated. Is this Arden speaking or Elizabeth?

She warmed at the question, grateful she was sitting close enough to make out the traces of cedar and pine embedded in the denim of his jacket. But as appealing as her husband was, she wanted to know more about the young woman sitting across from them.

“What did you say you were studying?”

“Molecular biology!” The woman’s thoughts started bouncing off one another like heating atoms.

Arden couldn’t help wondering how long it had been since the last time someone had asked about it with genuine interest. She took another bite of her roasted chicken to show that Gina was free to continue talking.

“I just submitted a proposal for my capstone. It’s about the...” she chattered excitedly, using words that threw Arden back to long afternoons of sitting through Chemistry 101. Even so, she was grateful when Jaime’s insightful series of questions kept Gina talking through the end of their meal.

“I’ve got a ton of reading to get through this weekend,” she explained after their dishes had been cleared away, ”but it’s been so fun talking. See you for breakfast in the morning?”

“Definitely,” Arden confirmed before the other woman returned to her seat.

“You make friends everywhere, don’t you?”

She rolled her eyes at Jaime’s undertone and gathered her tote bag. “Like you have room to talk. You’re friends with everybody.”

“Almost everybody,” he corrected. I’m pretty sure I still owe Alec Burdock a talking to.

Try as she might, Arden couldn’t contain her laughter as she followed him out of the dining car.

_____

Toothbrush in one hand, Arden used the other to raise a grateful wave toward the train attendant. “Thank you! Goodnight.”

Snapping the sliding door shut behind her, she turned into the roomette to face Jaime. Already changed into his pajamas, he held out a hand to welcome her into the bed.

“Are you Arden again?”

With a nod, she reached up to peel the wig away from her forehead. The fake hair hadn’t been uncomfortable, but it was still an incredible relief to strip away the excess layer and feel the cool air at her hairline.

“Let me help,” Jaime offered as the back caught on the hair at her neck. His steady hands made short work of the tangle, and he passed her the full wig within moments.

“Thanks.” She smoothed out the strands before placing it carefully on an overhead shelf. Lowering back to the mattress, she reached behind her to unzip the top of her dress. His fingers were there to replace her own within moments. “You’re very accommodating,” she praised while pulling the garment over her head.

“Of course.”

“And you were right about me sleeping,” she disclosed, tugging her pajama shorts up around her hips. “I’m exhausted.”

Jaime simply nodded and welcomed her down onto the makeshift mattress after she turned out the light. She curled close, breathing a tranquil sigh when his arm encircled her waist.

“Arden,” he breathed into her temple, hardly audible above the ambient sounds of the rails beneath them. "I'm glad you're you."

“Me too,” she whispered, her knuckles idly trailing the dusty line of stubble at his jaw. Snuggling into his side, she reflected on the day’s events.

Tonight had been fun, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to the morning as well. Yet, the charms of her own life outweighed those of any other. She’d never trade it for anything.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #julychoiceschallenge #wishful thinking #jaime lewis #jaime x mc

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eirenical · 4 years ago

Note

meta asks for writers: 2, 8, 11, 19, 23. Also, if you get bored, come tell me about the Lost Tomb reboot in messenger!

I am ABSOLUTELY going to jump in to messenger to 1) respond to YOUR messages and 2) tell you all about MY TLT ;D. I was going to do it yesterday, but I got distracted by things. OOPS. (And, OMG, tumblr has been REALLY BAD about dropping messages, haven’t they? You’re like the fourth person I’ve talked to this week where multiple messages have just... not shown up in the middle of the chat. SO ANNOYING.)

BUT IN THE MEANTIME...

[If anyone else wants to play, here are the asks.]

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

OMG, I’m so excited about my Whumptober fic(s) YOU HAVE NO IDEA. Which is... hilarious, because it is a tiny rowboat of a fandom and a very niche set of tropes and like... I think I know personally everyone who might even be VAGUELY interested in reading it, but HERE WE ARE, I GUESS. XD (You’ll find a couple of snippets further down the post, if you’re interested. ;D)

And BEHIND A CUT WE GO, BECAUSE THIS GOT SUPER LONG.

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

There is definitely a lot of overlap, no question. There are a few things I like to read that I don’t also like to write, mainly because I feel like I’m not that good at writing those things? And also there are some uber UBER dark versions of already dark tropes that I DO like to write that... I can’t quite get myself to write personally but still occasionally enjoy reading. Because sometimes the shredder just wants what it wants, and oh well. ^_^

11. What do you envy in other writers?

The ability to plot out a story on an outline and write it, I think. Because it seems like that would be a SUPER HELPFUL WAY to stay on task and organized. But I just... can’t. Also, the ability to write shorter stories that don’t require 50K words worth of lead up. :P I just... don’t do that well. -.-;;;

19. Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

Oh, fucking hell. SO MANY THINGS. XD ELLIPSES. ELLIPSES ARE A PROBLEM. THEY ARE MY ADDICTION AND THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE. I also tend to use... IDK how to even describe it. Musical beats? My sentences, when I’m on my game and writing intuitively, definitely have a certain rhythm and feel to them that makes use of repetition and triple (often synonym) words to get the feel I like. Things like this:

“ As Fusheng sat staring at the bars, that numbness crept over him, slowly, inexorably, irrevocably.”

I’m also a fan of using short single sentences as their own paragraph to break up the flow of a narrative. I just like the way it brings everything to a screeching halt and focuses your attention on that one single line.

“As hands closed over Luo Fusheng’s wrists, clamped down on his arms, wrenched his shoulders—how many policemen did it take to arrest one man, anyway?—and a ring of cocked rifles cut off any possibility of escape, the cost of this battle finally became clear.

Sometimes, the cost was measured in betrayal.“

I pull that trick a LOT. I’d go so far as to say it’s probably a signature move in my writing style. ;D

And I KNOW there are similes and metaphors and turns of phrase that I overuse, but I LIKE THEM, DAMN IT. CAN’T STOP, WON’T STOP. XD And there are without a doubt tropes that I love and tend to write a lot of, but all of those things are deserting me as I try to think of them. XD

23. What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest?

Oh gosh. I have so many story ideas, and I’ve been coming up with story ideas since I was so young, I barely remember where they came from. But I have a sprawling multiverse playground of a crossover that has essentially gobbled up every single piece of media I’ve ever read in my life going back to sometime in elementary school and recombined it with literally everything else, that I play with routinely in my head and NEVER intend to write any of down on paper. I’ve had that sucker going for at LEAST 30 years, if not more. ;D

#ask meme answers #conversations through replies #enechelon #snippet #eirenical writes things

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perspective-series · 5 years ago

Text

Meta Perspective (6)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, not listening/being ignored, being trapped, crying, and panic

(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)

————————————————————————————————–

Virgil exited the classroom with a sigh. Today had been a long day, more so knowing he had Amanda in his pocket, but now it was finally over. He waited by the car, knowing Patton would be out any minute.

He glanced around to make sure no one was around before sneakily taking a peek down in his pocket. “You doing okay?” He asked, eyes going from her to around him cautiously.

Amanda blinked, putting a hand up to block out the light after spending so many hours in the pocket. “I’m fine,” Amanda mumbled, feeling a bit tired.

Virgil let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Just hang tight, we’ll be home soon.” Virgil explained. He let the pocket close and as he did, Patton walked up to him.

“Ready to go! How’s Amanda doing?” He asked.

“She’s good but I think she’s itching to get home. I know I am.” Virgil said and then hopped into the car, Patton close behind. Virgil, in the driver’s seat, started the car and headed back to the apartment.

“Yeah, imagine that.” Amanda scoffed. The day was like one long heart attack with all the fear of human interaction, combined with the absolute boredom of sitting in the dark all day. Virgil didn’t even go to any interesting classes.

When they finally got home, Virgil very carefully lifted Amanda out of his pocket. Immediately, Patton went up to her. He gave her a kind smile. “How are you doing?” Patton asked.

Amanda gave him a weird look. “I’ve been stuffed in a pocket all day, how do you think I’m doing?”

Both humans winced. “I-I know, I’m sorry about that,” Patton said, sending a disapproving look towards Virgil. Virgil ducked his head slightly.

“Right, sorry. I just...didn’t want you trying to leave and hurting yourself even more.” Virgil tried to explain himself.

“I’m not stupid you know.” Amanda chided. “I wouldn’t do something like that.” Of course, she had been planning to do exactly that, but Patton and Virgil didn’t need to know.

“Well, how about I make us something to eat?” Patton suggested. It was a little late for lunch and dinner was right around the corner but they could have a little snack to munch on until then. “Have any ideas?” Patton asked, looking directly at Amanda.

“Me?” Amanda looked surprised to be included in such a decision. She never got to decide what to eat, except in terms of deciding what to borrow and that was limited to what humans made available.

“Of course! Name anything and I’ll go see if I have it.” Patton grinned. He had a feeling Amanda never really got this kind of food and wanted to give her as much of it as possible.

“I mean, I really like fruit,” Amanda admitted. It was delicious, but rare for her to get because it was often kept refrigerated and it spoiled quickly.

Patton hummed. “Fruit, got it! I know we have some strawberries in the fridge, definitely.” Patton smiled and went to go grab them. Meanwhile, Virgil was just now realizing he was still holding Amanda.

“Oh, right, you probably want to be put down.” He knows he would want to be, after spending so long not on solid ground. He set her down on the table.

“Right, thanks.” Amanda shifted, noting that the wooden surface of the table was a lot less comfy than Virgil’s palm. Of course, it was also a lot safer, so Amanda preferred the table.

Virgil nodded and Patton came back with a plate of strawberries cut in half. He set the plate down and sat, Virgil following suit. “There we go! This should hold us over until dinner.”

Virgil smiled at him. “Thanks, Pat.” He grabbed a strawberry and popped it into his mouth.

Amanda limped over to the plate, grabbing a half strawberry for herself. She took a big bite, smiling as a bit of juice ran down her face.

Patton chuckled. “Good?”

Virgil reached over and grabbed a paper towel, ripping off an edge and holding it out for Amanda wordlessly.

“Delicious.” Amanda ignored the paper towel, instead taking another large bite and looking Virgil in the eye as she made a further mess of herself.

Virgil couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He decided to just set the paper towel down near her. “Well, it’s there if you need it.” He said, taking another strawberry.

As Patton swallowed his bite, he looked between the two. “So! You guys have anything you want to do today? Virgil, do you have homework?”

Virgil shrugged. “I mean, yeah but it’s fine.”

“Virgil…” Patton said and Virgil sighed.

“I’ll get it done, don’t worry. But, for now, I’m down for not doing it.” He chuckled. Patton rolled his eyes playfully and turned back to Amanda.

“So? Any ideas for what to do today? Nothing too strenuous though, of course.” He said, looking Amanda and her injuries over.

Amanda kept her lips sealed, tactfully distracting herself with finally cleaning her face. After all, her preferred activity would be going home, but that didn’t look like it was gonna happen any time soon.

“...I’m kind of tired.” Amanda shrugged, hoping that if she were to nap the humans would leave her alone.

“Oh! Well, we could always set something up for you so you can take a nap.” Patton said. “Did you want to do that?”

“Oh, I’m definitely tired.” Amanda made a show of stretching her arms up, giving a yawn. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Cool! Where did you want us to set it up?” Patton asked. “I can offer my bedroom, or we could make it out here in the living room?”

Virgil shrugged. “My room is open.”

“I think your room would be best, Patton.” Amanda gave him her kindest smile. That bedroom was out of the way, with a fairly accessible hidden entrance. Not to mention, Patton seemed to be the less suspicious of the two humans.

“Sounds good!” Patton held out his hand for Amanda to climb on. “Virgil, could you go find that fluffy blanket? I think it’s up in the hall closet.”

Virgil nodded and went over to look.

In the meantime, Amanda situated herself into Patton’s hand.

Patton lifted his hand carefully and brought her into his room. He went over to his bed, figuring that would be the most comfortable, and set her down. Virgil came in a second later with the blanket. “Here you go, Pat.”

Patton took it with a grin. “Thanks, Virgil!” He turned back towards the bed and situated the blanket so it was a nest shape. “There we go. How does that work?” He asked Amanda.

Amanda ran her hands along the soft fabric, a slight pang of jealousy going through her. It really would be a comfy bed.

“It’s perfect.” Amanda thanked him, climbing into the center for show.

“Great! Then we’ll leave you alone until dinner is ready.” Patton turned to leave but Virgil stopped him. He was looking at Amanda warily.

“Pat, are you sure we should just...leave her out?” Virgil asked hesitantly. Patton frowned.

“Of course kiddo. She knows better than to try anything and risk hurting herself. Right, Amanda?” He turned back to her with a smile.

“Oh, of course.” Amanda batted her eyelashes for good measure, pulling the blanket around herself to appear even more small and innocent. “You’ve proved your point, I was just too stubborn to realize this is for my own good. Thank you both for doing my thinking for me.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes at her but Patton didn’t seem to notice the sarcastic undertone, despite Amanda trying to hide it. “See Virge! Nothing to worry about!” He started to push Virgil towards the door.

“We’ll leave you to your privacy now!” Patton called out. Virgil wanted to argue but knew it was no use. Instead, he gestures that he was watching Amanda before the door was shut.

Amanda breathed a small sigh of relief, grateful to have some privacy. Of course, as comfortable as this blanket was, she couldn’t stay here. Virgil was clearly suspicious, and Amanda had to take advantage of this time alone while she had it.

…

Okay, maybe a few more minutes in the blanket wouldn’t hurt.

Patton dragged Virgil over to the living room and sat him down to watch TV so he wouldn't bother Amanda. Honestly, he didn’t understand how Patton could trust Amanda so much. She was stubborn, after all. And she had been very adamant about leaving before. It was why he took her to school with him.

Patton just liked to see the best in people. But sometimes it blinded him. So Virgil waited a bit before sneaking off with the excuse to use the bathroom. Instead, he opened the door to Patton’s room to check to see how far Amanda had gotten in escaping.

To his surprise, she was still in the little nest and by the looks of things, maybe even asleep. Huh. Maybe Amanda realized it was better for her to stay here after all. Virgil took one last glance at her before shutting the door and heading back.

***

Allison sighed, head against the glass as she watched Logan hyper-focused on his studies. He had glanced over at her a few times but hadn’t said or done anything else since he had put her in here. She hated it but she was too nervous to try and say anything else. Besides, she highly doubted it would work.

She was dreading Roman coming home, knowing that was when they would all talk and her fate would be decided for her. But at the same time, she wanted something to happen already.

It was a long time yet before Roman entered through the front door, positively fuming.

“You forgot to pick me up!” Roman exclaimed, sulking into the kitchen.

“...oh, my apologies.” Logan had the decency to look sheepish. “It slipped my mind.”

“Oh, I’ll give you a piece of my own mind-!” Roman stopped mid-sentence, spotting Allison. “...why is Allison in a jar?”

Allison ducked her head, bringing her knees up to her chest. Oh gosh, she wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready to have her whole life taken from her.

“Well, she kept trying to run off.” Logan sunk further into his chair, noticing the way Roman glared at him.

“You could have just watched her.” Roman huffed, picking up the jar.

Allison heart rate picked up as Roman grabbed the entire jar, lifting it and her up. She glanced down for a moment before quickly taking her eyes away. She did not like being able to see the floor through the glass. Nope. No thank you.

“I attempted to do so but it proved futile!” Logan insisted.

“No, you just wanted to pay more attention to your books.” Roman rolled his eyes, tilting the jar upside-down and placing his palm beneath.

Allison's eyes widened but she had no time to brace herself as she tumbled down and into Roman’s hand. She groaned slightly but quickly sat up and glanced shyly up at Roman with a mix of nerves and fear. She found that she was trembling as well but she couldn’t stop it, no matter how much she wanted to.

“Aww, it’s okay.” Roman cooed. “Mean ol’ Logan won’t hurt you anymore.”

“I’m right here.” Logan deadpanned.

“How about you and I just spend some time together, hmm?” Roman suggested, heading to the living room. “That would be fun.”

Sure, Roman seemed like a good alternative to Logan right now but she still didn’t want to be alone with any human. She shook her head. “I-I want to go home.” She tried. Maybe Roman would listen better? Probably not, though.

“How about we watch a movie?” Roman said, ignoring her request. He sat down on the couch, leaning forwards to grab the remote. “Any suggestions?”

Allison squirmed, heart dropping lower in her chest. She was being ignored once again. “I...I don’t know.”

“Hmm….” Roman scrolled through the various films, wondering what Allison would like. His eyes lit up, spotting Lilo and Stitch. “Ooh, I think you’ll like this one.”

She probably would but she wasn’t sure if she could enjoy the movie in her current situation. She squirmed a little more. “P-Please...I just…” I just want to go home.

“Oh, come on Allison.” Roman set her down on the couch cushion next to him, giving her a sympathetic smile. “This will be fun, I promise.” He pressed play on the remote, leaning back into the couch.

Allison let out a little sigh, looking up to glance at the TV for a moment. Whatever was happening on screen was so fascinating. She just wished she could actually enjoy it. She glanced up at Roman, seeing how into the movie he was. Wait...this might be her chance.

With Roman distracted by the movie and Logan still in the kitchen, maybe she could actually escape!

...Well, probably not. But she had to at least try.

She carefully stood up, keeping one eye on Roman before heading to the edge and starting to climb down. She had to make sure she didn’t go to fast though, despite how much she wanted to. She didn’t have her hook and she didn’t want to fall.

“Now, see, this is where it gets really good,” Roman explained, leaning forwards with his eyes still glued to the screen. “Just wait, it’s coming up in a moment.”

Roman had looked at her yet. She still had a chance! She continued until her feet hit the floor. Her eyes lit up, was she actually going to make it.

“There!” Roman clapped his hands excitedly. “Did you see it?” Roman turned to gauge Allison’s reaction, but of course, Allison was not there. Roman’s eyes widened, quickly catching sight of Allison on the floor.

Allison’s eyes widened, looking up in time to catch Roman’s eye. She froze for a second but then booked it underneath the couch. She was so close!

“Wait!” Roman wasted no time diving to the floor, pressing his face up against the floor to see. It was dark underneath, and for an anxious minute, Roman found he was blindly flailing his arm around. He sighed in relief when he felt a living form, quickly curling his fingers around Allison.

Allison couldn’t help it. She screamed. “No! Let me go!” She cried, struggling within the grip. Tears escaped her eyes, she had been so close. Right next to her exit, in fact, when Roman was able to grab her. She just wanted to go home.

Roman became alarmed at her pleas, pulling Allison back into the light. “Allison, please, calm down!”

“No! I-I want to go...go home! Let me go!” Allison yelled, still crying. Her tears were coming out in waterfalls now, hot against her cheeks as they slid down her face.

“I...I…” Roman was at a loss of what to do, looking down at Allison with an almost panicked expression.

“What’s all the commotion?” A worried Logan asked, speed walking into the room. He crouched down, trying to gauge the situation. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Roman insisted. “We were just watching a movie, and then she ran under the couch, and… oh Allison, please don’t cry…”

Her crying was full-on sobs now, she just couldn’t help it anymore. As soon as she saw Logan come in as well, she knew it was hopeless.

“Roman, stop restricting her!” Logan insisted.

Roman did as he demanded, looking just as worried as they stared at the sobbing mess of a girl resting in Roman’s palm.

“Allison, are you hurt?” Logan insisted, leaning closer.

Allison shook her head as she continued to cry. She was trying to calm down enough to speak but her emotions were overwhelming her right now. So much had happened in just a day, she was finally letting it all out.

“Allison…” Roman reached out to comfort her, but Logan stopped his hand.

“Set her down,” Logan explained. “Give her space.”

Roman nodded, setting Allison gently down on the couch cushion.

Allison was thankful when she was set down and she curled into herself to let the crying run its course. After a few more minutes her sobs quieted and the only sound coming from her was her shaking breaths.

The room slowly became quiet, the movie having been paused long ago. Roman and Logan looked at each other, unsure.

“How are you feeling?” Roman asked quietly, breaking the silence.

Allison didn’t look up as she shrugged. “I’d say fine but then I’d be lying.”

Logan let out a tense sigh. “Perhaps we have been a bit….brash.”

“Indeed.” Roman murmured. All he had wanted to do was spend some time hanging out with Allison, and yet even that had ended up with Allison in hysterics.

“Allison, perhaps we can come to an agreement.” Logan offered.

Her eyebrows furrowed at that and she glanced up at them. “An...agreement?”

“If you simply answer a few questions, we will let you leave,” Logan explained. “Is that fair?”

Allison groaned and looked back down. Yeah, she wanted to leave but not...not like that. She couldn’t reveal anything about the others. About Amanda. “It...depends on what you ask.” She ended up saying. Maybe they...wouldn’t ask about any of that?

Ha...Allison laughed at the thought.

“Fair enough.” Roman nodded. He was curious too, but he knew that though this might be his last chance to ever see a person like Allison, he wouldn’t feel comfortable keeping Allison around against her will.

“Do you want to go first?” Logan offered. “I need to go grab a notebook.”

“Oh, sure. Umm….” Roman pondered it a moment, waiting for Logan to come back. “Well, can you tell us what you are now, Allison?”

“I’m curious about that myself.” Logan murmured, opening to a clean page and pulling out a pen.

Allison bit her lip. She knew that was going to be a question. “I...I really shouldn’t…” It was against the rules, after all.

“Hmm.” Logan pondered this a moment. “Then perhaps we should start with what information can you share?”

Allison blinked. What could she share? “Um...well...m-my name is Allison but uh, yeah, of course, you knew that already um…” She couldn’t help but stutter as her nerves took over. “I-I live in the walls, have for some time now…” What else was there?

“...anything else?” Roman pressed.

“Um…humans aren’t supposed to see people like me. We’re supposed to stay hidden away for our...for our own safety.” Allison hugged herself. “I know now more than ever why that rule was put into place.” She said quietly.

“Apologies.” They both had the decency to look ashamed of themselves.

“Where are you going to go now?” Roman asked. “I mean, will we see you again?”

“No,” Allison said, knowing for sure that they wouldn't. She only realized after she said it, that it could affect them letting her go. Still, she continued on. “I’ve been seen...I have to move away now.” After she found Amanda, of course, they were both out of there.

“Where will you move?” Logan pressed. “Will it be dangerous?”

“Probably,” Allison admitted. “It’s...It’s always dangerous.” At least it wasn’t winter. But fall could still see snow and she hoped that didn’t happen. “As for where...well...me telling you kind of defeats the whole…point.”

“Oh, of course.” Logan looked a bit sheepish.

“Is there any way we can assist you?” Roman offered. “I know we’ve been terrible, but...I certainly don’t want you to get hurt because of us. I mean, you don’t have to move, do you? What if we just leave you alone?”

Allison clung to her own arm, looking down. “Would you really though? Be able to leave me alone?” Allison sighed. “I know you humans. You’d constantly be looking around for me to pop up. And if you actually saw me, would you be able to...to not do anything?” She asked and despite whatever they answered, she knew the real answer.

“Of course we would!” Roman insisted.

“If that is what you desire, I’m certain we can make those accommodations.” Logan agreed. “It may take a period of acclimation, granted.”

And that’s what she thought they would say. Of course, how could she trust them to uphold that? She shook her head. “I don’t have a choice.” She said. “It’s the rules. I have to leave.” She didn’t really want to leave but she also didn’t want to stay, knowing Roman and Logan knew about her and could potentially find and catch her again.

“Rules?” Logan seemed to become more interested. “What rules?”

She wasn’t thinking as she spoke. “Borrowers have these rules we have to follow. Like to not be seen, don’t talk to a human, and if you are, then you need to leave. Those are the main ones. The most important.” Allison explained.

“Borrowers?” Roman repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Meanwhile, Logan was frantically scribbling away in his notebook.

Allison’s eyes widened as she realized what she had just done. “No! I mean...I, no, I didn’t say that!” She tried desperately.

“Yes you did, approximately 43 seconds ago.” Logan reminded her, still focused on his writing.

Allison groaned, putting her head in her hands. “Would it be possible for you to pretend like you never heard that?” Allison asked, voice slightly muffled.

“Absolutely,” Roman assured her. “Our lips are sealed.” He made a zipping motion in front of his lips. When he saw that Logan wasn’t going to copy the motion, Roman leaned over and did it for him.

Allison laughed a bit at that but quickly covered it with a cough. “Anyway...is that...is that enough questions? Can I go now?” She had basically already revealed everything she wasn’t supposed to. She didn’t want them to somehow find out about Amanda too.

Logan and Roman looked at each other.

“...I have no further questions.” Logan announced. “At least, none that I believe you would be willing to disclose, and I will not pressure you further.”

“Same goes for me.” Roman sighed. “But...please consider the offer to stay. We really will leave you alone.”

Allison sighed. “I’ll...think about it.” She lied. She then turned to Logan. “Can I have my hook back, please?”

“Ah yes, of course.” Logan retrieved it, handing it over. “My apologies.”

Allison just nodded carefully taking the hook from Logan. She held it close to her, happy to have it back. She then went to the edge of the couch, as far as she could away from the humans and began to lower her hook and climb down it. Sending nervous glances towards the humans as she did. Just waiting for them to suddenly spring forward and stop her.

But neither human made a move, going so far as to avert their eyes to give her some privacy.

“...lovely weather we’re having.” Roman murmured.

Allison made it to the ground and quickly took her hook back, wrapping it up and hanging it on her belt. She then wasted no time in running under the couch. Without another word towards the humans, she went back into the walls.

“Indeed.” Logan sighed. “Now I do believe she has truly departed.”

“Do you think she’ll stick around?” Roman asked, daring to be hopeful despite his mood.

“Outlook doubtful,” Logan admitted, heading back to the kitchen.

Allison stopped for a minute a smile on her face as she realized she was free. It was the best feeling in the world.

Now, all she had to do was find Amanda and get the heck out of there.

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal!sides #au #borrowers #human!logan #human!roman #human!virgil #human!patton #borrower!amanda #borrower!allison #platonic #meta perspective #part 6

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thegoodomensdumpster · 5 years ago

Note

yo! Whose you're fav meta writer? Do you have any fic or meta recs?

So this is a very interesting ask but I don’t really know how to answer it. The thing is, I have the feeling that most meta analysis come from various people through the fandom?

Some people will write one meta masterpiece and never anything else, some will contribute regularly, either starting out little posts or contributing to pre-existing ones. Sometimes people will write a lot, sometimes they won’t, and most of the meta I’ve encountered (no matter the length or the regularity in which the author have contributed) have been very pertinent.

Overall, the meta writing seems to me like more of a collective effort, and I have a hard time thinking strictly of some specific names to recommend. I would point out to @kedreeva who has written quite a lot of meta (if I remember correctly) in the past months, and recently @guardian-of-soho has written some very interesting thoughts as well. I personnally contribute to meta from time to time, tho it’s far from being my main activity.

I can only suggest going through the meta tag on my blog to scavenge the meta I’ve gathered and try to see if some names stand out of the crowd!I will try to find and reblog a piece of meta that was submitted to me a while back tho, one that focused on how the book was heavily influenced by the Cold War era. It was very long but definitely worth a read ( and worth an academic award or something ). As for the fic recs … *awkward chuckle* I’ve been meaning to put up my own personnal fic rec list for a while but I haven’t found the time / motivation to set it up. It will be here someday. In the meantime I will recommend one of the first fic I read, back when it was still a wip:Give My Regards to Broadway - volunteerfd -12 499 wordsThe relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley seen through the Broadway shows they attend. A very interesting concept and a very nice fic!

#good omens #meta #blog #blog rec #fic rec #Anonymous #ask

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violetsmoak · 5 years ago

Text

Philtatos [3/?]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47654632

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: # fate #gods in disguise #reincarnation #secrets #titans #wings

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

As a general rule, Tim avoids going to Batburger when in uniform; it feels as if he’s endorsing a company that capitalizes on cape and rogue identities, and which he knows for a fact treats their employees like chattel.

But apparently mythological gods of love have insane metabolic needs.

He makes a mental note to ask Bart to send some of those special high-calorie protein bars he eats. There’s no way Tim intends to spend valuable time playing delivery boy if Jason’s in trouble.

He frowns at the thought, causing the girl at the takeout counter to step back nervously.

Jason was his usual charming self tonight. But it was a bit off.

The older vigilante, never the paragon of patience and gratitude, was on a hair-trigger tonight. Under normal circumstances, there’s more verbal sparring between them before Jason things get physical. Even then, their altercations are usually because some villain is trying to pit them against each other.

Or he really was just pissed off I was following him.

But Tim can’t help thinking that’s not it. The whole thing has been nagging him since the night before, drowning out what would normally be frustration and hurt after his encounter with the Red Hood. There’s no time to be hurt when there’s a problem to solve.

Tim accepts his order, and after ensuring it’s triple-bagged, tips the girl at the counter for her time before taking off. Swinging across the rooftops of Gotham carrying ten times more than he ever buys for himself is too awkward, so he ends up jumping on the roof of a passing bus and riding it toward the old theater district.

His eyes automatically flick to the passing buildings, wondering if his progression away from Jason’s part of town is being watched from up top.

Or if he should be ducking an impending sniper shot.

Jason’s words echo on repeat in his mind, needling deeper each time. It shouldn’t sting as much as it does, but they were just getting to a good place in terms of trust.

“If I need help, I’ll ask. And chances are, I won’t be asking you.”

“So much for that,” Tim mutters to himself as he prepares to disembark from his ride.

Upon arriving back at the Nest, he skips changing out of his gear and heads straight for the subbasement. The containment unit there was build with Poison Ivy and Scarecrow related emergencies in mind, but it’s come in handy since he acquired an Olympian roommate of sorts.

Normal protocol after a twenty-four-hour observation period would be to send Eros off to a prison for metahumans, but Tim is wary about giving up custody of him any time soon. The potential danger to Jason aside, he’ll need to get his hands on a good deal of null technology and fortified transportation just to move the guy without setting off his powers.

That memory induces a shudder; it’s been a day, and he’s still tasting pomegranate.

Tim doesn’t wish that on anyone. And if that lack of control seizes Jason, forcing him to throw himself at Tim like a ravenous dog?

A visceral swirl of nausea settles in Tim’s gut. Jason’s always had strong ideas on consent, even before his death. It’s one of the few things that didn’t change following his resurrection. If Jason becomes the very thing he’s been fighting his whole life, Tim worries he’ll break for real this time, and in a manner very different than when he first broke The Rule.

Tim isn’t going to let that happen, even if that means working with an entitled godling that’s already become more trouble than he’s worth.

It was hard enough just getting him here, the guy’s way heavier than he looks…

He wonders if it’s the wings, if their mass is still discernible even when they are out of the visual spectrum, and how strong they’d have to be to carry something person-sized. They probably aren’t like a birds’ appendages, and Eros is clearly not hollow-boned, so either they’re extremely well-muscled or of some metaphysical material construct that—

“Hey! Are you going to feed me at some point, darlin’? Or is part of your brand of hospitality enforced starvation?”

Tim jolts back to present from his drifting thoughts and glances across the open space of the Nest toward the containment unit. It’s a hundred square feet of bulletproof glass and filtered air designed by S.T.A.R Labs specifically to counteract the abilities of metas and other enhanced humans.

Eros lounges on his cot, wings out and examining the feathers with his lips pressed together. He’s been annoyed with Tim since waking up in the in custody, though Tim thinks he’s more upset about the whole being knocked-out thing. There’s some kind of telenovela playing in the background.

He wasn’t sure how long he was going to have his guest, so while Eros was still unconscious, Tim hooked up a television screen inside, and brought several books and a mp3 player. He also brought every piece of art from his apartment upstairs and crammed it inside the unit. Eros’ abilities may not have affected Tim when he put him in there (this time), covered as he was, but as those powers grow beyond his control, he’s going to want to siphon it off however he can.

Eros finally looks up at Tim, narrowing his eyes. “For your sake, I hope you got the fries Jokerized. And your channel selection sucks. What kid your age doesn’t have at least one Adult channel?”

“The kind that finds them gross and exploitative.” Tim makes a face as he pushes back his cowl, though he keeps his domino on.

And who has two full-time jobs that make sitting down to watch anything like that pretty much impossible.

He can’t remember the last time he went on a date or did anything nearing the realms of sexual. Normally he just sees to his needs in the shower and that’s that, since there’s no time for much else. He’s even gotten in the habit of not taking more than five minutes so he can do other things. What’s the point of taking longer if there’s no one there with him?

Eros is watching him with a cruel twist to his lips, and Tim’s ears warm. He has a flash of worry that the Olympian can read minds but then decides if Eros had that ability, he’d be using it mock Tim by now. The guy's sort of a dick.

Tim scowls at the notion and opens the hatch in the side of the unit and shoves the takeout bag inside, punching in the code to decontaminate the area.

Eros gets up from the cot, stretching in a languid movement that’s distracting for reasons other than his shirtless state, and stalks over to the hatch on the other side. As he moves, he brushes his fingers across a bronze Grecian krater from the Classical period. Something like golden wisps of smoke swirl around it and then settles into the piece, which gleams a bit brighter.

He wasn’t kidding about that, I guess.

Eros clutches at the takeout bag and begins unloading it on the table by the door hatch, stuffing fries in his mouth and making borderline pornographic noises that have Tim swallowing uncomfortably.

“So where’s Tall, Dark and Angry?” the Olympian asks. “I figured you’d be wrangling him back here—force him into a sweet set-up like this one.”

He kicks at the glass.

“There’s no wrangling when it comes to J—Red Hood.”

“And you’re not worried at all?”

Tim considers the last meeting and carefully says, “He seemed fine when I ran into him tonight.”

But he can’t quite hide his unease. Eros picks up on it.

“You get that that’s only temporary, right?” he asks, stuffing a handful of fries in his mouth.

“I also know that going at Hood head-on isn’t the way to convince him of anything. He’s got to reach out for help himself. The most I can do is monitor him from a distance until he’s ready.”

He wanders over to his main computer and brings up the tracking program for the bug he planted on Jason when he grabbed him tonight. The other man was more distracted than he let on if he didn’t notice Tim slip it on him.

And he hasn’t gotten rid of it, judging from this.

It’s not making a quick exit via sewer or a passing truck, which is par for the course when ditching a tracker. He’s chased enough of those to know what that pattern looks like. And when Tim pulls up camera footage from the surrounding area, he catches several shots of Jason making his way to the safehouse in Coventry no one’s supposed to know about.

“Really?” Eros drawls. “Are you sure it’s not because you’re perfectly happy with this state of affairs? Maybe you’re hoping you’ll finally get some recognition from the guy you’ve been pining for?”

Tim tenses and turns, forcing a blank look and neutral tone. “I’m not pining for him.”

“Don’t lie to me—God of Love, remember? I could smell it on you the minute you were both in the same room.”

Tim clenches his fists, a pit forming in his stomach at the idea that someone knows, followed by disgust as he registers what Eros just said.

“No, I’m not happy about it,” he growls. “Why would I be happy about him being forced to do something against his will? Especially if it’s giving a crap about me?”

“Hey, no offense meant,” Eros says, holding his hands up in surrender; the effect is ruined by the burgers clutched in each fist. “My mother and I have made a career off guys wanting the object of their affection to pay attention to them, at whatever the cost. And there was no such thing as dick pics back then. It’s kind of a question I’ve got to ask in my line of work.”

“Your line of work? You mean you still fly around the world making people fall in love?”

“Uh, no, human beings fall in love fine on their own. I just…make it happen faster and last longer. To my mother, love is a whimsy, gossamer thing, all moonlit strolls, and flowery words and basking in the newness of it all. For me, it’s fierce. Intense. Something that when denied guts you like a knife and hollows you out with desperation.”

A hungry expression passes over his face that has nothing to do with food, and Tim shivers, disliking how a lot of that sentence is hitting too close to home. Rather than betray his discomfort, he takes a chiding tone. “If that’s what you do, no wonder people kill themselves after bad break-ups. Some people aren’t able to deal with that sort of pain—do you even care?”

“Not particularly. Besides, it’s only the interesting ones we get involved with. They tend to be stronger at heart.”

“Because that makes it so much better!”

“Do I tell you how to do your job? No. So how about I get a little less judgment and a little more ‘start finding my diviners’ from you?”

“Oh, we’re going to find them,” Tim says, fighting to control his anger. Whether I’m letting you have them back is another story entirely. If I can figure out some way to keep you and your bow locked up, it’d save a lot of people grief. “But just so you understand, Red Hood is my priority here, not you or your toys.”

“Really?” Eros purrs, sneering skepticism on his face. “Even though I could ensure he starts to return those pesky feelings of yours? In a less life-threatening way, of course.”

“He might not even be affected.”

“Naivety’s not a good look on you, darlin’. But seriously—all I have to do is use an arrow, and you two could retire from the cape gig and go antiquing in New England once this is all over.”

Tim snorts at the ridiculous image and shakes his head. “No.”

“Really? You’re still willing to fight for him, even if he goes back to treating you like an afterthought if you help him?”

“When I help him. And it’s not like it would be something new.”

And, yeah, that still hurts.

Eros huffs, his expression suggesting he’s not sure what to think of that, and then shakes his head.

“Self-sacrificing as ever,” he pronounces and pops the top on a can of Zesti.

Tim puzzles at that remark for all of five seconds, when the screen of his computer lights up with an incoming transmission from Titans Tower. Tim accepts it and the screen fills with a familiar face.

For the first time that night, his mouth smooths into a genuine smile. “Hey, Cassie.”

“Red Robin,” she replies, eyes flicking over him as if to assess him for injury or danger.

She keeps to his rules about secret identities in his base. Sometimes he wishes his identity was public like hers—and then he remembers that he gets enough unwanted attention as Tim Drake-Wayne, it would be worse if people knew for sure he was Red Robin.

Vicki Vale would be the first in line to turn my life into some kind of reality TV show…

“You tried to get a hold of me earlier?” his friend asks, and Tim nods. He’s never been the type to leave anything to chance, and last night while Eros was still conked out, he shot an email to Cassie asking her to get back to him as soon as she could.

“How are things in California?”

“A hell of a lot warmer than where you are, but I don’t think you want to talk about the weather.”

“Nope. How much have you heard about Eros?”

“Eros?” she asks. “Like Cupid?”

“Really?” the winged Olympian groans. “You too? You’re supposed to know better.”

Cassie’s eyes narrow as she takes note of the figure in the containment unit behind him. “Who is that?”

“He says his name’s Eros, and from what I’ve seen, I’m inclined to believe him.”

Eros gives Cassie a smarmy smile. “Hello, Auntie. Nice to meet you finally.”

She wrinkles her nose, and Tim can’t help mirroring the expression. “And I thought my family was messed up.”

“Your family is messed up,” she retorts. “Mine’s just been doing it longer.”

“Touché.”

“So, why’s he in a cage?”

“The real question is why isn’t he gagged,” Tim replies, earning a smirk from Cassie and an offended ‘hey!’ from his detainee. “Basically, he’s losing control of his powers and when that happens apparently there will be a nuclear explosion of desire.”

And that’s possible the weirdest sentence he’s ever said.

“Super orgy,” Eros agrees. “Which though fun in theory, is a lot messier than any of us want.”

Cassie and Tim shudder.

“Not that Gotham couldn’t use a collective chill pill,” Cassie says, “but that sounds like an easy fix. You’ve got him locked up, send him on to Iron Heights or one of the other places that have meta containment.”

“Hey! What’d I ever do to you?!”

“I would, but there’s a complication,” Tim sighs. “He was wounded in an altercation involving a bunch of mobsters, and some of his blood infected a human—no, not me.” He is quick to add that at her widening eyes. “But the individual in question isn’t exactly known for being in control of their emotions. They have a history of trauma as well that could turn this into an issue, so I need to find a cure as soon as possible. Preferably before the symptoms Eros insists are coming manifest.”

He purposefully downplays Jason’s involvement, since the Titans aren’t his biggest fans. Even the ones who weren’t around at the time have heard the story of unconscious bodies, a message written in blood and Tim nearly dying. Heroes are supposed to be above grudges, but they are still teenagers.

“Not sure what I can do for you on that front…”

“Eros says his arrows will reverse it, but they’re missing, along with his bow. I’m looking for that. But I have to find out how bad this could potentially get, and how long it will take.”

“I could tell you that,” Eros grumbles.

“I need independent corroboration because I don’t believe he’s being completely honest with me,” Tim finishes, ignoring him.

“I know nothing beyond what I’ve heard in the stories, and those you have to take with a grain of salt,” Cassie muses.

“Told you,” Eros informs Tim.

“But I’ll contact a few people in my family. They might know something concrete.”

“Thanks,” Tim says, relieved. “Other than that, everything’s good with the Titans?”

“Just the usual stuff. Nothing end-of-the-world bad this week, but it’s only Tuesday.”

“Don’t jinx it!”

“We live in a jinx,” Cassie replies with a roll of her eyes. There’s a crash somewhere in the distance, and the trumpeting of an elephant and she winces.

“Beast Boy?”

“I’ll see you later, Red, I’ve got an idiot to kill,” Cassie sighs.

“Isn’t it fun being the leader?”

“Shut up.”

The screen goes blank, and Tim can’t help his grin.

“So, you know my aunt.”

The grin vanishes as he turns to face Eros. “First, stop calling her that, it’s weird. Second, she’s with the Titans. Of course I know her.”

“Titans,” the Olympian scoffs. “You call yourselves that, but you’ve never met an actual Titan. They were formidable warriors. So fearsome they had to be thrown into the deepest pit of Hades to ensure they never rose up again to threaten the gods.”

“Clearly they weren’t all that if they got locked up,” Tim retorts, offended on behalf of his team.

Miraculously, Eros has nothing to say to that.

⁂

Jason wakes to the sensation of lips between his shoulder blades and someone’s fingers sliding down the curl of his spine. He grumbles in dozy annoyance, shoving his face deeper into his pillow. It took him way too long to fall asleep last night, his overactive imagination plying him with thoughts he does not want to be having. Whoever’s bothering him is about to—

He jerks upward then, fingers clenching around the pistol beside his bed and whirls around to aim at whatever intruder has slipped into his room.

Because he went to sleep alone last night, and no one should know about this safehouse or how to bypass his security.

(Well, obviously there are the members of the Family, but Jason’s fairly confident none of them would be waking him like that.)

He faces the emptiness of the room, breathing hard as he tries to gather his wits. The space is too sparsely furnished for someone to find a place to hide, the shadows already eaten away by the sunlight. There’s no question he’s utterly alone, gun pointed at nothing and his body heaving like he just went three rounds with Bane.

What the hell…

He lowers the gun, scowling, and rubs the back of his head with his free hand. He’s used to having realistic dreams, but that’s new…

Jason scrubs a hand down his face, gives one last bleary glance at his surroundings, and heaves himself out of bed. There’s no way he’s falling back to sleep after this.

He’s distracted the rest of the morning, paranoia higher than usual as he takes second and third glances around the room before getting in the shower. He really shouldn’t have skipped it last night, because his skin is sticky with dried blood.

The wound in his shoulder is completely gone now.

If he’s learned anything in his life it’s not to ignore when things magically appear or disappear.

And yet…

If he acknowledges it, it means acknowledging the fact that he’s starting to fixate—hell, already is fixating—on Tim, and that’s something he can’t give in to.

Repressing shit is a time-honored Bat tradition, and he decides for once he’s going to partake for as long as possible. He’s still able to function, which means there might still time for him to figure all of this out on his own.

He returns to the location of Eros’ warehouse, hoping to find some trace evidence left from the night before. If he can get an analysis of the blood that infected him—

Except, the person he’d usually ask for that is the one he should be avoiding at all costs. The other options are ten times as unpalatable.

Damn it.

It turns out there’s nothing to be found anyhow, although Jason isn’t sure it’s because someone cleaned it up (the GCPD crime scene cleaners or the ever-diligent Red Robin) or because maybe Olympian blood doesn’t stick around. His wound is healed like it was never there, it’s possible it’s the same with the blood.

The day gets steadily more discouraging.

The first time Jason hears the voices, he’s in the middle of busting up a shipment of drugs he stumbled onto while leaving the warehouse district. The Triad flunkies seeing to said shipment aren’t exactly happy to see him, which is why things quickly devolve into fisticuffs.

As one of the knife-wielding henchmen take a run at him, Jason crouches, ready to engage, when without warning, someone whispers in his ear.

“Ready to lose?”

“Do your worst, infant.”

Somehow, he can feel warm breath along his jaw, even though he’s wearing his helmet.

Jason jerks to one side, prepared to pull whoever is behind him over his shoulder, only to find the air behind him empty. His pause allows his opponent to shove his knife at his ribs.

Body armor and his own deflection abilities keep the blow from being fatal, but the rest of the fight, Jason is thrown. There’s no one else but him and the Triads, but the sensation of someone hovering behind him doesn’t disappear.

Tim?

He’s looking for him before he even registers it, stepping over the groaning bodies of his opponents and examining the shadows for any sign of Red Robin. It would be just like him to sit and watch from the shadows, the little stalker. Dick told him stories about what little Timmy was like as a kid, and it wouldn’t surprise him if he still liked to sneak around with a camera.

That idea makes the blood rush to his cheeks for some reason.

Disappointment rises when he confirms he’s completely alone—followed by the queasy realization of what he was just doing.

He doesn’t even bother calling the GCPD to do a clean-up as he flees the scene.

As he stitches himself up later in his safe house, Jason eyes his reflection in the mirror, glaring at himself in reprimand. He should be stronger than this, damn it! If not because of his All-Caste training, then even thanks to Bruce’s insane regimens for dealing with poisons.

His gaze flicks over his scarred body, assessing the damage. He’s used to the litany of scars that cut across his skin, this latest is just part of a growing collection. The other one, though—

He studies the healed part of his shoulder and swallows.

If he hadn’t known there was something wrong with it before, healing as quickly as it did, he knows now. The raised skin of the new scar looks as if it’s been glossed over with gold; fine threads of it follow the surrounding capillaries like loose threads.

If this is some kind of King Midas deal, I’m going to kill that winged douche. Though, turning into a golden statue is potentially a better outcome than what could happen if what Eros said was true. At least this time Bruce will have something better to stick in the case than an empty suit.

The grim humor usually makes him feel marginally better; today it doesn’t.

After that, the voices are everywhere he goes, needling at him in a way that is somehow more present than the insanity of the Pit, more maddening. At least when he was driven by an insane rage, the voices egging him on made sense. There was a purpose, a logic behind their prompting.

“Always planning, aren’t you?”

“Well, someone has to.”

The whispers that dog him are more like snatches of a picture or a dream, without context, and yet each word murmured to him falls on him like a searing iron on his heart.

“Should e’er I go, will you go with me?”

In the next few days, things get steadily worse.

Jason’s all but given up on sleep, since every time he closes his eyes, Tim’s face seems engraved on the backs of his eyelids. Only not Tim—sometimes he looks different, but the image is so fleeting Jason couldn’t even explain how. And when it’s not Tim’s face or his voice, then his slumber gets interrupted by vibrant flashes of color and sound. There is warmth and laughter that abruptly turns to crushing, wrenching pain.

“You think of me as a shield?”

“I think of you as my shield.”

“You’ll have to catch me!”

It’s not an echo of the physical, the way nightmares about his death tend to be; the bone-shattering imprint of the metal bar against his bones. No, this pain is something else, a gaping hole, someone shouting into a dark void that no one will ever hear.

“I would that you would leave them all to perish.”

“Bury us together.”

During the day, he experiences a bitter longing, like he’s missing a limb or a lung. By night, his patrols are more vicious, bloodier as he tries to exercise his frustration the best way he knows how. As if hitting harder, and faster, will bleed out whatever is slowly poisoning him.

By the middle of the week, Jason is smoking a pack a day and filled with the manic energy of the perpetually exhausted. He’s started seeing things out of the corner of his eye—full lips tilted upward in amusement, flashes of blue eyes, dark hair disappearing into a crowd—that makes his stomach flip.

“Come back to me.”

He picks his phone up and puts it down several times one morning, each time getting closer to calling Tim until he throws it at the wall. He leaves his apartment before he can do the same to his tablet.

There’s no point carrying out his usual errands, and he ends up wandering aimlessly around the city for a few hours. Somehow he ends up on a building across the street from Wayne Enterprises, staring at the floor where he knows Tim’s office is. Where he knows Tim is.

Even on a case, pretty boy has to be the model employee or no allowance from B.

It would be simple for Jason to get into the building if he wanted to. There’s Bat access points all over the place, and secret corridors and doors. He wouldn’t even need a disguise to keep anyone from recognizing Bruce Wayne’s dead kid.

Yeah, and then what, moron? What exactly is the game plan once you get in?

He can’t even answer himself and lets out a wordless yell of rage that gets lost in the whipping wind.

“Screw this,” Jason growls and turns his back on the WE building. It galls him that it’s difficult to do even that.

Time to get some answers.

Since there haven’t been any reports of arrests of winged metas, he knows exactly where to look. Tim’s as paranoid and as much of a control freak as Bruce, and he’s not about to let a potential resource go before he’s used it to its full potential.

And there’s no way babybird doesn’t have a secret hideout under his place.

It’s a short journey back to the old theater district, or at least it feels that way; Jason’s more distracted than he’d like and barely registers the trip. Once there, he circles the block where Tim’s apartment is located a few times, making sure that there’s no sign of its owner (even though he knowsTim’s at work, there’s a part of him that keeps hoping) and then breaks in.

It’s a bit of effort to disable the security system (the little shit is too paranoid and smart for his own good) and then even longer to start looking for a way into Tim’s base of operations.

He may or may not get side-tracked snooping through the kitchen (no wonder he’s so scrawny, he’s got barely any food in here) and rummaging in the bathroom medical cabinet (at least he’s well-stocked, it’ll keep him from bleeding out the next time he gets injured) and picking through various DVDs (of course Tim has the extended versions of Lord of the Rings, why doesn’t that surprise him?). It’s only when he peeks into Tim’s bedroom, sees the king-sized bed and has a sudden image of the younger man sprawled out on it that Jason remembers the actual reason he’s here and almost runs back downstairs.

It takes longer than he’d like to find the trick to opening the secret door, though when he finds it, he snorts.

Because fish? Really?

When would Tim even have the time or patience to remember to feed them, unless he was coming over to the aquarium every day? It’s the only thing in the apartment that doesn’t feel like Tim.

Jason scowls, wondering when he started being so familiar with Tim’s esthetic. They’ve barely hung out together since his grand and bloody return to Gotham, and they’re both always traveling the world or wide void of space, there hasn’t been the opportunity to get to know the kid. Yes, he once studied his replacement obsessively, but that was to find his weaknesses, to learn how to take him apart, to destroy him and in turn destroy Bruce.

None of that should translate to knowing minutiae like how Tim takes his coffee.

When did I even pick that up? Could it have been that time with the waffles?

His ruminations trail off as he takes in the vast, three-level cavern he’s descended into.

And…okay, this place is way cooler than Jason’s pseudo-Batcave, but he guesses that’s par for the course when a tech nerd whose Daddy bankrolls everything.

Though he doubts Tim would have used Bruce’s money to finance this. He likes his independence; Jason learned that for himself about the time he found the kid holed up in Lex Towers. It’s one of the things he likes about him.

He finds Eros in a containment unit.

Bingo.

The guy has a decent set-up too, from the look of it; he might as well be in a swanky hotel room.

“Back so soon?” Eros calls, not looking up from his show right away. “I thought you had work or whatever it is you humans force yourselves to endu—” He glances up and sees that it’s not Tim, and his sentence trails off, expression becoming almost gleeful as if he’s been waiting for him a while.

“Kairόs dé, poimḗn laôn,” he purrs.

Jason blinks, not understanding the words even as they tug at something in him. It’s like being spoken to in a dream or from beneath running water.

He shakes his head. “Sorry, that’s not one of the languages I had drilled into me.”

Eros’s face morphs instantly.

“Well, you’re no fun,” he says, and though the words are accompanied by a childish pout, Jason thinks he senses actual disappointment there. Normally he might investigate that, but he’s here for a reason, and that involves figuring out what the hell is going on with him.

“You know why I’m here.”

“Indeed,” Eros says. “Starting to get that unscratchable itch, aren’t you?”

“What do you think?”

“I think I warned you and you didn’t believe me. Not sure what you expect me to do about it now.” The Olympian examines his nails.

“Oh, I don’t know--fix it, maybe?!”

“I already told you how to fix it. You could have been helping the pretty boy the past few days and possibly gotten closer to sorting things, but then you had to be all brooding and tortured and stomp off like a teenager.” Eros considers him. “Unrelated, but have you ever actually seen a bird brood? I’m curious, if you took that bucket off, would there be actual similarities?”

Jason tells himself the reason he clenches his fists is because of the Olympian’s flippant manner, and not because he called Tim ‘pretty’.

Which, no, not relevant.

“You said I’d be going out of my mind over T—Red Robin,” Jason growls. “That including hearing voices? Or seeing things that aren’t there?”

“It might? To be honest, I have no idea,” Eros says with a yawn. “I’ve never had anyone with your particular…history exposed to my blood. There’s any number of things it could be.”

“My history,” Jason repeats.

“Well, to start with the most glaringly obvious, you’ve returned from the dead. There’s an odor Revenants like you give off…hm, sort of like dirt and petrichor. If they’re brought back properly, I mean, otherwise it’s all rotting flesh and bodily fluids.” He shudders. “And there’s the unmistakable seal of the All-Caste on you. Ducra’s work, I’m guessing.”

Jason’s mouth twists. “And you can just…tell all that.”

“It’s written in the story of your soul,” Eros intones, and then looks smug, “among other things.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen too much in my time to go for that poetic New Age crap.”

“Oh, it’s far from New Age, boy, it’s from an olden time when men were men—”

“And sheep ran scared?” Jason interrupts. “Spare me the walk down memory lane and just answer my questions.

“You haven’t really asked me anything yet.”

“How long do I have before I completely lose it?”

“Again, no idea. Though no one’s ever made it more than two weeks, and by that point, there’s not really much left to save, if you know what I mean.”

Kind of figured that.

“And before it gets to that point? Is there a way of putting off the…urges?” he almost gags on the word.

“Depends.”

“On?”

Eros smirks. “On how far the object of your obsession is willing to go to save you.”

Rage frissons through Jason’s body. “Fuck you. That’s not happening.”

“Then you’d better get your affairs in order and say your goodbyes, et cetera…”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Oh, do try,” Eros sniggers. “Birdboy took great pains to tell me there’s no way into this shiny prison cell unless you unlock the door from the outside. And if you walk in here now…well, you might end up seeing those troubling hallucinations and hearing those whispers a little more clearly following a second exposure.”

Jason snarls with rage and punches the glass in front of Eros’s face; it doesn’t even make a dent, and his knuckles immediately burn with pain.

“Feel better now?” Eros simpers, and then his face goes cold. “I don’t care if it’s with or without your little crush, it’s in everyone’s best interest to get my toys out of the world and back in my hands as soon as possible. You two have already withstood enough tragedy, don’t you think?”

“That written on my soul, too?” Jason spits but doesn’t wait for an answer. He whirls around and stalks away from the containment unit. This was a waste of time, and he needs to get out of here before Tim returns.

He’s not sure what he’d do if he actually ran into the other vigilante just now.

But one thing’s for sure: he’s going to have to start taking this seriously.

Knowing Tim’s already investigating the bow and arrow angle, Jason decides on a different take. There’s something not entirely above board about Eros, and Jason has no illusions the guy wouldn’t screw them over in a second. He’s calculating, like Tim, except in the Olympian’s case, the only one to benefit from that calculation is himself.

And there are some things he says that don’t jive. Jason’s not sure what exactly he’s been picking up on—going over all of their interactions, there’s nothing that stands out—but his gut is telling him there’s more going on here than the Olympian is telling.

The problem is, who the hell is going to help him out with this?

He can’t work with Tim, for obvious reasons, and contacting Bruce or Dick to use their Themysciran connections is right out. He doesn’t have any of his own, not really—Donna doesn’t really talk to him anymore. Even if he did have an in somewhere, he’d want to have at least enough background on the issue to understand whatever mindfuck logic usually comes along when dealing with Olympians or magic or anything like that.

He needs information, and he knows who he needs to reach out to to get it since Tim isn’t an option. He’s not looking forward to it.

It’s always a toss-up if she’ll help or not.

Or make him beg or demand a favor in exchange.

Though at this point, the sooner he unravels the shitstorm that his life is devolving into, the better. Then he can hightail it out of Gotham and not come back until he and Tim have forgotten all about this little bit of awkwardness. Perhaps get back to the Ally-Possibly-Friend-Kinda-Brother-Sort Of? thing.

And so, before he can talk himself out of it, he taps into the private comm line to Oracle, the one he purposefully keeps muted whenever he’s back in town.

“Red Hood,” the familiar digital voice acknowledges a few seconds later.

“I need a favor.”

“Will wonders never cease.”

“I’ve been asking myself that for years.”

“You’ve been pretty adamant about not wanting help from me,” she remarks, and even with the lack of intonation he can hear the rebuke and rolls his eyes.

“Look, can we skip the guilt-trip? I’ll owe you.”

“I know you will.”

“It’s more your research skills than hacking.”

“Oh?”

“I need to know as much as you can find about the Greek god Eros.”

Oracle is quiet for a long moment, and he wonders if she hasn’t logged off, but then she says, “Does this have anything to do with Red Robin asking me to watch for reports of individuals carrying a bow and arrows over the past few weeks?”

“It might,” Jason allows, a smile in his voice at the mention of Tim. He forces that back down, mentally castigating himself.

None of that!

“Are you two working a case?”

“Sort of. Not together—” Definitely not together! “—but same case. We’re approaching it from different angles.”

“But you’re reaching out to me, which you don’t do unless things have the potential to take a turn for the worse.”

“I’m reaching out to you so that they won’t have to later on, and that’s all I’m going to say. Can you help me or not?”

Another pause.

“It will take some time.”

“We’ve got less than two weeks. Think you can manage that?”

“What did you boys get yourselves into this time?” Oracle sighs. Her cooperation is implied, and Jason relaxes a hair.

Things are going to be fine.

“Thanks,” he says, and then pauses. “So, when you spoke to him—Red Robin, I mean. How did he sound?”

Or not.

⁂⁂⁂

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