#There must be some system of protection in place that doesn’t allow her to escape even through summon.

[villain-in-love]

I wonder… is it possible for Simeon to summon Belial? I think it should be possible – if humans can summon demons, why can’t angels? Another question is whether he can summon her directly to Celestial Realm…

Because, to think of it, it might be a pretty easy way to deal with their whole long-distance relationship arrangement.

I can imagine Michael storming into Simeon’s room being like “Did you just summon a goddamn princess of hell to us?? Again???” while Simeon and Belial are casually sitting here, drinking tea.

[bvckys-doll]

Let me take care of you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Bucky broke up with (Y/N) a month ago and she still doesn’t know why. When she decides to visit the HQ for the first time after their break up to get the rest of her stuff, the whole team is out on a mission. (Y/N) is not prepared to meet her ex soon after her arrival. Heavily injured.

Warnings: bloody wound. (Y/N) needs to stitch him up. Blood, duh. Angsty fic with a happy ending!

Author’s note: This one-shot sat in my Bucky folder for too long so now I finally got the chance to post it. Italics is the past. I hope you like it and might leave a comment in the reply section! PLEASE! Take care of yourself, stay safe and healthy! Cosplay the Winter Soldier and PUT ON A FCKING MASK!

You can find my main masterlist here!

It was a strange feeling to walk through the hallways of the headquarters without being able to call it her home. Bucky and (Y/N) had broken off their relationship a month ago and it was still hard to process everything. Normally she wouldn’t be so tense and would walk down the hallway without a bad feeling, but the bad feeling was omnipresent.

After more than a year of their relationship, it was Bucky’s decision to end it. It had happened out of the blue, but he thought it was for the best, as the missions were getting harder and harder each time and Barnes knew that (Y/N) was worried sick.

He had often come home in the evening and found her still awake on the couch. She could not sleep if she knew that the rest of the team was on a risky mission that she could not or was not allowed to participate in.

Bucky loved (Y/N). He still knew that. Yet he had never said it out loud. Bucky knew after the first three months of their relationship that he loved her, but he was too much of a coward to tell (Y/N) the truth. What if she turned him down? What if she thought they were moving to fast? So, Bucky kept it that way and tried to show her his affection in different ways.

But in the end, the former Winter Soldier knew he could no longer keep it from her. So, James chose the simplest method: to let her go. Of course, he knew from the start that (Y/N) wouldn’t just leave. After a year of dating, she wouldn’t just leave if Bucky told her to. She would ask questions, probably cry, and beg him to try again. There was only one option: he would have to break her heart.

~

With a broad smile on her lips, (Y/N) opened the door to her room, while trying not to drop the plate of the fresh cookies she had baked and brought with her.

“Baby, you’re not gonna believe what Sam just said. ” (Y/N) chuckled and put the plate on the coffee table next to the couch when Bucky came out of the bathroom. Before she could speak up again, she paused, and her eyes widened. His eyes were swollen and red. He must have cried. A lot.

“James, what’s going on?” (Y/N) approached him and put her hands on his cheeks. Meanwhile Bucky was clenching his hands in fists to prevent himself from pulling (Y/N) close. The next words that passed his lips would not only break her heart, but also him.

“I want you to go.”

“W-what? I don’t understand. Shall I go down to the living room and leave you alone?” (Y/N) tried to make sense of his words. Another tear ran down Bucky’s cheek. Immediately she wiped it away and watched him anxiously. Slowly, he grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands from his face, whereupon (Y/N) looked at him completely disillusioned.

“I can’t be with you anymore. We are too different” James replied and stepped past her as (Y/N) froze at her place. She couldn’t quite believe what he had just said. Before she could say another word, he continued and pulled the final straw “I don’t love you…and I never loved you. This...was all just a pastime for me to feel a little better after everything that’s happened to me.”

Her back was still turned to him as Bucky saw how (Y/N) now clenched her hands into fists as well and a sob escaped her lips. How he would have loved to take her in his arms. Tell her it was all a lie to protect her. But he didn't. He stood firm and left it at that.

Without another word, (Y/N) turned on her heel and left their shared bedroom, pulling the door shut behind her with a loud bang.

~

Since the confrontation, they hadn't seen each other or exchanged another word. Natasha had packed a few things and left with (Y/N) only a few hours later after the incident. Natasha hadn't spoken a word to him since that day either.

Meanwhile, (Y/N) had been staying in a hotel for the past four weeks because she couldn’t find a new apartment so quickly. In New York it is never easy to find a good apartment and most of them are incredibly expensive. Despite (Y/N)’s constant reluctance, Tony insisted on paying for her accommodation at the hotel because she was one of his best employees.

Most of the time she worked from her hotel room, which Tony fortunately allowed her to do. Still, (Y/N) knew it couldn’t go on like this forever. Sooner or later, she’d see Bucky and the pain would come back.

According to the team’s entries in the system, everyone was on a mission near Rio de Janeiro. No one had told her why and for how long, but she knew they were not back yet. At least, that is what (Y/N) thought.

Since she still had some clothes and other stuff in their old, shared room, (Y/N) wanted to get them before the rest of the team started running around the headquarters again. So, with a moving box under her arm, she made her way to the room where she entered the usual code.

Beep!

Pushing the door open with her hip, (Y/N) groped for the light switch with her free hand. Briefly, (Y/N) squinted her eyes as the bright light illuminated the room. Why did Bucky always leave the curtains closed when he was away?

With a glance around the room, her question was answered.

The room has been left in a great mess. His shirts, shoes and sweatpants were scattered on the floor and his bed looked as if he had just got up. The cushions were either at the foot of the bed or in another corner of the room.

One of the signs for his nightmares. Things that (Y/N) wouldn’t have to deal with anymore.

Murmuring, she made room on his desk and set the box down. The first mission: the wardrobe. One of the doors was already open and one of Bucky’s knives laid on the floor. She opened the other door as well and pulled her clothes and blouses off the hangers before carefully packing them into the box.

Now it came to the sweaters.

To be honest, she sometimes didn’t even remember which ones belonged to her and which ones to Bucky, since she had usually put his shirts on instead of her own.

While (Y/N) was busy with her other t-shirts, Bucky’s red Henley shirt fell into her arms. Sighing, she held the thin, dark red material in her hands and looked at the thin seam. She probably had to mend the shirt five times already.

Suddenly the door of the room opened, and (Y/N) turned around in shock when she saw Bucky standing in the door frame. For a short moment none of them moved and they just stared at each other. (Y/N) was still holding his shirt in her hand before she quickly threw it behind her on the bed.

“What are you doing here?” they asked at the same time before Bucky raised an eyebrow and added a bit abruptly, “I live here. What’s your excuse?”

“I’m just going to get the rest of my stuff. I’ll be gone before you can count to three”, she snorted at his tone “Actually, I was hoping that- …you’re bleeding.”

(Y/N)’s gaze went to his hand, which seemed to squeeze a wound. Not successful, however, because the blood swelled through his fingers. Bucky briefly looked down at himself, pressing his hand further into his side, and gritting his teeth briefly “No shit, Sherlock.”

“Do you think now is the right time to make jokes, Barnes?” (Y/N) growled in a serious tone as Bucky pushed past her towards the bathroom. He got out of his jacket and closed his eyes while gritting his teeth. In the bright light of the ceiling lamp, (Y/N) could see the blood in his hair and the slight scratches on his face. Apparently, it had been a pretty rough mission.

“Why didn’t you go straight to Helen with an injury like that?” (Y/N) watched him throw his leather jacket into the bathtub and then leaned on the edge of the sink. Before James was about to lose consciousness, (Y/N) quickly came up to him and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, while his other hand was still pressing on the wound. He had already lost a lot of blood.

With the last strength James had left in his legs, he made it to his bed with (Y/N)’s help, where he laid down and squeezed his eyes in pain. (Y/N) quickly ran into the bathroom and dug the first aid kit out of the drawer before sitting on the edge of the bed next to Bucky, who was breathing slowly.

“You don’t need to help me” his voice was raspy as his eyelids slowly dropped.

“Hey, you’re staying with me” (Y/N) patted his cheek “Where are the others?”

(Y/N) took the scissors out of the box and used them to cut his shirt open so she could get a better view of his wound. His voice was still raspy as he replied, "There were too many. They surprised us and we weren't prepared for it. Some bastard caught me pushing Steve out of the way. What's he got that stupid shield for if it doesn't even help?"

"Is the bullet still in there?", (Y/N) asked him as she pressed a couple of compresses into his hand so he could use them to stop the bleeding, which was slowly but surely receding. Relieved, (Y/N) slumped her shoulders as he shook his head before replying, "Helen wasn't there and I didn't feel like looking for anyone else. I don't necessarily trust the others. Clint flew me in quickly and then flew right back. I told him the wound was already closing up."

“This lie could have killed you, you know that, right? If I hadn’t been here, you would have collapsed in the bathroom and probably died of blood loss.” (Y/N) answered as she tried to get the thread through the head of the needle, which was not as easy as she thought. Probably it was also because her hands were shaking, which Bucky noticed when he watched (Y/N) “I would have made it somehow.”

But the way (Y/N) looked down at him was enough for him to shut up. Knowing it was a straight lie. And he had to admit that he wouldn’t have cared if it had happened like that. (Y/N) was gone. He had lost her, and that was all his fault.

Attentively James watched her as she prepared everything and checked again and again if the wound was still bleeding heavily. After it had slowly but surely subsided, (Y/N) removed the compress from his stomach and glanced at the gaping wound. Sighing, she took the disinfectant and dripped some onto a cloth before looking at James, who understood immediately before he said “I'm used to the pain, you know that. Don't worry about it. "

“You don't need to play hero here, James. I know how much that it hurts.” (Y/N) muttered, holding the cloth tightly before pressing it to the wound. Briefly, Bucky's chest heaved, and he growled in pain, breaking (Y/N)'s heart in the process, before she finally managed to take the cloth down and throw it away.

Quickly she took some of the numbing gel and smeared it around the wound before looking to Bucky, “I'm stitching it up now as best as I can. I'll have Helen look at it as soon as she gets back.”

Without another word from Bucky, (Y/N) began stitching up his wound. She was still shaking a little, but slowly it was getting better. Finally, she bandaged the wound with a compress and took care of the small scratches on his cheek.

They hadn't been this close in a long time. (Y/N) didn't even notice how she held her breath as she ran the disinfectant over the wounds. Bucky gritted his teeth again for a moment, but his gaze didn't avert from her.

Calmly, she stuck a band-aid over the wound and gave it another quick brush with her thumb as it blurted out of Bucky, "I lied."

Bucky watched her reaction carefully as she removed her hand from his cheek and held his gaze. His gaze wandered to the ceiling, kneading his hands nervously. He added, "When I said you were just a pastime and I didn't love you, I lied. That's not true. "

"Then why do you say such a thing?", (Y/N) asked him in a calm voice that didn't show if she was amazed, sad, or angry. Bucky himself was afraid of any of these reactions.

Desperately, he tried to find the right words "I was worried about you. This life with me could break you. You haven’t slept for weeks because of me. Because you're always so worried about me and while doing so, you forget to take care of you. When I…come back from missions, you're still awake because you want to know that I got home safely. You…you're too good for me and I don't want to destroy you like I've already destroyed everything else around me. I got you-. "

"You've already destroyed me, James. ", (Y/N) interrupted, looking at him with glazed eyes. This was exactly what he tried to avoid. He never wanted to be the reason why she felt bad, but now his worst fear had come true.

"You successfully broke my heart when you told me I was nothing more than a silly pastime you're done with now. I thought that you…I thought that we will go on like this forever. Do you know how happy you've made me? You were the one I could imagine anything with. I never wanted kids. I never wanted to get married, only to get divorced three years later. I never wanted this. But then you came along and showed me that there is a man who could make this all a possibility. A family. A life together. . . "

Tears were streaming down his cheeks when he saw her sitting in front of him throwing all this at his head. He had been such a coward. If he had just talked to her and told her everything, it would never have come to this.

But he was scared. Scared of being rejected again like all the other women did it before. But his (Y/N) wasn’t like them, but he couldn’t bear the thought that she might be.

“I love you, doll. I really do.” Bucky sobbed and wiped the tears from her eyes as (Y/N) looked at him and her eyes were just as swollen as his own before he continued, “I love you more than anything and I-I was stupid because I once again thought only of myself and…and not of the consequences. I love you and I don’t want to lose you. You’re all I have left. ”

Sniffing, (Y/N) looked at the man she loved more than anything. How he lay there on the bed, showing his most vulnerable side. He always appeared so strong in front of everyone so they would not see the real Bucky. But this man was so exhausted by everything that had happened to him. He didn’t want to have those thoughts. These doubts. That fear. He just wanted to live a happy and fulfilled life with (Y/N).

Slowly, she moved closer to him on the mattress and brushed the hair out of his face, which was still a bit sticky because of the blood. Gently, she leaned down to him and embraces him as best she could without touching his wound.

At first, he remained calm, then he wrapped his arms around her center and pulled her into his arms until finally she lay next to him in the bed. The two were sobbing in each other’s arms with (Y/N) running her fingers through his hair. Again, and again.

“I love you, James Barnes. So so much.” (Y/N) muttered as she buried her face in his neck while she was still fondled the back of his head. “But I swear to God, if you do this again, I’ll send Natasha after you and you know what she is capable of.”

“Of course, I know that. I taught her well.” Bucky mumbled while he held her close “I’ll never let you go again. I promise.”

[toointofiction]

How The Queen of Elfhame Learned to Deal with Insufferable Idiots

Hey, cuties!! I have been thinking of writing this little one-shot for a while now and I finally did. Check it out on the link below or keep reading and let me know what you think.

Pairing: Jurdan; Cardan x Jude

Genre: Romance

Rating: Explicit/Mature

Summary: Jude is pissed off and with no other way to let off steam, Cardan comes up with a creative and very effective idea.

Jude is pissed. She’s about two seconds away from running someone through with her sword. Or maybe severing their head from their shoulders. Or arranging a public mass execution. Anything sounds good at the moment. How is it that the entirety of her Living Council consists of idiots recklessly testing her patience? She can practically feel her sword-hand itching and twitching in anticipation. Is it too much to ask for a little competence? Sometimes it’s as if their sole purpose is to enrage her to the point where the only coherent thoughts she has, are homicidal ones.

Fuming, Jude stalks back to her bedchambers, Cardan effortlessly matching her pace. He has an amused look on his handsome face, stealing glances at her every now and then. As if none of what just happened had any sort of effect on him. He should not be having this much fun at her expense. Especially, right now. He is putting his life in danger. Her King seems to think that just because she loves him, he is somehow safe from her wrath. Which may or may not be true, Jude thinks.

She cannot count the times Cardan angered her. More often than those idiots. She seems to recall the time he thought to confront a vicious troll all on his own, with no proper training, protection, or backup. In the middle of the night. She also remembers finding him on the ground, bleeding, and dizzy from iron poisoning. She had been absolutely furious then. She told herself that as soon as he healed, he would get an earful. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to yell at him. She scolded him, of course. What he did was completely idiotic, but her anger faded quickly. All she felt was relief that he was okay. That the injuries he sustained weren’t serious or life-threatening. Still, it needed about a whole week for the iron to leave his system. The same cannot be said for her Living Council, however. She still wants to kill them, and she doubts her anger will fade any time soon.

Normally, when Jude is this angry, she takes it out on training with the Court of Shadows. To her misfortune, however, she sent them all on a mission two days ago. Just my luck. Jude signs audibly and raises her hand to her temple which feels just about ready to crack open from unrelenting pressure. She must start making some serious personnel changes, otherwise, they’ll soon have to rename it the Dead Council. She also needs to find a way to let go of her anger somehow, before she does something drastic and irreversible. Her King isn’t too keen on the way she likes to solve problems. Even if that way is more than called for sometimes. It’s at that moment that she feels Cardan’s slender arm wrap around her waist, and his lips graze the top of her head.

“Come on, I can help you relax.”

“Nothing can help me relax, now.”

“Don’t start making assumptions just yet,” he responds. His eyes shine in amusement, a small, mischievous smile grazes his lips.

With one arm still around her waist, he uses the other to open the door to their bedchamber and guide her through. As she walks ahead of him and slumps on the bed, she hears him whisper to the guards outside not to allow anyone to disturb them. What is he up to? Jude didn’t have to wonder for long. Cardan appears in front of her, that mischievous smile still on his lips, places his hands on her shoulders, and pushes her back on the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you, I’ll help you relax.”

With that, he leans down and gives her a deep, long kiss. Just way he knows she likes it. She feels his hands on her knees, dragging the material of her dress up. Higher and higher until he has to stop and pull the whole thing off her. As soon as the dress is off, he is back to kissing her lips, her neck, right between her breasts. She can feel his hand moving from her ribs to her breast, squeezing lightly, playing with her nipple. The other, he guides right between her legs, squeezing her once before he gently, torturously stroking her, making her legs twitch. Jude lets out an involuntary moan. She can feel him grinning against her skin. Smug bastard. Before she can even muster a word, he pushed a finger inside of her, making her thoughts scatter away from her, another moan, a very loud one, escapes her lips.

“Okay, fine,” she breaths out. “This is relaxing.”

“I told you.”

His mouth moves to one breast as he pushes another finger inside her. She arches her back, squeezing his hand between her thighs. She tangles her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, feeling his groan deep into her core. She’s not going to last long. He seems to realise this. His hand moves frantically between her thighs, his thumb pressing on her clit. He abandons her breast and gives her another deep kiss as she falls over the edge. Her climax hits her hard. Cardan keeps on kissing her, swallowing her scream. He enjoys making her lose all control. She knows this and it should probably annoy her a little bit. But how could it, when losing control feels so damn good.

She tries to catch her breath after the last of her orgasm fades away. Cardan doesn’t let her, though. He never does. He guides his lips between her breasts again, over her belly, until she feels him between her thighs, still sensitive from the last orgasm. He gives her a gentle kiss that sends shocks through her body, before he starts to feast on her, aggressive and wild. Jude feels another climax coming. Her muscles tense, her eyes locked on her husband, her King as he drives her over the edge again. She wraps her legs around Cardan’s head like an unbreakable collar, pushes both hands into his hair, gripping him in place. If he stops right now, she’s going to be angry again. A few short moments pass, and she falls over the edge again. She moans loudly, knows that the guards outside can definitely hear her, but she doesn’t care. Not when Cardan’s mouth is still on her, helping her ride out her orgasm.

A few moments pass by, as Jude tries to catch her breath. Cardan lets her this time. He rises up the length of her body, that smug expression still on his face. He kisses her once more and she tastes herself in his mouth. He lays next to her, wraps an arm around her limp body, and pulls her to him.

“I guess I don’t have to train my anger away, anymore.”

“Glad to hear it,” Cardan says, dropping a kiss at the top of her head.

A thought pops up inside Jude’s head, and she can feel her mouth stretching into a wicked smile. She turns to face Cardan, “I should probably reciprocate now, right?”

Cardan grins like a Cheshire cat and with a slap on her ass he responds, “I guess you should.”

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

[jonthethinker]

I’m really a broken record about this, but I can’t help but feel that the Mighty Nein’s story is the perfect tale about alienation and loneliness, and what it really means to recover from those experiences.

When I think of alienation in the context of Critical Role, my first thought is always Beau. Partially because I like and relate to her the most, so the bias is certainly there, but also because it’s just such a clear and concise story about a young woman made to feel utterly and miserably on her own by her every experience, and how much of a shocking reprieve it’s been for her to be pulled from that way of life. But every member of the Nein really does center their stories around, in some way, having been alone.

Fjord the bullied orphan, the Vandran impersonator, Uk’otoa’s tool.

Jester the hidden child, with an agoraphobic mother, a wandering and increasingly more distant god and best friend, a father never known to her.

Caduceus the good son, keeper of the empty home of a family pursuing destiny without him.

Caleb the murderer, the asylum escapee, the failed prodigy.

Veth the eccentric, the drown, first socially isolated and later systemically so, kept from the two beacons of love her life had ever granted her.

Yasha the runaway widow, the orphan-maker, the devil’s plaything.

Even Mollymauk, the twice buried, born hollow and desperate to fill that great big empty with friends and color and harmless lies aplenty, all to escape what the silence might have had to say.

And it’s beautiful that these lost and incomplete souls came together to form something bigger than them, organs becoming whole in the form of a body:

Beauregard the Spine; steady and strong, although not without her creaks and aches, ready to hold the Nein to shape and make sure everything has its place, and more than prepared to bear the weight when the pressure is on.

Fjord the Voice, lost without a body, but now that he’s found one, he’s ready to say with conviction whatever must be said to hold that body together, and shocking though it is to him, it works.

Jester the Heart, pumping joy and care and all the little necessary frivolities that make life worth living throughout the greater whole, and with such an important purpose, its no surprise much of the body is designed specifically to protect her, whether she asks or not.

Caduceus the Senses, and all the other little intuitions that keep us out of trouble, because while he doesn’t claim to know much, he more often than not feels exactly what is needed.

Caleb the Brain, sharp and rational and precise, but also prone to anxiety when left to his own devices or disconnected from the whole, works best when fed the big picture by the rest of the body instead of coming up with it all on his own.

Veth the Guts, squirmy and squiggly and not prone to appreciating her beauty and purpose, but made of steel when the body is on the line, and seems to know deep down what the others need to keep them going.

Yasha the Muscle, well acquainted with pain and suffering, but through both the trials of her experience and the comfort and rest allowed to her by the greater body, she’s grown strong, but that strength has come with the fine motor control necessary for the tenderness and gentleness her nature guides her towards.

And Mollymauk the Spirit, more idea than man at this point, forever permeating the actions of the body and guiding them towards a better path, to leave the world better than they found it.

Eight directionless individuals coming together to form one great big something, bigger than the sum of its parts, and ready to take the whole world by storm. A gigantic resounding rejection of the path of alienation and loneliness these hapless creatures were tossed onto. And isn’t that just wonderful improvised storytelling?

[chocoluckchipz]

Not a Spying, Not a Fake Date

The day Marinette met Adrien Agreste—the hottest supermodel alive, an only son of fashion icon Gabriel Agreste, and her long-time, embarrassing celebrity crush—was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. Instead, not only did she present herself as a total klutz, but his friend Nino had stolen Alya only two weeks later.

On a Saturday afternoon, no less!

Don’t get her wrong. Marinette was happy that Alya finally was interested in a guy more than the latest scoop. And she absolutely didn't mind skipping one of their weekly get-togethers in favour of her BFF going on a coffee date with their new classmate. Marinette wouldn’t be bored. She could work on one of her projects or play video games… if the day wouldn't be so perfectly gorgeous and sunny. Wasting it inside would’ve been a crime. A walk around a local farmer’s market, on the other hand, sounded just about right. And if said market happened to be across the street from where her friend was meeting Nino, that was a pure coincidence.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Marinette was absolutely not spying on anyone, and if she glanced the couples’ way once or twice, it was only to appease her morbid curiosity. No harm done. She wasn’t interfering. She couldn’t even hear what the two of them were talking about. Surely not about Adrien. Or her. Or her and Adrien. Nope. No way. Impossible. She wasn’t curious at all.

“You know you aren’t very subtle?”

Marinette froze, her blood running cold. She knew that voice. It was ingrained in her memory by now. But there was no way Adrien Agreste was standing right behind her, whispering in her ear. It must be nothing but a product of her imagination. Yes! A hallucination of a post-pubescent girl with a crush of irrational proportions.

Still, she spun around just to check if it was time to make an appointment with a therapi—  

Her jaw hit the floor, eyes widening. The man in front of her sounded like Adrien, yet he barely looked the part. Most of his hair was hidden under a beanie, a pair of glasses framed his face. Baggy, black clothes covered his body. His chiselled jaw sported a light stubble, and a hippy backpack was slung over his shoulders. Not a shred of his classy self left, replaced by a sexy, casual chic version of the man.

“Adrien?”

He winked. “Looking beautiful as always, Princess.”

Her cheeks flamed despite her knowing better. He’d given her that nickname only because she was a clumsy mess, not because he was trying to flirt. Princess, aka "damsel in distress", someone in need of being saved. In her case, frequently being caught before she hit the ground as she kept tripping around him. Stupid Agreste and his stupidly handsome face.

A movement in the cafe caught her eye, and Marinette nervously grinned. Adrien was Nino’s best friend. There was no way he wouldn't know where Nino was taking Alya for their first date, which meant Marinette better be very careful in her words and actions, or else she wouldn’t be the damsel for much longer. The title of a “Creepy Stalker” didn't sound the bit least appealing to her.

“You look nice too,” she said, looking her best innocent self. “Different. I barely recognized you. I like the glasses. And stubble. Stubble is nice. Little of it. Not too much. Too much would look shabby. But yours looks good. Perfect. Not shabby at all.”

He chuckled, a corner of his lips curling into a smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. It was one. A compliment.”

“Why, thank you.”

Another couple left the cafe, catching both of their attention. Marinette quickly shifted her gaze to the apples at the stall she was standing by. As long as she acted natural, Adrien wouldn't suspect a thing.

“So, what are you doing here today?”

She inwardly groaned and stashed a few apples in a paper bag. “Apples. I’m here for the apples.”

“What a coincidence.” Adrien picked one of the red ones and twirled it in his hand. “I’m here for the apples too. By the way… Nino just asked for the bill, so if you were planning to do more shopping in other places, I’d say that’s our cue to pay for these and get ready to leave.”

Marinette glared his way, her whole face burning up. That cocky smile, that glint in his eyes. Of course, he’d catch her. But she wouldn’t give up so easily or she wasn’t Marinette Dupain-Cheng: her papa’s pumpkin, her mother’s sweetheart, the future of Paris’ fashion! “I’m not spying on anyone if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I wouldn't dare to accuse you of such a thing.” He grinned, putting the apple back. “But… may I suggest a few tweaks to your disguise? You know, in case you’re still up for some non-spying activities today.”

“I don’t need any tweaks. I’ve been here for an hour, and they haven’t noticed me. I could tail them all day if I wanted to, and they would not notice me.”

She froze, the last of her hopes to escape this unscathed vanishing right before her eyes. Curse this man! It was his fault her brain was shutting down around him.

The corner of Adrien’s lips curled in a smile as he leaned closer. “You might be well hidden amongst the rainbow of produce here, but, believe me, as soon as you step outside, that bright red hoodie of yours will give you away instantly.”

“In your dreams,” Marinette huffed, folding her arms over her chest. “This hoodie is the only thing in my closet Alya hasn't seen yet. My sunglasses cover half of my face, and I let my hair down instead of my usual ponytails. They would never recognize me.”

“Well, I did, didn’t I?”

“That’s because you came close. They are at a distance.”

“Nino will notice someone trailing them in a bright red hoodie. Believe me, that man lets no detail escape him. But give me five minutes, and your own parents won’t recognize you even up close.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “What for? The date is over.”

“Far from it. Nino planned coffee, a walk around the city, and a movie. He bought the tickets this morning.”

Adrien seemed to be confident in what he was saying, but Marinette couldn’t trust someone she’d recently met over her best friend, even if she was in love with him. “I don’t believe you.”

“There is only one way to find out if I’m lying.” He stretched his hand towards her. “Shall we?”

Shall they what? Why was he even here? She had to get out of the house for physical rest and mental health. What was his excuse?

“And what are you doing here, M Agreste?”

“I told you already.” The corners of his lips curled up in a sly grin. “Apples.”

“Right. And you went all out on a disguise for that?”

“Precisely.” He grinned wider. “I also knew Nino was having a date nearby, and being the great friend I am, I didn’t want them to see me and think I’m spying on them.”

She wanted to smack that shit-eating grin off his face. But Nino and Alya were exiting the cafe, and Adrien tilted his head to the side, his hand still outstretched toward her. “So? Want to not spy on them some more, or do you have other plans for the day?”

No, she didn’t, and perhaps she should be smarter, but something inside her was melting by the second, Adrien’s smile slowly massacring any scraps of reason she still had. “If you tell anyone, I’ll deny every word.”

“No one shall ever know.” He grinned. “Now, may I suggest a few tweaks to your disguise? To minimize our chances of being discovered.”

“Fine, but be quick. They are walking away.”

Adrien nodded and pointed to her hoodie. “Take this off.”

There was no time for questions, so she silently obeyed. The moment Marinette removed the garment, Adrien was already pulling his black sweater over her head.

“Wait! What are you—“

“Black is less conspicuous.”

“But what about you? It’s chilly, and your shirt doesn’t look very warm.”

“I’ll be fine. I wore that sweater for fashion, not because I was cold.” Stuffing her hoodie in his backpack, he looked her over once more. His face suddenly brightened. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out to the street in the direction of the nearest convenience store.

“We don’t have time for this,” Marinette protested as they neared the door of said establishment. “We’ve already lost them.”

“No, we didn't. We might not see them, but I know where they are.”

“I know that, too,” she grumbled. “In Paris. Where else? Europe, Eurasia. Planet Earth, Solar system. Hard to miss if you fly toward the Sun. ”

Adrien laughed. Long and heartfelt, the sound of his laughter brightened the space around them. There was still a glint of joy in his eye and a hint of mischief in his voice when he recomposed himself. “Nino spent hours planning their route yesterday, and yours truly was helping him. I know where they are headed. We’ll catch up.”

Hesitantly relenting, she followed him in the store, and once inside, Adrien disappeared somewhere between the rows. When he walked out, he was carrying a hairbrush, a couple of pins and hair ties, a small mirror, a plastic tablecloth, and a can of temporary hair dye. Quickly paid for, Adrien pulled her into the nearby alley. "Do you trust me enough for a blind makeover?"

A loaded question. She hardly knew anything about the man behind the carefully crafted image of his public persona. But Marinette loved surprises, and it wasn’t like Adrien even had anything that could potentially cause serious damage to her appearance in his hands.

“You aren’t going to cut my hair, are you?”

“Wouldn’t dare to even think about it.”

“Strangle me with that tablecloth?”

“It’s to protect your clothes from the dye. And before you freak out, it’s a temporary one. It’ll wash out with the first shower.”

At least it was pink—her favourite colour. "Don't make me regret this, Agreste."

“I promise, you won’t.”

She sent a glare his way. “If I do, you’re dead.”

Adrien laughed and slightly bowed. “Your trust means the world to me, Princess. Now, if you’ll allow me, I shall start.”

Marinette nodded, removing the sunglasses from her face. Adrien quickly draped the plastic tablecloth around her shoulders. The moment his hands ran through her hair, her brain short-circuited. It felt like heaven. Pleasant tingles cascaded down her skin at every touch as he brushed, tied, and clipped for what felt like an eternity yet was way too short of a period before he whispered in her ear, “Close your eyes and hold your breath for me for a moment.”

That would not be a problem; Marinette wasn’t sure she was breathing for the last few minutes anyway. He was too close. She could feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his breath, and that was doing things to her she’d rather not experience in a random alley off a busy street in the middle of Paris.

Oblivious to her internal turmoil, Adrien sprayed her hair with the temporary hair dye and proudly pronounced his job finished. The plastic tablecloth off her shoulders, he pushed a small mirror in her hands. “You can open your eyes and look now.”

Her speech was gone the moment her eyes caught her reflection. Most of her bangs were pinned back in the middle, only some of the hair framing her face on either side. The rest was gathered in two cute, messy buns on top of her head that had pink highlights all over them, something the tips of her bangs sported as well. It was a look she’d never thought of doing herself, yet somehow found herself loving more with each passing moment.

“Not bad,” she said, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Are you secretly a stylist by any chance?”

Adrien chuckled, putting her sunglasses back on her nose. “Nope. But I did grow up in a fashion tycoon’s house watching makeup artists transform people to an unrecognizable degree with simple tricks.”

“Well, you have a talent, M Agreste. I really like this.”

"Why, thank you." Adrien grinned. "I do like the outcome, too. You were always cute, but now you're straight-up adorable. Like a little mouse. An extremely lovely little mouse. ”

Marinette looked away, taking a step towards a street. He wasn’t flirting. He was just complimenting his own work. He wasn’t flirting. “As long as Alya doesn’t recognize me.”

“She won’t.” Adrien followed her. “Hey! Maybe we should hold hands and pretend to be on a date? They’ll never figure us out if we do that.”

Her eyes widened as he offered her his hand. “Are you… are you asking me on a fake date?”

“Do you want me to ask you on a fake date?”

“I’ve never liked anything fake,” she huffed. “Says a lot about one’s character.”

Adrien chuckled. “Then it’s good that all I’m asking is to hold hands. For a better disguise, of course. Not faking. Real hand-holding.”

An earnest smile on his lips, he stepped closer, silently waiting for her reply.

Marinette swallowed, her eyes falling to his outstretched hand, one that looked more and more appealing to hold by the second. How would it feel to have her palm in his? If she chickened out now, she might not get another chance to find out. “Only for the purpose of a disguise.”

"Only for that," Adrien assured, entwining their fingers together, his gaze on her soft and gentle. "Allow me to be your guide on this non-spying, not-a-fake-date mission, Princess."

His words fell on deaf ears as Marinette struggled to keep her composure. Big, strong, and very warm. Somehow safe and secure. Like a lover’s embrace. Holding Adrien’s hand was everything Marinette didn’t know she needed up until now.

He must have noticed something was amiss, cracking a dumb joke to break the awkwardness as they started their walk. Marinette tried her best not to laugh, but Adrien kept going, each joke worse than the preceding one. Ten minutes in, and she couldn't believe she ever had a crush on this… man-child. Adrien was the dorkiest dork she'd ever met. A dork who asked too many questions. So many it felt like he wanted to know everything there was to Marinette. She didn't mind. There were quite a few things she wanted to know about Adrien, as well, and what better way to ask if not as a retaliation to his inquiries?

About an hour later, they spotted Nino and Alya on a promenade by the Seine, walking hand in hand just like them. Her friend beamed, laughing so hard, Marinette could swear there were tears in Alya’s eyes. Nino looked no less happy, grinning at Alya with a satisfied look on his face. A smile found its way onto Marinette’s face. Adrien watched them mesmerized, slightly tightening his grip on her hand.

“Everything looks good,” he said, turning to her. “Their next stop should be a music shop a few blocks away, and there are a few cafes just across the street. Want to get a headstart and have an early lunch?”

Marinette nodded. She could use a drink or two right now. A nice large glass of the cold water because Adrien seemed to take their… whatever-this-was way too seriously, being all attentive and gentlemanly and extra charming, and if not for his assurance they were not on a date, Marinette would’ve surely thought otherwise. Just as she suspected, her silly crush on this man seemed to slowly be turning into something more than a simple attraction. Something different. Something deeper and more profound.

“Awesome!” Adrien grinned, turning back to the town. “I’ll buy us movie tickets once we’re there. Where do you want to sit? I prefer the middle, but I’m pretty sure Nino got the middle row seats, so that’s a bit risky. Shall we try for the back row?”

A pinch of guilt nagged at Marinette. Another glance at their friends in the distance and she stopped, slowly pulling her hand from Adrien’s grasp, mourning the loss with every inch lost. “Perhaps, we should stop here.”

He halted his steps, looking down. Seemed like she wasn't the only one feeling guilty about this. “You’re right. This wasn't a good idea.”

“They deserve more than two stalkers for friends.”

“They do. I was just too curious. This is the first time Nino’s been so crazy about someone.”

“So you decided to secretly third wheel them?”

He gave her an unimpressed look. “You don’t get to judge me. We’re in the same boat in this. Apples and all.”

Marinette couldn't hold back a snicker.

Adrien interlocked his fingers behind his head, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I was really looking forward to that movie, though.”  

“You’ll live.”

“Will I?”

“Absolutely, you big baby. Just go watch it by yourself if you want it so much.”

“But that’s not fun.”

“Better than stalking your friend on his date.”

“Then perhaps I should get my own. A date, I mean. For the movies.”

Marinette fell silent, her chest tightening. A guy like Adrien could have any girl he wished. And while she didn't think herself to be worse than anyone else, what were the chances he’d want her when girls like Kagami Tsurugi openly confessed their love to him?

“I guess you could,” she said, pulling out her cellphone to get an Uber.

“Then will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Go to the movies with me? Lunch and movies. A date. A real one. Nothing fake about it.” He was looking straight at her, a trembling smile on his lips, a soft glint in his eyes.

She blinked once. Twice. Her ears must be deceiving her. “Me?”

He nodded. “You.”

“But… Why?”

“Because I like you.” He stepped closer. “Because ever since you fell into my arms that first day, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Excuse me, but I did not fall into your arms!” Marinette huffed. Amazing or not, she wouldn't allow him to trample her reputation like that. “I just tripped, and you happened to stand in the trajectory of my fall. Or rather, you moved into it because, if my memory isn’t failing me—and my memory never fails me—you almost ran across the room to catch me.”

Adrien laughed. “Guilty as charged, but can you blame me? You’re amazing, Marinette. You’re smart and brave and confident and so very beautiful. A guy like me could only dream of being worthy of your attention.”

“You kidding me, right? A guy like you can have any girl he wants.”

“But there is only one I need,” he purred, leaning closer. “Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I’d be the happiest man alive if she’d give me a chance. I’m prepared to beg on my knees if that’s what it���ll take.”

Somehow, her hand was in his. He brought it to his lips and laid a lingering kiss on her knuckles. How could she say no to those eyes and that confident smoulder with a hint of childish worry behind it? The way she felt about him, she wouldn't want to say no even if her life depended on it. Marinette kept her eyes on Adrien's when she shifted her hand in his grasp, entwining their fingers together. "Only if we go to a different movie theatre. I don't want to run into Alya and have to explain things."

“Sounds good to me.”

“And we’re getting soulmate ice cream at Andre’s before that. I want to check if we’re meant to be before I commit to anything.”

Adrien laughed, pulling Marinette into a hug. “I’m pretty sure I won’t even have to bribe the man to get the result I want.”

“You’re way too confident, M Agreste, you know that, right?”

“Only when it really matters.”

“And is this one of those situations?”

His gaze soft and loving, Adrien leaned down, his lips gently brushing against the flustered skin of her cheek. “You’re at the top of my ‘Really Matters’ list, Mlle Dupain-Cheng.”

Another kiss to her nose, he lingered for a moment before whispering, “May I kiss you the way I know you want me to kiss you now? Or shall I wait until the end of our date?”

There was only one answer Marinette could give him. “Right now would be perfect.”

***

This is a reworked chapter from my upcoming "Dreams of You" story. If you're planning on reading it, don't be surprised to see part of this as one of the chapters. Hope you'll enjoy both of them!

[hobiwonder]

Bloom | 01

Genre: Hybrid!Namkook. fluorescence by @jincherie​ AU 

Pairing: foxhybrid!Namjoon x Reader x bunnyhybrid!Jungkook ;(

Warnings: language. mention of hybrid trafficing/being sold into sex trafficing, fluff holy shit, angst, Smut (future), very cuddly and shy jungkook, stuttery shy BOYS. I really just wrote this for me.

Words: 5k+

Summary: In a world where humanity is increasingly motivated by how much cash can be made off of... well anything, you’re a human and hybrid rights lawyer. You will do anything to save the ones that never had a choice  right from the date of their conception. Even if that means, adopting two hybrids that you absolutely did not mean to. 

a/n: hello hello im back from the dead iuhbIUHBUYBGUY okay so, yes this isnt baby baby but i am a bit behind on that so i really hope posting this instead can satiate my sluts for a few more days until i have that done. I have a lot of this written so I will post this on a semi-regular schedule. rest of the schedule i posted will stay the same. it’s just baby baby that’s kicking my BUTT!!!! Lastly, I started writing this before Goo Hara passed away. Opening this document made me a little sad and also happy when i remember Hara and her love for eco-friendly fashion. I guess, this is kind of a tribute to her? anyhow, I hope you guys like it. please please please, validate me. :>)

"Y/n they're going to be sold to this man who works for a black market. What do I do? Oh god. I-I didn't know our company was into that business."

Your best friend is nearing the point of tears and you can understand her frustration. "Listen, Hara, take a deep breath and tell me when exactly this is happening."

A deep breath is taken as you'd suggested, before you hear Hara's voice again through the phone. "Okay... Okay. I was just told by Minseok that there is an auction for the remaining two from the past failed batches. Apparently two others have been adopted and the rest have been pawned off somewhere. I'm not sure. From our division of the company, these two are the ones that have not gone for further testing to be open to the regular public. A-And so now there is a super secret auction happening tonight. It's not open to the regular public as you already know but staff members are able to attend. What do I do y/n? I can't afford them. I have my own to deal with. These poor boys will go to some horrible owner who will use them f-for god knows what."

Now Hara was crying. Openly and brokenly for the possible fate of these 'failed' hybrids that her company had produced. This was a sticky situation and even you, a Human and hybrid rights lawyer, had limited ideas as to what could be done on such a short notice. But you were not about to give up.

"Hara, don't. They will not be bought by some hybrid trafficker okay? I won't let it happen. I will... I will at least try. It's my job, remember?"

Your optimism is convincing enough. And you wholeheartedly believed that something would give. These big corporations had their toes in everywhere and you didn’t yet know if they had already had a designated buyer on the black market they pawned their hybrids off to. Where there was money to be made - no company had morals rigid enough to stop themselves from the temptation. You already lived in an age where human trafficking was no longer a cause for activism or big debates. Not when more species - man made or not - had been created to take advantage of.

“Okay yeah. You’re a badass lawyer, you must have something up your sleeve right?” Her voice is shaky but you confirm with an enthusiastic nod she can’t see.

“Of course! I’ll kick their asses. Surely this can’t be legal? No blackmarket is. Let me have a look at what can be done. I’m assuming you can bring a plus one tonight?”

“Yeah I-I was given a ticket. You’ll be coming with me right?”

“That’s why I asked, silly.” Her relieved chuckle brings a smile to your own lips.

“I’ll see you there. Don’t give up hope until I do, alright?”

“Okay... You’re right.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Fuck this. Fuck my life.” The curses escaped your mouth left and right as you looked over the dozens and dozens of papers splayed out on your oak desk.

Even your comfortable office chair couldn’t stop the knot building up between your shoulder blades. This was bad. Really bad. Corporate law allowed unfit materials to be sold to third parties. What these third parties did with those materials - the company of origin was no longer liable for. In short: These hybrids were going to be bought by someone sketchy with a crystal clear profile and no paper trail unless someone bid higher and bought them.

None of these bastards were rookies. They had solid paperwork where necessary and it would be near impossible to prove their illegal activities when all of them took place on the dark web. A place that opened up more threats and risks than solutions. No legislation covered hybrid rights that weren’t even registered yet. Whoever bought them would have to register them and then the hybrids would be able to receive the minimum protection they had a right to.But you can bet your father’s company that whoever bought them will never register them. Essentially these hybrids will be wiped out from the system.

Fingertips tapping against the wood, each passing minute was precious time lost. it was already 5pm. You had to leave for the dreaded auction in less than an hour and hour and yet here you sat in your chair. Hands itching to do something other than pick up the phone and tell Hara that you were at a loss. What could you do? Who would take them? You didn’t know anyone that was ready to add not one but two hybrids to their household. And ones that were not fully approved to be released. You couldn’t just lie and pawn them off to just anyone. Then you would not be any better than the company trying to get rid of them.

Sighing, you pack up the papers and documents you had initially thought would help. They were of no use anymore. All you could do was go and offer support to Hara. Or Maybe you were going because you still had hope that there would be someone who would save those hybrids. Hope was a dangerous thing for a woman like you but you had it. This was no time to wallow. So you smooth your skirt, touch up your makeup and put on your heels that had men double take.

Maybe you could scare and/or seduce these people in changing their mind?

You laugh at your absurdity, glancing in the mirror one last time before you leave with stacks of files in your hands. You could at least stall them.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Y/n! Thank god you’re here.” I’m not so sure about that. Though you opt for a gentle smile and meet her embrace enthusiastically.

You can hear the sniffles coming from Hara who has her head buried in your shoulder. “Hey, no crying okay? No matter what happens.” The comment has her pulling back just as quickly.

“What do you mean? You have a plan for tonight r-right? Y/n..”

How could you do this? Lie to her? This was not fair on her. On anyone really. It wasn’t your fault and neither hers for whatever would happen tonight. She needed to know what to expect. As much as your heart clenched and ached to say the words you were about to; it was important to mentally prepare for the worst.

“Hara... I couldn’t find anything.” Your frown is apologetic. Trying to convey how really truly sorry you were but it doesn’t stop the tears from brewing up in her eyes.

“Oh.. I thought- thought they had a chance y/n.” You reach out for her hand, wanting to alleviate her hurt as soon as possible.

“I will at least try to see who will buy them okay? Don’t worry. We can keep an eye out on who gets them. They will be alive at least, right?” Your attempt at finding a silver lining doesn’t make her look any more reassured than you felt.

Glancing at your watch, you motion towards the building. “Come on. Let’s go before they try and kick us out.”

Hara nods, numbly leading the way towards an auditorium where several people had already taken their seats. You’re not sure how many people you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t... this. There were at best 10 people here. All ten seemingly looked like they knew each other. This could only mean one thing. That this sale was to some degree, arranged. As in, multiple buyers were from the same company posing as separate customers to maximise their chances of acquiring the hybrids.

“Hara, have you seen any of these people before?” Your whisper has her craning her neck to have a good look at all of the men sitting in the front few rows.

“No, I don’t think so.” Her furrowed brows turn to you instead, “Do you recognise any of them?”

Shaking your head, you follow her down the stairs to sit in the row behind the last pair of buyers who were sitting.

“Whoever they are... they don’t look like they are all strangers.” Hara is gripping on to your arm when she hears you, visibly nervous once again. “I’m just speculating, okay?”

Your attempt to ease her, once again, is not enough. But you don’t try again since you don’t even believe your own words. The auctioneer however, stops you from thinking further about the impending events of the night. The man stands in a lab coat, glancing at his watch before he brings his mouth closer to the mic on the dice.

“Let’s begin gentleman... and ladies.” He seems to be surprised to see you and Hara sitting at the back. And before he begins further, he motions someone. Another man approaches the auctioneer and listens carefully as the other whispers. A few seconds later, his eyes fall back to where you sat with your best friend.

Hara’s grasp on your arm tightens once again when the man heads to your general direction. On instinct, your back straightens, posture more solid than before so as to not give anyone the wrong impression that they can mess with you unwarrantedly.

“Excuse me Miss.?”

“Yes?” Your curt reply surprises him but he recovers fast, glancing towards Hara before talking to you again.

“Are you a guest of Ms. Hara?”

“Obviously.” Your unwavering gaze visibly unnerves him. It was obvious to anyone there but you had an idea this was some sort of test.

“May I see your ticket please?” His bogus smile annoys you more than it should. Nonetheless, Hara is fishing out the ticket from her purse and showing the man. He inspects it longer than he should and finally walks back to the auctioneer to let him know you had the right to be here.

“Who would do that if they weren’t running a hoax?” You ask Hara before you can stop yourself.

“Alright. Apologies for the delay. We will now begin. As you are all aware, we are auctioning two of our very elite hybrids from a rare batch. They have not progressed to the next stage of screenings and tests due to some technical difficulties. Thus, we are here to give them a chance at a new home rather than a painful end.” He looks in the audience for effect. Euthanasia is what he meant.

“These hybrids are fully functional however lack a few abilities they were initially designed for. Due to these technical issues deeming them failed to proceed, they are available for purchase at a much lower cost than what they are sold for on the market.” The auctioneer looks so smug the urge to smack his across the face is almost irresistible.

“Right, bring them out Wonho.” Everyone is watching carefully, waiting for the ‘failed’ hybrids and you don’t know what you were expecting.

Not what you see though. Definitely not. Because the two - tall - hybrids entering the stage are not what you expect. Peach and silver tones greet your eyes as well as incredibly sculpted faces.  The peach haired hybrid seems to cling to the silver haired one. The man leading the two hybrids seems to be frustrated with their slow pace, giving the peach haired hybrid a little shove and there is only so much you can do to not yell at the top of your lungs for him to get his hands off of them.

The man sighs, letting the two hybrids to just stand in the middle when the peach haired one does not stand apart from the other hybrid. While the shorter of the two hybrids - and much, much shyer - looks around anxiously at the people in the auditorium, the silver haired one has his features set in stone. His eyes don’t look alarmed, they don’t seem scared. He just looks numb. He stares ahead at the people sitting in front of him while the peach haired boy visibly shakes, breathing fast and eyes flitting across every surface. He takes a step back, hiding part of his body behind his silver haired companion for comfort.

“There you have them. The peach haired specimen is a Oryctolagus cuniculus or - a bunny in more simplistic terms. The silver haired specimen is an arctic fox, Vulpes lagopus. Both hybrids are off a rare species and very sought after on the market. Due to technical issues, once again, unfortunately, we are only able to sell them in a pair. They are useless on their own.”

The candid way the auctioneer speaks of them has your blood boiling. But what gets you more is the laughter that sounds in the auditorium. Did these assholes think they were funny? The hybrids - entirely human or not - were present in the room with them. Did they not have any ounce of respect for them? Hara was not faring any better. Watching with a frown as chatter continued among the buyers. The bunny looked even more disturbed, looking around at every man in the front few rows - before his eyes landed on you.

The gasp that leaves you is abrupt. His pained expression holds your gaze, eyes wide and chest heaving. The bunny jumps when the auctioneer speaks again.

“We will now start the bid at $1000. $1200 anyone?” Several hands go up before the auctioneer raises the price to $1400.

Bald, greasy men exchanging glances and crude remarks as they talk amongst themselves. Your heart is thumping, your blood thinning. With each passing second, your throat seems to be closing up. There was nothing you could do to save them, was there? The further the price went up, the more panicked and distraught the bunny looked, gripping his fox companion harder, hiding behind him even more. The silver haired fox looked much like what you had stopped Hara from looking only this morning. Hopeless. His mouth was set in a thin line - just taking in the scenario in front of him. It was obvious he saw his fate before his very eyes and instead of futilely hoping that someone would save them - he stares his aggressors in the eyes.

“Brilliant! We’re at $3000 for the gentleman in the first row. Anyone for $3500?” The said man looked positively smug, sitting with his legs spread lewdly. Most likely sure that no one would contest that price.

Definitely not you.

“$4000.” Your voice yelling above everyone else is even foreign to your own ears. An outer body experience as you watch yourself look the auctioneer straight in his eyes, daring anyone in the room to go higher up on the price. But most of all, you watch the silver haired hybrid’s gaze waver for the first time - looking at you in such surprise like it was the first time he was noticing you.

“Ah... Anyone for $4500?” Only one other hand goes up. The man that had been the prospective buyer before. His face is ballooning with the amount of blood that’s rushing to it.

“Y/n? What are you doin?!” Hara’s frantic whispering flies over your head as you call out once more.

“$6000. Final offer.” You look at the other men in the seats beneath you, challenging them to dispute your offer.

The atmosphere is tense, thick with the tension brewing inside the auditorium and yet you don’t shy away from the angry glares being shot your way. A minute passes. No more offers.

“Sold to Miss?”

“Y/n.”

“-Miss Y/n. Thank you all for participating.” The loud chatter is instantaneous as the auctioneer motions the other lab rat to, assumably, gather the hybrids and their things.

“Y/N! Oh my god.” Hara has all but engulfed you in a tight hug once more. Shaking you slightly out of your own shock. This was not what you had planned but it was done.

She finally pulls back, checking you over like you were ill. “A-Are you sure about this? Oh god, okay we need to head up to the podium.”

Just like she doesn’t wait for your answer, you had not waited for your own either. You hadn’t even asked yourself the question before you had so blindly bid on the two hybrids. You’d been waiting for someone to save them. Someone to come barging in and take them away from these cruel people. Never in a millenia had you thought that someone might be you.

“Here you are Miss. You can deposit a check right now or eftpos the payment. Up to you.”

Benumbed, you take out your phone to open the phone banking application. When you’ve made sure there are sufficient funds transferred from your savings account, you wave your card in front of the auctioneer wordlessly. From the corner of your eyes, you can feel the two hybrids watching you. You wished they had at least let them wait in some sort of waiting room and not witness the jarring experience of several people bidding over them.

“Excellent! The transaction has been approved and a receipt will be emailed to you if you can fill out this form here.” Glancing at the hybrids standing a few feet away from you, clutching a duffle bag each, you try and put down your details as fast as you can.

They had already looked like they wanted to be as farther away from this place as possible and the feeling was mutual. Hara was beside you the whole time, waiting for any cue from you to provide some sort of support or whatever you needed her to do. And if your tongue worked - you would thank her as you filled out the space on the form asking you of your email address. It was sickening how easy it was for you to just... buy them! Would they not do a security or police check on you? Make sure that these hybrids are going to at least a safe home?

You were aware of the long process of hybrids that were ordered from the company. The company had a thorough process of making sure their clients were reputable and trust-worthy. That they wouldn’t do bodily harm to the hybrids but that was a facade so these companies wouldn’t have to spend money in compensation if a client had abused their hybrid in any way and had not been satisfied with what they had ordered. It was a guise. These people didn’t give two shits if the hybrids were not of expectation and couldn’t make them money.

“Am I done here?” Your tone was curt and the auctioneer could sense it.

The fact that you’d fished out more than enough cash for some ‘failed’ hybrids - he was interested in you as a potential future client. You were aware that hybrids of their breed went for $5000 - maximum. The previous greasy bald man had been close to closing a deal for $3000 until you had butted in. So obviously, they were going to kiss your ass.

“Yes Ma’am. That’s all we needed. The hybrids are good to go. Their bags have their guidebooks with them. Thank you for shopping with us.” his bright smile makes you want to hit him with your designer bag.

But even this leather was too good to be wasted on these assholes. “Y/N? Please look a little more friendly. You’ll scare the bunny away.” Hara is speed walking besides you, trying to convince you to soften your stance when you stop right before the bench they had been sitting on.

“Follow me, boys.” You’re not rude. You don’t sound mean either. But you don’t particularly sound like you wanted them. And as much as that was the truth to some degree, you didn’t not want them.

The silver haired hybrid hesitates - watching you with wide, curious eyes. Not the harsh way his eyes had scanned the room before but not exactly friendly and enthusiastic like the bunny. The bunny that was currently tugging on the silver fox’s sleeve wordlessly. His doe eyes silently ask his friend to follow you. But when his feet stay rooted to the same spot, you can’t help but sigh.

“Is there a problem?” A moment’s silence. Then finally the silver haired boy shakes his head, grasping the bunny’s hand and follows you out of the building.

Hara is gripping your hand, relieved tears in her eyes and you can’t keep looking. Because you couldn’t promise her that you would take good care of them. “Thank you Y/n. You didn’t have to do that but... but you did. You’re a good person and these boys are lucky to have you.”

Her eyes are earnest. You know she means every word and she can sense your inner turmoil at your own ability to take care of them. The boys can’t hear you both talking since they are standing near your car, obediently waiting for you. Taking a look at them huddled in the back seat, you turn back to Hara.

“Thanks Har. I will try my best. They deserve a shot at a normal and secure life. I won’t let you down.”

“And you,” she cups your face, making you look back at her. “You deserve love too. I have seen the bunny hybrid in the lab. He will heal all your wounds too. Please be happy and patient with them, okay?”

You nod, a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes but genuine nonetheless. “I’ll see you later. Love you.”

You just wave her goodbye, standing until her car pulls away. Looking back at the two boys waiting patiently in the car - you take a moment to gather yourself.

“Fuck... fuck. Fuck!” You don’t scream out loud. not really. But anyone walking by would be able to see you were stalling something. That something is going to your car and then going home.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to bite the bullet and face the reality. Getting in the driver’s seat, you look back at the two hybrids watching you from your rearview mirror. Giving them a small smile, you notice the bunny hybrid’s shoulders relax a little.

“Let’s go home.” Your voice is light and airy. Hoping to put them at ease. They were yours now.

You were their saviour.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Home sweet home.” Letting them pass you, entering the condo, you let them take in their surroundings.

The bunny is still latched on to the taller hybrid’s flannel, hiding behind him when the fox hybrid comes to stand beside a couch. Both of them look at you - as if waiting for you to allow them to sit. The silver haired fox is holding on to the bunny’s hand, watching you with a dour look.

“Go on.” You head motions towards the comfortable three seater couch. “Have a seat. No need to be shy.”

Of course, you want to palm yourself after your remark. Of course they were shy. Well, the bunny mostly. The fox looked to be very suspicious and not exactly friendly. Though you could understand his apprehension. He was about to be sold to some very nefarious people. He seemed to be a bit older than the bunny and had a look of ambiance that only came with experiencing harsh times. Your heart felt for him.

The bunny doesn’t wait too long, sitting on the couch - well plopping is more like it - whereas the fox takes his time, battling with himself if he should or not. When you keep watching him, waiting for him to sit, he thankfully gives in and sits besides his friend.

Once you can tell that they are comfortable - as comfortable as they can be, you ask your first question. “So, what are your names?”

You smile at them gently, letting them know you are their friend. At least hoping that they can conclude that from the fact that you told them about their new home on the car ride over.

The bunny’s eyes are wide, face heating up as if you asked him a rather scandalous question and not just his name. Your heart skips a beat when the lovely blush blossoms across his face that’s hiding in the fox’s shoulder.

“Well? Can you tell me, bun? What’s your name?” Your question being directed to the bunny only makes the blush more visible. You could see his face reddening further in embarrassment and the colour being rather more visible on his neck too.

The smile doesn’t diminish from your face. Not even after seeing the way the fox is almost glaring at you but you were positive that the bunny wasn’t hiding because he was afraid of you.

“J-Jungkook. ‘m J-Jungk-kook” The answer proves to be too much for him to mumble, lips catching his plumper bottom lip as he peeks at you through one eye that isn’t hidden in the fox’s shoulder.

“Jungkook. That’s a lovely name, bun.” Your smile widens when you see the corners of his mouth stirring up a little at your compliment.

Your heart was so full. Never did you think you would feel these dizzying emotions at a pretty boy merely muttering his name. His name. If this was your reaction at finding out one of their names, you were not going to survive getting to know them before you went full mother-hen mode on anyone that tried to harm them.

“What about you, hm?” Your smile is a lingering effect of just looking at Jungkook’s adorable blushing face and you don’t let it falter even if the fox hybrid is visibly more aloof.

‘Be patient with them y/n.’ You remind yourself of Hara’s words over and over.

“Namjoon.” The smile halts briefly at the deep timbre of his tone. You had not been expecting him to sound like molten chocolate and sweeter than honey. You realise you wanted to hear him more. Hear him speak about mundane topics over and over because that’s how good he sounded to you.

“Namjoon.” the name rolls off your tongue smoothly, just like his voice. You’re still watching his face, waiting for any sort of reaction even if it’s not as endearing as Jungkook’s. Just something. But his face remains passive. A slight twitch of his lips but that’s it. The pessimistic part of your brain convinces you that it could have been a frown and not a smile that he’s fought away.

But you needed to remain positive.

“T-That’s… a very nice name too.” He doesn’t look convinced at your reply though. Namjoon continues to watch you and now you’re the one blushing from the heat of his stare.

Jungkook is watching Namjoon just as cautiously as you. Like he expected him to be like that. Austere and unwilling to be forthcoming with information about himself. Telling yourself that he’ll adjust with time, you opt for a smile that’s sent Jungkook’s way - making the bunny hide behind Namjoon again. Almost like when a child is cautious and shys away from a stranger they meet. That’s what it was.  A childlike innocence to Jungkook which awoke every instinct in you to protect him. Maybe that’s why his eyes had convinced you that you needed to take them home with you.

“Okay boys. I’ll show you to your rooms.” Furrowing your brows at the way Jungkook clutches Namjoon harder with panicked eyes, you turn around to look at them again.

“You don’t need to stay in separate rooms if you don’t want to, okay?” Namjoon regards you with a look before nodding - eyes cast down once again.

“Good. You both are very quiet but that’s okay - I can talk enough for the three of us.” The wink that you send Jungkook’s way only has him sputtering with embarrassment as the lovely rose tints his full round cheeks.

“But you do have to tell me when you are not okay with something, alright? I can’t read your pretty little heads.” As you say the last few words, your hand reaches out to shuffle the bunny’s peach hair.

What you don’t expect, is him flinching away so violently that even you are startled, taking a step back. Jungkook is hiding behind Namjoon completely now, shaking and you want to reach out. Say sorry and take it all back.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“Hey, kook, it’s alright. It’s okay.” Namjoon’s voice reverberates through the quiet hallway, soothing the bunny’s shaking frame, whispering gentle assurances and you’re about to choke up.

What happened to him? Who did this to him. For him to be this scared. Watching Namjoon hug the shaking bunny tightly, sniffling away in his chest, only makes you feel more guilty at your brash treatment. Were you coming on too strong? God you were so out of your depth.

“I didn’t mean to scare you Jungkook. Honey..” You’re trying your best to reach out to him but the way Namjoon stands between you and him like a wall - it’s obvious he was waiting for something like this to happen. He was cautious of you and now his beliefs have been reinforced to not trust you or whatever nonsense he’s thinking.

You couldn’t blame him though. You really couldn’t.

“Please be careful, miss. He’s not a toy.” Namjoon’s voice trembles. Just the way - you now notice - his bottom lip does. He’s holding back tears and you really don’t know what to do. Except try your best to take their pain away.

“I’m.. I’m really sorry Namjoon. I didn’t mean to upset him.” You open the door to the room quickly, making sure there are blankets and pillows on the bed before coming out to tell them.

“Take him inside Namjoon. I’ll… I’ll leave you two alone, for now. Let me know if you need anything?” Namjoon merely nods, not being able to look you in the eyes but the bite of his lip tells you he’s trying to hold it together.

Jungkook’s hiccups catch your attention and you pull yourself out of your self-pity session. Only wanting to make sure that both of the hybrids are comfortable and just not feeling the way they are right now. Gesturing your head forward again, you nod at Namjoon when he looks at you one last time before heading into the room. The bunny holds onto Namjoon tightly, letting him walk into the room and when they are fully in - you close the door behind them. Giving them their privacy and also because you had a feeling they needed to be by themselves to really understand their current situation. That you were their new owner and this was their home.

A permanent home.

[airly-yo]

The aftermath

Chapter 1

Alarms blaring. Red lights flashing.

“Warning. Warning.” The constant reminder from a women’s robotic voice, that the ship is about to explode.

“Ahh! Come on! This is aircraft 0475, stand down this is one of your own. I repeat, stand down! Ahh Comms is down! Gosh damn it!!” The young girl dashed left and right on the control panel. ‘Seriously, what is going on? Do they not realise that we are in a star storm!! Why are they attacking me? Or more like who is?’ her mind screamed. Bang! She cried as she hit the ground and groaned. Her body was covered in cuts and bruises, her left ankle cartilage was torn. She wasn’t going to make it. A different alarm buzzed, a red warning hologram appeared and she swiped on it as she was lifting herself up. Left wing smashed. The constant robotic voice of the women glitched and jarred. The system was shutting down. She needed to get out of the storm or she will be screwed, but It was too late. She already lost the controls of the steering, now she is about to lose the entire ship. She has a serious puncture on the right side of her right thigh that was gushing blood. Thank gosh it wasn’t an artery. Quickly she grabbed her supply bag, with her little supplies left and ripped the GPS from the control panel. ‘I’ll fix it later and get it working again’ she thought. There was no time, her defence system was down, one hit is all it needs. Using the last of her energy she summons a portal, the last sight she could see was an aircraft right before her ship… her eyes went wide, there was no pilot. She was then consumed with clouds of blue before she musted, with her dying breath “…safe…”. In the nick of time the ship blew up and she was lost with her intention to get her somewhere safe, away from space.

Gasp! The young girl jolted upright. Her body ached in complaint from her core. Dried blood patched all over her body. Clots were blocking the spots where new blood was trying to break through. The surroundings were funny and she just couldn’t grab her bearing. After a full minute of her ears ringing, her senses came to life. The warming rays of the sun above slowly soaked through her skin, its bliss relaxing her thrilled nerves. Just where was she? Taking a moment looking around, sand dunes enclosed around her. It appeared that she was at a beach. The soft sounds of the ocean calmed her even more. Behind her was this great cliffs further proving her point she was at a beach. Now turning her attention to her screaming body. It doesn’t matter where she is at the moment, she’ll figure that out later. Right now there was no visible threats and there was a strange comforting silence. She just hoped for the best there was no creatures that would pry at her at this state.

Counting her fingers to see if she was in just one piece and that she wasn’t in any abnormal form with any extra or missing fingers. Wouldn’t be the first time anyway… Her powers were strange to her, she only discovered them, like what? Almost two years ago? But she could summon portals that would allow her to further places or into a different universe. That is when stuff gets dangerous, who knows, you could come back out with two heads. It is something you do now want to mess with. Even bringing something from a different reality is even more dangerous. It could start a black hole. Though one of her limits was indeed time travel. That task she could not do. Snapping out of thought she looked at her petite body. She was a mess. Her bulky supply bag was just in arms reach in front of her. Good so she hasn’t lost that at least. Reaching it, she looked inside. She had one medical box, some water, little tracker gear and some tools. Oh also a spare set of clothes too. Ever since that accident with one of her crew members how had acid burn through their clothes, and didn’t have any spare, she always remembered to pack some anywhere she went. Speaking of crew, why was her own fleet attacking her? Surely they would come looking for her right? The G.S.P.F (Galactic Star Protection force, was formed after the Incident with Thanos.), never leaves someone behind, that is like their whole motto. Yet here she was, damaged from an attack by them. She had so many questions to ponder. Looking up into the blue sky, not a cloud in sight, just the blinding sun. A deep feeling knew why but part of her didn’t want to believe. Was that whole mission about a crystal pure bullshit to drag her away? Or is there a bigger picture here?

“I need to wash the blood and junk of my clothes and cuts if I want to heal myself or at least fix me.” She could only muster from a raspy voice. Clearly the damage from the oxygen leaking on the space ship did some short term damage to her voice. She then proceeds to ask herself questions to see if her brain was still intact.

“Ok what Is my name? Y/n Done. What planet did I originate from? Earth. Why did I join the force? Cause it was the only way I could escape.” Y/n continued to survey herself. For as far as she knew she was intact. Looking up to the giant dune in front her, she a rose to her feet. Trekking up the dune to the very top. Sand stuck to her like glue, yuck. All the dried blood and sand in her clothes made her very uncomfortable. She needed to wash, and who knows, perhaps some salt water will be able to chill her nerves. Thighs were burning, sand was such a hard thing to climb up on. With grunts and groans she finally made it to the top. Y/n couldn’t believe the sight before her eyes! She was on the most gorgeous beach she had ever seen! Lush soft white, yellow sands that stretched into the distance and a gorgeous ocean calling to her. Y/n laughed in disbelief, she knew she was safe. Who ever was attacking her must think she was dead and she would like to keep it that way. Worries drifted away with the calming ocean breeze, her pain floated away. What was even better was that there was no alien birds in the sky, no unexpected holes in the ground, just peace. It occurred to her that this place looked like Earth. Hopefully…

[superhusbands4ever]

The Chain - Chapter 4/15

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Full Work | AO3 Link

Fandom: The Bad Batch (Star Wars)

Characters: Crosshair, Hunter, Howzer, Rex, Wrecker, Tech, Echo, Omega, Various Clones

Relationships: Crosshair & Howzer, Crosshair & Rex, Crosshair & The Bad Batch, Crosshair & Omega, Hunter & Rex, Hunter & Omega

Additional Tags: Redemption, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Found Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: One year after the events of The Bad Batch, Crosshair struggles to reconcile his choice with the harsh truth of the world around him. He finds enlightenment in the most unlikely of places and realizes he may have made the wrong decision. But is it too late to do something about it?

Two years after the events of The Bad Batch, Rex reluctantly agrees to allow Hunter and his squad to help him rescue a man who's been captured by the Empire, an Imperial double agent who's cover has been blown. What Hunter thought to be a simple extraction ends up having far greater consequences for their squad than he could have ever anticipated.

Chapter Warnings: None

Right actions in the future are the best apologies for bad actions in the past.

Tryon Edwards

Rex never struck Hunter as the type to let his nerves get the best of him. That one attempted fist fight with Crosshair when rescuing Echo notwithstanding, Rex was always calm and level headed when they worked together in the past. Skako Minor, Anaxes, on Bracca - it was clear why Rex was the Captain of the famously wild Torrent Company and essentially the de facto commander of the infamous 501st Legion. His calm and steady presence along with his cool confidence made him exactly the kind of guy people naturally gravitated to, naturally turned to for leadership.

Which is why it was weird that Rex seemed fidgety in a way he’d never seen from the man before. Anyone who didn’t know him wouldn’t notice, but Hunter could see the way he kept fiddling with the buttons on the controls needlessly. He could hear the leather of Rex’s gloves squeak as he clenched and unclenched his hands periodically. And only Hunter would be able to hear the way Rex kept consciously making an effort to unclench his jaw and stop grinding his teeth.

After the fourth time in as many minutes that Rex flexed his fingers, Hunter finally spoke up.

“Are you alright, Captain?”

Rex glanced at Hunter, hands deliberately stilling in his lap as he sat up straighter.

“Yes,” he said. “Just restless, I suppose.”

Hunter nodded, staring out at the streaking blue and white light of hyperspace through the viewport of the freighter’s cockpit.

“This operative of yours,” Hunter said after a moment, “you two are close?”

Whatever response Hunter was expecting from the other man, it wasn’t for him to laugh. Even Rex seemed startled by the response, looking sheepishly over at the sergeant.

“Sorry,” Rex said, rubbing a hand over his head. “I just- I certainly never expected to be, but… yeah. Yeah. I suppose we are.”

“You don’t get along?”

“We didn’t at first,” Rex said, crossing his arms across his chestplate. “ Manda , I used to hate the guy. But… he’s a good man. The more I worked with him, the more I spoke with the people he helped, I realized that. He’s done a lot for our brothers.”

Hunter nodded slowly. “How did you two meet?”

“Oh, uh—“ Rex twitched again as he went to fiddle with the pilot controls. “We met back during the war.”

“You served together?”

“Ehh,” Rex hedged, “Only a couple of times towards the end.”

Hunter waited for Rex to elaborate but the other man was silent, continuing to mess with the controls. The ship was on autopilot, so he wasn’t actually doing anything. He listened as Rex’s heart rate slowly started gaining speed.

“So… who did he serve under? Maybe I’ve heard of—“

The navicomputer beeped and Rex’s shoulders slumped nearly imperceptively.

“Why don’t you go back and check on the others?” If Hunter didn’t know any better he’d say Rex sounded… relieved? “We should be arriving soon and we still need to rework the plan now that you all are here.”

Hunter frowned. Rex studiously avoided his eyes. He wasn’t ignorant to the fact that Rex was purposefully trying to get rid of him - the man was apparently as good at lying as Wrecker - but he wasn’t sure why.

Finally Hunter nodded. He tapped his bracer against Rex’s pauldron and made his way out of the cockpit.

Rex mumbled something under his breath as the doors slid shut, but the hydraulics were too loud over the man’s voice for Hunter to be able to make out what was said.

He found everyone in the hold, Tech, Wrecker, Boil, Echo, and Omega sitting around the floor in a circle, with Gregor on a bench in the corner cleaning his blaster. He walked in just as Echo laughed at whatever the reg had said.

“Still, I’m glad to see you,” Boil said as Echo’s laughter died down. “Cody mentioned that Rex had found you, but I didn’t get the chance to reach out before… well…”

Echo smiled sadly, resting his flesh hand on Boil’s shoulder.

“It was always entertaining to listen to Rex rant to Cody about all the shenanigans you and Fives got into.”

“Yeah,” Echo agreed, voice gruff. “Though from what I hear, you and Waxer certainly kept Cody on his toes.”

Boil laughed.

“True. Usually it was Waxer making the plans. I somehow always ended up getting dragged along.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes.” Echo sighed. “I’m sorry, by the way. I read about Umbara. I can’t even imagine--”

“Don’t be,” Boil sighed, rubbing at the red scar on the side of his shaved head. “It felt unbearable at the time, but… sometimes I… sometimes I’m almost relieved? Force, that sounds horrible but it’s true. Sometimes I’m relieved he was gone so he wasn’t forced to become monsters like we were. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if they were the lucky ones.”

“You’re not a monster, Boil,” Gregor piped up from the corner. “Whatever the chip made you do wasn’t you. You had no choice.”

Boil nodded slowly, fingers lingering on his temple.

“I still did it, though.”

“I know what you mean,” Wrecker said quietly, eyes on the ground. “When my chip activated I nearly killed my squad. If Rex hadn’t been there to stop me, I would have.”

Omega scooted closer to Wrecker and grabbed his hand, leaning her head against his shoulder. He smiled down at her.

Boil looked sympathetic. “It’s a good thing Rex was there, then. Rex was the one who picked up my ship when I left Corellia. I wish I could say I was surprised to see he’d made it out, but I don’t think I was, really. Cody always believed Rex would survive all of this.”

“Did you…” Echo trailed off, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Did you… work with Cody while--”

“No,” Boil said firmly, shaking his head. “The GAR structure reorganized surprisingly quickly after the order went out. The 212th was recalled back to Coruscant and was divided up after that. Ghost Company went to Grand Admiral Tarkin while Cody and the other Marshal Commanders were sent to work directly under Palpatine. I haven’t seen Cody since we arrived on Coruscant after Uptapau.”

They were all quiet after that, heads bowed in remembrance of both their fallen and lost brothers. Besides Omega, everyone in the ship had worked under Cody’s command at some point and respected him for the great leader and big brother to all clones that he was. To imagine the strong willed, compassionate, selfless man under the direct control of someone like Palpatine was almost too much to bear.

It was thanks to Cody that Hunter and the others had even been allowed off Kamino. He’d been able to pull rank and convince Nala Se and the other Kaminoan scientists and trainers that the Unit 99s, of which Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, and Wrecker had been the last of, could be useful in the war. If it weren’t for Cody, they would have spent the rest of their days toiling around in Tipoca City, completing test after test until they were finally deemed too “defective” and decommissioned like the others in their unit, or put on janitorial duty like 99.

“What about you guys?” Boil’s quiet voice sounded overly loud in the solemn silence of the ship's hold. “How did you survive the order? Did the Commander get you guys out too?”

“No,” Tech said, adjusting his goggles. “Our chips were never activated. They malfunctioned due to our deviant nature from the other, regular clones.”

Boil cast Wrecker a sidelong look.

“But I thought—“

“His activated later as an effect of repeated head trauma to the chip’s implantation site.”

“Well, I’m glad you guys didn’t have to experience that. Though, I imagine it must have been a very difficult situation for you surrounded by everyone else.”

“Heh, you could say that again,” Wrecker grumbled under his breath.

“We’ve essentially been on the run from the Empire for the last three years,” Echo said. “The vod’e pretty much attack us on sight.”

“You said the Commander helped you escape recently?” Omega piped up from under Wrecker’s arm.

Boil nodded slowly, gaze trained on the ground.

“I’ve only been on Yavin for about a day and a half,” Boil said. “The Commander got me out just a few days ago”

“And then he was discovered,” Tech said succinctly. Echo smacked his arm.

“Yeah,” Boil said quietly, running his hand over his hair. “Extracting me was a risk, from what Howzer said.”

“It was a different op than the usual extractions,” Gregor said from the corner. “Typically he just gave us foot soldiers that he could say were killed in action on missions. Two or three at a time, buried under flimsiwork and red tape. He’d splice the system and mark them as KIA. Apparently the Empire doesn’t care much if they lose one or two rank and file clones.”

“I was higher up in the command structure, though,” Boil added. “I was a lieutenant on Grand Admiral Tarkin’s security team. He was attending some diplomatic event in Corellia and I was assigned a protection squad. The Commander caught me as I was coming off my shift and took me to some tiny infirmary in the hotel. Stunned me and took my chip out. I barely knew what was going on when he told me that he was getting me out of the Empire and we needed to hurry.”

“A natborn Imperial officer helping clones?”

“No,” Boil shook his head, “he is a clone.”

Everyone was silent and Hunter frowned. A clone commander working from within the Empire?

Gregor paused his cleaning and looked up at the group, eyes flickering from them to Hunter, who still lingered in the doorway.

“A clone spy within the Empire?” Tech asked skeptically. “Without his chip?”

Boil nodded. “I wasn’t sure at first, either. He never took his helmet off and he didn’t sound like any clone I’d ever met. But he understood what it was like when I woke up freaking out, asking questions, getting angry. He talked me down, told me that he knew it was disorienting to wake up suddenly in control of your own body after so long but we didn’t have time for an existential crisis so I needed to get myself together.

“So what has he been doing?” Echo questioned. “Just… pretending his chip is active?”

“I guess so. Howzer confirmed it later. They’re pretty close, I guess  - I thought Howzer was going to lose it when the distress signal went off.”

“How did the Commander get his out?”

Boil shrugged. “I didn’t ask.”

The room fell silent at that.

Something about the situation prickled at the back of Hunter’s mind. Maybe it was just the similarities to their own brother. Crosshair had chosen to stay with the Empire as well, even when out from under the chip’s influence - though there was no denying that Crosshair’s motivations and this Commander’s motivations were extremely different.

Crosshair chose to stay, to leave the team, their family, behind for selfish reasons - ego and power and a place in the new galactic order. This Commander chose to stay not for himself, but to help those who couldn’t help themselves.

The knowledge burned something inside him, but Hunter buried it down.

This is who I am. .

“We all thought he was crazy when he reached out to Rex,” Gregor piped up, his blaster discarded on the bench next to him. “The whole thing was his idea. We warned him it was suicide, but he didn’t care. Rex thought he’d be dead within a month, but he’s been helping clones get out for nearly two years now. Howzer kept telling him it was time to get out before he got caught, but he wouldn’t listen. Now here we are.”

“I tried to get him to come with me. Told him if they found out what he’d done, they’d kill him.” Boil snorted. “You know what he said to me? He said ‘ stop being a noble di’kut and get in the ship before I stun you and put the chip back in. ’”

They all frowned at the threat, Gregor giggling from his place in the corner.

“I’m glad to be going back for the Commander,” Boil said. “Obviously I wish it were in better circumstances. I know it was his decision to stay behind, but it still felt wrong leaving him there, you know? Colt always said we never leave a man behind.”

“Yeah,” Echo said quietly, eyes meeting Hunter’s across the room. “I know the feeling.”

Hunter held Echo’s gaze, same as he always did when the topic came up over the last two years. And same as every other time, in the face of Echo’s admonishment, Hunter said nothing in return. There was nothing to say that hadn’t already been discussed at length.

Repeatedly.

Loudly.

Wrecker and Tech glanced at each other over Echo’s head while Omega averted her eyes to the ground.

The ship shook as it dropped out of hyperspace and Hunter took that as his que to get moving.

“Rex said we’ll be touching down soon,” he said, stepping fully into the room. “We should start getting ready.”

As the others moved over to Gregor to begin gearing up, Echo stood and held Hunter’s gaze a moment longer. Hunter shook his head and Echo sighed before moving to join the others.

He had a feeling they’d be having that discussion once again once this mission was over.

Hunter felt a hand in his and he looked down to meet Omega’s eyes. She smiled sadly at him, squeezing his hand. He squeezed back, but couldn’t quite drudge up the willpower to smile in return.

“C’mon,” he said instead, “let’s gear up.”

She nodded and walked over to the group, helping Echo loop his pack over his scomp arm. Hunter watched them all and tried not to think about the weird feeling lingering in the back of his mind.

~

“Alright,” Rex said as the ramp to the ship lowered. They’d landed in the forest, hidden at the bottom of the mountain the same as they had last time. Gregor helped Tech and Rex navigate the ship to an area below the mountain where there was a hidden entry point similar to the vents they had escaped through last time.

“Echo, Hunter, Tech, Boil, and Gregor - you’re with me. Wrecker, stay with the ship.”

“Wha- oh, come on!” Wrecker said, slipping his helmet up to stare at Rex with wide eyes. “I can help!”

“You will help,” Rex held his hands up placatingly, “we need someone to stay with the ship that can meet us at the exit. I get a feeling we’re going to need to make a quick get away.”

“Aww, why can’t Tech do it?”

“We need Tech to help Gregor and Echo hack the systems,” Rex explained calmly. “This is a stealth mission, Wrecker, and those aren’t your, uh… strong suit.”

Wrecker groaned, pulling his helmet off and slunking off to sit on a crate. Omega patted his hand.

“Sorry, Wrecker. But I just can’t take any risks with this.”

“Nah, I understand,” and to Wrecker’s credit, he did sound like he meant it.

Rex nodded and gestured for the others to follow him off the ship.

Before Omega could get far, Hunter grabbed her elbow.

“Omega.... I want you to stay on the ship with Wrecker.”

Omega frowned.

“Why? I can help!”

Hunter sighed. She stood with arms crossed as she leveled a glare at Hunter and her eyes filled with that stubborn indignation she’d been showing more and more since she’d reached her teenage years.

As she got older, every time she glared at him like that she looked more and more like--

“We’re walking straight into an Imperial base,” Hunter said, trying to keep his tone as even as possible. “You remember what happened last time.”

“It was my idea to help on this mission.”

“It was,” Hunter conceded. “Though, you didn’t exactly talk it through with us before offering.”

She had the grace to look a little chastised at that.

“This is dangerous, Omega. High level stuff, not what we usually do. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He trailed off and the fire seemed to go out from under Omega with her disappointed sigh.

“Fine,” she said. “But I don’t like it. If you get caught again, we will be having words.”

Hunter chuckled. “Noted.”

Her eyes searched his face a moment longer before she flung her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest.

“Be careful.”

“I will,” he rested his chin on top of her curls. “I promise.”

Hunter’s commlink beeped and Rex’s voice filled the room.

“Hunter, let’s move out.”

Omega pulled back and crossed her arms as Hunter pulled on his helmet. She waved to him as he walked down the ramp, her and Wrecker both watching as the group started making their way toward the base of the mountain.

Hunter stared up at the mountain as they worked their way through the forest, his mind jumping back to the last time they had been on this planet, attempting a rescue from this exact base. Hopefully this time went better than the last. Hopefully no one was captured again. Hopefully they could get in and out without alerting anyone, though his squad was never that lucky.

Hopefully Crosshair isn’t here, Hunter thought as they climbed into the vent shaft. They hadn’t seen nor heard from Crosshair since the day they left Tipoca City. The Empire was large and the Galaxy even larger, so the chances were slim. He hoped. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with a family reunion today.

[scullydubois]

Only the Light Ch. 19

19/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: mid-s3 (canon-divergent) | T | 5.3k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic <3

Fate touches Scully's life, as does her own free will.

-----------------------

Can you still call something a miracle when you could not have gone on without it? When, if it hadn’t happened, the death knell would have sounded in your memory? Is that really a miracle, or is it just what had to occur? Certainly what keeps you breathing wouldn’t be so highly esteemed if the chips fell the other way. It would be called a tragedy, and no one wants to live in a world where every moment is caught between the two.

Scully existed there for a little while, but she’s escaped. Maybe for good. Because this--the Lace’s sacrifice, her signature on the adoption paper, her baby in her arms--is no miracle. This is God realizing she’s gotten her fair share, that he owes her a break. This is her fate.

In more normal circumstances, the foster family and the adoptive parent would have no contact. Social services would handle the transition. Since those barriers are already broken in Emily’s case, the state allows the Lace’s and their son to accompany Emily as she’s turned over to Scully. The nondescript woman in the polo shirt joins them as a witness to the custody change, and so they all find themselves at Bill Jr.’s house--of all places--for one grievous goodbye and a destined hello.

Mrs. Lace passes Emily to Scully moments after the family walks through the door. Her red-rimmed eyes reveal the depth of her agony. 

“Take her,” she says. “I need to start letting go while she’s still in my sight.”

Scully bites her lip, feels Emily’s pudgy hand press into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Lace. I can’t imagine how hard this must be. I’ll make good on my promise to send pictures and updates, I swear.”

“Thank you, Dana.” She sighs. “It’ll be an adjustment.”

Her husband taps the head of the little boy by his knee. “This is Andrew, our son. He wanted to make sure Emily has the best life possible, so he made you a guide to her favorite things.”

The boy--no more than five--holds up a construction paper booklet with crayon drawings of him and baby Emily. How To Mak My Sister Smile, his stilted handwriting reads. Scully’s heart skips a beat as she accepts it from him. She kneels down so he’s level with her and Emily. 

“Thank you, Andrew. This is so sweet and I’ll be sure to read every bit of it and make sure your sister smiles every single day, okay?”

He nods, but tears cloud his vision. 

Scully turns Emily so that she’s perched on her knee, facing Andrew. “Tell me--what’s your favorite thing to do with your sister?” she asks him softly. 

He rubs his eyes and nose. “I like to show her my cars,” he stammers.

“Your cars? Wow!” Scully effuses. It’s not often that she gets to work on her kiddie voice, and she’ll need that now.

The color returns Andrew’s face. “Yeah, yeah, my race cars! I have a mat for them, and I push them around the track, and she watches. She likes the races. They make her laugh sometime.” 

“Wow! You sound like a great big brother.”

“Yeah, and I like her bouncy thing too,” he sputters. “It was mine before.”

“An activity jumper,” Mr. Lace clarifies. “From Fisher-Price.”

“Ahh.” Scully’s happy to get any insight she can into her daughter’s early life. The Lace’s offered to send some toys with Emily, but Scully will only accept a couple onesies and Emily’s beloved stuffed rabbit. She doesn’t want to take any more from them than she already is.

She adjusts Emily on her knee, looks to Andrew. “Do you wanna give your sister a hug?”

“Okay.” He moves bashfully toward her and wraps his arms around Emily. He holds on until Emily begins to fuss, then steps back like he’s been caught sneaking away from time out. 

“Emily’s lucky to have a big brother like you,” Scully tells him. “Your parents have my phone number, and you can call and talk to her whenever you want, okay? I know she can’t say much yet, but she’ll grow into it, and besides, she’ll recognize your voice.” Scully offers him a spirit-boosting smile. “Does that sound good?”

He nods, hands linked behind his back. Stranger shyness has taken over.

“Good. She’s gonna need her big brother to stick up for her.”

Scully stands up, clutching Emily to her chest. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Lace,” Scully addresses them, “it’s impossible for me to sum up how deeply, deeply grateful I am for you and your sacrifice. It is no exaggeration to say that you have saved my life. I can already tell that Emily is so lucky to have been raised by you--that you have done an incredible job--and I hope that the two of us will continue to be a part of you and your son’s lives as Emily grows up.”

Mrs. Lace dabs her cheeks with a tissue. Mr. Lace frowns at his wife’s pain. “That means a great deal to us, Dana,” he replies. 

“We feel blessed to have led Emily through her formative months,” his wife murmurs through her tear-strickenness. 

The man nods. “She’s a wonderful kid, and I’m sure some of that comes from you.”

Scully smiles tautly. “I could say the same of you. Thank you for giving her the start I was denied from providing her.”

“You’ll let us know if you need any help, won’t you?”

“Of course. I’ll have your number on speed dial by the end of the night.”

The Lace’s formal goodbye had taken place at home, they said, and dragging out their visit would only make matters worse. They leave Bill Jr.’s house after a few short minutes, advancing down the front steps like a funeral procession.

When the door shuts and Scully’s baby is in her arms, she realizes that this will be her life for the rest of her life. What joy--! What horror--!

----------------------------

The heater’s gentle sigh provides a generous rush of white noise as the girls settle for sleep. It’s the time of year when San Diego’s nightly temperatures start drifting away from perfection, when sleeping with the windows open no longer has such appeal. According to Bill, it’s not cold enough to turn on the heating system (surprise, surprise) so he pulled a dusty space heater from the closet for the “girl’s room” to share. Like a gentleman, Mulder took the couch (as if he had any other option), leaving Scully, Missy, and now Emily with the guest room. A family affair, one generation rounded out by another.

It’s a convenient arrangement, really. Bill doesn’t have a crib and it’s not worth buying one for a single night, so Emily will be sleeping on the bed like a grown-up. If Missy weren’t there as a physical barrier, Scully would be taking the chance that Emily might roll off the unattended side. Instead, the little girl’s mother and aunt will be an arm’s length away for her first sleep with her new family. A symbolic gesture of the protection they hope to provide for the rest of her life. 

It’s a wonder how smoothly the transition has gone. Emily hasn’t shed a single tear since the family she knew left her in this strange house. Then again, Scully has never seen her daughter cry; like her mother, she must not be prone to it. 

Tara served a ham for dinner while Scully spooned mashed carrots and peas into Emily’s mouth, her helicopter parenting beginning early. Mulder made some joke about gourmet baby food, and everybody laughed except Bill, and Scully felt that she finally understood what was meant by family--some who share your blood will never fit into it, but some who were once strangers will more than make up for that absence. 

And now, as Scully lowers her onesie-clad daughter onto the guest bed, there is peace. Terror, too, lingers in her mind, but it’s the unwarranted kind. She is the mother to a healthy baby girl. Yes, there will be challenges. Yes, a person loved separately from yourself is a person you could lose. But the summit has been reached; the worst did not happen, and now everything else pales in comparison. As far as Scully’s concerned, she can never be truly hurt again. Because if anything happens to Emily, well, this is what Scully asked for, and what gives her the right to complain? Beggars can’t be choosers, and she begged God for this...The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. This happened in the opposite order for her, so she can only assume more loss is to come, and she will accept it. She will.

Scully slides beneath the comforter, snaking her arm out from under to rest a hand on the small of her baby’s back. A comfort very familiar to her, and one she will bequeath to her daughter. They have the bed to themselves for now. Missy is in the living room downing a beer with the boys and trying to compete with (or mediate?) their trash talk. In the past, a situation like this might worry Scully, but those old concerns look so small now. 

Only a few hours in, and she already feels much more at home with the title of mother, much more deserving of it. The first diaper she changed rivaled some of the operations she witnessed in med school, both in its gruesome nature and in requiring multiple pairs of hands. Mulder would help if Emily was a boy, he swore, but he claimed to be “out of his depth with her plumbing” as he put it. Missy quipped that you sure are and it made even Bill laugh and life was wonderfully rose-colored through Dana Scully’s eyes. 

She hopes for sweet dreams for herself, but much more so, for her daughter, and she is aware that this is how it will be for the rest of time. Having been half-asleep when she was put down, Emily lulls into even-breathed dozing before Scully can decide on a lullaby. No harm done; Scully’s vocal cords haven’t seen regular exercise since college karaoke, and she’d hate to disappoint so soon.

When she opens her eyes again (she hadn’t realized she closed them, but apparently she had), Emily is deep in sleep, her eyelids twitching to the rhythm of her unseen dreams. And Missy has joined them too, her mouth drooping like it did when the sisters shared a bed every Christmas Eve. Scully doesn’t know what time it is, and with such a picture perfect view in front of her, she won’t dare to roll over and check the bedside clock. How nice it is to exist beyond time’s constraints, even for a moment. 

Scully is as present, maybe, as she’s ever been. She’s touched by the past and the future, ironically giving her a heightened awareness of now. One side of her consciousness is borne back into childhood and the many nights she slept by her sister’s side--in this very city, in fact. The other sees a path of hope unfurling in front of it, finally. She wonders whether her happiness might multiply, like a drop of food coloring unleashed into water. Might Emily be the shield that she’s needed?...Maybe the loss she expects will not be what comes.

And what that could mean...she has meant, for a long time now, to plant Mulder firmly in her life. Partner is much too fleeting--the Bureau could close the X-Files tomorrow, and then they’d be nothing but ex-coworkers. They’ve established where they stand through silences that say more than words ever could. She loves him, he loves her, and my god, neither one wants to lose that. It’s only now that Scully is realizing that they haven’t--or she, rather, hasn’t--embraced what they have, and so there is nothing to lose, and very little to cherish. 

With all this change in her life, she thinks, why not add that to the list?

--------------------------------------

They fly back into DC on Emily’s first birthday. November 2nd. Or at least, that’s the date that was left on the note at the foster agency. Scully isn’t sure exactly what she was doing last November 2nd, but she wasn’t having a baby, that’s certain. It was around the time of Aubrey, Missouri and BJ and nightmares, she remembers that. Plus, the phantom pregnancy, and the fear. The universe has a way of echoing itself.

They’re off to Mama Scully’s as soon as they make it off the tarmac. She’s aching to see her granddaughter, as she let Dana and Melissa know through a barrage of phone calls. I even made cupcakes and bought decorations for a warm welcome home! she insisted. Neither one of them can remember their mother being this excited about anything since...honestly? Ever. And they can’t blame her; Emily is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to their family. If only their father were here to meet her.

This is the sorrow that Scully has not had time to pick at. Her hero, her role model, the blueprint for all she wants Emily to be, not around to see it happen. She can’t think further than that; it’s the loose string that would unravel the sweater.

Mama Scully opens the door before they make it up the front steps, armed with yellow balloons and a party hat for the birthday girl. What a way to meet your grandmother. 

“Hello dear!” It’s unclear whether she’s referring to Emily, one of her daughters, or the three as a unit. “Look at you…” she cups her hands around Emily’s head, and now they’re pretty sure who she’s referring to. “You’re like a little princess!”

Scully smirks. She’s glad to witness her mother’s happiness, of course, but they’ve just finished five hours of travelling with a baby. “Mom, please, could you save the theatrics for inside?”

“Oh, I have a whole other set of theatrics planned there,” Mama Scully quips. She clears the way, ushers the group into the house. 

She touches Mulder’s shoulder as he passes. “Fox! I almost didn’t see you there.”

“Well, I can’t compete with Emily, so I don’t blame you.”

“She is precious, isn’t she?” Mrs. Scully gazes toward the doorway that Scully and Emily have since deserted. “There’s a place for you in Emily’s future, you know.”

Mulder shoves his hands in his pockets. “Oh.” He doesn’t know what else to say to that, and besides, it should be up to Scully.

“Unless there’s another woman in your life…?”

“No, no, I just--” he chuckles. “I didn’t expect that.”

Mama Scully lays a hand on his arm. “I care about you, Fox. Your well-being is deeply connected with my daughter’s.”

“Yes, of course…” He really, really would like to go in now. 

“And it’s important to me that she has a strong support system throughout this ordeal. Raising a child is a tremendous challenge, and I don’t want her to feel that the burden is hers alone.”

“I completely agree.”

“That’s why you should adopt Emily, too. Give her the gift of a father.”

Mulder’s brain short-circuits. “I--what? Mrs. Scully, I don’t know--”

She puts a hand on his back and leads him inside. “Think about it. You and Dana, forming a family for this child that needs one. It would be a little untraditional, of course, but the wedding could come in due time, no need to rush.”

Mulder’s head is spinning. This is a practical joke, right? The hidden cameras can feel free to reveal themselves any time now. 

The pair stops in the front hallway, a safe distance from everyone else in the kitchen. Mulder tries to mold his thoughts into cohesive sentences.

“Mrs. Scully, your intentions are good, but I think this solution is a bit extreme. I’m more than happy to help with Emily as much as possible, but becoming her father would just make things more complicated for all involved. And trust me, even if I were onboard, there’s no way Dana would go for it.”

Mama Scully nods. “I anticipated that. I’m going to talk with her tonight, straighten things out.”

Mulder does an awkward side-to-side shuffle. “If there’s one thing I know about her, it’s that her mind is not easily changed.” 

“Yes, well, I doubt this is something Dana has given much thought to. I’m hoping to get my argument across before she takes sides.”

“Mmm.” Mulder looks off toward the kitchen, where he would like to be. 

“I’ll let Dana know that we’ve discussed my proposition,” Mama Scully continues, “and then you two can talk it over, alright? I don’t mean to force you into anything. It just feels like a logical step. I’m sure you’d agree that your relationship is deeper than that of many married couples.”

“Sure, but it’s very different too,” Mulder mutters. This is not a topic to delve into with his partner’s mother, of all people. “I don’t know that they can be compared.”

“Perhaps you should consider it.” 

Mrs. Scully holds her hardened glance for a long second, and Mulder is the one who breaks. He scoots out of her direct line of sight, then gestures for her to go before him into the kitchen. “Shall we?”

------------------------------

They celebrate Emily’s 365th day around the sun like they’ve been by her side for every one of them. Before the crew arrived, Mama Scully whipped up vanilla cupcakes with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles, or as she put it, “a little bit of everything since I don’t know what she likes.” She even bought a happy birthday banner and sharpied in Emily’s name--not to mention five birthday hats and a humongous 1 candle that a single cupcake can barely hold up. 

It’s a testament to Emily’s character that she’s so unbothered by it all. She lets Mama Scully slip the hat into place, shows no visible distress to the admiration she receives from the room. She prefers her mother’s arms over anyone else’s--they are, after all, the most familiar of the unfamiliar--but she’s content anywhere that welcomes her. And this is a place where she is most welcome.

Scully reminds herself to capture these little moments in her mind...Emily’s effervescent giggle as Missy tickles the bottoms of her feet,  Mulder helping Mama Scully add extra sprinkles to each cupcake, the warm hug of a family’s company. Love, love, there is so much love here. 

The time comes for cake and singing and blown-out candles. Well, candle in this case. Mulder performs the honor of lighting said candle as everyone gathers around, Emily nestled in her mother’s arms. 

“Ready?” Mulder inquires. He conducts in time with his countdown. “One, two, one, two, three…”

The rendition is not in tune on anyone’s part (though Missy is the closest), but at least their intentions are harmonious. Scully’s heart swells. Mulder and Missy throw in a zany “and many more!” for the cherry on top of a joyous moment. Scully mourns its end; the birthday song is much too brief.

“Make a wish!” Missy chirps, and Scully leans forward and blows out the flame for her daughter. Safety, happiness, love...these are the things she asks for. These are the things that everyone deserves. 

Scully’s not surprised when her mother pulls her aside a few minutes later and leads her to the library, leaving Emily at Missy and Mulder’s mercy. Her mother is fond of sentimental speeches, but not brave enough for an audience. Scully steels herself for a mushy-gushy outpouring. 

Mama Scully shuts the door, turns to her daughter. “I’m overflowing with joy. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, mom,” Scully answers, tiresome already. “I’m a bit afraid this is all a dream that I’ll wake up from at any moment.”

“Pinch yourself. You’ll see that it’s not, I promise.”

Scully pinches her bicep, more for her mother’s amusement than anything. This is, in fact, reality.

“You must be very overwhelmed, I imagine,” Mrs. Scully remarks, beginning to pace. Scully follows with her eyes. 

“There is a lot that I haven’t sorted out yet, yes,” Scully replies, her suspicion about her mother’s intentions growing. “Work, for example. I only have one more day off, and then I have to explain everything to Skinner, and hopefully I’ll qualify for maternity leave. But the Bureau isn’t very good about that, it’s only two weeks.”

“Just remember that I’m always available to babysit Emily if you need it.”

“I know, mom.”

Mama Scully allows herself to get side-tracked for a moment. “You have a crib though? And diapers, and a high chair?”

Scully nods. “Required for the home study.”

“Good.” Mama Scully sweeps back a wayward piece of her daughter’s hair. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re all alone in this.”

Her mother’s soft gaze unearths a sudden swell of emotion; tears prick at the back of Scully’s eyes. “I know, mom.”

“And I know that you’re gonna say you are Emily’s only legal guardian, and so you are technically alone, but you know what? You don’t have to be,” Mama Scully asserts. “There is someone out there who is willing to fill that void for you.”

Scully rolls her eyes, her brief emotional trance broken. “Don’t tell me you're gonna set me up with the Prizatskys’ son again.”

“Oh no,” Mrs. Scully laughs. “Besides, he’s engaged now.”

“Oh.” Scully tries to miss the patronization in her mother’s voice. 

“What I’m saying is,” Mrs. Scully continues, “there is a man in your life who is loyal, trustworthy, hard-working, and in the perfect position to provide for you and Emily.”

“If you’re referring to Mulder,” Scully starts, an eyebrow raised, “I’m not exactly planning to shun him anytime soon.”

“Yes, but have you ever truly let him in?”

Mrs. Scully has aimed her arrow and hit her target, a stunning blow. The most damning parts of Scully’s inner dialogue have just been echoed back at her. 

Wounded, she swallows hard. “That’s really none of your business. And just because he’s in my life doesn’t mean that he magically fills the role of Emily’s father. How would that even work? Emily would have to be shuttled back and forth...She’d be split between one parent and the other...It would make her life more hectic.”

“Dana, Dana…” Mama Scully pulls her daughter close, recognizing that she’s struck a nerve. Scully stiffens into the hug. “Remember when you were little, and your father would be gone on long deployments, and you’d draw pictures of him in his uniform, and tell your class about how your father was a Navy captain, and you were so proud? You barely had a sense of what that meant, but you knew he was doing something important.”

Scully relaxes into their embrace. “And when I missed him the worst, you’d let me wear his old sailor hat.”

“Yes.” Mama Scully takes a hearty breath. “I was there every day, feeding you, bathing you, sending you off to school...and you loved me, I don’t doubt that, but I wasn’t the one who put stars in your eyes.”

Scully nods against her mother’s shoulder. Damn, if she isn’t winding her way toward a convincing point.

“Emily’s gonna love you whatever you choose. But the fuller her life is--the more love she’s surrounded by--the more she’ll have to give, and the brighter her light will shine.”

Scully sniffles, shaken by the truth of this. God, to know as much love as she’s known in her life and resist it still. That’s not the way a life is meant to be lived.

“Thank you, mom,” she whispers in her mother’s ear. It’s an imprecise affirmation--encompassing everything and yet a specific something that she can no longer reject. 

Scully pulls away, smiles at her mom. “No more meddling, okay? I’ll sort this out for myself.”

Mama Scully laughs. “You just needed that push. Now that the ball’s rolling, I’ll leave it alone.”

“You’d better,” Scully teases. She gestures toward the door. “I should get back to my baby.”

“Yes,” Mama Scully grins, “you should.”

-------------------------------

The knock on the door comes at a quarter to noon, as Scully expected. She didn’t expect that she’d be scrubbing grape juice off the tile when it happened, but hey, these are the disruptions everyone in her life will have to get used to. Including--especially--her. 

“I’ll get it!” Missy’s voice breezes through the apartment. 

A moment later, Scully finds herself level with a pair of black dress shoes. Big ones. A twelve if she had to guess.

“Scully, if you wanna know my shoe size, just ask,” Mulder jests, and has he read her mind? She feels like she’s been caught in a compromising act, though she’s done nothing but wipe up a sticky purple mess. She cranes her neck, looks up at him.

“Good morning, Mulder,” she mumbles, running her hand over the spill area. Coming up clean, she finds her footing. The top of her head is even with her partner’s collarbone. 

Scully thumbs toward Emily, who is gobbling cheese crackers in her high chair without a care in the world. “Apparently she doesn’t like grape juice.”

“Grape juice?” Mulder jeers. “She knows orange juice is where it’s at.”

Scully ignores him, but makes a mental note to add OJ to the grocery list. And apple too, just to be safe.

“Let me get my shoes and I’ll be ready to go,” she says, shuffling off in her pantyhose without waiting for a response. 

They have a lunchtime meeting with Skinner to explain...well, everything. Mulder doesn’t need to be there--as his partner was quick to remind him--but he insists on advocating for her. No amount of I’m not a damsel in distress, Mulder will put him off. She’s so much more than that, he knows. Hence why he’s got to do all he can so her life isn’t defined by its crises. Besides, he’ll take any excuse to sneak down to the office on his day off.

He told Scully he’d pick her up because it’d be easier on her, sure, but also because he has an important delivery to make. He nods to Missy, and she grabs the goods off the front table. He wanted to make his entrance before the big moment. His presence known, he’s ready to go.

“Emily, Uncle Mulder brought something for you!” Missy sing-songs as she places the gifts in Mulder’s hidden hands. The girl looks up, her attention easily diverted here and there. 

Mulder tries to tip-toe forward--hands behind his back--without coming off as creepy, which is harder than it seems. He takes it as a good sign that Emily doesn’t spook and wonders what it means that Missy called him Uncle Mulder. Did she and Scully have a conversation about it? Is this what he’ll be known as? Or was that just a last minute reach to fill the space? 

He pushes these thoughts away, focuses on the blue-eyed girl in front of him. 

“Emily,” he begins, and it rolls off his tongue like a devotion, “I thought your bunny might like some friends.”

He reveals the fox first, then the UFO. His personal mark on Emily’s budding stuffed animal collection. She lets out a peep of astonishment and reaches for the fox, fascinated with its bushy tail. She hits it back and forth so it wags like a dog’s.

Mulder chuckles, his brain lighting up in places it never has before. Missy hangs back and waits for her sister to reemerge. Sure enough, Scully melts at the sight, stopping short so she doesn’t interrupt it. She clutches her heart. She and Missy share a smile.

“My, my, look at this,” Scully saunters in, ruffles Emily’s hair. “Do you know what this is, Em?” she asks, patting the fox. “This is a fox.”  She points to Mulder. “And this is a Fox, too!” 

Emily doesn’t get the joke, but that’s okay. 

“And do you know what this is?” Mulder prompts, picking up the flying saucer. He moves it through the air like it’s flying. Emily reaches for it, and god, Mulder knows the feeling.

“This is a UFO, Emily,” Mulder tells her sweetly. “Aliens!”

“No, no.” Scully plucks the UFO from his hand. “No aliens, Em.” 

She lays the saucer on the high chair tray. “Mama’s gotta go away for a little bit, but I’ll be back soon.” She kisses Em’s temple. “Auntie Missy will be right here.”

Missy steps forward. “We can play with Mr. Fox and the al--” Scully shoots her a look. ”The UFO!” she corrects, winking at Mulder. She scoops her niece out of the high chair. “Say ‘bye Mama!’”

Emily doesn’t have that grasp on words yet, and they all know it, but Missy gets her to wave. “Okay, now ‘bye Uncle Mulder!’” Another wave. Smiles all around.

Mulder and Scully move reluctantly toward the door. Scully groans as Missy and the baby girl slip from her view. 

“They’ll be okay,” Mulder assures his partner.

“I know,” Scully sighs, “but will I?”

Mulder rests his hand in the familiar spot on her back as they exit her apartment. “Absolutely. Skinner will grant you the leave, and you’ll be back with your baby in no time.”

She nods, bites her lip, and slows, suddenly wistful. Mulder stops, turns to her. “Scully…?”

“Mulder, did my mom have a conversation with you?”

He nods. 

“And...did you think it was kind of crazy too?”

He nods again.

She takes a breath and rises to her tip-toes. She could pretend not to know what she’s doing, but she does. Oh, she does. 

“But not out of the realm of extreme possibility…?” she coos, eyes centered on his lips. 

Mulder smiles shyly. He always expected it would be this way: Scully the coquette to his boyish ineptitude. Who knew she’d be stealing his lines.

His hands find her waist, pulling her closer there in the hallway. “No, no,” he muses, “I think it’s pretty solidly in the realm…” He nuzzles her neck, breathes in her sweet smell, and nibbles her ear, all in the beat of a hummingbird’s wing. “...of extreme possibility,” he purrs into her ear, satisfied with himself. 

It reminds Scully of do you believe in the existence of  ~extraterrestrials~ and how she knew then that he was a little bit unhinged, whip-snap smart, and too goddamn charming for his own good. That either fate or her own unconquerable desire would bring them together. She knows now that fate conspired to keep them apart. What’s unfolding is neither an act of its hand nor a last-ditch effort of a dead-end life. It is one choice among many, undertaken out of sheer belief in the happiness it could bring.

She looks into his eyes, which look back at her with a caramel-drizzle melt. Yes, yes, this is right. She fans a hand out on his cheek, runs her thumb over his mole. She has always wanted to touch it, but could never come up with a good excuse. 

They’ve delayed the inevitable long enough. Scully leans in, still on her tip-toes, and Mulder bends to close the distance. Their lips meet, and there’s no fireworks. No, it’s simple serenity. Like coming home after a long time away--though this is a house they have never walked into until now, they have a feeling they will be walking into it for the rest of their lives.

And then Scully pulls away, and it’s over but it’s just beginning.

[davidmann95]

So you've talked a lot about Darkseid, but what about the other New Gods?

SO THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR ALMOST AS LONG AS THIS BLOG’S BEEN AROUND AND I JUST FINALLY FINISHED FOURTH WORLD

Well that sure was something. My musings on some major players that I either have substantial thoughts on, or where I especially think the majority consensus/interpretation has subsequently gotten them wrong (a state Kirby is well aware of, because a HUGE part of “Even Gods Can Die!” is him being frustrated at subsequent handlings of the characters even by 1984 mucking things up):

Orion: Perhaps the most hard-done by as a result of Kirby never being able to fully finish Fourth World as he had imagined it, as his character arc ends on a cliffhanger for a decade and is forced into a rapid completion later. When he emerges, while a warrior born he’s also every bit the classical, magnificent hero you expect to see in a superhero comic to try and overshadow his inner demons, while by the end of New Gods he’s embraced not only his true face (the OTHER face, as his father would put it) in the fight against Apokolips but the murderous, sadistic rage that is his birthright, reveling in inflicting agony and very much the berserker others have since portrayed him as. Surely as much a product of his trauma from a childhood on Apokolips (a detail frequently glossed over) and a sense of being unwanted as anything genetic, it’s ultimately unconditional love for him as he truly is in Hunger Dogs that lets him overcome his fear that he can’t be anything but a monstrous tool in service of better people than himself, and embrace ‘the tomorrow overture’. Even his anger has its righteous if tragic place as a primal force of upheaval: “It defies time! It stands firm against the hammers of change! It mocks life and defies death!” I won’t get to it for awhile yet, but very curious what Simonson does with him.

Lightray: Rules! He’s the closest the New Gods have to a traditional superhero, and it’s in that capacity that while a lousy warrior next to Orion (Kalibak thinks little of his attempt at fighting him, mockingly deeming him a “callow little killer”), his strength is in transformation: he makes himself light, he turns a tormented weapon into the glory boat, a machine armed against the New Gods into a weapon against Darkseid, Orion from a man alone into a friend. He’s not a warrior, but he’s the one who makes a better world worth waging war for and who might one day make such war unnecessary. Also he and Orion have definitely fucked.

Mister Miracle: Not WILDLY off the mark since, but it’s interesting that as I expect a result of JLI he’s been written so often since as an everymanish, relatable, bordering-on-comedic figure, when under Kirby he was very much the archetypal good guy. One often committed to freeing others as he had been freed himself, in the likes of Ted Brown and Shilo Norman, an avenue I’m surprised hasn’t been explored more often from what I’ve seen. Also worth noting: Darkseid declared the moment he got his hands on the kid that Granny would be twice as hard on him as others, and that it would eventually drive the boy away and let the war resume. Which not only indicates Darkseid’s understanding of the subtlety needed in control, but would seem to take Scott’s rebellion out of his own hands…except that at the moment of his escape Darkseid still offered him a choice, implored the boy to allow him to “complete the destruction of Scott Free – so you may live with the majesty that is the power of DARKSEID!” And instead he turned his back on his god and chose to be what he is.

Barda: Shockingly, great as she’s been since, her background is often severely mischaracterized. The shorthand is “love saved her and turned her from a servant of evil to a champion of good!”, but that’s…while not entirely wrong, a bad way of presenting it. When she leaves Apokolips initially, even after she starts hanging out with Scott Free and Oberson after having helped the former escape years earlier, she still believes in Darkseid. She fights and hates her former allies not because she’s turned against his vision of the universe (this is in fact a major aspect often overlooked - under Kirby Darkseid’s agents don’t simply fear him, they sincerely believe in him and his vision of how the universe works) but because she sees them as loathsome, brutish executors of his grand design. In short, she doesn’t think it’s the system that’s the problem, but a bunch of bad apples. It’s her experience with freedom and simple pleasures and life on Earth, her lingering guilt over the death of her friend Auralie as eventually manifested in her protection and training of Shiloh Norman, and yes, her eventual realized love for Scott, that brings her around to realizing she truly desires a life beyond what Darkseid can offer.

Forever People: Okay I actually don’t have a ton to say about the Forever People, though I do think they’re underrated and underutilized. Naive and in over their heads as the frequently are they’re also the best of their peers, believing in freedom and transformation and the potential of those around them to become better - their defining moment for me is when they reassure Sonny Sumo that having the power of the Anti-Life Equation doesn’t make him a monster. “Where we come from the Anti-Life Equation is one of many others–almost as awesome!! But they merely exist!! It’s we who live!!”

Metron: The big figure I haven’t really been able to crack. Machinery as not necessarily cold mechanization but extensions of ourselves and our souls, and able to nourish them in turn, is a big aspect of Fourth World, but Metron as the embodiment of mechanization and knowledge feels like not just an outsider as he’s framed but one who never quite became whatever Kirby had in mind for him, making his crucial role at the end of Hunger Dogs a bit of a non-sequitur for me. I’d be curious to hear what other people think.

Desaad: God Desaad’s been made boring. Not that he isn’t fairly one-dimensional under Kirby too, but his craft and awful glee as the god of torture isn’t just in strapping people to tables and poking them with unpleasant tools, it’s in manipulating their emotions and agonies to a fever pitch - he should be such an unsettling figure, and instead he’s a simpering helpless toady.

Highfather: Not a perfect figure, given how he’s framed with the likes of Fastbak, and the Forever People, and the Pact, willing to deploy fear as a weapon in the name of peace as Darkseid will use chaos in the name of a larger order, but always trying - as with Darkseid, an imperfect vessel of what he represents, but capable of growth and realization as a leader.

Steppenwolf/Heggra: Essential to understanding The Pact, they’re the old ways of the world and war, petty despots and warrior-kings, supplanted by fascism in Darkseid.

Darkseid: So I’ve discussed Darkseid before in terms of his broad use and ideas, but the very specific ways Kirby presented him have their own dimensions. In the world of superheroes he’s larger-than-life and often such in here too, but in rare moments, and by the end entirely as all artifice is stripped away? Kirby’s Darkseid is a profoundly human figure. He recognizes the irony that the Forever People believe in letting all be who they are, for that very need to fulfill himself is why he must pursue conquest (“And of course - that’s the pity of it!”). While he thinks to himself “Oh, how heroes LOVE to flaunt their nobility in the face of death! Yet THEY know better than most that war is but the COLD game of the BUTCHER!” he too believes in “Boldness! Risk! The raw meat of existence!” even as he consigns himself to the role of puppetmaster rather than warrior. He does or so he tells himself “no more than what HAS to be done!!” rather than indulging in cruelty for its own sake. He dresses up in ridiculous costumes for his schemes, he gets sarcastic, he recognizes honor and respects worthy foes, he feels love, he craves the laughter of a friend, he fears the obsolesce of his preferred way of doing things, he tells himself that should he achieve omnipotence others will find “eternal shelter”. He’s a person, one capable of a range of emotions, but he is the TIGER FORCE AT THE CORE OF ALL THINGS regardless…not because he is a mythic unstoppable force, but because every day he rises and believes in himself over all others, because there is a black hole within him that he can only hope dominance might fill regardless of what pain he finds in the process. But as Mister Miracle’s battle with the Lump foretold, when left truly alone over a world that is himself he will be only within “a self-made prison”, reflections of his own fear and agony.

[ninjastormhawkkat]

My Crazy Wordgirl Theory #2

I will get to writing stories for my version of the Becky Boxleitner au. I just really need to get this out of the way. After going through sites for the canon facts of the Wordgirl television series and re-watching old Wordgirl episodes to help me write some stories for my version of the au, I sort of discovered something interesting. In a scene from “The Rise of Miss Power” we see an image of a male and female Lexiconian superhero duo painted on the ceiling of the room in the episode special. Now about everyone in the fandom has speculated that image is a painting of her biological parents, or an idea of what her parents would look like. But what if that were not true? What if that painting was just a symbolic image of what the humanoid people on Lexicon typically looked like? Back in the episode, “Wordgirl Makes A Mistake”, Becky mentions that she accidentally crawled onto the ship of Captain Huggy Face, a famous (Lexiconian) Air Force Pilot when she was really little. For about 10 or 11 years, Bob and Becky have been raised on earth with no attempts to get back to Lexicon, and no one from Lexicon has come to find them. I am not trying to paint Becky’s biological parents in a bad light, but why was no Lexiconian searching for their lost child? From looking at Wordgirl’s Spaceship Hideout, it appears that people from Lexicon have the technological resources to track down the crashed ship of a famous pilot and find him and a lost child. This would take them only a few years. Also looking at Wordgirl’s origin story, it seems that Lexicon is not lightyears away from Earth or Becky and Bob would have been a bit older than when they were found in the origin flashback. (I know it is a cartoon, but some rules of science still apply to the show). I don’t know how far the planets are from each other but I think they exist in the same solar system if indicated by the alien tech that Lexiconians are able to travel faster to planets without aging much. Again I ask if this is possible, then why has no one come to rescue Becky and Bob? What if it was because Becky was meant to have crawled onto Huggy’s ship and never be found? We don't know the strength of Lexiconian’s memory at a young age. We know they can remember everything they read since Becky knows every word in the dictionary, but we don’t know how early they maintain a photographic memory. I believe that Bob may have told Becky the story about how they came to earth when she was old enough. From watching that scene, we can assume Becky only has memories of crawling onto a ship and falling asleep, then waking up to a startled pilot. Bob even has no clue how a child with no business being near a spaceship about to take off so he tells her what he only knows. Could it be Becky was never meant to be found by anyone else from Lexicon? Why so? Why hide from a planet of heroes? Here is where the conspiracy I formulated in my head starts. Let’s consider this question: What if Becky was only half Lexiconian?

We first need to look at Lexicon’s political structure. About everyone who has watched or watches the show must have thought at one point that Lexicon was a planet of heroes which is why Becky wanted to use her powers for good and become a superhero at an early age. What we may not realize is that the term hero could apply differently on Lexicon than on Earth. In the flashback of Wordgirl’s origin, Becky refers to Huggy as a famous air force pilot. He is even called Captain Huggy Face. Also in the special, “The Rise of Miss Power”, Huggy gives Wordgirl a book titled Super Advanced Secret Battle Moves of the Planet Lexicon in order to help her in the final battle against Miss Power. Now I don’t know about you, but this makes me think that Lexicon had some type of military control and the term hero on their planet was a military term. One of the statues of a Lexiconian in that special was wearing a Roman-style helmet, something a soldier in the Roman army would wear. I don’t know if Lexicon has a military government or just a government with a strong military influence. I don’t know what type of rule Lexicon has, but it definitely has a military of some sort. From the statues and painting we seen of Lexiconians, Wordgirl’s outfit is typical outer clothing for Lexicon. This also sparks an idea of a common uniform for Lexicons which would make sense if there is some type of military influence on the planet. This ties into my theory about Becky. Now from what I have learned about aliens from all the sci-fi themed shows and movies such as Doctor Who and Monsters Vs. Aliens, most aliens seem to view the human race as a lesser species compared to them. We can see that with how Miss Power acted toward the villains and the citizens. Even though she was not a Lexiconian, Miss Power still viewed everyone as lesser and as servants to herself. In my opinion with Kid Math, before Wordgirl set him straight, he seemed to view heroics as a game or something interesting that he could copy for himself. He was friendly, but he appeared to take what Becky was teaching him about being a normal kid as a learning experience at first. I don’t know if this also applied to Lexiconians, but I think that due to the implications of military themes shown in the series, there are some that might have had a purity complex. There could have been Lexiconians might have wanted only their species to be the “heroes” and keep that in their own bloodline. I don’t think every Lexiconian held that belief since in one episode we see Bob on a date with Bosco, but maybe some in higher social classes strongly believed in purity, or would never consider marrying a human. With the evidence of military themes, it is possible they have class structures on Lexicon. Now what if a high class Lexiconian, broke that purity thinking and mated with a human. Here is my theory on Becky’s Parentage.

A woman from Lexicon, someone with military training like huggy has and in a high position, was put in an arranged marriage with someone she did not love at all nor could ever love. This person, a military man, possibly with a higher rank than the woman and have strong familial ties on Lexicon, was a corrupt person. She tried everything she could to get out this arranged marriage, but even her family was pushing her to do it because of reasons such as tradition or importance of appearance or something that only concerns them and not the woman. The woman soon takes an exploration opportunity and uses it to get away from all the drama she is facing and for her own mental and emotional health. She soon lands on planet earth, specifically a place called Fair City, and explores around for a while. This woman soon spots a distracted human male about to cross onto a busy road. This woman already has a good nature and quickly pulls the man out of danger without anyone noticing her unusual super speed. The man, grateful, turns to thank the woman. According to how love works from the Hotel Transylvania movies, they immediately zinged. This man and woman get to know each other a little bit more over the time the women was allowed to stay away from Lexicon. She does not give every detail about herself (her alien background), but she feels free with this man who respects her emotions and loves her for her. They get more intimate over months and everything is going great. Then she feels ill one day and under the guise of going to a hospital, the woman goes back to her ship for a medical scan. To her surprise, she is pregnant with her boyfriend’s child. This is bad because her time on exploration is about to be up and if she returns any time later, they will find about about her hybrid offspring and her corrupt fiance may kill her and her child as “punishment” for finding true love. She doesn’t have the option to not come back because they can and will do anything to find her and this would put her lover in danger as well. With a heavy heart she soon leaves her lover and returns to Lexicon and marries her corrupt fiance. She does this to protect her lover and child. This woman soon gives birth to a daughter that has her human father’s eyes with her mother’s facial features, hair color and style. The top parted bangs is a possible mixture of her human father’s and Lexiconian mother’s hair style. Her husband soon becomes suspicious about his wife’s time away and “their” child. About a year later, her husband discovers the child’s human lineage and goes into a dark rage. This woman hurries and escapes the dome city she lived in and soon encounters Captain Huggy Face about to take off. She sees that her husband and his men are about to catch up with her. She puts down her child and urges her to walk towards the ship. In a last ditch effort to save her child, she sacrifices herself and holds back her husband and his men long enough so the ship takes off and there is nothing that can be done. The fate of the woman is unknown.

In regards to Becky’s human father, let’s go over some canonical evidence. It says on the Wordgirl wiki that Becky has light brown skin. I believe Becky might be biracial. She could possibly be an offspring of an African American Woman and a white ethnic man. I googled what biracial kids look like and Becky looks similar to a biracial child born of a African American parent and a white ethnic parent. (I don’t know the what proper term I should use for referring to White ethnicity and I do not want to offend anyone by accident.) (I am just basing my conspiracy theory on visual evidence and scientific fact.) For about everyone, except one person, on Wordgirl, they have black eyes. I have seen fanart of the characters with different eye colors. For Becky’s dad, while I agree he could have blue eyes, it is also possible for him to have brown eyes as well, the eye color Becky inherited. Another thing I noticed that Becky could have inherited from her human father is his personality. Let’s review Becky’s personality and behaviors. Becky does not enjoy her family singing on the road or doing about any family car activity on a constant loop. Though not often, Becky is able to use gadgets and seems to have an understanding of how each part should work in a machine. She was able to make sure the egg and apple slicer that was entered in the Young Inventor’s competition was able to still function as intended after pressing them together using her super strength. Another thing is that she gets irritated when the spotlight is taken off her every time she accomplishes something as Wordgirl such as with Tiny Big and Granny May when she was an undefeated bingo champion. Wordgirl/Becky also tends to get a bit sassy when she is irritated just like her dad. She also acts proud of herself and her accomplishments as Becky and Wordgirl which border on the line between humble and prideful. Like her dad she does get distracted and a little absentminded such as when she leaves Huggy behind after a crime or when she gets too focused on her interests such as Pretty Princess and boy crushes. There are times when Becky wants to accomplish something, either for her own desires or to just impress people, she will become inconsiderate of others. Examples include Becky interrupting Violet’s rehearsal for the Romeo and Juliet play and revealing Scoop’s personal tooth secret when she took over running the school’s paper for a day. Becky also sometimes feels she “needs to always be the winner”. It can be assumed that she copies that behavior from Tim Botsford who gets very competitive and upset when his family does not win. The thing is that Tim is almost immediately humbled afterwords when he puts into perspective that he did his best and is a winner in his family’s and his own eyes. Becky may also share that perspective sometimes, but she will still tend to fret over her mistakes until someone calms her down. As I said, Becky sometimes still needs to feel as the winner, more so in her battles as Wordgirl against villains. We have also seen Becky feel upset when people don’t like her work such as when Violet and Bob hid Becky’s horrible painting in the janitor’s closet when they were decorating the school gym for a dance while Becky was fighting evil as Wordgirl. Becky is also seen to be clever and tricky when she needs to such as in the episode “Bend It Like Becky” when she was trying to get Dr. Two Brains to agree with a soccer match that would determine which group was going to enjoy the field for the next 3 months.

One final thing before I finish is that throughout some episodes, we can see Becky similarly imitate her human dad’s facial features and body gestures when he is there. Now I leave off with this question. Do Becky’s personality and behaviors I mentioned remind you of any cheese loving, villain scientist? I will let you think about it.

[whereflowersbloom]

Cracked heart

He had made a terrible mistake. Somehow, before the tragedy he’d begun to believe in the visions of a bright and hopeful future. Of a new world where the stars listened and dreams were answered. His half-human heart had shown him how foolish he was. It was his fault. It had been all his damn fault.

Everything was maddening chaos. Red lights and noisy alerts in the monitoring equipment of the Tower. Nightwing yelling orders at everyone, preparing for a major battle. Starfire organized two groups. There two teams were forcibly separated by a force field that cut off compete communication between them. Of course they never expected the aftermath would cost them more than they were able to imagine...

"We need to wait for Raven.” He answered to Starfire, his voice cracking mid-sentence. He knew he they had to leave, but if they could just wait one more minute. One more minute. For her. He wouldn’t leave her behind. More voices warning him to hurry up. It was too much for his ears and head.

“I can't leave her behind!" His voice shakes with panic and fear, his entire being was shaking as the alarms blasted his ears, red lights flashing continually. He doesn’t waste any more time and took off to the sky eyes scanning for any signs of Raven.

Deep inside, a small part of him was sobbing in wretched, horrified guilt as his half-kryptonian eyes looked at the brutalized body of his teammate. He recalled her expression. Heartbreaking panic and torment made her achingly familiar eyes bright and chaotic. There was a desire stirring inside him to return to the days before she became broken, before her inconsolable soul shattered, a minute, a single minute just to save him was the key to her happiness. But even he knew such wounds of the heart never healed even with the fast flow of time.

With his heart clenching painfully he took a step closer to her door room. He didn’t bother to knock, quietly he opened the door and let himself in.

“Raven...” Conner released a breath that he hadn’t fully realized he had been holding and felt his shoulders slump with inhuman physical fatigue.

Raven opened her amethyst eyes to meet electric blue ones, she recognized the guilt in them. She had stayed in her room for more than five days. She closed her eyes and begged to Azar this was a terrible nightmare, to listen to her prayers. Let him live. Please let him come back to me. She still wanted to scream. Instead she turned away and looked towards the window. Most days, she would only stare vacantly into space. Sometimes kept looking at the clock visualizing Damian walking inside, done with patrolling, allowing her to listen to his steady heartbeat as they snuggled in their bed.

“He’s dead.” Her voice was so low and hoarse that Conner felt a bile of anger in his throat. Raven sounded devastatingly broken. She sounded disappointed that she did not sound like herself or was it the hurt of admitting the cruel truth out loud.

She likely needed a shower since her hair was greasy but she could not find the energy to climb out of bed and get into the shower. Couldn’t find the energy or will to do anything. She felt disgusting. Kori had informed her she was suffering from depression and when she was ready to seek therapy or medication, they would be there for her in any way. Raven did not believe she was truly depressed. The idea seemed bizarre. She had just lost...her lover. One half of her soul. Her heart had been ripped out her chest and spattered. Robin was gone. Damian.

Conner swallowed hard. The grief and sorrow were consuming her slowly, eating her up from inside out. Her face was breaking out, particularly around her forehead and chin. Her eyes had dark circles and her face appeared so shallow that she looked like a different person. This was not the Raven he knew.

Please, he begged silently, please understand. Please let me save you. Those words were the ones he wanted to voice with urgency. ‘He isn’t here but I love you’ even so he couldn’t confess his feelings for her. Not when she’s in this state.

It’s over, they were back home but it’s never over really. In her mind, she was in another world part of another constellation and system, it’s on fire. There was nothing else she could think about, nothing else she could feel. But the scalding hot flames turning her lover to ashes and dust. Reduced to nothing. In minutes Robin was gone. All Conner could feel in that moment was the blurriness in his vision perhaps caused by the sting of the radiation or the fact that he could barely get any air inside his lungs despite his alien genes. The grim realization that he probably couldn’t keep going any longer, if he didn’t step her out in time, hitting him hard and suddenly, making a rush of raw pain spread through his body like poison. There was no time to mourn Robin, there was nothing left of him to take except for his sword, which Raven clung almost inseparably to as if her life depended on it. His last possession. No time to be relieved that they were both alive, or scared to death because she was in such danger. She persisted using her powers attempting to bring the dead back to life; fruitless. No success. She used up all her magic and energy until she eventually collapsed. Conner made the decision then, quickly he took her in his arms and flew away from this everlasting bloody hell of a place.

He was right here last week and all of a sudden he was gone. “Damian is gone...” She cried painfully with broken voice, finally it all was let out with anguished screams and sobs, and then she could not breathe. All the emotions she had been holding onto for the best part of the week. She felt trapped in her own body, her mind racing at ninety miles an hour, her heart felt like it was going to explode, and then she was hyperventilating. Overwhelmed. Her boyfriend, second in command of their team and the strongest person she knew....was dead. Her gentle Damian.

After a minute she perceived a source of warmth embracing her protectively.

It was Conner and as soon as he saw Raven’s sweaty and trembling state he immediately went over to her and tried to get her to use him to support herself and get control over her breathing.

“Focus on my voice Raven." Conner whispered soothingly, stroking her dark hair until she calmed down. "You're gonna make through this, I promise." She let out another sob and he continued to rock her back and forth. He closed his eyes shut as he felt like his heart was being stabbed over and over again. Gods, how powerless he was not being able to comfort the woman he loved profoundly.

Never he thought that she would need him this much. He dreamed of having her in his arms countless times but never this way. He would have fought for her openly. Made his intentions clear as water. Why did Wayne had to be so reckless and jump to action? Where did his so called redemption and sacrifice got him?

Something else inside him twisted as he thought the kind of pain she must be feeling to let him cradle her like this. She had never shown him such vulnerability, fragility so defenseless. Somply touching her making it seem like she would vanish in the air. Yes, everyone mourned Robin but none had the right to mourn him like she did.

“He died before my eyes... I couldn’t bring him back...” As those words hit her in the chest once again for the thousandth time in five days. She squeezed violet eyes shut as fresh tears burned at now red eyes. The life they had built had crumbled away, she had none of it now. Nothing.

Her hot tears streaming down her face hit him like a punch to the gut. The sound that escaped pink lips could hardly be called human, a mix between a sob and a wail. The mournful melody of a banshee weeping resonating betond all other sounds on earth. She felt her knees buckle beneath and almost crumpled to the floor but Conner got her. He would never let her fall or suffer alone. No.

"I'm here. I will always be here for you, I promise." He vowed solemnly with firm voice, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. He wished to held her a little tighter. For a little longer. For her to see him with a new light, gave him a ray of hope.

He didn't know how long they remained like that. And honestly he didn't care. Even if his arms could hurt for holding her, and his back ached like hell for being in the same position for god knows how long. He didn’t give a single fuck.

All he cared about was that no matter what, he would have done absolutely everything in his power to make sure that she got through this. It would take a very long time. And maybe she wouldn’t be completely whole again, but whatever she had to offer him in the future. He would gladly accept it and stand by her side until the end of time. Because he understood perfectly you didn’t just move on and get over the love of your life. Conner knew it too well. He would keep her safe for him, in his name.

As the sky loved the mountains providing rain to water their trees, helping them grow strong gracefully and with ease. He would love her the same.

I’m feelings bit down so I wrote some sad and angsty Damirae/Konrae sorry 😭😭😭

Might edit later but hope you enjoy @amaati @grassfour @andthendk @xxitzmikoxx @niahti @alerialblu

[wouldduskwood]

Jake's POV Descendants of Despair Part 53

As I lay beside her, I thought about how much I had changed. I wasn't obsessively checking my computer anymore because I had everything I have ever wanted beside me. Though I wanted to keep her safe, she also kept me grounded and real. I knew that, if it came to it, she could escape pretty much any situation. She had proven that to me on more than one occasion. This and her absolute trust in me helped me trust myself too. Trust that my hacks wouldn't fail. That they would notify me the instant something wasn't right. Now these fears only returned when she was out of my sight. She had made my life worth living. I wasn't just surviving. I wasn't just protecting the information I held. I was living life, for the first time in so long. My eyes soon grew heavy, holding her in my arms and listening to her sleep. As I began to drift, my mind wandered back to her laying Dan on his ass. Though my thoughts had a dream like quality to them, it still made me insanely happy.

I woke relatively early, holding her lightly and staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. She startled awake not long after and must have noticed my strange new discomfort. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” she asked quietly. I nodded thoughtfully. “I guess discomfort has become comfortable to us?” I questioned and sighed. “I should be happy, we had an amazing night...I slept in more comfort than I have in a long time, yet somehow it just doesn’t feel right.” It was a strange thing to admit, and I hated that she felt the same way I did. We should be able to enjoy comfort, not fear it.

“Check your laptop,” she murmured, sitting herself up on the bed. I stood uneasily, noticing how free my muscles moved with sleep in a proper bed. She got up with me and we got dressed, then as I went to check my laptop she began pacing back and forth. I wondered if she was as hungry as I was, we hadn’t eaten since yesterday before meeting up with Dan. When she picked up her backpack and rummaged inside, I figured she was. As she scavenged, I grabbed a couple of energy bars I had salvaged from the remaining food and appeared beside her, handing her one. “I grabbed a couple of these from the car last night. Thought we might need something. We can get some proper breakfast after I have checked where we are at,” I said as I opened my own bar and began chewing on it.

She accepted my offer and began eating, sitting close to me, watching what I was doing on the laptop screen. Because my laptop was so limited, I found I was having to flick from screen to screen to ensure everything was in good working order and there had been no attempted breaches. I was fairly engrossed in my work when I heard her mumble, “Hm,” quietly. I wondered what it was that had drawn her attention. “Yes?” I asked, pausing briefly in my screen flicking and typing. “Nothing, just...you’re still keeping track of Richy?” she asked. “You saw that, huh?” I replied. She really amazed me, I had been working at a fairly high speed to get us out of here as soon as I could and yet she had still picked up on what I was doing. “Well done, I am impressed. You know a fair bit about programming to pick up on that from the small strings you must have seen.” She shrugged in embarrassment. “You don’t mind me watching?” she asked in wonder. Her question touched on my epiphanies of the previous evenings. She was part of me and she hadn't seen it yet. Her question made me laugh in wonder. I thought I had shown her just how much she meant to me by allowing her access to my system but I decided she needed me to say it.

She glared at me as I turned to face her, shaking my head to try and gain control of myself. “Here’s the thing,” I replied soothingly. “I love you and I trust you. Usually my trust in people is based on what I have been able to dig up about them online. Not with you, you are a blank entity online. Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is, my reaction to you hadn’t made sense until I decided that you were made for me, as dumb as that sounds, I think of you as a soulmate...if they were to exist. Because you are truly part of me, I have made everything I do part of you as well. You have full access to my set up remember? You also have full access to my phone through yours. Everything I am, it is you.”

As I expected, she seemed happy but uncomfortable at my expression of love, so she turned away from my gaze and then pouted as I giggled at her reaction. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it, I know how much you love me,” I replied smugly. She growled under her breath then leaped on me, but I was already expecting her response and caught her with a grin. “Okay, maybe we should get you some proper food eh?” I asked, trying to stifle my giggles. “Urgh,” she groaned. I closed my laptop and packed it in a bag then motioned for her to gather her gear as well. Though she had grounded me, I still didn't like to stay in one place for too long without a full compliment of tech gear to keep watch over us. Also, enclosed spaces started to get to me after a while. It is nearly impossible to escape from a small space like this.

Once we had cleared out the motel room of our personal belongings, we dropped the key on the table then put our hoods up and left. It was too early to head to meet Dan, so we had a little time to fill in before we would need to head back to the prison. “Let’s go through a drive thru,” I suggested, knowing full well that she preferred to eat healthy but unable to part from her just yet. “Then we can decide on our next steps.” I was pleased when she nodded in relief.

The first drive thru we saw, I pulled in and we argued briefly over the least disgusting options from the menu before both deciding on our breakfast. I pulled up to the window with my head down, we paid, got our order and left. She picked up her bag as if it was something she hadn't seen before and didn't trust, and sniffed it in mild disgust. I glanced at her and grinned. “Okay, I know, not the best but at least it's something.” she raised an eyebrow as she pulled her breakfast muffin from the bag. “...is it though?...” she asked. Her expression and reply were so funny that she had me laughing as I pulled the car over near a deserted park. “Okay, gross food is still food,” I grinned as I dug into my bag and began to eat. I had to admit, I too preferred the healthier options. We needed the physical fitness ability to keep on top of things.

“So, the plan?” I asked. “I take it there is a bit more to it than the simple stuff you gave the buffoon.” Surprisingly, and to my absolute delight, she snickered in response then became angry at herself so nudged me with her elbow. “Sorry,” I responded with a sly grin. Her reaction to Dan had been absolutely priceless. “Yeah, you need to have the cameras going, follow everything outside. If something happens, you need to get a signal to me without digital means. I can’t take my phone in with me, they will confiscate it until I leave and I would rather they had no access to it at all. I’m assuming Dan will have his, but again we won’t have access to it while in there.” She paused to take a breath and have a sip of water. I was thoughtful for a moment. This was probably the most important part of our operation and she had entrusted it to me.

“Okay, the programme you installed that gave me access to their system also gave me access to their alarms. If something happens, I will set off some form of alarm, nothing major that would cause a lockdown, but enough of a distraction that you can get out and hopefully it will draw the man without a face away.”

“Wow…” she gasped, sounding impressed. “Fuck Jake, you’re incredible!” she declared earnestly. I was so proud of myself that I couldn't believe it. “Uh...there is one other thing I want to do before we go. I may not get time after...I want to take down the traps on the roofs, in case an unsuspecting person gets hurt. I also want to look at whether the trap was tampered with on the roof the man without a face was waiting on.” She requested hesitantly. I wasn't thrilled with the idea. “I can’t stop it from happening can I?” I asked sadly. “No, not this time. It’s important to me.” she replied bluntly. How could I say no to her now? Besides, she was probably right, the traps, if they hurt someone, would draw more unwanted attention on us. It wasn't work the risk, even if that risk was minimal. However, if we were just on the roofing, I could work with that. “Okay, but this time I’m coming too. We will park as far away as we can, where there is access to the roofing around that area. Do you agree?” She thought for a moment, glaring at me intently. “Ugh, fine. But you keep your face hidden the entire time. You dismantle any cameras around the area first and if there is anybody looking at you, you go!” She replied in an attempt at compromise. I nodded solemnly and started the car. I was thrilled that she wanted to keep me safe...and that she had wanted to compromise.

Part 54

[thevoidable]

Why did Dabi let Hawks into the League? (major manga spoilers ahead)

This is a question that’s been plaguing my head ever since Dabi proudly announced to Hawks that he’d known all along that he was lying.

If that was the case, what was the point of bringing him in? Surely Dabi must have seen this coming by enabling Hawks to continue his infiltration? What exactly was Dabi’s end-goal here???

It’s unclear whether or not if this will get explained eventually, but after giving it a lot of thought, I think I have a pretty good answer to the question regardless. Essay under the cut.

What is Dabi fighting for?

First, we have to address Dabi’s motivations. They run deeper than just making Stain’s will a reality - he’s taking steps that Stain never even considered to make, because even he was blinded by something that Dabi despises more than anything: hero idolization. Stain saw All Might as a true hero, someone worthy of the title, but in Dabi’s eyes, All Might is one of the biggest contributing factors to why there is such a huge problem with the hero system, and aside from All Might allowing other heroes to become complacent, it’s all because of Endeavour.

Hawks and Dabi are two sides of the same coin when it comes to the new no. 1; Hawks grew up seeing Endeavour’s ambition to surpass All Might as impressive and heroic, mostly due to the fact that Hawks himself lacks the drive to become so great, because all he wants is to live life comfortably. But for Dabi, Endeavour’s need to surpass All Might was nothing but a blinded greed for power, the need to be the best of the best for his own selfish desires rather than to actually save people. It was a path that led him to horrifically abuse his own family in order to achieve it, because he saw Quirk breeding as the only way to fix his own flaws. As such, Dabi, AKA Toya, suffered greatly at the hands of it. He knows firsthand just how much the hero system is unjust, allowing for people with unhealthy mindsets like Endeavour to gain positions of power. He knows that people admire Endeavour for his heroism, but are unaware of the monster that lurks behind closed doors, even when his temper comes out during public patrols. This is a man who is the very definition of a false hero, a man who let his eldest son die and traumatized his entire family.

Dabi goes on to claim in chapter 267 that there are no true heroes - this, however, does not mean that true heroes cannot exist. All he means is that there are simply no heroes currently present and he plans to change that, because in the system that society has right now, it’s near-impossible. Hero idolization forces heroes to become perfect images that people can admire, and it also enforces the mindset that only the greatest heroes can come from schools like UA and Shiketsu. This results in a flood of people longing to become heroes for reasons other than saving people. Uraraka, for example, while she is gentle and kind-hearted, is still only becoming a hero so she can support her family. It’s a well-paying job, and that kind of promise will most certainly lure anyone in who is desperate enough. Yes, she has good intentions in mind, and she does want to save people, but saving people is not her ultimate goal. So, by Dabi’s definition, she is not a true hero.

Becoming a hero should also not be as easy as it is, and becoming a hero certainly should not start at such a young age. UA and the other hero schools are putting teenagers between the ages of 15 - 19 at severe risk, and we’ve seen worst-case scenario results of this twice over the course of the series, and it’s terrifying to think that there are most likely more that we haven’t heard of.

First you have Shirakumo who died before he had even graduated, an incident that led him to becoming a nomu working for the League, who would then go on to cause the second result.

By placing children in such a dangerous training course, it automatically places targets on their backs for villains before they even get their licenses. The League proved just how incapable the staff are at protecting their students by not only successfully attacking a location within the school, but also kidnapping one of said students later on, even after UA’s attempt at keeping the location of the training camp hidden and Dabi himself had revealed their basic plan to Aizawa.

This is all fuel for Dabi’s fire in his journey to rip hero society apart at the seams, and while he is absolutely planning to kill every false hero he comes across, he also has a secondary plan in mind, and that is for the students.

In One’s Justice 2, Dabi has this particular voice line to Hawks: “We’re working for the glorious future where those UA kids are hollowed, and brought down to earth. We’ll have to see what you’re working for.”

Dabi knows that while they are all still young, there is still time to prevent them from falling into every hero’s brainwashed mindset: villains bad, heroes good, no matter what either of them do. 

Something extremely important that the MVA and the current war arcs do is flip the black and white narratives on their heads, showing us just how human and empathetic the villains can be, while the heroes are doing nothing but making unheroic choices and opting for making the violent move first. We’ve seen all of the heroes do nothing but dehumanize Shigaraki, calling him “it” and “thing” like he’s just some monster that they have to kill. We’ve had to watch Hawks murder Twice in the name of “justice” simply because Twice refused to come quietly and be forced back into a life he felt miserable in. Even X-less chose to focus on the machinery next to him rather than getting a near-dead Shigaraki medical attention, and we all know how karma decided to treat that.

And this is where I would like to bring your attention to Tokoyami.

We’ve seen multiple times before how Dabi seems to have no interest in actually harming the students - initially, anyway. He leaves Aoyama alone even though he saw him; he taunts Shoto but doesn’t attack him to get him away; and lastly, Tokoyami first showing up to rescue Hawks actually calms Dabi down. Dabi shows no intent of hurting them because they’re still just kids, not heroes.

Calling back to how the heroes are currently being depicted as the ones making all the disturbing decisions, Dabi doesn’t hesitate to be the first to call out their decision to bring the students into what is essentially a covert-ops assassination mission that has turned into an all-out war. He first recognises that the boy in front of him is just that: a boy, and instead of attacking, Dabi gives Tokoyami a chance.

But what chance, exactly? To escape? Absolutely not.

The first thing Dabi does is make Tokoyami aware of the crime his so-called mentor just committed, and carefully wording it so that the stakes were made clear.

Twice was trying to run away to protect his friends.

But Hawks still killed him.

Dabi is giving Tokoyami a chance to recognise that the hero system he admires hides many skeletons in its closet, and is something that is severely corrupt. He’s giving Tokoyami a chance to rethink his working relationship with Hawks and everything Hawks has taught him.

But Tokoyami doesn’t take it.

As soon as Hawks speaks up again, Tokoyami returns to being obedient, ignoring everything Dabi just said and focusing only on the task at hand regardless of the moral dilemma presented before him, and that’s when Dabi’s intention for Tokoyami changes, because as Dabi put it, “You’ve stopped thinking for yourself.”

And indeed, Tokoyami has. Tokoyami is now cemented in the brainwashed mindset, blindly putting his faith in that Hawks’s decision to kill Twice was right, simply because Twice is the villain and Hawks is the hero, and Dabi realises this.

Tokoyami is now a false hero, and thus on Dabi’s kill list.

So, we have established that Dabi fully intends to wipe-out existing false heroes, while simultaneously trying to save those who have the chance to recover/escape from the brainwashing before it’s too late.

“Keigo Takami!!”

It’s no secret that Dabi clearly knows exactly what kind of situation Hawks is in. The fact that he knows Hawks’s real name alone tells Hawks that Dabi knows far more than he is comfortable with. So, seeing as Dabi was able to see through Hawks’s lies so easily, let’s assume that Dabi knows most, if not all, of what we the readers know about Hawks and how the HPSC groomed him.

Considering that Dabi came from the no. 1 hero’s household, there’s a high chance that he knows quite a bit about the HPSC and just how shady they actually are, especially if the theories are true that they had a hand in covering up his own death. Dabi is well-aware then that the HPSC is responsible for the hero system being so broken, and the reason they do nothing to fix it is so they can stay in power. They are not afraid to make questionable decisions which they know is only making the villain situation worse, because villains are what’s keeping them in business. And what’s sad about this is that even when the decisions they present are clearly morally wrong, the heroes are in no position to argue, because the HPSC is in complete control of their jobs. The HPSC governs the hero system, so whatever they do must be just, right?

Well, Dabi definitely knows the answer to that.

The HPSC deliberately manipulated the heroes to believe that the UA students were needed on the front lines for this mission, and so far, we’ve seen that they really weren’t, actually. The evac team remains the best place for the students to be, because while the pros with all the combat experience can focus on the villains, the heroes-in-training can focus on the smaller task of getting people to safety. Sure, Kaminari, Tokoyami, and the other front-liners helped, but the pros absolutely overwhelmed the PLF on their own. All the front-liners did was just kind of...pave the way, make things easier, and then they were sent back to rejoin their classmates. And the heroes didn’t question the decision at all.

What’s even more disturbing is that the students weren’t even aware of what they were getting into, and most of the pros weren’t aware that the students weren’t aware.

But, as mentioned before, Dabi doesn’t hesitate to call this out.

It’s highly likely that he’s able to connect that the HPSC were the ones who organised this attack and sent the kids out onto the battlefield, which also means that he’s unfortunately no stranger to the HPSC reducing talented children to nothing but weapons, a concept he is also personally familiar with.

Toya was bred with the intent of creating a Quirk superior to Endeavour’s, and then put under extremely harmful training that abused both his mind and his body. We already know that Dabi is heavily against valuing a person’s Quirk over their individual worth, thanks to his fight with Geten.

And in the world of heroics, this unhealthy mindset is unfortunately in abundance, especially in Hawks’s case.

What makes Hawks an especially tragic character is that he started out with the same longing to be a great hero that every child has. He wanted to be a comforting sight to those in need, and his innocent mind thought that the HPSC would help him make that reality.

Instead, the HPSC presented him with a life-changing decision that a child his age has absolutely zero mental capacity to consent to, and it’s heartbreaking that Hawks’s grooming began right from the second they met. The HPSC forced a child into intensive training at an age even younger than students training at proper hero schools, and they ever-so-gradually began chipping away at Keigo’s hopeful dream, starting with the erasure of his own name, the first step in disconnecting him from who he once was.

Over the years of the hero Hawks growing up under the HPSC’s wing, he had been stripped of his childhood and moulded into the perfect image of a hero, one that is loveable to the public, obedient to his handlers, talented in his work, and completely self-sacrificing to his missions.

The HPSC has successfully groomed Hawks so that his selflessness is now their trump card that they hold over him - instead of using his selflessness to save others no matter who they are, he’s been manipulated to believe that he has to give up everything in his life to be a great hero, that he’s not suited for being a “shining light”, thus bringing about his new goal of creating a world where heroes have free time, a goal that he is unfortunately pursuing in the wrong way. He’s been brainwashed to not think about villains too much, to not sympathize with them and dig into where they came from and why they became villains, which is why he’s targeting the wrong problem when it comes to making his dream a reality. He believes that he has to solve every case as fast as possible, and eventually there will be virtually no more villains left to hunt down, but the League has already shown us that the roots of villainy stretch much further down than that.

We catch a glimpse of how Hawks even acknowledges that he’s being held down by hero society, caged, and yet he does nothing to change it.

The result of his grooming has left him stuck in a thoughtless state, where it’s easier to believe that everything he is doing is right, and the villains are wrong.

And this is unfortunately something that he has spread to Tokoyami, as evidenced earlier.

Hawks is a hero who was groomed and manipulated from a young age, being thrown into training just so he could become a tool for those in power to use.

Sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?

Dabi can read Hawks like a book

It’s wonderfully ironic how Hawks prides himself in being capable of fooling anyone and everyone, making himself the hardest person in the room to read while simultaneously being able to read everyone else, and yet the one person that he couldn’t predict ends up being the only one who knows him better than anyone else.

Throughout all of their interactions, Dabi has always been two steps ahead of Hawks, able to catch him off-guard and ruffle his feathers. Keeping in mind that Dabi had known all along that Hawks was faking his desire to join the League, it’s interesting just how long Dabi kept stringing him along. Was he simply doing it for his own enjoyment?

Maybe a small part of him was, but in the long run, Dabi was absolutely still testing Hawks’s worthiness. What makes this great, however, is that Hawks was unaware that Dabi wasn’t testing him for what he originally thought.

Loyalty was absolutely out of the question for Dabi, since he knew from the start Hawks wasn’t planning on being as such. So, what exactly was Dabi looking for?

Looking through the tests that we know Dabi put Hawks through (the battle with Hood, and taking out a hero of Hawks’s choice), we can analyse what Dabi was impressed with, and what he wasn’t.

First off, there’s not a lot that Dabi didn’t like about what Hawks did. The most he complained about was Hawks simply bringing along Endeavour to the Hood fight instead of someone else.

It appears that he also complains about Hawks not letting anyone die, but Dabi is always quick to point out when heroes are prioritising lives, and this will become important later.

Then, we have Dabi asking Hawks to take someone out who isn’t the no. 1. When Hawks brought him Jeanist’s body, Dabi was genuinely surprised, but pleasantly-so. 

Now, Jeanist’s death here serves multiple narrative purposes:

It shows us that Hawks won’t hesitate to kill for a mission (RIP Twice),

It shows Dabi that Hawks is capable of killing anyone, not just villains,

And lastly, it serves as blackmail for Dabi in his pursuit of bringing down false heroes.

(There’s also Bakugo’s whole thing with his hero name, but this isn’t about him.)

That last point is what granted Hawks access into the League, contrary to Hawks believing that the only reason he got in is because the merging of the League and the MLA suddenly made it easy to do so. 

Dabi wasn’t going to let Hawks in without making sure he had a backup in mind in case Hawks tripped up.

But, blackmail wasn’t the only thing that Dabi was looking for. If anything, it was just a bonus.

What the Hood battle and Jeanist’s death showed to Dabi were the two sides that Hawks possessed: a bird of prey that isn’t afraid to kill for a cause, and the innocent child who just wanted to help people. Dabi was searching for both of those qualities within Hawks, because they’re both qualities that Dabi himself has.

Dabi relates to Hawks

As previously mentioned, there’s no doubt that Dabi is aware of how Hawks was trained and forced into a life he didn’t want. He’s very aware of how much Hawks longs for freedom but still wants to help those in need, but what separates them from each other is that Dabi has achieved the freedom that Hawks wants and is pursuing his dream in a way that works.

Dabi kills for his cause, but that cause is ultimately to prevent the future suffering of innocent lives at the hands of false heroes. In his own twisted way, he too wants to save lives. He wants to stop the possibility of another him from being created. He is choosing to be the unfriendly reminder that something is very wrong with the current system, and it needs fixing ASAP.

And that is exactly why Dabi can see through Hawks’s lies, because he recognises that Hawks too is a victim of the same system.

Dabi’s plan for Hawks

With Hawks presenting himself in front of Dabi, it offered up a multitude of opportunities for him. Dabi not only had a new connection to Endeavour through Hawks, but here was a hero who was prepared to get his hands extremely dirty just for a way to bring down the League. 

Dabi’s prior knowledge of Hawks and his past allowed him to constantly have the upper hand, but not in case Hawks attacked.

Through testing Hawks to see what qualities he possessed, Dabi was able to see if Hawks was worthy not for joining the League, but for undoing the brainwashing he’d been subjected to.

Dabi let Hawks into the League because he was giving him a chance, the same chance he gave to Tokoyami, to see hero society for what it really was and decide to do something about it. Dabi saw the potential in Hawks to be a true hero, to return to the boy he once was and save people for the sake of saving them. He saw Hawks’s potential to kill false heroes and that he wasn’t afraid to do it, and the idea of someone thinking the same way as Dabi, of understanding him and his goals wholly, would have absolutely been enticing to him.

Dabi claims to not care about the League, but even if that were true, Dabi recognises that the other League members are important to each other, especially when it comes to Twice and how eager he is to make friends. Dabi introducing Hawks to the League was his chance to show Hawks that they’re all human, and gain sympathy for them and what they stand for. It would have been the ultimate power move on Dabi’s part for Hawks to turn on the heroes and go villain, undoing what hero society did to him, providing him the freedom he always wanted and ultimately proving Dabi and his ideals right.

But, unfortunately, that wasn’t how things went.

How Dabi’s plan backfired

When Hawks first joined the PLF, it was obvious that Dabi was sticking close to him, both to keep an eye on him and to be genuinely friendly and accepting.

It’s rare to see a smile like this on Dabi when he’s around heroes, and he never smiles around the League, but for Hawks specifically, Dabi is always smiling. I think it’s safe to say that Dabi did genuinely enjoy Hawks’s company and that he was the only one Dabi actually liked, which is probably what led to him being comfortable with leaving Hawks to his own devices for the next few months, especially when he started a budding friendship with Twice.

Dabi must have been confident that Twice would be the one to break through the last of Hawks’s walls, because if we were seeing genuine smiles from Hawks, then Dabi must have seen them too.

However, it’s clear that Dabi severely underestimated Hawks’s capability to kill anyone. 

Hawks leaked the information to the heroes, an attack was launched, and Dabi immediately knew why.

And he was, understandably, incredibly pissed.

Upon confronting Hawks and hearing how he was about to kill Twice, Dabi used what he’d learned about Hawks during the Hood fight to his advantage and triggered Hawks’s rescue response, prompting him to subconsciously save Twice from Dabi’s flames, because Dabi knows deep down that a hero is who Hawks really is. What he was most likely hoping was for Hawks to maintain that response, but he instead made a mistake and directly caused Hawks to go back into mission-mode.

And it’s just a downward spiral from there, with all of Dabi’s last-ditch efforts falling flat. In one last desperate attempt to reach through to Hawks, he called out his name. His real name.

Dabi’s final chance to bring Hawks to his senses was to try and reconnect him with his past self of whom the HPSC had carefully erased, and it almost worked. Dabi let Hawks know that he knew everything about him, everything that he once was, but just like with Tokoyami, Dabi learnt the hard way that Hawks was beyond saving.

With Twice’s death, Dabi completely lost it, scolded Hawks for not focusing on him, and dropped one last bomb on Hawks before ending yet another false hero.

Until, yet again, that too backfired due to Dabi’s hope that he could save an innocent mind from the hero system’s brainwashing, and Hawks escaped with his life.

We get a glimpse of Dabi’s defeated expression, the knowledge that he can’t cry, and that he just lost two friends within the span of just a few minutes.

What next?

Honestly, if there’s one thing that is going to break Hawks, it’s knowing the truth about Endeavour. My hope is that Dabi is going to have a chance to make his reveal public to the entire nation, and exposing Enji Todoroki for the abuser he is will really shake things up.

At the moment, it’s still not clear exactly what Dabi told Hawks in his redacted bubble, but it was obviously something relating to his identity. Only time will tell what Hawks knows once he regains consciousness.

[itslieutenanthawkeye]

A Knight’s Oath

Day 6 of Jeankasa Week 2021: Royal AU

AO3

Sir Kirstein aids the princess of Hizuru escape a coup d’état organized by the marleyan Jaeger brothers.

There isn’t one inch of my body that isn’t yelling this is wrong, not one bit that isn’t shouting at me to return, to go back to my chambers, cover my ears with both hands and ignore that letter until the signal comes from within the palace. I came here to do a job: become her close guard, infiltrate the institution, take down the royal line.

That one job could have me swimming in silver. One job would be enough to buy myself that lifestyle I can only dream about. One job, and I could leave knighthood behind, buy myself a castle, a royal title and a woo wife to go with it. A pretty young wife with dark hair and big eyes and a whole army of servants to fulfill our every wish.

And yet here I am, walking with more purpose than ever before in my life, heading towards her.

Like most upper class Hizuran structures, the Azumabito royal palace is built atop a tall stone base. It’s an intricate maze of buildings, rooms and sliding doors that I’ve spent two years memorizing. I should know, better than anyone, how hard it’ll be for us to sneak out. Even if we do it without anyone being aware, even if nobody knows what the princess has found out.

“Jean, over here.” her voice calls from behind one of the doors. I follow like a bee searching honey. I enter the place where she’s been waiting for me and encounter her wearing the peasant clothes I procured for her a couple of days ago. She’s as lovely in them as she was the first time I saw her, sitting atop a high throne next to the regent, Kiyomi Azumabito, wearing a wonderful kimono of red fabric and golden threads.

Her mother, a pure-blooded Azumabito royal, fell in love with an eldian man, and in the process of marrying him, she also fell into disgrace and was expelled from the balance years before conceiving the princess. After a wave of plague that caused the death of the shogun and his closest relatives, however, Kiyomi had sent a contingent to bring back the princess’ mother to serve as regent until the princess came of age.

Stories say Kiyomi found a ten-year-old princess orphaned, living of scraps she found in the field near her home. Her parents were also killed by the plague. Some people say they starved, some others that they were murdered. However they died, the princess came back to the ancestral home of the Azumabito alone and Kiyomi took her into her care. Even I am aware of the love the woman has for her adoptive daughter, how much she cares for her safety.

It was her the first to find out about Marley’s plans to overthrow Hizuru’s royal line, of the spies sent by Marley in the shape of knights for Hizuru’s princess. It was Kiyomi who came to me, asking for help for the princess. She knew my involvement in Marley’s plans gave me a lot more intel than any other servant could’ve collected…and because she saw the way I looked at the princess that day our delegation arrived, two days ago, and how I’ve seen her every day since. She figured out quickly how much affection I carry for the princess and knew, barely one year after my arrival, that I would never leave her adoptive daughter behind.

“Are you ready?” I ask, putting on the peasant clothes, hiding the katana Kiyomi left in my room in the folds of my own hizuran clothes. “Your highness, are you ready?”

“I don’t want to leave.” She says; she’s turned away from me, giving me what little privacy she can while I change. “I can’t leave Kiyomi. I can’t leave the people of the palace behind.”

“Many of your servants are traitors, princess,” I remind her, tapping on her shoulder to indicate I’m decent again. A slight tremble travels her back and I curse myself; I’d forgotten how reserved hizuran people are when it comes to physical touch.

She turns around and faces me, resolution clear on her face. “Traitors or not, a ruler owes herself to her people,” she says, more dignified than any other royal I ever saw in Marley. “Traitors or not, I cannot leave them alone. And Kiyomi—”

“You heard their plans, princess,” I say, wondering how many times I’ll have to repeat the same thing to get her to forget that commitment to the people the Azumabito care so much about. “The moment the clock hits twelve, the guards will be at your doors. Zeke plans on executing you at dawn, on the morning of your eighteenth birthday. It’s either that or be forced into marrying his brother.”

“And I must let Kiyomi’s head hang just for the sake of escaping?”

“Mikasa,” I say; using her name feels strange. It’s a lovely name, but also forbidden. No knight is allowed to address the princess by her name, nor try to give her orders, let alone try to convince her to follow a plan she doesn’t agree with. The princess widens her eyes in brief shock, but nods, inviting me to continue. “You’re the last of your line. Kiyomi is willing to sacrifice her life for you.”

The princess lowers her head. “I can’t leave her.”

“If you can’t respect her wishes, at least do it out of pity for me,” I say, in a last attempt to get her moving. Time is slipping away from us, and Eren’s retinue must be making its way across the mountain roads already. “I’ve given up everything by just being here. If you stay, I hang with you, dishonored, tortured first.”

The princess looks up at me, her eyes stone-cold. “You came here under false pretenses, betraying mefirst. And now you’ve betrayed your country by being here. How can I be sure you won’t betray me again?”

Ah, how can I assure her without looking like a lovesick fool?

“I’ve served your palace for two years now, haven’t I?” I say. Mikasa nods, her gaze softening somewhat. In an act of boldness, or perhaps a leap of faith, I take a hold of her hands and fall to my knees. “I’m well acquainted with you now, princess, I cannot bring myself to leave you behind or betray you even if I should wish it.”

“Why, though, Jean?” she asks, and the mention of my name from her lips wraps me up like a warm blanket. Suddenly I remember again why I don’t care about the lost wealth, about that castle and title, about the group of nameless women I could’ve wooed into marriage. It’s her. Just her.

“Because you deserve to live. A great leader deserves to live,” I reply, bringing the back of her hands to my lips. I graze them briefly; a royal courtesy from Marley, never performed hereabouts. Royalty in Hizuru barely touches each other, and I can feel her trembling at the mere touch of lips against her hand. “I mean it when I say I won’t betray you, princess. I’m devoted to you as I haven’t been devoted to anything in my life. All I can hope for is that you believe me.”

“I believe you, Jean,” she says after a moment of quiet introspection. “I’m not sure why, but your face always seemed honest. From day one, even when you were scheming against me.”

I can’t help but to smile. “I’m willing to use my whole life to convince you I’m no longer scheming.” I say, standing to face her, holding her hand still. “Are you ready, princess?”

A sad smile adorns her face as she nods, and I’m forced to not focus too much on her face as we sneak out of the castle. Apart from being well-educated, she’s been trained extensively in martial arts and acrobatics, so sliding across the various rooftops of the palace and jumping from one terrace to another proves an easy task for her. She looks back at me at a point, her pale face illuminated by the moonlight, and I manage to give her a tight, ridiculous smile in encouragement.

I’ve seen plenty of women before, but she is by far the most beautiful sight my eyes have ever witnessed. But her beauty is just one of the things that have drawn me to betray my homeland’s coup d’état against Hizuru. I met her when she was sixteen, and I nineteen; these two years, I’ve seen her grow into a fair, kind ruler, one that cares more about the wellbeing of her subjects than the wealth of the family mines or the expansion of her land.

At seventeen, she convinced the council to abolish arranged marriages for women, recognize divorces requested by wives as legal, increase taxes for royals and establish a free education system for the entire country. I know she had in mind to establish free healthcare within her fifteen-year plan. All in all, she is a great leader.

Then there’s the fact that she’s extremely good at sparring. And I’ve always had a soft spot for women that are good with swords, especially women who can beat me in a fight.

I guess, in a way, spending my days with her, being with her…it all makes me want to be better. Before Hizuru, before the princess, all I thought about was ways of getting a comfortable life. My whole childhood, I’d spent it scamming people. Then knighthood had seemed a good way to find myself a relatively wealthy wife or become rich by taking down a king, or by plundering a town.

Just being by her side makes me a better man.

I want to keep being that better man.

I also want to keep seeing that pretty face of hers. I want to keep hearing her rants. I want to keep sharing my thoughts with her. I just want to be with her.

___________________________

Hizuru’s capital is surrounded by tall mountains. It’s thanks to my military training that I know which rivers the Jaeger brothers will use to invade the city, and which ones will give us safe passage to the sea, where a boat provided by the queen of Paradis Island awaits. Hizuru is a large nation, however, and the possibilities of our escape plan going sour are high. Still, I cannot let any of my insecurities show on my face. I took it upon my shoulders to protect the princess, to take her to her new home to keep her from being executed, forced into marriage, or tortured to death by the royals who had aided the Jaeger brothers conspire against the Azumabito.

By the time the sun begins to climb the mountains, we are miles away from the capital. And yet, we can hear the execution bells ring across the watch towers. Heads are starting to roll in the palace, the bells across the Hizuran Mountain Pass tell us, and one of them must be Kiyomi’s. Mikasa sits next to me on the motorboat, crying into her sleeves, leaning slightly against my arm.

“I’m sorry.” I manage to muster. “I wish I could’ve done more.”

She shakes her head, not looking at me. “Why did your people do this to us?”

I say the first few words that come into my mind. “Greed…I’ve never interacted much with the Jaeger brothers, but I know that the eldest wants power, and the mines in Hizuru are too rich to ignore. And the youngest cannot stand monarchies. He says people in them aren’t free.”

“Why decide to impose a dictatorship instead? What kind of hypocrisy is that?” she asks, although it’s clear she doesn’t expect me to answer her. “Why kill the council members? Kill Kiyomi? Our people are happy, and I wanted to work to make their lives better. I really wanted to. Why invade a foreign land that has rightful rulers with the excuse of freedom?”

“I wish I could explain it all,” I say, and the sight of the tear streaks on her face turns me into a rambling idiot. “I’m sorry, princess. I’m sorry I was with them. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to stop them. I’m sorry I came into your palace with—”

“You’ve already said you’ll spend your whole life making it up to me, won’t you? It is a promise, isn’t it?” the princess replies, and something inside me tells me she might be too tired to hear my apologies. She took the news of my original plan badly and stopped talking to me for a whole week, not being able to just look at me in the eyes, with fair reason. We spent so many days together with me as her guard, we became friends over those long nights of study, our few sneaky expeditions outside the palace, the times when I brought her street food for dinner in our chambers, the times when she’d sung for me and Kiyomi from behind a white canvas…

All those memories of friendship are stained now, covered with the mark of my initial plan to help the Jaeger brothers with their coup d’état. “I mean to fulfill that promise, princess,” I say, more convinced than I thought I would. “I’ll do anything to redeem myself from the initial betrayal.”

“What if I ask you to raise an army for me?” she asks, wiping the tears off her eyes with the back of her hand. “What if I say that you will prove you’ve redeemed yourself once you help me gain my throne back?”

Her face has acquired that solemn expression she uses whenever she addresses the council. And, like the council members, I cannot bring myself to say no to her. “I-I will try my best, princess. I do not have any influence, and I’ve no money to offer. But I will raise you an army, I will do my best.”

“Do you promise?”

“I could swear on my knight’s honor, princess, but you and I know I don’t have any. I’m a traitor to you and to my own homeland, remember?” I admit with an awkward smile, scratching the back of my head. “I’m lucky enough as it is that you trusted me enough to come with me.”

Mikasa smiles, then wraps my hand with both of hers. “There is one way you can assure me.” she says, her eyes not meeting mine. The sunlight is bathing us both; we’ll enter the lowlands soon, and speed will be of essence to avoid getting captured. Perhaps my concern for speed is what keeps me from realizing her face is dangerously near mine for the first couple of moments.

“What way?” I manage to stammer.

“An oath on your soul,” she explains. “It’s not a thing we do often here, though.”

“Is it like a blood oath?”

The princess shakes her head. “It’s something a bit deeper than that.”

I swallow hard, wondering if she’s going to force me to cut my finger off, or something worse. I don’t have any gripes if that’s what it takes to convince her I would fight to gain her trust back, but I can’t help being concerned about the health implications of cutting a finger off in the middle of a river.

“I’m not going to ask you to cut a finger off, Jean,” she half-sobs, half-laughs, guessing my thoughts. “It’s nothing as ghastly as that.”

“From the way you’re talking, it seems like a big deal.”

A soft blush travels her cheeks. “It is,” she says. “It’s a soul promise. We don’t touch each other here, not after you’ve left childhood behind. Let alone if you’re from a royal family. These oaths only happen behind closed doors, or at weddings.”

“What kind of oath is it, princess?”

“Kiss,” she says, closing her eyes. “You close the oath with a kiss, and your soul is bound to that person.”

“A k-kiss?” I manage to say, realizing at last how close she is sitting to me. If I must be honest, for the most part during my first year on the job, I paid little attention to hizuran traditions. It wasn’t until she started talking to me more that I began to care for the country I was hired to take down. And despite paying more attention to the country she loves so much, I have never heard of such an oath. Could it be that she just wants to feel someone else’s skin on hers?

A smirk appears on my face, and she seems to guess what thoughts are going through my head. She withdraws from me, narrowing her eyes dangerously. “It’s not like I want to!” she says, her cheeks burning red, her murderous expression only increasing my smile. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“I’m sorry!” I say, coughing to clear my throat. Her hands are still holding mine. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you, princess. Please, tell me about this oath.”

“No.” Mikasa replies, shaking her head. “You are clearly not mature enough for it.”

“Please, princess.” I say, and she gives me a serious glance before sighing in defeat.

“If you do it, it’ll be important. You cannot back away from this; you must fulfill it even if it takes your life. Your promise will be bound to your soul; and your soul is bound to me.” Mikasa hunches her shoulders and exhales, her eyes set on the mountains we’re leaving behind, her eyes longing for the warmth of the castle, the voice of her caretaker.

Her home crumbled in the lapse of a few hours; all her friends in the palace, her adoptive mother, the members of the council that cared for her…they’re all dead by now, or tortured, perhaps, to get information on her whereabouts. Kiyomi is probably getting the worst of all. And that’s when it hits me: I’m all she’s got left. Me, one of the knights sent to infiltrate her palace, gain their trust, and stab them in the back.

What a grim scenario that is.

“Princess, please look at me,” I say. She turns to face me, and my lips press against hers for a couple of seconds. When we part, her eyes are as wide as plates. “I promise I will not fail you.”

She nods, her hands clutching mine, her cheeks tinted pink. “Thank you.”

I let go of her hands and wrap her face with both of mine. Then, I press my lips against hers. This time, when we part, her eyes are closed. “I promise I am bound to you, blood, bone and soul.” I say, then kiss her again, a little longer this time. “I promise I won’t rest until you get your throne back.”

She smiles at me. “You’re splitting your soul into a lot of little pieces there.”

I kiss her again, and this time her lips move against mine, her arms wrap around my shoulders. Many times these two years I dreamed about kissing her –no, I’ve imagined doing a lot more with her, if I must be honest. But it was all fantasies, half-built while I looked after her during royal events, while I guarded her in her sleep, while we had our quiet dinners.

“I swear, my princess,” I say as we come apart once more, grazing her cheek with the back of my hand. “I swear my soul, heart and body are yours, from now until I the day I’m ripped from you.”

“That sounds a lot like a wedding vow.” She points out, holding my hand in place against her face.

I smile. “I’m sorry, princess.”

“Don’t be, please,” she says, then places a quick kiss on my fingers. “You can call me by my name from now on, you know. I’m not a princess anymore.”

“You’re always a princess, though.”

She shakes her head. “You and I are fugitives,” she says, setting her eyes on the mountains again, a fire burning bright behind the grey curtain of her eyes. She wants revenge; she wants to gain her throne, her homeland, back, and rain fire upon the ones who dared to lift a finger against Hizuru.

And all I want, I realize with a bit of embarrassment, is to keep her safe, stay by her side.

“I’ll raise an army for you, Mikasa.”

“We’ll raise it together. I believe in your oath,” she assures me, leaning forward to press her lips against mine for a long moment. “And I swear to you that when I get my throne back, I will give you all the lands and wealth you desire.”

“I could do without all that.” I say, shrugging, eliciting the first smile I’ve seen from her in a while.

I want to protect that smile, I think as our boat picks up speed. We’ll enter the lowlands in a couple of miles, and it’ll be a race to get to the ocean. The island is the only safe option for the princess now; the only safe place for the both of us. Despite my oath to her, all my mind can think of is a peaceful life with her. No luxuries, no armies, no grand schemes for power. Just the princess and I, sharing our lives in a quiet cottage by a river, hidden away from the world on Paradis Island.

It’s a fool’s dream, I know.

“I’ll keep you safe.” I assure her, giving her hand a little squeeze, hoping this isn’t too much touching for someone like her.

To my surprise, she squeezes my hand in return. “And I’ll keep you safe.”